#if anyone did this shit to me I am changing my name and fleeing the country

[functionalasfuck]

Does Prapai get his courting methods from serial killers?

Because calling someone from a random number, just having heavy breathing for a whole minute, then asking how hot your body is, only to say “you better watch out. I’m going to pursue you” is some horror movie ass shit

[stellisketches]

Ro’Meave sister OCs??? Can you tell us more about them? So intrigued

EDIT: Oh my god I put this in drafts forever ago cause I was going to draw pictures of them and then completely forgot. I'm so sorry it took so long.

Bro tysm for his ask I've been wanting an excuse to talk about them for forever (warning: this is a long one).

OK SO their names are February and Edelse. It'll be easier for me to cover them separately so I'll start with Feb. I'll start off by saying there's still a lot I'm reconsidering/changing about her, so if this is incomprehensible I am so sorry.

February is the older of the two, and half-siblings with Garroth and Zane and full siblings with Vylad. February several years younger than Vylad, and at the time of the end of season 1 she was 9-12 years old. Even as a toddler, she idolized all three of her older brothers, and while Zane didn't really give her the time of day, she, Garroth, and Vylad were thick as thieves and they would often sneak her out of the castle for classic teenage rebellion shenanigans (mostly just so she could have a few normal experiences before the weight of all the politics dropped on her) and for a while life was sweet. Then Vylad died, and Garroth left for Phoenix Drop without her. The latter of which hit her especially hard, as she often wondered about why he didn't take her with him. In the period of time between those events and season 1, she tried to get Zane to like her more, but that went about as well as you'd expect. However, after she told him about how she had overheard a priest that was secretly expressing disloyalty toward him, Zane began a sort of transactional relationship of what basically amounted to her snitching on anyone who was spouting disloyalty or threatening Ro'Meave reign and him feeding into her need for approval. He took note of her loyalty and even began her training as a possible Jury of Nine member later down the line.

Then he disappeared with the battle of Phoenix Drop, cue more abandonment issues.

She had mostly been trained by Janus and Lillian, and Janus did stick around for a few years afterwards to keep training her until they thought she was good enough and dipped too.

She spent the next few years honing her skills and continued Garroth and Vylad's legacy of sneaking out to ingratiate herself to the common people of O'Khasis. I'll skip a lot of boring stuff including making shady deals with the thieves guild, that one time she killed her fiancé in an arranged marriage, and roping Laurance and Travis into a wacky side quest during Aph's thief arc in s2), the important stuff happens when O'Khasis is invaded. She was in Narhaka when it happened and luckily avoided capture, and when she snuck back in she immediately started raising a rebellion movement with Edelse, who was able to get smuggled out of the castle before shit went sideways.

She ends up asking for weapons from the thieves guild, which they agreed to, however it began to take longer than expected. Then they announced Zianna was gonna be executed and she goes to the Boss demanding weapons and the boss is like "yo are those two guys Ro'meaves" and she turns around and she sees her brothers for the first time in over 15 years. Cue emotional reunion.

Anyways stuff happens she goes with them to Hyria's, finds out the random lord Zane wanted to marry was God (probably the weirdest Tuesday of her life) and goes back to help the rebellion drive the remaining Tuu'la forces out of O'Khasis.

Afterwards, I can't say for possible spoiler. But what likely would have happened would've been her and Garroth having some conflict and resolution about his initial flee from O'Khasis and trying to heal from the abandonment she's experienced over her life.

Now, Edelse; I don't have nearly as much for her in terms of lore because she was a later edition, but I'll do what I can. Edelse's parentage is... ambiguous, in terms of whether Garte's her actual father (partly because I haven't decided). She's definitely treated as a fullblooded Ro'Meave, and Garte would (seemingly) rather it be her than February that takes over lordship. She was born about three or four years after the Battle of Phoenix Drop, meaning she never knew any of her brothers personally. In terms of personality, imagine a mixture of Vylad's total deadpan and Zane's superiority complex (though she's significantly less murdery about it). She was shown to be incredibly intelligent from a young age and has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of military history, strategy, weaponry, and armory (especially those last two, designing weapons/armor is her favorite past time). She usually isn't outwardly hostile with people, however if someone, purposefully or accidentally, questions or insults her intelligence/knowledge she will completely trash their self confidence and read it like it is a pure fact. Also by season 3 she is like. barely fifteen. (Side note: Now that I think about it, if you want a basis to compare her to- think Fives from the umbrella academy. Like a 60 year old in a tweenager's body. That describes her pretty well).

Anyways, she and February can work together when they need to, but they really don't get along that well unless their teaming up against someone (be it small or large scale). Feb tries to beat her up at least twice a month and Edelse has tried to snipe her with a bow and arrow on occasion. Just normal Ro'Meave things.

[thepaintedlady00]

Chapter 11 peek Dreams POV

“It’s so good to see you, after all these years Ms. Barlow,” an old faintly familiar voice filled the room. Penelope’s stillness twisted into absolute terror and she moved to step back, trying to flee the voice, running into the table. “It has been far too long, my dear.”

This was him. Finally. Dream had been waiting to meet this doctor ever since he saw his face, saw what he'd done to Penelope, his Penelope. His eyes were glued to her ridged back, the bond between them swarmed and flooded with everything she felt. Her urge to run made him burn. Her want to slice the skin from her bones just to be free of the wrong feeling that coated her at the sound of that voice made his anger near uncontainable.

She made a noise, soft and forced. "You sound like shit. Half assed immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be?" It lacked all the venom and fire he was used to hearing. His gut twisted… She sounded scared. Never had he heard this voice, never had she allowed this raw, vulnerable weakness be heard by anyone, not even him.

A wheezing sound echoed in the room, a laugh following that made him burn hotter. "Oh, don't worry about me, dear. I'll remedy my condition as soon as you get here."

"Yeah? When I do find you I'm going to fucking kill you!" It wasn't a scream, nor a yell, but something in between. Something raw and animalistic, forced.

"Temper temper," the old man dared to mock her, to scold her like a child? "You were always so unruly. But you and I both know why that is." A broken sound left her, soft, so soft he doubted anyone but him heard it. "If you let go of the anger, what are you, Ms. Barlow?"

"Nothing." It was her voice, broken and shaking. 

"Nothing. You are nothing."

"Nothing." She thought again. "I am nothing."

"What do you want?" The Frenchman demanded, moving just a little bit further in front of him.

"Ahh The Marquis. I've been waiting so long to put a face to the name of the man that stole my money and broke our deal."

This was perhaps the only time the man's smugness made Dream happy as he answered, "I'd say it was not personal but I don't like to lie."

The pale eyes shifted to Dream, and he held the stare, watching a grotesque smile spread on the dead woman's face. "No." She moved to block him from view, but the damage was done. "You did not tell me I was in the presence of the great Dream of the Endless."

Dream was proud, glad that this man knew who he was and thus knew, even just a fraction of what horrors laid in store for him when Penelope freed him of his oath. The feeling didn't last long though, not when his lady sounded so afraid, "He has nothing to do with this."

"Does he not?" Weak coughing filled the small devices speakers. "Fear not, dear, so long as he remains out of our affairs I'll keep the glass cage empty. As for the matter at hand, I wanted to speak with you myself, to try and make you see sense, but… You've not changed, still refusing to see reason."

"Go to Hell."

"I'll see you again soon, with my real eyes. In the meantime you may want to call your friend… I fear she's run into a bit of trouble." His eyes returned to her, watching as his words struck.

"Johanna."

 The Frenchman shot the corpse, its head snapping back as it returned to the ground. The phone on the table shattered and the room went quiet, waiting. Penelope moved fast, pulling out her phone and dialing the number, clutching with all her might.Her hands were shaking so badly Dream couldn't see the screen clearly. Just this once he focused fully on her through the bond, honing in on every thought and feeling. 

"Pick up." Desperation and fear held her voice, the raw pain of old faces flashing in her eyes, filling her vision. It was enough to make him want to weep, but her thoughts are what truly broke him. "Not her. Please don't take her from me. I can't do this. Icanticanticant."

"PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE JOHANNA!" She screamed her hand pulling at her hair so tightly he could feel it on his own scalp. "Answer. Answer the phone." The ringing echoed in her ears as her thoughts began to drown out every other noise.

"God damn it…" Her breaths were quick and ragged, "Not again. No. No. No. This is your fault. It's always your fault. You did this."

"Hello?" Constsntine spoke, sounding as if she was out of breath, but Penelioe didn't move. The phone began to slip out of her loosening hands. His body twitched forward, but the Frenchman was already there. He caught the phone, worried eyes roving over Penelope as she stumbled back. "Pen, you there?"

He spoke softly, his eyes staying on Penelope. "We're here, witch."

Constantine sighed. "What happened?"

"The doctor decided to pay us a visit."

"In person?"

"No, through Giselle and a phone call." The Frenchman said.

Constantine kicked someone over the phone. "How many did she have to kill?"

The man looked at the bodies on the floor. But Dreams' gaze turned back to her as she slid to her knees, her hand clutching the box for dear life. "They'll never stop. They'll just keep coming and coming and coming." Her pain echoed through him. "Seven."

"How is she?"

"Not so good. I don't know if she can even hear us."

"Fucking bastard. When you get her back tell her I said I'm okay, it was just some thugs, no one good enough to get me."

"I will send one of my associates to help you clean up. Be safe witch."

"You too, Frenchie."

He set her phone back on the table and spoke softly. "Penelope?"

She didn't respond.

The Frenchman knelt down, carefully reaching out and touching her arm. Dream heard the dam holding back her memories break. He heard every one of their voices fill her mind, all the screams of the asylum, the doctors drills and blades, everything. She'd moved almost too fast for him to notice, grabbing one of the daggers from the box and pressing it against the Frenchmans sternum. 

As much as Dream disliked the man, he was important to her and she'd never forgive herself if she hurt him. He took a step, moving to stop her. The Frenchman

held hand up, stopping him. She dug the tip of the blade deeper as her breaths grew heavier. "Look at me, Penelope."

"Wrong… I'm nothing. Nothing. You're nothing." He wanted to go to her, wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until every last one of these thoughts was silent.

"Look at me, Ma moitié." The man said, voice still soft.

"Ma moitié." The affectionate name stilled the cries and screams. "My Pierre." He felt a pinch of jealousy rise in him, but forced it away. None of that mattered right now. All that he cared about was bringing her back from the darkness that swallowed her mind.

"There you go. It's me… your other half." He lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her cheek. "It's okay." 

"Liar." Her thoughts hissed. "He told them. He led them here. No. No. How did they find me?"

As if he could see the dark thoughts in her eyes the Frenchman smiled. "I made you a promise, you remember? I will never hurt you. I will never betray you."

"Pierre." Everything about her relaxed, the softness returning to her eyes as she looked down at the blood pooling on his shirt. "Oh god."

"It's okay." He assured her.

She was sobbing now as she threw the blade to the side and clutched his shirt. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She chanted, pressing both her hands over the blood, as if it were a mortal wound.

He pulled her forehead to his. "It's okay," he said again. "Ma moitié, it's okay."

"He was here…" She sobbed, every inch of her shaking. "He knows!"

"He's not here. He's gone."

Dream watched her curl into the arms of her friend. He wished it was him she could find such comfort in. Wished he could be the one to console this side of her fears. He'd seen the memories first hand, but The Frenchman… Pierre had been there for all these moments when he had not. I trust him. She'd once told him, and only now did he understand just how much. Penelope loved him, she loved Pierre enough that her loudest, darkest, most consuming thoughts stilled at the sound of his affectionate name for her. It made him ache with jealousy and guilt, but he could feel neither. He just felt her heartbeat, listened to the thoughts and voices and echoes of the past fade away. Pierre had earned this moment. Earned her trust and love, and so, just this once, Dream looked down at them and felt relieved.

"I have you."

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[solidhollow]

An ounce of comfort had me crawling back here, but I’ll be damned if I’ve found it. So much time has passed and so much has changed, but sometimes-like now-it’s like nothing has. I’m tired of talking to ghosts, tired of being stuck in inaccessible pasts. You fuckers would be somewhat proud of me though: I’m sober, I’m about to start EMT school which I’m a combination of excited and terrified (what’s new) but I think I’m going to be really great at it, and after a lot I’m stable in ways I’ve never known: I’m safe, I don’t have seizures anymore, I know my name, I can talk and speak up, I can go outside in public, and I fight like hell to do what makes me happy every single day even if I’m terrified. It’s lonely as hell though, I’ve never been much for lying and now is not the time to start. This whole living thing was a lot easier when I wasn’t sober, when I couldn’t remember anything, when I couldn’t feel anything. I wouldn’t erase my past if I could, I just wish I could do it different; wish I could be different for everyone. I know that’s what the present is for and I’m working on it, but 1) you’re all dead so none of this matters to you guys 2) those that are alive I’m so far out of touch with—they know a me that absolutely existed but is so fucking different/who did and said so many fucked up things. I’ve been eating my shame and reaching out, trying to reconnect but for most it seems impossible or unwanted or not allowed or not like the right thing to do. So I’m stuck here, writing to ghosts and trying to convince absolutely no one that maybe this time I’m different in ways that matter, that I’m working on it, that I’m so fucking sorry and I’m aware I fucked up and I’m working to never fuck up in those ways again. It took a lot + a very long fall well past rock bottom to realize it/to do the work but I’m doing it. Does it completely undermine all that if I say how much I wish just one of you were here with me? Trust me, I get it: I gotta be able to do this shit on my own because no one or thing is guaranteed. But I can’t erase the impact anyone of you has had on me..I can still see you, still dream of you, still smell you, still feel you. Dead or alive I can’t forget. I’m moving on, carrying pieces of you fuckers with me everyday but damn what I wouldn’t give for a time machine. You ever realized how much you absolutely fucked up your life? I ran from everything and everyone for so long. I lost everyone, pawned off all my possessions, lost myself entirely yet somewhere along the way I realized so much. And I’m violently grateful, I mean truly I was stuck fleeing city to city running away, hiding to stay alive, and just so stuck in survival mode that I’m not sure how I’m still here. I’m learning so much in such a short time though: what it means to feel safe (or what it’s supposed to mean, apparently that’s gonna take some time but I’m working on it), leaning how to ask for help, learning how to communicate, learning how to trust myself, and learning who I am outside of surviving/what it means to live. So yes, I’ve made a lot of progress and yes this is likely the healthiest/happiest I’ve ever been both physically and mentally. But I’d be lying if I said the grief and regret and fear doesn’t drown me sometimes. Some moments are better than others, and some are like now: where even despite my progress, I’m still craving the past. Not the chaos or trauma or other bullshit, just any one of you fuckers. I’d give it all up for one hour, one minute, one hug, one anything. I hate that you’re all gone, I can’t really understand how—whether dead or so entirely separated from me now—I’m here alone. Even if I’m not, I still am? Letting new people or really anyone get to know me is so confusing and I’m so terrified to get it wrong, to slip into previous habits and erase all the progress I’m fighting so hard for. C your last words to me seemed so simple but here I am entirely struggling to put them into action despite my efforts. I’ll keep trying though. Forever. Even once we meet up again. I miss you. I’ll love you all always.

[rogue-durin-16]

STICK TOGETHER

Summary: When Fred finds out Y/n is planning on leaving the Wizarding World, he canalizes his feelings in the worst way possible, which leads to a terrible outcome that seems unfixable.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: swearing

A/N: @meph1stophelian is here putting pressure on me to post this already so I'm apologizing for the poorly written ending lmaoo enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Fred, calm down." George begged me; he walked by my side, trying to talk some sense into me, but it was not the moment. "You gotta understand her— throwing a fit isn't going to help anyone—" I didn't even look in my twin's direction while he spoke. "Bloody hell, Fred—"

"Y/n!" I quickened my pace, leaving George behind after spotting her in one of the corridors, having a chat with a couple of Ravenclaws. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure— Oi!" I hadn't waited for her to reply before grabbing her hand and snatching her away to pull her into the nearest broom closet. "What was that about?"

"Tell me I heard Katie wrong and you're not actually leaving."

"I can't tell you that." She plainly responded, her voice steady.

A single, gobsmacked snide left my throat. "You're joking, right?" My heart ached as if it was being constricted when she shook her head no. "So you're fleeing?"

"What?"

"Things are getting ugly so you're running away."

Her eyes dug into mines as she stayed in a very uncomfortable silence before replying with. "So what if I am?" When I averted my eyes from hers, she called my name. Her eyes were somewhat softer now, with a gleam of plea in them. "For the last two years we had nothing but tragedy. Diggory died, You-Know-Who is back and recruiting, the ministry is full on going against a teenager, this pink colored nasty toad is physically abusing us, and on top of that, I have to put up with my housemates' bullshit for having muggle blood— I'm tired!" Her voice had raised a bit, enough for me to know she was struggling to keep it at bay, but still managed to. "If I can have a life out of this then—"

"You're a coward."

"Fred." there was a warning on her tone, but I couldn't listen.

"You're leaving... people behind," she attempted to reason; I didn't let her. "Dunno why I'm surprised, really. At the end of the day you're a Slytherin for a reason."

Her eyes started to well up, and I couldn't tell if it was with anguish or fury. I knew I was getting under her skin, but that was exactly what I intended to do; if I was going to leave that room scarred, so would she.

"Self-preservation, you call it." I scoffed, feeling my own rage building up faster each passing second. "Pure cowardy."

"Is that what you think?" Her tone wasn't steady anymore; she was holding back the poison of her words, for my sake.

"Yeah." I wasn't capable of doing the same thing for hers. "And I don't want your cheap excuses and emotional manipulation to convince me otherwise." My face was probably red due to the anger, my jaw and fists hurt from clenching them; I was off the rails, and the person who would usually stop me was standing in front of me. "Better leave now so you don't have the chance to sell us out when shit goes down."

Silence fell upon us, our gazes locked, equally watery and with the same amount of fury and sadness within them.

And finally she snapped. "Maybe I'm a coward, but you're a self-absorbed prat who's not able to see beyond your own ego!" The way she said it hurt me more than the sentence itself. "This is not gonna be a DADA class, Fred! I don't want to fucking die because I was too slow casting Protego."

"Good luck, Y/l/n." I curtly wished her before stalking out of the broom closet I have initially dragged her into.

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

We avoided each other for a week. The following Monday, when I entered the Great Hall, I found George and Katie quite depressed.

"What's gotten into you?"

They shared a look before my brother turned to me, deciding to break the news himself.

"Y/n left last night." He gave me an apologetic look. "Thought she'd wait until the graduation—"

"But she's had enough." Katie finished, toying with her breakfast. "Honestly, I wish I had a life in the muggle world too."

My lungs were refusing to take the air inside; I felt as if I would choke if I stayed there, so I stormed out, jogging to reach the countryard.

I needed to breathe.

Even after the wind hit my face, that vital task felt like the most difficult thing in the world to accomplish.

I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her.

A sob escaped my chest, realising the harsh words I had spat at her were probably the last ones she would ever hear from me.

I love her.

A Year And A Half Later

READER'S P. O. V.

I managed to apparate somewhere in the cornfield —the only place around the Burrow I remembered clearly.

I should have landed with a broom, but apparently, Mad-Eye didn't inform Lupin that I would serve as an extra escort for Harry if they were ambushed, so my broom was now smashed somewhere down the muggle road we had flown over.

Mentally cursing the damn moment in which I spoke to Shacklebolt in hopes of being useful in this war, I looked for the entrance of the Weasley home, which took me quite a while.

Funnily enough, it was Lupin who stepped out, wielding his wand and casting yet another hex at me that I somehow managed to block.

With a swift wave of my hand, he was propelled back into the house. "YOU!" A long-haired redhead I recognized as the eldest Weasley helped my old Professor up as I stalked to them with my wand up. "YOU HEXED MY BLOODY BROOM! I'M LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!"

"Y/n, calm down—" Shacklebolt was now besides me with his hands up. "He didn't know you were coming— he was trying to protect George from further harm."

My brain was slow to process his words, but as soon as it did, I started to down my arm. "What happened?"

"Snape hit him with the sectumsempra." My eyes widened at Lupin's heavy words.

"Did everyone else make it?" The three of them remained silent, the ginger shaking his head no.

My breath caught up in my throat, but before I could ask if Fred was alright, another tall ginger flashed the corner of my eye, and my head snapped to the living room's door.

FRED'S P. O. V.

Everyone was scattered around the house. Ginny took Hermione and Fleur to her room; Ron and Harry made its way up too; Tonks went out —she needed a moment alone to mourn Mad-Eye—, and, while my parents and I stayed with George, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Bill went to guard the entrance.

I was still kneeling by George's side, holding his hand while our mother healed his wound the best she could, when we heard a yell followed by a strong blow in the kitchen.

I looked at my mum and dad, my eyes flickering to my twin while I reached for my wand.

As I got up, more yells were heard, this time clearer; the voice was familiar— I knew that voice all too well.

There she stood, at the entrance of my home.

Her eyes met mines as soon as she caught a glimpse of me, and my head started to spin. I knew I had no right to do what I was about to do, but after that night's events, in which the war became very much real, I couldn't help but rush to her and engulf her in a tight hug.

Surprisingly enough, I couldn't take more than two steps forward, since she did what I intended to do first.

"You're alright." She mumbled against my shoulder. My eyes shut, trying to block the tears that threatened to fall. "How's he?" She inquired whilst pulling away with a concerned frown.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded in the living room's direction. A quiet sough escaped my lips as she passed by, her hands lingering on my arms for a brief instant before she entered the room and took careful steps towards the settee.

I barely caught a couple of words from George and Y/n's exchange, my mind still buzzing due to the shock.

"What do you say, Freddie?" I frowned at my twin, regretting not listening to the conversation. "She can take my bed, right? I'm not gonna get far anyway."

"Right." I agreed, struggling for my voice to come out steady. It was Y/n we were talking about; I had known her since our fourth year, I had been friends and more with her, seeing her shouldn't be that nerve-wracking.

A couple of minutes later, we were all heading to our respective rooms, and as I closed my room's door behind me and Y/n, it dawned on me that I had underestimated the anxiety that could cause me being left alone with her.

Get it together, Fred.

"If you want, you can grab a shirt from the drawer." I finally managed to speak, motioning at the chest besides the window. She nodded and turned to it to look for one she could sleep in.

Now that I had the opportunity, I carefully observed her, and soon realized how much she had changed in the time we were apart. Not only when it came to her physical appearance; she stood a bit straighter, talked a little calmer; the joy with which she used to sparkle was dim now, eclipsed by a severe, worried attitude— a sign of us no longer being the kids who messed around at Hogwarts.

"I missed you" I knew right away that wasn't the best start for the conversation.

"It sure didn't seem like it." The bitterness in her tone stung my heart harsher than I expected.

"You're still mad?" The way I was conducting the conversation was making me want to bang my head against the wall.

She sighed, turning around now that she had the shirt on to meet my gaze. "A year and a half, Fred. You didn't contact me for a year and a half. I thought we were friends."

"You left me behind!" I talked back, partly because I panicked, but also because I, to my surprise, was still mad too. "What did you even expect?"

"A letter?" She questioned, throwing herself down on the bed. "I mean— I didn't really expect anything, but a letter would have been a good way to let me know you didn't fucking hate me." My eyes, now fixed on my lap, went wide when Y/n's voice broke at her last three words.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, quite ashamed of having to apologise while also being scared of saying anything that could harm her further. "I'm sorry about not writing and- uh... I'm sorry about what I said to you. I know it's not an excuse but I was really mad and..." I cleared my throat and felt the blush creeping up my neck even before I finished the sentence. "... and hurt 'cause you- I thought that maybe I wasn't important enough to you and- yeah, I'm sorry about what I said." I tried meeting her eyes but they were fixed on the wall before her.

"It's fine." She shrugged, "I guess you were right anyway."

"I wasn't right-"

"You were." She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face there. "Wanna know why I'm back?" She didn't need my response. "They're hunting down my family." My heart stopped beating for a second due to the shockingly deadpanning tone. "A friend gave me a tip-off— they were tracking them down. I got to them just in time." I refrained myself from asking about them —the less I knew, the better. "So yeah, you're right, I was a coward and left people behind."

My body shot up and my legs carried me to George's bed; without me being fully aware of what I was doing or which consequences it could have, I sat down and pulled Y/n into my arms.

Though she was shocked at first, her body soon relaxed into the familiarity of my arms, and she let out a relieved sigh. "You're not alone on this." I whispered, pecking her crown. "I'm here, okay?"

"So you don't hate me?" She murmured against my chest.

Maybe it was the fragility of her voice, or the warmth of her embrace I missed so much; maybe it was this past year and a half of regret, or the night's events, but I couldn't hold back my words.

"I love you."

And even though she went stiff, even if I had just blurted them out almost in accident, I didn't regret saying them, because I, in fact, loved her.

She pulled away to look into my eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yeah." I replied, calmer than I had been in a while. "And I'm really sorry about everything, if I could turn back time—" words and air were cut off by her lips crashing against mines.

We had kissed before, but it was on a bet's behalf or to prank someone; this was different, this was her pouring her 'I love you' into actions, and I embrace it gladly.

"No more running away." I commanded when she pulled back. "From now on, we stick together." She nodded, her forehead resting against mine and her palms on my chest.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 3

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

A week passes, and her interaction with Agent Mulder fades into the recesses of her memory. She files it away under “times a cute guy hit on me,” alongside overly friendly waiters and optimistic students.

She and Ethan’s anniversary is coming up next week and she’s been grappling with the best gift to get him; something practical or indulgent? He is a prolifically thoughtful gift-giver and she feels pressure on each special occasion to select the perfect thing to give him, though the pressure comes only from herself. She’s contemplating this as she finishes up an autopsy, replacing the organs in the chest cavity and suturing up the Y-incision.

“Dana,” the pathologist about to come on shift calls out to her, “someone is asking for you.”

“I’ll just be about ten minutes, Trudy. Who is it?” she returns, gently settling the young woman’s liver back into her body.

Trudy shrugs. “Tall guy in a suit, cute, dark hair.”

She feels a flutter in her belly and then immediately chastises herself.

“Tell him I’ll be right there, please.”

She apologizes internally to the decedent as she rushes through the final steps, not taking quite as much care as she typically does.

After scrubbing her hands and fixing her hair, she steps into the hallway to find Agent Mulder sitting on a bench. His back is against the wall, his long legs crossed casually as he studies the art hung opposite him. He looks so composed and confident it unnerves her.

“Agent Mulder, what can I do for you?” she asks, forcing confidence she does not feel into her own voice.

The smile that lights up his face when he turns to look at her makes her flush, and she can feel the heat in her cheeks. Being unable to hide her emotional response behind her fair complexion has always been something she resents.

“Scully, good to see you. I wanted to follow up on the Dugan case, you said you were interested in understanding the motivation behind your autopsy findings,” he says as he stands and walks towards her, his tall frame looming above her such that she has to look up at his face. He stands close enough that she can smell his aftershave and see the stubble coming in on his cheeks.

“Oh, yes, I was curious about that,” she replies, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Why does this man make her so nervous?

“If you’d like, you can meet with the lead behavioral analyst on the case. They can tell you how they drew parallels between the wound pattern you observed and the perpetrator profile,” he offers, a slight tilt to his head as his green eyes jump around her face as though he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“That would be great, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that,” she replies self-consciously, feeling as though she asked for something she shouldn’t have, even though she’d never requested this.

“Do you have time today?” he asks, lifting his wrist to glance at his watch. She knows it’s just past 4 pm.

“Um, yes, actually, I’m done with classes for the day and that was my last autopsy. I was just going to do paperwork for a bit, but I can defer it until tomorrow.”

A small smirk flashes on his mouth, but quickly disappears.

“Alright, why don’t you meet them at that cafe you mentioned in, say, thirty minutes?” he asks.

“Okay, that should work,” she replies, “what’s their name, so I can find them?” She should have just about enough time to change and get there by 4:30.

His eyebrows lift as though he just realized he forgot something, and he pauses before continuing.

“Uh, Fox. His name is Fox. I’ll describe you to him, he’ll find you.”

“Fox?” she asks dubiously, “is that a real name?”

He purses his lips. “Sadly, yes.”

“Alright, well, thank you, Agent Mulder. It was, um...it was good to see you again.” She extends her hand with her chin held high, trying to portray an air of professionalism and not one of a girl with a crush, which is how he makes her feel.

He takes her hand and smiles at her warmly, a little something coy behind his eyes.

“Likewise. I hope to see you again very soon,” he says confidently, and she feels her belly tumble yet again.

——————————————————————————

He stands in the hallway until Scully disappears into the staff locker room, then books it over to Cafe Adamo to get a quiet table in the corner. He’s not sure exactly what he’s after here; she has a boyfriend after all. He just hasn’t been able to get her out of his head all week. When the lead analyst on the Dugan case had a family emergency and needed to take leave, he jumped at the opportunity to take over the case, getting a little thrill from reading over her report and incorporating it into his profile. It felt as though they were creating something together.

He watches the clock, a pit in his belly as he wonders how she’ll react to learning that he tricked her into having coffee with him. He barely knows her, but gets the sense that she doesn’t take shit from anyone. That is, in fact, what draws him to her. Well, that and those plush pink lips. He hasn’t been this affected by anyone since he and Valerie split.

When the door swings open and she steps through in fitted jeans and a black T-shirt, he feels a wave of nausea. She’s even more beautiful in street clothes than she was in scrubs, her tiny waist curving up into a modest bustline. She scans the room and when her eyes fall on him, she quirks her head to the side and her eyebrows knit in confusion. His heart starts to pound and he stays glued to his seat, watching her traverse the room until she reaches him and gives him an expectant look.

He holds out his hand. “Fox Mulder,” he says with a guilty smile, and she lifts her chin before tucking it to her chest, taking his hand with a pensive expression.

“I see,” she says, her tone skeptical. It’s clear that she is unsure of his intentions.

“I am the lead behavioral analyst on this case, for the record. I am now, anyway,” he offers, and watches her doubt deepen. What the hell did he think was going to happen, catfishing an unavailable woman into a date? “Will you sit?” he asks hopefully, and she does, though he can tell by her posture that she is one wrong move away from fleeing the scene.

Someone comes by and takes their coffee order, and he sets his profile on the table, getting right to the reason he asked her here lest she think he’s completely full of shit.

“You noted that the victim was stabbed repeatedly in the exact same location, giving the appearance of one wound,” he explains, “we’ve seen something similar with the other victims, and at this time my theory is that the perp lost someone close to them in this manner, perhaps a family member or parent. I believe they’re re-creating the injury that killed their loved one, though because these crimes are so rage-fueled they feel compelled to injure the victim more extensively than just the one wound. The repeated stabbing in the same location provides an outlet for that rage while preserving the one-wound injury that is the cause of death.”

She reads over his profile with interest, nodding along as he speaks. “That’s very interesting,” she says, lifting her head to look at him, and he feels a swell of pride at her praise. “You had to trick me into getting coffee with you to tell me that?” she adds flatly, and now it’s him who is blushing.

She smiles victoriously at having made him uncomfortable, a bright, dazzling, toothy smile, and he’s overwhelmed by how attracted he is to her. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again and just shrugs.

Their coffee is delivered and he watches intently as she licks at the foam on her cappuccino. Her blue irises dart up to meet his and he startles at having been caught, picking up his own cup and taking a big gulp that burns the roof of his mouth.

“Your name sounds very familiar,” she begins, “why do I feel like I’ve heard it before?”

“Uh, I had a bit of a reputation at one time,” he says with a regretful tone. “Are you familiar with the X files?”

Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Spooky Mulder,” she says with realization, “that’s where I’ve heard your name.”

He grimaces. “Not my favorite nickname, but yes, guilty as charged.”

“But you’re in the BSU now? Not on the X files anymore? I’m surprised I’ve never seen you around Quantico,” she remarks, and he can see her relaxing a bit.

“No, the X files division was shut down a couple years ago. I was in the BSU before I reopened the X files, and transferred back after I was reassigned. I’m part of a small BSU team that works out of the Hoover building, so I’m not down here all that often these days.”

“Why was the X files division shut down?” she asks before licking more foam from the rim of her mug, and he shifts in his seat.

“Well, how much time do you have?” he asks with a shy smile, “it’s a long story.”

She returns his smile. “Not that much time. So you’re into aliens and all that paranormal stuff?”

“Well, let me ask you this, Scully,” he says, leaning in, “do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

She gives him an incredulous look, but answers. “Logically, I’d have to say no.” He nods and sits back, but she continues. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed a spacecraft’s capabilities…”

“Conventional wisdom,” he interrupts, “I just happen to disagree with it.”

“On what basis?” she asks, curious but not derisive, which is what he’s used to getting in response to his theories.

“If you’d seen what I’ve seen, Scully, you’d understand why I believe in such extreme possibilities.”

She tilts her head expectantly. “Do tell, Agent Mulder. Or should I call you Fox?” she asks with a haughty tone, though a playful one, and he blushes again.

“Please, it’s just Mulder. I even make my parents call me Mulder. I’m sure you can understand why with a first name like Fox.” She makes a face that says she can’t argue with that, and he continues. “I’ve seen things, Scully, things that defy all logic and can’t be explained by the laws of science. Repeat abductees, men who can stretch their bodies and travel through the slats of a heater vent, prehistoric monsters dwelling in the woods.” She’s giving him a doubtful expression, one eyebrow cocked suspiciously. He laughs a little. “I know I sound crazy, but it’s just crazy enough to be true. When convention and science offer us no answers, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?”

She screws up her mouth, politely suppressing the “you are certifiably nuts” expression that wants to present on her face. He’s used to it, and takes no offense.

“What I find fantastic, Mulder, is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there, you just have to know where to look,” she says in a tone that is both playful and sincere.

He smiles at her, sure he looks like a total dope. This conversation is more intellectually stimulating than any he’s had in months.

“You should come see the X files sometime, Scully. Tell me how you make scientific sense of what you see.”

“You have them?” she asks with wide eyes.

He shrugs guiltily. “I may have acquired a few on my way out.”

Her head dips lower in disbelief. “Is that allowed?”

“No, definitely not,” he answers with a chuckle. If only she knew the extent of his flaunting of bureau policy during his time on the X files.

She smiles at him in a way that he can only interpret as openly flirtatious, an acknowledgement that she finds his insubordinate behavior a little bit enticing. As suddenly as the smile appears, it vanishes and she checks her watch.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she says as she stands.

“Right, you’ve got somebody waiting for you,” he says with a regretful tone.

She looks at him guiltily, then thanks him for the coffee and leaves. He sits there for a long while, staring at the door she exited through.

“Shit,” he says aloud to no one.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Kit and Ty’s reunion (Fan Fiction) - Part 7 - Let’s kick some Cohort ass

Title says it all. Just because I needed to see some Cohort ass get kicked. My kind of therapy. Characters based on Cassandra Clare’s (TSC) though I created one for the plot. Three years after TDA.

The two following days passed in a blur. Kit was returning to his bedroom after training one evening when he saw a package left on his bed. He opened it and emptied the content on his desk. There was a folded note and a necklace. Kit felt a jolt of uneasiness as he recognized instantly the whitish-green pendant with the Chinese characters carved into it. Even though he had only learnt a few Chinese words from Jem, and didn’t know how to read them, he knew exactly what the characters meant. When two people are at one in their inmost hearts, they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze.

It was the pendant Jem had offered Tessa over a hundred years ago, when he had proposed.

With a growing sense of dread, Kit opened the folded note and read. We hold someone you love. If you want to see her again, meet us at the following address. Alone. If you warn the Clave or anyone at the Institute, we will know. And what you’ll find there will be her dead body. The address printed at the bottom of the note seemed to be in a residential area, a 30 minutes’ walk from the Institute.

A flash of memories went through Kit’s head. Tessa smiling indulgently at him as he made yet another one of his bad jokes. Their banter about books and movies. Tessa carrying a giggling Mina and staring at Jem adoringly, as he was making faces to make them laugh. Tessa singing to Mina - loud enough for Kit to hear – the song his mother used to sing to him. Well, the mother who had given birth to him. Tessa was also his mother now.

When he snapped out of his daze, he was fully dressed in Shadowhunter gear. Thankfully, he always kept weapons in his room and was now heavily armed. He didn’t pause to think as he walked to the window and started escalading straight up to the Institute’s roof. He would not go through the corridors and risk being followed by someone at the Institute. He had noticed the way the Centurions sometimes seemed to suddenly appear out of thin air when he thought he was alone.

Perched on the Institute’s roof, he felt grateful for all the training Jace had put him through. He now knew that, as much as Jace could jump from unexpected, impossible heights, so could he. He had even trained to jump out of a Malachi configuration. Theoretically. Jace had smiled conspiratorially at the time, telling him it was a talent that could always prove useful.

He drew two runes, Heightened Speed and Surefooted, sparing a glance, as he always did, at the Voyance rune at the back of his right hand. He only paused to take one deep breath before jumping from the roof and landing gracefully on the ground. He murmured a silent thanks to Jace and almost wished his mentor were there for a high five.

He made it to the location in short time, although it seemed like hours to him.

He tried to circle around the meeting point, but it appeared empty. Just when he thought about doing another round, he heard laughter coming from an alley surrounded by two brick buildings. He peered his head. No one. He started as he heard a creaking noise behind him. Spinning toward the sound with his sword raised, he saw a familiar figure standing a few feet away.

It was one of the Centurions who had been assigned to his security. The Swedish blond girl, Kiersten Lindquist. She held a finger to her lips, hushing him, and slid silently next to him.

“It’s a trap” she said low in his ear. “I have sent Anush back to the Institute for reinforcements. I’ll distract them and you run. Don’t – and I repeat it – whatever you do, don’t let yourself get caught. It’s you they want. They will not hurt me if they are still looking for you. They would want to use me as bait.”

“But– Tessa…”

“She’s fine” snapped Kiersten. Then, more gently “please don’t mess up our plan.”

Wait– Kit thought, there was a plan?

Before he could ask, a dozen Shadowhunters – and it was plain they belonged to the Cohort - were circling them. They were calling themselves the Imperishable Order, now. Same shit, different name, thought Kit.

“Hey Barbie girl” drawled one of the Cohort members. He looked very familiar. “We have no quarrel with you. We just want the Herondale Faerie-slut. Leave us be and we will not harm you.”

“Manuel. I see you haven’t changed” said Kiersten calmly. “You’re still a disgrace to the Scholomance.” She drew her longsword and shouted “NOW”.

Kit sprinted, knocking down two Cohort members on his way, disappeared around the corner of the nearest building and scrambled up its wall with a dexterity that would make both Jace and Jem proud. Up on the roof, he could see six Centurions had been dispatched to look for him. He glanced at the battle taking place beneath him and heard shouts as a newcomer joined the melee and incapacitated a Cohort member in a record time, before turning to fight two others. Kiersten was fighting two on her own.

Kit decided to check on the hunt party. Only two of them had decided to climb the stairs up to the top of the building, while the others were searching the area. Suddenly, he heard in a loud, clear voice “STOP. STOP now, put your weapons down or I SWEAR TO GOD I will cut Barbie’s throat.”

He hurried back to stand at the edge of the roof, to assess the situation below.

Kit watched as the newcomer – a tall figure wearing a Centurion uniform – took a step forward and kneeled, laying his two blades on the floor. He raised both his hands as he stood. The moon lit his face. Kit gasped. Ty. No, no, no, Ty. I am so sorry.

Manuel strode to stand behind Ty, encircling him with his arms and lifting a knife to his throat. He was almost standing on tiptoe as Ty was taller than him, and it would have been comical if not for the dreadfulness of the whole situation.

A few feet away, facing them, another Cohort member had Kiersten in a headlock.

Kit had to force himself still. His hands were clutched into fists, his entire body trembling with the urge to fight. He kept repeating Kiersten’s words in his head. They will not hurt me if they are still looking for you. They would want to use me as bait.

“Well, well, look who we have here” said a woman’s voice and Kit recognized it at once. Zara Dearborn.

“Is this… Julian Blackthorn’s younger brother? The weird one? Well, whatever they say, he is hot as hell.”

Manuel laughed. “I figured you would say this, Zara. We all know you have wet dreams about Julian Blackthorn. No shame in that. You know what they say, keep your enemies closer and all that.”

Zara spluttered. “Seriously? You really want to talk about this? How about your crush on Emma Carstairs?” And in a mimicking voice, “Oooh Emma, you have such pretty blond hair and you’re such a badass, and you have this long, beautiful sword making up for my tiny, little…”

“Let’s make a truce,” said Manuel. “When we get back to Alicante, the Blackthorn Ken here will be all yours.”

“That’s actually a great idea. The look on Emma’s face when she finds out that her little brother-in-law and I…“

“I’m sorry, Zara, but this is not happening” said Ty, in a loud, clear voice, that didn’t betray a flicker of fear although he had a knife pointed at his throat. Kit felt a surge of pride. “No offense, but psycho bitches are not my type.”

Kit could see in the distance silhouettes running in their direction. He sighed in relief. Reinforcement was coming. He jumped from the roof and landed directly behind Zara, pointing his sword in her back in almost the same motion.

Several gasps of surprise.

“You think that jump was high? I can do it in my sleep” said Kit, showing off.

He winked at Ty then, who was glancing his way, pride glittering in his eyes.

Kit knew he needed to stall until reinforcement arrived. Admittedly, the Cohort members were already doing most of the job.

“So… Manuel, I have to admit I am a bit jealous. You see, I have been fantasizing about holding Tiberius in the exact same position for years now.”

Ty, who had not betrayed a flicker of emotion until then, flushed a deep shade of red.

Manual smiled viciously. “Oh, I see. I guess all Faeries are queers.” And then, he spoke in Ty’s ear but loudly, so everyone could hear “So, who’s the bitch?”

Ty didn’t answer but looked pointedly at Zara.

“Let me translate for you, freak. Do you hump him? Or does he hump you?”

“Come now, Manuel. This is the 21st Century. Keep up” said Kit, flashing his best smile. “We believe in equal opportunities.”

“OK guys, did I miss something? did we really run into Cohort members or some hormone-crazed teenagers posing as such?” it was Barbie – sorry, Kiersten – who had just spoken.  

No one answered as this was the moment when Jace appeared out of nowhere and knocked down the person who had her in a headlock with the flat of his sword.

Kit pushed Zara away, with such force that she ended up sprawling on the floor.

He instantly turned to where Ty was standing… looking down, his foot resting on top of Manuel’s body, which was writhing on the ground. Manuel was staring at his hands, his forearms, which were covered with red rashes and blisters, his face a mask of shock. A powder substance was eating away his knife, which had somehow landed a few feet away. 

Kit saw Ty put away a small vial filled with red-purple powder, with a satisfied look on his face.

All hell broke loose.

A fleeing Cohort member was swept off his feet as a whip circled around his foot and Isabelle, looking like a warrior goddess, pulled vigorously.

An arrow lodged itself in Zara’s thigh as she tried to stand up. Alec, standing a few feet away, had already pulled a new arrow. He looked… bored.

Kit knocked down another Cohort member using only his right hook. Because, well, he could.

In a few minutes, they had rounded up the wounded and tied their hands behind their backs.

The party that had been sent to search for Kit came back to an incongruous sight.

Zara, Manuel and the other Cohort members who had remained with the Centurions were now huddled together in the middle of a circle made by Anush, Kiersten, Ty and Isabelle, who was slashing at the air with her whip as to make a point to whoever thought they could chance an escape. Kit thought she looked like a hot school teacher scolding her very, very naughty pupils.

The search party turned around, making a run for it… only to be met by Jace. He was leaning casually against the side of the wall, his arms crossed.

“Hey, guys” he drawled. “Looking for something? Your dignity, maybe?”

One of the fleers launched himself at him, weapon raised, and Jace simply ducked out of the way as he drew his own sword.

Kit sensed a movement behind him, just as he was facing another one. Glancing backward, he saw that Ty had joined him to cover his back. He felt heat – the heat of the battle, the heat of Ty's body so close to his – as they fought back-to-back, four opponents at the same time.

Alec and Jace eventually joined them, and it was almost over before it had started.

The remaining Cohort members joined their friends in the circle where Kiersten, Anush and Isabelle had remained. Isabelle had put away her whip and was staring at her nails.

Clary finally swept in, gracefully, not a single hair out of place, and started drawing a portal.

“Sorry we are late” she said, standing next to Simon who was carrying large paper bags. “We had to stop to buy us dinner.”

*****

Hope you’ll enjoy reading it, as much as I did writing it @heloisacosta23 @arangiajoan @nenyx @naerysthelonesome @adoravel-fenomeno @eutonyinwhisper  @chlo-tk @the-blackdale @thechangeling @herondalebitchh

[redhoodssweetheart]

Star-Crossed Lovers Part Three

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes @onfir3​ and @sarcasmismyfirstlove

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Reader has an assumed name in this (she is not named, but she goes by Sophia Turner since she is in hiding)

Description:  Secrets are unveiled and Y/N is smacked in the face with a truth she hadn’t expected to find out.

A/N:  Okay first off, I have no idea how long this story is going to be.  It could have one more part, two more parts or more.  I am legit addicted to this story now.  Also the ending may have a sad and a happy version.  One for people who want a happily ever after and those who want to read a sad ending.  Or maybe you’ll want to read both who knows.  But I hope you enjoy this installment of Star-Crossed Lovers.  The song that the singers are singing is Ain’t About You by Wonho featuring Kiiara

Her keys jingled as she fished them out of her pocket.  Clark’s plants were not on the verge of death and she had considered her mission a success.  As she stepped inside the apartment she flipped on the lights and nearly jumped out of her skin when she noticed the dark figure in the corner of her living room.  

“Holy shit,” she gripped her hand to her chest.  Her heart was pounding, but it was starting to calm down now that she realized it was Batman in her apartment and not Sionis.

“Y/N,” he said in his gruff way.  “I have news.”

“Please tell me that Sionis is officially dead,” she didn’t want to hear anything else, but she had a feeling that that wasn’t why he was here.

The way his jaw locked only confirmed her suspicions.  “He’s still alive,” Batman confirmed.  “And he’s using someone at LexCorp to up his drugs.  The effects give the user temporary powers like Superman and Superboy’s.  It’s not on the street yet, but soon.  And Sionis knows you’re not dead.  As far as I’m aware he doesn’t know you're here.”  He reached into one of his compartments and pulled out an envelope.  “I’ve secured you a ticket to a fundraiser tomorrow night that Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp are throwing.  It’s a masquerade ball, I need you to tell me if you see anyone familiar there.  Anyone that was working with or for Sionis.  We need to know who’s supplying him.”

She took the invitation, “Fine.  Where will I meet you?”

“I’ll find you,” then he was disappearing out the window and into the night.

The dress she had picked out was red, with a thigh high slit and a mask to match.  The dress was silk, the light reflecting off it.  She felt sexy and yeah she chose red for one reason and one reason only.

God, she had to get over him.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, but no one stuck out besides the Waynes, Lex, and a few other high society members.  She didn’t like how this mission was going so far.  And when she scanned the crowd again she noticed one of the Wayne boys staring her way.  She quickly ducked into a crowd and hoped not to draw any more attention.  She wasn’t the only one wearing red so she wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb.

“Does it sound cliché to say / That I just need some space babe / It’s not you, it’s me really, uh,” the male singer began to sing into his mic.  “I’m the one that changed umm / You’re so hard to resist / A love that hurt like this / I wish it wasn’t hell / To love you more than you love yourself.”

“I don’t believe I know your name,” a husky male voice said beside Y/N and when she looked up she saw that it was the Wayne boy that had been staring at her.  

“And who says I’m going to give it to you?”  She fired back, a smirk beginning to form.

He matched her smirk, “You’re a beautiful woman, it’s a ball, I thought I’d ask you to dance with me, but I’d like to know your name first.”

She considered him for a moment and then said, “I’ll give you the dance, but you haven’t earned my name yet, stranger.”

“I see I caught your eye, again / Your pretty little lies / Wish I could stroke your big ego / But sorry not tonight, or ever / You’re so hard to resist / A love that hurt like this / I wish it wasn’t hell / To love you more than you love yourself,” the female singer sang in response to her male counterpart as the Wayne boy led her onto the dance floor.

He swept Y/N into his arms and began to twirl her around with expert ease.  Money could buy a lot of things and dance lessons was probably one of those things.  She wondered if it had been his choice or if Bruce Wayne had made it mandatory.  “So what’re you doing at the ball?  I normally know the people that frequent these,” he said as he dipped her, their faces inches from one another.

She cocked her head to the side as he slowly brought her back to an upright position, “Because you’re a Wayne?”  

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

“I work for the Daily Planet, I’m working on a story,” she said.  A half-truth, but not a complete lie.

Those blue eyes of his were starting to look familiar like she had seen them before. She wondered if he was the man she had bumped into on the street the other day, but she wasn’t about to ask him that.  And right now those very eyes were bright with mischief.  “Oh?  Looking for any sordid secrets of the lifestyle of the rich and famous because I could provide.  I know dirt on everyone here.”

“No sordid secrets for me tonight,” she said, she didn’t want to know what those sordid secrets would cost her if he were to tell her what he knew.  “I’m just covering the event.”  She had learned from articles that the Waynes and Luthor were trying to raise money for people displaced by superhero activity.  Homes that had been destroyed or other places like schools and work.

“How you stay out til 4 am / How you can’t tell me where you’ve been / Go and get that shit out your head / This ain’t about youuuuu / This ain’t about youuuuu / This ain’t about / Hate to tell you but / Hate to tell you but / This ain’t about you / This ain’t about you,” the singers sang, the song coming to a close.

The stranger still held her in his arms after the song had ended, “Have I earned the right to know your name or am I going to have to make one up for you?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”  She fired back.

“Deal.”

“Sophia Turner,” the lie slipped off her tongue, but it felt odd to tell him this name.  She had no idea why, she didn’t even know him other than the fact that he was a Wayne.  “But most call me Sophie.”

“Jason Todd,” he supplied in return.

“Oh so I was dancing with the resident bad boy of the Waynes,” she hummed.  “Let me guess you flash those pretty blue eyes at whoever you want and you can get out of any situation?”

“Not quite, but you think they’re pretty?”  His grin was turning cocky and you pushed away from him.

“Down boy,” she said.  “I’m… well I’m….”  She sighed, “It’s complicated.”

He started walking beside her as she turned to flee from the event, “I’m a great listener, you could tell me all your boy problems.”

“No tonight lover boy, I need to go anyway,” she had gotten all the information she could for Batman.  She hadn’t seen anyone there that could be working with or for Sionis, the whole night had been a bust.  Fun, but a bust.

“I’ll find you, Cinderella,” he called out to her as she made her way through the crowd not once glancing back at him.

The night after coming home Y/N grabbed some ice cream out of the fridge and waited for Batman.  When he showed up she told him that she didn’t know anyone there; he thanked her and promised to keep her updated with anything about Sionis.  But for now, she should stay where she was and lie low because Metropolis was the safest place for her. Before she could thank him he was gone.

Now it was Monday and she was at work.  Lois greeted her and was smiling broadly, “Someone got a gift.”

Y/N’s attention turned to her desk where a bouquet of red roses sat.  She blinked a couple of times because she didn’t believe that anyone would leave her flowers.  “Who sent them?”  She asked to no one in particular as she made her way to her desk, Lois still beside her.  She picked the card and saw that there was a handwritten note.

Cinderella,

I think it’s rude that you didn’t leave a shoe for me to return to you.  I’d like to see you again.  Meet me tonight at the top of the Daily Planet, seven o’clock?

Jason Todd

“Sophie!  Did you run out on Jason Todd last night?” Lois gasped.  Since the moment the two of them had met Lois had been trying to set her up.  In her own words, she was trying to ‘help you get over the man who you clearly hurt you’.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I didn’t run out on him like Cinderella, he knows my name and where I work.  I just needed to get home.”

“Are you going to meet him tonight?”  She asked, a smile on her face that suggested she wanted you to meet with him.

She gave her friend a look, “I don’t know, Lois.  I’m busy and I have other things that I need to do.”  Getting involved with a Wayne was dangerous.  They were always in the spotlight and Jason especially since he was the most mysterious of the bunch.  He attracted a camera like honey drew flies.

“Just go, see what he wants, have a little fun.  Lord knows you could use it,” Lois squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and headed for her own desk.

Y/N looked at those red roses again and let out a sigh.  One visit with Jason wouldn’t hurt.

Metropolis was nice, but Jason preferred the grittiness of Gotham.  There was something real about it, it wasn’t hiding that there was bad stuff going on.  Metropolis on the other hand was sleek and new.  Superman gave them hope and offered a shiny new take that life could be good.  He always felt like he stuck out in Metropolis, even when he was in the Robin or Red Hood uniforms.  You could tell that he didn’t belong.

The door to the roof opened and he heard her heels against the concrete.  “Flowers?  Really?”

He turned and grinned at her, getting an unencumbered view of her face for the first time in months.  She was still as beautiful as the first day he had met her.

“Well I thought about sending a candy gram, but I didn’t think that would be appreciated,” he quipped. 

She chuckled and came to stand beside him, her gaze fixed on the city beyond.  “It’s almost too perfect,” she murmured, mirroring Jason’s earlier thoughts.  “Unlike Gotham--”  She clamped her mouth shut.

“Oh, you know Gotham?”  His gaze was still locked on her face, trying to recommit everything to memory.  She had changed a little bit about herself when she went into hiding, but it was still her.  Still his Y/N.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.  “I grew up there.  Moved away a while ago.  Needed a change of pace.”  Lie. Lie. Lie.  She hadn’t wanted to leave Gotham.  She wanted nothing more than to stay, but circumstances and fate had other ideas.

Jason finally mirrored her position, “I get that.  I moved away for a bit myself.”

“Didn’t you fake your death?”  The question slipped out before she could stop it.  “Sorry, that’s a little too personal.  It’s the journalist in me, feel free to ignore it.”  She wanted to smack herself, but he huffed a laugh and she finally looked at him.  There was something so familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“It’s all right,” he said softly to let her know he wasn’t upset by her question.  “And the answer is it’s complicated.  Very, very complicated.”

“I know all about complicated,” she told him.  “At this point, I think it’s my middle name.”

“Sophia Complicated Turner, huh?”  He held out his hand to her, “I’m Jason Peter Todd.”

That made her laugh, “Are you always this corny?”

“There’s more to me than the bad boy the papers like to see, Sophia.”  He hated using that name.  He wanted to call her Y/N, he wanted to tell her everything, but he held his tongue.  

She bumped him with her shoulder, “I can tell.”

Warmth spread through him and he went to respond when a breeze blew by and she shivered.  “Here,” he draped his jacket over her shoulders.  “Why aren’t you wearing a better jacket?”  He asked like a mother hen.  “You live here and even I knew to come prepared.”

Y/N stood there frozen for a moment before gently wrapping the leather jacket closer around her and breathing in the scent of him.  Cigarettes and a familiar aftershave, a combination she had come to know as home.  Though she had tried to get him to quit smoking.  Jason’s jacket smelled like Red and she stiffened even more when the thought crossed her mind.  Red had died once too.  Red would have made similar jokes.  She looked closely at Jason, really taking him in, and there on his lip was a little scar in the same place that Red had a scar.  Then the mole on his neck, and another scar she had kissed over a hundred times.  

Y/N backed away, her breath coming out in shallow pants.  Her mind was running a mile a minute, it couldn’t be.  “I need to go,” she finally managed to say.

“Sophia?”  He asked in concern and God she couldn’t get it out of her head how he was Red.  Jason was the Red Hood.

“Goodnight,” she dashed for the door, his jacket still wrapped around her.

Once she had made it to her apartment, Batman was there.  Still in the city chasing down leads, and probably coming to ask for another favor.  The ball.  Bruce Wayne being in the city.  Everything was clicking in place.  “Call Red here,” she said before he could speak.  “I want to see him.”

“Red isn’t here, Y/N,” Batman said calmly.

“Oh isn’t he?”  She spat.  “I’m pretty sure I just left him on the roof of the Daily Planet.”  She tossed the jacket at him.  “Bruce.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but Batman - or Bruce - pulled the cowl down and revealed his true identity to her.  “How did you figure it out?”

“I’m an investigative journalist, Bruce.  Give me some credit,” she scoffed.  “If anyone looked hard enough I’m sure they could figure it out.”  She sat down on her couch and buried her face in her hands.  “Fuck, I’m so tired.”

Bruce wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, but he summoned Jason, not telling him that Y/N knew the truth.  He would wait for that bomb to be dropped by the woman herself.  “I’m sorry if we’re causing you this stress, Y/N.”

She waved a dismissive hand, “Please, I’ve been stressed since the moment Sionis ruined my life.  I knew that that plan of ours was a fifty-fifty shot at freedom.  I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life if I’m lucky.”

A moment later Red Hood entered through your window and you just looked at him.  And for a moment your times together flashed before your eyes.  “Y/N,” he said, his voice in that robotic monotone.  

“Jason,” she responded.  “Why don’t you sit down?  We’ve got a lot to discuss you and I.”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine THREE:

Crazy Erik gets worse and worse.

Warnings: angst, slight smut, psycho killer Erik. 

It’s clear that Erik Stevens is an Organized Serial Killer and a Stalker. This is another kind of killer that is typically highly educated, and as you can guess by the name, super organized. Historically, they have been known to be charismatic, and commonly lead seemingly normal lives. They plan every last detail to make sure that they won't get caught. Often, they'll watch a victim for quite a while before making a move, which is when they'll kidnap them. Once the murder is committed, they will usually dispose of the body and evidence in another location. This is also the kind of person who follows their own cases in the media, and could even try to contact or mess with investigators.

Terry wasn’t an organized kill, however, Erik had that taken care of. Since he’s an ex-skilled assassin who ended up in many sticky situations, he calls on some help to dispose of Terry’s body and any evidence left behind. To top it all off, the stupid Karaoke club didn’t have any cameras on the side of the building. The only problem is that Y/N left with Terry and there were a few people smoking and chatting when they exited the club. If police were to come asking questions, Y/N would be their prime suspect because she was seen with him in the club, which had cameras, and she was seen leaving by a few eye witnesses. 

The sudden, unexpected death of Terry left a mark on Y/N. She witnessed a man that she didn’t know get murdered. His blood soiled her skin. The gun shot pierced her ears. The loud thud almost made her jump out of her own skin. She could smell the gunpowder surrounding her. Then, as if the situation couldn’t get any scarier, the killer himself looked deranged and psycho with his gun aiming at Terry’s dead body, blood on his clothes, and a mask on. When he lifted that mask, Y/N wailed. It was Erik; her boyfriend; her lover; the one she kissed; the one she supposedly adored. That evening changed everything. If he would go so far as to kill a guy for simply helping her lord knows what he will do to her….

Y/N tossed and turned, her eyelids closed but flickering constantly from the unsettling imagery in her mind. She was having a very vivid nightmare about Terry being killed. She felt dissociation in her sleep, the nightmare so realistic that she felt like it was happening all over again. Y/N gasps, her eyes wide open and looking around the darkened room with frightened eyes. She could see large, floor to ceiling windows in the darkness and the view of a beach.  Y/N moves her hands, a choked up cry escaping her mouth when she realized that she was handcuffed. Looking down at her attire she could see she was now wearing a long, crisp white T-shirt and nothing underneath. Stilling herself, Y/N could see a figure sitting in a chair diagonal from her in the darkness. The figure casted a shadow, almost looking like the grim reaper. 

“Where am I?” She spoke with a petrified voice. 

“Woke already, Princess?” The shadowy figure spoke. 

“Erik.” She stated. She knew that deep, raspy voice from a mile away. 

“Bingo.”

Light ignited the room. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut while turning her head away from the brightness above her. The bed shifted, one of her eyes opening to find Erik himself standing on the bed above her, looking down on her. Her body was settled between his legs. She didn’t blink away from him but she did tremble with fear. He kneels down into a squat above her, reaching out his hand to grab her chin. She tried fighting against it but he was too strong, her neck painfully twisting. 

“Ouch-

“Why did you make me do this?” He asked with a saddened voice, “Why baby? Why did you make me kill him? I was trying to change...I was trying to be good for you.” 

Erik gave her a strange look before closing his eyes. He appeared to be hurt by Y/N’s actions. It confused and angered her. He had some nerve to feel the way he felt after he killed a man in front of her and now she’s handcuffed to a bed. Speaking of beds, Y/N wasn’t familiar with this one. It wasn’t Erik’s bedroom in his loft. What? Did he have two places to stay? 

“I didn’t do anything wrong!!!!!! He was helping me and YOU killed him!!!!!!! HE DID NOT DESERVE TO DIE!!!!! What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?!!!” 

That was the loudest she had ever yelled in her entire life. Erik’s body flinched each time her voice rose. He looked shocked and bewildered that she was yelling at him. 

“You’re a sick, twisted person, Erik. You are a FUCKING lunatic. You stalk me, you control me, and now you’re killing people because you can’t stand anyone to be around me…” 

Y/N tried to stay strong but she broke down sobbing beneath him. Erik rested his heavy body on top of hers and it made her cry harder. His fingers wiped away her tears and then his lips would press softly against her cheeks to try and sooth her. He’s a monster. He has no remorse for what he did and now he’s comforting her and whispering sweet things like he didn’t just take someone’s life without a backwards glance. 

“Shhh, shhh, hey...it’s gonna be alright...You don’t have to fear me...I do what I do for us. I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N, and I’m not letting you go. Now do you see how I can be? I will kill anyone who comes between us,” Erik presses his nose into her hair, “Fuck...I love you...I love you so...so...so...so much, he moves his nose around her curly hair, tangling it in the process. 

“Get off of me you sick FUCK,” Y/N spoke through clenched teeth.

“Or what?” Erik lifted his face to look at her, “Hm? Or what? You’re gonna go to the cops? What? You’re gonna run away?” He smiles at her, “I dare you to play with me like that. If you so much as open your pretty little mouth, I will snap your fucking neck.”

His wicked smile made his words more truthful. He would end her life if she ran out on him. Y/N believed every word. She tried turning away from him but Erik locked his legs around her to keep her hips still. All Y/N could do was cry. She didn’t ask for any of this. Why couldn’t he be normal? She felt torn because he can be a good person but whatever happened in his past to make him so psychologically screwed up couldn’t stay away. 

“You-you would kill me? I-I thought you said you wouldn’t kill m-me?” 

“I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.” He spoke calmly as if it were a casual conversation, “But none of that matters, you won’t leave me, I trust you.” 

“If you trust me so much then why the fuck did you have to kill him?” 

“Because...he touched you,” Erik strokes the skin on her arm, delicately “This is my skin...I touch you like this…”

“Erik...please undo these cuffs,” Y/N pleaded.

“I can’t do that. You’ll run away. The last woman to run away from me didn’t live to see another day. I swore to myself that you would be the last woman in my life. Don’t prove me wrong,” Erik warned. 

The fear she felt at the moment was monstrous. She let this man stay in her home. She let this man see her naked and have sex with her. She told this man everything about herself, even things she never told anyone else. He knew what she liked, he knew where her close family and friends live, he knew what perfume she used, he knew where she worked. Even if Y/N escaped safely, she would be on the run forever. He’s smart, clearly has skills in tracking people down. If she ended up fleeing to Alaska he would find her with no problem. What was she going to do? 

“Are you going to prove me wrong, Y/N?” 

“...no.” She spoke with a small voice. She had no other choice but to give in...for now.

His smile, despite being beautiful, scared her half to death. How could he switch his emotions on and off like that? Erik grabs Y/N’s chin, leaning forward and pressing his soft, plump lips against hers. She didn’t close her eyes but he did. She allowed him to tongue her mouth and growl. His erection rested on her inner thigh and it made her tingle which frustrated her. He still had a hold on her body. She’s handcuffed. He could tip this shirt off, bring her legs above her head, and fuck her. He could eat her pussy and she wouldn’t have anywhere to go. She would have no other choice but to cum in his mouth and on his dick. And the sad part is, Y/N would let him. He was so manipulative seducing her. 

“Hm...I do want to uncuff you...I’m not gonna lie,” Erik takes a single finger to stroke her cheek,  “ But seeing you like this...that shit is making my dick extra stiff.”

“Please? Please let me out of these cuffs, Erik,” Y/N begged, “I promise I won’t leave just let me out.”

“I’m glad you’re deciding to stay with me. I love you so much, girl. I know this is a lot to take in but I promise, I won’t scare you anymore...I won’t kill anyone else as long as you behave.” 

Erik kissed the tip of her nose before lifting from the bed completely. Y/N studied his attire. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a white beater. Erik digs into the pocket of his shorts, pulling out a single key. She stared at him with anticipation. Erik walked up to her, grabbing her wrists in his hand. She couldn’t see too well but she could feel her wrists being freed. Erik places the handcuffs in his pocket, walking to the foot of the bed. He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes trained on her like a guard dog. 

“Where am I?” Y/N brings her wrists down to rub them. She sat up in bed, her eyes darting around the room. It was very luxurious. She could make out a walk-in closet, a master bathroom, and a balcony. She spotted an exit to her right. 

“This is my main home. I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to know what I have here but...you're here now, there is no use in hiding it anymore.”

“...what are you talking about?” Y/N looked at him with caution. 

“I can show you,” Erik held out his hand for her to grab, “Come on...you want to know, I’ll give you a personal tour.” 

“I don’t know,” She shook her head, “I don’t know if I want to go I’m scared-

“It’s too late for that. I killed that nigga in front of you, Y/N. You know what I’m capable of. Get up.” He spoke with finality. 

Erik could switch from sweet and gentle to hostile and demanding in a matter of seconds. Y/N got up from the bed, timidly walking up to Erik. His tall, muscular body loomed over her before he grabbed her hand, leading her out of the room. Walking out of that room, Y/N’s eyes danced around so that she could take it all in. The windows seemed to follow her the more they walked. His main home is so wide open and airy. This had to be his safe house. Y/N guessed that no other woman had the opportunity to see this place. 

The place was remarkable. Chef’s kitchen, grand dining area, large living room with a TV so big it looked like a projector screen, and luxury cars lined up in neat rows along with a sports bike. Erik was leading her down the steps to a basement now. The temperature changed from cool to warm in seconds. The walls are painted black as they walk down the steps. The more they went, Y/N noticed the walls are now lined with acoustic foam, the floor is carpet, and there are fancy glass curio cabinets filled with weapons of all kinds. 

“You’re shaking,” Erik says, looking over his shoulder at her.

“...You have a lot of guns and knives, Erik,” Y/N spoke with a small voice. She looked behind her, spotting a door automatically closing like they were in a lab. The wall has a touch screen panel on it for fingerprints. He wanted to make sure no one came in or out of this basement without his knowledge. 

“I’m a trained killer, Y/N. It’s necessary.” He says. 

That was fact number one that she didn’t know about him. Trained killer means he’s been murdering people for years. She knew he was a Navy Seal at one point but clearly it went deeper than that. Y/N paid close attention to Erik pressing his thumb into a touch pad on the wall. The door opens, darkness ahead. 

“You want to know what daddy does down here?” His voice grew darker, “I haven’t used it in a while, for at least a month, figured I could show you that side of me that I used to entertain until recently…”

Y/N tried to twist her hand from his grip but Erik yanked her, causing Y/N to scream.

“SHUT UP.” He spoke so close to her face Y/N had to close her eyes, “I’m not going to hurt you! Chill out. I promised you that, didn’t I?!” 

Walking with Y/N still in his grasp, Erik turns on a few lights, the entire room ignited now. There are a series of operating tables lining the walls and draped with plastic, and in the center of the room is a large glass case that looks like a prison. Inside there is an air mattress with a few blankets, and some books. 

“It’s empty now, but it was occupied about two months ago. Things didn’t go so well, so I had to kill him.” He spoke nonchalantly. 

“Kill who?!” Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes away from the rectangular prison.

“Your ex, Dominic. He was the last person I killed before Terry. Dominic had plans to take you away from me. I saw the texts, I listened to the voicemails, and then He told me that you met up with him a few times...you lied to me.”

Y/N did in fact keep in touch with Dominic. They had history together. He was her friend before they started dating. Yes, Dominic wanted Y/N back in his life after they ended things and Y/N was only meeting with him because she felt like telling him in person that she was seeing someone else would show Dominic how serious she is. Y/N ran into him while on lunch break at work and they talked about it. If Dominic didn’t reveal that they were meeting up he would probably still be alive. Dominic provoked Erik, and now he’s six feet under, well, technically swimming with the fishes from what Erik just confessed. 

“His family is looking for him, Erik. They don’t know where he is! They think he might have left the country to Europe like he always wanted to do! Instead, you had him locked in a fucking cage for over two months! You killed him! No! Let go of me!” Y/N yanks her hand from Erik’s, stumbling back and falling painfully on her backside. She groaned in pain because she fell on her tailbone. 

“Y/N,” Erik reaches out to help her up but Y/N slaps his hand away. Erik’s face went from sincere to vengeful in a matter of seconds and now he was picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. 

“You need to calm the fuck down!!!” Erik yells, “Hmph,” he growls angrily before laying Y/N down on one of the operating tables, “DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN?!!! Don’t make me cuff your disobedient ass to this table and leave you here all fucking night because I will fucking do it.” He spoke angrily in her face. 

Y/N slaps him. Erik touches his face before looking at her with eyes so black and empty that she is cowardly beneath him. He rubs his cheek, the corner of his mouth twitching up before he smirked at her. 

“That shit really hurt, baby. You wanna play?” Y/N squirms beneath him, “you wanna play with daddy?”

“No, Fuckkkk…no,” Erik drags kisses down her neck to her cleavage. She tried pushing at him but now Erik’s has her hands pinned down. Her arms shook trying to free herself.

“You wanna know what I use these tables for?” He whispered in her ear, “I use them for people I desperately want to kill...I chopped up Dominic’s body on this exact table, Y/N.”

Y/N knees Erik in his upper thigh, almost aiming for his balls if he didn’t move so swiftly. 

“Oooh, okay, You really want to hurt me, huh? I like pain, but daddy needs his balls, baby. I plan on emptying my balls in your little pussy...make you have my child.” 

She allowed her head to fall back with defeat. He was kissing her breasts now, focusing his lips on her nipples that started to grow stiff beneath her shirt. 

“You’re telling me no but your nipples are hard as fuck, Y/N. You hit me, and you don’t want to play? You shouldn’t have hit me, girl.” 

“I’m sorry, I won’t hit you again,” Y/N looks at his lips, “I promise. I’ll be good.” She swallowed spit nervously. 

“...okay,” Erik’s hands drag down her waist, “Okay, baby girl. Maybe I should give you a bath and feed you, that way, you can sleep it off and relax. You’re just so tense,” Erik squeezes her stiff shoulders, “By tomorrow, you’ll be just fine.”

Y/N quickly nods her head before giving Erik a smile, “I’d like that.” 

Erik strokes her hair before lifting her off of the bed, physically carrying her out of the room. His strong arms held her tightly. She studied his face, her mind whirling. This man was confusing her and scaring her at the same time. He could be so filled with rage but yet so soothing. He looked down at her, smiling with his dimples before kissing her forehead. 

When they made it back to the room, Erik undresses Y/N bringing her to the bathroom with him to run a bubble bath. She watched him use an assortment of essential oils before pouring in a lavender scented bubble bath, the kind that she uses. He sits her in the warm bath before kneeling beside the tub, grabbing up a soap sponge to clean her off. She sat there with her eyes glued to him, wondering in the back of her mind if he would try to drown her if she tried to fight him again. 

“You smell just like you did when I saw you leaving that gym,” Erik squeezed the sponge over her back, “Do you remember? I bumped into you while you were on your way out. Lavender...I can still smell the lavender in your hair and on your skin. You showered that day, didn’t you? You always showered before you left the gym. I watched you once after that, you have this way of rubbing your body down sensually...that’s when I knew you needed another man in your life.”

Y/N tried to recall the memory but it didn’t hit her. He was always there but she didn’t pay attention. He just confessed to watching her shower at the gym. He was probably in the stall next to hers, his body pressed to the foggy glass, learning every mark on her body. 

“I took your panties after that out of your gym bag, beat my dick to you every single night with your panties wrapped around my hand while I stroked,” Erik brings the sponge down between her legs, “You’re natural aroma had my dick stiffer than any other woman I’ve been with. So moist, so sweet, and yet so creamy when I beat it up.” 

Erik licks the soap from her shoulder. Y/N turned her head away trying her best not to cry. He was moaning while tasting the soap on her skin. She closed her eyes and then his tongue dragged over her nipple. She gasps, her hands coming up to grab her breasts to stop him. Y/N turned to face him and her nose touched his from how close he was to her face. Erik bites her lower lip with his eyes still on hers. 

“I need you,” He whispers.

___________________

Waking up to waves crashing against the sand in the middle of the night would have been peaceful if it wasn’t for Erik laying next to her sleeping. He has his hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer whenever she would shift in the bed. She would have tried to make a run for it by smashing the lamp on the side table next to his bed over his head but he wasn’t letting her go with that strong arm. Waking up handcuffed just a few hours prior had Y/N thinking of a plan to leave. The thought of his basement made her shiver with fear. He not only killed Terry, he killed her ex. Y/N could feel Erik’s lips on the back of her neck and his dick against her ass. She was completely torn. One side of her wanted to run away and never look back but the other side of her wanted him to ravage her insides. It was sickening. Now, she felt like a lunatic. Who desires to fuck a man that threatened to kill you if you walked out on him? She would need some serious therapy if she escaped. 

“Why do I have the feeling the wheels in your head are turning,” Erik whispers, his breath tickling the back of her neck. 

“Huh?” Y/N decided to play it off like she didn’t understand what Erik was saying. She turns to face Erik, placing a smile on her face and hoping she could decisive him.

“...You’re plotting something...what could you be plotting that doesn’t involve me, hm?” Erik squints at her suspiciously. 

“No, no I just...I can’t stop thinking about it,” Y/N looked down at her fingers, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over it.” 

Erik sighs, throwing the covers off of his body and revealing his nudity to Y/N’s vulnerable eyes. She could see him thickening between his toned thighs before she tore her eyes away, bringing the sheets closer to her chest while sitting up in bed. Erik strokes her curly hair from her eyes, placing some of the strands behind her ear.

“You have me. I’m sorry I let my anger get the best of me. If it was up to me...I would have preferred to kill Terry without you knowing but his arm was around your shoulder, Y/N...my shoulder…that shit set me off.” 

Erik kisses her neck multiple times. She could tell that he wanted to fuck, especially with his hands pulling her closer. Her heart was racing in her chest cavity. It was the knowledge of Erik being a literal serial killer and the fact that she is still attracted to him. This shit was hot in some of the erotic fantasies that she read but it wasn’t words on a page, it was really happening in the flesh. 

“You want to fight it but you know how much you want this dick,” he gave her a crafty smile, “Am I right?” He kissed her slowly. 

That small voice in her head was telling her don’t do it but the more he kissed her the more she betrayed her thoughts. What were the signs in the beginning that he was definitely bad news? Well, now that she thought of it, Erik has way too much going for himself but he still managed to make you feel bad for him. All of his attributes seem too good to be true, and then, he hits you with that one sob story that tugs at your heartstrings. His parents were killed and that left him to grow up on his own in foster care. Then, he was always so hung up on his ex-girlfriend even though he never said her name. He always said how much she broke his heart. 

Erik seemed to know Y/N’s entire life history AND what time she left her apartment, what she usually cooked on Wednesday evenings, her favorite sex toy, and she never told him any of this, she just assumed he was great at guessing. Plus, Y/N did notice a fair amount of her panties going missing and other things like her rose gold anklet that her mother gifted her from her room before she even met him. All of these facts hit her like a ton of bricks while she gave in and stuck her tongue down his throat. This shit was toxic and yet she couldn’t stop. 

“Erik,” he yanked the covers from the entire bed, climbing on top of her. Erik kisses her savagely so much so that Y/N couldn’t even breath for a second. She pushes at Erik’s chest for him to slow it down but he just keeps on going, his hands all over Y/N’s body, tweaking her nipples, rubbing her inner thighs because he knows that’s her soft spot, and growling in her mouth like an animal. 

“You can’t get enough of me...look at you...you’re so addicted to me, Y/N, and you thought about leaving me? How could you leave me when I make you feel the way you do,” Erik trails his kisses down to her breasts before sucking on her nipples, tightly tugging them into his mouth. Y/N’s toes curled while she tugged on Erik’s hair. All rational thoughts went straight out of the window the more he suckled her nipples just like she liked it, using a little bit of teeth. 

“Fuck, Erik, what the fuck are you doing to me?” 

“I’m sucking all over these delicious titties...now I’m about to suck all over that clit,” Erik chuckles while kissing down Y/N’s stomach. 

“No...fuck...I mean what are you doing to me?” Her mouth fell open, “Shit.”

“I’m giving you exactly what you want. No use in fighting this shit, girl, now bring your knees up to your ears so daddy can eat.” 

Y/N hesitates but Erik’s soft lips on her kneecaps made her shiver. Erik spreads her thighs, his head resting between them, staring at her, “Come on, baby,” Erik kissed her thighs and bites her flesh, “fuck, you taste so good.” 

“Erik-

“You know when we fuck you call me daddy, Y/N...now what’s my name?” Erik kisses her pussy lips while looking at her. 

“Daddy,” She spoke with a whisper.

“Now bring your fucking knees to your ears.” 

Y/N’s legs went up and as soon as her knees touched her ears Erik was on her pussy swiftly. The thickness of his tongue on her folds had her eyes crossing. Y/N grabs Erik’s tapered locs in her hand forming a ponytail and starts yanking it. Her hips were off of the bed, driving her pussy into his mouth. She felt so dirty for doing this. A serial killer; a psycho is sucking on her pussy. She thought about what life would be like with Erik after this. He wasn’t going to let her go willingly. She could probably end up being his sex slave or worse, she could piss him off and he would probably tie her up and punish her, whatever types of punishments he liked to give. 

“You’re crazy,” She spoke with a struggle, looking down at him with hooded eyes, “you’re fucking crazy.” 

“And so are you for letting me eat this tasty ass pussy.” 

Y/N’s eyes tear up, “Oh, God-

“God ain’t here, babygirl, ima fix you good,” He continues to slurp her up like an icy making her thighs tremble. He’s supposed to be the villain of this fucked up situation. He was toying with her innocence. She felt like she was making a deal with the devil, signing over her soul with her moans and whimpers so he could suck it right out of her and into his mouth. Y/N’s thighs locked around Erik’s head and now her hands went up to squeeze the pillow she was resting her head on. 

She sold her soul and signed it right on his tongue with her delicious cum. After Erik drank her up his lips were on hers again, giving her a taste of her pussy. He flips over to lay on his back with Y/N on top of him. She looked down at him with shy eyes while his hands rested on her hips. He grabs the flesh of her ass, lifting her up with the strength of his arms.

“Grab my dick and put it in daddy’s pussy,” He commands. Y/N reaches between her legs, grabbing up Erik’s dick, “Now sit on my fucking dick.” He spoke through clenched teeth.

Y/N slowly lowers her pussy on Erik’s dick. Her hips jerked from how thick he is causing Erik to grab her tighter. He pulled her towards him while hooking his arms around hers with his hands on her shoulders. Erik lifts his hips from the bed, working his dick up into her pussy and from that angle it was pushing deeper. 

“I’m already crazy, right,” Erik slaps her ass so hard she almost lost her balance, “drive me insane with this pussy.” 

Y/N was locked in place with Erik’s grip on her shoulders while he fucked her with a blur of his hips. She supposed this was his way of punishing her for making him take Terry’s life. The pain and pleasure tightened her abdominal muscles so tightly she was forming a cramp on her side. Only ten minutes in and she’s squirting on his dick. This man was clearly born with an insatiable appetite for destruction in all forms. He was currently using his destructive nature to fuck the living shit out of Y/N’s pussy. 

“I’m cumming,” She announced even though Erik could feel her walls squeezing him for dear life. 

Erik spoke softly as not to disturb her orgasmic moment, ruining her in the process, “I’ll have you cumming on this dick forever.” 

“Unh,” Y/N’s body released her essence all over his dick making it wetter. Erik trades places, arching Y/N’s back. He aggressively pressed her face into the bed while his body stood above hers. Erik grabs the headboard before putting himself in a push-up position. His dick went right in from above her and it was so deep and thick she could feel her pussy lips expanding to make room for him. Looking above her she could see Erik watching her closely with a straight face like he wasn’t deep in her guts. 

“This is your daddy dick, baby,” He reminds her, “Did you hear me?” He pushed deeper causing Y/N to squeal, “what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine. Ahh, fuck, baby,” Erik hisses, picking you the pace, “you gon’ have my baby.”

“Shit,” Y/N reached back to press at Erik’s chest. Erik slaps her hand away hard before locking them her wrists behind her back. Now, she was taking his dick with a mixture of pleasure and pain that has her leaking all over him and her walls sore. Her mouth was open in a silent scream the harder he went. 

“Daddy is cumming, mmmmm, fuck this is the best fucking pussy,” He growled a few times, pulling Y/N up to bite her shoulder. She screamed the more he fucked her savagely. He has one hand on her waist and the other wrapped around her neck. 

“I-

“Yes, take it baby, take it, Goddamn here it comes, uhhhhhhh shit,” Erik slowed down while his warm cum filled her womb. 

____________

It’s been five days since the event at the Karaoke club. While Erik was on his morning run on the beach, Y/N kept a close eye on him from the open patio doors that led a trail to the beach. It was 6:34 AM. There is enough light for most objects to be distinguishable, so that some outdoor activities, but not all, can commence. His sweaty, muscular frame could be seen doing push-ups on the beach with his AirPods in his ears, shirtless, and his ball shorts low on hips. She chose these times to check her phone even though it was linked to his but she needed to make a quick call to her older sister, April. When she checked her phone within the past five days she hesitated on answering missed calls and messaging back. Everyone was worried about her, saying it wasn’t normal for her to be this silent for almost a week. 

“Y/N?!!!” April damn near screamed into the phone, “Where the hell have you been?!! I got your friends calling my phone telling me they haven’t heard from you since you went out with them!! does this have something to do with that bitch ass nigga Erik? If so don’t make me get this nigga killed Y/N you know I don’t play about my family!!!!” 

“April, chill,” Y/N looked out the open patio doors to see Erik doing sit ups now at an impossible speed. 

“Ain’t no fucking chill!!! What the fuck is wrong with you? Where does this nigga live? Tell me now!!!!”

“April, I have it under control-

“No the fuck you don’t. I’m going over to your place. Fuck this, we need to talk. If it’s some sneaky shit with this nigga we are packing yo’ shit up and you are coming to stay with me and Darrell,” April could be heard moving around, “I’m about to make this trip home then I’m gonna be at your place.”

“April, please, I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m alright. I’ll call my girls to tell them the same. There is no need to go to my place, calm down,” Y/N pleaded but April was already on 100 and she knew when her sister got like that there was no calming her down. 

“You sound like you’re nervous about something...is Erik in earshot? If so LET ME SPEAK TO THAT NIGGA!!!” 

April was so damn loud that Y/N had to pull the phone away from her ear. As if her senses were giving her a warning, Y/N looks up to see Erik walking back to the house, his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to see what she was doing. His feet moved at a faster pace and he took his AirPods out of his ears. Y/N dashed out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. He saw her on the phone and she wasn’t supposed to be calling anyone without him present. She locked the door and sat on the toilet. Just seconds later Erik is banging the door down.

“April, listen, I’m fine, just...just wait until I get back home so we can talk things out. Don’t make this situation bigger than what it is...keep it between us, okay?” Y/N looked at the door with glossy eyes.

“Listen...you’re my sister and I love you...I won’t tell anyone but bitch I am still coming over. We have a lot to discuss. I love you, I’ll see you soon.” 

April hung up at the precise moment Erik decided to yell.

“OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR Y/N!!!” 

She jumped where she sat, “Erik it was just April! I haven’t talked to her in days. She was worried!”

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?!!!!” He banged on the door so hard it sounded like it cracked from the other side and it was a solid interior door. He was on the other side probably charging towards the door and hitting it with his shoulder.

“Y/N IF I WERE YOU I WOULD OPEN THIS DOOR QUICK,” He growled. 

“Erik please, please don’t hurt me-

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!” He pounded his fist over and over and over. Y/N covered her ears, her phone dropping to the floor. She had nowhere else to go. The windows were so tiny she could only fit her head and arms through it. 

“Baby...listen,” He huffed and puffed like he ran a marathon, “Okay...I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry for being so damn angry but you shouldn’t have called your sister, baby. I bet she thinks I have something to do with it,” Erik laughs, then it goes quiet for a second, “Baby, please open the door. I just want to talk. I promise.” 

“Erik...I don’t think so-

“Where else are you gonna go? We can stay right here all damn night into tomorrow I’m not leaving this fucking spot, Y/N. You’re sister is going to come looking for you...you know what that means, right?” 

Y/N sat up straighter. 

“I bet you’ll open the door now.” He says. 

Y/N stood from the toilet, walking to the door. She stopped with her hand barely grabbing the knob before unlocking it. Erik was standing right there, leaning with his shoulder, arms folded and body sweaty from head to toe. His chest moved up and down, face stony. Y/N stepped away carefully, her eyes trained on him and her body prepared to fight if he tried anything. Erik steps inside, looking around before his eyes land on the floor. He looked at her through his lashes with his head bowed. He bends down, picking up her phone. With quick fingers, Erik unlocks it, looking through her texts, and her missed calls. He chuckles before looking up at her.

“They blowin’ yo’ shit up baby,” He smiles, “Missing you like crazy...ain’t got shit on how much I miss you though...what did April want?” 

“She just-she didn’t hear from me in days, Erik. She was just seeing how I was.” 

“I bet...your sister can be a fucking nuisance so I know she blaming this shit on me...bitch ain’t like me from jump,” Erik reads April’s texts, “Yeah, she suspecting some shit...ima ask you again, Y/N, what the fuck did she want?”

“Erik chill the fuck out, forreal! Leave April out of this. She’s my sister, you know she’s gonna be worried. I’ve been here for five days straight, haven’t answered my calls or texts, people are gonna suspect!” 

“You know how many times you’ve gone without communicating with your fam’ and friends? I don’t even wanna hear that shit, girl. Now...tell me what she called you about.”

“Erik, no-

“TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK SHE WANTED!!!!” 

Y/N watched Erik squeeze her phone so hard the veins in his arms popped out at an alarming rate.

“Okay-okay-okay! She said she was going to stop by my place to check on me. She’s upset, Erik, please, please don’t do anything!” Y/N was on her knees, begging him repeatedly. 

“FUCK!!!” Erik throws Y/N’s phone on the floor so hard it chatters. The pieces scattered in different places. 

“What?” Her lower lip trembled and her fingers went to her mouth. She flinched when Erik started throwing punches at no one like he was boxing an invisible opponent, cursing his ass off and pacing.

“Erik what?!!!!!” Y/N yells.

“What? Fuck you mean what? She knows something went down. Nah,” Erik shakes his head with a mug on his face.

“E, please,” Y/N wipes her face, “My phone is gone now, no one can contact me.

Erik stood there deep in thought with a finger to his mouth and his eyes unblinking on the floor. After what felt like forever he seemed to have come to a decision while nodding his head. Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach like she was free-falling. 

“Erik,” Y/N couldn’t even finish her words. She screams as Erik grabs her by her upper arm, pulling her from the bathroom. 

“Too late, Princess,” Erik walked up the steps with Y/N tripping over a few. In his room now, Erik tosses her to the bed before grabbing his handcuffs from his dresser drawer, “Turn onto your stomach. DO IT.” He spat angrily at her, “Can’t fucking believe you.” He slams the drawer shut loudly causing it to shake.

Y/N turns, bringing her arms up above her head. Erik grabs her arms, handcuffing her wrists to his headboard again. Y/N silently cried, the tears blurring her vision. Erik brought her hips up, her back arching. He gives her stinging slaps to her ass that almost made her piss herself. 

“What I tell you about disobeying me?! Huh?!!!”

“I'M SORRY!!!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. 

“Ain’t it scary knowing that any time could be the last time you talk to someone? Keep that in mind while you’re handcuffed to this bed,” Erik kissed her bare ass since she was just wearing a T-shirt. He hopped off of the bed and went to his closet. Y/N could hear him clicking away on a touchscreen, surely opening a hidden room. She cried and cried while Erik got dressed in all black from head to toe including black gloves. He put on a black ski mask, rolling it up so it could rest on his forehead. Erik flexed his fingers in the gloves, not even giving Y/N a backwards glance as he walked out of the room while she screamed his name in the distance.

__________________

April stepped off of the elevator on the third floor of her sister's apartment building. She knocked a few times, waiting patiently. When no one came to the door, April pulled out her keys, opening the door. It was dark, that was the first sign that let her know that Y/N wasn’t home. Red flag number one. April turned on all of the lights in the living room, looking around like the police invading someone’s home. Her heart raced. A shuffling noise came from down the hall where Y/N’s room is.

“Y/N? Girl? It’s me April,” April pulled out a small handgun that belonged to her boyfriend Darrell, “Y/N?” She pointed it straight in front of her while walking. Now, she was surrounded by darkness again. The hair on her arms raised the more she went. It was so quiet she could almost hear her heartbeat. Finally, standing at her sister's bedroom door, April kicks it open, her gun pointed and aiming everywhere. She was ready to shoot Erik if he was holding her sister captive. April was good at reading people, especially from all the serial killer documentaries she watched. Erik was at the top of her list. Some of his possessive qualities from the beginning rubbed April the wrong way. 

A floorboard creaked and April turned around, aiming her gun in the hall. Of course, there was no one. A chill went up her spine and as she turned she hit something solid. April stumbled back, her gun falling from her hand. It was dark minus the light from the living room. She was on the floor scrambling for the gun and as soon as she gripped it, a lamp light came on and standing above her dressed in all black is the psycho himself. 

“You,” she said with spite, “Where. Is. Y/N.”

“Hello to you too, April,” Erik folds his hands over his crotch, “She’s good, chilling at my crib, why? Wassup?”

“She’s been silent for days now, Erik. I know something weird is going on,” April stood up, stepping away with her gun pointed at him, “Where is she?”

“Don’t worry about all that, she's good, I got her,” Erik looks at her gun with a big handsome smile, his golds shining, “Really, April? Put that gun down, girl.” 

“Or what?” April aimed for his head, “I got my gun license, I’ve taken classes, I’ll put a bullet in your head,” she spoke with confidence.

“You better handle that burner carefully, ma, no trembling,” Erik walks up on her, “Hold it with both hands,” He smirked evilly. 

“Back the FUCK UP!” 

“Let’s go, let that thang off,” Erik widened his stance, “You so bad, April, show me what you learned.” 

“Fuck you,” April was furious, “Just tell me where she is, let her go, and we can part ways. Just know, she’s coming with me.” 

“She’s mine,” He said with his brows raised. Erik charged April in a blink of an eye before she could even pull the trigger and slapped her in her face. April fell to the ground, clutching her right eye. Erik undid her entire gun swiftly, putting all the pieces in his pocket. 

“All that shit you talk and not ONCE did you pull the trigger,” Erik grabs April from the floor by her neck, “You should have bought a whole army with you, girl! Now that’s a fucking challenge.”

“Ahhhhhhhh!! Ah-ahhhh,” April’s screams grow fainter and fainter from Erik’s grip on her neck growing tighter, “Let me go! Let me go!!! Darrell will have your neck you sick motherfucker!!!! You messed with the wrong one!! You’re dead!!!” 

April’s phone started to go off. 

“That’s probably that nigga now,” Erik digs in April’s jacket pocket, her phone in his hand now, “Aww, Daddy Darrell, how cute,” Erik pockets her phone, “Don't worry, ima handle him too cuz I know you ran your big ass mouth to him, am I right?!!!!!” 

April spits in Erik’s face. It hit him in his eye. Erik wipes it away with his gloved hand, looking down at April like she was Big Foot with how wide his eyes are. 

“You spit in my fucking face you nasty ass bitch!” He yells. Erik slams April against Y/N’s bedroom door repeatedly.

“DARRELL!!!!” She yelled, tears in her eyes. Clearly, April underestimated the situation. If she knew Erik was so dangerous, she should have come with Darrell instead of by herself. Erik drags April out by her arms. She’s kicking and screaming, clearly making too much damn noise. 

“Shut the FUCK UP,” Erik warns, “I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP APRIL.” 

“Help me!!! Please!!! Help! Help! Help-

Erik turns, using all his strength to punch April so hard she was knocked out. Her body went limp in his arms. Erik drops her on the floor in front of the apartment, pulling out a pair of cuffs to restrain her wrists. She would soon wake up in Erik’s glass prison. Now as far as Darrell goes, Darrell’s going to die. 

“Y/N, will enjoy this little reunion,” Erik brought a body bag with him that he can carry. He used to use that back for weapons but April is small enough to carry inside since she’s so short and petite. Erik puts April in the bag, groaning when her phone kept going off in his pocket. 

“Your nigga ain’t playing,” Erik does one final sweep, making sure nothing is out of place. Once the coast was clear he carried April out of the apartment in the bag, making sure to remove his ski mask so he doesn’t look suspicious. He made it out of the apartment, taking April out of the bag and placing her in the back seat. It was time to get Darrell. April stirs in the back seat, whimpering in pain.

“Good, you’re up,” Erik calls Darrell on her phone, putting it on speaker, “Tell Daddy Darrell you’re fine and to meet you at the pier to talk. And try and tell him you’re in trouble if you want to, I will paint this car with your brains.”

“Hello?! Baby?!”  Darrell spoke with worry.

“Darrell, hey baby,” April spoke with a shaky voice. Erik has his gun with a silencer attached pointed to her head, “Listen, can you meet me at the pier? It’s urgent, we need to talk.”

“What?!Tell me what’s going on. I’m on my way to Y/N’s place now! I told you to wait for me!” 

“Darrell, baby, please, just meet me by the pier. I’ll let you know as soon as I get there, okay?” Erik pressed the gun to April’s throat.

“...Aight. I’m on my way.” 

“Good girl,” Erik says while tossing his gun in his passenger seat, “Make sure you give Darrell a final kiss-kiss with a lot of tongue cuz he ain’t breathing no more afterwards.” 

“You’re sick,” April cried, “I can’t wait for the day you die.”

“Judge if you want, we all gon’ die, I intend to deserve it.” 

Erik does 80 the rest of the way. 

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[jos-corner-of-the-world]

Last House on the Left {35}

{thirty four}

The next morning you woke up when you heard Minghao slamming cupboards in the kitchen.

"What the fuck? Would you be quiet?" You yelled out at him.

"I'm going to be late." He yelled back. You couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny! Jun's salty ass really might fire me this time."

You threw your blankets off before walking into the kitchen.

"Maybe don't snooze your alarm 8 times."

"Maybe don't convince me to watch all three John wick movies in one night!"

"Oh yeah, convince you. All I said was 'hey let's watch the third one too' and you fucking said yes! Real conniving of me. Just get your stuff and go. I'll be right behind you with coffee and food."

"Thanks, bye." Minghao said, running out the door.

You were walking around the grocery store when Mei called you later that day.

"You'll never believe what your son did today." You said as soon as you picked up

"Well hello to you too dear. What'd my boy do today?"

"Woke up late and then started banging on kitchen cabinets until I woke up because he knew if I was up I'd get his food and coffee and he wouldn't be late!"

“That...sounds exactly like something he would do.” Mei laughed.

“He’s so frustrating and irritating I swear to god.” you told her.

"Yes but you handle it so well" Mei told you, laughing on the other line.

"Some days are easier than others.Also, sorry for the sudden influx of shit talking about your son. What's up?" You asked realizing that she called you first.

"Not much. I was just checking on you, see how you're feeling."

"You've been gone less than 24 hours" you reminded her.

"And? I've been worried since I stepped out of the house. I know you're internalizing and you're worried. I just...want you to be happy."

"I actually am not internalizing as much as you think. While I didn't open up about Shownu, I did talk to Minghao about some of the stuff you and I have been discussing."

"That's a start dear. I will always be here for you, but Minghao is closer to you and will always be on your side in these struggles against yourself. He may be a shithead at times, but he is a person you won't regret having in your corner."

"I know, it's just hard. But I'm getting there. More than that, I want to get there. I've been thinking a lot and I know I can open myself up to the guys, I just have to do it."

"Speaking of guys. Have you thought of what you were going to say to Shownu yet?" Mei asked.

"Yes? Ugh, I don't know. I'm an awkward bean and don't know how to have those conversations." You admitted.

"Sweetie, you have the conversation with him that you'd have with anyone else. Before anything he's a friend and you talk to him like such."

"Why is it when you say it... it's easy. But when I think about it I feel like I'm standing in front of a crowd naked."

"While I don't recommend having the conversation sans clothes, if that'll help then maybe you should."

"What the hell Mei!"

You went home that afternoon and after putting groceries away, text Shownu.

You knew if you called him, you'd avoid hanging out if he asked.

You sent a simple text asking if he was free and then put your phone face down.

"Maybe if I can't see it, I won't have to respond." You told yourself.

However, Shownu responded immediately. Your phone pinging loudly in the quiet room.

"Damn...forgot about the sound." You said, picking your phone up lightly

Shownu was free, and invited you to stop by anytime.

Minghao chose that time to walk in the door.

"Hey, Ming?" You asked as soon as he was in the house.

"What's up?" He asked, setting his keys down on the table.

"Do you think five minutes is enough time to have decided to flee the country and change your name?"

"I mean that's a tough question." Minghao responded. "Is this a spontaneous decision or one that's been thought out and planned thoroughly?"

"Spontaneous?"

"Then obviously fucking not."

"Well damn, you didn't have to come at my throat like that."

"What are you fleeing the country for?" Minghao asked.

"An awkward conversation about an awkward situation with an awkward me." You whined.

"That's...a lot of information while not saying a lot. Anything I can help with?"

"While I appreciate that...I think I need to have the conversation with them first and then cry about it later." You told him.

"Cry? Is it bad?" Minghao asked, worried about your words.

"No Minghao, it's fucking awkward!"

"I officially never want to hear that word again."

You said goodbye to Minghao later, telling him not to wait up for you. You'd either have a good conversation that could take a while, or you'd embarrass yourself and drink yourself stupid. Either were viable options at this point.

You spent the drive to shownu's thinking about the best route to take when bringing up the conversation. Did you do it as an indirect conversation? Or just bluntly come out and say it?

By the time you were knocking on his apartment door, the option of fleeing seemed more and more interesting.

As soon as he opened the door, and you opened your mouth, you really were ready for the world to swallow you whole.

"So…like… You don't want to be my boyfriend huh?"

As you sat on the couch in the living room, you were trying to think of how to make things less awkward.

“Sorry I didn't mean to just throw that out there the second I saw your face.” you admitted, unable to look at him.

“That's okay I'm just a little confused is all.” Shownu said lightly.

“Of all the things I rehearsed to say, I can promise you that exact sentence had never crossed my mind.:

“Rehearsed to say? We can just have a conversation, if you're comfortable with it that is.” Shownu said, noticing how uncomfortable you seemed to be.

“I was just really confused, still am I guess. We've been out together a couple times and I wasn't really sure where we stood since neither of us have ever really acknowledged it.”

“In my opinion, that's a sign right there.” Shownu responded.

“Sign of what?” you asked, not really sure what Shownu had meant.

“That a relationship isn't really in the cards for us.”

“Oh, right.” you said, not sure how else to respond to that.

“Are you disappointed by me saying that?” Shownu asked.

You looked up at him, surprised.

“Honestly, no.” you said. You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders by your admission.

“I like hanging out with you and listening to you run your mouth, but...I just...never started developing feelings.”

“I like hanging out with you too, it’s too quiet for my liking sometimes, but it’s still fun. Should...should we give it more time? I mean it’s only been a few dates.” You said. As soon as the words were out of your mouth you wanted to slap yourself.

“No. I don’t think we should. I agree with you, that maybe it’s not been enough time. However, I just don’t see things progressing that way. Also, I can just tell you’re not really into the idea of dating.”

That was the most surprising thing Shownu had said since the start of the conversation.

“What? I’m definitely into the idea of dating.” you said, unsure of his reasoning.

“Okay, maybe you’re right. But you’re not into the idea of dating me. I think you’re really fun to hang out with, I can see why Jooheon and Kihyun enjoy your company so much, but I think..for the both of us, that’s all there is. It’s just not going to work out any other way.”

Instead of feeling more clarity as the conversation went on, you were left feeling more confused by it.

“I guess I don’t really follow.” you admitted.

“I could tell from the first date that your head wasn’t really in the moment. And that’s okay. I got to meet you and start to get to know you. While that’s the basis of dating, it’s also the starting point for friendships. I would really like to continue being your friend.”

“I would like that too. Why do I feel so weirdly hurt right now?” You asked him. This is how you knew the conversation should go, but your heart felt heavy in that moment.

“I’m not sure, but I feel it too. I think it’s probably the feeling of being rejected. Which is weird because we didn’t really reject each other. Just...agreed to leave it as it is.”

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked him, suddenly remembering Seokmin’s words from New Years Eve.

“Sure.”

“Am I exhausting?”

“Yes. But also no. You seem exhausting to me but that’s because up til recently my life has been relatively quiet and slow paced. Then I met Kihyun and then you and Jooheon. But that’s not a negative thing by any means. You seem to thrive in chaos and like it when things are fast paced. That’s a good trait to have because you don’t get overwhelmed as fast as other people do. You know where you thrive best?” Shownu asked.

You looked up at him, waiting for him to answer. You were too lost in thought to voice any words right now.

“You thrive best when you’re at home.”

{thirty six}

[calwrites]

The Illusion (pt 4)

Summary: The BAU is officially on the case, the outcome of which will probably decide the reader’s future with the FBI. The reader begins to realize that there’s more going on with this case than she thought and she can’t share with her team just yet.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x UA!Reader

Warnings: Umbrella Academy spoilers

Word count: 6.4k

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

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you entered the department store. Already, local officers were wandering around contaminating the crime scene. You had hoped that your team would beat you here, so you wouldn’t have to order the locals around. It always made you feel a little weird, especially when no one else from your team was at the scene.

After setting up a room at the station for your team, Hotch had called and told you to head over to the department store, where Morgan and Prentiss would meet you. You had a feeling that he was trying to stay away from you. You had questions about why you had gone from desk duty to being required to be in the field in less than 24 hours. Chances are Hotch didn’t have any answers, but he would have ideas. Ideas that it seemed he didn’t want to share with you.

“All right,” you called, making sure that you could be heard easily over all of the low chatter. Immediately, curious eyes were on you, wondering who the new woman was. You made yourself continue standing tall under their gaze. Luckily, you hadn’t changed since leaving Quantico, so you were still dressed professionally. Unfortunately, you hadn’t changed since leaving Quantico over 12 hours ago, and you probably looked a little worse for the wear. “I’m Agent Y/L/N with the FBI. Crime scene techs can keep taking pictures, but I need everyone else to get out. Carefully, please, so we don’t contaminate the crime scene any more.”

You could see some officers muttering amongst themselves. They were being a little slow to follow your orders. It was pushback that you were used to getting. Local officers often didn’t love the FBI showing up and telling them how to do their job. But it just so happened that in some cases they were doing their job wrong.

You were about to repeat your order when a loud voice behind you yelled, “You heard the agent. Get to it and get out.”

You allowed yourself a small smile as you turned to find Derek and Emily walking into the store. It was possibly that you had never been so relieved to hear Derek yelling before.

“You know, if you were going to drag us back here, you could have at least warned us. Imagine how much time we could have saved if we weren’t flying back and forth.” You rolled your eyes at Derek’s teasing, but a weight lifted off your chest at his words. At least for now, Derek was going to act like everything was normal. And if Derek was willing to ignore the whole super hero thing, chances were everyone else was too.

“Hey, I had no part in picking this case.”

“Oh, so you didn’t give the detective Hotch’s card and tell her to call if she wanted out help?” The heavy sarcasm in Emily’s voice made you grin, but you didn’t get a chance to answer before Detective Patch approached your group. She quickly shook hands with Derek and Emily.

“Detective Patch. Was all of that really necessary?”

“All of what?” Emily asked carefully. While it was usual to get some resistance from most of the local officers, the person who called the team in to help was usually pretty helpful, if not friendly. You weren’t surprised by Patch’s less than friendly demeanor. She struck you as a person who liked doing her job well on her own.

“That little display of power.” She gestured to the now mostly empty department store. Crime scene techs were still taking pictures, but the rest of the officers had cleared out.

“Detective, that was to make sure that no crucial piece of evidence gets destroyed because too many officers are stumbling around the crime scene.” Morgan raised his brows at Patch as he spoke. “We don’t play power games with officers that we’re supposed to be working with. We hope your guys will do the same. So, what do we have here?”

“Got a report of shots fired. So far, we don’t have anyone who’s seen anything. I’m not sure if this is even connected to the donut shop shootings, but I figured I’d check it out.”

“You were at another crime scene when you got the report of the shot here, right?” Patch shot you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. You could tell she was dying to ask why you were here.

“Yeah. I went by to question the tow truck driver from the donut shop, but he was dead when I got there.” For a moment, Patch looked tired and maybe a bit frazzled. This case was turning into more and more of a mystery. It was already stranger than most cases in the city were.

“Rossi and Reid are heading to that scene,” Derek told you. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the mention of Reid’s name. You had to focus on the crime scene in front of you.

“I guess you should have listened to me earlier.” You and Patch both rolled your eyes at the voice coming from a few rows over. Derek and Emily, on the other hand, were immediately alert, quickly following the voice. Diego knelt on the ground, inspecting a bullet. Derek and Emily both looked over his leather outfit critically.

“I’m sorry. You are?”

Diego looked up at Derek. “You don’t recognize me? You crashed my father’s memorial. Got to see a pretty good show. I would’ve thought it’d be hard to forget.”

“But what are you doing here?”

“And do you seriously still not understand the chain of custody? If you touch it, I can’t use it.”

“Let me save you some time running ballistics,” Diego started like Morgan and Patch hadn’t said anything. “These nine millimeters haven’t been manufactured since-”

“1963. Odd. I know.” You tried not to smile at the exasperation in Patch’s voice, but it was nice finally having someone else be more over Diego than you usually were.

“They match the casings at the other scene?” Morgan asked. He took the bullet from Diego. “And, unless you’re a detective, you need to get out of here.”

“Y/N said I could be a consultant.” You started shaking your head before Diego had even finished his sentence. He tried to sling his arm around your shoulders, but you promptly pushed him away.

“I never said that.”

Diego ignored you. “What other scene?” He looked at Patch for the answer, most likely figuring that she was more likely to give him information than Morgan or Prentiss were.

“Ishmael’s Towing. The driver from the donut shop. I found him hanging from the ceiling.” Patch sighed. “I guess he must have known something after all.”

“Told you.” Diego sang.

Patch turned to look at your teammates. “There are other agents there, right?”

“That’s right. Between Rossi and Reid, hopefully they can find something useful.”

“I’m sure by now Pretty Boy has already read through any and all paperwork there. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he kept detailed accounts. Maybe a planner.”

“How did they get stuck going there?”  You tried hard to keep your voice level. “I can’t imagine Rossi would be happy going to a garage when it smells like burnt flesh.”

Derek laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Well it wasn’t his idea. He and Reid were supposed to meet you here, but Reid kept telling Prentiss and I that it wouldn’t be so bad at the garage. Smell is the weakest sense, so we’d be able to ignore the scent after a few minutes. Hotch told him that if that was true, then surely Reid wouldn’t mind going to the garage.”

“Poor Rossi.” You could imagine the scene perfectly in your head. Reid probably thought he was being encouraging. You were sure Rossi wasn’t very happy with him.

“Poor Reid. The kid looked like Hotch had taken away his puppy.”

“I think he wanted to see you.” You narrowed your eyes at Derek’s teasing, but you could feel your cheeks heating up. Luckily, Patch saved you.

“In the span of 24 hours, I’ve had attacks in three different places across town. Whoever this is, they’re not slowing down. That’s why I asked for the BAU’s help.” She paused, clenching her jaw slightly before turning to Diego. “And that’s why I’m also going to ask for your help, Diego. If you actually give a shit, and you have any fresh ideas.”

“What about the guy’s kid? From the donut shop?” Suddenly, Diego’s bravado was gone. The cocky smirk was replaced by a seriousness you hadn’t seen since you were seventeen. That’s how it had always gone. The second the mission was on, Diego stopped playing around.

“We have our technical analyst looking into extended family. Once they’re found, we’ll question them and, in case anyone goes after them, we’ll give them some protection,” Prentiss answered.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t already called. Something like finding children should be easy for Garcia. Plus, she’s always looking for an excuse to talk to the Derek Morgan.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Y/N. I am going to call her though. Make sure she hasn’t found something, and Hotch just didn’t tell us yet.” Derek took out his phone and stepped a few feet away. You could see both Patch and Diego raise a brow at the flirtatious way Morgan spoke, but you ignored it. 

Instead, you took a careful look around the room. “They really didn’t care whether or not they trashed this place, did they?” 

Prentiss huffed in agreement. “Any security footage?”

“Nothing from in here. Outside cameras caught two shooters fleeing. Get this, they were wearing some creepy kids masks.”

“This town really is going to shit,” Diego sighed.

“Coming from the guy dressed in spandex.” Prentiss’s eyes once again looked critically over Diego’s outfit.

“It’s leather.”

“And don’t act like you didn’t wear an outfit like that in high school. I’ve seen your yearbook pictures, Prentiss.”

“All right. You guys go fill out your forms. I’m going to go catch these animals.” Diego paused as he walked to the doors, turning to look at Patch. “And Eudora, I do give a shit.”

“Let’s hope he does,” Emily mutters as Patch leaves you two. “If your brother does something to screw up this case, the brass are going to be all over you.”

You sighed, nodding slightly. You had figured as much. It would be best for you if this case was solved quickly and quietly.

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

You chewed your lip thoughtfully as you studied the crime scene pictures stuck to the board. The room that your team had been given at the police station was empty currently. Hotch and JJ were dealing with the press. Rossi and Reid were heading back from the garage where the tow truck driver had been found. Derek and Emily had gone to the medical examiner’s office to see the body of the tow truck driver. Based on the pictures in front of you, that wasn’t going to be a pleasant sight.

It was clear that the man had been tortured. He had severe cuts and bruising. Not to mention the electrocution. Placing the clamps on the man’s nipple to electrocute him was an...interesting choice the unsubs had made. 

You glanced outside into the bullpen to see Hotch and JJ talking to Patch and the other detective working the case. Beeman, you thought his name was. He was much more receptive to you than Patch was. It wasn’t that she was hostile, per say. It was more that you could tell that every time she looked at you, you could tell that she was assuming that you were going to behave just like Diego. You had kept yourself busy in the small room by looking over all of the information so that you didn’t have to talk to her.

As you watched, Rossi and Reid walked into the bullpen, making their way over to Hotch. After a few words, Reid looked up sharply in your direction. You looked away immediately when he caught your eye through the glass, feeling like a kid who got caught staring at their crush as your cheeks heated up.

You didn’t look up from your papers when the door opened, but you could tell that it was Spencer who sank into the seat next to you.

“So I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted to...I mean it might be a good idea if we, maybe-” The softness of Spencer’s voice pulled the corners of your mouth into a small smile. You looked up at him, watching how his hands moved as he continued to ramble nervously.

“Spencer, do you want to talk later today? About what happened yesterday?” Spencer looked at you gratefully and nodded.

“What happened yesterday?” The tone of Rossi’s voice made it obvious that he had his own suspicions. He, Hotch, and JJ took their own seats around the table. Hotch, of course, was pretending he hadn’t heard anything. JJ and Rossi, on the other hand, both wore victorious smiles. On many occasions, both of them had encouraged you to ask Spencer out.

“Garcia called when we were on our way back from the ME’s office.” For the second time that day, you thanked the timing of Derek Morgan. He and Prentiss walked into the room and took the last two chairs. “The bullets from the department store definitely match the bullets from the garage.”

“But not the bullets from the donut shop?” Rossi asked.

“No. All of the bullets found at the donut shop match guns found at the scene.” Hotch checked his notes. “Did Garcia run the prints found on the knife?”

“Yep. They don’t match the driver’s prints. And she ran them through all of our databases. The only match is the cold case that local PD told us about.”

Hotch looked at Prentiss for a moment, going over her words. “Tell her to run them again.”

“She already did. Multiple times. She said that she could try to get access to some international databases if we wanted her to check those.”

“That won’t be necessary for now.”

“Hotch, you should also know that Garcia said she can’t find any records of the driver having kids. He’s married. Wife lives in town. No kids though.”

Hotch nodded, but you could tell by the way his eyes shifted that he was stumped by this. “Might not have been his child. Maybe the child of a family friend. Morgan, you and Prentiss go interview the wife after we’re done here. Try to find out who the child is and whether her husband might have had any enemies.”

Your team was quiet for a few seconds. The case didn’t make much sense yet. You were still missing a few pieces. Hopefully, you could start figuring out the puzzle before more people died.

“Say the driver was the target,” Rossi began slowly, thinking off the top of his head. “Whoever’s after him sends a bunch of local goons to the donut shop. He manages to get away, but they find him at his garage. Then they torture him for information.”

“They probably killed him after he gave them the information they needed.” Derek threw his pen down onto the table. 

“Or after they realized he didn’t have the information they needed.” Your team looked at you in confusion. “The woman working at the donut shop said she heard the tow truck drive off before the shooting started.”

“She could have been misremembering.” You nodded slightly at Derek’s suggestion, but you didn’t agree. 

“Someone should head over there to interview her after this.”

“I’ll go,” you volunteered quickly after Hotch spoke. He hesitated a second too long before nodding. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but a room full of profilers definitely did. He didn’t want you out in the field. But was it because he didn’t trust you or was there another reason?

“Take Rossi.”

“Actually, Hotch, I was hoping to look over the file for the cold case. JJ and I were wondering if there might be anything in there that’s similar to this case.” Hotch missed the quick look of confusion that JJ shot at Rossi, who cut his eyes between you and Reid in response.

JJ’s brows raised in realization. “Yeah, we were hoping some fresh eyes might shed some light on the case.”

“Fine.” Hotch looked between you and Reid. You tried not to shift your body language in any way that might make him suggest something was going on between the two of you, but you immediately started overthinking it. Did you always sit so much closer to Reid than you did to whoever was on your other side? Was your head usually turned ever so slightly to face him more. “Reid, you go with Y/L/N.” Hotch turned his serious gaze to you. “Why do you think they weren’t after the driver?”

“Well, say the woman at the donut shop is misremembering when the car drove off, it still doesn’t make sense. Looking at the pictures of the driver, I wouldn’t think he would be able to fight off all of those men by himself. Were any of the wounds on the body gunshots?”

Derek shook his head. “No. The ME said there were no gunshot wounds. All of the wounds were made well after the attack at the donut shop.”

“And you’re right,” Emily said slowly. “There’s no way the driver could have overpowered all of those men.”

“So when the driver left there must have been someone else in there. Whoever that is was skilled enough to take out all of those guys. I doubt he did it without injuring himself though. Garcia should check hospitals for any gunshot wounds after the attack.”

“So then why torture the driver?”

“Maybe…” You were distracted from Prentiss’s question by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You dug it out quickly, but declined the call when you saw it was Allison. It was the third time she had called since you got to the station. You had sent her a quick text telling her you were busy, but apparently she didn’t care.

“Everything okay, Y/L/N?” You nodded quickly to Hotch, pocketing your phone once more.

“Fine.” You sighed as you thought over the situation quickly. “Maybe whoever killed the driver didn’t know that he wasn’t the target.”

“What do you mean?” Rossi asked, leaning back and steepling his fingers as he studied you.

“What if whoever killed the driver just assumed that he was the target? What if this is some sort of organized crime? Whoever is in charge hired some local goons to kill the target at the donut shop, but he kills them all and gets away. So they send in two new people, who are maybe the next tier up. All these people know is that the target was at the donut shop, but got away.”

“So they assume it was the tow truck driver, and then torture him for whatever information they’re after.”

You nodded at Morgan. “But then they realize that he’s not the target, so they kill him. I bet whoever they’re after was at the department store, but got away again.”

“There’s only video of two people leaving the store, though. Looks like a man and a woman.” Prentiss frowned at the picture in front of her. “And what’s with the weird masks?”

“Maybe the target knew another way out. The security system at the store wasn’t exactly top notch,” Rossi suggested.

“Do the masks mean anything to you, Y/L/N?” You looked up at Hotch in surprise. “Are they local mascots? Characters from a local business? Something like that?”

“I don’t recognize them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t mean something to the community. They could still be from a pizza place or a school. It’s not like I got to spend a lot of time at either of those places.”

For a second, it was like the wind had been sucked from the room. Everyone sat still, once again aware of how different your upbringing was. As your team had gotten into the groove of trying to work out his case, any of the remaining awkwardness had started to dissipate. Now, it was back in full force.

“We can ask local PD if they recognize the masks,” Rossi suggested after a second of silence.

“You know it’s common for children to be scared of people in masks. While most kids grow out of it with time, many adults are naturally unsettled when faced with strangers in masks. It’s one of the reasons so many horror movies feature villains wearing masks.”

“Good to know, Reid,” Derek muttered.

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

The bell rang clearly through the empty store as you and Spencer entered. The mess from the attack was gone, but the store was still devoid of customers. The door to the back swung open and an older woman came out.

“Hello,” she greeted cheerfully. “What can I get for you two?”

“We’re actually with the FBI.” The woman’s face fell as you and Spencer both flashed your badges. “I’m Doctor Reid and this is Agent Y/L/N.”

“You two are here to ask about the attack the other night.”

“We are.”

“I’ve already gone over it with both of the detectives. Do I really need to go through all of this again?”

“We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” you answered gently. “We’re trained to see things differently than local detectives. It would help us greatly if we could ask you some questions.” You could see that the woman was still unsure, so you put on your best smile and hopped on one of the stools. “And since we’re already here, we’ll go ahead and take two monster donuts.”

The woman’s eyes lit up as she looked over you once again. “You must be from around here. You didn’t even have to look at the menu to know that the monster donuts are the best donuts. Let me go grab your donuts and then we can talk.” With another smile, she disappeared into the back again.

“What exactly is a monster donut?” Spencer slowly sat on the stool next to you.

“When they mess up a donut, they decorate it to look like a monster instead of throwing it away.”

“So we’re paying for the misshapen donuts that no one would buy without a gimmick?”

“No.” You smiled sweetly at Spencer, watching in delight as his cheeks reddened. “You’re paying for the misshapen donuts. After all, the guy is supposed to pay for the first date.”

Spencer grinned at your teasing. “So this is a date? Here I thought we were on the clock.”

“We can multitask.” You took Spencer’s hand in yours, squeezing it slightly. The back door swung open again and you two sprang apart.

“Here we go. By the way, my name is Agnes.” She placed a plate in front of each of you. Grinning, you inspected the donuts.

“Oh I got Frankenstein. You know, my brother used to beg for a Frankenstein one whenever we came here. Lucky you, Reid. The vampires were always my favorite.”

“We can trade if you want.” You started shaking your head, but Spencer was already switching your plates. You tried to frown at him, but couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from turning up.

Agnes’s eyes flicked between the two of you. “Well aren’t you two a lovely couple.” You and Spencer both sat up straighter, leaning away from each other slightly. This was still work. You couldn’t afford to do anything unprofessional right now. Spencer muttered something about not being a couple, but Agnes didn’t seem convinced.

“So can you take us through what happened that night?” Spencer seemed relieved that you interrupted his ramblings. He took a big bite of Frankenstein’s head as Agnes began to talk.

“It was a pretty slow night. Only the one man and his son. The man ordered an eclair. His son got coffee.”

“Decaf?” Spencer asked through another bite of the donut. Anges shook her head. “How old would you say the son was?”

“About 13, I’d guess. He seemed so serious though. Very mature for his age. He was wearing a school uniform, but not one that I recognized. I don’t see many private school kids in here. I remember thinking that they looked like an odd pair.”

“Odd how?”

“Well the boy looked perfectly put together. The man, on the other hand, looked a little dirty. Not that there’s anything wrong with getting a little dirty while you’re working. Heaven knows that I can work up a sweat making donuts all day.”

“All right, so you give the two of them the eclair and coffee. Then what do you do?”

“I went into the back to start getting ready to close. I figured I might as well call it a night once those two left. While I was back there, I heard a car start up outside. I looked out the window and saw the tow truck driving away. Then people started shooting. I hid under the desk until I thought it was safe to come out.”

“How much time would you say passed between when the truck drove away and the shooting started.”

“Oh not long. Less than a minute.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You dug it out, ready to decline another call from Allison, but instead you were greeted with a text from Prentiss. Spencer met your eyes, waiting for you to talk.

“They’ve talked with the widow. The driver didn’t have any kids.” 

Just then, Spencer’s phone started ringing. “It’s Hotch. I’ll be right back.” You watched as Spencer quickly exited the donut shop before turning back to Agnes.

“That boy was not the driver’s son. Did you see him leave with the driver?” Agnes shook her head. “Can you describe him for me?”

“Dark hair. Maybe lighter eyes. I didn’t really look very closely to be honest. Very serious demeanor.” You nodded slightly and began to get up from your seat. It was unlikely that you would get anything else useful. Still, it had been nice to have another Griddy’s donut, you thought as you popped your last bit into your mouth. “Oh wait. There was something else. He had a tattoo on his wrist.”

Your blood ran cold. You looked at Agnes, trying to control your facial expression. “A tattoo?”

“Yes. It was an umbrella. I remember thinking it was strange that someone so young would have a tattoo. Is that helpful?”

Without thinking, you pushed yourself into her head. It was easy to find the memory of that night. And sitting there, at the corner of the bar, was Five. Blinking quickly, you exited her head as quickly as you had entered it.

Well it definitely made your life more difficult. “Yes. Thank you, ma’am. And thank you for the donuts. They were delicious.” You dropped some cash onto the counter and walked back outside.

“Did she have anything useful?” Spencer asked as you approached the SUV.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat. “Nothing she hadn’t already told Patch. What did Hotch want?”

“He wants us back at the station to start working on a geographic profile for the potential target. He thinks that if we can find the target, we’ll be able to find the unsubs.”

You nodded slightly before sliding into the driver’s seat. Without any hesitation, you began making your way back to the police station. 

Another car pulls into the parking lot as you’re pulling out. “At least she has some more customers coming,” you say, trying to ignore Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat. Finally, you glanced over, eyebrows raised in question.

“Sorry. It’s just a little weird seeing you here. I mean, it makes sense that you would be familiar with the city since you grew up here, but you didn’t need directions to the donut shop even though we ran into construction. It’s like you know the city off the back of your hand.”

“I do. We had to memorize the layout of the city as kids. We had to be able to come up with the quickest routes between any two points.”

“Oh. And here I thought I was weird for learning classical literature and theoretical physics as a kid.”

“We had to do that too.” Spencer didn’t respond. Instead, he looked through the window as you continued to drive. For a second, you almost looked into his head to see what he was thinking. It was almost second nature, like it had been in the donut shop.

You had to stop whatever was going on with you. It had been a mistake to come back to the city. It had been a mistake to agree to work on this case. You were regressing too much. Wanting to look in everyone’s head just because it would make your life easier. Putting your siblings above all else. You had just lied to Spencer for crying out loud. You should have told him about the tattoo. You should tell your team that Five was at the diner. That he’s probably the target.

But you can’t. You won’t. At least not yet. You have to talk to Five first. Because as much as you hate to admit it, saving the world is probably more important than solving this case. Even if that means you might lose your job.

All of this is running through your head as you pull up at the police station. Your phone buzzes again as you enter the bullpen. “You go ahead, Spence. I need to take this.” Spencer hesitates slightly, but you urge him on with a small smile. You accept the call. “What, Allison?”

“Y/N finally! Where are you?”

“Where am I? I’m at work. Now why do you keep calling me?”

“You have to come home. We’re having a family meeting.”

You run a rand through your hair, trying not to snap in the middle of the bullpen. “Allison, I am working. I can’t go back to the house right now. I’ll probably be by later, once we’re done for the night. I don’t even know if the team got me a hotel room, so I might be sleeping at the house.”

“Y/N, you have to come now. It’s about Mom.”

“About Mom?” you repeat. “Look, whatever it is, I’m sure she’s fine. Let her recharge or ask Pogo about it. I’m busy, so please stop calling. We’ll talk later.”

“Please, Y/N. Diego should be on his way to the police station. Just go with him so we can all talk about this.”

“Diego should be-” You turn sharply to look at the room your team is set up in. Sure enough, Diego is in there, gesturing wildly while Patch seemingly tries to get him out. You hand up on Allison, stuff your phone back in your pocket, and stomp over.

“Y/N, there you are,” Diego says when you walk in. The rest of your team takes in your stoic face and clenched fists without a comment. They know you’re pissed and they know better than to mess with you. “Come on. We need to go home.”

Diego tries to take your arm, but you grab his wrist before he can. “No, Diego, you need to go home. And you need to tell Allison to stop calling me. Because I don’t care about what she and Luther have to say.” Diego tried to get his wrist back as you dragged him out of the room, but to no avail.

“It’s about Mom. It’s serious.”

“I think whatever is going on with Mom can wait until later. She’s a robot. Now, leave me alone. I’m working on the case. You know, the one you’re supposed to be giving a shit about.”

Finally, you let go of Diego’s wrist. He looks at you for a minute and you wonder whether he’s going to try to pick you up and carry you back home. Instead, he shakes his head. “Fine. But if we make a decision that you don’t like, you can’t complain.”

“Ok fine. Goodbye, Diego.” You watch as he stalks out of the police station. You groan into your hands before turning back to the room. Cases were so much easier before your family was involved.

Without looking at anyone, you drop into a seat in between Morgan and JJ. It’s quiet for a moment before Hotch speaks. “Is everything okay, Y/L/N?”

“Everything’s fine.” You push yourself up to look at your boss. “Sorry about him. Diego has no boundaries, professional or personal. He’s also just a general pain in the ass.” If you aren’t mistaken, there’s the littlest movement of Hotch’s mouth. It’s probably the most you’ve ever been able to make him smile.

“So I know that we should pretend like we didn’t hear that, but did you say that your mom is a robot?” You turn to JJ, who’s trying not to smile. However, she can’t help herself when you nod, grinning back at her. “Ok, once this case is over I’m going to need to know more about that.”

“Until then, let’s go over what we just learned.” You sat up straighter, giving Hotch all of your attention. There’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, reminding you that you have important information. You just need to talk to Five first.

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

“All right, everyone, let’s stop for the night. We’ll go back to the hotel, then come back fresh tomorrow.” Everyone groaned in relief as they began to gather their things to leave the station. You stood slowly, cracking your neck as you did. Next to you, Reid was doing the same thing. The two of you had been hunched over a map for most of the evening, trying to work out the geographical profile of the unsub’s target. It was easy to make yourself forget that it was Five you were profiling, though your breath caught every time you saw your house or the eyeball factory on the map. You just hoped that Spencer bought it every time you turned it into a yawn.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether you should follow them out to the SUVs or take your family’s car, which had been sitting at the station all day, back to the house. Spencer paused at the doorway, looking back at you, which caused Hotch to turn back too.

“Oh, Y/N, we couldn’t get you a room when we checked in. You can come with us to the hotel and try for yourself. Or I guess someone might be willing to share.” Spencer opened his mouth, most likely to volunteer his room. The two of you had shared rooms before when the local hotels didn’t have enough rooms for everyone to have their own, but you weren’t sure if it would be weird now that you two were kind of a thing.

“I’ll just go back to the house. My sister has been calling me all day, and I told her I’d be back tonight.” Right on cue, your phone started buzzing. “Speak of the devil,” you muttered as you answered your phone. “Hey, Allison, I was just-”

“Y/N, you have to get back quick. We were just attacked.”

“You were just attacked?” Your voice rose in alarm, drawing the attention of your team. They quickly returned to the room, watching you with concern. “What do you mean you were attacked? What happened?”

“We had a family meeting earlier and then afterwards some freaks in masks showed up and started shooting up the house.”

“Masks? Like creepy animal masks?” Your team’s eyes widened. They quickly began putting their stuff back down. It looked like it would be a longer night than any of you anticipated.

“Yeah some woman in a pink mask and a man in a blue one. We managed to fight them off.”

“Who’s ‘we’? Is everyone okay?”

“Me, Luther, Diego, and Vanya.”

You made a face before you could stop yourself. “You had a family meeting when half the team wasn’t there? But you included Vanya?”

Allison huffed on the other end of the line. “Yes, we included Vanya. Mom was her mom too. And you and Five wouldn’t come. Klaus was here for the meeting, but he’s gone.”

“He’s gone? Was he there when you were attacked?”

“No he probably left to go get high.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to let the matter of Klaus go. You’d know more once you got the house, you finally decided. You headed out the door, your team following close behind you. You stuttered for a moment as something Allison had said finally landed. “Did something happen to Mom?”

Your team glanced at you as everyone piled into the SUVs. Allison’s voice sounded small on the other end of the line. “What makes you say that?”

Answering a question with a question. She was deflecting. “Allison, what happened to Mom? You said that she was Vanya’s mom too. Past tense. She is our mom.” Your team was doing a good job acting like they weren’t listening, but you knew they noticed how your voice cracked with panic.

“They killed her. We don’t know what happened. We lost them for a few minutes.”

“They killed-they can’t have killed her. She’s a robot. No they can’t have just turned her off. It can’t just work like that.”

“It can, Y/N. And they did.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing the tears to stay back. “I’ll be there soon.” Without waiting for a reply, you ended the call. Your fingers moved restlessly as the drive continued, until Spencer took your hand in his. He gave you a comforting squeeze. Looking up at him, you managed a small smile before letting out a shaky breath. Whoever these masked freaks were, they were going to be sorry they had messed with your family. You would make sure of it.

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

taglist (if you’d like to be added or removed just let me know)

@perfectlysane24 @mcntsee @ofbooksandaesthetics @aprildwyer-ludgate @l0ve-0f-my-life @sarcasm-n-insomnia

[miss-tc-nova]

Mine Now - Noctis Lucis Caelum x Reader

It’s not exactly fluff and it’s not the Smarmy Fluffcoat I’ve been dying to work on, but I had to finish it. Even if it’s not perfect, I had some fun. Also, a couple bonus endings because I could. 

~~~~~

               I jump out of the car, eager to stretch my legs after the seemingly endless car ride. “Thank the gods!” I groan while stretching.

               “What are you complaining about?” Gladio teases. “You didn’t drive.”

               I put my hands on my hips and follow him towards the trunk. “Look, sitting in the back with two men that barely understand personal space gets cramped.”

               “I didn’t hear you complaining that time you used me as a pillow all the way to Cauthess.”

               “What can I say? Gotta adapt; when the men can’t do personal space, neither will I.” I grab a bag, sling it over my shoulder, and grab a couple chairs.

               Prompto slaps my shoulder. “Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep on Noctis? He’s got less muscle.”

               “Hey!” The offended man glares at the chocobo blonde.

               I giggle. “Noctis, let’s be honest; you’ve got muscle, but look at Gladio. His arm is as big around as my head. You definitely would’ve made a better pillow.” That doesn’t make him feel any better. “Plus, you won’t flex every five minutes to turn a damn page.”

               “Can’t be all muscle,” Gladio speaks up.

               Ignis butts in. “Well nobody is napping now. Let’s get moving. It’s going to take some time to get to the haven from here.”

               He was right; it took us three hours to get to the haven and the sun was long gone by the time we got there. Once camp is put together and we’re all set for the night, it’s time to relax, maybe play some King’s Knight. I pat my pockets. “Hey, anyone seen my phone.”

               “You mean this?” Noctis asks from his chair, displaying said phone above his head, clearly playing with my settings.

               “What are you doing?!”

               Noctis stands and smirks triumphantly. “You left it in the car. You’re lucky I swiped it before we left.”

               “Thanks for grabbing it, but why are you playing with my settings?”

               I reach for my cell but Noctis pulls it out of range. “You really should pay more attention.”

               “Says the man who slept through a bandersnatch attack,” I huff. “Now can I have my phone back?”

               A mischievous grin slips over his lips. “You can have it back if you can take it from me.”

               “So now we have a bully for a king?” I jump but he clearly expects to make a game out of this. “Noctis! Give me my phone!”

               He chuckles, easily holding said device above my head. “Come on. You can reach a griffin mid-flight; you can reach your phone.”

               “You want me to use my weapons?” I growl. “I will take you out by the shins! Don’t test me!”

               “Oh really? Show me what you got?” Reaching down, I grab his leg and jerk. Noctis effectively hits the ground. “Ow!”

               “I warned you. Now gimme my phone!”

               The man sits up, rubbing the back of his head. “I wanna say that was a cheap move but I asked for it…”

               I hold my hand out for my phone but he instead takes it to pull himself up. “Give it.” The man feigns giving it back, only to resume holding it over my head. “That’s it!”

               I lunge at the King, starting a skirmish that rolls around the campsite. Nobody draws weapons; it’s a simple quarrel over a phone so there’s not going to be any murder involved…Probably.

               My hand comes up, slapping Noctis’s and freeing the phone but I didn’t exactly think it through. The phone soars through the air and I’m pretty sure I’m about to have a useless cell phone. However, Noctis catches it before it can crack on the haven floor in a stroke of luck.

               “Phew,” he sighs. Relieved, he gives me a smile, my phone sparkles in his hand then disappears, and he jams his hands in his pockets. A second later, those cobalt eyes go wide. “Oh…shit.”

               Storming towards him, I grip his jacket. “What do you mean oh shit?!”

               Hands in the air, the King watches me like he does the dangerous fiends we come across. “I, uh, I may have just ruined your phone.”

               “WHAT?!” I change my mind: murder might be involved.

               “Well magic and electronics don’t…exactly…mesh together well. The magic tends to destroy electronics…like phones.”

               As the realization dawns on me, the anger rises. I start rattling the man. “YOU RUINED MY PHONE?!”

               “It was an accident!”

               “YOU LOST ALL MY INFORMATION AND CONTACTS!”

               “I’M SORRY!”

               I hold my hand out, silently demanding my device. Sheepishly, the King summons the stolen phone and slips it into my grasp. Turning away from him, I hold down the power button but I’m not even getting the dead battery signal, which is crap because I know there was at least 50% battery.

               “Rrrrgh!” I hurl the phone over his head and stalk towards the campsite.

               “Where are you going?!” Not answering, I snatch up his phone from the table. Immediately, Noctis starts for me. “Ah, hey! That’s mine!”

               I put some distance between us, holding the phone out of his reach. “Not anymore it’s not; you broke my phone so this is mine now.”

               His face erupts in a shade of red and it’s an interesting sight to see Noctis becoming so flustered. “No! It’s not! I’m sorry I broke your phone but you can’t have mine!”

               Ignis slips from the tent, looking over the minor chaos of me and Noctis. “What’s going on here?”

               Prompto glances up from his camera. “Noctis broke their phone so now they’re taking his.”

               I slap Noctis’s hand away from me. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you didn’t steal my phone and then sent it to your magical alternate dimension!”

               “Oh,” Ignis hums unbothered. Then his eyes widen. “…Oh!”

               There’s an interesting anxiousness on Noctis’s face. “Come on! Just give me my phone back!”

               “No. You broke mine and lost everything I had on it,” I retort.

               “Please! Give it back!”

               Rolling my eyes, I turn to walk away. A spoon clatters on the ground and I have only a split second to get the phone out of Noctis’s reach. “Excuse you!”

               “Give it back!”

               “No!”

               This turns into the second tussle of the night with the roles reversed. I may be shorter than the King but that doesn’t mean I can’t play my own game of keep away. It’s also in my favor that said man’s desperation works against him, making him far more straightforward and easier to read.

               Noctis reaches across me once again but, with my elbow against his chest, he can’t quite steal my stolen prize. I push back and the man stumbles back, foot catching on an uneven part of the haven’s stony floor and ending up on his ass.

               Grinning triumphantly, I press the home button and swipe to unlock. That’s certainly not what I expected to see after unlocking Noctis’s phone. I expected some picture of a video game scene or a picture of his friends or his fiancée; hell, I even expected a picture of a damn fish. But not this. Noctis’s wallpaper is a picture of us, me pulled against his side as we give peace signs, dirty and bruised, fresh off a hunt; but it’s us.

               Confused, I look back to Noctis who could possibly burst into flames at any moment. I show him the picture.

               “Why am I your wallpaper?” I swear I see smoke coming off him, but he doesn’t answer. “Noctis.”

               “Are you dumb, shorty?” laughs Gladio, closing his book, clearly more entertained by us. “Why else would he have you as his wallpaper?”

               It’s my turn to burn up while Noctis glares daggers.

               Ignis starts working on dinner from his make-shift cooking station. “Indeed. He’s not exactly subtle about it.”

               “Subtle enough they didn’t notice,” Prompto says. The blonde lifts his camera to snap a picture. Now I’m glaring too.

               “Are we sure they’re capable hunters?” Gladio points out.

               Ignis replies, “Just because they’re blindingly oblivious to each other’s feelings doesn’t make them terrible hunters.”

               Noctis and I, equally flushed, glance to each other. The fight’s over; I can’t even look at him without agitating the butterflies in my stomach. Turning away from him, I take a seat at the fire and fiddle with the phone, not even caring that I’m leveling up Noctis’s King’s Knight character instead of mine. Noctis retakes his seat, staring into the fire that masks how flustered he’d been.

               The night goes on far less rambunctious than it began. I’m not sure exactly what it is, perhaps those disturbed butterflies are far more addicting than I thought, but my gaze keeps trailing to Noctis. When I would’ve normally turned away to pretend I wasn’t, I just continue staring when caught. The corners of my mouth turn up and I get my confirmation of the butterflies—he returns the expression a bit bashfully.

               I can exactly say things will progress in a natural or expected way; he’s got Lunafreya after all and I shouldn’t get in the way of that. But I highly doubt I’ll turn him down if Noctis decides to make a move.

~~~~~ 

A Week Later…

               “Can I please have my phone back now?” groans the King,

               I shift in my chair, propping my feet up on his knees. “No. You’re not getting this phone back unless you get me a new one.”

               “But we don’t have any money.”

               I continue tapping away. “Sucks for you then.”

               Prompto leans closer. “If that’s your phone now, why haven’t you changed the wallpaper?”

               “Prompto!” I shout, the embarrassment rising. Getting only a glance at Noctis’s amused face, I launch myself over the back of my chair and chase down the photographer who’s now screaming ‘Sorry! I’m sorry!’ as he flees.

~~~~~ 

A Month Later…

               I pull the jingling device from my pocket. “Hello?”

               The person on the other end of the line hesitates. “Um…Yes, hello. This is Marshall Cor Leonis. I’m looking for Noctis.”

               I glance at said man. “Oh, sorry. But this isn’t his phone anymore.” Noctis frowns.

               “I see. Does he have a new phone number I could call?”

               “Nope. Sorry.”

               “Wait-”

               Before he can protest, I hang up and jam the phone back in my pocket. Not giving an explanation bothers Noctis enough for him to pester me.

               “What was that?”

               “Someone looking for you.”

               He waits expectantly, getting frustrated when I don’t give him more. “What did they want?”

               “He didn’t say. Was just looking for you. Then he asked if you had a new number but you don’t.”

               “Who was it?”

               “Some guy named Leonis.”

               His hands go to his hair dramatically. “You hung up on the Marshall?! Gimme the phone!”

               “No! It’s mine!” I step back defensively.

               “Just give it to me! I gotta call him back!”

               “It’s my phone now!”

               “Just let me call him!”

               “No!” I take off with Noctis chasing after me.

               In the distance, we hear Gladio yelling, “Get a room, you two!”

[xeo-kunsatan]

Beast Choices Chapter 3. Beast Blood

In the previous chapter...

Betrayus was reading a book about occultism but he noticed that Muriel haven't came back with the wood for the fireplace, he got Worried and left the cabin to look for her in the forest holding his flashlight.

Everything was dark and the singing of the owls were sounding around the forest.

Betrayus: M-Muriel!... Where are you?

Betrayus suddenly saw something strange in the woods.

Betrayus: Huh?...

???: Grrrrhh...

Betrayus: !!!!

Betrayus ran away from that place while the creature was chasing him but suddenly he tripped by a rock and fell down from a slightly short mountain leaving him unconscious for a moment.

After waking, he quickly get up but the creature was in front him, staring at him like a tasty prey.

Betrayus: *trembling* W-What are you?...*steps back*

???: Grrr

The creature ran to Betrayus but it suddenly stopped and recognized him like it had meet him before.

???: Betrayus...

Bradley: How do you know my name?..

???: Oh dang.. I am so sorry!..

Betrayus: W-wait... Muriel?.. is that y-y-you?

Muriel: Yes...*sighs* this is other thing.. I haven't told you before...

Betrayus: Muriel...

The moment was interrupted by a shot in the Air.

Hunter: it's a good night to hunt coyotes.

*shots a coyote which was walking by*

Muriel: Holy Shit!!... Ok.. Betrayus.. I know you are probably angry with me.. but... the most important thing to me is your safety.

Betrayus: What the-...

Muriel: *takes Betrayus in her arms and runs off*

Betrayus: OH FUUUCK!

Muriel started running away from the hunter taking a way to lost him so she can take Betrayus safely to the cabin.

Muriel: Damn it, he is getting closer!...

Betrayus: Don't stop Muriel, pls don't stop!

Muriel; I'm trying!..

Muriel makes her paws transform into cheetah paws making her run faster

Betrayus: Wow... You have a lot to explain me later Mury!..

Muriel: I'll do it later!.. I'll promise!.

Hunter: Do you think you can escape from me?

The Hunter manages to shot Muriel but fortunately it missed it leaving her a simple scratch.

Muriel: ARRGGHH!! *She stopped*

Betrayus: Muriel!!

Hunter: Wait.. is that another person!?..

Betrayus: You son of a Bitch *throws him a fire ball*

The Hunter started burning and yelling of pain.

Muriel:.. Tray Tray..

Betrayus: Yeaaah .. I also have another thing to tell you.. hehehe sorry..

Muriel: Dummy.

Muriel taked Betrayus and ran away from the scene to their cabin, when they where about to go to the cabin Muriel's left paw was trapped in a bear trap.

Muriel: AAAARGHH!!!

Betrayus: Muriel!.. oh no this is even worst..

Muriel:*sarcastic* you're helping me a lot...

Betrayus: Sorry sorry!... *Opens slowly the trap to flee her paw*

Muriel: ouch ouch.. this..*she transforms into her normal form to then faints*..

Betrayus: Muriel No!!...*sighs* well at least we are close to the cabin..

Betrayus covered a naked Muriel with a jacket he was wearing and carries her to take her to the cabin.

Betrayus: We are back Yuū... Uhhhh.?..

Yuū:*changes channel* °\\\\°

Betrayus:.......*leaves with Muriel*..

Betrayus have taked Muriel to the bathroom to bath her to attend and clean her wounds

Muriel: *wakes up* B-b-betrayus?

Betrayus: Mury!..*hugs her carefully to not hurt her*... You're awake, you had me so worried..

Muriel: *Sighs* I'm so sorry... That makes me act like an animal..

Betrayus: what's exactly "that"?

Muriel: I dunno how to call it.. Uhh Animal Metamorphosis?... Uhh Shapeshifter Beast?

Betrayus: How does it work?

Muriel: In general I can transform myself or some parts of my body to animal parts but just if I touched, watched and remembered so well certain animals of certain races, my principal transformation is the awful beast you saw before.

Betrayus: Honestly you were cute and Fluffy in that form.

Muriel:*chuckles* stop Jocking~

Betrayus: Seriously hehehe~, and what animals you can transform?.

Muriel: Well if I can remember, an Arctic Wolf, a Cheetah, a Polar bear, Emperor penguin, Arctic hare, Arctic Owl, Arctic Fox, Deer, octopus, and a Raccoon.

Betrayus: Wow, Mury your power is so awesome!

Muriel: Heh really?

Betrayus: Yeah!

Muriel: and what about you? You're in fire

Betrayus: Well it's nothing, I just can create fire, it was so difficult for me with this power and my family.

Muriel: Same old dude.

B&M: Always we had to find a place to practice for myself...!!! *Both Chuckled*

Betrayus: Hehehe Even in this we have in common

Muriel: Yeah, hehehe what a coincidence

Betrayus: Hahahah, a really sweet coincidence~...*kisses her neck*

Muriel: Ohh~ Tray Tray~

Betrayus:*Hugs her* Don't worry me like that Mury... Please.. you're so important for me

Muriel: i'll promise, you're important for me too..

Both started kissing and... Not gonna write this in this family friendly post heheh.

The Next Morning.

Betrayus: *yawn* Morning Mury~ *kisses her forehead*

Muriel: Hehe~... Morning my sunlight..*holds the letter from her Dad*

Betrayus: oh so you finally will read it?

Muriel: Yeah, after all this is years without seeing him nor even know anything of him, I miss him, and at having this letter and money means that he didn't wanted to hurt me and that he miss me.

Betrayus: I see, so what does the letter says?

Muriel: Well...*Starts reading*

"Muriel... I send this money for you

So you can keep yourself..

I really sorry for all the things I said to you.. how i treated you.. because of something that.. it actually wasn't your fault....

I was completely blind by the remorse and the pain by losing your mother, in all this time I figured out how stupid I was at treating one of your mother's Treasures she left for me... You and your Sisters.

It's too late, it's okay if you never forgive for that.. but all I want.. is that at least you're okay... I love you

And I will always love you.

-Marlos Plizetxki."

Some tears appeared from Muriel's eyes.

Betrayus: Mury!.. you're okay?

Muriel: *sniff*...*sighs* Yeah... It's an apology of him.... I can't be really mad at him, even when that doesn't justified the fact he treated me as a freak since my childhood, it's no use to have remorse against him.. that Grumpy Boomer.

Betrayus:*sighs* Mury *hugs her*

Muriel: even when I was treated as a shit, I make a plan to leave my house, I studied too hard to finally leave them with my basic studies finished... Also finding out what was my purpose..I used to help out my old classmates with their problems because that made me forget my problems.. that's how I found out my purpose.....you know why am I lucky?

Betrayus: for what.

Muriel: Because I meet you, my Number 1 patient *boops him*

Betrayus: Heheh Muriel.. I am lucky too at meeting you.... I love you Muriel~

Muriel: and I love you too~

Both kissed on lips but suddenly Betrayus Tickled her.

Muriel: H-Hey Hehehe stop.

Betrayus: What? You don't like it..

Muriel: No-oh *steps back*

Betrayus: ohohoh so you wanna play like that? I'm gonna Catch you!

Muriel: Nuu!! *runs off*

They started playing tag you're it.

The vacations have ended for them,

It was time to go home, Muriel and Betrayus packed up to then Roxy taked them to the airport.

It was time to say goodbye.

Muriel: that were the best vacations we had, even more having you as our guide.

Roxy: it was a honor, *gives them a paper with her number* in case you need me when you came here, I'll be there.

Betrayus: Roxy thank you for everything

Roxy: you're welcome, Mis amigos.

During the travel.

Muriel: I will miss that beautiful place..

Betrayus: Me too ....*fall asleeps on her*

Muriel: *smiles and cuddles with him as well to Sleep*

Betrayus and Muriel left PacMexico completely happy by their adventures to then return to Pacopolis.

How much this can evolve?

Nobody knows.. for now.

Extra

Muriel: Hey Tray Tray, can you turn on this fireplace?

Betrayus: Sure, *uses his fire to turn on the fireplace*

Muriel; Ohh~ much better, did anyone told you that your power is beautiful?

Betrayus: *sniff* You're the first person who says me that *hugs her* Hmm~

Muriel: Aww don't cry my pogchamp~

Betrayus: can you transform into a Rabbit?

Muriel: Sure *transforms into a Arctic Hare*

Betrayus:*holds her and scratches her ears* Awww you're so cute~

Muriel: Hmm~ please continue~ *Bunny Purr*

Yuū: hmp..*jealous*

[violetnotez]

Big Bro Dabi- (PLATONIC) Dabi x Reader

Anonymous: I saw request were opened and i wanted to request a dabi related one. It could be HC or a short story its all up to you, but what about the reader kinda of being a little sister to dabi? (Not by blood ) like she was a villain herself in the league and dabi and her get close and form a close brother sister bond, but after a mission shes left behind and captured by the heros what happens from there is up to you! But i always wanted to see how dabi would be in the role of a big bro

Omg anon this is such a cool idea I read this and I am completely in love with a big brother Dabi!!!

I broke this up into a mini fic, HC, and then the request is at the bottom (cause I may or may not have gone a little overboard with the idea *u*)

Also- this is a completely PLATONIC bother and sister relationship between y/n and Dabi, nothing romantic at all!

(RULES  | MASTERLIST| REQUESTS OPEN!!! :))

-----------

How You Met:

“Don't touch me!” the girl pleaded frantically, her hands and face covered in dirt and soot, her clothes tattered.

Dani stared at her terrified face, confusion riddled in his brows.

She didn’t look scared of him, no-she was scared of herself. Her arms were riddled with cuts and bruises from her quirk-she obviously didn’t have control over it.

A memory flitted into his body, making his body cringe from pain-he remembered when he couldn’t control his quirk, the effects of that permanently set into his skin.

He looked at the girl, empathy he hadn’t felt in a very long time filling his stomach. He crouched down, holding out a scarred hand.

The girl stared at him with shocked, tear stained eyes.

“Didn’t you listen to me?!?” you yelled, panic in your voice, “I said don’t touch me-I’m dangerous!”

“What’s so bad about being dangerous?” Dabi questioned, making you go silent.

“Your quirk isn’t a bad thing,” he continued, “it’s just powerful.”

He gave himself a small minute to think-if you could join the League and control that quirk of yours, you could be a good asset to the team. It was powerful, and even though you didnt have a handle on it right now, didnt mean you couldnt learn how to.

“Come with me,” he commanded gently, “I can help you-you won’t hurt yourself anymore.”

You kept staring at his hand, the purple skin becoming a blur in your tears.

“But I’ll hurt you.”

He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. 

“You won’t-you see how scarred my skin is? That’s because I couldn’t control my quirk either-the scarred skin doesn’t feel sensations all too well. But I learned though, and I'm fine.  And you will too-just take my hand. I promise you’ll be okay.”

You stared at his face, your chest heavily slightly with the comforting thought of being with someone who finally wanted to help you, and who understood what you were going through.

You slowly took his hand, allowing him to help you from the ground.

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

Big Brother Dabi HC

Nobody knew how overprotective Dabi would be

He’s very good at giving you space, but if he sees any man so much as glance at you

He is going to give them a glare that could kill

It probably can

Pray for the boys that try to flirt or ask you out

You will have to literally restrain Dabi because he will want to char them to a crisp

Is a total dick all the time

Like he will randomly snatch up your phone and hold it up because he is a GIANT and smirk at you as you try and get it back

Will scold you for using cuss words but will use them himself

Hates seeing you cry- he will let you cry in peace first and then come after with your fav food and will listen to what’s wrong

If somebody actually made you cry- Jesus Christ he will find them and hurt them so bad they will have to go to the ER

This man dont play around

You and Toga will most likely be super close like sisters and all three of you will be wrecking havoc

You and Toga have begged Dabi to let you two do his makeup 

Always tells you straight up “Hell no”

Doesn’t mean you won’t put it on his face when he sleeps right?

Almost burnt your face off when he woke up and found himself gliterry eyeliner and lipstick

Asks you for help when he dyes his hair and you have to get a step stool to reach his head

He is so TALLLLL

Is constantly forcing you to train 

He knows you hate it and he isn’t very fond of it either but it’s good bonding time

But he’s just terrified he’ll lose you in battle one day and he can’t even stand the idea of it

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

FIC: Getting Taken Hostage By the Heroes

“Holy shit-Dabi!” you gasped, pointing at the bodies coming towards you ,the sound of poilce sirens filling the air.

Dabi followed your outstretched finger, seeing why you were so worried- you two had been cornered in a matter of seconds.

“How the hell did they figure out our plan?” Dabi asked as you both broke out in a run, trying to get hidden in the trees of the forest you were currently in.

Shigaraki had split up the League earlier in order to get a better success of the mission- Him and Black Mist would be giving commands, while Toga and Twice actually went in to do the dirty work of the mission. All you and Dabi had to do was keep watch outside, something you both found insignificant and boring. But you didn't expect the police to show up, let alone the Heroes.

“How the hell- am I supposed to know?!” you panted, trying to keep up with Dabi’s pace. “We just need to get out-”

Footsteps were getting louder behind you, shouts of the Heroes trying to follow your path making your heart beat reverently against your rib cage. You didn't want to think about getting caught by the heroes- you knew they couldn't do anything to harm you, it was against their whole moral basis for their profession, but the thought of going on trial and dealing with not being free to do what you wanted made your spine shiver. You would never let somebody control your life- you’d rather die than do that.

Dabi kept on running, the night making it hard to see in front of him. He secretly felt grateful for having such a tall stature, because he was able to run quickly and get some distance with the heroes. You, though, weren't so lucky- he was hoping that you were holding up and able to follow him, even if you had a hard time keeping up. The heroes sounded to be getting closer, and he couldn't help but feel a small jolt of fear: if they caught him or you, you both would be done for, and he couldn't stand the idea of you getting caught-

A scream filled the night air, making his blood run cold.

“DABI!” you shrieked, feeling a rough hand wrap around your arm. One of the heroes had finally caught up to you, using his powerful strength to pull you from running back to Dabi. 

Dabi swiveled around, unable to find you. God damn it- he should have checked to make sure you were right behind him. What the hell was he thinking? Dabi cursed at himself, panic and fury filling in his stomach as he heard his name being screamed again.

He looked at the trees, trying to figure out which opening would lead to you. Why the hell did you have to get caught?

He quickly decided on a direction, going into a sprint as anger began to rise in his stomach. Whoever caught you and was making you that scared was going to fucking pay- nobody hurt the people he loved.

Dabi had begun to regard you like a sister, seeing alot of himself in you: you at first had trouble controlling your quirk, making you feel terrified of yourself and weak. But as he began to train you, he realized he found himself growing to like you: you were snarky, sarcastic as hell, and silly enough to even make him chuckle a little. You were beginning to be something of a little sister to him, and he was willing to do anything to protect you.

“Stop squirming!” the hero commanded, his strength making your arm begin to tingle with pain.

“Go to hell!” you spat back, not caring you were being disrespectful. 

“DABI!” you screamed again, continuing to fight against the hero. You felt trapped, like a prey getting caught by a predator.

You heard another pair of feet run behind you, your heart sinking seeing that they were not Dabi’s but yet another Hero.

“You caught one of them?” the new comer asked, making you shoot daggers into their eyes.

“Yes, but she’s not cooperating,” the other struggled to say as you fought against their grip.

The new Hero looked at your with scorn, your desperate attempts to flee making him frown.

“Maybe some time at the station will make them calm down,” they commented, the other nodding in agreement.

You eyes became wide with fear, your stomach feeling heavy. 

“Your both fucking hilarious, thinking I’m going to go there! Your asses are going to be dead!” you retorted, making them both a little shocked you would so outright cuss them out. 

“I’d watch your mouth-”

“Lets just take her!” the other interrupted his comrade, the latter grunting in distatse as they began to drag you away.

Fear erupted in your stomach as you were unable to get yourself away from the Heroes. You refused to get taken by them- you weren't going without a fight. You began clawing and kicking like an animal, not caring you were most likely hurting the Hero.

“Dabi! DABI!” you screamed out again- he wasnt that far away when you had gotten caught- he was okay right?- he heard you, didnt he?- he couldnt have gotten caught-

The new comer looked back, throwing a confused dirty look at your struggling form. “Who is she even calling to?”

The hero holding onto you stopped abruptly, looking at a figure in front of him.

The other noticed his sudden change, looking over his shoulder to find himself face to face with Dabi, his lazy smirk sending a wave of comfort to envelope your body.

“She’s calling for me,” he answered, his voice steady and strong. “Now, if you let her ago, you two wont get hurt- that bad.”

“You really think we’d give up that easy?! You’re crazy,” the newcomer retorted, taking on a battle stance.

You stared at Dabi, the pain in your arm pulsing as you watched his expression. Fear began to ripple inside you- to anyone who saw Dabi, he looked calm and collected- bored even. But you knew him too well- the clench in his jaw and the fire in his eyes told you he was furious, and when he was furious, he wasnt afraid to kill.

“Alright,” he shrugged, rolling his eyes, “suit yourself.”

Just then, you felt the intense grip on your arm release, the hero cryng out in pain as his arm became painted with his own blood. You looked to your side, hearing the manic giggles of Toga as she hide in the trees, her knives glinting in the moonlight. Twice then tackled the latter Hero, making them curse as they fought with the multitude of clones he created.

A smile enveloped on your face- you were safe. Your friends had your back.

Your vision became to froth with purple and black mist, knowing full well that Kurogiri was close by as your body began to sink into his portal-like quirk. You noticed the others began to do the same, Toga slinking in to her own with a love sink grin with Twice following behind.

Only Dabi didnt step into his own.

 Just before you fully submerged,  you watched Dabi look at the battered heroes with hatred. He raised his scarred hand, your vision turning a dangerous color of fiery blue as he activated his quirk, painting the night icy white.

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

[travesty-majesty]

Dear Dad.

Wilbur's final letter.

Word count; 1446.

Read also on ao3

Suicide tw!!

Dear Dad. I hope and pray to a non-existent god that you never see this letter. My pride is begging me to stop writing this, to leave it be and let us live in blissful ignorance. But even just writing it for the sake of my own conscience is... perhaps what I need to do right now. I'm so thankful you read all of my letters. You sent replies. It made me so happy to recieve them at dawn, carried by your messenger crows. Messenger crows. I wrote a song about them, who knows how long ago. Maybe I'll root out the chords soon so you can find someone better than me to play it. I'd wake up before anyone else did each morning. Fundy would still be asleep, Tommy didn't wake up until 10am each morning. Did I ever tell you that? His sleep schedule is so shit. But I'd wake up, and I'd read your letter, and I'd tuck it away so I could properly reply later. I'm so sorry I stopped sending them. Why did I stop? Many reasons. Number one. Guilt. Reading your praise felt like ascending. Just knowing that you're proud of me and wishing me well was the only thing keeping me going some days. But it was false. Empty words for a story I wove with shaking hands. I lied. There, I said it. It started when we lost the election. Goodness, just the day before I told you I was so excited. That I was sure we'd win. You'd said you believed in me. So when Schlatt and Quackity bullshitted their way to a victory, I didn't know what to do. Truly, I didn't. How was I supposed to tell you our nation fell? My longest project, my unfinished symphony, was halted in its tracks by its downfall caused by my own arrogance. How was I supposed to tell you I fucked it all up? So I didn't. It's foolish, I know, but what else was I to do? I told you what you wanted to hear. Or, rather, what I wanted to hear. We won the election! Tubbo's the president! Pogtopia isn't some shack we made in a ravine, it's a country! Everything I wanted my feeble mind to believe. I cut the parts from history I didn't like, just like I stashed away the first Declaration of Independance. But hey if I keep writing it, its true. I'm not a bad person. Well, I am. But not for this. 'To err is to human.' That's a quote from something. I don't quite care what. Through the web of lies I created in my fingertips like a game of cat's cradle, you reached through and ruffled my hair and told me you were proud. I was dragging you further in, tangling you up until I suffocated you in happy little lies. And if I was slightly worse, if I was so self conceited I took the words in stride, I wouldn't be here writing this. But while they were genuine to you, they were fickle and fake to me. But still, you'll never know. Right? Well, anyways. Reason number two. Shame. I know, guilt and shame are near interchangeable, but there's a difference. Guilt is regret for one thing you did. Shame is feeling like it's all you are. I didn't want to live with the fact that I lied. I considered myself an honest man. Sure, I changed my name so nobody would associate my possible failures to your name, and fine, yes, I told everyone I fucked a fish. Holy crap, people still think I fucked a fish. I won't correct them. Anyways, my point is. I lie sometimes, but this was my first lie that didn't have a good excuse. What even was my excuse? My pride? Selfishness? Who cares. You won't when you find out. Cutting myself off, but that leads me to point number three. Fear. I hate admitting my own flaws. Telling people my flaws is like opening up my chest and letting someone feel around and pick at what hurts most. But I'll tell you this. I hate people being angry at me. Because it's not justified, right? Am I truly in the wrong? Well. I do keep getting off topic, forgive me. My point here is, when you find out I lied, what will you think? You'll be mad, I'm certain of it. Why wouldn't you be? I don't want to face that. Your yell is enough to scare the trees from their roots. I can't bear the feeling of knowing I was truly in the wrong. But for all my talking, for all my ink scratched on paper, I know

one thing. Even if you forgive me, which I do not expect you to, I will not forgive myself. Because what if I'd told you the truth? What if I told you I was in trouble, that it felt like the world was turning against me and the walls were closing in? Would you have come sooner? Maybe. Maybe you would have come and found me while we were still sitting in Pogtopia. Maybe you'd give me advice. Maybe I'd introduce you to everyone, give you a real chance to meet your grandson. Maybe you'd have hugged me and told me everything would be ok. Fuck me, man. I haven't been hugged in years. I'm almost starting to miss it, for all my hatred of touching people. I wouldn't say I'm touch starved. Am I lonely? No, I can't be. I refuse to say I am. I'm not lonely. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve to long for someone to be on my side, because my side isn't a side. It's a crumbling wasteland, and I'm standing in the centre as people flee to solid ground. But I won't move. I'm a stubborn fool, Phil, and once I've decided on something I'll nevet let it go. Well, someday I will. But not now. Did you know how many chains there are here? Every lamp is suspended from one. It's almost aggravating how they can just hang there, with no worries. Why would they have worries? They're fucking lamps. I envy them. They're hanging. Someday I'll go. I'll finally leave the SMP in one way or another, no matter what. But goodness, if I don't wish I could see you one more time. Even if you're angry, or disappointed, or harboring as much hatred for me as I do for myself. Just so I could say goodbye. Would I even say goodbye? Will I? Well, I suppose you can answer that. Because if you'll ever see this, I'll be long gone. I refuse to let you read this before I'm dead, gone, decomposed. Hey, when did I write my first letter? It was to mom, right? I was thirteen. Dear Kristin, I started. I was so formal. I didn't even call her mom. Maybe, thirteen years after I die, you'll find this. Maybe then you can read my regrets. Guilt, shame and fear, all piled onto one sheet of parchment. Well, you'll see it someday. I'm stashing this letter away in a chest in Pogtopia. Maybe you'll visit someday and find this. Maybe you won't. Maybe the rats will get to it before you ever do. Maybe the tear stains will dry by then. I'm going to miss you, dad. You and mom. I know I'm spiralling, but it isn't your fault. It never was. It was my own, for being such a selfish bastard. I wish I'd gone it alone. I wish I hadn't had Fundy. Not because I harbor hatred for him, but just because he didn't deserve this life. I wish Tommy and Tubbo hadn't followed me to the train station. They could've stayed home with their parents and had a normal kid life. I wish Eret had stayed home when I called him, asking him to join L'manburg. I wish I could still talk to him without wanting to shoot his stupid white eyes out. Because he was a good man, Phil. Maybe I was too. But I suppose that's what happens to good men. I end up wanting to kill them. I was a good man, Phil. Once upon a time. Anyways. I'm running out of ink. I could only snag so much from the white house. So I'll have to stop here. What's my final message? My last line in the symphony? Well... I'm sorry, Phil. For everything. I should've been a better son. Yours sincerely, Wilbur Minecraft.

[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 3 - The Yule Ball

Summary: Your date leaves you during the Yule Ball, but luckily, George is there to save the day - and your night.

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word count: 2K

George Weasley x Reader

Song featuring: Magic Works - The Weird Sisters

Masterlist

- Edited for grammar -

Red dress with golden laces — you were dressing up in the house’s colors. You let your hair down and checked yourself in the mirror once again before you headed down the stairs. The common room was already full of people, in front of your eyes were dresses and robes mixed together into a beautiful range of colors. You waved to a few familiar faces, then opened the Fat Lady and went to meet your date for the night.

Two days after the McLaggen incident you already had a Durmstrang boy asking to be your escort. You didn’t know him at all, but you said yes, hoping that you’ll have a great night. You knew Ginny’s desire to go with Harry hadn’t worked out, but you didn’t have any secret crushes so you were just happy to go with anyone.

As you walked down the stairs you spotted your date talking to a Beauxbatons girl with a big smile on his face. You were a bit unsure whether you should intervene or not, but then the boy saw you and waved.

“Hi,” you said, not as nervous as you had imagined to be. “How are you?”

“Good evening” he said with his thick accent. “May I?”

He offered his arm and you grabbed it gently, letting him leading you to the Great Hall.

“I’m sorry, but I think I forgot your name,” you admitted, trying not to feel embarrassed.

“It’s Alexander,” he said. “And you are?”

“Oh, it’s Y/N”.

He nodded and didn’t say anything else. You were a bit surprised by his calm attitude. You thought he’d smile at you, or compliment your dress at least but it didn’t seem to be the case. Alexander was searching the room and when he found his friends he just lead you there and started talking to them.

You were not quite sure what to do with yourself. Luckily, the four champions entered the Great Hall with their partners, opening the ball with a dance. You smiled at Hermione. She looked really pretty.

When others started to join the champions, you felt Alexander’s hand on your arm. He shot a polite smile at you while leading you to the other dancers, but you somehow felt the whole situation as an obligatory thing. You two didn’t talk the entire time. Soon it started to bother you how he was only looking over your shoulder, gesturing to his friends behind you.

“So, er — Do you enjoy being here this year?” you tried to start a conversation. He looked at you almost in wonder, like he was just now realizing that the two of you were dancing. He nodded.

“Yes, yes, very beautiful. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He let go of your waist and turned to is friends.

“Oh, er — okay,” you said in confusion but he couldn’t hear it. He was already at the other side of the room.

You felt a bit embarrassed standing there on your own while dancers were bumping into you, so you decided to flee. You walked to one of the tables where you could get drinks and searched for something you’d like. You held a glass in your hand and as you turned around you saw Alexander, laughing while dancing with the Beauxbatons girl he had been talking with before. Your jaw dropped in outrage.

“Close your mouth, otherwise something’s gonna fly into it.”

The familiar voice belonged to a familiar face. You looked at the boy and said in total disbelief:

“My partner is dancing with someone else!”

George turned around to the way you were pointing. Seeing the boy he snorted. “Well, not a big loss if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you,” you said, taking the piss. He shrugged, smiling.

“Maybe you should have. Then you’d have a better partner. What are you drinking?”

You looked at the empty glass in your hand.

“Butterbeer, please.”

He poured you and himself a glass, then he drank half of it. You were watching him, wondering.

“So where is your partner?”

“Er — somewhere around there I guess,” he pointed at the farthest corner of the room. “We got separated and to tell you the truth, neither of us wanted to find the other again.”

“I see. Why did you come with her then?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” he shook his head. “The whole ball, actually.”

You didn’t have an answer to that so you nodded and drank. George was looking at your face the whole time.

“So is there anything like this where you live?” he asked.

“A muggle ball, you mean?” you asked. He nodded. “I wouldn’t really know. I don’t attend those.”

“Why not?”

“Er — they are a bit different than this.”

“Really? How?”

“Well, reason number one, I am not really welcome at them.”

You saw on his face that he expected anything but this. His eyes grew big in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

You decided to give him the shorter version.

“Well, my parents don’t really — er — like me.”

“Wait, what?” he put down his glass, his full attention on you. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why would you know that?” you asked, confused. “I don’t talk to you and your brother.”

“Yeah, but I… hold on a second. Me and my brother?” his eyes were full of suspicion. Then he spoke like he just uncovered a secret. “You don’t even know which one am I, do you?”

It was your turn to be suspicious.

“Why the hell would I not know?”

“Cause there’s only a very few people who do.” He sounded quite proud.

“You’re only twins, it’s not like you’re the only pair on Earth,” you rolled your eyes. A cheeky smile appeared on the boy’s face.

“Then tell me who do you think I am.”

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Which means you don’t know.”

“No, it means that I’m not playing your game. I know who you are. Let’s move on.”

“Sure,” he was still smiling. “So why do you think your parents don’t like you?”

“I don’t just think, it’s a fact.”

“But why?”

His smile disappeared, his face seemed more genuine. You cleared your throat and only looked him in the eye after you finished your drink.

“Well, I’m a witch, you know. And where I come from witches are not very welcome.”

“Why?”

“Er — do you remember those stories Binns told us about muggles hunting down witches in the past cause they feared them?”

“I guess.”

“Yeah, we are those people. My parents, I mean. They live in the past, really. They’re not hurting anyone but they still think I’m a disgrace.”

“You’re joking?”

“No. I’m serious.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“At least here you can be with friends.”

“Yeah, and listen to Malfoy giving me shit for being muggleborn.”

He snorted.

“Muggleborn my ass. More like smuggle-born.”

You almost choked on your drink.

“Wait, what?” you could hardly breathe from laughing. George nodded cheerfully.

“You didn’t know? Quite a lot of people call you ‘the smuggleborn girl’. Because you can get them everything they need.

“No way!”

“Yeah.” He changed his voice to sound like a kid “‘Hey, do you know where can I get that pen that has four colors?’ — ‘Yeah, try ask the smuggleborn girl.’ — ‘But I thought she was just a myth!’”

You couldn’ t hold back anymore. Your laugh was loud and joyful, and George seemed to be quite proud of himself while listening to it. He poured you another drink and raised his own to make a toast.

“To smuggleborns.”

You chuckled.

“To smuggleborns.”

“We would be happy to collaborate with you on business matters, dear Y/N,” his style reminded you to his prefect brother’s who would always order people around in the hallway during his student years. “May our cooperation leave thousands of customers satisfied.”

You both drank and you started to feel warmth in your chest, probably caused by the consumed butterbeers. It was nice talking to George, and you didn’t mind at all that Alexander had ditched you in the first ten minutes.

You stayed there for over an hour just talking and laughing about the silliest things. The Great Hall slowly started to get emptier as the night went on. You and George were at your fourth butterbeer when the music started to slow down and the band announced that they were finishing up.

You looked at the others; only a few couples stayed and swayed slowly to the music.

“Looks like it’s ending.”

“Yeah.” George put down his drink and offered his hand to you. “You wanna dance?”

He caught you off guard, but a smile appeared on your face.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s the last song. C’mon.”

He took your hand and lead you to the dance floor. He placed one hand on your waist as McGonagall had taught you all, his other hand grabbed yours. The music was sweet, the tune was caressing your soul. Everything else seemed to disappear and you felt nothing but delight.

——

George was not the best dancer there is, but he enjoyed dancing with you. He was careful not to step on your feet, but that was he’s only concern, really. He felt free, he felt relaxed and… and… and you were really pretty.

“You look really pretty tonight” he said, his throat a bit dry.

Your face lit up. Your smile was pretty, too.

“Thank you” you said.

“You’re also dancing way better than I am.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

George had to laugh at your lie. His chest was heating up. Must be all the drinking. Suddenly he wished you had told him who do you think he was. He wished you knew who you were dancing with.

So believe that magic works,

Don’t be afraid of being hurt,

Don’t let this magic die,

The answer’s there - oh, just look in her eyes

You suddenly let go of his hand and his palm felt quite empty. A moment later you raised your arms and put them around his neck.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, placing both hands on your waist.

He didn’t know what the bloody hell was going on. He couldn’t think straight. He felt lost in the moment and he was perfectly fine with it.

When the song ended and you let go of him to applause the band, he felt like he was waking up from a dream. He felt dizzy, he suddenly regretted drinking that much. He wanted to talk to you more, but he also needed to lie down for some reason. He looked at you, smile on his face.

“Can I walk you back?”

“Yeah, I mean we’re going to the same place anyway,” you said cheekily.

“Witty,” he rolled his eyes then gestured towards the door. “After you.”

He left the Great Hall with you by his side. He was incredibly pleased with the night. The Beauxbatons girl leaving him behind was the best thing that could’ve happened to him. He had never really thought about you before, you were in your own world and he was in his. But now you seemed to be quite pleasent to be around.

You gave the password to the Fat Lady and entered to the common room. After taking a few steps George took a deep breath to say goodbye to you, but you spoke first.

“Thank you for the dance. I had a great time.”

George nodded, still feeling a little bit dizzy.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Well —  see you later then.”

“See ya.”

You waved him goodbye and walked to the stairs. You were on the second step when you seemed to remember something and stopped. You turned around, that cheeky smile on your face as you looked him in the eye.

“Good night, George.”

And with that you disappeared behind the door. George didn’t even realize what happened until ten minutes later when he was lying in his bed, under the covers.

You knew.

——

The next day you wanted to sleep in, but your stomach demanded otherwise. You got up, got dressed and walked down the stairs.

“Finally. We’ve been waiting for you for ages!”

You looked quite surprised at Fred, who was getting up from the couch with a grunt.

“George says, it would be smart for us to work together.”

You looked at George who was trying to hide his smile.

“You wanna go get breakfast?” he said.

You nodded, then opened the Fat Lady.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”