#hes just like janet from the good place voice: kill! me! kill! me! kill! me! kill! me!

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

"you shouldve shot me when you had the chance"

[mcondance]

other side of the game; hobie brown

summary // hobie swings by when you’re cleaning your room, and you know exactly what he wants.

cw // dubcon-ish (you say stuff akin to no but like.. you want it. it’s just a game you n hobie play), they talk a lot of shit, missionary

extras // you and hobie r Black so i don't wanna hear anything abt the grammar i used! "it's supposed to be doesn't" kill yourself idc, the song has. nothing to do with what happens in this fic btw it just.. it makes sense when you read it and it helped me write

wc // 2.6k

song shoutouts // special thanks to other side of the game by erykah badu and i get lonely by janet jackson

signing off // thank you to poetnon for this idea i hope you like this <3

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you know the second you hear the knocks at your window that you won't be getting anything else done today. he does this every fucking time.

walking across your room, you unlock the window for your boyfriend, eyes meeting his as you psyche yourself up for what you know is coming.

you return your attention to your desk, and with your back turned to him, you hear him slide his lanky body through the frame, landing softly on your carpeted floor.

"you busy?" he muses pointlessly, already shrugging his jacket off and reaching down to untie his boots. player one, ready?

"yeah," you hum pointlessly too, hands fiddling with the trinkets on your desk. maybe if you don't look at him, you won't cave. player two, ready?

"what you up to?" his voice grows closer. you close your eyes, breathing deep and slow to try to build your resolve, but you can hear him inching towards you, the clinging of his belts giving his movements away.

"cleanin' my room." you spin around, figuring you'd face your doom instead. his shoes are off now, placed up against the wall under your window. and now the game has started.

"mhm. well don't let me stop you," he smiles, and you wish you could say that it didn't put another dent in your already rusty resolve, but it does. with shaking hands crossed in front of you, you push yourself up and away from your desk and move across your room to your pile of clothes, folding shit hastily, already so fucking nervous.

he takes your place leaning against your desk and scans your room, taking in how much you’ve already gotten done. it makes him feel a little less bad about what he’s going to do. “looks good already. how long you been cleanin’?”

“since like, 10.”

“mhm. ‘s 2:24 now. think you’re ready for a break?” you snap your head towards him, rolling your eyes and screwing your lips up at the implications of his words.

“not the kinda break you’re talking about,” you sneer, rolling your eyes again as you return your focus to the meaningless pile of clothes.

“and what kinda break is that?”

“the kinda break when you end up inside me. i don’t have time for it.” you don’t face him as you speak. you can’t. if you do, it’s all over. you don’t want it to end just yet. it’s fun. it always is.

“what, you think ‘m just tryna get in your pants? i jus’ think my girl should have a little rest, yeah?” at his words you drop the shirt in your hand, switching gears to organize your nightstand instead.

“you’re lying. you always do this.”

“do what?”

“this. you come here and sweet talk me and the next thing i know i’m under you and my room doesn’t get cleaned. i’m not doing this today.”

he’s silent— your brain isn’t. you know it’s only a matter of time until he’s doing exactly what he’s doing now.. wrapping his slim fingers around your waist and pulling you back onto him.

speaking directly against your ear, he finally comes out with what he wants. “take a break, baby, lemme make you feel good." his lips meet your neck, ghosting over your heated skin.

"can't, hobes, i gotta clean up,” you whine, but it's futile at this point, cause you're already leaning back onto him, already tilting your neck to the side to give him more access, already dropping the half-empty water bottle in your hand.

"you sure, love? y'can clean up after we're done, hm? i'll help you.” he sounds earnest, like he really cares. you shake your head no, but you let him pull you away from your desk and turn you around. "gotta clean," you repeat, but you let him push you down onto your ruffled sheets.

"then clean." he’s standing over you now with his hands tucked into his pockets, and he motions towards the pile of clothes with his head, knowing eyes fixed on your frame sprawled out on your bed. from here, the light frames him perfectly, and he looks so damn pretty. maybe you'll blame what you do next on that. doesn't matter now, though. eyes meeting, you both know you're not getting up— seconds pass with you both staring, a silent confirmation, and hobie knows your answer.

shrugging, he leans down with his hands still in his pockets, placing a damning kiss on your lips, murmuring "gave you a chance, baby. knew you didn't give a fuck about cleanin'." and he's right, embarrassingly so, so you roll your eyes, channeling your faux-frustration into a rough kiss, curling your hands under the straps of his t-shirt.

he falls forward, hands flying from his pockets to balance himself on top of you. smiling against your lips, he speaks again, “see. . you want it. you’re desperate.”

his hips start to rock against yours, stacked belts clinging against your dangling legs. hands finding the side of his face, you huff at his irritating need to almost shame you, to show for some made-up record that no matter how much you turn him down, you want him. you need him.

so you push your hips against his, humming at the groan that flies from his lips. tapping your thigh, he ushers you up the bed, your bodies turning until your head is laid on your pillows.

he reaches down between you two, sliding your shorts to the side to rub his fingers against your already sloppy cunt, smiling when he feels and sees how wet you are. “cleaning my ass,” he jokes, kissing you before you can get upset again.

sliding his fingers up, he brushes the pads of them over your sensitive clit, swallowing the pretty moans that start to flow from your spit-slicked lips. hobie knows you like the back of his hand, knows just how much pressure you need, how tight his circles have to be, knows how to make you cum hard, and cum fast.

it’s always like this when he comes by with the goal to distract you— you always end up under him with whatever you have on pushed hastily to the side, fully clothed and his hand between your legs, shaking arms wrapped around his neck. it’s desperate, really, both your need to get off.

though you try to remain steadfast, try to act like you don’t want this, the way your hips move against his hand gives you away. “did all that sayin’ ‘no’, bu’ look.” he points his eyes down, towards where his hand is hovering above your cunt, fingers glistening.

“‘course ‘m wet, don’t mean shit.”

“it don’t? that’s wild, love,” he slides two fingers in without warning and presses his thumb against your clit before he starts his circles again, other hand moving to hold you in place when you thrash against him, “cause last time i had t’almost beg. ‘n the time before that, i did beg.”

you know what he’s trying to say, and it makes heat rise in your face and makes your eyes close, cause you can’t face him. no matter, though, cause he grabs your face, spits, “open your eyes. look a’me.”

you open your eyes and meet his low ones, ones that are always black with lust, ones that bore straight through you and make you feel so small and dirty underneath their gaze. he nods at your obedience, and then his fingers catch that spot inside you, and the licks of flame inside you morph into something like a fire, lighting you up with pleasure. you’re close, so close.

“you’re gettin’ easier, baby. act all you want, you’re desperate.” that sends you over the edge, and it’s embarrassing. it’s filthy, how he just has to talk to you a little mean and you’re cumming on his fingers, shaking as you choked out sobs of his name, like you weren’t just telling him to leave you alone 10 minutes ago.

before you even come down he’s kissing you, pulling your shirt up to free your tits.

"fuck you." you spew as you separate, but you still pull him closer, position him where his clothed dick rubs right against your cunt, kept away by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts that have almost rolled back into place.

"you will, in a second," he bites back, a wicked smile plastered across his ethereal features— features that are driving you fucking insane.

you’ve grown sick of his mouth— fisting his hair, you yank hard, drawing a pained moan from him and another drag of his cock against you. “you keep talking all this shit, but you’re the one who came up to my window looking for some ass. i don’t wanna hear it.”

“yeah? and you’re the one who kept going on about havin’ to clean your room, but i got you in bed so easy. we’re both fucked.”

and it’s true. the statement grounds both of you, and you both realize just where you are— inches apart, seconds away from what you both want. snapping out of it at the same time, your hands tangle together as you reach for each other’s bottoms, you freeing his pretty dick and him ripping your shorts right down the middle.

you laugh at his haste, his deep chuckles mixing with your giggles, foreheads meeting as you both calm down after your frenzy.

“‘m sorry. still forget how strong i am.”

“‘s fine. just fuck me already.”

“ehhh,” hand around his cock, sliding his tip up and down your waiting cunt, he teases once more, “y’sure you don’ wanna clean? room’s still a bit messy.”

“hobie, i swear to god, if you do not put it in me now i will pin you down and take it.” reading your eyes, he can tell you’re dead serious.

“‘s much as i’d love that,” he slides in with a pretty groan, and you wrap your arms around his neck with a throaty whine, “i want you like this.” pushing his hips up, he seats himself inside you.

breathing heavy, you both just take a second to calm down, to bask in the feeling of being intertwined with your lover again, no matter how annoying they can be. with closed eyes, you throw your head back, resting on your pillows. hobie takes that as a sign to spread kisses down your jaw, grinning when you smile.

“move,” you breathe, shifting your hips to give him better access.

that first stroke always drives you both crazy. the slow pull out, faces contorting in pleasure, bodies getting closer and closer until the next best thing is merging together again, you pushing down and him pushing up and then his cock takes its rightful place inside you, sensitive tip leaking against your cervix.

“‘m all the way in, love, can feel the end of you,” he murmurs against your neck, and you nod, curling your arms tighter around his neck. then, he just grinds, circles his hips, just barely pulling out.

it’s perfect, the way your bodies move against each other, giving and receiving pleasure at the end of the game you both love playing. with fluttery glides and soft slides, and pitchy whines and deep groans, you dunk yourselves into that familiar pool of feeling, let it fill up your noses and mouths until it’s spilling over, your bodies shaking and jerking against each other.

blissed out of your fucking minds, your lips meet the others, lazy connects of your lips that you can just barely call kisses. they’re slack-jawed and sloppy, spit-swapping, the lewd smacks filling the air, mixing with the harmony of fucked-out sounds.

slowly, hobie starts moving his hips around differently, on a mission now, one that has you tensing up, cause it never takes him long to find it, that sweet spot that has you—

“fuck,” you drawl, throwing your head back, and hobie just smiles and keeps his hips moving that way, keeps his cock kissing that same spot.

"that's it?" he hums.

when you try to articulate what you're feeling, try to tell him "yeah", the words never come. instead, he's raising up to spread your legs and balancing himself above you, switching from slow grinds to deep thrusts that have him pressing against that spot even more now.

now, with him slapping his hips against yours and his thumb on your clit, the sound fills the room, skin against skin. jolting against him, his eyes are still trained on yours, fixed on the furrow of your eyebrows and the o-shape your lips make, focused on how pretty you look when he fucks you.

your choppy moans fill his ears, the background to his barrage of words that fill yours. sentences about how pretty you look, how good you feel, how he just wants to fuck you forever, and then for the second time without warning, you cum again, right when he says something about wanting to keep you fucked and filled, "'s why i keep comin' over, cause i wan' you full of me all the time."

it's gentle, this time, streams of feeling flowing softly through you. hobie makes sure to keep his pace steady through it all, makes sure he prolongs it as long as he can.

when you come down, you're pushing up on his hips with shaking hands, nodding your head and telling him to move. he doesn't waste a second, lifts up and grabs your headboard with one hand to give himself some leverage, his other hand resting on your calf. this time around, he's forgotten all that slow shit.

he rocks his hips hard and fast, jolting you up, and your back rubs against your sheets, your hands fly to your thighs to ground yourself.

"keep 'em open," he slurs, eyes fixed on where he disappears inside you, on the way you cream on his cock, his pretty dick painted white. "watch," he tells you, "she swallow me up so nice." his tone is awe-filled, brown eyes lit up at the visual of you taking him so well.

your eyes roll back in your head, another wave of arousal overtaking you and you can't watch any longer or you'll go crazy, so you watch his face instead. watch his pretty fucking face contort in pleasure, watching his eyebrow piercings dance in the light, watch his sharp jaw clench when you clench around him.

and god, it’s building up again. how could have ever even thought you’d clean up today, when this is so much better. “you gonna cum?” he asks, cause he knows your tells better than you do. you nod shakily, hands gripping onto your thighs so hard you swear you feel your fingers going numb.

“then do it.” it’s an order, really, and you know what he means. hand flying to your clit, you rub messy circles, and hobie moves his hand from your calf to your thigh to keep you open for him. nodding with wild eyes, he watches you make yourself cum, watches your circles became sloppy side-to-side motions while you whine and almost fucking cry, watches your cunt clamp down on him and suck him in “like she don’t wanna let go.”

through the mind-fuck in your head, you hear him groan loud, and then he’s cumming too, gripping your headboard so hard you swear you hear a soft crack, but fuck the headboard, cause hobie looks so pretty when he cums that it don’t even matter.

laughing, blissed out of your minds, hobie lays down on top of you, breathing hard and sweaty as shit, just like you are.

“i really did need to clean my room though, hobie.” you hum, turning your head to face him.

“i wasn’t just tryin’ to get in your pants, love, i was serious about helpin’,” he mumbles against your neck. and he does help. by the time he’s sliding back through your window and kissing you goodbye, your room is perfect.

[zoloftsexdeath]

Thinking about the origin songs of all the surviving covey members. I can’t speak to color theory, and I haven’t read the books, but I do know some folk songs and recognized some names. Now I don’t stick to Childes ballads strictly when listening to these songs, but I will be listing the number for reference on all the names that have a childe’s ballad corresponding, just for ease of research.

Lucy Grey Baird

Lucy Grey is her own creature and her song is plain in the books. I think the difference between the book ballad of Lucy Gray and the one in the movie (the song she herself wrote about Billy Taupe) is fascinating, as the first one is more of a story-song traditional like, and the Ballad per the movie is so. Im shoving it in my mouth and eating it. Smarter people with more context than me can write better about it though so I’ll leave it at this. I personally think Rachael Ziegler killed it though, and her voice is high and clear, would love to hear her live so I could lay in the grass and kick my feet as I listen.

Barbara Azure Baird

Barb Azure canonically came from Barbara Allen/Barb’ry Allen [CB # ]traditionally a round sung about a woman whose lover dies of wanting her, and she dies of sorrow, and their graves lie entertwined with plants of rose and briar on each respective grave to form a true lover’s knot. My favorite version comes from Joan Baez. This is the only of the covey songs I’ve ever heard before doing this research, and I love it dearly.

Tam Amber [last name unknown]

Tam Amber from Tam Lin! Also known as Tamlaine, Tamlin, or Tam Lyne [Child Ballad #39]. An epic Scottish ballad, and a lovely round. As the story went he was a mortal kidnapped by faeries and has become their unwilling servant, protecting a forest in which he finds a beautiful young woman (usually named Janet or Margaret) whom he confronts for plucking roses. They doink about it, she gets pregnant, her father asks who got her with child, and she rushes back to Tam Lin and begs him to either get rid of the child he begot or marry hee, which in his current state he cannot do. He then devises a plan for Janet/Margaret to performs several tasks that will allow him to return to the land of the mortals, angering the faery queen but assuaging her enough that she makes good on her promise and reluctantly frees Tam Lin to marry his now beloved Janet and legitimize their child. Perhaps not the most traditional version, the one by Anaïs Mitchell and Jefferson Hamer makes me think yes, I can see Tam Amber’s parents falling in love to this song, singing it to him and the other covey children to put them to sleep.

Clerk Carmine Clade

From the ballad Clerk Colven [Child Ballad #42] about a real piece of work who tries to run off on his wife and sleep with a mermaid. The mermaid knows this though, and curses him to suffer a horrific headache until I think his head actually explodes. I don’t think it necessarily has any bearing on Clerk Carmine’s actual personality, but the combination of this song with the color carmine (a brilliant red extracted from the cochinil bug) leads me to believe he was either conceived, born, or his parents married while traveling in district 5. I can see this one being a favorite in district, where they know the danger of baiting the sea and possibly the danger of being a jackass to your wife as well. The location of D5 down in the southwest also leads me to believe it was one of the few places the Covey could have encountered the color as well, as often red 40 or other synthetics are used in mass production of vibrant reds and the use of cochinil based carmine would likely be a very “district” thing, used by native residents for painting or decoration of small items. It’s a strong name, and dangerous when it comes to taking a stand against what the capital represents. I’m surprised he was able to keep it. I reccomend this cover, dunno the singer really but the accent is heavy and his voice is true. I would listen with lyrics alongside though.

Maude Ivory Baird

The book tells us that Maude comes from the poem “Maude Clare” by Christina Rosetti, and Ivory from piano keys. I also like to think that she was partially named after Maud Karpeles, a British folk song collector who helped write down a lot of folk music.

Billy Taupe Clade

Likely from Billy Boy, ironic and fitting for its being about a man after a wife who can feed and care for him despite her being “too young to leave her mother” something Lucy Gray says about him wanting in the books (and seemingly not wanting much more). I don’t care much for this song (sorry), but this is an alright cover.

[gaeforwom3n]

Fake Dating

Pair: Vada Cavell x fem!oc

Warning: this is dog water ahh writing and I'm just doing this for shits and giggles

A/n: I have exams in 7 months but no pressure (I’m so stressed and skl started 3 days ago)

This is a series btw.. part 3 (coming soon)

Mrs. Thomas forced a tight smile, her eyes cold as she said, "Hello, dear."

Vada nodded her head in greeting, keeping her polite smile firmly in place. She could practically feel the tension in the air, but she wasn't one to back down.

"It's good to see you again, Mrs. Thomas. You're looking very elegant tonight."

Mrs. Thomas kept her fake smile in place as she said, "Thank you. Could I just speak to my daughter for a sec?" Before Vada could respond, Mrs. Thomas had already grabbed London’s hand, dragging her to a corner of the room.

Vada was taken slightly off guard by the sudden grip on your hand, practically getting dragged by your mother to a secluded corner of the room. She gave you a final glance, a mix of worry and curiosity in her eyes, before turning her attention to your mother. She stood there silently, waiting for her to speak.

London pulled her arm free from her mother’s grip, her voice firm as she said, "Mom? Stop." She could see the anger boiling just beneath the surface, moments before Mrs. Thomas started to yell.

Your mother gave you a look that could kill, clearly not pleased by your attempt to free yourself from her grasp.

"Don't you 'Mom' me." She said, her voice firm and cold.

"You can't seriously expect me to believe you're seriously dating that girl. It's a fake relationship, isn't it? You're just doing it to piss us off, right?"

London glared at her mother, frustration lacing her voice. "Why do you think everything is about you?"

Your mother had a look of annoyance on her face as you asked that question, her eyes narrowing at your response.

"Oh, please, you think I wouldn't notice? You never date, and then out of nowhere you randomly introduce a Latina girl to us, not even from a wealthy family? You just brought her along to mock us, don't you?"

She said, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"I like her. You can't believe that your daughter is a—" Before London could finish, Mrs. Thomas slapped her across the face, her voice seething with anger as she spat, "No daughter of mine will be a fag!"

Your mother's slap echoed loudly through the room, causing some of the nearby guests to turn and look in your direction. Vada's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, watching as your mother went on her homophobic monologue.

"What the..."

Vada muttered under breath, taking a step forward, but stopped herself, not wanting to make the situation worse.

Mr. Thomas rushed over, grabbing his wife’s arm to stop her from causing another scene or leaving any noticeable marks on London. "Stop it," he hissed, trying to contain the situation before it escalated further.

Mrs. Thomas glared at London, her voice trembling with rage as she cursed, "James, I’m telling you, this child has the devil in her!"

Mr. Thomas sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as his wife continued her tirade against you.

"For God's sake, Janet. Stop it. You're making a fool out of yourself."

He said, trying to keep his tone firm yet calm.

While her parents argued, London had already slipped out of the room and made her way to the pool area, seeking refuge from the chaos.

After the whole scene with your parents, Vada watched with a concerned expression as you stormed off to the pool area. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to follow you.

Eventually, Vada stepped out of the venue; her eyes scanned the area until she spotted you by the pool. She hurried over to you, a mixture of worry and anger on her face.

"Hey. You okay?"

London didn’t feel like talking, so she simply responded with a quiet, “Mhm.”

Vada looked at you, clearly not convinced by your response. She could see through the facade, knowing that everything that just happened wasn't easy to brush off.

"Come on. I know you're not okay."

She said in a soft tone, approaching you and taking a seat beside you by the edge of the pool.

London sighed, looking out at the pool as she said, "I’m used to this, Vada."

Vada frowned as you said that, her heart aching at the thought of you being used to this kind of treatment from your parents. She reached out, gently placing a comforting hand on your back.

"Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it's okay. They shouldn't treat you like that. It's not right."

London’s voice was tinged with bitterness as she added, "They just wish I was like McKenzie."

Vada shook her head, a tinge of anger in her voice. It was clear that your parents' treatment of you was completely unjust.

"That's not an excuse. You aren't your sister; you're your own person. They should love and appreciate you for who you are, not try to mold you into someone you're not."

London looked at Vada, her expression mixed with frustration and resignation. "Well, they don’t," she replied, her voice reflecting the deep hurt she felt.

 Vada sighed, her hand still gently rubbing comforting circles on your back. She knew that there was no easy fix for this kind of situation.

"I know they don't. And it's not fair. You deserve so much better than how they treat you."

London’s eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you even know? I’ve seen your family,” she snapped.

Vada paused for a moment, taken aback by your words. It was true; her family was quite different compared to yours.

"Yeah, my family is different. But that doesn't mean I can't understand what you're going through. Just because I have a supportive family doesn't mean I don't know what it feels like to..."

Vada trails off, realizing that she was close to overstepping a boundary she had no right to cross.

London winced, rubbing the area where her mother had slapped her. “She really slapped me hard,” she said, her voice low and painful.

Vada winced as you touched the area where your mother had slapped you. She gently grabbed your hand, stopping you from rubbing the spot further.

"Don't. You'll only make it worse."

Vada said, her voice filled with concern. She reached over to get a better look at the spot where your mother had hit you. The skin was red and inflamed.

"She really did a number on you."

London nodded, trying to find some solace in the situation. “Yeah, but everyone got to see how messed up she is,” she said quietly.

Vada sighed, a mix of frustration and anger visible on her face. She was seething at how your mother treated you, especially in public like that. The slap was one thing, but the words she had said...

"Sometimes people need a wake-up call. Maybe this will make them see how messed up their behavior is."

London rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. “She called me a fag just because we kissed,” she said, her frustration evident.

 Vada's jaw tightened as you mentioned what your mother had called you. Her eyes flickered with anger, her hands unconsciously clenching into fists.

"Don't listen to her. It's not true. You know that, right?"

London glanced at Vada with a hint of understanding. “I know you’re gay, Vada, and I’m okay with that,” she said reassuringly.

 Vada blinks a few times in surprise, caught off guard by your statement. She hadn't expected you to bring up her sexuality like that.

"Wait, what? How did you?"

She paused, realizing that you must have picked up on it somehow. She let out a soft sigh before continuing.

"Yeah, I am gay. You're okay with that?"

London’s voice was steady but firm as she said, “I’m not my fucked-up family.”

 A soft smile appeared on Vada's lips, a feeling of relief washing over her. She was glad to know that you didn't hold the same prejudiced views as your family. It made her feel even closer to you.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that."

Vada said, gently reaching out to take your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

London and Vada made eye contact, a silent understanding passing between them.

 As your gazes met, a warm, soft feeling washed over Vada. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked into your eyes. A moment of silence stretched between the two of you, the air filled with an almost palpable tension.

 Vada's hand began to shake slightly at the unexpected wave of emotions that washed over her. She swallowed, trying to break the silence.

London leaned in, her eyes reflecting a mix of desire and shyness, clearly wanting to kiss Vada but hesitant.

 Vada slowly leaned towards you, her eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. She was inches away from you now, close enough to hear your heart pounding in your chest. She hesitated for a moment, a mix of nervousness and desire in her eyes.

London's gaze softened, and she whispered, "Kiss me," her voice barely above a breath.

Vada's eyes widened slightly at your request, a wave of excitement and anticipation rushing through her body. She didn't hesitate this time, closing the remaining distance between the two of you and pressing her lips to yours. The kiss was tender and gentle, a declaration of emotion and vulnerability.

Mr. Thomas stormed in, his face red with anger. “Oh god. Get the fuck out,” he snapped.

Vada pulled away from the kiss abruptly, startled by the sudden voice. She looked up to see your father standing a few feet away from you guys, an expression of shock and anger plastered on his face.

London looked at Vada, her voice heavy with regret. “I’m sorry, Vada,” she said softly.

Vada was speechless for a moment, trying to process what was happening. She turned to look back at you, a mixture of confusion and worry on her face. But before she could say anything, your father interrupted again.

Mr. Thomas glared at you, his voice harsh and commanding. “You’re done confusing my daughter and upsetting my wife. Now get out of my house.”

Vada's eyes widened, a surge of anger and defiance rising within her. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"I'm not the one who's done anything wrong."

She said firmly, her voice steady and sure. She wasn't going to back down easily.

Mr. Thomas's anger flared as he threatened, "I'll call the police on people like you."

 Vada's eyes darkened as Mr. Thomas' words hit her like a blow to the gut. She flinched slightly, her heart clenching at the harshness and cruelty in his voice. But she refused to show weakness in front of him.

"Go ahead, call the police. They'll arrest you before they arrest me."

She said defiantly, tilting her head up to look him straight in the eye.

London stepped forward, her voice resolved. “Dad, I’ll make her go,” she said firmly.

 Vada froze, looking back and forth between you and your father. She wasn't sure what exactly you meant by that, but she couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get worse.

"What..?"

London took your hand flinty.

 Vada allowed you to take her hand, her palm sweaty as she clutched yours tightly. She looked at you, searching your eyes for an answer. The tension in the air was almost palpable, and Vada could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest.

As Mr. Thomas left, London turned to you, her expression softening. “I think you should go, Vada,” she said gently.

Vada's heart ached at your words. She knew you were putting on a brave face, trying to act like everything was okay. But she could see the pain and confusion hidden beneath the surface.

"Okay..."

 She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She hesitated for a moment longer before slowly walking away, stealing one last glance at you over her shoulder.

As McKenzie stepped outside, she noticed London sitting alone. Her expression was a mix of concern and curiosity as she approached.

[the-tiktok-rogue]

The Terror of Timothy Wright

It was halloween 1995, and little Timothy was so excited to go trick or treating with his mother, she got him this little theatre mask that was his favourite and he absolutely lit up, Janet Wright, Tims mother ruffled his hair and they went out together.

they went from door to door pretty easily that autumn night, and had a genuinely good time, enjoying going from door to door, Timothy and his mother sat down on a playground, little Tim swinging on the playground swing.

They both counted the candy together as Tim asked his mother a silly question “what am I dressed as mommy?” his mother giggled and said in a silly spooky voice “the boogeyman boo!” Tim theatre gasped and they both giggled, until Tim saw a figure in a suit across from the other side of the playground.

Timothy walked over to the tall suites figure and asked “who are you? I like your halloween costume.” Tims mother was looking at him bemused but let him speak.

The tall shadowy figure loomed and tilted its head as Tim continued “i’m dressed as the boogeyman, my mommy got me this mask especially, you wanna share some of my candy?” Timothy asked about to hand it to him, but when Tim looked up the figure was gone.

Little Tim walked back to his mother “I guess he doesn’t like candy.” he said to her, his mother tilted her head and laughed to herself “You have such a vivid imagination Tim.” , Tim continued “He was dressed like a cool james bond spy, and he left like one as well, I never got his name.” , Janet smiled “So you’ve got a new imaginary friend, that’s cute.” Tim was caught off guard “but I did see him mommy I did” he said insisting to her “i’m sure you did baby” she kissed his head “it’s getting late though, we should go home.” they finished for the night.

Months passed and Tim started seeing this man in different places, local parks, school, and even at home, at first he thought he was his friend, but he started to cough, have headaches and even seizures over a while, he kept telling his Mother but she wouldn’t believe him, he’d wet the bed and sleep with her in her bed, but the spooky man would follow him still.

The scariest thing was Tim not remembering big gaps of time, he would wake up in different places without any memory, except having that mask his mother gave him in front of him.

One scary evening he heard his mother speaking on the phone to someone, he heard the words mental hospital, and delusional.

Tim started shaking, were they going to take him away from his mommy? she was the only one he had since his parents got divorced and his dad left, he didn’t want to be alone.

His mother lied and said they were going to church, and then took him to this large hospital building, Tim didn’t want to go but his mother practically dragged him inside kicking and screaming.

“Tim this is for your own good, Stop fighting and this will be easier” she picked him up and carried him inside tantrumming “I know you don’t wanna leave mommy but your sock, you’re sick and you need help” .

Tim screamed “mommy I don’t wanna leave you please don’t leave me mommy please don’t I don’t wanna be alone with the boogeyman!!!” Tim screamed but Janet brought him inside, a man in a white coat injected him with something and he passed out, when he woke he was in an office with his mother talking to a doctor.

“He’ll be staying here for a long time, we’re looking at maybe 12 years, until we can cure him of this illness”

Tim’s mother spoke in a concerned voice “i’ve seen him try and jump off a bridge trying to kill himself, running out late at night in a mask, making himself sick with worry, don’t know where he gets it from though, maybe his dad, he was an alcoholic and had horrible mood swings before we got divorced, I just can’t take it anymore.”

the man in the white coat spoke clinically to her “you did the right thing bringing him here, we’ll be able to handle him don’t you worry.”

Tim felt his stomach turn and looked at his mommy “c-can I atleast keep the mask you gave me, it’s the only thing I have left of you mommy” Tim begged, his mother sighed and gave him the theatre mask “remember the mask is a part of me that’ll always be with you, protecting you, okay?” Tim nodded “okay mommy, thank you” Tim almost cried again and before he knew it his mother was leaving and he was being dragged to what looked to be a a weird yellow wall room with a bed, little did Tim know this would be the last time he’d ever see his mother.

Several hours passed and they kept him locked in this room, it was lonely, and boring, he couldn’t leave, he couldnt run around like a kid his age should, he was just stuck in this one room all day, he had a little window to look through atleast, another room was there and he saw another brown haired boy, Tim on a whim tried to make friends with him.

“Hey, over here!” Tim shouted

the other kid looked over him done

“what do you want.” the kid said in a droll voice

“I’m Tim, have you seen my mommy?”

the other kid spoke in a serious voice “kid let me be real, you ain’t ever seeing your mom again. once you’re in here, you ain’t leaving.”

Tim whimpered “I don’t wanna be alone…can we be friends.”

“tell you what, you get me cigarettes, and i’ll be your friend or whatever.”

“what’s your name?”

“names Jordan, i’ll teach you how to walk the walk and talk the talk here so it’s atleast bearable for you, ‘sides I feel sorry for you, you remind me of myself a couple years ago.”

“I keep seeing the boogeyman, that’s why mommy brought me in here.” Tim explained unprompted

“Yeah Im in here cause I saw someone called mr smiley the clown, no one believe me either but i’ve got the cuts and scars to prove it” he rolled up his sleeves on his mental hospital uniform and showed off his cuts then they heard the guards arrive and Jordan spoke again “hide in here you’ll get in trouble if you’re caught speaking to me.”

The guards walked in and served Tim some food, when Tim ate the sandwiches they gave him, he started to feel woozy and passed out.

Tim woke up then next day and Jordan spoke up “yeah you gotta be careful they’ll slip medicine in your food to try and keep you woozy, I always look through my food before eating.”

Tim smiled for a second “thank you for helping me, that was the first time I got sleep for quite a while.”, the guards came in to serve breakfast and while they were in Tim quickly snook a hand in the guards pocket and found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, Tim quickly chucked it in through the window to jordan’s window.

“yess this is awsome, I haven’t had a smoke in fucking ages.” Jordan celebrated

“I used to do that at school, pick pocket for change, to get pick and mix” he smiled

“yeah well it’s paying off champ good job.”

several days off this happened until Tim had his first mental breakdown in the hospital, that figure appeared in his room, and he couldn’t run, he couldn’t leave he clawed at the wall screaming all through the night.

“ITS THERE ITS THERE IT CAME FROM RIGHT THERE!!” Tim screamed crying

“IT WASNT ME I SWEAR IT WASNT ME LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!!!”

Tim sobbed in excruciating pain, this being looming above him getting closer and closer until he passed out.

He woke up, in a park, with the mask in front of him, Tim smiled, his mother was protecting him, he put the mask on like a super power and started to wander the park, he walked down a pathway to a tunnel, when his surroundings changed, and he was in the car park outside of the park.

He read the sign outside Ross-wood park, like rosswell the ufo sight, Tim laughed, god it was nice to be outside that prison, but before he knew it he heard police sirens, two cops came out and grabbed him dragging him into their car and before he knew it he was back to the hospital, they rifled threw his pockets and found the key to his room.

They upped his dosages and forced him to take medicine before shoving him back in his room, he passed out again after this, and the weeks started to zoom past over and over, before he knew it it was 1996.

one morning Jordan spoke to Tim

“Were you close with your parents?”

“yeah my mommy, she was my best friend, my daddy always hit me though, I never liked him.”

“yeah I was close with my mom and dad too, My dad worked in a hardware store, and my mom was a nurse, I woke up one day after mr smiley the clown stalked me for months, with blood all over my hands, and my parents bleeding on the floor, but I swear I didn’t do it, it was Mr Smiley. he was in the corner laughing at me!”

Tim cut him off “I believe you Jordan!”

“thank you. no one’s ever said that to me before I appreciate it.”

Tim smiled and ate his sandwiches, he’d gotten good at faking taking the pills by this one, palming them and them hiding them in the room.

Then one night he saw that horrible man in black again, he felt for his pockets and found his keys, he must have stole it from the guards in one of his memory gaps, he opened his door and ran all the way to a maintenance tunnel hiding all night, the guards didn’t find him till morning though, and they dragged him back to his room, they slapped him in the face and threw him back into his room one of the guards saying they’d give him something to cry about. Tim sobbed all night that night.

years passed again and before he knew it it was 1998, every so often the Doctors would take him in for essentially therapy sessions where they’d tell him what he was seeing wasn’t real, he used to fight them, but he got good at lying and telling them that he knew it wasn’t real.

They diagnosed him with schizophrenia, and upped his doses once again to an orange case of white pills, Tim took them and they started to let him and Jordan interact with the other patients more in a living room, one of the other in mates Jason started bullying Tim though “little pussy hahaha probably west himself every night, boogeyman boogeyman waaa waa!” Jordan stood up for Tim “hey that’s my best friend you’re talking about fuck off!”

“watcha gonna do mr smiley, gonna honk your clown horn at me!” Jason laughed and so did his cronies, that set Jordan off, he leapt onto Jason and started beating him, punching him until he was black and blue, the guards grabbed him, slammed him against the wall and injected him as he screamed all sorts of swears.

Jordan was put in solitary confinement that night and Tim didn’t hear from him, needless to say Tim wasn’t bullied by Jason any longer after that, Tim chortled to himself.

Before Tim knew it the years the flew by again, it was 2000, and someone new came to visit Tim, it wasn’t the guards, Jason, or the faceless man, but a figure with a skull for a face.

Tim was unnerved, just as he was about to open his mouth the skull faced man spoke instead “don’t scream. I have vital information for you.”

Tim tilted his head

the skull faced man continued “the faceless man you see is real, he is called the Operator.”

“what does he want?”

“to take you to the ark, his own dimension, and feed on you.”

the skull faced man crossed his arms and sighed “i’m sorry but your friend is going to die. he has his sights on him next.”

“Jordan?! no he’s my best friend can’t I stop it?!”

“it is inevitable, but do not worry, I will collect his soul so he will live on in me.”

“what does that even mean. Who are you?!”

“think of me as the grim reaper, but don’t worry, you will soon be free of this place Tim.”

Tim chased him but the skull faced figure vanished out of existence, had Tim dreamed all of that?

Jordan was starting to act strange, not mentioning me smiley anymore but a tall faceless man, he was coughing and displaying all the same symptoms as Tim, had Tim infected him?

months passed and one night Jordan was screaming, this had happened several times but Tim peaked out of his bedroom window into Jordan’s and he noticed Jordan had a pair of shears against his neck.

“Jordan don’t do it you’re my best friend! I can’t be alone again!”

Jordan spoke in a fugue state “I’ll be back with my parents, so long cruel world”

“Jordan no!!!” Tim screamed and watched his friend slit his own throat, hearing him collapse, he clenched his fist and ran to the wall punching it over and over as he cried, he was alone again, he had no mum or dad or Jordan, nobody. he was truly alone.

The next day he saw Jordan’s body being taken away by the coroners, and Tim escaped again acting up even more, flipping plates and throwing chairs and screaming “don’t you see!! can’t you HELP any of us you bastards!!!” they grabbed Tim slapping and punching him in the gut calling him crazy and all sorts of slurs, they put him in a straight jacket and brought him back to his room strapping him to his bed.

Months passed like this, almost half a year, and Tim was imprisoned every day in this straight jacket, no freedom in sight, until he saw the skull faced figure again appear in his room, the figure walked up and freed him from his straight jacket.

“It is time for your freedom.” he spoke with a reserved joy and handed him some matches, a lighter and the orange capsule of pills “burn this place to the ground and take these, they’ll help you in the future.”

Tim cried for joy.

“Thank you.”

The skull faced person left and Tim lit the matches starting with his room, he checked the door and it was thankfully unlocked, he lit several more and lit the halls ablaze, before he knew it he was outside watching the mental hospital, and the annex burning, a fire truck arrived but it was too late, everyone had been evacuated and by the time the mental hospital was finished burning it was very clear he wouldn’t be coming back.

2 years passed and Tim now in a foster home, he was going to monthly therapy sessions and generally doing better, the pills leveled him out and Jordan was a distant fuzzy memory to him now, he transferred schools and eventually went to high school.

It was 2004 and Tim was at the cafeteria of his high school, a man sat next to him with short blonde hair and a beige hoodie “Hi i’m Brian, I saw you and your own and thought, this kid looks like he needs a friend.”

Tim smiled shyly “u-uh i’m Tim, nice to meet you.

then it was 2006 and him and Brian had brought him to an audition, he met this guy named Alex Kralie and read his script, he went off to apple bees afterwards and swore he saw a thin figure in the distance, nah, must’ve just been his mind playing tricks on him, life was good.

[strawwritesfic]

Thor Odinson x Pregnant!Female!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 7]

Summary: You never imagined that shadow of death would be quite so dark.  

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive – Bonus Three – Rape Pregnancy

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (rape (not written out in detail, but the first chapter goes up to the event and the rest of the chapters deal with the fallout); assault and battery; abusive relationship; stalking; pregnancy resulting from rape; victim blaming insinuations from various characters; discussion of abortion; references to depression; references to rape kits; references to law procedures; references to restraining orders, some foul language; not Infinity War compliant; not Thor Ragnarok compliant; set post-Ant-Man and the Wasp; Hope & Reader friendship; the Pyms as Reader’s second family)

IMPORTANT NOTE: Thor is not the character involved in any of the awful things warned about above. Additionally, if there is anything you’d like me to add to the tag list, please let me know!

Pairings: Thor/Female!Reader; Scott/Hope; Hank/Janet; past!Male!OC/Reader

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List

Chapter 7: Surprise!

Night had fallen by the time you reentered your house after what seemed to be an endless day. Only the streetlamp on the distant sidewalk illuminated the ghostly shapes of sheet-covered furniture in your living room and the neat stacks of boxes that sat every few feet along your route. You did not bother to flick on an overhead light to illuminate the winding path. None were needed; the sound of conversation and the warm glow issuing from the one occupied room in your house sufficed to guide you safely to the kitchen.

"Sustenance has arrived!" Thor boomed as he followed you through the open door.

What had once been the most terrifying place in the world to you no longer had any room at all to contain fear. The dining room table had been pulled to the center of the tile, but even that could not contain all the people inside. Your usual four chairs couldn't either. Some people stood as a result. Some had pulled in chairs from other rooms. Everyone was there, however: Hank, Janet, Hope, Scott, and Cassie looked up at your arrival. The first rose to pull some of the pizza boxes from Thor's arms.

"It's about damn time," Hank grumped as he placed them on the counter by the sink and pulled one open. "The doorbell rang twenty minutes ago. We'll be lucky if anything's still warm."

"They still have a working oven if we need it, dear," Janet said.

"And if we do, I offer my apologies," said Thor, placing the remaining boxes near the oven. "The delivery man is an Avengers fan. [Name] and I had to convince him to take money in exchange for his goods and services."

"Wait. You're telling me people give you guys free stuff?" asked Scott.

"They often try. Of course, it is improper for heroes such as ourselves to accept such lavish gifts."

"Wow."

Scott's awed tone caused Hope to roll her eyes at you behind his back. You couldn't exactly blame her. Thor could easily afford to reject free food from his admirers when it wasn't his money being spent. He probably didn't even know what an American twenty-dollar bill looked like. Since the last thing you wanted was to get Hank started on a rant about Tony Stark's refusal to pay Avengers like employees, though, you kept your mouth shut and joined the line for dinner.

A tickling at your side made you look up. Now Hope stood right next to you.

"Just how many pictures did he insist on before he left?" she asked, voice low enough to go unheard above Hank and Thor's continued quarrel.

"Too many," you said tiredly.

"Poor thing. Your ankles must be killing you."

"They're not feeling great."

She took you by the shoulders and forcibly turned you toward the table. "Go sit down. I'll bring your food over."

You couldn't muster up any energy to argue with her. Bobbing up and down like a half-deflated balloon, you dragged your swollen body over to one of the now-empty kitchen chairs. There you collapsed, grateful to have just a moment to rest. Packing up your entire house in one day would have been a tall order when you weren’t in your final trimester—not that any of your friends had let you do much of anything since you were. How you could be so exhausted after so little work, you had no idea. And yet you were that exhausted. Somehow you must have fallen asleep in the midst of all the commotion. A hand on your shoulder had you starting awake only a few minutes later.

“It’s just me,” said Hope. “I brought you some food.”

In fact, she had. She slid a plate with three slices of your favorite pizza in front of you. Forgetting that you’d hardly done anything that day demanding that level of caloric intake, you snatched up the first slice and stuffed half of it in your mouth before Hope could sit down next to you. “I’m glad to see you’ve still got your appetite after everything that’s been going on,” she said.

“Indeed! My [Name] must keep her strength up for her upcoming labor!”

Thor sat down on your other side just in time to put his own two cents into the conversation. His own plate overflowed with pizza. He must have had the equivalent of at least one entire pie stacked there. Well, you’d ordered as much as you had partially because you knew how much food Thor could put away. You also knew he’d try to get you to eat some of it as well. When the doctor said you were eating for two, Thor took that comment seriously—and Asgardian babies, apparently, needed a lot of sustenance.

Cassie trotted over to one of the vacant chairs. As soon as she spotted Thor’s mountain of food, her eyes grew huge. “Woah! Is that how you became so mighty? If I eat that much pizza, will I be mighty, too?”

“You’ll probably get pretty big, Peanut,” her father said as he, too, joined your group at the table. “But I don’t think pizza will make you strong.”

“Pizza is not the necessary ingredient, little one! I am sure you already mighty for your size. If you keep working, one day you could even be worthy enough to pick up my hammer.” Thor gestured at the nearby corner. There sat Mjolnir, safely out of the way of anyone’s path.

Her eyes went even wider. “But pizza won’t make me less worthy?” “Eat as much pizza as your heart desires. Why, I eat pizza regularly and remain worthy to this day!”

Cassie grinned. Then she dove into her own meal. You noticed, however, that she kept watching Thor, and seemed to be doing her best to keep up with him as he ate.

For a little while, no one spoke. The entire group focused more on eating than on talking. It had been a long, busy day. You didn’t appreciate this moment of respite as much at the first. All the quiet served to remind you that this sort of gathering would never happen again, or at least if it did, it wouldn’t be the same. All of a sudden, you weren’t ready to face that. Every person you cared about sat in your kitchen that night. In a few days’ time, you’d be eating your meals with Thor’s friends, who, while undoubtedly good people, weren’t your friends. Only now had it really occurred to you that in leaving this house, you weren’t only giving up your beloved gardens and a job you didn’t care for much to begin with.

“Hey, [Name],” Cassie’s voice interrupted your gloomy thoughts. “You’ll be back for my soccer finals, right? We just made the playoffs yesterday!”

Hope didn’t give you a chance to answer yourself. She took Cassie’s nearest hand in hers and said, “It’s going to be hard for [Name] to travel until she has the baby.”

Cassie looked at you, crestfallen. “But you’re traveling to New York this weekend.”

“That sort of travel can’t be helped,” said Hope.

“If I can be there for your tournament, I will,” you assured Cassie, then added at Hope’s stern look, “I’ve been assured that the Bifrost is perfectly safe for unborn babies. As long as I’m not actually in labor when I use it, I should be fine.”

“So long as Kevin does not attempt to attend the event as well,” Thor said.

Hank, standing over by the sink with his wife, snorted. “Trust me. If that jackass dares to get anywhere within my line of sight, he’ll regret it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Pym.”

The sincerity in Thor’s voiced only made Hank shrug awkwardly. He wouldn’t meet Thor’s eyes or yours.

Janet stroked his shoulder. “You’re going to miss, [Name], aren’t you? We’re all going to.” She looked over at you. “You’re part of the family.”

Those words were like a dagger to your heart. Tears filled your eyes as you slowly rose to your aching feet and made your way over to where she and Hank stood. Still avoiding looking directly at you, the latter removed his glasses and sniffed. Another jolt in your stomach accompanied your realization that Hank’s eyes were wet, too.

“Hank, I’ll be back,” you said.

“Sure you will. That’s why you’re moving all the way across the country.”

“I’m moving all the way across the country because of Kevin.”

“No, you’re moving to be with the Avengers. You don’t trust us to keep you safe.”

You could have laughed at that, had there not been a gigantic, Thor-sized frog in your throat. “Hank, you’re retired. You’ve just got Janet and Hope back. I don’t want you wasting your time keeping me safe when there’s an AI in New York that can make sure I never see Kevin again.”

“She’s right, darling,” said Janet. “And you’ll come visit us, won’t you, [Name]? After all the dust has settled?”

“Of course I will. Janet’s right, Hank. You all are my family. And this little guy is going to want to see his grandparents.”

Through you fully anticipated a pause after this announcement, you had not expected it to be quite so long and thorough. Every single mouth in the room gaped at you—except for Thor’s, obviously. He’d known you were going to tell everyone about your plans this evening from the beginning.

“Grandparents?” Hank croaked.

“That’s right. Thor and I went to see the doctor this week for an ultrasound. I’m having a boy. We’ve decided to keep him and raise him as ours.”

“Kevin,” Thor said, “will have nothing to do with the baby. That is also one of the reasons for our moving. Though [Name] prevailed in obtaining protection from the court, that protection is only a piece of paper. We want to ensure the child will never have contact with Kevin.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, [Name]! Congratulations!” Janet threw her arms around you.

Hank still seemed too stunned to speak. In the vacuum of his shock, Scott, Hope, and Cassie came over to the sink as well to offer congratulations and hugs.

“I was hoping you’d be his godmother,” you told Hope when she released you.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes flooded with tears to match your own, and then she swept you up in another hug even longer than the last. This embrace only came to an end when Cassie said:

“Does this mean I’m getting a baby brother?”

Hope laughed wetly before turning to the little girl. “Not quite.”

“More like a baby cousin,” said Scott.

“Can I teach him how to play soccer?” Cassie asked.

“Once he’s old enough,” you answered.

“When’s that?”

You opened your mouth to tell not for a few years at least (no matter what Thor might say to the contrary) when Hank straightened and took a step in your direction.

Hope let you go.

“[Name],” Hank began.

He didn’t need to finish. Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wrapped your arms around him, paused, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, Hank,” you said as you let go of him.

“Harrumph,” he replied. “I’ll never forgive Kevin for what he did to you. But if you’re willing to move on and make the best of a bad situation, well, so am I.” Then he smiled. “You better bring that kid to see me all the time. Don’t you go letting Tony Stark fill his head with the wrong ideas.”

“I promise.”

You and Hank might have continued to smile tearfully at one another for another twenty minutes—or at least until you couldn’t bear standing up any longer—had Janet not suddenly squealed:

“Group hug! Group hug!”

“Wha—”

Too late! Janet interrupted Hank’s protest by way of squishing him between you and herself. Then Hope joined in, followed by Scott, then Cassie, and finally Thor, who practically lifted the whole group into the air together in his enthusiasm to participate.

“Would you kindly put me down?” Hank snapped.

Everyone laughed. Thor obliged as far as placing Hank’s feet back on the ground, but he didn’t let him go.

Warm and held at the very center of the throng, you felt only happiness and relief. No one hated you for your decision to keep the baby. Kevin would never bother you again. And most importantly of all: You weren’t really giving up anything in leaving San Francisco. All you were doing was gaining more time with Thor, and perhaps a few new friends along the way. Heaven knew you’d need a lot to get through the coming years. Fortunately, you knew the Pyms would always be there for you, and Scott and Cassie, no matter how much Thor or Tony Stark they had to endure.

[renee-writer]

Awake Chapter 152 The Meadow

AO3

“The meadow.” Bella whispers from the ground. At this, Edward joins Jake who kneels beside her.

 

“Yes, do you think you can go with us there? See if you remember anything that will help?”

 

“Yes. I have too. We have to stop what is coming.” Jake lifts her back up.

 

“I am running human with her. If you guys get there first, we will catch up.”

 

“We will keep your pace.” Edward replies.

 

“Good. Lead the way.” He lifts Bella up into his arms where she lays her head on his chest. As she shudders, Jake tightens his arms around her and follows Edward and the others.

 

“You remember this place,” she says to him, “it is where I was searching before you phased before me, when we were just Bella and Jacob. Where Laurent was.”

 

“Oh right. Very small for a battle, very compact. No wonder you can’t recall if anyone joined us.”

 

“I think, when I realized where it was taken place, I just tuned out.”

 

“Understandable. Just knowing where is going to be a big help.”

 

“No, it isn’t enough! Someone was using those rocks on you, on the pack.” At her anguished cry, Jasper is by her side.

 

“Bella, the calmer you are, the more you will be able to remember.”

 

“Thanks Jasper.”

 

“Anytime.” He answers Jacob.

 

They continue to run at a steady pace towards the meadow.

 

Edward stops through first. The Blacks and Jasper follow. As it is falling, there are no wildflowers, just grass that grows tall around them.

 

She let’s the memories take over. Seeing it for the first time with Edward. Again when she stumbled into alone, or so she thought. Prove that he existed. The feeling of loss was so deep it brought her to her knees. Seeing Laurent step out.  Thinking she was dead until Jake and the pack showed up. The intense fear as she stumbles out.

 

Jasper reads all this. He pushes peace towards her.

 

“Thanks Jaz.” She is aware that Alice and Sam and the pack are now with them.

 

“I know this is hard but anything else?” Jasper asks.

 

“Sit me down Jake.” When he does, she moves farther into the meadow, trying to push back the memories to focus on the dream. Standing in the center, where she and Edward laid that day, and closes her eyes.

 

“Jane.” She whispers before the weight of that word knocks her to her knees. Jake and Edward are at her side.

 

“Janet? Are you sure Bella?”

 

“Yes. I see her and, not Aro, the other black haired one. They aren’t fighting, just watching.”

 

“She contacted the Vultori,”  Edward hisses, “and they are sending people to fight for them.”

 

“But why?”

 

“She knows about us,” Edward answers Jacob, “therefore breaking the rules. She was supposed to become one of us. She didn’t so…”

 

“So what? They are coming to do what? Change her?”

 

“No,” Jasper says, his voice full of sadness, “to kill her so our secret is safe.”

 

Jacob growls and it echoes through the pack.

 

“Tanya seeks their help, believing if Bella is dead, Edward will return back to her?” Jacob is incredulous.

 

“So it seems.” Jasper replies.

 

“She is out of her mind!”

 

“Yes and we will find a way to stop her.” Edward promises.

 

Throughout this conversation, Bella sits rocking back and forth, staring at nothing. The Volturi, evil seemed to radiate out of Jane and her ability to knock even Edward on his back, it is overwhelming. At her shudder, Jacob draws her back against him.

 

“I will keep you and the children safe.”

 

She nods as though she agrees but inside she thinks, ‘if it comes down to a choice between any of my children and myself, I will step forward. For them, I will sacrifice my life.’

 

At this thought, Alice turns towards her with the strangest look.

 

“Do you see anything else?” Jasper asks her, “I know this is hard but any information can help.”

 

“One moment. Not see. More feel. It is hot and there are wildflowers here.”

 

“Summer. Late summer,” Jasper mumbles, “gives us about six months to plan.”

 

“For now I would like to get her home and then we can strategize with the rest of your family.”

 

“I need to deal with Tonya.” Edward growls.

 

“We need to figure that out.” Jasper replies.

 

“Figure what out! She betrayed Bella to the Volturi knowing they will try to kill her!”

 

“I know. We need these six months to safe her. I fear she will jump the gun if you confront her.”

 

Edward mumbles something under his breath to low for Bella to hear  and then walks over and punches a tree. It breaks in two, falling with a crash.

 

“Time to go home,” Jacob says, “I am going to phase back. Can run faster this way and Faith needs you.”

 

At the mention of her daughter, she feels milk fill her breasts and they start to thrub.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I will be right back. I love you.”

 

“I love you.” He hurries towards the woods.

 

“He is right. Faith needs you. As does Samuel and Solomon. So don’t even think about sacrificing yourself or I will tell Jacob and Edward.” Alice furiously whispers to her.

 

“I thought you couldn’t see me.”

 

“I couldn’t until just now. I guess the strength of your possible future broke through.”

 

“I will behave.”

 

“You better.”

 

Jake reappears in his wolf form.

 

“Jacob is anxious to go and we do need to let the others know what is going on.” Edward says as he lifts Bella onto Edward’s back. She clings to him, still in more then half a state of shock.

 

They are off. The wolves and Bella heading towards La Push. The Cullen’s towards Forks. They will meet at the Blacks to strategize later.

 

She sees nothing though her eyes are wide open. She feels nothing but fear, it overwhelms everything else.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #19 - Fanfic Friday #3

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction, posted daily and usually written with the intention of being terrible… in an endearing way. Please enjoy these continuing adventures in The Good Place.

Tahani Al-Jamil stood poised over the test-room control panel, wearing her navy blue tailored suit and treasured peacock-patterned bow tie. As soon as Vicky gave the go-ahead, she’d pull the lever and her very first solo design would go into motion. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead. Maybe this was biting off more than she could chew.

The green light went on. It was time. “Here we go,” Tahani said quietly as she activated the test.

On the viewing screen, the set sprang to life - a perfect replica of the oval office (and Tahani should know, since she’d been invited there thrice and visited once). But the human seated behind the desk didn’t seem very animated at all. She double-checked all her knobs and switches - they were set exactly as they were supposed to be.

She zoomed in on the monitor. “Ah…” she said to herself. “He must have died in his sleep.” She held her finger on the button next to the microphone. “Glenn, would you please wake him?”

“No problem,” the bespectacled demon replied from just outside the door to the oval office. “Would you like a sudden, startling kind of thing? Or should I wake him gently, like with a lullabye? Wait, lullabies make humans go to sleep. Sorry, forget that. Maybe I could brew some coffee and hold it under his nose?”

Tahani hesitated before replying. “Just… do what you think is best, Glenn. I trust you.” She let go of the button.

“Thanks Tahani.” Glenn burst into the oval office, screaming at the top of his lungs and flailing his arms in the air. “MR. PRESIDENT, MR. PRESIDENT! IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

The president jolted awake in his seat and looked around, panicked and confused. “Where am I?”

“The Soviet Union has unleashed a nuclear assault on the United States! What do we do?!?”

“Goddammit, I’ve made this very clear! We strike back!”

“But…” Glenn stammered. “But that’ll kill millions!”

“What do I care? They’re not Americans.” The president got up, adjusted the collar of his jacket, and began hobbling toward the exit. “Come on, boy, to the bomb shelter!”

“Humanity could go extinct!”

“What the hell are you arguing with me, for? Stay up here and get yourself killed for all I care.”

“But the innocents -”

“It’s like I said, boy, it’s like I say every damn day! Fork ‘em!”

Tahani put her hand over her face. “Oh, no.”

The president paused in his gait. “Why can’t I say fork?”

Tahani shut off the test. “Sorry, everyone. False start.”

“Tahani…” Glenn said, “This may not be my place to comment, but are you sure this is the best approach? It seems… simple.”

“Glenn’s right.” Vicky’s voice projected into the room. “This isn’t up to your normal standard, Tahani. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Of course I am!” she replied, reflexively and defensively.

“You know it’s still very impressive for a human to have put all this together.”

“I will impress without the need to qualify that it is good for a human. Give me some time to take this back to the drawing board.”

“You can have all the time you want, but eventually someone is going to scoop up the Kissenger file. I know you’ve had your heart set on it, but I’m going to have to let someone else take a crack at it if you can’t handle the pressure.”

“I can! Undoubtedly, I can! I’m just in a… sophomore slump. Like my old friend Leo when he hit fifty and had to stop dating college freshmen and start dating sophomores.”

“Maybe you should just take an easier one in the meantime? Chidi is still up for grabs.”

Tahani double-took. “Chidi?”

Michael and Janet appeared behind Tahani and she turned around to greet them.

“Oh, my goodness! It’s been so long!” She speedwalked over and hugged them tightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“An emergency.” Michael replied, his voice cracking. “To an emergency you owe the pleasure.”

Janet continued Michael’s message. “Departed human souls are returning to the afterlife, their memories reset to who they were when they died.”

“So, two things:” Michael said. “We don’t know why they’re coming back, and we don’t know how we’re going to handle the increase in test volume. Oh! And we don’t know how quickly they’ll keep coming back.” He swallowed loudly. “That’s… that’s three things.”

Janet smiled. “We need your help, Tahani.”

Tahani laughed nervously. “I’d be delighted to!”

Meanwhile, through the sparkling green door around the corner, Eleanor and Chidi snuck into the room.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 301

Funeralla/Rosa

“Funeralla”

Plot Description: eager to find Gabriel, Sam, Dean, and Castiel consider some risky options. Rowena’s tampering with fate puts all of humanity in danger

Did I talk at all about how Gabe really and literally burned Azmodeus up? I feel like I didn’t and I feel like I should have

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I would NEVER make an enemy of Rowena, so she’d have no reason to kill me. I’d be more like the boy toy she had tagging along with her

Also Cas saying “Rowena’s right. You never go to parties” like….sir, do you remember what show we’re on?

Sorry, more Cas thoughts…babes, why do you think Dean wouldn’t know what a Hail Mary play is? Like…you only recently learned all human idioms. They had to create Jack to take your wide eyed, confused about humans place

Yes, Sammy, justify Rowena’s setting that rich woman ablaze. Join my side

Dean’s giving into too many bad ideas, I think

I like this angel that’s supposed to be guarding the gates of heaven. Oh no…he was being snarky to cover up how depressed he is and how little he believes anything matters anymore 😭

Nooooooooo. I’m glad Castiel is getting help from the angels but are they gonna try to put him in a leadership position again??

I sure hope nothing bad happens to this reaper. She’s apparently been keeping tabs on the boys since Dean almost died when Billie was revealed to be the new Death. She knows entirely too much about them (please don’t eat that three day old burger in your room, Dean. Please throw it out when you get back. NO! IT IS NOT FOR EMERGENCY CASES ONLY! IT IS FOR THE TRASH CAN, DEAN!!)

All-powerful Rowena is very hot

I can’t believe they’re summoning Jessica the reaper like she’s Siri or Janet from The Good Place

I have to know what Dean thinks is Ashton Kutcher’s best movie…

This is me officially turning my back on Sam forever no matter I say in his favor ever again. He’s destined to kill Rowena, and I can’t forgive that

THE WAY MY STOMACH TURNED HEARING NAOMI’S VOICE

Lmaoooo the angels lost their wings so long ago, Dean got unused to people just popping up in the backseat of his car

Hmmmmm…is Rowena trying to negotiate immortality for herself??

I did not realize the angel shortage was THAT DIRE. There’s about eleven left….anywhere, and that’s why heaven’s having power surges

God I love Rowena. Is she killing bad people in the pharmaceutical industry who lied about their product and hurt thousands of sick people? Yes…but she’s not doing it for the “right” reasons

Ohhhhhhhh, oh. She wants Crowley back 🥺 that’s why she’s trying to get Death’s attention

Bernard (Roro’s boy toy) is the most relatable character to me “she’s powerful, she’s gorgeous, and she’s paying me a small fortune. That woman didn’t have to cast a spell on me” I need him protected, but Dean’ll probably kill him :/

I love that she can stop witch killing bullets now 💖

Billie’s hands off policy for reapers is getting to be a liability for the boys. Rowena’s got Sam, and Dean could have gotten there sooner if Jessica could have helped him kill Bernard

Billie’s fair but….it still feels cruel.

It’s really off putting to hear that, in this universe where heaven and hell are very real places, “everything ends” includes heaven

Normally when you fight Death and lose, you die. But Rowena is special like that i guess

“Rosa”

Plot Description: the Doctor and her friends encounter a seamstress named Rosa Parks

Fuck that bus driver. Stole her money and drove off

1955 Alabama is…an interesting place to forget is very dangerous for Ryan to be running around with his modern sensibilities

It’s not often that the local police force of an American town is a potential hindrance for the Doctor and companions

Who is this dude following them around?! I know that’s not what the new Master looks like

Pfffffft, the Doctor insinuating she could be banksy

Omg Graham telling the officer he’s Steve Jobs

The optimism expressed in this show is nice and I have to remember that this is a family show because…otherwise I’d be a little too jaded for it

Why does this guy want to stop Rosa from being on that bus so badly??

To be fair, if we’re in a room with Rosa Parks and MLK, I’d have a hard time not constantly using their full names, too, Ryan

Oh. The guy who was trying to stop Rosa was just racist……not the most interesting motivation, especially since Ryan got rid of him pretty quickly and easily with the dude’s own vortex manipulator

Obviously living in the Jim Crow south is harder, but strictly speaking from a character perspective, it must be hard for Graham to be one of the white people on that bus. His recently deceased wife ADORED Rosa Parks to the point that on their first date, when she found out he was a bus driver, she made sure he wasn’t like the one who told Rosa to move. This must feel like he’s betraying her

But they kept history from being nudged so I guess that’s that

[wordsfromthesol]

Reconciliation

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You seek the help of an old friend when you accidentally end up in the middle of a blood bath. Word Count: 1.8k

It all started ages ago, when you walked into the same class as the infamous Timothy Drake. If it wasn't for the Wayne Grant, your parents would never have been able to send you to such a fancy school…not that you understood that at 5 years old. Since that day the two of you were inseparable. You had practically lived at Drake Manor, and when Mr. Freeze killed your parents, you did. Not that Jack and Janet had any idea.

A few years later Jack and Janet were gone and Tim was taken in by none other than Bruce Wayne himself. Thankfully, Tim let you remain in his house. At first, everything was normal, but after the first year, he started to visit you less and less. He became more distant and secretive with each interaction and eventually, he stopped coming altogether. You made the decision to leave once you graduated high school, after all, it had been over a year since Tim had bothered to come see you. What would he care?

You jumped on a bus, clutching a backpack full of your belongings…and a few things from the Drake Manor. Somehow you lucked into a full-time nanny job for some wealthy family a few hours away. You were afforded a small living quarters, a stipend, and access to anything already at the mansion. The little girl was only 3 years old at the time. It's hard to believe that was 2 years ago.

You and Kaylee were upstairs when you heard a large group of people force their way through the front door. As you peaked out of the room, you saw a parade of people with their guns drawn. Immediately you rushed back into the room and whispered, "We are going to play a game."

"Game?" The child's ears perked up. You nodded your head as you made your way to the window. Opening it, you slowly climbed out and motioned for her to follow. You had no idea how long you stayed up there, pressed against the side of the house praying no one came looking. Eventually, the noises had stopped.

"Wait right here for me, okay?" She nodded as you made your way back to the window. "Don't move a muscle until I come for you." Your mouth hung open as you descended the staircase. Bloodstained the room as bodies littered the floor. As you walked over to the filleted bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Barco, your vision blurred as you felt the back of a hand strike your face. Staggering backward, you opened your eyes to see a man grinning before you. His eyes trailed down your cheek and landed on the sizable ring that graced his own finger. You began to feel the warm blood drip down your cheek. A state of panic washed over you just as you felt your knuckles collide with his ribs. Dodging his next blow, you thrust your shoulder into him and grappled for the gun tucked in his waistband. He looked almost pleased as he stared down the barrel.

"Whatcha gonna do with that, hun?" When you refused to answer, he continued. "You know you're going to be dead soon. What's the point…" Your eyes locked onto his hand, which was slowly inching towards your own.

**

The ringing in your ears had just barely subsided when you reached the top of the stairs. You slowly climbed out the window and ushered Kaylee to come inside. Her feet had just touched the ground as the words lucidly fell from your lips. "I need you to promise me that you won't open your eyes. We are going on a surprise trip." If Kaylee could tell something was wrong, she wasn't letting you know. You walked as fast as you could with the small child on your hip.

Your mind had gone completely blank, your eyes glazed over as you drove. You didn't know where you were going, but your motions seemed instinctive. As you pulled up to the gates, everything began to wash over you. Pressing the call button, the only words you could stutter out were: "It's Y/N. I need Tim." Thankfully, the message worked and the gates began to open. You drove up to the ornate front door, but couldn't force yourself out of the car. A knock on the window shook you out of the trance. It was Alfred.

"Mx Y/N, welcome. Perhaps you and your guest would be more comfortable in the house. I have already summoned Master Timothy." You just nodded as you stepped out of the car. Every move your body made relied on muscle memory: opening the back door of the car, unfastening Kaylee's car seat, placing her on the ground beside you. Alfred led you inside to the kitchen before kneeling down and facing Kaylee. "And what is your name?"

"KAYLEEEE!" She gleefully screamed at him.

"Ahhh, Miss Kaylee. How would you like a snack?" Kaylee's eyes went wide as she furiously nodded her head up and down. Kaylee looked up to you for permission as Tim rounded the corner, already speaking.

"Alfred, what's so --" Tim froze as he saw you sitting at the kitchen counter.

"You my Y/N/N's friend?" Kaylee narrowed her eyes as she glared at Tim. Her eyes softened as Tim slowly shook his head yes. "Make sure they get ban aid. Prefably a princess one." Once satisfied, she turned her attention back towards Alfred and her snack.

**

You turned towards Tim, revealing the gash on your cheek surrounded by a newly forming bruise. Tim rushed to your side, grasping your hand in his, just as the words began spilling from your mouth. "Tim, I'm so sorry. I just didn't know where else to take her. They were dead..."You felt your body giving out, "all of them…"

"Calm down. We'll figure this out. You need rest." He refused to let you speak anymore as he scooped you up from the chair and carried you upstairs. Carefully, Tim sat you on his bathroom counter and began cleaning the wound. Once it was bandaged he brought you over to the bed. "Now what happened?" He looked at you, his heartbreaking as he watched the tears fall from your eyes.

"They're dead. So many bodies. Tim, I can't see anything but blood." You collapsed into his chest, trying to conceal the overwhelming panic.

**

You had no idea how long you stayed like that, all you know is you woke up with Kaylee cuddled to your chest and Tim sitting at the adjacent desk.

"Tim?" His eyes shot up at the sound of your voice. You slowly got up and walked down the hall and into the study. You didn't check to see if Tim was following you, but you knew he was. Ignoring the unknown man already occupying the room, you continued onto the balcony. "I just don't know what happened." Your eyes glazed over as you stared into the distance. You knew if you looked at Tim, you would break down again. "People stormed in with guns. Me and Kaylee hid. Once I came back in, everyone was dead. Her whole family. Their security team. Everyone. And then this man came up and struck me. I thought I was dead. All I could think of was Kaylee, sitting on the roof, alone, confused. And I shot him." You turned around and stared into Tim's dark blue eyes. "They're going to kill me now. Aren't they?" The tears bubbled up, but you refused to let them fall.

"Y/N, how much did you know of that family?" Concern laced his voice. That voice that you hadn't heard in years. That voice that used to be your home.

"They were rich and needed a nanny." You looked down at your fiddling fingers, "I didn't have many options, so I didn't ask any questions."

Tim took a deep breath, pushing down his anger. "They are…were one of the biggest crime families in the country." The words rang in your mind as you forced your eyes back on the horizon. You didn't even realize Kaylee had woken up and walked into the study. Or that the unidentified man took her by the hand and led her from the room carrying a fairytale book. "You really didn't know?" Tim's brows furrowed.

Too many emotions were spinning around your head until one of them exploded. "Why the fuck would I know that?!" You made no attempts to sedate your anger.

"You worked for them for years, Y/N!"

"Well clearly you knew, so maybe an old friend should've warned me!" The anger wasn't geared towards him, not really. Though seeing him again, feeling all this again, that's something you never thought you'd have to do. And that was just the icing on the cake. An eerie silence blanketed the air. "I shouldn't have come here," you mumbled before turning to leave. "I shouldn't have put you in danger."

**

Tim stood stoic as your words played over and over in his mind. He never told you of his nightly activities for this exact reason. So you wouldn't be thrust into this chaotic world. And now here you are, begging for his help, and he let you walk away. Again.

A pillow slammed into his face, knocking him from the stupor. "Probably not a good idea to let them leave. Love of your life, Barco heiress, not a great combination."

"Shit." Tim pushed past Jason, ignoring his snide remarks because unfortunately, he was right. Tim grabbed your arm just as you opened the front door. "Wait!" Tim yelled as he pushed the door closed. "I can't let you leave."

"Wh --"

"Look," Tim cut you off and began pulling you through the house. "I need to show you something."

**

"Where…where am I standing right now?"

"The Batcave." His voice faltered as he stopped in front of his Red Robin costume.

"So you're a superhero? Are you kidding me?"

"I don't have any powers, so I don't think I would qualify…" Tim's voice trailed off as he watched your eyebrows raise and a disapproving smirk form. "Anyways. I can help. I want to help."

"I can't ask you to do that." You tried to turn away, but Tim laid his hands on your shoulders. His eyes lingered on yours.

"You were supposed to be safe. Away from me. That's the only reason I let you go. I was wrong. You're safer with me and I'm not letting you go again."

[mcondance]

other side of the game; hobie brown

summary // hobie swings by when you’re cleaning your room, and you know exactly what he wants.

cw // dubcon-ish (you say stuff akin to no but like.. you want it. it’s just a game you n hobie play), they talk a lot of shit, missionary

extras // you and hobie r Black so i don't wanna hear anything abt the grammar i used! "it's supposed to be doesn't" kill yourself idc, the song has. nothing to do with what happens in this fic btw it just.. it makes sense when you read it and it helped me write

wc // 2.6k

song shoutouts // special thanks to other side of the game by erykah badu and i get lonely by janet jackson

signing off // thank you to poetnon for this idea i hope you like this <3

.

.

.

you know the second you hear the knocks at your window that you won't be getting anything else done today. he does this every fucking time.

walking across your room, you unlock the window for your boyfriend, eyes meeting his as you psyche yourself up for what you know is coming.

you return your attention to your desk, and with your back turned to him, you hear him slide his lanky body through the frame, landing softly on your carpeted floor.

"you busy?" he muses pointlessly, already shrugging his jacket off and reaching down to untie his boots. player one, ready?

"yeah," you hum pointlessly too, hands fiddling with the trinkets on your desk. maybe if you don't look at him, you won't cave. player two, ready?

"what you up to?" his voice grows closer. you close your eyes, breathing deep and slow to try to build your resolve, but you can hear him inching towards you, the clinging of his belts giving his movements away.

"cleanin' my room." you spin around, figuring you'd face your doom instead. his shoes are off now, placed up against the wall under your window. and now the game has started.

"mhm. well don't let me stop you," he smiles, and you wish you could say that it didn't put another dent in your already rusty resolve, but it does. with shaking hands crossed in front of you, you push yourself up and away from your desk and move across your room to your pile of clothes, folding shit hastily, already so fucking nervous.

he takes your place leaning against your desk and scans your room, taking in how much you’ve already gotten done. it makes him feel a little less bad about what he’s going to do. “looks good already. how long you been cleanin’?”

“since like, 10.”

“mhm. ‘s 2:24 now. think you’re ready for a break?” you snap your head towards him, rolling your eyes and screwing your lips up at the implications of his words.

“not the kinda break you’re talking about,” you sneer, rolling your eyes again as you return your focus to the meaningless pile of clothes.

“and what kinda break is that?”

“the kinda break when you end up inside me. i don’t have time for it.” you don’t face him as you speak. you can’t. if you do, it’s all over. you don’t want it to end just yet. it’s fun. it always is.

“what, you think ‘m just tryna get in your pants? i jus’ think my girl should have a little rest, yeah?” at his words you drop the shirt in your hand, switching gears to organize your nightstand instead.

“you’re lying. you always do this.”

“do what?”

“this. you come here and sweet talk me and the next thing i know i’m under you and my room doesn’t get cleaned. i’m not doing this today.”

he’s silent— your brain isn’t. you know it’s only a matter of time until he’s doing exactly what he’s doing now.. wrapping his slim fingers around your waist and pulling you back onto him.

speaking directly against your ear, he finally comes out with what he wants. “take a break, baby, lemme make you feel good." his lips meet your neck, ghosting over your heated skin.

"can't, hobes, i gotta clean up,” you whine, but it's futile at this point, cause you're already leaning back onto him, already tilting your neck to the side to give him more access, already dropping the half-empty water bottle in your hand.

"you sure, love? y'can clean up after we're done, hm? i'll help you.” he sounds earnest, like he really cares. you shake your head no, but you let him pull you away from your desk and turn you around. "gotta clean," you repeat, but you let him push you down onto your ruffled sheets.

"then clean." he’s standing over you now with his hands tucked into his pockets, and he motions towards the pile of clothes with his head, knowing eyes fixed on your frame sprawled out on your bed. from here, the light frames him perfectly, and he looks so damn pretty. maybe you'll blame what you do next on that. doesn't matter now, though. eyes meeting, you both know you're not getting up— seconds pass with you both staring, a silent confirmation, and hobie knows your answer.

shrugging, he leans down with his hands still in pockets, placing a damning kiss on your lips, murmuring "gave you a chance, baby. knew you didn't give a fuck about cleanin'." and he's right, embarrassingly so, so you roll your eyes, channeling your faux-frustration into a rough kiss, curling your hands under the straps of his t-shirt.

he falls forward, hands flying from his pockets to balance himself on top of you. smiling against your lips, he speaks again, “see. . you want it. you’re desperate.”

his hips start to rock against yours, stacked belts clinging against your dangling legs. hands finding the side of his face, you huff at his irritating need to almost shame you, to show for some made-up record that no matter how much you turn him down, you want him. you need him.

so you push your hips against his, humming at the groan that flies from his lips. tapping your thigh, he ushers you up the bed, your bodies turning until your head is laid on your pillows.

he reaches down between you two, sliding your shorts to the side to rub his fingers against your already sloppy cunt, smiling when he feels and sees how wet you are. “cleaning my ass,” he jokes, kissing you before you can get upset again.

sliding his fingers up, he brushes the pads of them over your sensitive clit, swallowing the pretty moans that start to flow from your spit-slicked lips. hobie knows you like the back of his hand, knows just how much pressure you need, how tight his circles have to be, knows how to make you cum hard, and cum fast.

it’s always like this when he comes by with the goal to distract you— you always end up under him with whatever you have on pushed hastily to the side, fully clothed and his hand between your legs, shaking arms wrapped around his neck. it’s desperate, really, both your need to get off.

though you try to remain steadfast, try to act like you don’t want this, the way your hips move against his hand gives you away. “did all that sayin’ ‘no’, bu’ look.” he points his eyes down, towards where his hand is hovering above your cunt, fingers glistening.

“‘course ‘m wet, don’t mean shit.”

“it don’t? that’s wild, love,” he slides two fingers in without warning and presses his thumb against your clit before he starts his circles again, other hand moving to hold you in place when you thrash against him, “cause last time i had t’almost beg. ‘n the time before that, i did beg.”

you know what he’s trying to say, and it makes heat rise in your face and makes your eyes close, cause you can’t face him. no matter, though, cause he grabs your face, spits, “open your eyes. look a’me.”

you open your eyes and meet his low ones, ones that are always black with lust, ones that bore straight through you and make you feel so small and dirty underneath their gaze. he nods at your obedience, and then his fingers catch that spot inside you, and the licks of flame inside you morph into something like a fire, lighting you up with pleasure. you’re close, so close.

“you’re gettin’ easier, baby. act all you want, you’re desperate.” that sends you over the edge, and it’s embarrassing. it’s filthy, how he just has to talk to you a little mean and you’re cumming on his fingers, shaking as you choked out sobs of his name, like you weren’t just telling him to leave you alone 10 minutes ago.

before you even come down he’s kissing you, pulling your shirt up to free your tits.

"fuck you." you spew as you separate, but you still pull him closer, position him where his clothed dick rubs right against your cunt, kept away by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts that have almost rolled back into place.

"you will, in a second," he bites back, a wicked smile plastered across his ethereal features— features that are driving you fucking insane.

you’ve grown sick of his mouth— fisting his hair, you yank hard, drawing a pained moan from him and another drag of his cock against you. “you keep talking all this shit, but you’re the one who came up to my window looking for some ass. i don’t wanna hear it.”

“yeah? and you’re the one who kept going on about havin’ to clean your room, but i got you in bed so easy. we’re both fucked.”

and it’s true. the statement grounds both of you, and you both realize just where you are— inches apart, seconds away from what you both want. snapping out of it at the same time, your hands tangle together as you reach for each other’s bottoms, you freeing his pretty dick and him ripping your shorts right down the middle.

you laugh at his haste, his deep chuckles mixing with your giggles, foreheads meeting as you both calm down after your frenzy.

“‘m sorry. still forget how strong i am.”

“‘s fine. just fuck me already.”

“ehhh,” hand around his cock, sliding his tip up and down your waiting cunt, he teases once more, “y’sure you don’ wanna clean? room’s still a bit messy.”

“hobie, i swear to god, if you do not put it in me now i will pin you down and take it.” reading your eyes, he can tell you’re dead serious.

“‘s much as i’d love that,” he slides in with a pretty groan, and you wrap your arms around his neck with a throaty whine, “i want you like this.” pushing his hips up, he seats himself inside you.

breathing heavy, you both just take a second to calm down, to bask in the feeling of being intertwined with your lover again, no matter how annoying they can be. with closed eyes, you throw your head back, resting on your pillows. hobie takes that as a sign to spread kisses down your jaw, grinning when you smile.

“move,” you breathe, shifting your hips to give him better access.

that first stroke always drives you both crazy. the slow pull out, faces contorting in pleasure, bodies getting closer and closer until the next best thing is merging together again, you pushing down and him pushing up and then his cock takes its rightful place inside you, sensitive tip leaking against your cervix.

“‘m all the way in, love, can feel the end of you,” he murmurs against your neck, and you nod, curling your arms tighter around his neck. then, he just grinds, circles his hips, just barely pulling out.

it’s perfect, the way your bodies move against each other, giving and receiving pleasure at the end of the game you both love playing. with fluttery glides and soft slides, and pitchy whines and deep groans, you dunk yourselves into that familiar pool of feeling, let it fill up your noses and mouths until it’s spilling over, your bodies shaking and jerking against each other.

blissed out of your fucking minds, your lips meet the others, lazy connects of your lips that you can just barely call kisses. they’re slack-jawed and sloppy, spit-swapping, the lewd smacks filling the air, mixing with the harmony of fucked-out sounds.

slowly, hobie starts moving his hips around differently, on a mission now, one that has you tensing up, cause it never takes him long to find it, that sweet spot that has you—

“fuck,” you drawl, throwing your head back, and hobie just smiles and keeps his hips moving that way, keeps his cock kissing that same spot.

"that's it?" he hums.

when you try to articulate what you're feeling, try to tell him "yeah", the words never come. instead, he's raising up to spread your legs and balancing himself above you, switching from slow grinds to deep thrusts that have him pressing against that spot even more now.

now, with him slapping his hips against yours and his thumb on your clit, the sound fills the room, skin against skin. jolting against him, his eyes are still trained on yours, fixed on the furrow of your eyebrows and the o-shape your lips make, focused on how pretty you look when he fucks you.

your choppy moans fill his ears, the background to his barrage of words that fill yours. sentences about how pretty you look, how good you feel, how he just wants to fuck you forever, and then for the second time without warning, you cum again, right when he says something about wanting to keep you fucked and filled, "'s why i keep comin' over, cause i wan' you full of me all the time."

it's gentle, this time, streams of feeling flowing softly through you. hobie makes sure to keep his pace steady through it all, makes sure he prolongs it as long as he can.

when you come down, you're pushing up on his hips with shaking hands, nodding your head and telling him to move. he doesn't waste a second, lifts up and grabs your headboard with one hand to give himself some leverage, his other hand resting on your calf. this time around, he's forgotten all that slow shit.

he rocks his hips hard and fast, jolting you up, and your back rubs against your sheets, your hands fly to your thighs to ground yourself.

"keep 'em open," he slurs, eyes fixed on where he disappears inside you, on the way you cream on his cock, his pretty dick painted white. "watch," he tells you, "she swallow me up so nice." his tone is awe-filled, brown eyes lit up at the visual of you taking him so well.

your eyes roll back in your head, another wave of arousal overtaking you and you can't watch any longer or you'll go crazy, so you watch his face instead. watch his pretty fucking face contort in pleasure, watching his eyebrow piercings dance in the light, watch his sharp jaw clench when you clench around him.

and god, it’s building up again. how could have ever even thought you’d clean up today, when this is so much better. “you gonna cum?” he asks, cause he knows your tells better than you do. you nod shakily, hands gripping onto your thighs so hard you swear you feel your fingers going numb.

“then do it.” it’s an order, really, and you know what he means. hand flying to your clit, you rub messy circles, and hobie moves his hand from your calf to your thigh to keep you open for him. nodding with wild eyes, he watches you make yourself cum, watches your circles became sloppy side-to-side motions while you whine and almost fucking cry, watches your cunt clamp down on him and suck him in “like she don’t wanna let go.”

through the mind-fuck in your head, you hear him groan loud, and then he’s cumming too, gripping your headboard so hard you swear you hear a soft crack, but fuck the headboard, cause hobie looks so pretty when he cums that it don’t even matter.

laughing, blissed out of your minds, hobie lays down on top of you, breathing hard and sweaty as shit, just like you are.

“i really did need to clean my room though, hobie.” you hum, turning your head to face him.

“i wasn’t just tryin’ to get in your pants, love, i was serious about helpin’,” he mumbles against your neck. and he does help. by the time he’s sliding back through your window and kissing you goodbye, your room is perfect.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 13

First

Previous

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim was in the middle of a particularly boring meeting when a tiny buzz in his pocket alerted him that Marinette had left the house.

He blinked a little and, after mumbling a quick apology, pulled out his phone to silence it.

He couldn’t tell where she was going right then, it was too early to tell, but he noted absently that she was walking a little faster than normal. He shook his head to himself and resolved to check again once the meeting was over.

But he didn’t have to!

His secretary rushed in just as his last business partner left. She looked frazzled. “I tried to keep them out but they insisted and --!”

“Who? What? Janet, what’s wrong --?”

His attention was quickly pulled away from her, though, because Marinette was stumbling through the threshold.

He rushed forward to catch her on instinct, slipping his arms around her tightly. “Bean?”

She pulled her face out of his chest and smiled awkwardly at him. “Uh… hi, darling. Hate to disturb you during work, but...”

Tim frowned, concerned. He didn’t think she was clumsy (and he would have noticed by now if she was) and, now that he was looking, she looked a little pale. Was she sick? Did she even get sick?

And then he noticed someone standing in the doorway she had stumbled through -- no, she had been pushed through it, he thought as he took in the blond’s cold expression. Tim’s frown deepened and his grip tightened on his girlfriend.

Then, the blond sighed. “I’m Adrien, her friend from Paris. Don’t know if she’s told you about me, though.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed just a little. “Janet, it’s my lunchtime, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, looking between the three of them with barely concealed interest.

“Great. Lock the door behind yourself, please.”

Janet seemed a little put out but nodded and went to do what he asked without complaint. He made a mental note to give the poor girl a raise.

He waited until he heard the familiar click of the lock before turning his gaze back onto Adrien. The blond’s scowl had deepened. Tim bit his lip anxiously, considering what deescalation method would be best, but he didn’t know enough yet. He decided to just wait a little longer before doing anything. Marinette was safe in his arms and Adrien was still a little away so there wasn’t any immediate danger as far as he was aware.

“So, you do know his schedule, then?” Adrien asked.

Marinette wouldn’t quite look at the man. “We live in the same house.”

“Did you know before you were living in the same house?” He pressed.

She didn’t answer.

Adrien scoffed a little, shaking his head. “Of course. I knew I should have kept you in Paris where I could see you.”

Well, that’s a little controlling, a tiny part of Tim piped up. He would have said it aloud, too, but there was something bugging him about the blond. He couldn’t place it, but he was pretty sure he recognized him from somewhere...

It clicked and he took a half-step back with Marinette still silent in his arms. “Agreste, right?”

The blond winced. “Dupain-Cheng now,” Adrien said carefully. “In everything but name, at least, I’m still waiting to see if I can get a name change.”

Tim glanced down at Marinette for confirmation and she quirked her lips upward, which was bat for ‘yes’.

He relaxed just a little and let her go now that he knew it was safe. Okay. So, this was just her friend -- no, her brother -- and apparently he was annoyed about something. Their relationship, maybe, since he had brought her to Tim’s work.

… oh, shit, maybe this was Chat Noir. Tim’s eyes flicked down to where the ring usually was in pictures and, yep, that was the same ring but in white. That explained how he’d gotten there quickly despite the fact that he had to be on the no-fly list with a father like that.

But his anger seemed focused on Marinette, which was odd. Tim had figured it would be pretty even.

Tim cracked a grin. “Nice to meet you. You could have just called, though.”

Adrien looked a little sheepish, now, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What I need to tell you isn’t really the kind of thing you can tell someone over the phone.”

“I meant a call for an appointment. You’re my girlfriend’s brother, I obviously would have wanted to meet you in person.”

He snickered. “You’d be the first. Most people don’t want to meet the family for a good long while.”

Tim shrugged. “I would have liked to know when you’d appear. Easier to prepare that way.”

“I see.”

There was a beat as the two men sized each other up before Adrien sighed and leaned back against the door. “I guess it’s easier to show you than explain it to you.”

Tim watched with interest as Adrien pulled an object from his ear and tossed it over. He caught it easily and turned the object in his fingers. It was like his comm but it was red with black polka-dots.

Oh. He knew what this was.

He handed it over to Marinette without even bothering to listen (Who wants to hear their own voice? No one. Ew.).

“Yeah, she listens in on all of my conversations, I know.”

Marinette and Adrien both froze up, then turned their gazes on him in shock. Tim might have laughed if Adrien’s expression didn’t morph into a horrified look.

“You… you know I planted bugs on you?” Asked Marinette tentatively.

“I’ve known since day one -- I think. Or, at least, near day one,” said Tim with a shrug. He pointed over at the flower on his desk, the bug hidden in the petals. “I don’t mind, though, that’s just part of being a vigilante, in my opinion.”

“You’re a --? Nevermind, that’s not the point here.” He sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s not. She does this to all her crushes.”

“I do it to anyone I care about.”

Adrien seemed to think he was insane.

Marinette, however, was nodding vigorously. “See?! I told you! It’s a thing!”

“It’s a thing,” agreed Tim. “Everyone in my family does it, too, though we tend to prefer trackers and following people to auditory bugs…”

“What the heck?” Muttered Adrien.

Tim continued on despite this: “Even Duke does it sometimes, and he’s the closest thing we have to sane, so it’s probably okay.”

Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at nothing for a while, clearly thinking hard about how to approach this. Tikki floated out of Marinette’s purse to go over and pet his hair in an attempt at comfort. It wasn’t working, but at least someone tried. Eventually, he pulled out his phone.

“Stalking: the act or crime of willfully and repeatedly following or harassing another person in circumstances that would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death especially because of express or implied threats.”

“... I haven’t followed or harassed him,” said Marinette.

“And I’m trying to prevent injury or death. Have you met Marinette? Leave her alone for too long and she will find a new way to get herself killed.”

Marinette huffed. “Like you’re any different. I can already count at least three major villains that you regularly piss off and I’ve only lived here a few months.”

“One of the first things you said to any of us was that you had broken your leg but it was fine. I have reason to be concerned.”

Adrien groaned. “We’re getting off topic here, guys. The point is that this is the textbook definition of stalking --.”

“But neither of us feel even a little bit uncomfortable about it,” Marinette argued.

“That would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death. Clearly, neither of you are reasonable.”

Tim shook his head. “That’s not really what the reasonable person clause is for. It’s for people that are trying to get money over nothing.”

“It still applies!”

Tikki shook her head. “Adrien, they’re not going to get it.”

“But they need to.”

“We’re still here, y’know,” said Tim. Marinette waved her arms in the air to see if they had somehow gone invisible.

“They don’t want to,” Tikki explained gently, ignoring them.

Alright, they were going around in circles it seemed and Adrien and Tikki weren’t responding well to their current arguments… so, new arguments were needed. A short recess was called so the two teams could discuss their rebuttals in opposite corners of the room. When had this turned into a debate? Who knows.

They decided to go after morality first (it seemed like the best bet since they were all vigilantes): “Bean, you’re happy, right?”

“Yep. You?”

“Of course. Happier than I was when I was single, that’s for sure.”

Marinette blushed a little and laced her fingers with his. “Great. Me too. Now, Adrien, don’t you want us to be happy?”

Adrien scoffed. “Okay, no, you don’t get to do that. I obviously want you to be happy but I don’t want you to be in an unhealthy relationship. Because that’s what this is: unhealthy.”

“Unusual doesn’t necessarily mean unhealthy,” said Marinette with a frown.

“No, it doesn’t, but… listening in on his private conversations? Following and tracking her? Don’t you think that maybe you should be setting more firm boundaries with each other?”

“... nah,” said Tim.

“How about this: if he crosses a line I’ll tell him.”

“You don’t have lines and that’s the problem!”

Tim shook his head. “Adrien, I can tell you’re trying to help but, really, it’s fine.”

… fine. Time for their last real argument.

“Would you prefer we ‘stalk’ some random civilian?” Asked Tim. “Or you? Don’t you think it’s best we’re together rather than with some person who wouldn’t be able to deal with ‘stalkers’?”

“Sure, but it would be better if you worked on yourselves before getting into relationships,” said Tikki with a sigh.

Marinette groaned. “Gods, this is never going to work. It’s a love language, Adrien, why can’t you just understand that?”

“Love?!” Tim and Adrien said in unison, though the expressions on their faces couldn’t be more different.

“You love me?” Asked Tim.

Marinette’s face flared red. “I -- uh -- um --... yeah…?”

Holy shit, he's won at life.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly.

“It’s only been a few months, what the heck?” Adrien whisper-yelled. They ignored him.

Marinette pulled him down by the front of his shirt for a short kiss. Then, she split into a grin. “I said it first.”

“Not really, I did,” said Tim, smiling fondly.

“No no no I did. I have two witnesses to testify. You said ‘too’, I win.”

“Hm. Nope.”

“You can’t just --!” She huffed. “Stop smiling like that, it's hard to argue with you.”

He only smiled wider. She pouted until he pecked her lips.

Adrien dropped into one of the business chairs and hung his head.

“... I think I made it worse, somehow.”

Tikki patted his hair again.

~

Adrien ended up accepting them, albeit a little reluctantly. Marinette and Tim were right, after all: it was better that they ‘stalked’ each other rather than some random person who could/would take it worse.

Now, apparently, it was time for the shovel talk.

“Her parents are huge softies so this falls to me. You’d better not hurt her. She may be an idiot and a stalker --”

“Hey!”

“-- but she is still my sister.”

Tim gave a tiny smile. “Yeah, I get it. You’ll kill me if I hurt her and, since you have the power of destruction, there won’t be any way to bring me back.”

“Oh, not quite. I’m going to ‘randomly misplace my ring’ and whatever happens while my ring is ‘missing’ is up to whoever happens to find it. You’d better hope that whatever you did was small enough that Mari would be merciful.”

Tim swallowed thickly. “Ah. I see.”

Adrien smiled a smile worthy of the model that he was and clapped Tim on the back. “Welcome to the family!”

“Yeah… yay…”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you done threatening my boyfriend?”

“No. If she --.” Adrien cut himself off with a laugh at the glare she sent him. “Kidding, kidding. Do you want some of Pere’s food.”

“Obviously. Tim, do you want some?”

Tim hesitated. Marinette tried not to laugh at how carefully he considered the question, as if he thought it was some kind of test and not two people trying to make up for taking up his lunch period.

“... sure?”

“Cool. Macaroons?”

Marinette scowled. “If you get us passionfruit macaroons I swear to the kwamis --.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll implement a systematic takedown of both me and everything I love, I get it. I’ll grab the tea ones you like.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “You have contingencies for your friends? What’s mine?”

“... you do realize you have no powers, right?”

“Can’t believe even my own girlfriend underestimates me --.”

“I could drop an elephant on you and call it a day if I really felt like it.”

Tim paled. “I regret asking.”

~

Tim was sick the next day. That was kind of on him for forgetting that America has weirdly intense food safety standards, which meant food from other countries would likely mess him up. Also, he had no spleen. Wild that he had forgotten that but, nonetheless, there he was.

He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. How was it possible to feel cold and hot at the same time?

He heard the quiet creak of the floorboards and carefully opened one eye.

Marinette stood at the end of the bed, frown on her face, glass of water and a bowl of soup in each of her hands.

He reached a shaky hand for her and she handed him the water. He grumbled a little but his mouth was pretty dry, so he took it.

Once she was satisfied with his water-drinking, she took a seat beside him with the soup. When he made no move to eat it she rolled her eyes and set it aside temporarily in favor of pulling him on top of her. He smiled and rested his head on her stomach.

“You’re cute when you’re sick, maybe Adrien should bring over Pere’s food more often.”

He frowned. “But... work.”

“Don’t give me more reasons to do it,” she teased lightly.

When he pouted she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. He stopped her with a hand.

“I’m sick.”

“And I’m a meta with an enhanced immune system that wants to kiss her dumbass boyfriend.”

He huffed a little but he didn’t try to stop her when she tried to kiss him a second time. He smiled and buried his face in her stomach, looping his arms around her like she was a pillow.

“How’d you know I was sick?” He asked after a few moments.

She snickered. “Well, I woke up and you were really warm instead of cold.”

“I’m cold?” Tim asked and, despite knowing that it was just a fact, he felt extremely insulted. Damian’s insults had nothing on the fact that his skin was, apparently, cold.

She smiled a little and pet his hair despite the fact that it was probably pretty gross at the moment. “It’s fine. I’m usually pretty warm so it balances out.”

“Awwwww, we reach thermodynamic equilibrium together,” he joked quietly. He let himself sink into her, closing his eyes.

She gave a tiny laugh. “Wow. Romance.”

He smiled. “It is.”

“Hm.” She pet his hair for a few moments longer before pulling them away. “Right, c’mon, get up. I made Alfred teach me to make your favorite kind of soup.”

He blinked an eye open. “Alfred? He knows?”

“Alfred knows everything, I think,” Marinette half-joked. She handed him the bowl and he sat up to eat some. “But I’m pretty sure everyone else at least suspects it, too. I followed all of you bats on Twitter, after all, and I only know a few of you out of costume.”

He nodded his understanding. “So all the secrets are out.”

“Yep. Now I don’t have to worry about accidentally calling people the wrong names when we’re all just hanging out. Still don’t know how you keep it all straight.”

“Nicknames, mostly. Less likely to slip up. Also Dick’s name works for both.”

Her lips twitched. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s why he uses the name Dick.”

“He never answered, y’know, when I said he had a degradation kink. You might be onto something,” he joked.

She grinned now. “I’m always right.”

“Hm. Sure.”

“Glad you agree. Now eat your soup.”

His grin dropped into a pout. “But my stomach hurts.”

“You’re sick, you need your energy to heal. Eat.”

He groaned but reluctantly took the soup when she pushed it into his hands.

~

She glanced over at the kid that they had taken in. They liked to stick around while Marinette made the food and, if possible, make it herself. She was pretty sure she was checking to make sure they didn’t drug her but Marinette didn’t mind. If it made the kid feel safer then she didn’t see why she wouldn’t allow it.

Now, the kid was mumbling curses in Russian.

She tipped her head to the side. She could chide her about her language but, considering the fact that it was in a language that she couldn’t conceivably understand, she let it go in favor of asking: “What’s wrong?”

“… I can still smell jalapeño on my fingers but my eye itches.”

“Oh.” Marinette handed her a towel. “Alright, Rordan, rub your eye with the side your hand hasn’t touched.”

Rordan wasn’t their actual name, obviously. It was actually Robin (it wasn’t an uncommon name in Gotham or anything, but she and Tim had both had to fight back their amused grins when they had… magically figured it out through completely legal means).

“Yeah, obviously, I’m not stupid.”

She grinned. “I can never be too sure anymore. I’ve cooked with rich kids before and you would be stunned at how little self-preservation instincts they have.”

The kid rolled her eyes. “Can’t be that stupid.”

Tim chose that moment to get off work. He stepped through the door, blinked at the second person in his house, then split into a grin.

“Hey, R...Ronda?” He greeted.

Robin smiled. “Still no.”

“Darn, maybe next time,” he said as if he wasn’t getting it wrong on purpose. He set his scarf on the coat rack and then walked over. “What’s for dinner?”

“For you? A microwaved meal that I’m going to try and pass off as my own cooking.”

Tim huffed. “Bean, come on, it was one time --.”

“And that ‘one time’ is enough to never let you in the kitchen again. C’mon, darling, three steps back.”

Tim groaned but stepped back until he was sitting on the kitchen island.

Robin turned off the burner. “Fajitas are done.”

He pouted playfully. “Can’t believe the kid is allowed to cook and I’m not. I’m an adult!”

“A hazard, that’s what you are,” Marinette teased, smiling. She let Robin set half of the food in her tupperware. “Want to eat with us this time?”

“No thanks.”

Tim nodded. “Alright. See you later?”

Robin glanced back at them from the windowsill. She gave a two finger salute, grinning. “Sure. Bye.”

They watched tiny fingers shut the window behind her before slipping out of view.

She reminded Marinette of an outdoor cat. Kinda just does what she wants and then drops by for food every once in a while; might want affection but probably not, do not approach unless approached; gets in a lot of dumb fights and then comes back with a messed up nose but acts like nothing happened and you’re insane for bringing it up…

Yeah. So, they now have another cat. At least they were both cat people?

Tim grinned as she handed him a plate. “Thanks, Bean. Any progress?”

“Nope,” Marinette said, taking a seat beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. “But she’ll see that we’re safe eventually. I can wait for that.”

He hummed his understanding. “Can’t wait until we make enough progress to be able to eat with her.”

She grinned. “Your bar is too high, darling. It’d be nice if she gave us her actual name.”

“Yeah… I’m still holding out for it, though. She has, what, six years before she is able to legally get a job and won’t need us? We should be able to have food with her once in six years, don’t you think?”

Marinette smiled. “Kwami, I sure hope so.”

~

Tim rested his head on the windowsill, a tiny frown on his face.

They were on a stakeout. According to Sources there was supposed to be a handoff within the next week.

Marinette sat down beside him and pushed himself up some to send her an awkward grin.

She offered him some Oreos from the packet she held.

There was a long silence as they sat there, listening to the warehouse through their comms. The most interesting thing so far had been the fly buzzing past one of their bugs.

“This feels like cheating,” she said with a sigh.

“I know, right?”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Also you guys’ bugs are better quality than mine and I hate that.”

He snickered. “I can… ‘lose’ some bugs for you if you want.”

“You’d end up ‘losing’ too many.”

He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Not if we put it in my watch.”

“Doesn’t it get stolen every other week?”

“Sure, but B replaces it all the time. Still more sustainable than bugging every item I wear.”

She thought about it for a minute before smiling at him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

~

Marinette sat in a coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee as she tried to explain to Kagami Tsurugi that, no, a full ball gown wasn’t possible in three days and that she should have given more warning. The power in their apartment building had gone out while she was talking to a client and her phone had low power so… nearest coffee shop. There was free wifi, places to plug in her phone, and, of course, coffee.

A glance at the time showed that Tim would be off work in about half an hour. Hm. She went alone. She figured she’d see him there, anyways.

She blinked as a hand tapped her on the shoulder, expecting to see Tim, only to find the friendly barista that had given her her coffee. She whispered to Kagami that she needed to hold and lowered the phone a little.

“Here, ma’am, I’m sorry I forgot this earlier. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Marinette stared at the new drink that had been shoved in her hand. There was some writing on the label.

Dont look now but theres a man watching you.

And an arrow pointing to her right.

Marinette smiled up at the woman. “It’s alright. Thank you.”

The woman didn’t seem all that convinced, so Marinette spun around in her seat. “Darling, you’re being a creep, get over here.”

“I’m not a creep! You were on the phone!” He complained, but he walked over and took a seat across from her.

“Excuses, excuses.”

The poor barista looked so confused.

She sent her a smile. “Thanks for looking out for me.” She handed over a twenty. “For the drink. Keep the change.”

The woman left and Tim pulled out his computer to do some extra work while Marinette finished up her phone call. Then, she smiled at him.

“A random lady found you. You’re off your game.”

He pouted. “I was being obvious on purpose. Wanted to see if you could find me.”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute when you don’t know people are watching you.”

He did little more than raise an eyebrow at her disbelievingly. She grinned and leaned across the table to kiss him on the nose.

After a few second’s thought she pulled out her phone and changed Tim’s name to Spy-derman.

He snickered at the tiny notification, rolling his eyes. “Great.” Then he squinted at the name. “I never asked: why Spiderman?”

She grinned. “Well, the first time we met we met on the roof of a super tall building… but the door was super creaky and loud so all I could imagine was you swinging up there like Spiderman… wait, actually, did you?”

He rolled his eyes again. “You were just too concentrated on your work to hear me.”

“... oh. Well. that’s less fun. I’m choosing to ignore that.” She grinned. “Still can’t believe you called me Frenchie of all things. Did you use all two of your brain cells for that one?”

He gasped as if offended. “It was a reference to that character from The Boys.”

“Of course it was. Fucking nerd.”

He pecked her on the lips. “You love me, though.”

“Hm. Yeah. I do.”

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH29

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 29: Star Death Reality Show (XII) {cw: brief discussion of menstruation}

This conversation between guys didn't last long. After all, Qi Leren and Du Yue weren’t too familiar with each other, and they wouldn't be as casual as with Dr. Lu. It was almost two o'clock in the middle of the night. It was time for Qi Leren to watch the speaker.

The temperature difference between night and day was not much in the polar region, and the sunshine of the polar day fell on the tundra, quiet and serene. If it weren't for the danger stirring, that was spying on these poor lambs, Qi Leren probably wouldn't be as uneasy as he was now.

When he came to the outside of the church, Qi Leren saw Janet’s bright clothes at a glance. She was breathing on her hands. After a while, she pulled thick gloves on her hands: "This damn weather is really enough to freeze penguins."

—It's cold enough to freeze penguins. Someone had once described a polar environment to Qi Leren like this. When Janet’s words, he couldn’t help but think of that. Qi Leren showed a smile: "There are no penguins here, and we have temperature-control suits. We won’t freeze to death."

"Hey man, this is just an exaggerated metaphor. Can you have a sense of humor?" Janet rolled her eyes at him.

Dr. Lu and Alex came out of the church. Both of them were a little sleepy. They went back to rest after the handover with Janet. Janet walked into the church, sat down on the couch, and chatted with Qi Leren boredly: "You and Lara have a good relationship?"

"Not bad," Qi Leren said perfunctorily.

"Uh-huh, I guess you’re being condescending now," Janet said with a smile.

"You’re not a worm in my stomach." Qi Leren refused to admit it.

"Come on, I still have self-awareness. I never wanted to be likable." Janet shrugged her shoulders and said casually, "Let’s change the subject. What do you think about the disappearances these past few days?"

"...It's hard to say, but I don't think this is a ‘script’. The situation has been somewhat out of control." Qi Leren frowned. "I feel that it’s dangerous. A great danger..."

"Interesting. What kind of danger is it?" Janet asked curiously.

Qi Leren glanced at her. He wasn’t sure what this woman was thinking: "In many ways. Although intelligent life on this planet is extinct, there are still large animals alive, the vegetation is well preserved, the air quality and temperature conditions are suitable for survival, and it may be used as a colony planet or sightseeing planet in the future."

Janet was suddenly taken with him and followed along his topic: "I don't want to come to this hellhole again. Unless some discerning producer invites me to be the heroine and let Lara play the villain, then I may think about it, haha."

"You hate her that much?" Qi Leren was surprised. He thought Lara was easy to get along with.

"It’s the war between women, men wouldn’t understand." Janet spread her hands. "Anyway, I just hate the way she carries herself all the time. She acts like she’s the smartest, most powerful, most understanding in the world. It’s hypocritical, but you men eat this up."

Qi Leren declined to comment.

When Janet saw that he didn't speak, she curled her lips in boredom and found a place to sit down.

It was getting late into the night, Janet complained about the importance of beauty sleep, and absently dozed off. Qi Leren had had enough sleep during the day, so now he was very energetic and wandered around the church. This church should be quite old. If it wasn’t in the polar region, it would have been overwhelmed by lush vegetation and become a green ruin.

Looking out from the church window, Qi Leren could just see He Yi's house in the southwest. He suddenly remembered that He Yi had talked about something. On the first night, he saw...

What did he see? Did someone enter the church? If so, who did he see?

Unless He Yi reappeared, it was impossible for him to know.

This night was calm, Janet slept for a while and woke up after a while. At 7 o'clock, she finally got up. She tidied up her hair and complained: "I have never lived so rough in my life, and I have never desired to before!"

Qi Leren was about to speak when he saw Lara coming with Xue Jiahui from the window, so he asked, "How do you feel?"

Xue Jiahui looked at him in confusion and shook her head: "I still can't remember..."

"It's good that we’re returning to our parent star when the program is over. It should be only temporary," Lara consoled.

When the contestants came one after another, Lara pulled the Qi Leren aside when no one was paying attention and whispered, "When you searched for materials a few days ago, did you find anything like cotton and cloth?"

"Yes, I did. What do you want this for?" Qi Leren wondered.

"I don't want it, it’s Xue Jiahui. I saw that she discarded a cloth in the bathroom with blood on it. I think she probably encountered the same problem as Annie," Lara said.

Qi Leren: "..."

"Even I don't think it’s very good. You may not know this, but this physiological condition can be contagious," Lara said embarrassedly.

Qi Leren felt that, as a man, he didn't really want to know this kind of thing. He was a little concerned that Lara didn't tell others, but instead had taken him aside to borrow necessities. Did he look like a "best friend"?

Probably seeing Qi Leren’s depressed expression, Lara added: "I asked Francis to look after her for a while yesterday and went everywhere to borrow something, but unfortunately none of them had anything."

"Then how did you deal with it?" Qi Leren asked.

Lara gave a complicated look and said, "Xue Jiahui cut up her pillow... The pillowcase was used as a liner."

As the two people whispered, the contestants had already arrived one after another. This time, the atmosphere was more dignified than the previous two times. It even faintly appeared somewhat strange, because this time, what would be announced by the speaker was not the person who had won the Best of the Day, but the person who had knocked out Xue Jiahui and left her in the church. And this man was among them.

Time passed, and at eight o'clock the speaker started. The answer they eagerly wanted to know was given in a mechanical voice: "Now broadcasting the voting results. The winner of the Best of the Day is: Mark."

"Mark?"

"How can it be him?"

"Isn't he missing?"

"It turned out to be him?"

They were all whispering in amazement, but Qi Leren was not too surprised. It had seemed like Mark had gone missing at the beginning, but he wasn’t really missing, he was hiding somewhere... He quietly glanced out of the corner of his eye at Annie who was standing in the shadows, and she was expressionless.

……

……

……

The discussion was still inconclusive, so they had to split up again. Qi Leren was in a faint hurry. Today was the fourth day. If there was no breakthrough, even if he risked being seen through by the audience, he would identify the dangerous creature "amphioctopus", or risk being parasitized or injured. He would forcibly enter Annie's house.

Although Annie's own fighting capacity shouldn’t be strong, Qi Leren strongly suspected that she was already a puppet of the octopus, and he doesn't know anything about the octopus’ fighting capabilities. He didn't have the confidence that he could kill an octopus without using a skill card. Fortunately, after listening to the broadcast results, Annie returned to her house and then left the house again with the axe to go look for materials.

After waiting for the opportunity for such a long time, Qi Leren immediately climbed into Annie's house through the window, focusing on searching for the attic. This time, they had a clear goal and had good luck. In less than ten minutes, Dr. Lu found a dark panel on the second floor ceiling, from which an iron ladder could be pulled down after it was lifted.

Qi Leren looked at the dark attic above his head and was excited. His guess was right. Annie's house did have an attic! Mark and He Yi didn’t disappear, but hid in the attic!

After entering the attic, it was dark inside. Under the illumination of the flashlight, the desks, chairs, and bookshelves here all looked grim. Qi Leren noticed that the attic was also like a laboratory, just like the basement in Jing Siyu’s house.

Dr. Lu also came up, looked around to search, and soon felt that there was something wrong with the floor in the attic. Du Yue came up to help and lifted the floor. It turned out to be a straight, dark passage below, leading underground!

"So the structure is like this," Dr. Lu said, looking at this passage "It's not that there’s a trapdoor on the first floor that’s used to enter the basement, but there’s a passage through the attic, which isn’t connected with the first floor or the second floor, but goes straight to the basement. Um... For example, it’s like an enlarged version of a sewage pipe embedded in the wall."

"Why would they have such a design?" Du Yue asked curiously.

"God knows, I don’t have a clue. Oh, it’s also possible that the owner was a hikikomori and hated to see the sun. His scope of activities was the attic and the basement, so when building the house, he simply made such a passageway," Dr. Lu said.

Although he didn’t hear any movement, Qi Leren was a little worried that someone could be in the basement, so when he grabbed the metal cross section and climbed down the pipe’s ladder rung by rung, his heart beat fast and he was extremely nervous. But after reaching the bottom, he found everything was normal and the basement was empty.

"Wow, what is this? Was there an explosion?" Dr. Lu also climbed down and was surprised to see that there was a pile of messy rubble deep in the basement and a big hole punched out of the wall.

"Do you remember that when we were in Jing Siyu’s basement, there was the sound of an explosion outside? At that time, I thought it was the church or something had collapsed, but now it seems that... It happened here," Qi Leren said thoughtfully.

Du Yue also came over. He was more active. He simply rolled up his sleeves and moved the rocks. However, several huge rocks blocked the hole and couldn’t be removed without tools: "No, I can't move them. Can I explode it again?"

Qi Leren looked at the rocks on the ground that had obviously been manipulated but still blocked their way. He could imagine what Annie and Mark had been busy with these past few days… Hey, but where had Mark gone? They didn't see Mark go in or out of Annie's house all day yesterday. Maybe he was here the whole time, or maybe he was outside the whole time.

There came a squeak sound, the hatch that connected the attic to the basement was lifted. Qi Leren immediately turned off his flashlight, as did Dr. Lu.

Deng, deng, deng, the sound of shoes stepping on the metal rungs came, and Qi Leren felt like his hair was about to fall out. He looked in horror at the metal pipe with its iron ladder. Someone was coming down!

"Did we close the attic door when we entered the pipe?" Qi Leren lowered his voice and asked.

"It was closed, I was the last one, I closed it," Du Yue replied nervously.

"Okay, don't make any noise, stick to the wall, I’ll handle it." Qi Leren said after a pause, guessing that the other party didn't know they were in the basement.

After turning off the flashlights, only pure darkness remained in the basement, almost opaque. Qi Leren closed his eyes, stroked the palm of his right hand with his left hand, and silently counted the sound of the steps on the rungs as he readied himself.

He felt as if he had returned to the sea. The sea water was cold, and the pressure from all directions became stronger and stronger with his dive. He forced himself to slow down his heart, because at this time, panic would only make his oxygen consumption faster and make him closer to death.

Just as Qi Leren constantly adjusted his own state and brought himself closer to his peak level, that person had already reached the bottom. When they were about to step off it, the person fumbled in their trouser pocket and took out a flashlight...

The flashlight’s switch gave a click, and in a moment the light lit up the people hidden in the darkness. It was at this instant that Qi Leren shot out like lightning and kicked their calf! Kicked their face down to the ground!

"Ah!" A woman’s voice let out a painful cry and the flashlight fell to the ground. She wanted to look up and see who it was, but Qi Leren swung his hand down like a knife on the back of her neck! The strength was so great that she passed out instantly!

Looking at Annie, who had collapsed to the ground and passed out, Qi Leren breathed a long sigh of relief. He felt that he had returned to the surface from the bottom of the sea and felt renewed life thrum through him.

Thank you Chen Baiqi, thank you diving training, and thank you three-headed hellhound.

-----

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[lykegenia]

Trust, But Verify

Convinced that Unit Bravo isn't everything they seem to be, Detective Leah Kingston decides to return to the warehouse that she knows plays some part in the mystery of Wayhaven's first murder in years, this time with Tina as backup. But sometimes, what is said on patrol doesn't stay on patrol, which isn't great when the subject of conversation is a certain new arrival with a dazzling smile and warm brown eyes.

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--

The air in the office holds a studied silence, from the members of Unit Bravo who have arranged themselves around the room like they’re on a photoshoot, and from me ignoring them so I can finish updating the board with information about the case. There’s precious little to go on so far. Adam called it a waste of time, but working as a teammeans everybody needs to be on the same page, and now I can feel a certain amount of spite creeping into the thoroughness of my notes.

I can’t afford to let it. Getting bull-headed means things get missed.

“What information can you give me about the other victims?” I ask.

“Nothing that will help us here.”

Nate passes a guilty glance between me and his glowering leader, but all it does is get me even angrier. Folding my arms, I turn to Adam, temper finally frayed enough to let my professional veneer slip.

“Did my mother send you to sabotage my case?” I demand. I shouldn’t, but today has not been a good day.

Adam glares. Somehow, the silence in the room deepens.

“I’m only asking because so far you seem to be trying your hardest to seem incompetent and uncaring about the fact that a woman has been murdered. If you can’t show even basic respect for that then you can get the hell out of my office and not come back.”

“Detective…”

“Are you here to help or not?” I’ve dealt with Saturday night drunks and middle managers angry at getting parking tickets – hell, I’ve had to face the mayor’s bluster more than once – and though Adam looks like he knows more ways to break someone’s bones than any of those guys, I’m willing to bet he’s on a much shorter leash.

Finally, the muscles working in that square jaw unclench just enough for him to loose a strained breath through his teeth. “We’re at your disposal.”

“Glad to hear it.” My shoulders relax a little. “The better we work together, the faster we’ll solve this, and unfortunately all the legwork has to come first.”

Nate steps forward, visibly relieved that we haven’t come to blows. “What do you want us to do?”

“We need to trace the victim’s last steps,” I say. Coming up with a plan gives me something to focus on. “Bank records, phone records, CCTV. If we can find out where and when she met the killer, hopefully we can follow the thread back to them. Someone should ask Verda if there’s any way to track down the equipment the killer needed for the transfusion, too,” I add.

“Anything else?” Mason drawls from his corner. He’s started on another cigarette.

“Nate very kindly said you’d all go and check out the Farris warehouse later. We think it might be the murder site.” I don’t miss the look Adam shoots across the room, but it’s not important. “Be careful when you do, when I was there yesterday I ran into some unsavoury characters.”

“Really?” Felix asks, grinning. “If we see them I’m sure we could take them.”

Nate rolls his eyes and Adam grinds his teeth again, and neither of them are doing anything to soothe the off vibes I’ve been getting all morning.

“Glad to hear it,” I reply, turning to grab my coat off the peg. “While you’re on that, there’s something else I want to chase up.”

“What something else?” Adam asks, his eyes narrowing as if he can hear the uneasy tick of my pulse.

I shrug, already half out the door. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“One of us should go with you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but Tina and I will be fine – Tina! Fieldtrip!”

She looks up from the papers on her desk and gestures to the steaming mug in her hand. “But I just –”

“Now. We can stop off at Haley’s later.”

There’s a pause as she glances behind me, assessing, no doubt lining up a bunch of questions to ask me as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Sure thing, Detective.” She pulls on coat and scarf and sidles closer. “Day one and the power’s already gone to your head, I see.”

I stifle a smile and turn back to Unit Bravo, who are all leaning around the door of my office in various attitudes of surprise. “I almost forgot, while I’m out I’d be grateful if you could add the information on the other victims to the board. It should help.”

“We’ll see to it,” Nate promises when his colleague only flexes his biceps in response.

“I appreciate it.”

I’m almost to the door when I catch Felix sigh and mutter I don’t think she likes us very much, but I straighten my shoulders and step into the already darkening winter day, not allowing the prickle of guilt to take hold. They’re not here for me to like them, they’re here for a job – and I need to figure out what that job really is.

--

Tina shoots me a dubious look as I pull up outside the Farris warehouse and cut the engine. There’s still some light left, though the thick growth of trees crowds most of it out, and aside from a few harsh alarm calls from birds flitting between the trunks, the place is lifeless. Silent. The moon watches us from just above the top branches, hanging in the sky like a spider in the corner of its web.

“You changed your mind about letting Unit Boyband have this one?” she asks.

I reach behind me for my flashlight and check the safety on my gun is locked before kicking open the door. “There’s something not adding up about them, and I want to know what it is. Nate practically contorted himself trying to think of reasons for me to stay away.”

“And so here we are.” She sighs and follows. “Just like the good old days. As your friend, I think you’re being a bit paranoid.”

“Shady government agencies bring that out in me.”

“Just as long as you’re not expecting to split up in there.”

I toss her a grin. “Not even for a Scooby Snack?” I chuckle at her flat look. “Don’t worry, after those guys put that dent in Nessie last night, I’m not taking chances.”

With a wary look around, she unholsters her own gun and takes position on my left. “That dent looks like it was made with a sledgehammer.”

“Yup.”

We fall silent as we cross the threshold, crumbs of rubble cracking under our boots. The wind blows in from behind us, rustling the ivy reclaiming the walls, distorting sound, but unless someone is keeping very still, there’s nobody else here.

“Sooooo… it’s ‘Nate’ is it?” Tina ventures as we climb the stairs to the first floor. The artistic endeavours of Wayhaven’s teenagers scroll the walls, the empty cans and bottles from last summer’s illicit parties still scattered in the far corners.

“That’s what he asked me to call him,” I reply carefully. “It’s what the rest of them call him too.”

“Uh-huh.” She peers down at something. “Cigarette butt.”

“Recent?” I catch a shadow to my left, but when I chase it with my flashlight, it turns out just to be pigeons again, scattering for some reason of their own.

“There’s still ash on it, so I’d say so.”

“Bag it.”

While she kneels and starts the usual procedure for getting evidence into one of the bags we both carry with us, I pace the rest of the floor, peering around rusted heavy machinery and into the dustier corners in case of footprints. With so many people passing through, though, it’s unlikely we’ll find enough to connect anything to the murder – at least not anything that would stick in court.

“You have seen him eyeing you up though, right?”

“What?” I glance over, startled by the suddenness of Tina’s voice. “Who?”

Her tut would have made any disapproving grandma proud. “Nate.”

“Tina, I met him this morning.” One last glance around. “This floor’s clear.”

“So?”

“So when has he even had an opportunity to ‘eye me up’?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she sing-songs, “you were too busy doing your best to make the grumpy one quake in his combat boots, but I see everything. His mouth was hanging open and everything. And that was after your cosy little trip down to the morgue. I’m telling you, babe, you have a shot.”

We go one at a time down the stairs, which means she can’t see me roll my eyes, but as we turn to take our first proper look at the ground floor, the idea wiggles in to distract my better judgement. Nate has certainly made a better first impression than most of his team, but that’s not exactly hard, and his face looks like one that’s used to smiling, to smoothing ruffled feathers. If I maybe noticed the warmth of his hand when I shook it earlier, or caught the faint scent of whatever aftershave he uses when we were walking down to see Verda, then it’s still not something to lose my head over. It’s not something that matters.

“As your friend, I’m duty-bound to say that I think you’re delusional,” I say, deliberately light.

“Over here.”

Tina’s flashlight rounds on the transient’s camp I found yesterday, a loose pile of tattered blankets and a few rusted oil drums converted into fire barrels, only now with more light, there seems to be little evidence of recent occupation. No trash, no scuff marks beyond what could be explained by the passage of my own feet and the strangers who ran into me, and no odour of an unwashed body.

And yet…

Still crouched, I glance at the walls, try to imagine them blurred as I hold up my phone screen with the photos copied from Janet Greenland’s. She had known she was going to die, with enough advance warning to try and leave some kind of message, and then hidden them where her killer would be unlikely to look.

Tina breaks the concentrated silence. “What’s so delusional about someone finding you attractive?” It helps, the distraction from the grisly reason we’re here.

“Nothing in particular,” I reply. “People have wanted to sleep with me before. It’s just not something that would work.”

“Why not?”

I stand and walk slowly, still with my phone up in front of me. “One, this is a temporary assignment. Once we catch the killer, Unit Bravo will be whisked away to somewhere far more exotic than Wayhaven with far more interesting people.” I stop. “Two, he’s technically a colleague, which is never something that ends well. And three…”

The last of Janet Greenland’s photos line up with the view ahead of me, minus the difference in our height.

“Three?” Tina presses.

“I’m not interested.” It’s a ready answer, but she scoffs all the same.

“Oh come on, you mean you don’t think he’s sexy as hell?”

From somewhere behind us, there’s a loud crash as a piece of masonry collapses. We wheel, ready for something to come at us, but after a long moment, nothing else moves. Probably a rat, or a piece of the ceiling that was ready to go anyway. Even so, Tina keeps her back to mine as I return to my snooping.

“That’s not a no,” she wheedles after a few more minutes of silence.

“He’s –” The right description eludes me for a moment. “He’s good-looking. He seems nice, for what it’s worth. But that doesn’t mean he’d stay, and it doesn’t mean he’d be interested in anything… beyond casual. I have more worthwhile uses for my time than trying to guess a stranger’s motives for noticing me.” The bitterness isn’t something I meant to slip out, but thankfully there’s no comment on it. Tina knows enough about the fiasco with Bobby to leave that particular sleeping Rottweiler lie.

Besides, I’ve found where Janet stumbled into the warehouse – or tried to get out. By one of the broken windows some of the stones have tumbled and turned the mossy sides underneath, and a few threads of material are snagged on the jagged edge of the glass that are the same colour as the jacket she was wearing. There’s just enough light left to photograph it, but without any evidence of the killer or any kind of struggle, there isn’t much else to be done. Wayhaven doesn’t have the resources to dust an entire warehouse for prints.

“I remember being told at the academy that we should try to collect all the evidence we can,” Tina says, when I make no move to reach for a bag.

“That’s what I’m doing,” I reply. “Sometimes it doesn’t all look the same, that’s all.”

She eyes me with a frown, though the corner of her mouth is fighting a smile. “What did I tell you? Paranoid.”

--

Sitting in the Facility cafeteria barely a week later, a plate of unappetising mince and mashed potato in front of me, it’s hard to believe how much a life can change. Hunting for petty clues, looking through bank records and phone calls as if any of it would have turned up anything useful – not even the vindication of knowing I was right about my mother’s team does much to lessen the lurch the world has taken since learning that the man I was hunting is not only a vampire, but that he’s hunting me, too. The thought puts me off eating. Or maybe it’s the tests, or just that the food itself isn’t very good.

I’m in the middle of drawing a passable mixed media landscape with my fork when a shadow falls across my plate. Nate smiles at me, genuine if somewhat nervous, one hand holding a mug of tea and the other on the back of the chair opposite mine.

“May I sit?” he asks.

I’ve barely seen him since the first night I was here, between all the debriefings and the sessions with the scientists, and even those brief glimpses have been accidental, moments of stumbling into each other in the corridors of Unit Bravo’s section of the Facility. To have him seek me out, in a place that reeks of leftovers, stirs an unfamiliar flutter behind my ribs that turns into a smile to answer his.

“Please do.” I gesture, and his smile grows wider, and I cast about for something that will avoid me floundering in awkward silence. “I didn’t think I’d see you here – not because you don’t need to eat!” I add hastily. “The smell of stale coffee is almost too much for me with just human senses.”

He doesn’t seem too offended, and just shrugs. “I like the ambience. People here are just being people, no matter what species.” As he speaks his eyes cast over the nearly empty room, and the pockets of agents and supernaturals at other tables buried in conversation. A person could visit a thousand parallel universes and a cafeteria would look the same in every one.

“The more things change…” I mutter, following the line of his gaze.

A smile touches his lips. “You have no idea.”

I really don’t. Not compared with someone who’s lived so long and seen so much. In the pause that follows, I turn my attention back to my plate, and the interrupted tree I was trying to capture in the foreground with an overcooked slice of carrot.

“You’re quite the artist – I mean it!” he adds, holding up his hands at the sharp glance I throw his way.

“This is the part where you say you met some famous painter or other, isn’t it?” I grumble, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Van Gogh did sell me a painting once – not one of his own, I’m afraid.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say the statement was meant to impress me, and that the sip he takes of his tea is more to hide a smirk than because he’s thirsty. Still, his eyes grow serious as he taps the mug back on the table, and the measured way he looks me over makes me want to twist my fingers in my lap.

“What?”

“You seem to be handling the revelation of all this rather well,” he replies, muted, with a flicker of a softer smile. “We should have trusted you with it sooner.”

For a moment I don’t answer, both startled by the admission and caught up in an echo of the resentment that’s characterised so much of my time with Unit Bravo so far. It’s not a comfortable feeling, not now I know the reason behind the secrecy, but the morning after my second visit to the warehouse is still fresh in my mind, Adam’s flat ‘no’ when I asked if they’d found anything, and the way Nate glared at the floor, arms folded and shaking his head in tacit disagreement as the others waited for my reaction, as if they knew I wouldn’t believe them.

“I’ll admit, ‘new co-workers are secretly vampires hunting down a vampire serial killer who’s picked me as his next target’ wouldn’t have been my first guess for what was going on,” I try with a shrug. “I assume it’s not something everyone responds well to.”

“Most people who find out don’t have to deal with the serial killer part.”

Sometimes, in the face of such absurdity, you just have to laugh. Nate seems pleased that I haven’t run screaming, amusement warming the sympathetic way his gaze lingers.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you,” I say, after another moment of silence.

“For what?”

I shrug. “For wanting to tell me – trying to tell me, even though you had orders. Not everyone would do that.” My mother springs to mind as a prime example.

“It was clear you were going to find out anyway. You’re pretty incredible that way.” His gaze on mine is heavy, soft and intense but tinged with regret as well, and he looks away. “But after you went to the warehouse, it was also clear you didn’t trust us. It’s not a great combination for trying to keep someone safe.”

“How did you know I was at the warehouse?”

“I, uh…” He clears his throat, not meeting my eye. “I followed you. One of us had to, just in case Murphy came back.”

He seems… embarrassed more than anything, as if following me was somehow something more shameful than lying to my face, and it’s not what I expect. And then I remember my conversation with Tina while we hunted through the ruined building. Damn. My fork sets against the edge of my plate with a faint clink.

“You were in the warehouse – when I was in the warehouse,” I check, just in case there’s no real reason for the sudden flood of heat into my face.

“I was.”

“And you heard everything me and Tina were saying with your hypersenses, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly need –” He stops, smiles an apology. “Yes, I heard everything.”

I roll my lips together, chasing something to say. My fingertips drum on the table. “There’s no chance you could just… forget all of that, is there?”

And now the smile curls into something smoother, sleek like a cat. And guess who’s the canary.

“I would rather not.” He purrs it, and my insides squirm. “But since we’re on the subject of… things you said, I feel the same way. About matters of the heart. They’re too precious to be treated casually.”

I stare. There’s more in the words than I really want to acknowledge, certainly more than I can respond to in the middle of a public place full of creatures I thought were myths for most of my life. His brown eyes search my face, patient, until I can’t stand it anymore and drop my gaze to the table, and he covers by taking another sip of his tea.

“That’s an elegant way to put it,” I manage, after what feels like an eternity. He’ll still be leaving once we’ve caught Murphy, and now that we’ve got a solid set of leads on him, that won’t be long at all.

“I hoped you would think so.”

“It must be hard to have any kind of relationship with… all of this.” I wave my hand around the room. “The secrecy and the travelling, I mean.”

His head tilts, the smile returns. “You don’t think it’s the vampire thing that would put people off?”

“No.” I don’t miss the way his mouth twitches upwards at that. “Vampires have become fashionable in the last few years, so I hear. Even if you don’t sparkle.”

“I’d hope my wit does, at least.”

I can’t help it, I break into a laugh at that. It’s so easy to feel comfortable around him, to want to be closer and spend hours just talking. When I knew he was lying, it was an easier feeling to ignore.

“You could always find another vampire,” I point out. “That would solve it if you thought it was a problem.”

It confuses him. His brows furrow as if it was something he hadn’t considered, as if the conversation has taken a turn he didn’t expect, and I use the distraction to look at the clock, high on the wall where clocks always are in cafeterias.

“I need to go. It’s stab-Leah-with-needles o’clock.”

“So soon?” he asks.

It’s not entirely untrue, but I’ll have to walk slowly not to be early, because god forbid they think I’m eager for more tests. My heart skips a little, and he can probably tell, but this whole conversation has veered far too close to gates I locked a long time ago, and do not want open again. I shrug.

“The sooner I get through everything they can think up, the sooner I can go back to catching Murphy.”

“The sooner this whole case is finished.” He watches me, the unspoken half of the sentence left hanging.

“The sooner Wayhaven is safe again.”

In the end, that’s what matters. I can’t lose sight of it.

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong Chapter 40: A Malcolm

Chapter 39

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The meal that Jenny and Mary MacNab had prepared in celebration of Jamie’s return had been as grand as possible given the limitations of harvest and money. It was indeed delicious and enjoyable, and the table itself was full of life. The children chattered on and on to their long lost uncle, and Claire could tell Jamie was careful to not address a single one of them by name except wee Jamie. There were several points throughout the meal where he became overwhelmed, but all it took was a squeeze of his hand from Claire and a reassuring smile, and she was able to pull him back to Earth.

He gradually became more comfortable, listening jovially to the children’s babbling. Claire noticed that he particularly could not keep his eyes off of baby Ian, sitting in Jenny’s lap, content to gnaw on the bannock in his hands for the entire meal with the occasional spoonful of mashed potatoes shoved into his mouth. Claire made a note to have Jamie hold the baby and play with him; it would do him good to leave an impression on a child that hadn’t yet known life without him. It would perhaps fill at least a small part of the cavern in his heart that missing Brianna’s infancy had left in its wake.

At some point, Mary MacNab had come by to scoop Ian out of Jenny’s lap to take him to bed, and it wasn’t long after that that Jenny was sending the rest of them upstairs themselves. She looked pointedly at Jamie, a strange look that Claire could not place, but one look at Jamie and she gathered that Jenny was coming through loud and clear to her brother.

You’re not going anywhere.

The children did a mass exodus out of the dining room, a cacophony of yells and giggles, and Claire couldn’t help but smile to hear Maggie’s voice above the throng:

“Dinna be so rowdy. Mother said it’s time fer bed.”

Wee Mother Hen.

Claire swept her eyes around the room and then landed on Fergus, who was staring intently at Jamie. She looked to Jamie, who was staring intently back at him. It took Claire a moment to piece it together, but it wasn’t long before it hit her: Jamie was fully expecting Fergus to disappear with the children. He couldn’t yet fathom that the lad had grown up. Perhaps he didn’t want to speak of prison in front of him, and he hadn’t been prepared to have to do so.

“So,” Jenny, never one to beat around the bush, was the first to break the silence. “Care to share how it is ye’ve been alive all this time after we spent eight years hearing of Red Jamie’s death?”

Claire felt Jamie stiffen beside her, and she instinctively reached out to take his hand, squeezing comfortingly.

Claire could see from across the table that Ian put his hand on Jenny’s thigh and whispered a low warning: “Janet. Easy now.”

She huffed indignantly and turned away from him, but she did not shake his hand off of her. It would appear that Jenny’s initial joy of having him back had already been replaced by angry betrayal. Frankly, Claire didn’t blame her. She might have felt the same if she wasn’t so God damned relieved. Perhaps that would come later.

“Well?” Jenny said, looking pointedly at Jamie.

“I ken I’ve got a lot to explain,” Jamie began.

“Aye, ye do.”

“Janet.”

“It’s alright, Ian.” Jamie looked up at them finally, his eyes pained, but understanding. “Ye have every right to be angry. All of ye.” His head turned and he faced Claire, looking her right in the eyes. Claire swallowed thickly and blinked back tears.

“Suppose I should start from the beginning,” he said, shifting again so he was facing Ian and Jenny and able to turn his head to look at Fergus if he so chose. “I was injured in battle, too much to run. Rupert brought me to a hut where other injured men were hiding. But it was hopeless, ye ken. We were all just…waiting to be found. Waiting to be shot.”

Claire gave his hand another reassuring squeeze.

“Well, found we were, o’ course. One by one they took our names and brought us out to be shot. There was nothing I could do but pray that ye’d all be safe when I was gone.” A single tear trickled down Claire’s cheek.

“When it came time fer me to give my name, nothing short of a miracle occurred. Claire, d’ye remember the lad who attacked me near Corrieyairack, before Prestonpans, and we brought him in to be questioned, but he wouldna budge until ye started pretending to be our prisoner?”

Claire’s brow furrowed, but the corners of her mouth involuntarily twitched up at the memory. “Yes…I do.”

“He told me he owed me a debt of honor fer sparing his life. D’ye recall?”

“I…I suppose…”

“I remember as well, Milord,” Fergus chimed in.

Jamie nodded towards Fergus before continuing. “He spoke of a brother, a Lord Melton. Well, this was the verra same Lord Melton who came upon us in that hut. When I gave my name, he insisted on carrying out his brother’s debt of honor.”

“He spared your life,” Claire whispered reverently.

“Aye, he did. But the death of Red Jamie was far too tempting of a feat to brag to His Majesty.” Jamie smirked darkly. “And Lord Melton didna want his reputation sullied. So they spread the word that I’d been killed in battle, and they brought an Alexander Malcom to Ardsmuir Prison.”

“A Dhiah,” Ian breathed in disbelief. “All this time, the one that spared yer life was a bloody Redcoat?”

“Aye. A man of great honor.” He nodded solemnly. “His brother as well. He became Ardsmuir’s new governor about six years into my sentence. Hardly recognized him, but it was the very same lad. He’s the reason I’m here wi’ ye now.”

“He got you free?” Claire’s eyes were wide.

“Aye. He did. He appealed to the crown fer the freedom of Alexander Malcom, and he won it.”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Claire breathed.

“Why the Devil would he do such a thing?” Jenny fired. “There must be some catch. Does he ken who ye are?”

“Aye, he does ken the truth.” Jamie nodded. “But there’s no catch.”

“A bloody Redcoat who knows ye’re the most famous Jacobite traitor sets ye free and there’s no catch?” Jenny spat. “Ye must be mad, brother!”

“He’s a good man, Jenny, I ken it.”

“How? How d’ye ken it?”

“I just…I do! Alright?” Claire noticed he was trembling, red in the face. “Murtagh was ill, and he — ”

“Murtagh?” Claire gasped. “He’s alive…?”

“Oh, aye, didna mention that, I suppose.” He grinned sheepishly.

“Where is he?” Claire stammered. “Is he alright?”

“Sent off to the colonies wi’ the other prisoners when they closed the prison,” Jamie said. “That’s how I was able to be set free. No prison anymore, and John petitioned my freedom rather than indentured servitude wi’ the others.”

“Oh, ye’re on a first name basis wi’ him then?” Jenny said incredulously, her eyes wide.

“Janet,” Ian admonished again.

“No, I dinna like this one bit!” Jenny waved him off. “What in God’s name was so special about ye that ye were the exception out of every other prisoner? Why did he spare you? How do we ken we won’t be raided in the night and all of us killed now that ye’ve led them right to us?”

“That’s no’ why, Janet — ”

“Then why, Jamie? Help me understand!”

“He is — !” Jamie raised his voice frighteningly, but then he bit his tongue, letting his body relax for a moment. Claire squeezed his hand, waiting patiently, though she, too, was more than eager to find out this man’s motives.

“He’s…fond…of me,” Jamie said quietly, avoiding everyone’s eyes and staring into the grain of the table.

Claire immediately felt panic sear through her chest, her breath catching in her throat.

Someone has hurt him again. The bastard used his power to take advantage of him.

“Jamie…” Claire choked.

“No, Claire,” he said firmly, turning his head in her direction, but still not looking at her. His voice dropped to a whisper as he said: “He didna.”

Claire let out a trembling sigh of relief.

Jenny and Ian looked hopelessly confused. Neither of them knew the depth of what Randall had done to Jamie. No one did, save Claire, Murtagh, and the few men that had helped in his rescue. Claire looked over at Fergus, and he looked like he was in pain. He knew all too well what Jamie was referring to, what Claire was afraid of. 

Claire reached under the table to squeeze Fergus’s hand, now holding tightly onto both of her dear lads.

“He’s an honorable man,” Jamie said again, loudly enough now for everyone to hear. “We spoke a great deal and he…he kent I had a wife waiting fer me. Ye were all I could speak of Claire, every breath I took was fer you. And he could tell; he could see how deeply I loved ye. When he granted me my freedom, he shook my hand and he said to me: ‘Cherish that wife of yours, Fraser.’”

Another tear trickled down Claire’s cheek. Jamie looked deeply into her eyes, his pupils dilated, and she could hear him without him having to say it:

Cherish her I will.

“Alright.” Jenny exhaled and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s all fine and good, then. So where was any word from ye that ye lived?”

“I couldna put ye in danger like that,” Jamie said. “Don’t ye understand? If I had asked them to deliver letters to Lallybroch, they’d know straight away I wasna who I said I was. They’d ken that Claire was the very same wife to Red Jamie. ’Twas my face on the broadsheets, aye, no’ hers, but to send letters to where she lived would be as sure as putting her face on one.” Jamie shuddered. “I ken what they’re capable of, and so do you, Janet.” He stared at Jenny darkly, and she blanched, slumping over in her chair slightly, likely remembering what Randall had almost done to her all those years ago.

“I dinna wish to think of what they would do to Red Jamie’s wife if they found her here wi’ his family.” His voice was tight with emotion as he squeezed Claire’s hand. “And now that I know that my child dwelt here as well…I…I canna bear to think what they’d do to her.” He shuddered. “As much pain as it caused ye to hear no word, I dinna regret any of it. I’d do it again if it meant keeping ye safe. All of ye.”

“You were right to think that way, Jamie,” Claire said softly, reassuring him. “They already suspected. They came by many times asking where I was when I had time to hide, and trying to question me when I didn’t. Letters from you would have been my death sentence. You’re right.”

“It’s true,” Ian chimed in. “Trying to hide that she was English when they came by was quite the feat. All they needed was the slightest bit of confirmation, and I ken they’d be dragging her away. Her and perhaps wee Brianna as well.” Ian smiled gravely at Jamie. “Ye did the right thing, lad.”

Ian turned to look expectantly at Jenny, who had significantly deflated “Aye,” she said finally, not looking him in the eye. “Suppose ye did.”

“All that matters is that ye’re back, Jamie, and that none of us are in danger because of it,” Ian said, raising his glass to him. “Slaínte.”

“Slaínte,” everyone echoed.

A loud shriek suddenly echoed through the house, causing everyone to jump.

Claire smiled. “That wasn’t mine,” she said teasingly, knowing by now what her daughter sounded like.

“Oh, aye, sounds like Janet.” Jenny sighed. “Michael is probably tormenting her again. Excuse me.” She rose from the table and quickly strode out of the room.

Jamie also couldn’t help but smile. “Ye’ve had a great many blessings,” he said to Ian.

“Aye, we have.” He smiled. “But a great deal of hardship as well.”

His face fell a bit. “Aye, I’m sure.”

“She’s just hurt, Jamie,” Ian said gently. “She’ll come back around to ye soon enough. It was hard fer her, losing ye so suddenly like that, all of a sudden having to raise wee Jamie to fill in yer shoes as Laird someday. She took on the responsibility of keeping this land safe, keeping yer wife and child safe.” He looked pointedly at Claire. “She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders to honor yer memory. She’s just hurt that it’s all been a lie.”

Jamie nodded, his jaw hard, his eyes misting over. “Aye. I…dinna blame her.”

“She will come around, Jamie,” Claire said . “She always does. Which reminds me…”

“Ah,” Ian said, grinning a bit. “Suppose he doesna ken that we ken?”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “I dinna ken that they ken what?”

Claire almost laughed at the absurdity of the conversation. “I told Jenny about my being from the future. Shortly after Brianna’s birth.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Aye, then Jenny told me,” Ian said.

“And I demanded to be let in on the secret about a year later,” Fergus chimed in.

Jamie nodded thoughtfully. “Right. That makes sense. What about the bairns?”

“No, they’re too young to understand,” Claire said. “I suppose we’ll have to tell Brianna eventually, but when she’s older.”

“Aye…I suppose…” Jamie looked to Claire. “How did she take it? Jenny?”

Claire smirked. “Not too well, at first. Her first thought was witchcraft, of course, especially because of Brianna’s seizures and this century’s association of epilepsy to the Devil.” Jamie smirked as well, picturing all-too-clearly his sister on a tirade against his wife. “But eventually she let up and we came to an understanding.”

“I didna understand it at all; still don’t, truth be told,” Ian said. “But I believed Claire’s heart to be true, so it had to be the truth. Simple as that.”

“Aye, I told myself the same thing.” Jamie looked deeply into her eyes again, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently.

“I think I perhaps took it better than anyone,” Fergus said with a crooked grin. “I learned  to not ask questions when it came to Maman. I’m still not convinced that she isn’t La Dame Blanche.” He raised his eyebrows at her playfully.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Right.” She grinned back at him. “Anyway,” Claire continued, looking at Jamie again. “I only bring it up because she did come back around. Even when…after Caitlin.” Claire’s eyes flicked to Ian, not wanting to reveal anything he didn’t wish to speak of.

“Caitlin…?” Jamie looked back and forth between them.

“Aye. Our wee lass. Born and dead on the same day.”

Jamie looked like he’d been punched in the gut, and I squeezed his hand tighter.

“Christ, Ian. I’m…I’m sorry…”

“Dinna fash, Jamie,” Ian said, though his voice was twinged with sadness. “We’ve healed the best we could.”

“Aye…but ye…ye never truly heal from…from that.”

Claire looked at him, another tear trickling down her face.

I know, love. I thought of her, too.

She allowed a brief silence to pass between them and sent up a silent prayer for her lost Goddaughter and her cousin.

“Well…Jenny was angry with me then, too,” Claire finally continued gently. “Even more than when I first told her. She blamed me for losing Caitlin because I…because I had the power to be in a safer time and I didn’t use it to save her. She was…very cold. For over a month.”

Jamie wet his lips and nodded in understanding.

“But…she came back around. We talked things through, both apologized…and we’re all the more closer and stronger together because of it.” Claire released his hand so she could touch his shoulder. “It will be the same for you. Just give her time to process.”

Jamie nodded solemnly.

“Ian!”

The woman in question suddenly loudly called out, likely from upstairs.

“Get up here and give yer son a thrashing!”

A little shriek shortly followed, and Claire had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Suppose I should take care of whatever that is.” He stood up and made his way around the table. He clamped a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “It’s good to have ye back, a bhalaich.”

Jamie craned his neck and turned slightly, firmly grasping Ian’s hand atop his shoulder. “Thank ye…it’s…it’s good to see you too, Ian.”

Ian smiled warmly before releasing him and making his way out of the dining room.

And then there were three.

“Fergus?” Claire said softly after a brief silence. “How are you feeling over there?”

Fergus leaned back with a sigh, his eyes widening. “How you would expect, I suppose. I thought I might faint like a woman when I saw you in the parlor, Milord.”

“Aye, thought I might as well, seein’ my mirror image in Brianna, and seein’ you so grown,” Jamie said. Fergus chuckled, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jamie’s eyes flicked over to Claire, asking for guidance, permission.

“Just say what you’re feeling,” she whispered, quietly enough so that only he heard. “I can — ”

“No. Stay,” he said softly, but firmly.

Claire nodded gingerly before turning back to Fergus.

“I uh…I missed ye, lad,” Jamie began. “I thought of ye every day.”

“And I of you,” Fergus said.

“Ye see, I didna ken about Brianna, so I couldna picture her at all. But you, Fergus, I’d sit in that damned cell and I’d picture you and Claire, together. I pictured ye both taking comfort in one another, bringing each other joy. Since I didna ken about the bairn, I told myself that leaving her a son was the best thing I ever did. Ye gave me that comfort, Fergus. And I’m grateful fer it.”

Fergus’s face was impossible to read. He’d always been a very sensitive child, but as he'd grown, he’d gotten a handle on it, as was expected for young men. Claire hadn’t seen him truly cry since he’d thought she was dying in childbirth, and even then he was trying to be brave. He looked very much like he wanted to cry now, but Claire knew he’d never allow the floodgates to open, especially not in front of the man that she knew Fergus had come to see as a God.

“I uh, I knew full well that time had passed,” Jamie went on, fueled by Fergus’s lack of response. “But even still, I couldna reconcile that ye werena the same wee lad I sent off with the deed on that day. It breaks my heart that I couldna raise ye into a man myself as I wanted to.”

Fergus nodded slightly. “Maman raised me into the man you would want me to be, Milord. She was mother and father to me. For you.”

Claire thought she would burst into tears at any moment.

“Aye,” Jamie’s voice sounded tight. “I’m sure she did. Ye’re…ye’re a fine young man, mon fils. I’d be proud to still call ye my son. If ye’d have me.”

Fergus abruptly stood up, and for a moment, Claire was seized by the panic that he would dash out of the room. Instead, he stood there silently, and Claire could see several emotions warring with each other on his face. Jamie stood then, too, releasing her hand. She could see his arms trembling.

Without another word, Fergus closed the small space between them and threw his arms around Jamie, and Jamie exhaled heavily, crushing the lad to him. Claire covered her mouth to stifle a sob, silent tears trickling over the back of her hand.

“You have always been my Papa, Milord,” Fergus whispered into his shoulder.

Claire could not stop herself; she stood up and approached them, gingerly touching Fergus’s shoulder. They both welcomed her into their embrace, and Claire was so overwhelmed with love she thought she might faint. She was reminded of a moment that she’d never forgotten, a moment that she’d cherished as deeply as the moment she held Brianna for the first time:

The last time she’d held both of her boys together, right before Jamie had sent them away, when Fergus’s wee head still fit under her chin, when she and Jamie had cried into his hair, together.

A real family, for the first and last time.

But she knew now that it had not been the last time.

“Oh…my boys,” Claire murmured, craning her neck to kiss Fergus’s cheek, and then Jamie’s. “My darling boys…”

“We are together again, Maman,” Fergus kissed the top of her head. “All is well now.”

And despite her uncertainty, her inability to let go of those eight years just yet, Claire could not help but agree.

All is well now.

[babyspiderling]

Tiny Dancer p.2

"Just stare into space, picture my face in your hands. Live for each second without hesitation"

"Janet, you can't tell anyone about this." Michael tells her, focused on damage control. Janet fires back without hesitation. "The hell you mean I can't tell anyone? Marlon owes me ten bucks now." I roll my eyes, patting Michael on the back. "Mike,I'm sure your brothers are looking for you. I don't think we want anyone else listening in on this conversation anyways. I'll talk to Jan, ok?" He glances back and forth between his younger sister and I, a concerned look deep in his face. He sighs out an "Ok, fine." and heads back to his dressing room. I turn back to the youngest Jackson. "Listen Jan, I only want what's best for Mike. If it were up to him, and if the circumstances were different, you'd be the first to know on purpose. The world may be changing fast, but we've got a long way to go. The media would flip if word got out that The Michael Jackson was with not only his seamstress, but a white chick at that. Not to mention your father. God, he would kill us if he found out. He'd fire me and i'd never see Michael or any of you again." I deflate in front of her eyes, letting myself show vulnerability to the fifteen year old. "I really do love him Janet. I can't lose him, but I can't just let him risk losing his career over me. I'm the reason we're a secret. Michael is a glass half full person, always trusting and seeking out the positive, but I see what is going to happen if we enter the world of the limelight." When I look into her eyes, her head is cocked to the side, studying me. "Alright, I see where you're coming from. I know Joseph, and you're probably right. Just don't hurt Mike. He's my favorite after all." I nod, relieved that she understood where we are coming from. "I promise to tell you everything you want to know later ok? Maybe at the hotel or while I'm patching up something that the boys unsurprisingly ripped up." Janet giggles, and we make our way back to the rest of the group.

I lay down in the linen sheets of the hotel bed, needing to sleep to be able to get up in the morning to fix a couple of loose buttons and worn knees. I hold a pillow close to myself and let myself float away to dreamland.

The creaking of my door opening stirs me from my slumber. I prop myself up on my elbow, turning on the lamp. "Mike? What's going on?" He's in pajamas, and his hair is mussed. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and murmurs out a "Couldn't sleep." I huff and fall back onto the bed. "Fine, get in here. You said so yourself that you sleep better with someone than alone. We've both got an early morning and it's already... 2 AM." His bare feet shuffle across the hotel carpet and the bed slightly creaks as he climbs in next to me. Once he's gotten comfortable, I lay my head on his chest and wrap an arm around him, succumbing to the exhaustion filling my bones.

I wake up to my alarm, letting myself give in to Michaels grip and the temptation to hit the snooze button and spend an extra few minutes in the warmth and security his arms provide. I snuggle close to him and doze off. Once again the door opens up, but I shrug it off, thinking it to be Janet. Instead of her girlish squeal of embarrassment, I hear a masculine shout of surprise. The sharp cry from Randy shocks us both awake. The second youngest Jackson wears an expression of both surprise and smugness. "I knew it! I knew something was going on between you two! Mike, my man, congrats. I knew you'd get her eventually. Now tell me, when did this all start out?" As Michael and I rubbed the sleep from our eyes, Randy had made himself comfortable on the small couch nearby, his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Groaning, I pull myself out of the bed, tugging my shirt down so I don't flash Randy. I pat Michaels shoulder and groan out: "You're taking this one. I talked to Janet last night and I have to get ready. Jackie tore his shirt last night and I've got to make him a new one. Who tears their shirt in the middle of their chest like that?" I sit on my heels to grab my things and head to the bathroom to get dressed.

Finished with make-up, I tie my hair back in a high ponytail. Combing through my hair, Michael enters to get ready himself. "So, how'd it go?" He shrugs a little and reaches for the extra toothbrushes the hotel offers. "Randy promised to keep it a secret until we tell everybody else. He was a little surprised that we've been together since Destiny. He thought it was a recent development, not a three year old relationship." Securing my hair one last time, I turn and smile at my lover. "Well, at this rate, Randy only has to keep it a secret for another 5 days. Go ahead and schedule out a lunch or something for your mother. I want her to know that I love her son more than anything else, and I don't want to keep him a secret anymore. But you have to promise me that if this whole thing goes wrong, your career comes first. You have worked your entire life for this, you are living your dream life, don't throw away your dream for me." He chuckles a bit, and rests his forehead against mine. "If this whole thing goes wrong, I'll hire you again myself. You'll be my personal costumer/seamstress. And no one will be able to get rid of you." I giggle and give a peck to his mouth. "Alright toothpaste lips, finish up and get back to your room. I'm sure you can't go to sound check in your pajamas. And send Janet and Randy back to me. I need her input on somethings and I'm sure Randy has more questions." He finishes up and goes back to his room, the two youngest Jacksons coming in not too much later.

"Alright guys, I'm gonna work some because that is what I'm here to do, but I can answer your questions at the same time." I lay out the fabric on the round table in the room as the two sat down on the couch. They both started talking at the same time, but stopped soon enough. Janet spoke first. "When did this start? How did this start?" I smile at the fabric and respond. "Even when I was growing up, I thought that Michael was the most handsome boy on the planet. But when I started working with you guys 4 years ago I decided to remain professional. This was my dream career and I would not jeopardize it over a celebrity crush. Michael and I became friends not long after, and I actually pushed him away in the beginning. I was so scared that either of us would get attached and it would risk our professional lives. During the music video for Shake Your Body, I was joking around with Marlon and Michael got all huffy. He ranted a little bit and ended up kissing me. It didn't take long until we started actually dating." I flip the fabrics so that the shirt is inside out and pin it together. I move to my machine, and Randy asks: "Why keep it a secret? It's not like anyone here doesn't like you?" I adjust the needle to where I need it and lower the presser foot. "Well, we as a society may have come a long way, but not everyone is going to agree with the fact that Michael Jackson, global superstar, chose to date his seamstress, and then the fact that it's a biracial relationship will send a whole other group into a frenzy. He worked so hard to be where he is, to live his dream, and I felt that if we released our relationship to the public, it could cause a lot of backlash his way. Plus I'm pretty sure that if Joseph found out about us, he'd see me as a distraction, turning his son against him. He'd fire me in an instant. I'd probably never be able to see any of you again. Now that it's suddenly impossible to keep us a secret anymore, we're going to tell Ms. Kathrine soon. Michael is going to schedule it today, and we'll tell her then." Once the two are done with their questions, Janet turns on the radio and we just have a good time until Randy needs to head to the venue. Janet and I finish up, double checking over everything before we accidentally forget anything at the hotel.

We make it to the venue early enough that we make it backstage, and I watch the boys rehearse and just do their thing. Randy meets my eyes from his place behind the bongos, and he sends me a wink. I make my way to the dressing rooms to replace what I fixed for the second night in New York. As I replace the red floral print shirt in Michael's dressing room, my lover walks in. His hair is a little wet from sweat and he has a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. I giggle as he does his best to freshen up. "I'm glad you don't do sound check in costume. I'd have to make an outfit for every night of the tour, since you guys sweat so much." He sticks his tongue out at me, and then has a mischievous look in his eyes. He turns and creeps towards me, his arms wide to catch me if I tried to escape him. I back away slowly, "Michael, don't do this! I'm a nice person! I just took a shower!" I go to make a break for the door but he catches me and pulls me close, squeezing me tight and rubbing his sweaty face and body all over me. "Michael Joseph Jackson! I'm going to kill you! I'll put you in an outfit from '68!" He just giggles in my ear, enjoying my shrieks and squirms. "No you won't, you love me too much." I push at his arms, trying to get out of his grip. "Not anymore! Randy's my new favorite member!" He bites at my earlobe teasingly, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear, his voice dropping from the usual airy high pitch he speaks in. "Are you sure about that, girl?" I shiver and stutter at the distraction, "Fine, you called my bluff. Now can you please let me go? I need to know when we're telling your mother." Reluctantly, Michael loosens his grip enough for me to grab the towel he used, wiping my own skin down, and I rummage through my purse for my bottle of vanilla. Michael takes a seat and smiles at me. "Girl, you know I get hungry when you wear that stuff. Smelling all sweet and stuff." I chuckle and apply the vanilla to key points. "Tell you what. When we go out to tell your mother I will buy you any dessert you want after." I watch from the mirror as he lifts himself from his seat and slots himself behind me, his mouth close to my neck, and even closer to my ear. He gives a teasing squeeze to my backside and murmurs in my ear: "What if I want you to be my dessert?" I turn in his arms, and deliver a light slap to his shoulder. "Michael! What is with you? You've never been so... forward." He just chuckles and steps away. "Maybe I'm just excited I can finally show you off to everyone. Oh, and we're meeting Mother at lunch tomorrow. I've gotten a reservation for the three of us at Mortimer's. I heard they're really good." I nod and glance down at my wrist watch. "Oh, wow! I've got to make sure Jackie's shirt fits for tonight. Break a leg if I don't see you. And I'm excited to have lunch with your mother. I love you!" I give him a peck on his perfect lips and head out the door. Michael catches my wrist before I can leave and pulls me back to him, giving me a real kiss to make up for my quick peck. I giggle as we break away for oxygen. "Alright love machine, I seriously have to go." I hurry out of his dressing room and down to Jackie.

I've never been so nervous in my life. I have no reason to be nervous. Kathrine doesn't dislike me, in fact she and I have had amazing talks between fittings and shows. But maybe after she finds out that I've stolen her son's heart, her opinion of me will change? If she doesn't approve, will Michael leave me? He is an absolute mommas boy. "Babe, relax. Mother absolutely adores you, and I do too. Everything is going to be absolutely fine. I promise." Michael squeezes my thigh in reassurance, and I take a deep breath to calm myself down.

All three of us are seated at the table and our drinks are ordered. Michael holds my hand under the table, unsure himself how to start. "Mother, I have something to tell you, I am in love with the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world." Kathrine smiles a bit at this and urges her son to continue. "That's amazing honey. Who is it?" Michael and I glance at each other before Michael tells the Jackson Matriarch. "Well, Mother, it's Y/N. She and I have been together for almost 3 years now." There's a mix of emotions on her face, and she opens her mouth, trying to figure out what to say. "Well, Michael, honey, I am so happy you found someone. You deserve to be happy. I just can't understand why you wouldn't tell anyone for all that time." I sigh, opening my mouth. "Ms. Katherine, that's my fault. I wanted to keep our relationship under wraps because Michael has worked so hard to be where he is and I didn't want to be a reason for him to receive backlash. I also knew that Mr. Jackson eliminates any distractions for the boys. I know it sounds selfish, but I would have rather kept him my little secret and not have to give him up than show him off and risk losing not only my job, but the love of my life. I know now that telling you about our relationship is going to make Michael happy, and if his happiness means I am seen as a distraction and the consequences that go with it, so be it. I regret not telling you sooner, and for that I am truly sorry." Katherine listens the entire time with soft eyes, listening to every word I say. Michael grabs my hand on the table and gives it a proud squeeze. Once again Katherine opens her mouth and what she says next almost brings me to tears. "Oh, Y/N. understand. I see you truly care about my son, putting his career before your happiness, and then his happiness over your career. I know that that is not an easy decision, and it really shows just how much you care about him. Now, I won't sugar coat anything, but not everyone will approve of your relationship. A white woman and a black man together won't be the easiest thing for people to accept but you have to remember that it is your happiness, no one else's." I felt like all the weight had been lifted off my shoulders after that. We ate lunch and enjoyed the streets of New York. After Katherine had gotten into her car, I turned to Michael. "Alright, what do you want for dessert?" Pulling me into the back of the car, he placed me in his lap. "Hmm, something sweet, a little spicy... I'll have... you."

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