ashsprout



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    “Have you got anywhere to stay?” Jon asks him, briskly. “Friends, acquaintances, maybe, who you could stay with…?”

    Martin flushes, deeply. “I, I mean— n-no, not really,” he stammers, and then goes even redder. “Or, just, y’know not that I’d want to, to. Put in the middle of this. Put in danger of, of worms.”

    “Ah,” Jon says, “No, of course, that makes sense.” Why drag anyone else into this mess? Seven people died during Prentiss’s initial hospitalization; the collateral damage of roping someone from outside the Institute into her orbit doesn’t bare thinking about. “In that case…” Jon feels like there’s some alternative solution, one he’s just not thinking of at the moment, but it evades him, and Martin needs somewhere safe to stay. “My couch is quite comfortable. You’re welcome to come and stay with me until you figure something else out.”

     

    Martin is held hostage by Jane Prentiss for two weeks, and can't go back to his flat. Jon offers him a place to stay until Prentiss and her worms can be dealt with, and they can be sure he's safe.

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    13 Jan 2021

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    Eliot wakes up in the hospital missing a lot of his memories. He's pleased to discover that apparently he has a husband, and a Parker.

    Meanwhile, Parker has feelings, and knows she's weird, and Hardison might be a fish, a bird, or a turtle.

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    03 Jul 2020

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    “Come again,” Geralt said flatly.

    “It’s for a good cause, Geralt!” Dandelion said exasperatedly, as if that had ever justified any of his ideas before.

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    02 Apr 2020

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    Aziraphale has not shut up in thirty-four minutes. Crowley’s been counting.

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    09 Jul 2019

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    Darcy is thirty feet out of Stark-cum-Avengers Tower when she starts craving cinnamon rolls--the sticky-sweet iced-up old-fashioned kind, yummy and messy and dripping gooshy icing all over your mouth and hands and down your yuuuup, yup, that is a super, super fertile omega that she is smelling, holy shit is it ever.

    “Jesus Christ,” she groans in frustration, then follows her alpha instincts (and, more easily and importantly, her nose) to go track them down. They’re in the middle of New York City; middle of the day or not, not checking on somebody who smells like that is, like, the ultimate dick move.

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    16 Apr 2019