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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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Guys I’m having another Bakugo brainrot

Tw: bullying, noncon, nonconsensual peeping, manipulation

Remember that one episode of MHA where the class goes to the sauna and M*neta tries to check da girls out over the wall?

Imagine the same scenario, but years later when they’re all older

The class wanted a reunion, just to relax and blow off some steam

You’re with the girls, and you all lay back in the hot water reminiscing about the older days when everyone was still getting the hang of their own quirks

Mina brings up this exact same scene but years ago.

“Ohmigosh, do you guys remember the last time we came in our first year here and Mineta totally tried to get a peek at us?”

“Ugh, I hope Iida is keeping a good hold on him right now,” Ochacko giggles, kicking her feet up to rest on a rock

You hum in agreement, tilting your head back to rest against the wooden wall separating you and the boys.

As it was, Uraraka was almost spot on with her hopes. Except, Iida and Tokoyami were out getting refreshments for the rest of the boys, leaving the remaining group to their own plot.

Which was lead by Mineta, of course, who had the brilliant idea to spy on the girls, just like they almost did years back.

“Guys, come on, please they’re right there!” He practically salivates, wildly gesturing to the tall wooden wall in front of them.

Most of them shift uncomfortably and groan about him being a creep as usual, but the rest stay silent.

Mineta takes their lack of outright refusal as fuel to keep blabbering.

“Look, we almost got away with it back then-“

“-You mean you got away with it, we didn’t do shit. And you didn’t exactly get off scot-free, Kota completely demolished your attempts and you landed ass down on Four-Eyes’ face,” Bakugo drawls, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the obsidian sky. The boys laugh, remembering the ridiculous event.

The night is cool, the stars littering the inky atmosphere take the pressure off of Bakugo’s lungs. For weeks now they’ve been training like dogs, battling each other and even minor villains for extra practice of their quirks. This trip was supposed to be a leisure getaway, not a free porno.

But the grape-headed perv is insistent, scoffing and waving the blond’s quip off like some annoying fly.

“You know, there’s something in it for you too, Bakugo. I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N.”

This causes a murmur and a couple of light beers towards the blond, who in turn snarls and ignites his hand to quell the commotion. All of them had an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had finally set his sights on some poor girl, and that was you. It was such a rare sight to see his face flush slightly when you walked past him, the way he stuttered over his words a bit when you two would be conversing amongst the same group, and best of all, when they would see how he would excuse himself to the bathroom or locker room occasionally when your hero suit would tear in certain places after battles.

“Shut the fuck up 3’2, unlike you I don’t need to ogle at those brain dead bimbos.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you thought of Y/N as a ‘brain dead bimbo’, Bakugo, I’ll be sure to let her know how you feel” Mineta grinned maliciously, and the boys ‘oooo’ed at the jab.

Bakugo’s voice caught in his throat.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, rising slightly out of the water.

“I already know you’ll kill me afterwards, but I’m prepared for the repercussions if you don’t help...cooperate here,” Grapehead inspected a cuticle and feigned a yawn.

“Come on Bakugo, it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anyone! Well keep this to ourselves,” Denki chimed in a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re only asking for your and everyone’s support so that we can focus better on training y’know? A little fun never killed anyone.” Sero threw his arm over Kirishima’s shoulder, who blushed at the whole ordeal but kept silent all the while.

Katsuki looked around. Slowly, others were starting to really listen in and look interested at the outcome of Mineta’s plan. Surely a little peeping wouldn’t be too bad would it? And plus, it was only a one time thing.

Shoto was faring the same way as Kirishima, quiet and maybe embarrassed at what they were planning on doing, but no outright refusal. Even Deku had a weird longing glint in his eye, the same kind he would get when he used to fawn over All Might.

He thought about it for a minute more, a chance to see you, naked, honest, and pure, splashing around with your friends as you let your femininity dangle as it pleased.

“Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not taking blame if the bird and glasses come back, though.”

Hushed cheers and excited murmurs erupt from around the spring, and they huddle together to form a plan.

A couple minutes later, the boys were grouping around the wooden panels. Todoroki had burned a hole into the soft wood, and sero had used his transparent tape to cover it up so that the girls couldn’t see it from their side.

And there they were, completely bare, hair flowing, curves showing, voices mature and high pitched giggles emanating from around the water and bank.

Bakugo seeks you out immediately after the hole is made, shoving his way through the crowded bodies much to the amusement of others. But he doesn’t care, all he wants at the moment is to see you in your most honest element.

He doesn’t have to look long, because you’re right there, you’re right in front of them, only a few meters away. Your back is facing them, but the sight of your smooth, naked back and the round curve of your ass squishing against the rocks underneath you is enough to make Bakugo’s cock bob painfully above the water. It’s not too hard to hide his erection since the boys’s attention is elsewhere at the moment.

Your hair is open, and he wants nothing more than to feel it in his hands, run his fingers though your scalp and pull so hard that your neck is snapped back, he wants to know what kind of noises you’ll make for him, would you sound shrill and high pitched or would you wail and bellow for him to let go?

They can hear the girls talking amongst themselves, the hole in the wall makes their voices more audible and clear.

“Quit playing coy, Jirou, we know you’ve got your eye on someone,” Hagakure’s body is nowhere to be found as usual, but her chipper voice rings out from the middle of the hot spring.

Jirou is a few feet away from where you sit, her body also being shown for everyone to see. Bakugo glances at Kaminari to confirm his suspicion, but gags and quickly looks away when he gets an eyeful of his friends’ erect cock.

Not that Bakugo himself has room to talk, though.

“I mean, not really, it’s not a big deal.” The ravenette shifts and hides her head from the rest of girls’ cooing.

“Uh huh, sure. You’re not fooling anyone Kiyoka, I’ve seen the way you look at Denki. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, it’s cute,” you purr, and Bakugo holds himself back from shoving the other guys out of the way just so that he can hear your voice the best.

Squeals and sounds of splashing fill the air, and Sero and Kirishima whisper excitedly and clap their red-faced friend on the back. Denki can’t keep the 50K watt smile off his face, and even Bakugo grunts and knocks shoulders with him, letting him know that he was happy for the human charger.

But then Jirou claps back with her own snarky observation, and the boys fall hush at the new revelation.

“Alright, you wanna talk about ogling Y/N? Then tell me, how’s Deku doing?”

“Or Bakugo, too,” Mina adds slyly, and now all the girls’ attention, as well as the boys’, is on you.

Bakugo felt like he had whiplash. He would’ve been elated, on Cloud 9 even to hear that maybe you had something for him too, had shitty Deku’s name not have been thrown in there too.

And he looks around wildly for the green haired freak, the freckles dusted across the expanse of his face even more prominent from the deep blush quickly forming, his scarred hands holding the sides of his face shaking in awe and gleeful shock.

But the rest of the boys aren’t as oblivious to how Bakugo seethes at his rival’s joy, from the way the water gets hotter from his quirk sparking underneath the rippling waves. Kirishima scoots closer to his friend and gently lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say, calm down, man. Not right now.

And so the hothead leaves it for the time being, opting to hear your response.

“I-it’s really nothing, they’re both just good classmates like the rest of the guys,” and although your back is turned to them, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re embarrassed too, your leg skittishly bouncing in front of you is making your ass jiggle from the back, much to the delight of the salivating boys.

Bakugo wants to spill blood when he suddenly realizes your body is being shown for the rest of these dogs to see

The girls start teasing you, your splutters being drowned out by their playful accusations.

“Come on L/N, whose cuter?”

“Dont act all coy now, I know how nervous you get when you’re all close to Bakugo. I mean I don’t blame you, have you seen his muscles? He could crush someone’s head with those things!”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she giggles when Deku starts his mumbling tangents? That’s a classic crush right there.”

Bakugo is getting desperate to hear your answer now, some of the boys have left, feeling like they had their full of excitement for the night. They saw some tits and ass, heard some gossip, end of story.

The only ones remaining were Bakugo and his gang, as well as IcyHot and Shitty Deku.

Shitty Deku, who seemed equally eager to hear your response.

It pissed him off that he wasn’t getting the message to fuck off, even after all the growling and death stares he was receiving from his childhood friend.

But he guesses after a lifetime of dealing with it, it doesn’t scare Deku as much as it does anymore.

Maybe he’ll have to amp it up, later

“W-well I mean both of them have their own respective...flaws and strengths I guess..sometimes Deku can be kinda hard to talk to ‘cuz he’s so shy, but Bakugo can be a real jerk at times, too.”

You trail off, and Bakugo scoffs to himself. Him? Flaws? Those two words didn’t go well in one sentence together, but nonetheless he continues to listen. He wouldn’t refute the notion of him being an asshole, he wasnt that delusional.

“And yeah, I mean Bakugo definitely intimidates me sometimes with how aggressive he can be, but Deku is definitely getting up there in terms of physical prowess. But in terms of who I like, I’d have to say-“

“Midoriya! Bakugo! What are you two doing over there?”

Iidas voice booms across the water, and all 6 of the boys jump back, startled at the intrusion.

“No, wait-“ Bakugo hisses, clawing his way towards the hole to hear the rest of what you had to say, but Sero and Todoroki shove him back and patch the hole up with fire and tape, shutting off your confession.

Deku waves his arms around wildly, stammering some excuse of dropping his towel in the spot where they all were sheepishly gathered. They eventually waded their way over to where Tokoyami had set the drinks down, but the blond was shaking with hot rage despite the cool refreshment that was shoved into his hand by a wary Kirishima.

“Don’t sweat it dude, it’s not like her and Midoriya are gonna da-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll blast both your and his head off,” he glowers at the redhead, shorting a dark look to where an all-too-happy Deku was chatting with Todoroki, as if they hadn’t been drooling over their naked classmates merely a couple minutes ago.

Kirishima backs off with raised hands in surrender, leaving Katsuki to mull over the situation by himself.

You couldn’t seriously be interested in that green haired freak, right? I mean he could barely talk to a girl without tripping over his own damn tongue, for fucks sake.

Not that he was any better himself. He failed to acknowledge the times where you had merely asked him for an extra pencil, when he snapped at you for being such a fuckin’ dumbass that you couldn’t even remember to bring your own shit. He had done that out of pure impulse, but he regretted it the moment he saw your face fall, his heart clenching at the sight

He’d have to show you that he was the better option, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

And so when they had all gotten out of the water and gotten ready for food, Bakugo already knew what he had to do.

You were all eating outside in the camp pavilion, each at their own separate tables. He was sitting with the boys, all of them joking around and throwing food at each other while he was staring you down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. How could you expect him to, after he had seen half of you bare already? It was sinful almost, the way you were completely in the dark about what he had seen and heard, while he himself was fantasizing about what you looked like and felt like on the front.

So when Deku came by your table, no doubt also having the same conversation of the springs in mind, wanting to get closer to you, Bakugo felt his sanity snap.

The fork he held in his hand started melting in his ignited hand, steam curling from his palm. He watched as the green-eyed fuck made successful shitty attempts to make you laugh, his eyes trained on where you gently laid a hand on his shoulder after something he said that made you throw your head back and howl with glee.

“Hey man, your fork-!” Kaminari yelped, pointing at the disfigured mess of metal in his friend’s steaming hand.

“Huh?” Bakugo was pulled out of his irate daze, and he quickly dropped the fork when he saw what he unconsciously did.

They all looked at him for an uneasy minute after noticing the expression on his face, no doubt understanding he was furious about being compared to Deku once again in front of you.

“Look, Bakugo, don’t really take what Y/N said to heart. We don’t know who she actually likes, and Midoriya’s just her friend...” but Sero trails off hesitantly after glancing in your direction, seeing Deku’s dreamy expression as your hand still continues to rest on his shoulder.

“Just let her come to you, yeah? You don’t wanna force anything on her, that’ll make her really uncomfortable-“

-“Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair, and mind your own damn business,” Bakugo interjects, abruptly unscrewing his drink and standing up, unable to lose you to some broccoli- headed bug-eyed fuck.

He stiffly walks across the pavilion to where you two sit, and feigns a swig from his bottle. Your focus is still on Deku, so you don’t notice him approach until he comes up behind you two and ‘trip’s, falling forward and strategically spilling the liquid all over Deku’s back and your front.

You squeal as your blouse is drenched, and Deku shoots up from his seat to grab some napkins while searching for the perpetrator.

“What the- Kacchan?”

“Oops.”

Bewildered, you look at the two while dabbing the wet splotches on your shirt, Mina and Tsu jumping into action to help you.

The boys exchange a weird look, and although Bakugo gave his version of an apology, he doesn’t look very sorry. In fact, if you saw it right he looked almost...smug? With a bit of anger?

Deku wasn’t any easier to understand either. His voice was lilted as usual while he grabbed napkins, but his gaze never left his childhood friends’ and his eyes weren’t exactly the big doe-eyes you had grown fond of.

They were darkened, and narrowed as they bored into Bakugo’s eyes. Neither one of them was looking away from each other, and there was a weird tension in the air that everyone could sense.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to go and wash up.

“I gotta change and maybe take a shower, I can feel it sticking to my skin,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and tell Mina as you stand to leave. Deku offers to walk you, but you wave him off kindly.

As you pass by Bakugo, you can feel his eyes rove up and down your body, very obviously staring at the way your white shirt clings to your chest from the liquid, sending chills up your spine.

But he doesn’t come after you, not yet.

It’s only after everyone has finished up from their dinner and headed off to bed almost 20 minutes later that the showers finally, finally warm up enough for you to dip a hesitant toe in.

Curse the old pipes.

*******

He watches you from the dark, the only light you’re provided with is the dim emergency light from the rusty bulb, the camp counselors having been shut the facility’s lights off merely a half hour ago. But you were stubborn in waiting for the water to warm up so you were left alone in the showers, shifting uncomfortably in your sticky wet clothes.

And then miraculously you get up for the umpteenth time to check the temperature of the water, and it’s finally deemed appropriate for you when you sigh in relief and start taking your shoes off.

He hides in the door partition, his cock hardening slowly as he thinks of you alone with just him and his mercy. You were going to pay for almost breaking his heart and prancing around with stupid fucking Deku instead.

But asides from his rage, he still liked you, a lot. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you, so he decided to try and attempt to make your first time with him as gentle and as special as he could in the dirty cabin showers.

Bakugo waits with bated breath for the right moment, and the second your hands grip the end of your shirt to pull it up, he slowly emerges from the dark.

“You know, I’m glad you came here alone, at night. It’s almost like you wanted this.”

You jump violently at the low voice coming from seemingly nowhere, and you wildly look around for the source until you see him...coming at you slow from the inky abyss of the room, like a predator stalking his prey.

His figure seems to loom even larger than he actually is, the shadows of his tall body bouncing off the walls and grazing over the top of your head. He seems to be in no rush, taking his time with his hands in his pockets, eyes flashing dangerously at you as he stalks forward until he’s backed you up against the deteriorating wall, chest to chest with you.

“W-what the hell, Bakugo,” you stammer nervously. “This is the girls room, you can’t be here-“

And the hand you raise to push him away is caught in his calloused ones, your other wrist is quickly seized as well and slammed above your head. You cry out in pain and try kicking out, but he wedges a bulky knee in between your thigh and shoves his face mere millimeters away from yours, a mean leer adorning his normally-attractive face.

“What, I can’t be here? And here I was thinking that you almost liked me. But oh, I forgot, Deku’s your favorite, right?” The grip on your wrist tigthens and his leg flexes from in between your thighs.

You squirm and sob, about to ask what the hell he was talking about-

Oh.

Oh no.

He sees the understanding pass over your face, and he laughs cruelly at the horror that comes with it.

“You heard me? How?”

“Not just heard. I saw you, too.”

He lets his eyes drop from your neck, to your chest, and then to the juncture between your legs which was being massaged by his knee.

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he was watching you this entire evening in the springs. How he got away with it, you didn’t want to even know.

“I saw your hair open for the first time, and not in that stupid hairdo you always do for school.”

He trails his hand softly up the sides of your body and up your neck until he reaches his big hand into your scalp. You whimper and gasp as he laces his fingers through your locks, seeming to caress you but then harshly yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him head on.

“I saw your ass pressed up against the rocks, and I wished it was up against my cock instead.”

He removes his hand from your hair and snakes it down to your bottom, kneading and slapping it lightly. You writhe even harder now, too scared to make a noise in case he hurts you even worse, just wanting him to get the hell off of you.

“But I didn’t see the front of you. I imagined what you would look like with tears streaming down your face while I was stuffing you full of me”

He plays with the edge of your shirt, a dark look in his eye as he plays with you. You try to budge your hands but to now avail, only serving in annoying him and shoving his knee up further into your crotch. The pressure on your clit is immense, and your legs start shaking as you’re forced to be suspended almost midair on his knee.

“Take this off,” he says softly, the rasp catching in his voice.

“Bakugo, please. You don’t have to do this, I swear I won’t tell anyone-“

“You think I’m worried about if you’ll tell anyone? Hah! I already know you won’t, wanna know why?”

He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair and grazing his nose along the side of your neck. You force yourself to breath in and out, feeling an impending heart attack.

“‘Cause if you do, I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of everyone, especially on Deku’s broken body.”

And then you can’t stop them, the tears fall from your body shaking in pure fear at his threat.

You knew he wouldn’t actually do something like that, but hearing it snarled in your ear so softly made you believe it all the same, the power he held while you were fucked, literally and metaphorically.

“Now I’m not gonna ask you again. Take this shit off before I burn it, bitch.”

You don’t want to piss him off further, so with trembling hands you lift the edge of your sticky uniform and start to pull it off, but he stops you with a frustrated grunt.

“Slowly. I wanna savor this while no ones here.”

You bite your lip and suppress a scream as you do what he says.

And oh, does he ever savor it. The shirt clings deliciously to your breasts, and he licks his lips as it ruffles up and over your head. Your skin is perspiring from the humid air, a sheen of sweat lightly decorating your collarbones. Bakugo can’t hold himself back any longer, and you yelp when he comes at you suddenly.

He lunges at your face and pins your arms down by your side again as his lips mesh against yours, his kiss filled with clacking teeth and a thrashing tongue against your lips. The knee you’re straddling is bouncing lightly up and down, jostling you on it and causing your cunt to pulsate with heat.

You let out a distressed moan, and he swallows it greedily, using the advantage of your open mouth to delve deeper into your wet cavern. You open bleary eyes and flinch when you find his already wide open, staring back into unforgiving vermillion orbs.

He pulls back slightly, panting. “I bet Deku didn’t get this kind of treatment, huh? It’s all for me right?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking you or just being insane, so you don’t answer him. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, he doesn’t care for your response, rather more focusing on dragging you by your neck towards the hot showers.

You slip and stumble as he shoves you in a stall, gaining your balance only too late when he turns and locks the door.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, just forget you saw or heard anything at the springs, it was just girl talk, stupid stuff that didn’t mean anything-“

“-even if it didn’t mean anything to you I’ll make sure you believe what you’ll feel after I fuck you senseless.”

And with that, he tugs off his clothes and licks his lips at the sight of you cowering against the wall, naked and oh so vulnerable.

He slowly shifts towards you, pressing his body flush against your trembling one. You can feel the outline of his erection on your thigh, and you swallow at how big it is.

“I don’t wanna have to close your mouth or restrain you when I’m balls deep in that tight cunt. So don’t do anything stupid and this’ll be a whole lot easier for you.”

He reaches a hand down and lightly strokes your labia, relishing in how you whimper and jerk against him, but don’t dare try to stop his hand.

Smart girl

Another hand finds its way to your tits, tugging and pulling at your hardened nipples. You gasp and arch into his touch, slowly coming undone from his ministrations. He humps against your leg like a teenage kid, grunting while he does so.

His mouth is attacking yours once again, but now you’re too tired from the constant surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins to even move your head. You just let him play with your body, your heart, your soul.

“I think the princess is wet enough for me now,” he leers at you when he pulls his fingers away, scissoring his digits to show the strings of wetness he pulled from your pussy.

You squeal and grab onto his chiseled arms as he suddenly hikes his hands underneath your upper thighs and picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his middle for support.

He slams you against the wall, the water cascading down your head is making your hair stick to your face, and in a strange and sudden show of intimacy Bakugo softly moves your locks away from your eyes. Your gazes lock, yours desperate and tear filled while his scarlet hues show no signs of mercy, but rather a strange predatory hunger.

Your arms scrabble behind his head and on his shoulders for balance as he slowly sinks you down on his length. You hiss and throw your head back at the sensation of being filled, and he eats it up.

He watches the way your mouth opens, your eyes widen, as every sinful sound your body can make escapes you.

As if he needed more of an ego boost

You wail as the last inches are sucked into your dripping hole, and he lets out a mean breathy laugh.

“Fuck, you really were ready huh? I should’ve taken you weeks ago, little slut.”

Your brows furrow and you try to turn your face away but he snatches your chin in a hardened grip.

“Uh-uh, none of that shit. You were doing so well, don’t turn away from me now.”

He slowly starts to roll his hips minutely into yours, not exactly thrusting but enough movement to make your cunt flutter and throb.

“What do you want me to say? You got what you wanted!” You whisper to him, more tears falling down freely down your cheeks.

He can’t help himself, he groans and surges forward to lick the salty rivers up, gripping your ass tightly when you flinch.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you want me, how much better I am than that green-haired bastard and I won’t shove it up your ass.”

You can feel his abdomen clench and shake from the effort he’s making not to completely batter your cervix so you give in quickly, afraid of what he’s like when his thin strands of self restraint snap.

“I...I love you Bakugo. I really want y-ooh!”

The last bit of your sentence is choked off as he lifts you up all the way to his tip and slams your hips down his length. You gasp and weave your hands through his hair for support, your legs violently shaking at the pain.

He grunts and starts really giving it to you, setting a fast pace as he bounces you on his cock. Your head is bobbing around, you’re fairly certain there’s drool coming down your lips but you can’t find it in you to care as he fucks you into oblivion.

After a couple of more painful thrusts he pushes you against the wall and removes your hands from his hair, holding them above your head against the wall. You’re trapped with your upper half plastered against the dingy tile while your lower half is wrapped his dick.

Your cunt swallowing him down is the only leverage you have, so your whole body weight presses down on his shaft. He moans loudly at the pressure on his tip, your gooey hot walls clamping around him from every angle and you yourself can’t help it when your eyes roll back at the sensation.

He rocks his hips up, and up you go as well, whining and clawing at the wall behind you, desperately grappling onto your sanity as well. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and his glinting eyes take perverse joy in their obscene movements.

Bakugo starts moving in earnst now, deeming the slow strokes enough prep for you. He batters your womb, reaching places not even your fingers could access, making you go cross eyed.

He sees this and snickers at your pathetic state.

“Fuck yeah you little whore. You’re gonna learn no one else can satisfy this slutty pussy like I can.”

You give him nothing but a choked gasp in response. You head moves like a bobblehead, you can’t even see clearly from the water cascading into your eyes. He’s just a towering blob of ashy blond hair and large muscles.

His hips start stuttering in their rhythm, drawing to a close from his contrasting pounding minutes earlier. Your nails rake over his forearms, holding on for dear life as he pants and groans into your ear like an animal. His dick spasms inside you for a second or two, and then Bakugo suddenly holds you tight against him, wet bodies pressed against each other as he cums.

He lets out a loud moan as you whine into his shoulder at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up. You’re held against his heaving chest for a moment of two, the both of you catching your breath until he slowly backs up and lets you slip to the ground.

It’s suddenly very quiet, the sound of the shower is drowned out by the ringing in your head. You’re shaking, shock overcoming your abused body as you refuse to look at him.

But he won’t have any of that. He steps forward, and you flinch yet again, scrambling backwards to put very necessary space between him and you.

“You got what you wanted. Please leave, I won’t say anything to anyone.” You breath out shakily.

He’s silent for a moment before you hear him chuckle. His low chuckles grow louder and more derisive, he’s booming with sinister laughter and you snap your head up in horror at him.

“You think this is done?”

He crouches to your level suddenly, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head at you, eyeing your naked body that he so recently claimed as his. His gaze travels down to where his cum seeps from between your legs, and you quickly cross your limbs over to prevent him from seeing the lewd sight.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I already told you, you’re not gonna be talking to Deku, or any other guy apart from me. You think they’ll even want you when they find out how you loved being fucked in the dirty showers? Everyone’s gonna call you a slut, nothing else.”

“No, that’s not true you-“

He crawls to you, and it’s so mesmerizingly terrifying to see a man of his build crawl to you like some deranged humanoid that you shut up, words caught in your throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says softly. “You’re my bitch now, and you’ll do whatever the fuck I say, when I say it.”

Bakugo might’ve felt a little bad to see the girl he liked so scared of him all because of his doing, but the way you trembled and crossed your legs like the stupid, helpless little girl that you were erased every hesitancy from his mind.

He grabbed your cheeks and smushed them together, paying no mind to the pleas and whimpers you let out in retaliation.

Licking a long stripe up your neck, you shivered when he growled, “now clean up and be outside in 10 minutes, you’re sleeping in my bunk tonight. The guys are all asleep so we’ll just take an empty room in the cabin.”

He released you and stood back up, grabbing a towel for himself along the way. Drying his hair off, his back was turned to you as he started picking his clothes up too.

You just sat there in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was dressed, and he was at the door now.

“If you think about doing anything stupid or take longer than 10 minutes, I’ll come back in and get you personally. And I’ll make sure that we stay here for the rest of the night, just in case you like your little time alone that I’m giving you too much.”

#tw: noncon #bakugo smut #yandere bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo mha #bakugo bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha yandere #yandere Bakugo #bnha yandere #bnha smut #mha smut

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savagesbonergarage · 3 years

Note

what are some of your favourite smutty headcanons for maul

Oh buddy

How much time do we have

Apparently I'm in the mood to give this a theme, and I decided that theme is messy

The last few ones of these are more ns/fw and potentially tw, so be wary of some weird stuff down there folks- bloodplay and watersports

I think by now we're more or less aware that zabraks have a higher body temperature than humans, and that this means the man is a lovely space heater for whenever you need it. This also means that if you decide to do the do somewhere colder with high humidity and perhaps in an enclosed space, expect some condensation. Remember the famous car window handprint scene from Titanic? Yeah, it's like that but 38% more like a sauna.

Slickity-slickity-sliiiiiiiiiick 💦

Y'all end the night looking like you both got a fresh coat of high-gloss clear paint ✨

We've all been curious as to why Maul opts to wear *less* clothing after TPM and so on, and the answers are about what you'd expect-

He's a thot

He's hot (literally and figuratively)

Tying into that is the fact that when he's gettin' busy and there's too much fabric in the way, it sticks to him. To you both, actually, and it's more of a distraction and nuisance than anything.

"Okay, but why wouldn't he just take his clothes off and put them back on after??"

Because~

He fucks like- ALL THE TIME. He doesn't HAVE a lot of time and since he spends SO MUCH OF IT FUCKING it's more practical for him to just not wear any clothes.

Not to mention when he fucks, he fucks like there's no time for it even when there is, so every single second counts. Time removing clothes is time wasted that could have been spent takin' you to pound town.

And we'd be kidding ourselves if we didn't talk about how messy things get in general without taking clothes into account for anything-

There's always a mess. Always. There's never NOT a mess, and yes, he makes sure of that on purpose. He'll go out of his way to make as much of a mess of you as he possibly can.

You've discovered his kinkier side this way...so uh, kinky stuff incoming

His favorite messes include but are not limited to (and more likely than not involve as many of these at once as possible)

Cum, obviously, yours and his. If there's not enough by the time you're both spent, he'll get you grooling and drooling and cumming even more to make up for it

If you happen to menstruate, another one is blood. It's hardly a deterrent for him, and if anything, it excites his predatory instincts even more. Even if you don't bleed that way, he'll improvise when he wants it...carefully of course, and always without causing you too much discomfort. If it's not an option for you at all, he'll get it from himself. There's an entirely new level of satisfaction he gets seeing blood smeared all over you on purpose.

And if he finds out you happen to have a tight bladder while he's fucking you, good luck trying to get him to forget about it. He's gonna make you pee whether you're embarrassed by it or not. (We can make the argument that squirting is just peeing here, but either way) It doesn't phase him in the slightest, hell he's been through the horrors of living on a trash planet for over a decade, he's not going to get turned off by a little piss - or a lot. He's nasty.

Of course, no matter how crazy the mess is he always makes sure you're well taken care of and properly cleaned up before you turn in for the night. The aftercare is somehow even more satisfying when he's got to put in more effort to take care of the huge mess he made with you, and the cuddles are absolutely euphoric. ☺️

#anon asks #tw:blood #tw:piss #maul #darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #maul smut #lemon

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maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

the game is afoot

WHATS POPPING MY LITTLE MUPPETS WERE BACK YEEHA

ok serious time. there's been a murder! if you'd like to solve it you can, you'll have all the clues you need (and a few you don't!) let me know if you got it right in the replies!! if you don't want to solve along, just read like normal and enjoy a cute little victorian gay fit with a dash of murder.

also, I DID NOT COME UP WITH THIS CASE AND I OWN NO PART OF IT. I'm a whole idiot and not clever enough to come up with a sherlock level case on my own. so, people who made sherlock holmes: crimes and punishments, please do not sue me. i am a broke college dropout with no money. also, if you know the case, please don't spoil it for anyone else!

tw for murder and associated things (blood, mild gore, etc), internalized period typical homophobia, and drug mentions. if i missed any, please let me know!

otherwise, welcome back!!

---------

“Hullo!” Cady chirps as she enters the door to 221B Baker Street, not noticing the state her dear companion is in on the sofa. She looks up after hanging her coat on the rack to find her pale and perspiring, and hears a weak groan. “Good heavens, Janis!” Cady drops her things and runs over to her partner’s side. “Whatever happened to you?”

“I feel… deathly,” Janis groans.

“And you look it,” Cady tuts, checking her dilated pupils and feeling her temperature. “Don’t tell me you’ve returned to your old habits.” Janis allows Cady to check her pulse. It’s weak, far slower than it should be. “Your pulse is weak and dropping, we-we need to get you to the hospital straight away. You are dying.”

“The antidote,” Janis moans, pointing weakly to the table nearby. “Give it to me.”

“Antidote?” Cady asks. “You mean that you have been poisoned?! Don’t tell me you did this to yourself. Here, drink it all.”

“I was compelled to.” Janis takes the small bottle and downs the whole thing in one go. Just then, Mrs. Norbury comes into the room to announce the arrival of Inspector Hubbard.

“Oh, Ms. Sarkisian is unable to see anyone at the moment, she is unwell,” Cady says apologetically.

Janis suddenly pops upright behind her, seeming in perfect health. “Ah, Inspector. What is it this time?”

“A case for you, Ms. Sarkisian,” Damian says. “We’ve brought in two young bankers from the city. Sons of lords, members of the chamber, et cetera. They were found stranded in a rowing boat drifting down the Thames.”

“A romantic escapade gone awry,” Janis says boredly, turning around to examine her nails.

“What? Well-it’s true they were both in the buff, but…” Damian stutters. Janis simply raises an eyebrow at him and gestures between the both of them. He chuckles and nods. “I have another that might be more to your liking. Sir Rodney Bentcliffe has been murdered at the Roman Baths. And there’s no sign of a weapon.”

Janis turns to him again, eyes wide with delight. “I shall meet you there shortly. Are you coming, Heron?”

“I feel I must,” Cady tuts. “But I’ll have you know I’m against you going out, as your doctor and your friend.”

Janis boldly cups her face and kisses her forehead, making Cady blush. “I am fine, Cady. Now come on, grab your hat!”

—————

Cady looks around in apparent awe at the room they find themselves in. Janis does have to admit it is beautifully extravagant, decorated with large marble statues and a rather tasteful fountain in the center. “My, how beautiful!”

“With a dreadful murder,” Inspector Hubbard pipes up, casually approaching them. “The body is still in the steam room. We haven’t touched a thing, per your usual instructions.”

“Excellent,” Janis says. There’s a gleam in her eye as she continues, “Then let us begin. Were you able to identify the men who were with him?”

“Ah, yes! Sir Gregory Pitkin, the manager of the baths; Garrow, a lad from the city council; and Blinkhorn, an archaeologist,” Damian informs her. “I am of the opinion that it’s Garrow. He doesn’t seem right in the head.”

“We shall see,” Janis hums. “You found no murder weapon?”

“No, that’s why you were sent for. The victim and all three witnesses were locked in at the time of the murder, and remained so until we arrived. We had to pick the lock to enter!”

“Was anyone else here?”

“Yes, a Mr. Phillips, at the desk there. He called the police, and will be able to give you more details.”

“My thanks, Mr. Hubbard,” Janis says jokingly. Damian tips his hat in response.

“Anytime.”

Janis makes her way over to the desk then, and Cady follows once she realizes her companion is no longer by her side.

“Good day to you, my name is Janis Sarkisian and this is my friend and colleague Doctor Heron. Would you be so kind as to answer our questions?” Janis says with what Cady knows to be faux-politeness. At least people seem to buy it.

“Ah, certainly ma’am,” the man says, a hint of anxiety in his tone. Cady watches in slight awe as Janis’ eyes track up and down the man before them and she seems to learn several key details about him in just a few seconds. It never gets old, watching her friend at work.

“Please tell us the chain of events from the start of your day,” Janis asks to start with once her observation is complete. “Anything you remember. The slightest detail may be of utmost importance.”

“Very well, miss. I came in this morning at six-thirty to prepare the baths,” Phillips says. “I did my usual tasks, preparing towels and cleaning. The brazier was still burning.”

“Pardon? There was a fire burning all night?” Cady asks in slight worry.

“Yes, Sir Gregory ordered me to light the brazier yesterday,” Phillips explains. “It takes some time until the room is fully heated.”

“Ah,” Cady says with a nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“The gentlemen had a meeting at nine o’ clock this morning. I wanted it to be perfect,” Phillips says. “They had been in the steam room for… twenty minutes, when I suddenly heard shouting. I ran to the door, but it was locked. I couldn’t open it. So I ran to the street to call for the police. One constable came, then others, and they picked the lock. Then the Inspector came and informed us nothing should be touched.”

“And did you receive any other visitors this morning?” Janis asks, bouncing once on the balls of her feet as she scans the room.

“Nobody, until these men arrived. Sir Gregory was the first,” the man says. “Then while we were discussing work details, Sir Rodney and Mr. Blinkhorn arrived together. Mr. Garrow followed.”

“And then?”

“I waited until they had all entered the steam room, then I returned to the hall. The changing room door was open, so I should hear if they needed anything.”

“You would have heard if someone had entered or left the steam room?” Janis asks.

“Certainly, ma’am. The doors make a lot of noise,” Phillips says. One of the witnesses must be the murderer, then.

“Thank you, my good man,” Janis says, leading Cady off toward the steam room.

The changing room precedes it, a large rectangular room with marble benches and shelves to hold personal items. Three sets of neatly folded clothing sit on the benches. Janis scans them quickly and apparently doesn’t notice anything of interest, apart from the fact that one set seems rather more expensive than the others.

What does catch her eye is a bottle of champagne, unopened and in a bucket of ice to keep chilled. Clearly intended to be enjoyed after the session in the baths.

They enter the actual sauna room then. A constable guards the only door, and three men stand clad only in white towels at the other end near the brazier. Janis looks delighted as she heads to inspect the body first. Cady follows quickly.

“Good lord,” Cady breathes. “How dreadful.”

Sir Rodney lies sprawled against the marble bench, arms spread as he sits in a remarkably large pool of his own blood. Cady quickly learns the source, his left eye. Thin but bright red blood tracks down his face and to the floor around him.

“Yes, a death with a particularly… Roman flair,” Janis hums interestedly.

“Like the one you almost had an hour ago?”

“Come now, let us forget about that,” Janis says.

Cady watches as her companion crouches down to examine everything she can.

“The wound should not have bled so profusely,” Janis hums to herself, dashing around on her knees so as not to leave footprints and taint the scene. Cady observes as she inspects his nails and takes an earth sample from beneath them, and looks at the ring marks on his finger.

“Death would’ve been an hour ago at most,” Cady says when she’s allowed to inspect the corpse herself, judging by the temperature of the extremities and degree of rigor mortis. “And would’ve been instantaneous. A vile act of savagery.”

“Delightful,” Janis says, sounding genuinely excited. “Wait, don’t move!”

Cady freezes as Janis calls to her loudly, and watches as she bends to remove a small gold key from the pool of blood next to the corpse. Cady stands from the body once it’s been retrieved and turns to her colleague.

“We don’t have many leads here,” Cady says.

“What concerns me is that we have yet to find the murder weapon,” Janis murmurs, clicking her tongue against her teeth. “For now, we shan’t worry. Constable!”

“Yes, Ms. Sarkisian?” The constable guarding the door asks.

“Please have the body removed without disturbing anything else in the room,” Janis asks politely. A few more constables enter and gently remove the body, leaving only the pool of blood behind as evidence of a crime. Janis takes a small sample to be studied for more clues, then stands to begin assessing the rest of the room.

“Sarkisian,” Cady murmurs quietly, pointing to the man standing closest to the brazier. There’s a large, bloody handprint on his towel. He clearly discovered the body, but did he put it there?

“Hm,” Janis hums disinterestedly, turning a switch on the wall. Steam suddenly floods the room, making it difficult to see more than a foot or so away. Janis quickly flips it back off and waits for the steam to clear. “Interesting.”

She heads to the brazier then, assessing the embers as close as she can. A pair of spectacles rests on the edge, one lens cracked from the heat. Cady can tell from the thick glass that they are for myopia, otherwise known as the wearer being nearsighted.

Janis attempts to get closer, but the heat is too much. Some melted metal rests in the center. “Heron, please remind me to find a tool to remove this metal so that I may study it.”

“Yes, Sarkisian,” Cady says quietly, marking it down in her notebook. She wishes she could do as Janis does and store all the important information in her mind. But her notebook has come in handy more than once.

Cady dashes after Janis as she exits the steam room and is quickly approached by Inspector Hubbard, who asks if she has any objections to having the suspects taken to Scotland Yard. Janis says she has none, and the Inspector moves to he steam room to gather the men.

Janis heads to speak to Mr. Phillips once more to inquire about the key she found. “Mr. Phillips, how many people have keys to the steam room?”

“We have just the one, for now,” the man replies, standing from his desk to speak with them once again. “Sir Gregory gave it to me.”

“So, you opened the steam room this morning,” Janis says rather abruptly. “What happened afterwards?”

“I put the key in my desk, but when they called it had disappeared,” Phillips says, looking to his feet. “I-I don’t know where it is.”

“Did you leave at any point, or receive any visitors?” Janis continues.

“No, miss, I did not,” Phillips says. Even Cady can tell he’s lying.

Janis points to a bit of paper sticking out of his pocket. Cady notices it to be a sent telegram upon looking closer. “You are not telling the truth. You did leave your work this morning. You went to the post office to dispatch a telegram at around seven-thirty.”

“But-how could you-“ Phillips stutters. Janis smirks slightly.

“The telegram was for someone in Manchester.”

“But it’s imposs-“ Phillips stumbles again. Janis just raises an eyebrow, and he crumbles. “I shall tell you everything. My sister wrote to me yesterday, and she needed a reply. Our mother is unwell. I left the baths at around seven-twenty to tell her to pawn my old school uniform to pay for the medication. I was away for twenty minutes, and I closed the baths on my way out.”

“Did you check to see if the key was still in your desk when you returned?” Janis asks.

“N-no, ma’am,” the man stutters. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this. Sir Gregory would sack me. I need this job.”

“I see,” Janis says, slightly coldly. “Do you happen to know who left the bottle of champagne on ice in the changing room?”

“Champagne? No,” Phillips responds, seeming to come back to himself slightly. “Do you think that it’s important?”

“We shall see,” Janis hums. “Good day to you.”

Janis then heads to a door opposite the entrance to the steam room, marked ‘frigidarium’. The cold room. Just inside the door to the right is a shoddy door, with a plaque labeled ‘Sir Rodney Bentcliffe’ just outside.

“This must be his workshop,” Janis hums, pushing the door open and stepping inside. It seems rather hastily put together, temporary tables set up to hold small archaeological finds, and shelves with larger items line the far wall.

“Sarkisian, I would like to examine the blood again, if I may,” Cady asks. Janis waves her off as she takes a pair of tongs from a table and leafs through a few documents on the desk.

Janis examines a large, curved metal plate, with a carving of a bridge etched into it. A short document rests on top explaining that it is believed to be part of a larger, unknown structure. Janis leaves it for now and heads further down the corridor to the frigidarium. She’s halted in her tracks by a thunderous rumbling. She blinks and is suddenly on her behind, a large wall of rocks and debris blocking her path down. She shakes herself off and coughs a bit.

“Janis! Are you alright?!” Cady yells, barreling down towards her. She skids to a halt when she sees Janis perfectly fine, if a little dusty, sitting before her. “Oh, thank heavens!”

Janis begrudgingly allows Cady to assess her for injuries, and her eyes fly open when Cady suddenly rests a gentle hand on her cheek and locks their lips together. This is new.

Unfortunately it doesn’t last, as Cady seems to realize what she’s done and pulls back with a gasp, scrambling away and pressing her back against the far wall. “I-I-I-“

“It’s quite alright,” Janis says soothingly. She gently pulls herself back to her feet and takes a small step forward, but Cady shakes her head frantically and stops her in her tracks. “Heron, really. It’s absolutely fine.”

“I-I’ll see you back at Baker Street,” Cady says hastily. Before Janis can say anything she’s running back down the corridor and outside, coattails trailing behind her.

“What happened with her?” Damian asks. Janis just shakes her head and dusts off her coat. “Are you alright?”

“Bit dusty,” Janis tuts. “Is there another way ‘round this?”

“Not that we’ve found,” Inspector Hubbard says. “If it becomes necessary we can remove the debris for you. I’m off to the Yard, would you care to accompany me?”

“Not just yet, I’ll likely be there tomorrow afternoon,” Janis replies, following him to the exit.

“Very well. Good day to you, Sarkisian.”

“Same to you, my good man,” Janis chuckles. She grabs the metal from the brazier in the steam room with the tongs and follows him out the doors once it’s cool enough to handle.

Janis hops out of the cab when it arrives at Baker Street, quickly paying and pacing off to the flat. Her hand is on the doorknob before she freezes and turns around to cross the street.

“Wiggins,” she calls when she notices it’s him. A watch for her secret police division is always there, but Wiggins is her personal favorite.

“‘Ello Ms. Sarkisian,” Wiggins calls back, resting down a toy cart he seems to be repairing. “What can I do for ya?”

“There’ll be two guineas in it for you if someone can track down Heron,” Janis says. “Don’t let her see you, just make sure she’s alright and let me know where she is.”

“Easy! I won’t let you down, miss,” Wiggins says, saluting before dashing off down the road. Janis grins affectionately and heads back upstairs.

——

Janis is too busy worrying for her companion to get any real work done, so she decides to reorganize her mind palace for a while. Cady’s wing could use some decorating.

After a few hours, a great cacophony of noise suddenly echoes downstairs, followed by the calls of Mrs. Norbury. Whoever it is wipes their shoes on the mat briefly before heading upstairs. She can tell by the polite gesture and the energetic step that Wiggins has made a return.

“We found Doctor Heron, miss!” He calls.

“Excellent. How was she?” Janis asks, sitting up before heading over to him.

“She didn’t seem very well, to be truthful, Ms. Sarkisian,” Wiggins says. “She’s in the park. But she ain’t going anywhere, just pacing about and cryin’.”

“Hmm,” Janis hums sadly. “Not much I can do about that, then. Here’s your payment.”

Wiggins skillfully catches the coins she tosses his way. “At your service, miss.”

Janis is deep in thought once more by the time he leaves.

————-

Cady enters the flat several hours later, finding Janis in her usual pose. Flat on her back on the sofa, hands pressed together in the praying position just underneath her nose. Unusually, she pops an eye open and sits upright when she hears Cady enter.

“Hello,” Janis says quietly. Cady can tell she sees right through her put-together facade. Of course. When doesn’t she? “Are you well?”

“Fine,” Cady whispers in agreement. She sheepishly makes her way over and hands Janis a pile of papers. “Here.”

Janis flicks through them. “Our rent agreement?” Cady nods. “Whatever for?”

“So I can move out,” Cady murmurs. “You won’t have to see me again, I’ll-I’ll handle it all.”

Janis snaps her head up to look at her, tossing the papers aside. “Why do you wish to leave?”

“You know what I am, Janis. You know how-how I feel about you,” Cady whimpers. “It’s unnatural. Why would you want to associate with me now?”

Janis gently approaches her dear friend. “You are missing a key element of the narrative, my dear Heron.”

Cady looks both baffled and terrified as Janis gradually gets closer. “And-and what would that be?”

“How I feel for you,” Janis purrs gently, wrapping an arm around Cady’s waist and resting her forehead against the redhead’s. “I admit I’ve grown rather fond of you over the years of our companionship.”

“You have?”

Janis chuckles quietly. “I have indeed. I’ve always thought matters of the heart trivial, a weakness. Waste of valuable brain power. But you’ve managed to work your way in regardless. And I find myself not wishing to attempt to remove you.”

“Oh,” Cady hums, flushing a spectacular shade of pink. “How-how long?”

“I couldn’t say exactly,” Janis says quietly, staring into the brilliant blue of Cady’s eyes. “But a very long time. How long for you?”

Cady grins up at her slightly. “Since the day we met.”

“Really?” Janis laughs. “After all that. I’m surprised.”

——

“Kenya or Tanzania?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Are you from Kenya or Tanzania?” Janis repeats.

“I-Kenya,” Cady stutters. “How did you-“

Janis rolls her eyes haughtily, seemingly having been through similar conversations before. “Your skin bears a lingering tan that implies you grew up near the equator. Your accent is African, and you have a large scar along your collarbone that could only have been created by a creature with large claws, most likely a lion or a tiger. Tigers live mainly around India, not Africa, so it was most probably a lion. The largest lion populations in Africa near the equator are in Kenya and Tanzania.”

“Incredible,” Cady breathes. Janis chuckles under her breath and raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“That’s not what people normally say.”

“What do they normally say?” Cady asks curiously.

“Piss off,” Janis laughs.

—-

“You’ve been invaluable to me,” Janis murmurs. “I daren’t imagine life without you.”

“I love you,” Cady whispers back.

“And I love you,” Janis says. “May I-“

“Kiss me,” Cady demands. Janis happily obliges, resting a gently callused hand on her jaw and brushing their lips together. Cady gives a quietly delighted sigh and threads her arms around Janis’ neck, tilting her head for a better angle. Janis marvels in how soft her lips are. Maybe Cady will let her experiment on them.

Cady gasps quietly as Janis sucks her bottom lip between her own and gives a gentle nibble, allowing Janis to deepen their kiss and brush their tongues together. The soft groan Cady allows to escape nearly makes Janis’ knees buckle.

They both look a bit dizzy and disheveled when they have to break apart for breath. Cady gives the widest smile Janis has ever seen, and squeals in surprise when Janis scoops her up in retaliation. She has remarkable upper body strength for her build.

“You have no idea how precious you are to me,” Janis whispers, carrying her over and resting her down on her experiment table so their eye levels are just about even. Cady tries desperately not to think about the jar of-are those eyeballs?!- that Janis brushes away to make room for her. “My conductor of light.”

“Your what?” Cady asks lovingly, stroking a hand through Janis’ hair and gently scratching at the base of her scalp.

“‘It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but that you are a conductor of light,’” Janis recites. “I read that somewhere. Some people without possessing a spectacular amount of genius have a remarkable ability to stimulate it.”

“Cheers,” Cady grumbles.

“Not in a bad way, my darling,” Janis amends. “You give me a… lens, so to speak. To shine my light through, give it a purpose. Conduct it. A light on its own has no point. The sun would be near useless without the atmosphere.”

“Oh.” Cady says. “I suppose that does make me sound useful.”

“You’re more than useful, dearest. You’re invaluable. Irreplaceable.”

“Yours,” Cady concludes for her. “Forever.”

“Does it bother you that the world can never know of us?” Janis asks quietly, nuzzling her nose against Cady’s.

“My world already does,” Cady hums, holding Janis’ face between her hands gently and staring meaningfully into her warm brown eyes. “Nothing matters to me but you.”

“I should hope your patients matter to you,” Janis teases. “Else we may get some strongly worded letters arriving soon.”

“You know what I mean,” Cady says, rolling her eyes. “Would you stay with me tonight?”

“Always,” Janis purrs, lifting her off the table and carrying her to a bedroom. She can’t help but notice that they seem to fit together perfectly when she tips Cady down into the bed and is immediately grabbed and held close. Like a puzzle.

—-

Janis yawns and stretches when she wakes the next morning, rather shocked to find that she apparently slept for at least a few hours. She can’t remember the last time she actually drifted off so easily.

She’s sprawled on her back, with Cady pressed against her side and her face tucked into Janis’ neck. Cady snuffles discontentedly when Janis gently kisses her forehead and removes herself, tucking her in a little tighter with the warm wool blankets.

Cady comes padding out of the room a full half-hour after Janis finishes her small breakfast, still in her nightgown. Janis grins slightly when she sees that she’s decided to add Janis’ robe and slippers to her little morning ensemble.

“Good morning,” Janis hums when Cady presses herself to her back as Janis looks out the window over Baker Street. “You look cozy.”

Cady just gives a quiet hum, not up to speaking quite so soon after waking up. Janis turns around to hold her, and Cady sighs contently as she’s held against her love. Janis rests her chin on top of Cady’s still unbrushed hair and closes her eyes.

“Did last night truly happen?” Cady whispers, muffled by Janis’ warm skin.

“I believe so,” Janis whispers back.

“Prove to me I didn’t dream it,” Cady begs quietly. “Please.”

“Shh,” Janis calms before cupping her face and kissing her sweetly. She feels Cady’s relieved sigh puff gently against her cheek. “Good morning, darling.”

“Good morning, my love,” Cady beams back.

“Mrs. Norbury made your breakfast,” Janis murmurs after a long moment. “Should still be warm.”

“Have you eaten?” Cady asks knowingly, pulling back to look into Janis’ eyes.

“Yes,” Janis chuckles. “Not enough for your tastes, I know, but I have eaten.”

“Good,” Cady chirps. “I’ll get some calories in you yet. Where are you off to today?”

“Nowhere for the morning, I have some experiments to conduct here,” Janis replies.

“Anything I can assist with?” Cady asks politely.

“It’s nothing particularly interesting, just a few analyses on some evidence,” Janis replies. “I’ll be off to interrogate the suspects this afternoon, however, you can accompany me then if you wish to.”

Cady nods, allowing Janis to start her work. She begins with the sample of earth taken from beneath one of Sir Rodney’s fingernails. She finds it to contain pyrite, selenite, and white clay particles. Based on the composition, Janis deduces it is white clay, which is found only around the city of St. Albans.

Now to the blood sample. Under the microscope, Janis is able to observe that it’s still very liquid, and has not coagulated well. She drops a few drops of hydrogen peroxide onto the sample, which allows her to see that the blood has been heavily diluted with water.

All that’s left is the metal she discovered in the brazier. Janis believes it to be silver. A simple test is all that’s needed. Cady naively provides her with a silver penny. Janis drops a small amount of acid onto both the coin and the metal sample, and observes the same reaction on both. The result is the same red stain. The metal is, indeed, silver.

—————

Janis heads to the evidence room immediately upon arriving at Scotland Yard. Four evidence drawers await her on the table. Three suspects, one victim.

She begins with the victim’s belongings. Janis finds and sneakily pockets a hand drawn map, and closely observes an ancient coin, and a gold ring etched with an Egyptian symbol, which has been repaired by an amateur with silver. All that’s left is a small notebook.

“Heron, my dear, please fetch me a pencil and prevent anyone from entering the room,” Janis says, upon observing the last pages to have been torn out.

“Er… okay,” Cady says, handing over her own pencil and turning to guard the door. Janis sneakily removes Cady’s handkerchief from her pocket as well.

Just as Janis has finished carefully rubbing the pencil over the pages and smudging them with the handkerchief, a constable enters past Cady to inform them that the autopsy has been completed.

“Ms. Sarkisian, the body has been- but, tampering with the evidence!” He says in shock.

“‘Today, I almost found it. This date will go down in history,’” Janis reads from the book. “Sir Rodney was on the brink of an incredible discovery. Simple tricks, nothing terrific. I could only save the final words, however. The rest is lost.”

“Perhaps the autopsy can give us more information,” Cady says, skimming through the coroner’s report.

“I am not sure that I can allow you to inspect the body now,” the constable says anxiously.

“And I am sure that you must,” Janis hums disinterestedly, moving to the next drawer of effects. Cady waves him along and joins her partner at the table. The next drawer is Percival Blinkhorn’s, and contains nothing but a pencil and a letter from Sir Pitkin urging him to hurry his archaeological work. Rather threatening.

Garrow’s belongings are next, and contain only the bloody towel from the steam room and a small bottle of herbs. “Do you know what this is, my darling?”

“It looks to be St. John’s wort flower,” Cady says, flushing slightly at the pet name. “We use it commonly as a treatment for melancholia, but an incorrect dosage could cause a rash, or even hallucinations if especially poorly used.”

“Hm,” Janis hums, pocketing the phial as well. The last drawer is Sir Gregory Pitkin’s, and is apparently of the least importance to her. An embroidered handkerchief, a very expensive fountain pen with solid gold trim, and a business card.

Cady follows Janis down to the morgue then, to inspect the body in more detail. Janis carefully peels back the sheet to the dead man’s waist, and looks to Cady for details.

“Er…” Cady stutters, flipping quickly to the correct page. “Ah. No issues with the heart or lungs except traces of fungus, most likely contracted during his work in Egyptian tombs. No stomach or liver disease, if we are to accept that he was sixty three years of age and an occasional drinker.”

Janis carefully flips the body over, and observes bruising in lines around his shoulders and waist, caused by a rope. “He was descending.”

“Where?”

“That remains to be seen,” Janis says, turning him back over and observing his face.

“A strange wound, resulting in instantaneous death,” Cady explains. “Inflicted by a curved knife.”

“Curved,” Janis murmurs under her breath. “Well, my dear, I think we’ve seen all we can, do you wish to interrogate the suspects with me?”

Cady carefully washes her hands in the sink next to Janis. “Are they particularly dangerous, would you say?”

“I would think not,” Janis replies. “But then again, one can never know.”

“I suppose,” Cady says nervously, following her back up the stairs. “But be careful.”

“I always am,” Janis replies, taking her hand to help her back into the corridor. The constable unlocks the metal door for them and escorts the first suspect to the interrogation room. Janis heads over to the small wooden table in the middle and sits across from Sir Gregory Pitkin. Cady leans against the cold stone wall and attempts to look tough.

“Good day to you, Sir Gregory, I am Janis Sarkisian. I am aiding the police with the investigation of the murder that took place yesterday morning. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?”

Even Cady can tell that Sir Gregory is on edge, looking at them with a haughty air of disdain. He slams a hand on the table and demands, “Tell me, Ms. Sarkisian, will I have to stay here much longer?”

Janis decidedly ignores him and rests her hands on the table. “You are the manager of the baths, yes?”

“Yes. I wanted to restore the ruins. My goal is to open the baths to the public,” Pitkin says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back casually in the rickety wooden chair. “Living archaeology can be very profitable. Although now, I am not so sure.”

“I see,” Janis hums interestedly. “And when did you wish to begin your restoration?”

“When the archaeological researches are over, I am free to begin, it is the usual process,” Pitkin says loudly and haughtily, looking at Janis like she’s the scum of the earth. Janis simply raises an eyebrow before continuing.

“And what was the state of your relationship with Sir Rodney?”

“I’ll say we were not particularly close. He had an unpleasant temperament. Suspicious, authoritarian, unkind.” Pitkin spits. Cady thinks it sounds rather more like he’s describing himself.

“Was he obstructive in any way?” Janis asks. Pitkin seems to deflate slightly.

“Not in the slightest,” he admits. “Everything he did led us to greater success.”

Janis tuts slightly to herself before moving the discussion along. “Had Sir Rodney shown any odd behavior recently?”

“Now, see, I’m not a particularly suspicious sort,” Pitkin says. “But I think that he had professional interests elsewhere that he did not wish for us to know.”

“Why should you think that? Where?” Janis asks interestedly. Maybe they’re finally getting somewhere.

“I have no idea,” Pitkin replies with a shrug. Janis huffs slightly. “It’s not my business, after all.”

“How was work at the baths progressing before the arrival of Sir Rodney?” Janis asks, closing another lead in her mind.

“Rather slowly, I would say,” Pitkin replies airily. Janis pulls out a copy of the letter she had found with Blinkhorn’s personal effects.

“Then would you explain this letter? You expressed a desire to call off the work being done,” Janis says coyly.

“It’s all that damned Blinkhorn,” Pitkin spits. “Digging away merrily with little care and finding nothing of any value.”

“But Sir Rodney’s arrival changed your mind?”

“His work was extremely promising, and good for publicity,” the man explains. “So yes, I changed my mind.”

“Hm,” Janis hums kindly. “Would you please explain to me the events of yesterday morning?”

“It was a test, that morning, and a success,” Pitkin replies. “The steam was working well. But then, of course, that terrible murder.”

“And what did you witness?”

“The steam was too thick to see anything,” Pitkin says. “Ask that Garrow, he found the body first.”

“Ah, Garrow. Are you aware that Mr. Garrow is under a form of medication?” Janis asks.

“No,” Pitkin replies. “But I never liked that parasite.”

“Do you believe him to be capable of murder?”

“He did have blood on him,” Pitkin says. “Does that make him a murderer?”

“I shall ask the questions here. Do you know where the silver in the steam room brazier came from?” Janis huffs.

“Silver? No,” the man says with a hint of confusion.

“Did you bring champagne to the baths with you?”

“Absolutely not. Sir Rodney did, I think,” Pitkin replies.

“That’s all I have for you for now, good day to you,” Janis says politely, asking the constable to exchange him for the next suspect.

“Well, he was a pompous arse,” Cady huffs from her spot. Janis laughs and stands from her chair to stretch her legs.

“Agreed,” Janis chuckles. “I cannot say I haven’t been worse, but he is definitely one of the more… unique specimens I’ve interrogated. What are you thinking?”

“I think it’s either him or Garrow,” Cady replies. “Pitkin seems to me to be hiding something, and if the medication is anything to go by Garrow is clearly under some sort of duress.”

“Hm,” Janis hums. “Time will tell.”

The next man is brought in then. Janis waits for him to be seated and cuffed to the table, and apparently decides to remain standing for this one. Cady returns to her position and watches Janis assess the new suspect. His eyes are clear and focused, attentive. And Cady can tell from his clothes that he is most definitely not a man of wealth.

Janis gives her usual introductions, and learns that this man is Percival Blinkhorn.

“What is your occupation, Mr. Blinkhorn?” Janis asks almost kindly, as if they’re acquaintances simply getting to know one another.

“I am an archaeologist, I specialize in the Roman period,” Blinkhorn responds eagerly. His voice is clear, and remarkably soothing.

“Hmm,” Janis hums, sounding interested. “Can you tell me more about the baths?”

“Well, we were hoping to retrieve a great many interesting artifacts from the site, and to list any items of value before their eventual restoration and exhibition.”

“And has it proven successful?” Janis asks.

“It has, thanks to Sir Rodney,” Blinkhorn says. Cady detects a hint of melancholy in his tone.

“And what was your relationship like with him?” Janis asks.

“I couldn’t say that he was a kind man,” Blinkhorn replies. “But he was a talented archaeologist. I felt a great admiration for him.”

“Was this your first collaboration with him?”

“No, I had met Sir Rodney in Egypt, briefly,” the man says. “I shared my researches with him. Surprisingly, they convinced him to come here. He arrived only a couple of months ago.”

“Surprisingly?” Janis asks, leaning casually against the table.

“Well, Sir Rodney is-was, oh god- a cold man, and very secretive,” Blinkhorn says, looking at his lap. “But I learned a great deal from him in a short time. I cannot believe that he is dead…”

“Could you tell me what you saw yesterday?”

“We all entered the steam room and went to sit down,” the man replies. “The steam was particularly dense, and I couldn’t see anything much further after that. I just heard Garrow shouting. We all ran for the door and bumped into one another. I was very alarmed by this point.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, the door was stuck, and with all the steam it was quite frightening. I was barely able to see my own feet,” Blinkhorn says anxiously. “Garrow was covered in blood.”

“Do you believe that he killed Sir Rodney?” Janis asks. She does have to admit that much evidence seems to point his way.

“Oh, no,” Blinkhorn says quickly. “Garrow could not harm a fly.”

“Hm,” Janis replies. That certainly throws a small wrench in things. “Can you recall any recent behavior from Sir Rodney that would now strike you as strange?”

“Well, we had a small argument yesterday,” Blinkhorn admits.

“Is that all?” Janis asks, leaning closer to his face. It’s almost intimidating to Cady. And she’s not even nearby.

“No,” Blinkhorn says sheepishly. “Sir Rodney informed me that he was to attend the London Archaeological Congress with me. Then he rather aggressively advised me of the opposite.”

Janis nods slightly. “And how well were your researches progressing before the arrival of Sir Rodney?”

“Quite well, I would say,” Blinkhorn replies.

“Really?” Janis asks, raising an eyebrow as she catches the man in a lie. “This letter reveals that Sir Gregory was prepared to put a stop to your work at the baths.”

“Er… yes,” Blinkhorn stumbles, realizing Janis has him. “But since the arrival of Sir Rodney he had calmed down, allowed us to work. I’m not sure what they agreed on.”

“Hmm,” Janis replies casually, sitting on the corner of the table. “And what will happen now that he is dead?”

“Oh… I haven’t thought about that,” Blinkhorn replies quietly. He suddenly perks up a bit and continues, “But if it is needed I will fight to defend Sir Rodney’s expectations.”

“How admirable,” Janis replies boredly. “We discovered some melted silver in the brazier, can you explain its presence?”

“No, silver, you say?” Blinkhorn says curiously. “No, I don’t know how it got there.”

Janis nods, appearing to file the information away. She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out Sir Rodney’s ring. “Do you recognize this?”

“Why, certainly. It is the famous Assouan ring,” Blinkhorn says, seeming a bit more chipper. “Sir Rodney brought it back from his last campaign in Egypt.”

“He kept it for himself?” Janis asks. From what she’s heard so far, Sir Rodney does seem the type.

“Sir Rodney has-had- his own… particular ideals of archaeology,” Blinkhorn explains.

“Mm,” Janis hums. She folds her hands behind herself and walks to the other side of the table. “What can you tell me about Garrow?”

“He always looks so sad,” Blinkhorn says. “And… he has been acting strangely, lately. He complains of visions and voices. I will keep an eye on him, I am worried.”

“Hm. And did you place the bottle of champagne in the changing room?”

“No, I did not.”

“I thank you, my good man,” Janis says, rubbing her temples as Blinkhorn is exchanged for Garrow, the final suspect. It’s quickly obvious to both Janis and Cady that Garrow is not well.

He takes his seat in the rickety wooden chair and folds his hands beneath the table, wringing his fingers. His eyes dart around the room nervously and he’s rocking himself back and forth slightly. He doesn’t seem to notice Janis speaking as she introduces herself and asks him to answer their questions.

“Ah, uh… um-“ he stutters when he finally looks up. His eyes are sunken slightly, and he’s covered in sweat. “Good day. I-I am Tristram Garrow.”

Janis nods almost comfortingly. “And what is your occupation, Mr. Garrow?”

“I-I-I am a councilor at the district chamber,” Garrow replies, still rocking slightly.

“Then what were you doing at the baths?”

“Well… I-I follow the researches,” Garrow says. “I’m… interested in-in archaeology.”

“You ‘follow’ them?” Janis asks.

“Yes. So many things happened, and-and we need to know,” Garrow replies. “Or-or perhaps it’s better hidden.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, I-I meant nothing by that, I apologize.”

Janis hums under her breath before continuing the interrogation. “What was your experience working with Sir Rodney?”

“Oh, it was like-like working with a genius,” Garrow replies. “He was… a hard man, but then, this is a hard world. Always people who want to steal from you. And-and he trusted me… but-oh-“

“Are you feeling quite well?” Janis asks in concern as the man before her suddenly beings rocking much more violently and his volume escalates.

“I’m sorry-his eye,” Garrow says frantically. “I remember-“

“Do you need anything?” Janis asks, already preparing to reach for the phial of his medication in her pocket. She wants to get as much out of him as she can before giving it to him, but she will if it becomes necessary.

“I-I feel bad, I can hear-“ Garrow says, looking around him to either side, appearing to see something that Cady and Janis can’t. “No-no. Nothing, I feel better now. My apologies.”

Janis gives him another moment to gather himself before she continues. “Please tell me what you can recall seeing yesterday.”

“The-the room was so hot, I had to remove my glasses,” the man begins much more quietly. So the myopic spectacles are his. “I was not feeling very well in there.”

“And you found the body?”

“I saw the-the knife, you know,” Garrow says, growing frantic again. “Flying through the air! And the blood, I tried to-to-to escape, I don’t-don’t remember-“

“You saw the knife? Are you able to describe it?”

“It was as if-if in a nightmare,” Garrow shudders, hunching in on himself. “E-everything happened so fast. It-it was shining like-like gold.”

“Gold? Hm,” Janis says under her breath before she moves on. “Had you noticed any strange behavior from Sir Rodney, as of recent?”

Garrow seems to think for a moment before he gives a weak nod. “He-he had been rather secretive these past few days.”

“Can you provide me any examples?”

“Last Thursday,” Garrow says. “I saw him leave. It-it was very late when he re-returned. He showed me some-some wet coins, Roman coins, and… he started to laugh.”

Janis pulls the coin she found out of her pocket. “Something like this?”

“Oh, yes,” the man nods. “This is the coin he showed to me. It-it is from the third century!”

“It must be very rare.”

“N-no, I don’t know.”

Janis pockets the coin again before pulling out Sir Rodney’s ring. Before she can even fully remove it, Garrow recoils and starts rocking heavily again.

“His ring! It should be destroyed!”

“Why do you say that?” Janis asks calmly, removing it from sight in an attempt to alleviate some distress.

“It-it is a cursed ring,” Garrow says. “And it is after me now! I know it! I shouldn’t have worked on it, it is too late now!”

Janis won’t be able to get any more information from him in this state, and offers Garrow his phial of medication. He visibly relaxes upon the sight of it and reaches for it hesitantly. Janis nods.

“Thank you,” Garrow says as he removes the cork. “This will help me to calm down.”

“Do be careful with the dosage,” Janis says meaningfully. Garrow nods, but Janis leans against the table almost threateningly. “I mean it. Now, do you know anything about the bottle of champagne on ice in the changing room?”

“What? No.” Garrow says confusedly once he’s taken his medicine and had a moment to gather himself once again. Janis nods and clicks her tongue against her teeth slightly.

“What about the silver in the brazier, did you put it there?”

“It didn’t help, the power is too strong,” Garrow replies, seeming to grow anxious again. Janis apparently decides to end with that, and has Garrow escorted back into the cell.

“That last one didn’t seem very well, Janis,” Cady says anxiously. “He seems very disturbed.”

“That, or he is a good actor,” Janis nods, flagging down a cab to take them home.

————-

“Janis?” Cady asks from the sofa that evening. Janis turns from where she’s stoking the fire in the hearth.

“Yes?”

“Why… why did you choose to be with me?” Cady asks quietly. Janis knew she still had something on her mind. “Do I not make things more difficult?”

“Come here,” Janis coaxes, reaching out for her. Cady wraps her arms around Janis’ waist and rests her head on her shoulder. Janis holds her as well, and gently sways them around. “You know me well enough by now to know when I am lying, so I won’t say things won’t be more difficult for us.

“But you must know that you make things much better, my darling. I’m loathe to admit it, but there have been cases I would have been unable to solve without your aid. And you gave me a reason to stop my old habits, who knows where I would be if I had continued? You make me… human. Your love is my most useful detective tool.”

“Oh.” Cady says gently. “You make me better too.”

“I’m not sure I can believe that,” Janis chuckles quietly, but Cady shakes her head.

“You have. I was so uptight when I moved here, you help me slow down, ironically. You help me see things from a new perspective. Stop and appreciate the little details in things I would never have even seen otherwise. And you know how dark my world was when we first met. The things I had been through. But you brightened things up for me. Gave me a reason to stay.”

“I’m glad, then,” Janis murmurs, kissing Cady’s forehead. “Did you know I was never looking for a roommate?”

“You weren’t?” Cady asks, pulling back slightly.

“No,” Janis laughs. “I had told Aaron I found a flat in London, and he asked how I was planning on making rent. I guess he didn’t believe I could, and took it upon himself to find me a flatmate to help. He had tried a few times prior, but I refused every one until he brought you to me. I just got lucky that you could tolerate my presence as well.”

“I do more than tolerate you, my love,” Cady murmurs. “I always have. But I’m glad you took a liking to me, I would never have even gone with him if I knew you never wanted me here.”

“I did, after we first spoke. I knew you had something special to you,” Janis hums. Cady beams and cuddles back into her, following along with Janis’ slow waltz around the living room. After a second, she pipes up again.

“Jay?”

“Hmm?”

“What cases were they? That I helped you solve?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Janis teases. Cady whines in defeat. “Maybe we’ll read through some of your old case write ups and see if you can work out which ones they were.”

“Okay,” Cady whines. Janis kisses her gently to make her smile. Cady grins weakly and kisses her back.

“One moment, my dear,” Janis says, appearing to remember something. Cady pouts again but watches as Janis removes something from her coat pocket and heads to the map of London next to the door. “You’re good at mind game things, come help with this.”

Cady tilts her head in confusion, but comes up behind her. Janis is holding up the map they found among Sir Rodney’s belongings and trying to piece out where it is. “May I?”

Janis nods, so Cady gently plucks it from her fingertips and removes the framed map from the wall to carry both over to the desk. She flicks the small lamp on, which makes the paper easier to see through. She finds the matching section down near the bottom right corner.

“There.”

“Ah,” Janis says eagerly. “You up for a trip?”

“Always,” Cady says with a smile, craning her head back to look at her. Janis kisses her before running off to her room.

“Then pack a bag!”

————-

The next afternoon finds them on the site of an archaeological dig.

“Are you sure this is the right place, madams?” Their cab driver asks in concern. Janis turns around to see where they are, then to Cady, before she gives a nod.

“Certainly seems promising. I’d ask you to wait here, you’ll be paid for your time,” Janis replies as she holds out a hand to help Cady down.

“It’s rather eerie here,” Cady says, refusing to let go of Janis’ hand as they approach the gate. She shudders when a slight breeze blows through.

“We shouldn’t be terribly long,” Janis comforts. “And by the looks of things nobody is here, we’ve done far more dangerous and unsettling things.”

“Yes, that gives me so much more confidence,” Cady grumbles. “Look.”

Janis does, looking to the sign Cady is pointing to. It lists the name of the site, but has been painted over to say it’s been abandoned until further notice.

“Why would Sir Rodney come here, if it’s been abandoned?”

“Let’s find out,” Janis replies boldly, opening the gate and leading Cady in. They head to a cabin near the entrance first.

“They left the door open?” Cady asks in concern.

“They either were in great haste or rather careless,” Janis tuts, heading inside. There’s a desk directly across from the door covered in various artifacts. Janis takes a thick document from it, and skims through pages detailing the cult of Mithras. A map is tacked to the wall just above her. “We seem to be in the heart of an old Roman city, my dear.”

“I don’t particularly care for it,” Cady mumbles, arms crossed over her chest. “Why was it abandoned?”

“I’m not sure,” Janis replies. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t wish to, my darling. I can finish up here and meet you later.”

“No,” Cady insists. “It’s not safe here, I’m not leaving you here alone. I just wish you’d hurry.”

“I will, dearest,” Janis replies, kissing Cady’s forehead. Cady nods and enters the room further, turning to a desk just inside the door.

“What are these little cubes?”

“I have no idea,” Janis replies. “Nobody here to miss them, they could be useful.”

Cady manages to stuff all of them into her various pockets and under her skirts to take home. Janis chuckles affectionately. She takes a few more documents explaining more about Mithras, and a special curved, golden knife used in bull sacrifices.

“I think that’s everything of interest here,” Janis says, dashing back out the door and over to a series of very rickety walkways leading to various other areas of the site. She heads straight first, down a winding sort of path to a large fresco.

“Sarkisian, please be careful,” Cady calls anxiously from above. “We have no way of knowing when someone was last here, these paths could collapse at any moment.”

“I’m fine, darling,” Janis calls back from below. She points to the fresco she’s standing on. “It’s the cyclops. And Vulcan, at a forge.”

“Interesting,” Cady says, sounding as if she couldn’t care less. “Now come back.”

Janis does, heading up a slightly crumbled marble staircase back to Cady’s level. Cady walks around on solid ground to meet her and they both head over to some rigs. Janis grabs some rope resting on a crate.

“What is that for?”

“Not a clue. You never know,” Janis replies with a shrug. “Help me with this, there’s something down here.”

Cady helps tug on a rope pulley, bringing up a toolbox from the bottom of one of the rigs. Janis takes and pockets a sort of trowel, but leaves the rest of the archaeological instruments where they are.

Cady looks very relieved as Janis heads over to what remains of a building, instead of darting around some very deep holes. At least the ground is solid over here, and things are less likely to collapse on their heads.

Janis bends over a crate resting on the floor and pulls out a few construction hooks. Cady grows even more concerned than she was earlier when she pockets them as well.

“Who are these meant to be, Janis?” She asks of some nearby statues. She knows she’ll never be able to stop her partner being reckless. Janis follows her out of the building and over to them.

“That’s Neptune, god of the sea,” Janis says, pointing to the one on the far left. “And that’s Minerva.”

“And the middle two?”

“I’d guess Venus and… someone,” Janis replies. “I’ve not read up on Roman mythology in quite a while.”

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Cady teases, turning back around. “The great Janis Sarkisian doesn’t know something.”

“There’s a great many things I don’t know,” Janis replies casually, examining a statue of a bull they can now see. “For example, what happened to this leg?”

“Weather, I would guess, surely?” Cady replies, heading to her side. The hind left leg of the bull is disconnected from the hip.

“Most probably, yes,” Janis agrees. “Well done, love. This way.”

“Oh, not more of these dreadful walkways,” Cady pleads as Janis steps onto yet another rickety path. She follows Janis down this one, for… safety.

“A site like this would have had a hundred people working, and they all crossed these with no issue,” Janis comforts yet again. “I have good reflexes and I know how to fall, darling. I’m fine.”

Cady nods shakily as they reach the bottom and look around. Janis dashes over to an area she observes to have been covered with mud. Intentionally, and recently. She pulls out the trowel she ‘borrowed’ earlier and scrapes it away in chunks, revealing another fresco.

“The frigidarium,” Janis pants, pointing to the label. “At the baths. Someone covered this up intentionally.”

“Why?”

“You ask a great many questions I cannot answer, my dear Heron,” Janis says. “I’ll have to investigate there. Come along back up, I want to check this other shed.”

“What is this railway for?” Cady asks once they’ve followed the wood walkways back to the surface.

“Removing excess rubble,” Janis replies, carefully crossing over to the area of the shed. Yet again, the door has been left open. She heads to some shelves directly across from the door, and finds a drafted letter to Sir Gregory Pitkin’s boss, complaining of his behavior. “Seems Sir Rodney had a remarkable amount of control over his archaeological sites.”

“So Sir Gregory has motive,” Cady says.

“He does indeed,” Janis hums concernedly. “Ooh, a crossbow.”

“No,” Cady says immediately. It’s been disassembled, thankfully for her. “You’re bad enough with a simple pistol.”

“Oh, pish posh,” Janis scoffs. “I’m an excellent shot.”

“Need I remind you how many pigs’ carcasses we had to harpoon before you got it correct?” Cady says.

“And need I remind you that I only missed four out of ten vases? Blindfolded?” Janis retaliates.

“I’m still finding bits of china in my bedsheets,” Cady grumbles. “You had to do that in our flat? You nearly shot me.”

“Nonsense, I was aiming for the vases,” Janis tuts. “Anyway, one last thing.”

“Thank heavens,” Cady huffs, following Janis to a small platform over the river. A bulletin board of sorts sits to the left, and Janis heads to observe it. Another map of the site and a schematic of a gastraphetes are tacked up.

“They used the crossbow and gastraphetes for sieges,” Janis explains.

“How lovely,” Cady says. “Have you finished?”

“Yes, my dear, we’re done,” Janis says, taking her hand to lead her off site and back to the cab.

————-

Cady refuses to let Janis go that night. Janis allows her to cling to her and cuddle close as they lie beside one another in bed.

“What are you thinking about?” Janis murmurs gently, stroking the backs of her fingers over Cady’s cheeks.

“Nothing important,” Cady whispers back, pressing her face into Janis’ neck.

“Everything about you is important to me,” Janis insists quietly, twisting a few of Cady’s long curls around her fingers. “You’ve been acting strangely lately, I just want to make sure you’re alright, my darling.”

Cady nods against her with a quiet sigh. “I am. I’m more than alright. I just… ever since we’ve been courting, I’m… realizing just how dangerous this all is. I’ve nearly lost you twice in this case alone, and we’re still nowhere near solving it. Everything we do is so risky.

“And as much as I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, you getting injured, or worse… I feel that asking you to stop would be somehow worse. Everything we do is so ingrained into who you are. If I made you retire you’d resent me forever as we lived out our boring, miserable lives. I’m simply trying to appreciate what the risk brings with it. But I’m not quite sure how yet.”

Janis blinks a few times as Cady finishes speaking, trying to process everything she’s just said. After a few moments, she takes a breath to speak. “It is a rather delicate balance. And I do have to admit the danger of it all gives me a rush like no other; the thrill of the chase is a key part of my desire. But, I’ve stepped back slightly. The cases I’m willing to take now are significantly less extreme than the ones I used to go for.

“Because I have… a purpose, now. In you. I have more than a companion. I have someone I provide for, someone I care for, and care about greatly. I have… I have a future in you, that I don’t have in my work. I have something to strive for. I have a life with you, and that’s something I value above anything. I don’t want you worrying for my safety like this, I hate seeing you so anxious. I have you to return to at the end of each day, I take great care to make sure I do. It may not seem it, but I take much time to work out any potential consequences of risks and ways I could be injured.”

“I believe you,” Cady nods. “I’m just… I don’t know. I know we’ve known one another for so many years, but I somehow feel that I’ve only just gotten you. I have what I dreamed of for so long. I’m afraid to lose it.”

“You won’t,” Janis promises. “Not for a long time. I’ll always come back to you.”

“I love you,” Cady replies, cuddling back into her spot.

“I love you too, my darling.”

Cady is silent for a long time, just breathing in her love and enjoying the moment. But she pipes up again when Janis shifts slightly and wraps an arm around her waist. “You said you want a future with me. Do you mean that you’ll retire?”

“Eventually, yes,” Janis agrees. “I’d be willing to say I’ll have to at some point. My body will eventually begin to deteriorate, along with my mind. Or maybe one day I’ll decide the lifestyle isn’t for me anymore. But I’ve been blessed with a rare opportunity for a life of excitement that I have no desire to leave any time soon.”

“I can’t imagine you retired, you’ll still be running me ragged in our old age,” Cady chuckles. “What do you think we’ll do?”

“I’ve always liked Sussex,” Janis murmurs. “The countryside. And… erm…”

“What? You’re all pink,” Cady teases, kissing Janis’ warm cheek. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“I quite like bees,” Janis says quietly, flushing a spectacular shade of scarlet. “I’d like to keep a few hives. Make honey.”

“You like bees?” Cady asks, rolling Janis onto her back and hovering over her. Janis nods with a slight pout that Cady leans down to kiss away. “Why are you so embarrassed? I think it’s sweet. I would never have expected you to enjoy something like that.”

“That’s why,” Janis replies quietly. “Everyone thinks I’m just… interested in death and the macabre. Something as cute as bees doesn’t fit my reputation.”

“I don’t want your reputation,” Cady says. “I want to know you. Who you really are. Tell me about your bees, my love.”

“Er… okay,” Janis says. Cady presses back against her as Janis starts rattling off facts she knows about her favorite species. They both drift off tangled in each other, dreaming about some lovely beehives in the countryside.

————-

Janis and Cady return to the Roman baths the next morning. Mr. Phillips greets them as they enter, and eagerly informs Janis that the rubble has been cleared from the corridor to the frigidarium, as Janis had requested. Cady seems particularly displeased that Janis wants to enter the room that very nearly collapsed on her, but she just remembers what Janis told her yesterday and tries to calm herself.

Cady follows Janis down the hall and into a rather large bathing room. It’s overgrown and dilapidated, but still very beautiful. A series of pillars outline the large bath, and Janis approaches the one closest to them when she notices a symbol etched into the base. She traces her fingers around it and pushes, revealing it to be a sort of mechanism.

“Heron, could you mark this symbol down?” She asks, upon seeing there to be a sort of key-shaped symbol drawn that was previously hidden by the button mechanism. Cady carefully copies it down in her notebook and follows as Janis moves to the other pillars.

Nearly every statue turns out to have one of the mechanisms, but only three have symbols hidden inside. Cady watches as Janis seems to align the symbols in her mind and suddenly dashes over to a bust tucked against a wall. Janis rotates it, causing a great rumbling to echo through the room as a door opens.

“Incredible,” Cady breathes. Janis grins at her slightly and takes her hand, leading her towards the door. The door leads to a small room, with an open trapdoor. “Not more of this.”

Janis takes hold of the rope hanging into the door and climbs down. Cady follows anxiously, nearly falling until Janis grabs her around the waist and helps her down.

“What is this place?”

“I am still unsure,” Janis hums, looking around at where they’ve found themselves. “But everything points to it being the last place visited by Sir Rodney. I have reason to believe we’re approaching the end of this case, my dear Heron.”

“Thank heavens for that,” Cady grumbles. She points to the corner nearest the door, where several items lay apparently forgotten. “What could those be for?”

Janis heads over to investigate, taking and lighting the lantern to use. “A broken glass negative, and… an ice maker.”

“Why would Sir Rodney have brought such a device here?”

“With any luck we shall know soon, my darling. Only one way forward,” Janis replies.

“Or we could go back,” Cady mumbles unhappily, following her companion. “Whole place apt to crumble any minute, and all. Oh, of course not.”

“Look at this,” Janis says, pointing to one of the frescos on the wall. She’s either not heard Cady or chosen to ignore her complaints. Most probably the latter. “Mithras again.”

“It is beautiful,” Cady agrees. It’s clearly ancient and faded, but she can still see the fine details. Janis has already moved on to the next fresco. “A ladder?”

“Or a hierarchy,” Janis nods. Cady carefully writes down all of the symbols in the order they go in, just in case. “Right, this way.”

“Oh god,” Cady shudders when they enter the next room. It appears to be a catacombs of sorts. The walls are lined with mummies, and several large pillars outline the center passage through it. To Cady’s horror, large sections of each pillar are constructed from human bones and skulls.

“Heron, come look at this,” Janis calls, crouched against one of the far walls to look at something. Cady heads over and finds her to be examining yet another skeleton. “See his shoe. I’d date it to be medieval at best. This man was a tomb raider.”

“But look at his eye,” Cady says with a slight shudder. “His orbit is broken. This man met a rather similar fate to Sir Rodney. How dreadful.”

“‘By the eye he was punished for he saw what he was not worthy’,” Janis recites, recalling a transcript she’d read earlier. “Hm. Well, that’s enough of that.”

Cady gratefully leaves the corpse and follows Janis as she heads to examine the large pillars. They have small gaps in them, which contain brushwood. Janis lights the three she can, which causes shadows in certain shapes to be cast on the floor. But one of the pillars has collapsed.

“There should be a plate here,” Janis says. “Someone has removed… oh! Heron, wait here!”

“Wait, I don’t-“ Cady stutters, but Janis thrusts the lantern at her and runs off. Cady crosses her arms and tries not to think about where she is. It’s not as if she’s not well acquainted with death and corpses, but she still doesn’t care to keep their company.

Luckily for her, Janis is back within five minutes. There was a deafening metallic clang and then a small series of thuds, but Janis seems fine. She re-enters the catacombs carrying the metal plate she found in Sir Rodney’s office.

“Are you alright?” Cady asks as Janis dusts herself off slightly. “I heard noises.”

“Fell off the rope this time, I’m fine,” Janis replies quietly. So Janis had fallen through the trapdoor. Of course. “Over here, my love.”

Cady follows with the lantern as Janis heads back to the collapsed pillar. Janis holds up the plate to the same height as the others and closes her eyes. After a few seconds she opens them again, and heads to the shadows on the floor.

“A trident, a bull, and a bridge. Leads to Mithras,” Janis says, pointing to each. Cady can’t see the bridge, since that’s the one missing, but she trusts her partner.

“The dig site,” Cady realizes. “The statue of Neptune, and then the bull. The bridge must be missing.”

Janis looks at her with wide eyes, cupping her face gently and smashing their lips together. Cady gasps quietly before responding in kind.

“You have much more use than I think anyone gives you credit for,” Janis murmurs. “Another case I may never have solved without you.”

Cady smiles at her and kisses her again. “Can we please leave this place now?”

Janis chuckles and nods. “Yes, come along, my dear.”

“Thank goodness.”

————-

“Darling?” Janis calls from her analysis table the next afternoon. Cady pops her head out from her bedroom.

“Yes, Honeybee?”

“Honeybee?” Janis squeaks, flushing bright red. Cady chuckles and heads over to her.

“You said you like bees, I thought it was sweet,” she murmurs, kissing just beneath Janis’ ear. “Do you not like it?”

“No!” Janis says immediately. “No, I-I like it. Just… maybe not while I’m working.”

“Understood. What do you need, my love?” Cady laughs gently.

“I’d like to work out the purpose of these cubes,” Janis says, showing off the twelve cubes they had found the last time they were at the archaeological dig. “I thought it would be rather like a jigsaw puzzle, we could work on it together.”

“It does look that way,” Cady hums, nodding and picking up a few. “Come along.”

Janis grabs the rest and follows, sitting with Cady in front of the fireplace. Cady starts sorting them into groups based on where the notches are to make it easier for them. Janis knows she could have solved it on her own, probably in much less time, but this gives her an excuse to do something almost peaceful with her partner.

So, they sit and puzzle, chatting about things Janis used to find dull. With Cady even the most aimless of conversation is suddenly exciting and new. She hopes it stays this way. About half an hour later, the object is complete.

“It’s a mould,” Janis says. “Huh.”

“What does it make?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Janis says, delicately moving it back to her analysis table. Cady watches as she makes a quick dry plaster solution and pours it into the mould. A few moments later, when it’s solidified, Janis cracks the cubes apart to reveal…

“This is very similar to the knife that killed Sir Rodney,” Cady says in concern, as Janis holds out a small knife with a curved blade.

“You should not jump to any hasty conclusions, my darling,” Janis chides gently. “I’ll need to run some more tests. You up for another puzzle?”

“Always,” Cady grins, flipping the knife around a few times before resting it on the table. Janis lays out the pieces of the broken glass negative they had found while exploring beneath the frigidarium. This goes a bit quicker, since they can see where the pieces should fit together more easily.

“Could you process this with your old equipment?”

Cady nods, and carefully transfers everything to a tray to keep it together properly. She’s able to transfer it to photo paper, and gives the product to Janis to develop. Janis carefully prepares the proper chemicals and swipes them over the photograph. Cady comes to peek at what has been revealed.

“This is Sir Rodney, and another archaeologist,” Janis says. “Eating ice-cream in front of the Pyramids of Giza, in Egypt.”

“‘Ice-cream in the desert, we are indebted to the Romans who developed the technique’,” Cady reads from a note in the corner. “So salt and ice can be used to create ice-cream. That’s quite remarkable!”

“Indeed,” Janis murmurs in concern. “Thank you for your assistance, my dear.”

“Of course! Do you have anything else you need me for at the moment?” Cady chirps. Janis looks at the photograph once again.

“Actually… yes,” she hums. “Could you go purchase some ice?”

“Ice?”

“And salt?”

“Er… okay,” Cady replies. It’s far from the strangest thing Janis has asked her to acquire. Maybe Janis wants to make ice cream too. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Thank you darling,” Janis replies, kissing Cady goodbye as she tugs on her coat and heads out the door.

In the meantime, Janis runs a different experiment. She cleans out the pot she used to make her plaster solution carefully, and prepares her gas burner. She melts the lump of silver they had found in the brazier in the sauna, and pours it into the mould. It’s a near perfect fit. Janis pulls out the silver knife and stares at it, flipping it around in her hands. One possible explanation solved.

—-

Cady comes crashing through the door roughly an hour later, brandishing a small sack of salt and a brick of ice. She drops both at her feet carefully and is panting slightly as she unbuttons her coat once more. “Ice is… heavier… than I remember.”

“Are you alright?” Janis chuckles, kissing her in greeting and picking up her materials. Cady nods and follows her back over to her work table.

“What are you planning with it?”

“Ice knife.”

“What?”

“I’m going to make an ice knife,” Janis replies. She places the brick of ice in a wooden bucket and grabs her chisel, and pours the salt into another smaller container. The mould is placed into the middle of the ice cream machine they had found in the catacombs, and filled with water. Janis uses her chisel to produce some ice chips and surrounds the mould. “Could you pour a bit of the salt in?”

Cady carefully covers the ice chips with the salt, and they repeat the process until the temperature is low and steady enough to have frozen the water solid. Janis carefully pulls the mould out and splits it open once more to reveal the weapon.

“Either way, it was rather ingenious to create a weapon that could dissolve at the scene of the crime,” Cady says, picking up the silver knife.

“Yes, quite,” Janis hums. “All that’s left is to find Mithras.”

“Must we?” Cady whines.

“Regretfully, yes,” Janis chuckles. “Remember what we spoke of, dearest. We’ve been through many a case together and come out the other side. Now we shall do so hand in hand.”

Cady grins weakly at that and cuddles into her shoulder. They don’t have to investigate until tomorrow. She’s going to take all the time to cuddle her partner she can get.

————-

Janis heads back to Scotland Yard the next morning, wanting to gather as much information about Mithras as she can from the suspects before she attempts to go searching herself. Blinkhorn goes first.

“Hello again. What are you able to tell me about Mithras?” Janis begins, standing across the table from him. Blinkhorn lights up.

“Oh, so much,” he says eagerly. “It was the focus of our work. Why do you ask?”

“Were you searching for the Golden Knife?”

“Ah, I see you are an amateur,” Blinkhorn chuckles. Janis furrows her brow but lets him talk. “Yes, the Golden Knife was our… Holy Grail, so to speak. It is said that it bears the only explanation of the ritual of the Cult of Mithras.”

“I believe I read something about immortality?” Janis questions. Blinkhorn nods.

“A simple myth. It is said that the knife would provide immortality, to only the worthy one. And yet it is cursed, and it would kill you if you were not initiated.”

“And did you expect to find the Knife at the baths?”

“Well… Sir Rodney believed it might be. Did you see the knife representations around? They are extraordinary,” Blinkhorn sighs. “Oh, it’s a tragedy that he has passed away. And taken all his secrets with him. As soon as I am released I shall continue my researches. In his memory.”

“How kind,” Janis says dryly. “Thank you for your time.”

Blinkhorn is then exchanged for Pitkin, who grumbles the whole way across the hallway to the interrogation room, and looks as if he’s ready to spit on Janis when she sits across from him once more. “I understand that the paintings at the baths are focused on Mithras?”

“Yes. They are what make the place so remarkable,” Pitkin replies angrily.

“Are they why Sir Rodney came here?”

“He believed an important ritual item, the Golden Knife, was hidden somewhere around thr area of the baths,” Pitkin says. “I admit it would be wonderful, if it were true.”

“You are not concerned by the… reputation, of this artifact?” Janis asks, leaning back in her chair as if they’re simply having a casual conversation. Pitkin chuckles sardonically.

“What, you mean the curse? Before someone is dead, it is a blessing. After they die, it becomes a curse. Ha.”

Cady raises her eyebrows at Janis as Pitkin is exchanged for Garrow. He still doesn’t seem particularly well. But Cady supposes that spending several days in a cell would have significant effects on just about anyone.

Janis sits across from him and watches as he begins rocking slightly, the way he did the first time. “Could you tell me about the Cult of Mithras?”

Garrow snaps his head up to look at her, his eyes wide and bloodshot. “No! There is nothing to say! We are not the worthy ones.”

“But Sir Rodney believed that he was?” Janis asks, leaning forwards slightly.

“He was-was wrong! I have visions,” Garrow cries. “The Golden Knife, the-the mummy! Oh, it is all my fault!”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Garrow,” Janis insists. Garrow takes his phial of medication from his pocket and swallows a portion just before he is escorted back to the cell.

Now to find Mithras themselves.

————

Cady pouts slightly as they pull up to the archaeological dig once more, but she smiles as Janis carefully takes her hand to help her out of the cab.

“Would you be so kind as to hold these, my dear?” Janis asks, picking up the ropes and hooks she had left near the gate on their last visit. Cady holds out her arms, and Janis rests them in her hold. “Thank you. This way, we shan’t be terribly long.”

“We had better not,” Cady grumbles, following Janis to the far cabin near the river. Janis rubs her hands together excitedly when she gets to use the crossbow. It has been deconstructed, but Janis pieces everything together expertly in less than five minutes.

Janis carefully ties the ropes to the hooks, and loads the first into the gastraphetes. From the platform over the water, she takes aim at a pillar about fifty feet away.

“Stand back, my love,” Janis orders. “I am not well practiced in this exercise. Yet.”

Cady stands off to the side anxiously, watching as Janis holds her breath and fires. She misses the first time, but makes contact with the leftmost ring on her second shot. She ties the other end of the rope to the platform and reloads.

Once all three of the rings have been hooked and the ropes tied, Janis carefully tests the strength of them and beckons Cady back over.

“Would you care to go first?”

“No,” Cady says anxiously. “But I will. Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Not at all. Ready?” Janis asks, taking her hand and helping her onto their makeshift bridge. “Hold right to the sides and don’t look down. I’ll be right behind you.”

Cady listens, gripping the rope so tightly her knuckles turn white. She carefully inches her way across the rapid river below, until she reaches the far side. Janis follows, and accepts Cady’s hand to be pulled onto the platform. They head into the door that had been previously hidden to them, and down yet another trapdoor.

“Are we in the hidden temple?” Cady asks.

“I am not sure. We should be careful,” Janis replies, pulling out and lighting her lantern once again. She holds it in her left hand and Cady’s hand with her right, and they set off.

A staircase takes them down still further, until they enter an almost circular room, with several ways out. A symbol marks the floor and above each door. They look strangely familiar.

“Did you bring your notebook, my darling?”

“Always,” Cady replies, pulling it from her pocket. Janis takes it and flips through pages of various things until she finds the drawing Cady made of the hierarchy fresco beneath the frigidarium. The symbol of the door they just came through is one listed on the bottom level. Time to work their way up.

“Stay close to me, we should tread carefully,” Janis says. Cady nods anxiously and squeezes her hand. Janis looks back up from the book and picks a corridor, hoping desperately that her theory is correct and she doesn’t get them horrifically lost.

They head through a few tunnels, getting about a third of the way up the ladder in the drawing. One of the rooms they enter has every path blocked by a gate. A pillar sits in the middle of the room, with three columns and several stones on it.

“What do we do?”

“What we always do. Solve another puzzle,” Janis replies, carefully picking up a stone. When she rests it on a column, it sinks in slightly. Cady helps choose which stones should go where, until all three are at the same level. When they get it correct, the gates lift with a thunderous rumbling. “Back to it.”

Janis continues following the drawing, leading them through the doors with the proper symbols. Just at the end, they reach a long staircase up.

“Where are we?” Cady asks, looking around. A series of metal gates surround them, along with several small waterfalls. Directly across from them is a statue.

“The temple of Mithras,” Janis murmurs, approaching it.

“The golden knife,” Cady breathes, pointing to his hand. “But how to get it?”

“We shall find a way,” Janis answers, bending down to inspect a broken lamp. “This is not old, the oil is still fresh.”

“Perhaps Sir Rodney left it?” Cady inquires.

“No, I do not think so,” Janis says, standing once more. “He passed no further than the catacombs under the frigidarium.”

“So that means…”

“The murderer left this lamp,” Janis confirms. She heads back to the center of the room and looks around, spying a few levers on the wall inside one of the gates. “Wait here, my love, I believe this to be a two-person job.”

Cady listens, and waits for Janis to call instructions to her. Janis twists the lever in front of her, which locks her in but opens a way for Cady to go.

“What opened?” Janis calls.

“A gate, here,” Cady calls back. “Shall I go through?”

“Please,” Janis says. Cady goes through. “Have you any levers?”

“Yes, there’s one here,” Cady replies.

“Turn that,” Janis says. Cady does, holding it until she hears Janis say to let go. They continue this, calling instructions to one another and testing levers, until a way opens for Janis to escape, and Cady has a lever to open the gate in front of the statue of Mithras.

Janis approaches and carefully takes it, before she heads back to her series of levers and gates to free her partner. There’s a staircase out to the surface that has been blocked by yet another gate. They coach each other through until it’s opened, and escape into the daylight hand in hand, as Janis promised.

—-

Janis goes into her mind palace once they’re back in a cab. Cady has learned over the many years of their relationship that speaking to her in this state is effectively useless. Janis is connecting many dots in her mind, and so focused that she’s shut away all external stimulation.

Cady watches as Janis’ eyes move under her eyelids, her brain firing off rapid signals as she pieces together clues and information to conclude the case. Just as they pull back onto Baker Street, her eyes snap open and she gives a coy grin.

“Have you got it?” Cady asks, despite already knowing the answer.

“Have I indeed,” Janis replies, taking her hand and running back up to their flat.

————-

Janis carefully rests the Golden Knife on the wooden table.

Blinkhorn looks up at her in shock, gently taking it between his fingers to examine. “Is this… the Golden Knife? How did you find it?”

“I am also rather fond of digging, Mr. Blinkhorn,” Janis replies casually. “One never knows what one might find. On occasion, exceptional rarities such as this. The thrill of the chase, one’s enhanced reputation. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Are-are you suggesting that-“

“I am not suggesting anything, Mr. Blinkhorn. I know,” Janis replies. “You found the knife. You are an intelligent man. The ‘ghost’ knife shall remain one of the most ingenious creations I have seen in my career, I do assure you.”

“Wait, are you accusing me of the murder?” Blinkhorn says in alarm. “No! I-I deny it!”

“There is no use in denying it, Mr. Blinkhorn. I know the truth,” Janis says calmly. “You had no choice. Because it is you who discovered the Golden Knife, and therefore you who must be the murderer. Sir Rodney was prepared to take all the credit for the remarkable discovery, when in fact it was your work.

“He would have destroyed you, to ensure the truth was never revealed. But I uphold the truth. And I shall tell it.”

“What-what do you mean? That you will spare me?”

“What I mean is that everyone deserves a second chance,” Janis says. “Someone very important to me taught me that. I shall be following your career with utmost interest. Farewell.”

“Fare-farewell, Ms. Sarkisian,” Blinkhorn stutters.

————-

“Sarkisian, I am afraid I don’t understand how you’ve come to this conclusion,” Inspector Hubbard says, sitting across from her in the living room while Cady tends to the fire. She also turns around to look at her partner, curious to see how she solved the case.

“Shall I begin with the method?” Janis asks, clearly relishing in the opportunity to brag. Some things never change. Both of her companions nod, so she begins. “I had only to observe the pool of blood around the body. You surely must have noticed it to be significantly thinner than typical, and that it had not coagulated properly. A simple analysis revealed it to be heavily diluted with water. The steam in the room at the time would not have been sufficient enough to cause dilution of that degree.

“I admit, I didn’t know what the cause would be, until we discovered the ice cream maker in the catacombs. The killer produced an ice knife there, and stored it in the bucket of champagne until it was the proper time. Once they were in the steam room, he killed Sir Rodney, and the heat caused it to melt rapidly.”

“Incredible,” Damian says. “I would’ve thought it to be the silver you found.”

“I had only to speak to Mr. Garrow to dismiss that conclusion. He is a superstitious fellow, and he put the silver in the brazier for spiritual protection,” Janis explains.

“And how did you deduce it to be Blinkhorn? That’s the bit I’m missing.” Cady asks. Damian looks back and forth between his companions, noticing the way they’re looking at one another. He smiles slightly. They deserve happiness together.

“Because he is, given a significant amount of critical thought, the only suspect that would have made sense. Garrow was not of sound mind, he was too weak to have carried out such an elaborate and well planned crime. Pitkin, on the other hand, would not have served to gain anything from Sir Rodney’s death. He had no way of knowing whether the murder would have damaged the baths’ reputation, and he was not working closely with Sir Rodney to begin with. He had slight motive, but compared to Blinkhorn’s it’s vastly insignificant.

“Blinkhorn had made one of the most astounding archaeological discoveries of our era, and Sir Rodney was prepared to trample him to take the credit for it. So, he had no choice but to get rid of Sir Rodney to defend his own career. He chose a rather appropriate fate for him, I must say.”

“Well, I thank you for bringing this case to a close, and for revealing to us Sir Rodney’s true nature. We shall be keeping a close eye on Blinkhorn regardless, but he has been released,” Damian says, standing to leave. Janis follows him to see him out. “And on a personal note, my congratulations. It’s about time. I wish you all the happiness.”

“Maybe you’ll make a fine detective yet,” Janis chuckles. “My thanks, Damian. Farewell.”

Damian tips his hat and takes his leave. Janis returns to Cady and pulls her into an embrace.

“Another one for your stories,” she murmurs, looking into Cady’s blue eyes. “And one with several fond memories for me.”

“Most definitely,” Cady says, threading her arms around Janis’ neck and pressing up to kiss her. “I regret I can’t share more details of the events of this one. But I shall get to work on it immediately.”

“Maybe not immediately,” Janis coaxes. “I, for one, am quite tired.”

“Maybe not immediately,” Cady agrees with a chuckle. “Come to bed, Honeybee.”

“Always, my love.”

Until our next adventure.

----------

hope you enjoyed the adventures of... sherlockisian?? and watsheron??

anyway, back to modern day, I'm finishing up a few things for this blog (giving it a fresh coat of paint so to speak) and then ill have some exciting things coming up!! for me anyway, i hope y'all are into it too. just keep an eye out for things coming over the next few days!!

as always, thank you so much for reading, and ill see you all next week!!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #mean girls on broadway

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purplehanfu · 2 years

Text

KinnPorsche: Episode 4

notes: Spoilers! TW: sexual content Ep 03 /// TOC /// Ep 5

In this episode: a level of sex and nudity I would have expected in episode nine or ten, not here in episode four. We get a lot of cheese- both the over-the-top emotional kind and the dairy product kind. Porsche wonders if he truly knows himself:

The Aftermath

Porsche wakes up in Pete's bed, with no memory of the previous night. Later Porsche runs into Kinn. Kinn asks some leading questions about their kiss the night before but Porsche misinterprets and thinks he's asking about the herbal liquor.

Tankhun wakes up under the rug in his room, starts to cry and insist that his pounding headache is the work of ghosts. Porsche educates him otherwise:

They all head down to the in-house day spa (seriously, is this a gangster HQ or a cruise ship?). After a massage, Porsche decides to relax in the sauna. Kinn shows up and asks him about his relationship status, but Porsche informs him that he is a wolfpack of one.

If he manspreads any more aggressively, his hip will pop out of joint.

Porsche is then overwhelmed by the heat and passes out on Kinn's lap.

During lunch in the cruise ship's specialty restaurant, Vegas shows up and insists on eating at the bodyguard table. Kinn sees this and quickly heads over to keep an eye on the situation. Vegas tries to annoy Kinn by attempting to poach Porsche who is clearly made uncomfortable by the attention. The menace of this scene is then undercut by the introduction of this week's sponsored product:

Cheese

The internet tells me that a person in Thailand consumes on average .2kg (.44 lb) of cheese per year, while the average American consumes 18.2 kg (40.2 lbs) per year and honestly that number seems low I say as I type this while literally eating cheese curds straight from the bag.

Are you more impressed with my cutting edge setup of Paint and Notepad, or the fact that I scored cheese curds on sale for $1?

After we learn that cheese makes a great ramen topper, Vegas continues needling Kinn, much to Kinn's ire. Tankhun to the rescue, hitting Vegas in the back of the head with a tray and telling him to get out.

Later, Porsche delivers a bag to Kinn's room and takes the opportunity to do a little snooping. Unfortunately Kinn and his company for the evening return unexpectedly. Porsche hides behind the drapes and peeps.

He's caught immediately.

Porsche confronts the bodyguard who sent him on this errand. "Are you upset you found out he's gay?" asks the bodyguard whose name I should probably look up because he's become a recurring character. Porsche gives the following answer which Kinn overhears:

Did This Awaken Something In Me?

Porsche confides in Pete that he had no idea that Kinn was gay. Suddenly Porsche remembers the kiss on the dock.

You will have the opportunity to revisit this question later on in this episode. Spoiler alert: the answer is yes.

Whatever Happened to Porsche's Younger Brother Chay?

Younger brother Chay seems to be on a college visit.

I'm sorry but the rules of Thai dramas clearly state you must be an engineering major

The music department presents Kim, a former student who, pardon my Gen X-ness, is giving us some serious Jeff Buckley/Jordan Catalano vibes and who tells the kids assembled what it's like to pursue a career in music.

It's all about hard work, being born into a wealthy family and being extremely good looking. Chay gets a trivia question right, gets an autograph and will probably get a new boyfriend. Later we see Kim reviewing a dossier of info about Porsche. Turns out he's investigating something to do with the family and he has the cork board full of clues to prove it.

who is Pepe Silvia?!

A 10 on the Mohs Scale

Porsche and the other bodyguards accompany Kinn to a charity diamond auction. Vegas show ups for some snide comments, then moves to his own table. Nick and John from DuranDuran are back! I like these guys.

They settle in to watch the bidding on some moissanite necklaces. Putting Porsche near the bar is always a bad idea, but this time it isn't his fault. The bartender slips something in his water. He becomes woozy.

When he heads to the men's room, he is kidnapped, tied up and deposited on a random hotel bed. Meanwhile at the auction, Kinn and Vegas get in a bidding war over the final necklace. Kinn wins and then notices Porsche is missing. He and the bodyguards start to search for him. Back in the room, Vegas looms over Porsche and says "A guy like me doesn't force anyone" which carries very little weight coming from the person who just kidnapped you. Luckily Kinn and the bodyguards find the room before anything happens.

Porsche immediately vomits on his rescuers. Instead of calling a doctor, Kinn dismisses the other bodyguards and strips them both down to take a shower. Porsche gets flirty and handsy. Kinn kisses him- 1. That's not appropriate, and 2. it's disgusting because this guy just threw up.

The two get completely naked and intimate against the window of the bathroom. BTW, whose room is this? Is someone going to come back later and wonder why there are sweaty manprints all over the window?

next week’s sponsored product should be Windex

The episode ends with Vegas standing naked in front of a full length mirror in his Pilates studio as he smokes a cigarette and recounts his brief moments with Porsche.

Ep 3 /// TOC /// Ep 5

Master list of all recaps

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche episode recaps

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kafkasgods · 3 years

Text

adam hudson and the quest of athena

tw suicide, abuse, eye horror/injury, physical punishment, fire, death

[[SCENE ONE]]

Even when Adam trekked on at dawn, leaving Epinieos behind, he had no clue what was in store for him. Athena hadn’t felt inclined to tell him anything beyond the fact that she had something long term in mind for him and where to meet her for more information. It wasn’t hard to find her considering the forest beyond the borders didn’t have any other olive trees. When he found the tree, he approached, slowing his steps, waiting for the goddess to appear. Adam paused when she didn’t. There was a rustle behind him and he turned, hand on his cross, ready to pull out a sword.

A dark-haired guy around his age, maybe older, stepped from behind from branches he was swatting away. “Holy shit,” he muttered as he brushed the debris from his jacket. Apparently he was too caught up in himself to notice Adam, and when he did, his brows set downwards in confusion. “Hey, you fixed my car.”

Adam gave a slow nod. “Probably.” Trying to place the guy was a moot effort. “Are you here for something?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going on the quest with you unless you’re here for no goddamn reason.” The guy was a bit on the rough side, but he was straightforward enough and Adam could work with that. “I’m Murphy Fiennes, son of Aphrodite. You?” The pomade in Murphy’s hair that held his well-done curls was enough to let Adam know that.

“Adam Hudson, son of Ares, legacy of Hephaestus. Nice to meet you.” Idly, Adam wondered why Murphy hadn’t been surprised to see him.

Before he could mull on the thought, Athena stood before him. The form she was in was different from the last one, but he knew it was her. The steely gray eyes were the same. “Adam. Murphy.” She addressed cooly. Adam’s back straightened at her attention, while Murphy raised a hand in greeting. [1:24 PM] “I appreciate you both being here and accepting my request of you despite the conflict of your own parentage. That in mind, what I ask has very much to do with the helm.”

If Adam were a dog, his ears would have been pricked forward at the words that had left her lips.

“Sides have been drawn, naturally, but the problem is that who is on my side isn’t as veracious as I hope.” The eyes she had on Adam somehow made him feel a weight compress against his chest. Was that just something she did innately? “I would like you both to attend to Hephaestus' Forge.” Finally, she turned her gaze from them and stared at the olives above. “I have reason to believe he might have stolen the helm to set me up.”

“Why would he do that?” Interrupting Athena, Murphy had every ounce of arrogance any good-looking person had and it was bothering Adam more than usual.

“My half-brother despises Ares more than he cares for me. But that is none of your concern. All I require of you two is to search his domain for the helm or see if he has anything to do with it.”

For the first time, Adam spoke. “You want me to spy on my grandfather?” Nothing about him said espionage. It felt traitorous.

Athena’s eyes dropped to him. “Who are you loyal to, Adam Hudson? If it is not to me, then why are you here?”

“I am,” Adam stressed. “I’m goin—”

“Then if you are, you would see that I do not ask stupid things for stupid reasons. You are not spying on Hephaestus, you are clearing his name. Just as you are trying to clear your father’s name. Isn’t that the reason you are really here?”

The force she spoke with was hard to argue or even defend himself against. Adam swallowed, choosing to remain unmoving. It was enough of an answer for her. [1:24 PM] “Good. Despite being a child of Ares, Hephaestus will take to you as you are his grandchild. And Murphy, your charmspeak has always been a certain weakness against him. If either of you are caught, you must not tell him of whom your quest had originated from. Neither of you, I imagine, are keen on the war escalating by your hand and that would no doubt happen if he discovers I sent you.”

“Got it.” Murphy saluted.

Adam didn’t hesitate this time. “I swear on the River Styx.”

For once, Athena seemed to be pleased with him and she wished him good luck before disappearing.

Setting off on their journey now, Murphy lightly elbowed Adam. “I can’t believe you had to one up me in front of Athena.”

“I can’t believe you interrupted her.”

Murphy grinned and took a larger stride than Adam, setting out to lead. “Well, anyways! Where even is Heph’s Forge?”

The answer amused Adam as the crestfallen look on Murphy was predictable. “Under a volcano.”

[[SCENE TWO]]

It took four days to get to the workshop, which was actually great time. A few monsters had come out of the woodwork for them, but between him and Murphy, they were holding their own well. It surprised Adam how quick he took to his chatty companion, but it was hard not to feel appreciative of someone sharing in the same life and death experience.

“I know we’ve talked about this before, but do you think it’s going to be terrible in our rooms? I feel like it’s going to be terrible.” Even as they squeezed through boulders and slipped through the crevice of the volcano, Murphy had to talk. “Honest to Gods, it’s going to be a slab of rock and lava covering the walls. I can’t sleep in the heat. I get so sweaty. Adam, Adam. I get sweaty.” [1:24 PM] “Pretty bold of you to assume he’s even gonna give us rooms.” That was a possibility, but Adam wasn’t going to let it happen anyways.

“What can I say—” A piece of the path broke off under Murphy’s foot, revealing the magma underneath and showing them how thin the layer they were walking on was. His voice shook, “I’m an optimist.”

From across the way, Adam heard a familiar voice. “Adam.”

Turning his carefully, Adam saw Hephaetus standing along another path, appearing smeared with grime and looking as if he was on his way from one project to another.

“Hi. Give me a sec.”

Having Hephaestus watching them made even Murphy scuttle forward with haste. Finally, they reached him and Adam took the lead in greeting them.

“Hi sir. I know this was unexpected and rude, but I was actually hoping that I could apprentice under you for some time. I just graduated college and I thought taking some time to learn from you was the right thing to do. I don’t plan on burdening you any more than that and if all you wanted to do was tell me to do things, I can do that too.” Adam was polite and straight to the point. He didn’t know his grandfather beyond some shared conversation in a Lowe’s warehouse, but Hephaestus had always appeared to appreciate that in him. Their talks, after all, had never broached beyond mechanics. [1:25 PM] Hephaestus was silent, lips pursed as he stared down at Adam. Then he jerked his chin towards Murphy. “And him?”

“I’m Murphy!”

“He’s a friend. He didn’t want me coming alone.” That sounded a little pathetic. “Things have been more dangerous recently.” That was a little better.

“I’d really love it if you could let us stay. Mostly me. I’m hoping for a sauna room.”

Hephaestus didn’t need to hear anything more from him. “Aphrodite’s kid. What a pair you two are,” he spoke under his breath. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say no, but he began walking and gave a quick gesture to follow.

“Why do you call him ‘sir’?” Murphy whispered as they trailed after the god. [1:25 PM] [[SCENE THREE]]

It was hard to say how long they’d been there. Time moved differently in the cave. Not for any special reason besides not having a sky overhead to regulate their body clocks. But things were good for the most part.

Hephaestus didn’t spend a lot of time with Adam in the beginning, but he seemed to have warmed up to him a little, lingering nearby whenever Adam struggled with his task. Even though Ares was the one who took on his adopted dad’s form, he couldn’t help but be reminded of him with Hephaestus. It’d been a long time since Adam really got to hang out with his dad—First, he had to go to Camp Halfblood, then he had to live in Epineios. That didn’t leave a lot of room besides long visits. So he missed this. He missed not having to be the one in control.

But that was just something he pretended in brief moments because Adam had other, bigger responsibilities. The workshop was huge and it almost felt like Adam would never finish looking. He was just glad Murphy was here to share half the work. They’d split up locations to go through and they’d convene at night in their shared room.

“I think the helm is here, Adam,” Murphy whispered in a low voice, across his own bed.

They hadn’t heard or found anything about the helm since they got there. This was a first and had Adam alert.

“What’d you mean?” Adam asked, already frowning, lowering the shirt he was folding. [1:25 PM] “I was in the boiler room and I overheard Alkon tell Eurymedon that Ares is going to get what’s coming to him. That Hephaestus is gonna make sure of it.”

That more than put Adam on edge. He hesitated, taking a moment to think of a plan on how to go forward.

“It’d be so dumb if he took it.” Murphy muttered. “You know? Like just ‘cause he has beef with Ares, is there really a point to starting a civil war and getting everyone involved?”

Adam stayed silent.

“I just think this whole war thing is stupid and there’s no reason Athena would do anything bad because she’s like, the brains, you know?”

Adam bit his cheek.

“Her whole thing is like fairness and justness. Dude—” Murphy hit Adam’s knee, making him look up. “I feel like I’ve been talking to a tree all this time. Why don’t you ever say what you think about anything?”

It seemed to come out of nowhere, but it was probably because Adam had been too lost in thought. He took in Murphy’s frustration and he could tell it’d been something that had been stewing. “You know, I don’t like to talk unnecessarily, Murphy.”

Murphy rolled his eyes and he was about to say something, but Adam continued to the other boy’s pleasure.

“The war is stupid. All war is. I want to find the helm and end it.”

“Oh yeah, if you find it, I bet your dad would make you immortal or something. You’d have to get rewarded for ending a fucking war.” Murphy sighed, dramatically. “I bet Athena would get us something nice when we get back. I heard some dude got a flamethrower once, but like, a crazy indestructible one or something.”

Adam finished folding the shirt and put it off to the side. They still had to think and plan something out, but they couldn’t do anything right now.

“I thought you wanted to meet your mom.”

The perpetual grin on Murphy’s face faded. There was a pause. “Well, what do you think the fucking flamethrower is for?” [1:25 PM] The question ended in a cackle that made Adam snort. Murphy’s opinion of Aphrodite had swayed every other day, but it wasn’t hard for Adam to tell where Murphy really stood about it. After all, a person wasn’t ambivalent about things for nothing.

“So what are you going to do with all that glory? Are you finally going to get a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Themfriend?” Murphy raised his index finger stopping Adam from speaking. His gaze was flat and unamused. “Or are you gonna get a cat? One you didn’t find off the street.”

“You know, you have a lot of perceptions of me. More than I’d like any person to have. I might get a cat, but I’d have to check in with Audrey. And even then, our stray might not care for a friend. Besides that, I don’t care about anything else. I’ll do what I have to do to end the war so we can all stop worrying about each other.”

Murphy gave Adam an uncertain look. “That always kind of confused me about you. I really thought Ares kids were supposed to thrive in conflict or something. You don’t seem like any Ares kids I know.”

Adam flexed his hand. “You might be getting it confused with just having the ability to manipulate rage. But yeah, I get that a lot.” Frankly, he was never sure how to feel about whether it was a good thing or a bad one. It always felt insulting either way. “I do,” Adam answered.

“Do what?”

“I do like conflict. I like...Not holding back. There’s a rush of adrenaline and freedom that’s hard to recreate. I like pushing things too far. I like hitting things until something bleeds. I want things to hurt. I have for a long time.”

There was a silence between them before Murphy spoke again. “You sound kind of like a psycho.” [1:25 PM] Adam gave Murphy a small smile. “Yeah, well, it runs in my blood in more ways than one. But that’s part of the reason I stop myself.”

Murphy tapped his fingers along his chin, feigning a caricature of a therapist. “Go on.”

It really was nice to have Murphy here with him in the trenches. The months would have been more bleak if he were alone. Murphy was his friend now. Maybe his closest one, even if he wasn’t Murphy’s.

Giving a small laugh, Adam stretched up, giving a slight reprieve from its tenseness. “I used to get the shit beaten out of me when I was a kid. Everyone in my family is trash.” Adam collapsed backwards on his bed, staring up at the dark slate ceiling. “I don’t want to be like that. I want to be better.”

Through his peripheral Adam could see Murphy staring at him. His next words made Adam choke back a laugh: “I wish you were gay.” He grinned. “Or you know, something close to it.”

“Who knows, I haven’t really thought about it.”

“What do you mean you haven’t thought about it? Everyone thinks about it. Well, not everyone, but you get what I’m saying.”

“I get it. I just know I’m not in that place yet.” The more specific answer was an amalgamation of reasons Adam just couldn’t sort and didn’t think it was important enough to try to.

Murphy nodded and turned over on his bed to face Adam. “I guess. Does that mean you haven’t kissed anyone?”

Adam raised a hand as he settled back into his bed, pulling the covers over himself. “We’re not that close, Murphy.”

“Oh, so you want to kiss me?”

“I’m not in your league.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Also I’m not gay.”

“Murphy, what?” [1:25 PM] “I have a girlfriend. I’m just a straight dude who likes to talk and occasionally assumes all my friends are in love with me. Clearly, Adam.” Murphy’s eyes were closed, relaxed, so he couldn’t see Adam squinting over in the dark. “Anyways I just like lying.”

Somehow they had circled back to the pointless jabber Murphy liked and Adam gave an amused breath of air as a reply before he turned over to face the wall.

“Maybe I’ve been lying to you the whole time. Maybe my name isn’t even my name. It’s probably Steve or something. Or Zack, like from Saved by the Bell—Did you hear about Screech?”

“Goodnight Steve.”

“Hey, actually. I think tomorrow while you’re with Hephaestus, I can try talking to the Kabeiroi Boys. They’re pretty good to charmspeak. I’ll let you know from there what I’ve got. You’re doing all the hard manual labor anyways.”

The gears in his head were turning, going over the idea. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Of course it does. Night Adam.”

“You’re a good partner.”

“I have a girlfriend.”

Adam laughed again into the dark before finally letting himself doze off. [1:26 PM] [[SCENE FOUR]]: MURPHY’S POV

It was easy to make up the lie to Adam the next day—that it’d only been a prank Hephaestus was planning on Ares, a false alarm. Of course, Murphy hadn’t actually found anything. It was just that Adam really didn’t share enough for him to figure the guy out.

The talk with Adam had given Murphy a little more perspective. It was enough to let him know that Adam was probably in the clear. There was still a niggling of doubt coming from the admission of hate he had fessed up to, but that’d been the only thing. Murphy was about 90% sure his companion didn’t have the helm and though Adam had thought they should clear Hephaestus now, Murphy insisted on staying a little longer to give time for Adam to convince him of the other ten.

Despite Adam’s impression, Murphy’s own quest was different from his. He’d known it from the start when Athena had come to him and told him how she suspected the son of Ares. She sent him with Adam on the chicanery of a quest to read into the real suspect. There weren’t supposed to be any hiccups to his quest unless Adam really did have the helm—He didn’t think Adam would get caught in the Dupe Quest.

Adam stumbled into the room Murphy was in, Hephaestus following behind, an imposing figure. Murphy remembered a miniscule warmth to them when he talked with Adam, but it was gone now. The gaze on his face was as hard and black as coal.

“What am I supposed to do with two liars? Arrogant demigods who’ve come into my home and rifle through my things? I should have known. You are your father—Despicable.”

Murphy turned to Adam, staring at him with wide eyes, trying to ask for an explanation. How’d he get caught? What had happened? The other boy just stared forward, jaw locked.

“Well?” Hephaestsus looked between them. “Did you find what you were looking for? What was it? Who sent you?” [1:26 PM] Adam wasn’t saying anything, so Murphy stepped up, raising his hands. “We weren’t doing anything. It’s just a misunder—”

“Shut up. Your pretty words don’t work on me, son of Aphrodite.” Murphy could see the god’s nose flaring as he glowered down at them. “Only one of you’s getting to go back as a warning, so who’s it going to be?”

“I’ll stay,” Adam spoke, volunteering himself.

Hephaestus’ eyes narrowed, thinly. “No one is staying.”

He and Adam shared a look. Murphy’s mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this. He was coming up short. Camp prepared him for monsters, not for Gods.

“Who sent you?” A fire combusted throughout his clenched fist, causing a more immediate panic.

The name slipped from Murphy’s mouth. “Ares. Ares sent us.”

He didn’t mean to damn Adam, but justification began pouring into his mind—Only one of them was getting out and it was better this way, wasn’t it? Adam was the one who got caught anyways? The quest Murphy was on was the real mission, Adam’s didn’t matter. There was still a small percent Adam was the helm thief. Wait, Adam was good with getting out of situations. He could figure this out for the both of them. It was fine, Murphy wasn’t damning him, he was buying Adam time.

“Your father?” Hephaestus uttered.

“He didn’t.” Murphy’s heart clenched. He wasn’t expecting Adam to tell the truth, he’d sworn on the Styx.

“So Murphy is lying?”

“I’m not! It was Ares. He sent us to find the helm here!” Murphy’s eyes were on the god, hoping to Aphrodite, begging that his charmspeak would work. “Who else would send us here?”

There. He could see Hephaestus believe him. The wrath was on Ares. And on Adam. He stared at Adam, pleading him to say something to get them out of this. But Adam didn’t say anything at all. [1:26 PM] Hephaestus grunted. “I want to hear you say it, Adam. Tell me it was Ares.”

“Adam, tell him. Say something!” Murphy hissed. Why wasn’t Adam saying anything?

“It wasn’t Ares.”

“Tell me or Murphy dies now.”

The silence was both longer and quicker than Murphy had ever felt. But the fire that engulfed him was the last thing he recalled.

[[SCENE FIVE]]: ADAM’S POV

“Was it worth it?” Hephaestus asked, voice harsh and sharp, as Adam stared at the pile of ash where Murphy had been standing.

Adam...His morals hadn’t allowed Ares to take the blame for it, but at the same time, he had a duty to his quest not to out Athena. Weighing even heavier was the potential of escalating the war. Of it being time to fight against his friends. And Adam...Didn’t want to set the keg. So he stayed silent and he let Hephaestus smote Murphy.

“Kill me too,” Adam’s voice cracked through his raw throat. “Kill me too,” he repeated with more certainty.

“No. That’s your punishment.” He jerked his chin towards Murphy’s spot. “You’ll carry that forever.”

“That’s not a punishment! That’s not a fair punishment!” Adam snapped, feeling all the heat rise to his face. “You’re supposed to take it out on me!” “Fair? An eye for an eye then.” There was no other warning before Hephaestus took Adam’s left eye. Adam held the place where his eye had been, cringing over it. “Since you want to keep your eye on me, I’ll keep it then.” He turned his back towards Adam as he made for the door. “Go. You’ve completed your quest.” [1:26 PM] [[SCENE SIX]]: ATHENA’S POV

Athena plucked a dark olive from the tree above. She turned it over in thought. It was much too ripe—Far overdue to be picked. She peered up once more to get a glimpse of the son of Ares’ back as he headed back into town.

The quests she had sent both boys on ended one of the few ways she imagined it would. The children of Ares and Aphrodite on her side had made her suspicious of them both, though the Ares one had more of the cleverness and unpredictability that made her paranoid of him most.

It had been fairly simple. She sent Adam under the impression her suspicion was on Hephaestus and she sent Murphy to assess Adam. It seemed Adam was about done with his quest, obviously finding nothing on Hephaestus. With their time almost over, Athena had Hephaestus informed about the spies in his midsts. The real test of loyalty lied there and Adam had passed with flying colors. She could trust him now. Trust was priceless in war and the cost of it had been a sacrifice that she could afford to make.

The son of Ares was a good ally to have. And he would even have her gifted eyepatch on him forever, allowing him the same sense of depth perception. He would be grateful to her always.

His back faded from view and Athena vanished, content with the turnout.

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