#I was thinking of trying to go back and finish some of my semi-abandoned stories on ao3

[shitty-check-please-aus]

I think there was even worse stuff than the whole art thing I talked about last night going on in the depths of Ao3 at the time but I have & had a very low bar for what it takes to make me close out of a tab so I don’t think I encountered quite as much of that

[oddballwriter]

Y/N's Monster

Summary: Tired of rude, vulgar, and not-up-to-snuff guys, you decide to make a man of your own. Is it a crime against God? Probably. But you've already stitched him together so there's no going back now. At least he's cute.

Warnings: Straight-up medical malpractice and other such things, it's for the plot. It's a Frankenstein inspired story so there's talk of stitching limbs onto other limbs and methods that do not work in real life. You can not stitch together and bring to life your own boyfriend in real life, I'm sorry ladies :(. 

Author’s Snip: Here's that Frankenstein's Monster Marc I promised! I hope you all like it. Onwards to the Lost Boys au I semi-promised! Yippee! I'm feeding the monster fuckers.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 702

Tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @spicydonut25 @steven-grants-world @homuraak3mi (You too can join the tag list! Just ask)

Seeing him now, actually up and moving, you were absolutely amazed. Both because the fact that the abandoned defibrillator and old shock therapy machine you stole got from the hospital you work for that you tinkered together actually worked in bringing a stitched-together corpse to life, and also by the fact that he looks so good.

For being a reanimated corpse made out of various John Does, he looks amazing. He was a good height, his body was proportionate where you had to add better fresher parts, and actually looked pretty alright.

It's not until he starts bumbling around that you stop ogling at him. He looks confused, maybe a bit scared.

"Hey," you say gently to not spook him, "You're okay," you tell him. He looks toward you, having heard you. Okay good, he can hear and see. "It's okay," you whisper trying to comfort him. He still looks slightly scared. He backs up when you try and walk toward him, but it's apparent that his limbs aren't ready for all the moving around so he trips and falls. "Oh no," you mutter to yourself as you rush towards him to try and help him up.

"Hey. I won't hurt you." you explain. But when he looks at you again you are hit with the possibility that he might not understand. After all, in the book, Frankenstein's creation didn't when he was brought to life.

You look to your creation and take a moment to think about what to do. "Understand?" is what you manage to think up. "Do you understand me?" you rephrase your question. He stares at you for a bit. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" you ask again. When he slowly nods you have to repress a scream of happiness to not scare him. You just let a smile cross your face,

"Okay. That's good." you reply. "So how about I help you back up and you have a seat." you suggest, "It seems like your body isn't ready to move around just yet." you point out.

You gently help him up and sit down on the gurney that you also stole got along with grabbing a sheet to wrap around him so that he can have some decency. You give your creation a quick check-up. Nothing seems to be wrong with him say for having slightly bloodshot eyes and he's a bit pale. He has natural reflexes like his knee kicking when it's hit with the little hammer, his pupils contract and dilate, and he can even feel pain.

As an extra precaution, you bandage up the places where his stitches would experience the most stress so they don't pop since stitching him up isn't an option, both because you don't have anything for anesthesia and you have no idea what it will do to him.

"Can you speak?" you ask as you finish up the last stitched area. He seems to think about it and then focus. You can see him trying to form a word with his mouth and managing to say "No...", but it clearly takes a lot to get it all down. You nod, "Okay." you reply. "Alright, how about we just do yes or no questions?".

After a while of asking questions to see where he is mind-wise, you start getting to harder to answer questions.

"Do you remember anything, from before waking up here?" you ask. He shakes his head.

"Do you know who you are?"... he shakes his head again.

"Do you have a name?" ... also no.

You hum. "Well, then I guess I have to give you one." you say. You think for a long time, mentally crossing off names that were too ridiculous or didn't fit his look. Something with an M.

"Marc." you say, "With a C at the end." you clarify. "I like that name. How about you?" you ask your creation. He just nods, but you swear there's a fraction of a smile for a second.

You're not sure how this will go moving forward now that you've got a man who's made from other men who doesn't have any background or identity, but this is a good start if you'd say so yourself.

[pesterquestrewritten]

Sorry if this is an inappropriate question to ask, but why do you want to rewrite pesterquest? Was there anything wrong with its original version, or are you just doing this for fun?

brain is a Lil Loopy rn so please excuse if this answer is semi incoherent - recovering from ankle surgery rn.

im gonna try to not harp on the original pesterquest as a project/talk about my percieved issues with it. from what I understand about the work environment where it was developed, it was hell -- poor communication, tiny budgets, little overall direction. plus every artist/writer involved was likely busy with other things at the same time (for example finishing the development of Hiveswap Act 2). they had so much going against them, and... it sorts shows in the final work, which isn't their fault. the original PQ team was passionate and cared and like. the absolutely last thing i want to do is disrespect them.

(generally also stating for the record that calling the original PQ "trash" or "replaced" is like. not good vibes. please don't do this if you're trying to enjoy PQR -- the last thing the original postcanon team needs is more harassment.)

anyway.

pqr is fanfiction, fundamentally.

i started making pqr because in september i was sick with covid, i wanted to learn renpy, and i wanted to study homestuck more. i wanted to figure out what made PQ tick, literally, figuratively, all of the above.

plus i really wanted to write a different story arc for mspar.

i also really love the side characters in Homestuck, and wish they all got more time to shine. the pqr prologue including a set of Spades Slick sprites just for a brief encounter i think helps establish what i want to do with the like. raw potential of the premise of a Homestuck visual novel.

damara is the other big thing -- i've wanted to make a story with her in it work for ages. (if anyone remembers the old MEGIDO hades mod, that was my first big public attempt. she was gonna be the protagonist, breaking out of scratch's mansion. turns out coding in renpy is WAY easier LMAO)

like. the plan wasn't even initially to have the prologue be a full damara route? i just let the writing take me where it wanted to take me. it's been deeply fun and cathartic.

the prologue's "bad end" has some incredibly intimate themes of like. inevitability, and worrying you've let everyone you love down, and i showed it to a college friend who i hadn't spoken to for ages and she set a screenshot from it as her background.

like. to me. that's pqr. that's why i make it.

pqr is the laundry room ending of rose's route, a deeply personal look into my own fears and anxieties as an author reflected back through this girl's circumstances. pqr is also the retcon ending of rose's route, a wildly stupid and indulgent romp through my own past fanfiction for a silly gag that people seemed to really love.

pqr is about dave and myself looking for a place to stay simultaneously -- pqr is about jade leaving prospit, and how i was adding to that part of the game in real-time as i dropped out of college, changing both of our destinies to something unexpected but hopefully better, at the same time.

pqr is also a silly extended sleepover scene. it's just fun to see them interact.

pqr is an excuse to turn over corners of homestuck and see if we can't peek behind them. what was it like for roxy, to think she lost joey and then find rose's meteor barely a year later? of course she'd think it's impossible for her to succeed as a mother. pqr is about finding empathy for yourself for your own mistakes, reflected back at you through homestuck characters.

because really, isn't that what we're all here for?

pqr is me coming back to my last long-abandoned attempt at an act 5 rewrite. pqr is an excuse to watch my girlfriend grow in confidence and style as she makes all the endcards and incidental art (except for joey route pt 2, but THAT was an excuse to work with a NEW friend!!!!!!!)

pqr is a friendship simulator that i am winning by having an incredibly supportive and collaborative group of friends in the dev thread who are cheering me on with every segment of text i post, friends who will hop in vc to check out the newest segment. friends like @dare0451 who literally yesterday rendered out some new audio to upgrade the June route to be even more fucking amazing and terrifying than it already was, AND DARE HASN'T EVEN PLAYED IT????? IT'S LITERALLY JUST. IT'S FRIENDSHIP MAN. PQR IS FRIENDSHIP

what the hell was this question again.

oh right.

yeah it's been fun basically. that's why i do it lol

[streaminn]

Also wondering if you could correct me on the timeline of the streamer enid au this is just from what I can recall/guess but please correct me! ->Nevermore from show hyde stuff -> Second year stalker & relationship beginnings, stalker murder & proposal -> Third year: Graduation & Marriage. Viper Series starts getting published during this time & the series is semi popular but not big & Wednesday isn't a well known figure yet. -> After graduation figuring themselves out enid settling down in a house and starts streaming as Endespair, is known as a super fan of the obsecure viper book series. Wednesday starts travelling & is writing viper books, both are still in love but having some independance from eachother after being so close in such intense situations & still sending letters & calling eachother. A bad movie adaptation of viper series is made, enid rants about it on stream. -> Wednesday does a remake of bad Viper movie & Enid has a major role & some of other nevermore friends are in it -> Wednesday starts acting/directing etc & becomes a horror scream queen & gets super popular and is also known as super focused and workaholic. Viper books get super popular also. while Enid starts stunt double & Extra work credited as Enid Addams known as Sin Addams on set -> Wednesday & Enid collab on new book Lycoan Curse & it is published credited to Wednesday only, it's a hit. -> Wednesday acts/ helps direct Carnage & enid joins on Carnage as stunt double for it, is an extra in wednesdays next movie Scream in smaller roles -> Lyocan Curse announced to be adapted into show, & Wednesday finally done with ldr and wants to come home to Enid -> Wednesday & Enid get cast as main roles in Lyocan Curse & Wednesday is home with enid now, they are adorable and I love them Am unsure what the timeline is for the bad viper movie & wednesdays remake of it, esp since i think it was before wednesday got popular but am unsure how much that time it gives between having a bad viper movie get made to then having a remake greenlit also if it was during the ldr🤔 Apologies if this feels super nitpicky not trying to be, just trying to wrap my head around the timeline cos I love this sm! anyway ahh sorry for such a long ask, Wenclair and these Au's have me in such a brainrot, I got obsession in my bones -🐅

wenclair start dating by mid to end of 2nd year! Its also the year when Wednesday finishes the book Hyden truth and gets it published around the time the 2nd semester stars.

The marriage happens right after the proposal (both happening in third year, near the end of the actual lunal rite) with maybe a day or two difference just for them to get better from their wounds. Its also the year that the bad adaption of Hyden truth gets made and showcased.

Wenclair and a few of the gang make their own lil remake by themself after graduation. So its not that good of a quality but the effort is shown. Its posted in Enid's old abandoned youtube channel.

The same summer the remake is made, Wednesday makes and publishes her lil short story book that is going to start the monsterfucker allegations in a year or two.

You got everything pretty spot on tiger :D! you did amazing, holy shit. I didn't expect someone to pay that close attention

The announcement of Lunal Curse being adapted isnt when the wenclair ldr ended tho. The 'exile' ended when Wednesday finally sent the final drafts of the book Lunal curse and has it published, she then goes to pack her bags and runs back to enid.

youre so true for this

Wednesday is home with enid, they are adorable and I love them

THEYRE JUST SO CUTE

But just incase, the remake wasn't done during the ldr :) so don't worry abt it

and no worries abt the long ask, i totally get people wanting to understand more on wtf is happening so i appreciate people asking me to expand more :D

thanks again for the ask tiger, have a good dayyy. I totally understand the brain rot, i have it too

[ladyswillmart]

Now that I'm on the subject of Writing That I've Done And Need To Archive On My Website, I think the best writing I've done recently is probably that Soul Blazer short fic, followed by the Hivallion/LotRO shorts which I actually went back and read recently and I was like "Oh, these are so cute".

I don't know why but I find LotR a little intimidating as a... Thing To Write In so I never really attempted anything that might resemble a more formal kind of fic. 🤔 I don't know if I ever will? Maybe? If I can ever get over the feeling that I'm taking a dump in Tolkien's church, maybe LOL

The Ultima 7/Serpent Isle fics I did more recently were okay. Like they're... fine! I don't hate them. I even like them a little. They're not grrrrrrrrrreat but not like anything that makes me want to vaporize everything I've ever written out of pure shame. I think with "Meadowtron" I was trying to create a kind of worldbuilding framework in which I could do like a little character ensemble series. I know not many people are familiar with Ultima anymore so I really wanted to make something that my friends could enjoy reading even if they haven't played the game. Along those lines, I created an introduction that elaborates on the setting I was going for: Basically, it's a postgame, semi-Fix-It AU comedy that sees the survivors of our bogus journey trying to scratch out a living in Moonshade. Rather than focusing on the Avatar and her companions, this story would flesh out the less-developed NPCs of Serpent Isle. I still really want to make this a reality and do at least ONE story in this setting (I have one outlined in full), but over the past few months I've kinda psyched myself out of writing fics completely so I'll need to find a way to trick my idiot albatross brain into starting it. 🤪 Maybe I'll make the main characters in Hero Forge, that might get the ball rolling (or not, but hey, it'll be fun so)...

I guess when I think of "purely self-indulgent fun" I immediately think of Ultima. Old old old habits never die I guess.

I think out of all the fandoms I've been in, FF14 was probably the most frustrating in terms of lost potential. Specifically, writing Nero fics—I started and abandoned SO MANY FICS. I had a lot of ideas that just never came to fruition, maybe because I had too many ideas and got overwhelmed, or because the ideas themselves were all half-baked anyway. I'm thinking it was some accursed combination of the two; the fact that I finished (and published!) anything at all is a GD miracle.

The Secret World was so much fun. I think it's the first and maybe only fandom I've been in where I actually felt like a part of the fandom, and like not some leering dork on the sidelines making unwanted commentary. I'll always treasure the time I had and the friends I made there. I'm not 100% sure yet how I'm going to organize my loose and chaotic collection of Secret World stuff on my website but I'll have to think of something.

Ah yes, I did write a few Dragon Age fics too! Inquisitor Arlen was so so funny. I'm not sure where I have these stories saved but if I can find them, I'll make a space for them on the website too. Same for Elder Scrolls I guess?? That's going pretty far back but I'm sure this stuff still exists somewhere, even if it's just in some weirdly named text file.

Yes, anything that's on my AO3 will go on the website, including the Portal stuff eventually though I am not looking forward to having to reformat/repost all those fics again LOL Well, at least I have the markup this time...

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 7 - Empress of Forever by Max Gladstone

Okay, once again trying to get back on the horse of keeping up with these reviews. So, I’m generally a massive fan of Gladstone’s stuff, and having finished this I have now read every book he’s published that isn’t part of some massive series (which, sorry, but no). Also, it’s quite literally about a lesbian in space and there are lots of atrocities, so it’s so incredibly on-theme for this blog I was basically obligated to read it at some point.

Honestly, I was kind of disappointed? Not that the book was bad – it really was an enjoyable read, I promise – but it really didn’t live up to the rest of Gladstone’s stuff? Now, maybe I’d have appreciated it more if I was more familiar with Journey to the West, but still. A big part of it was the characters, I think – compared to Gladstone’s other work they’re just so obviously narrative devices and not people. The plot is fine, though the big second reveal was so obvious that I didn’t realize it was suppossed to be surprising, and the overall pacing was really poorly suited to the medium. The descriptions and general High Space Opera aesthetic/vibes was sublime though, I’m such a sucker for stuff that’s basically just chrome-accented magic thrown around with wild abandon.

Now, the book is clearly a very, very, very loose (like ‘in the same way Dragonball is’) take on Journey to the West. I, knowing almost nothing about Journey except the general synopsis and third-order cultural references and influences, am almost certainly not in a position to properly appreciate this, but as a general rule I think it’s fun and cute when people do shit like this, in the same way that my favourite modern day Shakespeare adaptation is She’s The Man. But also I kind of think it’s the reason the book’s pacing is so weird?

Which is to say, the book has a very episodic structure, with the heroine and her crazy powerful space-pirate demigod magically-bound-slave/travelling companion and all the other weird and wonderful friends they pick up along the way going from place to place and meeting people and having personal growth and getting into misadventures. These are without question the best part of the book, but quite a few of them are also unfortunately compressed by the tyranny of page count, without the character beats getting the space to breathe they deserve. (The actual plot has this problem even worse – the entire final confrontation and denouncement got like 20 pages?) This is not a story that should have been told in a single book – it should have been told in a luxuriously animated incredibly over-the-top two season adventure serial made of 2-3 episode mini-arcs. Tell me I’m wrong.

The characters themselves are – look, they’re fun. They’re so much fun. The actual heroine far less than the rest of the supporting cast, but even her. But they’re just very...archtypal? They’re clearly and obviously characters, bundles of tropes and narratives roles and aesthetics, with only the barest performance of being people? Which is honestly pretty surprising, because I’m coming to this from Last Exit which, say whatever you want about them, that was full of fucking specific people with incredible attention paid to their particular psychologies and damage. Whereas everyone in this just felt kind of broadly written.

(Also, much like how Last Exit screamed that it was written during the Trump Administration with every word, this is very clearly a book conceived and written while Obama was president)

All this sounds very negative, because I’m a naturally miserable person, but I really should say that I did enjoy reading this book. Gladstone is up there with Valente and Miller as my favourite authors writing in terms of sentence-to-sentence prose, and the gloriously self-indulgent semi-mythical space opera landscapes and creatures and battles were an absolute joy to read. The Mirrorfaith and Pride and Orn and all the rest are all just very vividly realized and I want to see concept art of them for a triple A video game or something.

For all that the cast was pretty broadly written, I did enjoy spending time in all of their heads – though it might not say great things about the book overall that the single most affecting and beautiful set-piece by far was the one that Vivian wasn’t a part of.

Anyways, overall it was a fun book, would have been a better anime. Also, unrelated to everything above – Vivian and Zanji’s dynamic and relationship would have been textbook 101 inarguable queerbaiting if Vivian didn’t also get a (different) girlfriend she fucked on screen. I just find this kind of funny to think about.

[plague-of-insomnia]

It's so nice to have new Sebagni content with big feelings and disabled Sebastian

So much content of this ship is made by antis and I don't want to suport them so thank you for making this story that I identify with

Anon 🥺🥺🥺🥺 … this ask made (makes) me so happy.

I’m such a sucker for all those things in a story and there just…. Isn’t a lot of it in the fandom, especially for ships like sebagni. I also am sad that antis love that ship so much, bc as wholesome as it can be, I also like exploring some darker aspects of Agni’s character.

I think it’s easy to see him as this perfect paragon, and maybe he did become that, but he wasn’t always that way, and even so, he was still human. I think antis especially like to pretend the “bad agni” that existed before Soma never existed…. But I think the fact that Agni wasn’t always so pure and saintly is part of why he such a loveable character.

I’m glad you can identify with the story, too (though I’m sorry if it’s bc you also deal with illness/disability and all the frustrations that go with it 🫂)…. I really didn’t ever intend to publish the story. At first, I was just gonna write it for myself as I desperately needed something to cling to with the absolute bullshit I’ve had to deal with in the last couple years (this year especially), but I am glad that I did opt to share it, as it does seem to have resonated with a niche group of people. <3

I’ll spend the next day or two on editing and formatting, so hopefully I can update officially on Wednesday. Unless something happens, it should absolutely be this week.

I’ve been really enjoying finally writing sebagni, so much so that if I am able to finish this story this year (that would be amazing if I could), I may try and start another sebagni piece, maybe one of my abandoned (put on the far back burner) ideas, or maybe another one in a similar vein…. I guess time will tell.

For now, I’m really enjoying the relationships in this fic, especially Seb & Tanaka and Seb & Agni ofc. But also Tanaka/Vince. In fact, I may end up doing a oneshot spin off that covers some of their relationship, like how they met, why they couldn’t be the couple/family Tanaka wanted, and how Vince died…. But it’s possible that may end up as part of Synch proper….

I have a semi-concrete idea of what the rest of the fic will entail, and I think it’ll be around 10 chapters. But so far it’s been surprising me, so it may be longer than that… but it’s not gonna be a fraction as expansive a story as WDH, so it is theoretically possible I could finish it this year.

I’m trying to take a laid back approach to this story, just write what I need to for my sanity and enjoy it as I go.

But I’m excited bc we’ll have two new characters to meet in ch 4!

Ty again so much for this ask. I’m really glad you’re enjoying the story. (^_^)

You can read the first 3 chapters of Synchronize on AO3.

Anyone is welcome to read and comment as long as you’re respectful and kind. 🥰

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (422): Sat 13th May 2023

This morning I got sent down to the dock and spent most of the day putting labels on boxes which was a welcome break from being on stow. I was feeling quite skinny today and I was happy to be in the dock because that would mean a lot more waling than usual which would obviously contribute towards my exercise for the day. The Lose It app I'm using to track my progress is useless when it comes to recording the amount of walking you did. There's a website called Steps To Miles which lets you put in how many steps you walked during the course of the day and tells you how many miles you walked. On Lose It it asks you for how many miles you walked but then it also asks for the duration of the walk which is impossible to say for sure so I'm having to leave that for now. I honestly never thought that I would have lasted this long on a diet given the dozens that I've attempted and abandoned after a few days (or in some cases, a few minutes). I'm only eight days in so I shouldn't really be patting myself on the back just yet but the fact that I've shown any amount of willpower is quite a big deal for me. When I got home I booked mine and Dads train tickets to London for when we go to see Devo and my train for when I go to the Edinburgh festival. All I need to book now are travel and accommodation for when I got to AEW All In. This summer is most certainly not going to be cheap with KISS then Iggy Pop then Edinburgh then Devo then All In but fuck me when I get to the end of 2023 and I look at my bucket list and all the things I've crossed off in the space of 12 months it will most certainly be worth it. For the first time in a long time I actually enjoyed my run tonight. My new process of running as slow as possible for the first half of the run and then moving up to a fast paced jog for the second half means that I can breathe a lot better and I can actually work up a sweat by sprinting during the final few hundred yards from the top of the hill to my house. I must look absolutely ridiculous to passersby because for the first half I I run like I’m trying not to make any noise on the pavement, It’s almost like a reverse moonwalk as my feet barely leave the ground. But as long as I'm losing weight who cares what those fat slobs think of me. This run was made all the more enjoyable by listening to Adam Buxton interviewing Tom Hanks on his podcast. There was some worry that Buxton had stopped doing the podcast since it normally begins at the start of spring so it was good to see that old Buckles was back. He also made for a very enjoyable interview by not asking Hanks specific questions about his film roles because he's already told all of those stories a million times and he's much more interesting when he's talking about film-making in general. When I got home and showered I stuck on last night's Lakers game and was delighted to see that they absolutely annihilated the Warriors and are now in the semi finals! The next round will be their toughest test yet as they’re up against the Nuggets who finished first in the Western conference. This is when shit gets real baby!

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Time of Death

Dr. Derek Shepherd x Reader

Words: 1966

Summary: Receiving the news after coming out of a long surgery, Derek rushes to comfort his fiancé whose sister committed suicide.

Notes: I hope to write some fluffier McDreamy imagines and more for Grey’s Anatomy, but when I got this idea, I had to go with it. This is a very very dark story, so it will not be for everyone, but I really had an interesting time writing it. As always, I’d love to know your thoughts and if you guys are excited for more Grey’s Anatomy imagines. 

Warnings: Suicide, grief, guilt (This starts out fast so I’m putting the break at the beginning so if you don’t want to read, you don’t have to.)

-

You couldn’t hear them say it but you still heard it in your head. Time of death… You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the clock. Time had stopped. Everything had stopped. As you looked down from the gallery, nobody in the O.R. seemed to be moving an inch. Until Dr. Bailey looked up at you. As soon as your eyes connected, everything started again but it started too fast. Your heart was beating too fast, your legs were moving too fast, the tears were coming too fast. 

Your sister was dead. She threw herself in front of oncoming traffic. Her body was so broken that even Bailey couldn’t put it back together. Your baby sister killed herself. 

Nurses and doctors alike watched you sprint by.  Fellow residents, interns, attendants, all of them watched you run like maniac through the halls of the surgical wing. Of course, you were careful not to be in anyone’s way, but you had to disappear. 

“What’s with Mrs. McDreamy?” Cristina asked George and Meridith quietly. 

“Her sister just died on the table.” Izzy sighed, having been with you in the gallery. She looked at the floor. “Jumped in front of a car.” The other interns’ eyes widened. 

“She killed herself?” Meredith whispered, her gaze following your running form down the hall. “Has anybody told…”

“He’s been in surgery for hours.” Cristina shook her head. “I doubt he even knows she was admitted.” 

“Should someone page him? Should someone go get Y/N?” George wondered but nobody moved. They all just looked at each other. Cristina crossed her arms. 

“I’ll go. Somebody has to go tell Dr. Shepherd that his future sister in law turned herself into roadkill.” 

“No.” Meredith blurted. Cristina’s bluntness was the last thing anyone needed right now. “I’ll tell him.” Meredith and Derek were at least friends. He needed to hear this from a friend. 

-

Derek smiled as the water ran over his hands. After several long hours, the surgery was a success. The 18-year-old girl was going to be okay. Thanks to him. Another life saved. His smile grew when Meredith stepped into the room. 

“Dr. Grey, you missed a pretty amazing surgery.” He beamed. Something about her face was off. 

“I’m sure you did very well Dr. Shepherd.” She wasn’t looking at him. 

“Meredith what is it?” He dried his hands quickly and followed her out into the hall. Her expression made that cocky smile of his fall. “Meredith?”

“A Cierra Y/L/N was admitted about when you started your surgery.”

“Y/N’s sister?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that she ran in front of a semi truck. Dr. Bailey did everything she could but… she’s dead, Derek.” 

“Cierra… killed herself?” Derek ran a hand down his face. “Does anyone know why? Are they sure that’s what happened? Does Y/N know?”

“We all saw her run down the hallway, so I’d say she knows.” 

“Do you know where she went?” He exclaimed, raising his voice. He didn’t have time for the doe-eyed confusion. He needed to know where you were. Meredith just shook her head. He calmed down enough so he wouldn’t yell. “Thank you for getting me.”

He took off, scanning the hall for any sign of his fiance. As he hurried past doctors and patients, he thought of Cierra. He’d never even met her. Sure, you had mentioned that you had a younger sister, but you didn’t say much other than that. But suicide? It was how you lost your mom when you were in medical school. This was going to hit hard and he needed to make sure there would be pieces of you left. 

“Dr. Shepherd!” A voice called out behind him. He reluctantly stopped his pursuit to turn to Dr. Bailey. She gave him a sad, grim look. “We did everything we could, but the extent of her injuries… I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.” 

“Have you seen Y/N?” 

“Since she couldn’t operate with us, she stayed and watched from the gallery.” She sighed. She paused for a second before putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think I know where she might have gone.” 

Bailey had found you there once before. You’d lost a patient and needed a quiet place to be alone. If there was ever a time you needed a quiet place to go, it’d be now. She brought Derek to a closet on the fourth floor. It was mostly filled with extra linens and paper and such so it wasn’t used often. Bailey knocked on the door, but received no response. Slowly, she opened the door. 

“Dr. Shepherd?” She called out into the dark storage room. With still no response, she let Derek pass her. 

“Y/N? Honey, I know you’re in here.” His eyes adjusted and he could see a form standing behind one of the shelves in the corner. He exchanged a look with Bailey. She nodded in understanding. 

“I’ll go tell the chief. You’ll probably want to be heading home.” As she turned to leave, Derek put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Thank you, Miranda.” 

The chief resident quietly closed the door behind her and Derek walked further into the closet. The closet may have been small, but you felt far away. Hearing the sound of him approaching, you turned your head. 

“Cierra is… she’s- they said that she-” Every time you tried to finish the sentence, your mouth stopped. Like your body was trying to deny what your mind clearly knew. Derek tentatively put his hands on your shoulders. When did he get in front of you? 

“I know.” 

He pulled you to his chest and you tried not to push away. You wanted to. You wanted to run again. But his arms wouldn’t let you. He kept you from drifting away. 

-

Chief Webber had all of your surgeries for the next few days rescheduled or taken over by Dr. Bailey. Derek rescheduled the ones that he could, but some of his surgeries were on a time crunch. After he drove you home, he was paged back to the hospital for an emergency. He told you what it was, but you couldn’t remember. 

You didn’t even remember the drive home. You remembered the bloody surgical tools and the machines and the clock, but it didn’t have any numbers on it. You remembered running in the halls and Derek finding you in the closet. Now you were home. Now you were alone. Alone with the knowledge that you killed your little sister. 

Your brain started a single train of thought. You moved slowly, every motion draining more and more energy out of you, but you still made your way to your closet and found your suitcase. You couldn’t put this much pain, this much baggage on someone with a heart like his. To you, this was mercy. 

-

When Derek finally returned home, not a single light in the house was on. His shoulders were weighed down as he tossed his keys on the counter. The surgery was a success, but he didn’t feel that usual rush of adrenaline that came from saving a life. He just wanted to get back to you. 

He was about to call out for you when he saw something catch the light. Sitting on the kitchen table was your engagement ring. 

“Y/N!” He called out, tucking the band into his pocket and ascending the stairs two at a time. He burst into the bedroom and found your suitcase sitting on the bed, clothes hurriedly piled inside. “Y/N!” 

Light pooled into the room from underneath the bathroom door and was sure he could hear something inside. Derek knocked lightly before slowly cracking the door open. 

“Y/N?” His voice was quieter now but still held the same amount of urgency. You just whimpered in response. He opened the door fully, finding you sitting on the bathroom floor having thrown up any meals you had that day. 

“It’s my fault, Derek.” You cried, your voice so low he could barely hear you. “Cierra killed herself because of me. I can’t force you to live with that too.” You pulled your knees up to your chest. 

“Honey…” Derek sat beside you, putting on a hand on your cheek to make you look at him. “Cierra was sick. She’d been sick for a really long time.”

“She was sick because I left her.” You spat, jerking away. “I abandoned her when I moved here for my residency. I knew what she was going through, stuck living with my dad, and I went off to medical school anyway.”

“Deciding to make a life for yourself and to help save lives was not abandoning her.” He took your hand in his and this time, you didn’t pull away. “Y/N, you called Cierra every chance that you got. As far as you knew, she was getting help in San Diego. She told you she was getting better. You couldn’t have known how bad it had gotten.” 

“Then why did she come here, Derek?” You felt that sick feeling in your stomach turning and twisting again. “Why drive up to Seattle and jump into oncoming traffic close enough to be taken to Seattle Grace unless she blamed me?” 

Derek was quiet for a moment. Your body was still shaking from both sobs and from getting sick and you looked desperate for answers that he couldn’t give. 

“Maybe she wanted to see you one last time. This was her way of doing that.” 

It may not have been the answer you wanted to hear, but it was enough to get you to calm down. Derek shifted so that you were sitting in front of him, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your arms from behind. He gently kissed the top of your head and pulled your ring out of his pocket. 

“As for this…” He held the band out in front of you. You just stared at it, laying your head back against his shoulder. 

“I was leaving.” You were half packed before your body ached so much it made you sick. 

“I noticed that.” Derek blew out a long breath. “You said you ‘couldn’t force me to live with that’. Is that how you think? That leaving will spare me of your faults?” 

“I didn’t think that you…” You sighed, trying to collect your reasoning into words. You spun around so you were facing him, holding his hands in your lap. “Derek, you love saving lives. You walk into life ready to save someone else’s. I couldn’t make you look at me everyday knowing that I was responsible for Cierra’s death.” 

Derek lifted your hands up to his chest and laid them flat over his heart. 

“This day- this tragedy- does not define who you are. You are still the beautiful, talented, brilliant surgeon that I fell in love with. The one I asked to marry me. You will still be that woman tomorrow and the next day and the one after that. And if you ever need reminding I will ask you to marry me every single day until we walk down that aisle together because I’m not backing out. Better or worse.” His gaze searched yours for a reaction. “Okay?” 

All you could do was nod and lean back into his embrace. You stayed there on the bathroom floor, his legs on either side of you and your head tilted back against his chest. While Derek’s words didn’t erase everything from that day, they helped to take even just a little of the weight off of your heart. It was enough, at least for now and so you slipped your ring back onto your finger and fell asleep in his arms.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[edith-moonshadow]

I Fought The Law

This is what happens when I watch too many murder videos on youtube while trying to finish some Harringrove stories 😳😳😳 It doesn't involve any murder just me thinking what would happen if Billy became a Deputy at Hawkins Police Department and slightly abused that power so that he could get Steve 🤔🤔🤔

So Steve is a little King Steve in this story and Billy has become a deputy with the Hawkins Police Department, he keeps pulling Steve over and giving him speeding tickets and Steve’s dad tells him he needs to learn some responsibility and threatens to take his car away if he gets another ticket. Steve is driving home on a deserted road after having a few drinks at Tommy’s when he sees flashing lights in his rearview mirror. Will he be able to talk his way out of this?

Warnings: Slight Dubious Consent. Semi-Public Sex, Anal Fingering, Mutual Masturbation, Anal Sex, Biting, Marking, Manipulation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Billy Being Billy, Top Billy, Bottom Steve 

He probably should have phoned a taxi or asked someone for a lift as he’d had a few drinks but he decided to take a back road home and drive extra slow. It was the early hours of the morning, the cops were probably all back at the station drinking coffee and watching the clock, nothing ever happened in Hawkins. Then just as he drove past the old abandoned factories he saw the familiar red and blue flashing lights. For a moment he contemplated just driving, it was going to be Billy, he just knew it. His dad’s angry voice from earlier that day flashed through his mind and with a sigh, he pulled over.

He rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath when he heard a tapping on his window and opened his eyes to see Billy Hargrove’s smug face. He wound down his window and Billy leaned in closer.

“Out kinda late aren’t you Princess?”

“I’m on my way home.”

“Where were you?”

“How’s that any of your business?”

Billy’s hand came up and tapped against the shiny badge on his chest.

Steve sighed.

“I was at Tommy’s apartment.”

“Drinking?”

An angry pout formed on Steve’s face as Billy’s eyes lit up.

“C’mon man, can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Sorry, Princess if you insist on breaking the law it’s my duty to hold you responsible.”

“C'mon please, I can’t get another ticket my dad will kill me.”

Billy’s smirk got wider.

“Don’t want to disappoint your daddy huh Pretty Boy.”

“Look, can't you just cut me some slack?”

Billy just gave him an intense stare.

“Please…”

“Trying to bribe a cop Princess, think that’s a good idea?”

“Don’t be such an asshole…”

“Ok, Pretty Boy get out of the car.”

Steve sighed heavily, what was the point in even arguing at this point? He undid his seatbelt, opened the door and stepped out of the car. Billy motioned at him to turn around and face the car. Steve glared at him then turned. He felt Billy’s body press up behind him then he gasped slightly when he felt Billy’s hands grip his hips as he manhandled him against the car. Then his hands ran down his sides, across his back, over his hips and ass before sliding up the inside of his thighs. He shivered when he felt Billy’s hot breath against his ear.

“Anything you want to tell me, Princess?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Are you telling me if I did a sobriety test right now you’d pass with flying colours?”

Steve licked his lips.

“Look I had a couple of drinks, ok but I’m fine to drive.”

Billy suddenly grabbed his wrists pulling them behind his back, he then held them tightly in one hand as Steve heard the metal clink of handcuffs.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to have to take you in.”

“Why?”

“Drink driving.”

“Billy please…”

Billy kept his hands held tightly as he crowded back in against Steve’s body, he started to feel a little lightheaded. If he got arrested for drunk driving his dad would probably leave him at the police station and he could kiss his allowance goodbye, he was going to end up stuck doing the most menial job his dad could find for him to do at one of his businesses and he was going to lose his car.

“Unless you can convince me otherwise.”

“Anything, please I can’t get arrested.”

Billy’s other hand ran along his hip giving it a firm squeeze.

“Anything?”

“What do you w-want?”

Billy’s hand slid from his hip around to the bottom of his stomach, he pressed down as he moved closer to Steve, his lips so close that they tickled Steve’s neck.

“You.”

A laugh bubbled up from Steve’s chest.

“What do you really want?”

“That is what I really want, Princess.”

Steve jumped when he felt Billy’s tongue lick slowly behind his ear.

“C’mon Pretty Boy, what have you got to lose?”

He shivered when he felt Billy’s hands start to stroke his hand down lower.

“I…”

Billy turned him around abruptly, slamming him against the car before capturing Steve's lips in a brutal kiss. He tried to resist but when Billy bit down on his lip he felt arousal settle low in his stomach and he started to kiss back. He never would have believed that he’d enjoy kissing Billy but when all that intensity was directed at him it became a little overwhelming. Soon he had wound his arms around Billy’s shoulders pulling him closer moaning when Billy slid his hands down pulling Steve’s body closer to him.

Billy pulled back, kissing his way down Steve’s throat, licking over his pulse point before biting down hard causing Steve to cry out his skin tingling when Billy ran his tongue over the same spot. Billy licked his way back up to Steve’s ear causing him to shiver.

“C’mon Baby...you won’t regret it…”

Steve felt his face flush.

“I...I’ve never uh…”

Billy groaned before pulling him into another desperate kiss.

“I’ll make it so good for you…”

“I don’t know...can I not give you something else?”

Billy pulled him close again, placing kisses over his lips and neck.

“How about a compromise?”

“What?”

“I’ll make you feel good, and you can make me feel good.”

“How?”

Billy bit his lip.

“How about your hand on my dick, you can do that can’t you Sweetheart?”

Steve averted his eyes.

“I don’t know…”

“Sure you can, you touch yourself right, it’s pretty much the same thing.”

“That’s all?”

He glanced back at Billy becoming mesmerised by his intense eyes once more as Billy slowly licked his lips.

“Well, it wouldn’t be fair if you were taking care of me and I didn’t take care of you at least a little right Princess?”

Steve bit his lip as he felt his face heat a little more at the idea of Billy with his hand on his cock slowly stroking him as his eyes burned into him. Could he do this? Did he want to do this? He looked at Billy once more and he felt that little flutter in his stomach and he nodded before he could change his mind. A shark-like grin spread across Billy’s face as he took his hand and pulled him towards his car.

“In your car?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Steve looked up and down the dark road they were on, it was very late at night so it was unlikely but then Steve had thought that he was home free for the same reason and Billy had shown up.

“What if someone drives by?”

“They’ll see you having the time of your life.”

“Billy, I'm serious.”

“Don’t worry Sweetheart, they’ll see my car and drive on by.”

“Or your car will make them more curious.”

Billy just ignored him pulling him over and opening the back of his patrol car pushing Steve inside. He then came in after him manhandling Steve under him and then he pulled him into another desperate kiss. Steve was so caught up in the kiss that he didn’t realise Billy had his wrist in a handcuff until he felt him snap it shut and quickly attach it above his head. He looked at Billy in shock.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Just spicing things up a little.”

Steve looked up at him, a pout forming once more and Billy groaned.

“Fuck Princess, I bet that little pout gets you anything you want…”

Billy leaned forward sucking his lower lip into his mouth and bit down hard causing Steve to whimper. He felt Billy’s fingers on the front of his jeans as he deftly undid them before pulling them down sliding down his body so that he could strip Steve from the waist down. His heart started to hammer in his chest as he watched Billy hungrily take in his body. Before Billy stepped back out of the car, he kept his eyes on Steve as he slowly stripped off his deputy uniform. Steve licked his lips as he watched Billy slowly reveal his body to his hungry eyes. He'd seen Billy naked many times when they’d had practice together but this was different.

There was something charged about his actions now, he was striping with intent, it was all for Steve’s benefit, he wanted Steve to look at him, to admire his body. Steve couldn’t help letting his eyes roam over him, he was so much broader than Steve, he was so muscular, he had never seen anyone who looked like Billy up close, like this. His eyes slid a little lower and widened when he took in Billy’s thick hard cock, outside of his own Steve had never seen another cock hard, especially one that he was going to touch, he felt a little intimidated. Billy pulled something from his pocket then slid back on top of Steve, he shuddered when he felt Billy’s hot skin rub against his.

Billy pushed his knees in between Steve’s legs spreading them wide before he slid his naked cock against Steve’s.

“Uhhhh…”

“Feel good, Baby?”

He heard a bottle snap open and looked up at Billy to see him pouring something onto his fingers.

“What’s that?”

“Something that’ll make everything feel better.”

Billy then brought his hand down and took Steve’s hardening cock in his hand, he tightened his grip and started to stroke. Steve’s body locked up as pleasure coursed through him and Billy leaned down to kiss across his face down towards his neck. He started to feel warm all over, whimpering at Billy’s ministrations.

“Fuck...Billy…”

He felt Billy’s hand on his left thigh pushing it further apart putting him fully on display when he felt Billy’s slippery fingers slide down and press up against his hole. He tensed.

“Wait...what…”

“Shhh, it’s ok Princess this is gonna feel real good trust me…”

Billy increased the speed of the hand on his cock and Steve writhed under him when he felt pressure at his hole before Billy pushed and the tip slowly slipped in. Steve groaned at the fullness he felt as Billy pushed his finger in.

“Fuck you’re so tight...tell me how it feels…”

“I dunno...”

Billy slowly moved the finger in and out while Steve adjusted to the stretch.

“That’s it Pretty Boy, just relax, it'll feel real good in a minute…”

Soon Billy pulled his finger out then slowly pushed in two, it felt so much bigger and Steve moaned as Billy pulled him into a kiss to distract him. He felt so overwhelmed, he wasn’t too sure if he liked what Billy was doing, it felt kind of good but also a little uncomfortable too so he poured all his desperation into the kiss. Then Billy brushed against something inside that made Steve whine into his mouth as pleasure shot up his spine making his body break out on gooseflesh.

“There Princess? Is that it?”

He pressed against that spot again as Steve’s thighs shook and his hole fluttered around Billy’s fingers and Steve felt light-headed. Billy pulled him into another kiss then he groaned against his mouth.

“Touch me.”

Steve brought down his free hand and with trembling fingers wrapped his hand around Billy’s hard cock. Billy licked his way down towards Steve’s throat, groaning into his skin as he left a trail of stinging bites across his skin heightening Steve’s pleasure.

“That’s right Baby, just like that...fuck that’s so good…”

Steve could feel his orgasm fast approaching as Billy continued to stroke over his cock and pressed up against that spot on the inside. He felt so hot, his body locking up as his mind became hazy with pleasure.

“Billy...Billy…”

Billy suddenly stopped and Steve whined low in his throat. Billy licked his way to his ear.

“Princess...I want you to feel so good…will you let me…”

“I don’t understand…”

“My fingers feel real good don’t they, Baby?”

Billy pushed his fingers against the spot again and Steve whimpered.

“Y-yes…”

“I’ve something that’ll feel even better…”

“Uhhh…”

“C'mon Princess...just let me push it in a little...I won’t put the whole thing in now...we can try that later...it’ll feel so good…”

Billy pulled his fingers from Steve’s body then wrapped them around Steve’s hand on his cock applying a little pressure to encourage Steve to bring Billy’s cock up towards his hole. He bit down on his lip hard and started moving Billy’s cock towards his hole while Billy pulled his hand away so that he could manhandle Steve into a better position. With a little manoeuvring, Steve finally pressed the head of Billy’s cock up against his hole. Billy produced the bottle once more pouring a little onto the head of his cock. It felt cool against his skin.

“That’s it Sweetheart...just a little push…”

Steve took a better grip of Billy’s cock and started to push, he encountered a little resistance and then with a deep breath the head popped inside, Billy groaned lowly then leaned down biting into Steve’s lip. Then Billy started to move his hand on Steve’s cock again while his hole fluttered around the head of his cock as Billy started to kiss him desperately again. Then he kissed back down to his throat, licking over the indents left by his teeth. Billy tried to push in a little further but Steve held him back so he increased the pressure and speed of his hand until Steve felt his body squeezing down on Billy’s cock before he finally came in his hand. Billy bit into his neck as his cock throbbed inside Steve as he flooded him with come.

As Steve slowly came down from his high, he felt his body start to cramp, his legs were spread too wide and one of his hands was still handcuffed above his head. Billy was still licking over his skin so he shrugged his shoulder to try and dislodge him.

“Can you unhandcuff me now?”

“I dunno Princess are you going to be a good boy now?”

Billy stroked his hand up Steve’s thigh slowly pushing two fingers back into his over sensitive hole. Steve shivered as it made little shocks shoot under his skin.

“How does it feel to be full of my come Pretty Boy?”

Steve groaned softly as he felt his cock give a feeble twitch.

“Are you going to be good now Baby or am I gonna have to keep you in line?”

Billy slowly pushed his fingers in his come slicking the way, pressing against the spot inside making Steve grit his teeth at the slightly painful pleasure. Billy placed lingering kisses on his neck.

“You’ve been such a bad boy Sweetheart...you’ve been so spoiled thinking you can just do whatever you want…”

Steve moaned softly.

“Don’t worry though Princess I know how to keep you in line…”

[1d1195]

To my followers--old and new

I’m sure those of you that have been following me for a while are shocked that I’m even active still after my sporadic posting the last three years. From the bottom of my heart I want to say sorry for all but abandoning you guys. Once you read below I will follow up with a long half-way decent attempt at an explanation as to why I was gone and why I’m back.

I’ve got a little warning to say about my next story. I will also post it on the actual story when I get around to finishing the first part (which I really do believe will be soon--that’s right, you heard me, first part) but I wanted everyone to be notified ahead of time. So here is the warning:

I’ve never written anything like this next one I’m going to post. I’m not sure what to say. I’ve had this idea in my head for literal years. It’s definitely a TW for depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, etc. I thought it up in my head when I was having an extra rough time a few years back--probably about when I stopped posting so regularly. I never seriously considered ending my life, but I had been very unhappy without any real “reason” to be unhappy and wished I wasn’t alive a lot just a few short years ago. To be totally honest, I still feel this way a lot more frequently than I care to admit. So here I am on tumblr, talking to people who I’m not totally sure are still all there because I don’t even think I would wait around for me at this point.

I can’t really explain why I thought this up, can’t say anything about it is medically or socially accurate in any way, shape or form. I can’t really say why I want to post it now. Or why I want to write it out so I can see it in words.

I think at the end of it all, I really wanted someone to come and save me back then, y’know? And probably more than anything, I wanted Harry to come save me.

I’m always here if you want to talk to me and there are so many resources out there if you are feeling less than the beautiful and wonderful person that you are. If you need anything, please let me know; do not be shy, I like to think I’m back for a good long while and at the very least I’ll try to do a semi-sign off or hiatus warning before/if I leave again.

If you guys still like my writing, I want to be here--I always wanted to all this time I was MIA and I know you all have no reason to believe me, but I promise it’s true. Life just got so busy. It looks like the last time I was semi-active on any regular basis was 2018--when I got my first teaching job. Did you all know I’m currently in my FIFTH year of teaching? I started this blog in 2015--I was fresh out of high school and in my first year of college. I was all but a baby giving out shitty advice that I had no business giving.

Covid was the worst, as I know it was for all of you and probably way worse for a lot of you than it was for me. Teaching has been hell this year. Like I would give anything for a remote/hybrid learning in comparison to this horrible year. June can’t come quick enough--and if you all know me, I hate summer. I had this dream of teaching for so long and every day I wake up and feel like I’m...just broken. There’s no where for me to go anymore. 

So I’m doing what I do best and coming back on tumblr hoping some of you will forgive me and maybe read some of my new stuff (fortunately for you all I do think I’ve become a slightly better writer than I used to be). Over the last week even (?) it’s been a tremendous escape and I’ve missed you all so much.

If you are still reading thank you oh so much. You all mean the world to me. Truly. If you need advice I promise my advice isn’t shitty anymore and I am really so happy to talk to y’all about anything. I’ve missed being here so much. I’ve missed Harry so much. (Which you’ll be reading a lot about in the coming weeks, I think).

I say this with the truest intentions in the world: I love you all a lot and I am happy to chat about anything with you all whenever you need someone to listen to. Thank you so very much for sticking with me.

And to my newer followers, welcome to the show I’m so happy to have you here!

xoxo

Sam

[vminity21]

Beyond the Facade | knj

Pairing: handyman!namjoon X preacherskid!reader, bestfriend!taehyung X pregnant!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 10,958

Genre: mysterious/angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): strong language use, semi-detailed childbirth, mention of infidelity, alluding of a love triangle, evidence of a sheltered background, angst involving family matters, smut, losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play, hand groping, lots of flashbacks but that is the point of the story i sorry; Rated: 18+

Summary: A sheltered life leads to harbored secrets that are buried in order to protect someone you are falling in love with. As the time is nearing for the life growing inside you to be welcomed into the world, the reminiscences of all the moments unfold to reveal a beautiful story that needed to be told.

Credits to: @suhdays​ for making such a phenomenal header! The talent she has never ceases to amaze me!

The graying of the clouds is all you can see beyond your window other than the panging rain droplets now trickling upon the glass. Arm resting against your forehead, your lips press into a straight line in response to the series of thoughts circling your mind. Carefully, you slide your palms upon the mattress in an attempt to sit up, wanting to see more of the view besides the crying sky. Knuckles curling to rub your tired eyes, you furrow your brows, the comforting warmth of the bed covers remain tangled between your shins. Leafless trees border the side of the building save for a small swing set; a paved section decorated with a basketball hoop where a large shed stands many feet across from it. If one is to step outside the front of the structure, there sits a church surrounded by a gravel parking lot where the neighboring land hosts a barbed wire fence with an abandoned house and field.

It's been four months since you deemed the fellowship hall your home, and appreciatively, the area has been vacant since the falling of the church which saves even more stress than what you've been in since moving here. Achingly, your legs stretch to move off the bed before your feet land onto the grainy carpet. Your right-hand slips to steady your back, maneuvering your body to scoot to the bed frame, which has become a daily routine, weak fingers gripping the wood until your digits become pale white. Letting out a steady sigh, with all your strength you lift yourself to where you can stand, "Oomf," a small whimper escapes past your lips, tensing at the cringe plaguing your shoulders.

Being seven months pregnant sometimes has its perks, but this isn't one of them. Bending your body forward slightly, you step sluggishly toward your dresser, pulling out maternity clothes lent to you before the move.

"So, when are you going to tell us?" The soft murmur belonging to your mother echoes from the driver's side. Her expression submits an evident mixture of exhaustion and exasperation; though it's been a month since the announcement of your pregnancy, your mother is currently driving you to a doctor's appointment for a checkup on the baby to make sure everything is okay, "we have a right to know."

Arms crossed over your chest in mild annoyance, you bite the corner of your mouth until the side of your head meets the window, getting lost in the line of trees zipping by.

Waddling into the bathroom, the vague memory fades, your hand reaching to turn the knob of the shower. The squeaky sound along with rushing water splatters against the shower curtain sending a soothing jolt of excitement. Chilly air springs goosebumps over your limbs once you're freed of your clothes, waiting patiently for the water to warm before inching into the tub. When steaming liquid soon dribbles among your frame, a grin of satisfaction sparks brief happiness you needed an escape to. The heat of the downpour eases your aching bones, fingers clasping behind your neck to lean your head back, "Oh!" You gasp in surprise when the instant feel of a kick happens within your tummy. Eyes flutter down in the direction of your swollen belly, palms moving to caress it, "Look at you, what are you trying to do? Escape?" Cooing with a light giggle, when the baby kicks again, you can't help the giddy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Now, this- this is what you love about being pregnant. Finishing up, you dry your hair before swiftly dressing along with brushing your teeth.

Thoughts still pertaining to the small life growing inside you, you've decided since your first doctor's visit that you do not want to know your baby's gender until the day that you give birth. When you presented the idea to your mother, she was all on board, proclaiming how she had done that with your younger sibling. Running a brush through your hair, you skim one final look into the mirror formerly then head to exit the bathroom.

Gradually sauntering through the mini hallway, you're more zoned on the way your hand pats upon the wall in some form of maintaining stableness to the point you hardly notice almost slamming into a tall figure.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" A deep voice panics, raising his arms in a way to catch you though your arms mirror the same. Heart ramming, a breath of relief winds past your parted lips- your eyes scanning the slim legs that follow to the handsome face of Kim Namjoon. His eyes enlarged apologetically.

"Oh Namjoon, you scared me," a tender chuckle sets the feel of calm for he sees the amnesty etched in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, [Y/N], I was about to head out to mow the lawn, but just wanted to check and make sure you're okay," he timidly scopes the view of your huge abdomen, gulping once his hands rest loosely at his sides, returning his eyes to search yours before a sweet grin spreads upon your face.

"It's no biggie. Thank you for checking on me,"

His dimples show from the way his lips press in a tight smile, nodding in reply, timorously turning to waltz to the outdoors in preparation of the day ahead. You watch until he disappears from your line of vision; the creep of a blush burning from your chest to your cheeks. Raking your hands through your hair, you force yourself once again to deny the attraction seeping through your soul thankful your blush attacked after he left.

Kim Namjoon works for your father, making sure the church grounds continuously stay clean and cut creating a pretty environment to the eye. Protecting the land is another part of the job description- protecting it from any loiterers, wild animals, protesters, etcetera- maintaining flower bushes encircling the area as well as mini projects your father will want Namjoon to build. The swing set, including the shed, happen to be plans that Namjoon successfully constructed due to your father's wishes. In return, Namjoon is provided a place to live- the room that once held your father's office, is now changed into a bedroom.

It's strange for you to think about it now- how so much has changed in just seven months, when a year ago the church was thriving, unaware of the secrets that clouded within the audience. Squeezing your eyes shut, a reminiscent from the beginning of your pregnancy rears its head causing a tiny brink of nausea to form.

Taehyung's arms drape around you tightly, embracing you in all entirety that your eyes shut against the crook of his neck. Your fingers squeeze his shoulder, legs bent across his thighs while tepid tears spill onto your cheeks.

"Shhh," he tries to comfort, his breath tickling your exposed ear- your face still buried beneath his chin, "It's going to be okay," he whispers just as soft as the flicking fire burning amongst numerous candle wicks. Scents of vanilla blends with birch fitting the dimly lit bedroom that you're thankful exists other than the man refusing to let you go until you feel better.

"How?" You choke back another sob, "How am I going to tell my parents? How am I supposed to confront the church if that's what it comes down to? Shit... My dad is going to fucking kill me," Taehyung's shirt is soaked, but he could care less, tangling his long fingers into your hair to stroke the back of your head.

"Okay, now, you're being dramatic,"

"So, maybe I am? But you know very well that my parents aren't going to take this lightly,"

"Yeah, but I think it's safe to say that telling your parents you're pregnant is far better than if you were to tell them how you truly feel about religion,"

"Okay? Perhaps, you're right," a snippet of a frustrated huff leaves your trembling lips, "especially not with what's been going on with the church, I don't know how much more they can take,"

"Well, your dad should have thought of that before he had an affair with my mom," Taehyung's icy tone brings chills to your frame before he loudly swallows, lips firm from the anger boiling behind his almond eyes. Tendrils of his bright, red hair glow regardless of how dark the atmosphere is, and you hardly hold back the sheer pain stabbing your heart from the guilt you can't help but endure.

"Tae, I'm so so sorry,"

"Hey," he peers down at you, realizing he may have taken his comment too far, even though you're just as angry towards your father as your best friend is, "you didn't know," sniffling back the remaining mucus clogging your nostrils, you desire to face Taehyung no matter how foolish you think you may look, scooting your body to where your palm indents in his mattress next to his legs, his arm now rests around your waist, and for a split second, you're close enough to where the tempting appearance of his striking face beckons the strange glimmer of longing. A longing of curing whatever loneliness you're going through, but you're not the only one experiencing this moment for Taehyung's lips part just enough to plead your attention.

You can't stop yourself, and you don't, because before either of you comprehend, you close the gap letting the delicate wave of his kiss caress yours. "Tae," you breathe against his lips, reuniting with his kiss almost immediately while a dizzy spell of want travels through your chest. You know this isn't right. He knows this isn't right, but too many pent-up emotions between your hearts have gotten out of hand, and for now, all the two of you have is each other. His fingertips move to tenderly trail your jaw, gasping into his mouth when the tip of his tongue circles yours before you move to trap him in a perfect straddle. You need something, anything to feel whole again- something to forget about the people you lost and the people you will lose. And, if there's anyone in this world you do not want to lose it's him.

There's no refraining, there's no hesitation, just the growing pace of the kisses, and the way you're so enthralled with how beautiful he feels squeezing you tighter to him. "[Y/N]," he moans, hating himself for how far he wants to go with you, yet he craves your touch, nearly supplicates for it. You want to feel his skin, and the aching throb below you seems to deafen any other screams of stopping, and yet, your fingers move to the end of his shirt, peeling it just enough to expose the solid wall of his abdomen. "[Y/N]," he stops you, breaking the final kiss, his hand covering your wrist, while your eyes frantically search the side of his face, "We- we can't,"

You haven't seen him since, because of the boundaries that were crossed and would have been farther crossed if Taehyung had not had the strength to stop. The pair of you have been best friends since childhood, and neither of you wants to take anything beyond for the sake of feeling empty, but he assured you that night, even after your panic of apologies pouring from your mouth, after the humiliation that shackled your system, even after the daunting assumption that your friendship was over- he cupped your cheek, promising that he was still here and that he would never end your attachment over something, you both will never regret.

It's a secret you've suppressed for some time. Taehyung calls every so often when he can; dealing with his broken-hearted father on top of two jobs consumes every bit of his time. Yet, you can't help but miss him, the one person who loyally stayed by your side even when you came forward to your friends about your pregnancy. And, the one friend who still loves you all the same, even after discovering his mother's affair with your father.

Rage isn't enough to describe the resentment against your father, and ever since you told your parents that you were expecting, and ever since your move, you haven't spoken to him. You'll never forget how torn your mother was- depression weighing heavy on her, and that's something that's hard to forgive.

Your mother looks frail as she twiddles the crumpled tissue in her hands. Tears brim her eyes through the silence in the car, sparse sniffles breaking your heart into a million pieces. The two of you had just come back from the grocery store to restock the kitchen in your recently new home and are now parked at the church's back door to drop you off. You hesitated upon leaving because the thought of your mother having to return home to a place of remorse is the last thing you want for her. The promise of a car was granted to you, but you turned it down, refusing to accept anything from the man who caused so much pain to your family. To Taehyung's family.

Running the tissue underneath her eyes, she speaks, "[Y/N]?"

"Yeah?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but the guilt from how stressed your mother has been is something you wish you could carry instead of her. After the betrayal of your father as well as him resigning from the church to send people away from the place they once sought refuge in- on top of her oldest daughter being pregnant with her first child is already a lot to handle. The other frustration you bite your tongue from expressing is the fact of your parents refusing to let you get a job until the time after you give birth. You want to make the money to provide for yourself and your son or daughter without the dependence upon your parents- your mother especially, yet you're grateful for her adamancy on keeping you from any risks outside of the walls of your home.

It takes a moment before your mother gathers her words, "Do you- do you think you could ask Namjoon to help take you to the hospital? Whenever it's time... for you to have the baby?"

It was easier for your mother to ask that of you because he lived in the same building, and if any emergency of your water breaking happened earlier than expected, at least you would have someone available to take you to the hospital. Your gaze clears from the zone out you've had the whole time standing in the entrance of the hallway before Namjoon left. Turning on a heel, you decide to return to your bed, slipping under the covers- you're too wide awake to sleep as of now, yet the foam of the mattress eases the soreness of your back once you lean against the pillows.

-Four months earlier-

Queasiness envelops your abdomen to where you recognize the cue, rushing to the porcelain throne to heave whatever yellow liquid is left- spurting it into the toilet while you grimace through the pain. The door swings open behind you mixed with heavy footsteps quickening to you. When large hands swoop to hold your hair back, you don't have the strength to look at the intruder due to the continuous retching that deems you defenseless.

"It's okay, it's okay," the deep voice is soft, and relief brings tears to your eyes when you recognize it to be Kim Namjoon. You're embarrassed once your stomach gives you a break, your palms pressing to your forehead while you slump against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Namjoon scatters to find a tissue, patting the corners of your lips.

"You don't have to be sorry,"

"That... wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

A knowing glance is all he must give for you to share whatever thoughts you can't bring yourself to voice. He was your friend before all of this, yet you failed to mention to him about the pregnancy, and with him being the worker of the Church- he didn't discover your budding stomach until the day you moved in. His eyes flicker away from your stare toward the slight protrusion of your baby bump due to your ruffled t-shirt. He settles on the floor across from you, silence being the only conversation held. He isn't one to hold anger, and though you kept him unaware until your third month of pregnancy, he refuses to leave your side, making a pact to himself he will do whatever it takes to provide the care that you will need. As well as the little one.

Despite the emotional roller coaster, you remain amazed with how he keeps his patience with you. A day of depression to a random bout of laughter- memories turning of the betrayals of close friends who judged you immediately the day you put your trust in them- the freedom you craved away from the sheltered life your father forced upon you- even days where you can't seem to put your tears on pause, yet Namjoon holds you through every grieve.

"What if... what if I'm not good enough?" Your voice shakes between sobs- you had been dreaming restlessly yet another night, tossing within your bed to the point Namjoon came to check on you- rushing to pull you into his arms the moment your eyes fluttered to reveal pained tears. Your words nearly shatter him- pulling away just enough to where his eyes lock with yours.

"How can you say that, [Y/N]?" The faint light of your lampshade causes his face to glisten- angelically, you decide, yet the shadowing doubt of motherhood plagues you still, because what if you genuinely can't care for the child that you're six months away from holding? Fears encompass you like an ocean, smashing along your mind in harsh waves. "Look at me," are the words that snap you from whatever sea you were suffocating in to realize you had unintentionally switched your gaze from him. It's the calming effect the warmth of Namjoon's eyes bring when he exposes whatever faith he has in the woman you are and will become. "You're going to do just fine, believe me, I know it,"

Sniffling, you run the back of your hand along your chin where an escapee of a tear dangled, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because when have you ever given up on anyone that you care about," it's not a question, he's stating what he knows to be a fact. Something he learned of you when he first was hired to tend to the property. "You're stubborn when it comes to winning someone over. I was determined not to befriend anyone here. But you changed that for me, remember?"

A knowing tug of a smile trembles into a stretch upon your lips, "I do,"

"Same with the baby. I know you will love that little one more than life itself. It doesn't have a choice, and you'll let him or her know the second they're born,"

When a hearty snicker leaves your mouth, you notice the sticky feel of your drying face- you are no longer crying.

"You don't have to do this alone, [Y/N]. You showed me that even when I didn't know what else to do. Now, get some rest, okay? You have a doctor's appointment bright and early," the bed creaks from the gradual movement of Namjoon standing,

"Wait!" You speak before you can stop yourself, Namjoon immediately pausing- the heat of his arms is felt beneath your palms from your pounce of panic, and with evident chagrin, you shyly stare at his chest, "Can you uh, ... Can you stay in here with me tonight?" You've refrained from asking sooner due to the shame of not telling him the news that's become apparent, and even now, you haven't been able to comprehend how he's not the slightest bit angry with you. When his arms encircle you closer to his frame, no words need to be said because he's already answered by just this gesture. Nuzzling into his embrace, the side of his chin pressed to your forehead, "Whoever it is, I hope they grow up to be half the person that you are," you whisper, squeezing him tighter, infinite smiles now ending the night that cures any ounce of uncertainty.

By the fifth month of pregnancy, you finally come to the realization of how selfish you have been- it's no longer about you and your needs; it is now about the needs of your son or daughter growing within you. Namjoon catered to every grocery store trip, stocking the kitchen and in return, you choose to cook for him every meal, hoping to show as much appreciation to him that you can.

"Have you thought about any names?" Taehyung's voice muses on the other line of the phone, the sound of him bringing a small smirk upon your face. You've missed him terribly so, yet the acceptance of surprise phone calls is all you can settle with for now. At his question though, you pause with the tilt of your head, taking a quick sip of the broth that you're currently heating on the stove.

"No?" It's a brief question of guilt, something you haven't been ready to ponder, "Honestly... haven't thought that far ahead yet," you add in the vegetables to boil within the broth.

The familiar, deep chuckle is all you hear to gain an idea of what your best friend is about to say next, "I should have known,"

"Alright, Birkenstocks. What do you mean by that?"

"Breezing past that mistake. You named your Parakeet, Bird,"

"Well, in my defense, I was seven years of age,"

"And in my defense, playing basketball in Birkenstocks was supposed to start a trend,"

"Since how? I-"

"Ask Hoseok,"

"You lost a bet didn't you-"

"And, I will pay for it for the rest of my life, now won't I?"

"With me around, you will,"

Hoseok is the deacon's son who's dream of fashion has been shunned by his family, yet he designs in a sketchbook Taehyung hides for whenever Hoseok and he share the same work shifts. He's not one you have had the opportunity to communicate much with, but you're thankful Taehyung has someone to maintain a friendship with while you two have been apart. A short response of silence settles while your cheek and shoulder squeeze the phone for a moment as you stir the steaming vegetables.

"You could have named the bird, Tweety at least-"

"Oh!" You playfully growl, "Back with that again, huh?"

"Do I need to send you a link of baby names-"

"I promise you, Tae, I do not plan on naming my child, Kid, okay?"

"You'd be surprised-"

Taehyung's excitement for his future Godchild brings a simmering joy to the surface of your pattering heart. Almost as equal to the eagerness, your mother has shown with this being her first grandchild. Graciously, your mother has never been as strict as your father, hence why the past five months have gone much smoother then they would have if your father had never had an affair with Mrs. Kim.

The phone call ends whenever dinner is finished, and by that time, Namjoon scuffles through the door- the outdoorsy scent drifts to your nose while you place the sweltering bowls of soup on the table. Namjoon shimmers his feet from his work boots before hanging his coat, timidly glimpsing in your direction to confirm you're okay.

Small talk ensues with the typical questions of how each of your days has gone once the pair of you take your seats. One secret, yet another you and Taehyung have harbored, is the awareness of Namjoon's atheism- something your father must never learn of his worker. Namjoon, who will not admit it, works on the church grounds in order to provide for his family who lives a few miles up the road. Ultimately, there are many secrets not worth sharing to your parents, not only for the sake of sanity but for the protection of the ones who you've kept close, especially Namjoon. With your father being the tyrant of a priest, he used to be, there is still the potential distress of him firing Namjoon over the mere difference of beliefs. Something you refuse to let happen while you're around.

Clinking spoons replace conversation, for how long, you're uncertain; the fog of your thoughts seem to consume upon one in particular- something that has remained festering long enough, yet you have never said it aloud- figuring this moment may be the time that you do. Namjoon confided in you and Taehyung once he found comfort in trusting the pair of you- even subjects that one would have never expected him to open about. Guilt presents itself to the point your eyes squeeze shut, opening them to move your spoon to play at a piece of broccoli swimming in the potage.

"They don't know," your words are careful- slow even- continuing your vision on the dinner before you. You can feel Namjoon's soft eyes on you, his expression confused. "They don't know who the father is," that's when your gaze trails to meet his eyes just for more guilt to manifest behind them. By they, you're referring to your parents, as well as every other soul excluding Taehyung, "I won't tell them." Namjoon slowly nods with the sense of understanding, knowing the cost that will be taken if your father were to know who you're trying to bury beneath this web of fear. "Besides," you sigh heavily, "I'm surprised my father was lenient enough to let me live here," you confess, "if he wasn't so guilty over the affair, I would be homeless-"

"I wouldn't let that happen," Namjoon says suddenly, destroying whatever anger you were dwelling upon. Your mouth falls open in shock at his words and the frilly flutter of your heartbeat is hard to ignore. After living here for two months, he's proven time and time again that he means what he says; what he just said. Speechless, the rest of dinner continues in fond silence, your heart refusing to steady for the man slowly captivating your heart.

The sixth month of pregnancy gifts swollen feet and aching bones on top of your belly growing heavier by the week. Namjoon has stayed loyal- tending to your pregnancy cravings in the dead of night, aiding to your discomfort whether it involves a heating pack or a cup of ice, slipping under the covers on nights you want him to hold you, driving you to every doctor's appointment without any hesitation; with all that he's been doing for you, it's like your feelings have blossomed deeper which you know shouldn't be happening with the peril of your father finding out. The unexpected visits from your father are few, yet you usher the reminder to yourself of protecting Namjoon, though he carries the weight of facing your father instead of you who avoids the confrontation.

Night comes quickly after a day spent cleaning up the nursery that seems to be coming together, other than the crib Namjoon's been building- something you accidentally discovered when strolling close to the shed one sunny day. He's so dedicated to the unborn infant, it nearly brings you to tears, glancing around the elegant hues of multiple pastel colors painted across the room with stuffed animals, blankets, and furniture he continues to gift you amongst different items your mother has added to the collection. You always enjoy the sporadic visits from your mother, because she's free to celebrate the life that she refuses to consider as a sin.

"Are you thinking boy or girl?" Your mother elbowed your side earlier today after moving around the furniture.

"Hm," you hummed happily, thankful for the relationship that's being redeemed with her, "you know? I'm not very sure,"

"I can tell from all the colors you've chosen," she teased, "it looks beautiful," she cooed, pulling you into an accomplished side hug. You didn't want to stick to just pink or blue, so you chose every other shade in between, colliding the space with colors that could go for either or. "You're going to be a wonderful mother,"

The sound of the front door opens distracting you from the former memory, staring down at the table that now rests heaping plates of chicken and rice. The fellowship hall used to be filled with numerous rows of horizontal tables mingled with circular ones where the crowd would come to camaraderie to joyful hymnals, delicious food, reflected testimonies without any warning of the secrecies soon floating to the surface. Now a solo table, the one planted before you, pairs with a few sparse chairs just enough to seat at least four people.

"Hiya," you greet, trying to ignore the subtle increase of your heartbeat. Namjoon flashes a kid-like smile once he shutters out of his jacket, "How was your day?"

"It was good, thank you," he replies, taking long strides until he makes it to you, "How was yours with your mom?" His right-hand steadies the small of your back while his left one clutches yours to help settle you into your seat. It's hard to focus on the question he just asked when the scent from outside seems to heighten the attraction you already feel towards him, "It was good," you manage to say, reaching for the silverware to begin digging into your food, "Thank you... For helping me," the distance between your stomach and the table now is something you've been trying to get used to as well as the turmoil of trying to stand and sit.

"Anytime."

A blush floods your cheeks when he holds your timorous stare, so you avert your eyes to your dinner, letting the obvious feeling of Namjoon watching deepen the red shade on your skin. A few minutes disappear into time before you feel a shove against your abdomen from the inside. Your hand instinctively flies to press upon the baby bump, Namjoon jumping at the motion, stopping mid-chew, while his eyes enlarge in surprise.

"It's okay," you chortle at his reaction, "it's just the baby kicking," his response reminds you of the moment you felt the baby kick for the very first time- similar to a weird flutter that's hard to describe, and it had taken you a second to realize what it was exactly- just your baby making its presence known to you. Namjoon swallows the bite of food in a nervous gulp, the pang of his silverware mutes from where he lays it on the napkin.

"Here," you murmur affectionately preparing to stand to your feet. Namjoon immediately jolts from his chair, rounding the table to gather your hand in his. Instead of relying on his strength to help you position yourself, you plop back onto the seat, sliding his hand to the area where the baby kicked a few minutes prior. Namjoon kneels to level with you, his plump lips ajar mirroring the widen stance of his eyes while he patiently waits, his nervous heart pounding in his temples. It's the exuberant joy in his smile that meets his eyes in a dazzling glow the pure second the baby kicks again, and the bliss of delight smothers your heart in so many ways imaginable at this moment the pair of you are capturing together. Your hand remains resting upon his while your eyes lock repudiating from breaking contact.

"I told you that you don't have to do this alone," he whispers, and it's then you come to the awareness of how near his face is from yours, his dimples visible from his smile to the point you press your lips to each one, shocked at your act of boldness, but you can't refrain. He's too handsome and too wonderful to stay away from any longer. That's all the invitation needed, for Namjoon's lips brush yours igniting the sparks of what you've been trying to suppress for way too long. Your fingers find his hair when he leans to deepen the kiss, moving his hands to rest on the chair, fingers pressing into the wood until pale white.

At this moment, you don't care what anyone thinks.

You are in love with Kim Namjoon, and there is nothing in this world that's going to scare you away from that.

-Present day-

The pitch black outside the window brings frustration when you awaken to scold yourself for how long you've slept. Gathering yourself once the fatigue rolls off, you cautiously sit up, scooting to the bedpost until you're on your feet. Taking a trip to the restroom, you notice upon exiting the clock on the wall reads seven pm, and you wonder if Namjoon has made it inside for the evening. It's eerily quiet save for the air conditioning, but you pause when you see the lights are on in the main area of the building. Shrugging, you waddle around the corner until the sudden shouts of, "SURPRISE!", nearly knocks you to the ground.

Gasping, your eyes widen while your hand flies to your chest. A prolonged second interferes before your brain deciphers the two individuals cheering before you. Numerous pink and blue balloons hover to the top of the ceiling matching the colors of a cloth decorating the one table now adorned with a cake and wrapped gifts. "What?" You can barely speak from the light headiness taking over, but the tears that well in your eyes when you see the boxy smile of your best friend sends you in an attempt to run just to crash into his arms. He meets you halfway, surrounding you within his embrace as he rocks you back and forth muffling your wails of joy into his checkered sweater. Your soaked cheeks are wiped away from the material as been done countless times before, and his tepid palms squish your cheeks when he steps back to gesture toward your belly.

"Wow look at you! Your belly is huge!"

"I'm still in denial of how fast this pregnancy is going!" You say breathlessly, you're so happy to see Taehyung, you can hardly contain your composure. Namjoon steps forward with his hand reaching to squeeze your best friend's shoulder. Taehyung's fiery strands are curled upon his forehead, lustrous beneath the lights as it always has before, "Your father let you come?" There's a seriousness behind your voice at the question because you are cognizant of the fury Tae's father has against the church from the events that occurred what, in some ways feels like a lifetime ago.

"Well, no," Taehyung winces mischievously, "I told him that Namjoon and I were going to a basketball game,"

"Of course, you did, you sly fox,"

"You know you love me," Tae pecks your forehead before leading you to the table where the sweet whiff of cake flatters your nostrils.

"You guys didn't have to do this," you're still wiping tears off your face, though it's evident that your crying is from untainted gratitude, "What did I do to deserve the two of you?"

Namjoon kneels, intertwining his long fingers with yours, using the tip of his thumb to tickle circles upon your skin, "Taehyung mentioned how when you were kids that you loved surprises, especially if it involved a small party of some sort so," he tilts his head toward Taehyung, "And I knew how much you missed him, too. I just wanted to do something to celebrate you. And, the baby,"

It doesn't take much to smother this man in kisses nowadays, and once you express your thankfulness to the men before you, Namjoon reads your mind, snatching a small kiss in return.

"You two are on kissing terms, again?" Taehyung teases while you poke your tongue at him in mild embarrassment. Namjoon does not know of the moment you and Tae shared, and that's something you're not ready to talk about, and with the cutesy scrunch of Namjoon's face, the memory escapes to the back of your mind for now.

By the end of the night, the frosting had met all three of your faces- some smushed into Taehyung's hair while some swiped across Namjoon's neck, and your eyebrows are smeared along with the possible suspicion of some getting up your nose. Cleaning the mess takes a while, but nobody in the room would trade it for anything, and it's good stalling to prevent the night from completely ending.

Walking Taehyung to his car is the only dread overwhelming your system because you're not sure of when you will get to see him next. Tears flood your eyes, breaking Taehyung's heart as an awe of shame gusts past his lips, "I'm sorry, [Y/N]. My dad's expecting me home soon,"

"I don't want you to go," you choke, on the brink of bursting at the seams- Tae fumbles to tighten his arms behind your back- him trying to be mindful of your abdomen being pressed too firmly against his frame.

"Please don't cry," he whispers near your ear, "Please, please don't cry," His lips curl from the tears burning within his own eyes wishing with all his strength he could rid of the aching hurt that has kept your friendship separated. Tae swiftly pulls away when he remembers another present, he meant to give you earlier, whirling around to unlock his car, bending into the vehicle while his hands shuffle around the floorboard in a desperate search for whatever he wants to show you. When he turns to face you, a sharp inhale of glee echoes into the night- the lopsided plush of a heart is attached to a blue body ornamented with yellow polka dots that match its mouth. "Oh my gosh!" You squeal, "Tae, it's adorable! Where did you find this?"

Wiggling his eyebrows in pride, he hands it to you, "I made it myself. And," he pauses for effect, "since you have trouble naming things, I did the honors and named it for you. I introduce, Ta Ta."

"Ta Ta?"

"Yeah, like 'Ta Ta... for now,'"

"Just when I thought I couldn't love your dork of a self even more," you exhale, slamming your eyes shut just to bury your face further into his chest, not able to breathe in his scent from the clog of mucus stuffing your nose.

"I love you, too." His voice thickens with emotion, "Now, quit saying it like you're never going to see me again, because you know I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" Your cold nose moves to press into the corner of his jaw where steady breaths move between your parting mouth. It's a serene moment where he turns just enough to glimpse at you, engaging in the beauty he's always found within your heart. Taehyung's agape lips now rest centimeters from yours when his large hands raise to rest his fingertips along your flushed cheeks- the curls of his frizzy hair pressing to your forehead, prickling your closing eyes. You discover your free hand enfolding around his wrist from the daunting desire looming from what's been left unspoken, and the shiver in his breathing brushes your chin once the light touch of his nose cuddles to yours. You both stand there for a seeming reel of eternity, battling the inward mayhem of choice that's displayed itself on the invisible line tempting to be traversed.

"I promise."

He hadn't kissed you, but there was no denial that he wanted to, especially with the way your face has haunted his dreams since the night your lips met in emotional patterns of sorrow. But, deep down, he knows it's too obvious of a choice if the one for him is to be you, but the love that has been kept for you will never go away. The same as a tether of your heart will forever be his no matter how deep your love goes for someone else. Kim Taehyung will always be your poise- your muse- the soulmate of a friendship that you will always need.

Toddling to the nursery upon Tae's departure still presents the boiling tears from your tired eyes dripping off your cheeks as you set Ta Ta beside the koala plushie Namjoon gifted you; the humor involving the struggle of both Taehyung and Namjoon carrying the crib Namjoon built for the baby taunts a smirk at the corner of your lips. It's dark besides the faint light of the hallway behind you, giving you just enough to admire the scenery around you- sniffling back what you can before reaching to cover your quivering chin with your hand. You've missed Taehyung. You miss him. And, how beautiful of Namjoon to surprise you with your best friend's presence? Reuniting the three musketeers from once upon a time?

Little do they know, from the unearthing of your pregnancy to now, the two men have mended your broken heart and stitched it back together again piece by piece. You're highly uncertain of where you would be without them, and just the thought alone is one you refuse to dwell on. While memories turn like a spindle of loosened thread, a revelation halts you in your tracks. The thought rings loud and clear gracing a wide smile on your face while one more set of tears dampen the corner of your eyes.

After scolding yourself for so long for not thinking hard enough on the subject,

right here, hands grasping the handlebar of your future child's cradle,

you finally have a name picked out for your little one.

-

2 months later....

"Namjoon, I'll be fine," the pointed look you flash him prompts a nervous chuckle once his hands rest to rub gently along your sides. He's concerned as he's been almost the entire pregnancy, but of course, now his worries are heightened to an extreme, "I'm not due until next week. Don't worry,"

"I know," he groans, tugging you closer just enough to plant a warm to kiss to your neck, "But, I can't help it."

"I'll be fine," you drag the word with a teasing sound of a whine. Namjoon shaking his head at you with a smile you're now feeling upon your lips. "Mm," you hum into his kiss, your hands sliding to squeeze his shoulders in reaction to how impeccable it feels. You end the moment simply to gaze at him, "You'll be back before you know it," you assure him- his trip to the grocery store being the plan for the afternoon.

"Okay," he says tenderly, eyes flickering to your lips once more before leaning to brush them to his own, "I love you,"

There's a small pause, one that entails warmth smothering your chest in giddy sensations when his eyes steal yours after pulling away, "I love you, too, Joon," watching him head out the door until the truck disappears along the road.

Of course, the day doesn't go accordingly the way you expect, because on carefully prodding to the kitchen in preparation to cook breakfast, a slight ache ensues within your abdomen. "Oh," you groan, stroking the area with your fingertips before deciding to lay down for a bit instead. When reaching your room, the sharp pain of a cramp returns causing a harsh cringe as you lean against your bedpost, hardly able to concentrate on the attempt of climbing onto the mattress. You remain hunched over for five minutes, forcing slow breaths to prevent from panicking, and when you find the coast to be clear, you straighten yourself out.

Suddenly, before you can comprehend what's happening, a gush of water splatters onto the carpet soaking your feet in the process.

"No," you whisper, eyes frantically scanning your room for your cell phone. Namjoon shouldn't be far with the grocery store only being a few miles away, but in order to get a hold of him, you must find your only way of contacting him. Hands pat your bed, thrusting off the bed covers and shaking them roughly, yet no 'thump' is heard before you cast the covers in a pile onto the ground. The next destination leads to the restroom, with no luck of your phone being in your bedroom- when another wave of pain shoots within your stomach, you gasp, trying to endure through the discomfort with all your might.

Leaving a water trail behind with every step you take, you desperately search the countertops before stepping into the area that holds the kitchen, wondering if there is any possibility it may have been left behind there. Your feet meet the cool surface of the tile floor, your gape scanning the entirety of the space before a pant of relief escapes past your dry lips the second your shaking hands gather the device. "Agh!" A contraction surges, hands squeezing your phone unintentionally, yet you grimace just enough to maintain your focus on the task at hand. Managing to get the phone ringing, it doesn't take long until you hear the man of your dreams at the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Joon, it's time," you choke, voice thick with pain.

"Oh, shit! Hold on tight, I'm on my way, just hold tight, I'm coming-"

You just happen to be running by the church in favor of dropping off the work truck keys to your father when he unintentionally introduces you to the new employee you assume he plans to hire, "[Y/N], this is Kim Namjoon. He's going to be taking care of the church grounds for us, isn't that wonderful?"

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," you greet, underlyingly suffering from the attraction swarming to your reddening cheeks. When your father mentioned of hiring, you never anticipated the person to be this overwhelmingly breathtaking.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ma'am," Namjoon's polite nod mirrors the dimples evident from a soft grin, his hand reaching for yours to shake before your father continues the tour of the place you've grown up memorizing. But something initiates you to stay, eyes lingering on the back of the tall figure decked in a turtleneck covered by a green jacket complementing a pair of jeans along with brown shoes. There's a spark of intuition that day, one that ignited the prominent determination that you want to get to know this person even if your father ends up finding out.

Namjoon busts through the door with pure alarm etched in his voice, "[Y/N], I'm here! Baby, I'm right here," he immediately jumps to where you are, keeled over on the floor, throwing his arm around you until he lifts you out of the fellowship hall and into the work truck. Words you attempt to form are muted by whimpers, tears brimming your eyes from the pain that doesn't end, "I'm going to grab the suitcase, I'll be right back," time must be faster than you can measure for Namjoon arrives, slinging the suitcase into the backseat before slamming into the driver's side.

It takes a while for the newly found employee to warm up to every opportunity you take in order to get to know him. One thing he's slowly but surely learning is that you're not one to give up so easily- something you've noticed him picking up on, especially on days, you annoy him when he's on call to build a project. You make it clear to talk to him nonstop until he acknowledges your existence, and the times he doesn't breathe a word results in a call to Taehyung.

"Come help me," you plea hearing Taehyung's exasperated sigh on the other line.

"You are so annoying,"

"You know you love me, fool," you gloat because with defeat, your best friend reluctantly joins you, even accompanying a basketball just in case if Namjoon happens to fancy sports. Your girlfriends, Luna and Jo, were informed of your undying crush on the mysterious worker, crossing their arms in jealousy that you half-heartedly ignored.

"He doesn't even come to the services," Jo droned, "Don't you think it'd be best to get to know someone that's more... active in the church? Like the pianist's son, Min Yoongi. You two had such a cute relationship when you were three-"

You can't get past why no one seems to understand that you must win Namjoon over, and though Luna and Jo have seen the world along with you since childhood, you roll your eyes, turning on a heel, "I'll catch you later,"

Tires screech along the road while Namjoon swerves past cars on the highway, hands ghost white from the tight grasp he has upon the steering wheel. Meanwhile, your hand grips the bar above you while your other rests upon your belly- the keenness of getting to hold your baby in your arms is all you're thinking about other than Namjoon who's keeping you sane.

"Just a few more miles and we will be there. Just breathe," his voice is unsteady from the fright of this situation, but he upholds his enlarged gaze upon the road. He fumbles for his phone- trying to contact anyone from your family in order to tell them the news.

"GAH!" Leaning forward, a wail echoes within the vehicle as another contraction attacks.

"You guys aren't going to stop until I'm your friend, am I right?" Namjoon's elbows are folded from the hold he has on the basketball meeting his chest. Tae jumps sporadically in front of him with outspread arms preparing to prevent the ball from flying into the hoop.

"Damn straight," you shrug your shoulders in observation of Namjoon's tilting head.

"I thought church girls didn't cuss,"

"And I thought you'd have more game than the basketball," You retort.Tae halts, straightening his frame, eyes flickering between you and a quiet Namjoon, "Now hurry up. If you win, I will leave you alone for good. If Tae wins then we treat you to dinner and a movie. How does that sound?"

With an incredulous shake of his head, Namjoon smirks, "Okay," the scuffle of his converse is heard on the pavement when he briefly turns to toss the ball toward the hoop. The basketball pangs the ring, twirling ferociously to the point, your heart begins to sink, but to your pleasure, the ball tips off the rim, landing in a rejoicing Taehyung's arms.

"HAH!" You sprint, colliding into Taehyung's embrace while Namjoon tries to stifle the smile overtaking his lips, "Looks like it's going to be a burger and fries' kind of night," you wink, unaware of the hope that Namjoon has of wanting to gain your friendship just as much.

The hospital entrance appears after the rush of Namjoon turning into the parking lot soon helping you out of the truck. The suitcase will have to wait being he can retrieve it later, his ultimate goal is getting you within the building to where you're safe. "It's okay, it's okay," he tries to appear relaxed, but everything becomes a blur until a nurse with fluffy, black hair approaches with a wheelchair to help settle you in. His nametag reads 'JIMIN' – him rolling you quickly down the hall when the presence of a female nurse whose nametag reads 'MONNIE' helps you change into the nightgown upon arrival of the hospital room. Voices are mingling together from the pounding in your temples, but Monnie keeps her hands gentle on your back to lead you to the bed where she hooks you up to what seems like a million machines whilst providing as much comfort to you as possible.

Namjoon's calloused hand covers yours when one other nurse, Jungkook, floods the room, bringing a chair for him to sit in. You're not sure of all the commotion that's overwhelming the room, but you steady your breathing as Namjoon directs, squeezing his hand through each contraction. You recognize the doctor, Kim Seokjin, a tall man already dawned in a scrub hat, mouth mask and gloves, scurrying to where you are, "Alright, I am going to check your dilation Ms. [Y/N], just breathe in and out." Slamming your eyes shut, you whimper from the discomfort, "Alright, she is dilated three centimeters. Once you are at ten centimeters [Y/N], you will begin pushing. No worries, I will alert you as soon as I need you to begin. Keep breathing. Everything will be okay,"

"Taehyung... My mom... Dad-" you murmur deliriously between breaths, the foggy sense of your conscious outweighing how to speak properly.

"No worries baby, they're on their way. They're on their way right now," he sweetly kisses your perspired forehead, running his free hand through your tangled hair.

The three musketeers were official after the day at the basketball hoop, eventually learning of Namjoon's atheism as well as him providing for his family.

"My dad couldn't find a job that pays enough, so I promised him that I will do whatever it takes," it had been six months since Namjoon had been hired, and currently is finishing his final paint to the shed while you and Taehyung sit Indian style in the grass. "Thanks to the job here, I can afford the rent for my parents as well as give them my car since here, I just use the work truck..." Namjoon sharing more in-depth with his life story- you finally get what you've been determined to gain since meeting him.

It's weeks later that you'll never forget, leaning against a mini, red monkey bar after sharing your feelings toward the man you've grown so fond of. There's no denying the feelings he's had for you, and once he inches closer, the crave to hold his hand has never been stronger. Boldly, your fingers trail to intertwine with his, your nerves close to getting the best of you despite the persistent smile that hasn't left him. When you find the bravery to look up at him, he swallows calmly before leaning in, you stand on your tiptoes to meet halfway until your lips touch. The slide of his arms encompassing your frame feels so inviting when he presses his body to yours. The world is put on pause to you and nothing else matters other than the way his lips move so elegantly- your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he sways you from side to side.

Time doesn't seem to speed up through all this pain, but the adrenaline swimming in your veins peaks when Dr. Seokjin prepares to check your dilation again. "Ten centimeters-" He confirms, "Alright, [Y/N], the baby's coming. When I say push, you push. Okay," he positions himself though you can't see anything past your gown and raised knees, "One, two, three! Push!"

"AGH!" You grunt, a small scream vibrating at the back of your throat once you push with every fiber of strength, you can muster.

"Breathe, breathe," Namjoon's hand hasn't once left yours- sweat pouring from your scalp while the burning agony overpowers your body.

"Is she here!?" The click of darting heels enters the room and are loud enough for it to catch your attention. "Oh, honey, I'm here!" It's your mother- scampering to your side with the undeniable blur of Taehyung's red hair following suit. You want to ask where your father is, but before a chance is given, the doctor shouts, "Push!"

"AAAAAAAGH!" You manage, body straining in all its entireness. Taehyung jolts to let you squeeze his hand along with Namjoon's. His features show nothing but fear at the sight of you being in so much strife, yet he holds it together enough to cheer you on.

"I'm- I'm so glad you both are here," you cry- another sixty seconds drifting before the shout of, "Push!" erupts.

"I'm scared," you murmur in the dimness of the room. On your knees, Namjoon's soothing hands glide along the tops of your thighs motivating you to run your hands along his forearms. You don't know where your parents are, and you're too angry to care. You're bushed of the fighting so, you sought comfort in being here, with Namjoon. Taehyung dropped you off at the fellowship hall with the promise of not breathing a word- because if your parents were to find out remotely of your whereabouts, you'd hate to discover what the consequences will be.

"Me too," his nervous eyes investigate every inch of your face. You've never been with anyone this way before- secretly hidden away from the world outside trying to suppress the revealing crave of what you're curious about. Scooting forward, you drape either leg around him, propping yourself enough to where your arms lace around his neck.

His breath hitches from the gesture- your lips erotically aligning with his in slow movements, heat rising below you when you feel the hardening of his being beneath your sense, "I want you," you whisper. He knows that you're a virgin, and with care, he lays you on the bed, hovering above your frame where your bodies align perfectly. "Are you sure this is what you want," concern consumes his countenance, but you desperately bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I don't think I've wanted anyone so much in my life,"

You gasp into his kiss where he slips his tongue along yours- the sensation one you've grown used to from the slovenly kisses leading up to this very night. You give Namjoon permission to sneak his large hands underneath your shirt, trailing up your ribcage before swallowing your breasts whole in his heated palms. Nipples so sensitive, your heat drenches the moment he realizes the effect it has on you just by merely brushing the rising buds, lipping at your neck while he basks in the beauty of your moans. "More," you beg, "Please, Joon, more." When clothes start to be thrown off, you're determined to pleasure him, but have not an idea on how to do so. "Show me," you breathlessly demand, Namjoon's palm leading yours to encircle his twitching being. You stroke his erection as shown, biting your lower lip from the throbbing feeling of your core- him instantly finding your entrance to fill it with his fingers as carefully as he can- both of you pleasuring each other, yet still getting lost in kissing so deeply, the two of you forget to gasp for air. The sensation of heated pressed bare skin can be the most beautiful thing, especially with the way your legs entangle with his. You're surprised the feel of his prodding fingers didn't bring as much discomfort as you would have originally anticipated, but when he brings a hand to his penis, he rubs his tip along your slit letting the sloppy sound of you leak onto it. "Holy shit," he moans from how soaked you are for him- his fingertips finding your clit while yours dig into the backs of his shoulders.

Smoldering kisses move from your lips to your breasts, down your abdomen to your inner thighs where you tense underneath his touch that slides to hold your bottom half where he can scan your heat. The tip of his tongue swipes upon your slit excruciatingly slow to the point your fingers tangle with the material of the bedsheets. The smacking sound of his lips savor your taste while his tongue circles your core- you're hyperventilating from how deliciously he flicks his tongue upon your slit, screaming his name relentlessly- the speed of his skilled mouth driving you wild from the growing climax beckoning your stiffening thighs, "Oh, Namjoon, oh- Joon- I- Oh!"

He's not ready for you to finish because there's more he wants to show you. Hovering above you once again to see you coming down from your high, your heaving chest longs for his touch, and he nearly comes undone from the smile embellishing your face. His tracing fingertips parade along the outline of your body in featherlike tickles while the sounds of panting breaths mingle with shifting sheets bring subtle music to your ears for the rest of the night. The gentle parting of his lips grasps your own in smooth movements persuading arousal streaming from your core. Your fingers now link with frilly tufts of his hair, gripping the strands in reaction to the pressing of his bare chest to yours, dreaming of nothing more than to be entwined with him for what you hope will be forever. Hips grinding into yours prompts the light moan teasing his ears for more before his mouth trails to pause above your pounding heart. His hair brushing your chin, your arms glide to wrap around him holding the hope that he will never let you go. Not even for a second.

"Alright, one more! Almost done! Push!"

Sucking in one long breath, with a compulsory scream, you push with all you have left in you. Exhaustion weakens your limbs, yet a rush of relief floods your body when the cries of an infant reverberate within the room. With heavy eyes, you turn to see your mother with tears cascading down her face and onto the back of her hand covering her agape mouth- eyes remaining locked in front of her. Taehyung's gaze doesn't drop though his fingers loosen from yours at the small bundle immediately apprehending the eyes of every individual. Right then, you move your head to your other side where Namjoon gradually rises in awe- his hand still has yours. Gathering any ounce of strength, you're ready to see the child you've been waiting to hold for nine months, so cautiously you sit up until your stare meets Dr. Seokjin's. You can see the smile in his eyes despite the mouth mask, and what he says next brings you to tears, "It's a girl,"

"Oh!" You thrill, anxious to meet her while the nurses scurry to clean her up.

"Sir, would you like to do the honors?" The doctor gestures a pair of scissors towards a stiffened Namjoon whose eyes are welled with hushed tears. He can't even speak, yet he nods from the happiness exploding beneath his chest.

"Wait," Your mom says, "Is- is?"

It's a moment that seems to fit the setting for your father walks in, as if on cue, shoulders slumped from the anticipating tension now darkening the room. Taehyung's shoulders tensed at the sight of the man he despises, but for the sake of you, Namjoon and his Godchild, he keeps his composure enough to ignore the elephant now standing in the room. The fear that used to consume you upon your dad unraveling the truth about your secret vacates you when you know that you and the two men present can conquer anything.

"Yes," the answer is to your mother, but your stern glower of warning is only connected with your dad's although your mother's stare remains on you, "Namjoon is the father."

Namjoon stands with pride while he accepts the pair of scissors from Dr. Seokjin- your father, with a shocked expression, watches as the man he hired happens to be the same man who stole his daughter's heart without his knowledge. Yet, he refrains from anger, because who is he to ruin such a precious moment about to unfold here?

Pictures are taken of Namjoon cutting the umbilical cord, his fingers gently rubbing his daughter's cheek while he wipes at the tears dripping from his eyes. Jungkook takes her into his arms to weigh her before wrapping her in a plush pink blanket, "She is seven pounds and five ounces,"

Endless joy envelops your heart from the scene playing out before you; especially, when the vision of your father's quivering chin, admiring his granddaughter leaves you speechless along with the hope of redemption entering your beating heart.

"Are you ready to hold her?" Monnie's kind eyes match her smile when she touches your arm.

"Yes," you stifle a sob, "I want to hold her,"

Monnie poses her arms to where Jungkook places your daughter, Monnie guardedly turns to rest your baby into your arms. Her small face chortles, her eyes closing while she puckers her tiny lips. "She's so perfect," you cry, love in all its beauty falling from your eyes while you watch your daughter's fingers fold individually upon her chest.

"Just like you," Namjoon whispers, locking eyes with you before inching forward to give you a loving kiss.

"I love you, Joon," you whisper, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

"I love you, too."

"Uh," the deep serenade of your best friend interrupts, all attention abruptly turning to see him raise an index finger in the air, "So, as the Godfather, I must ask a very serious question," the room chuckles along with him as they patiently wait for his request, "What's her name?"

"Ah," you nod, realizing that hasn't been made known to anyone other than to yourself. Your mother steps forward to place her hand upon your shoulder while your father keeps his distance enough to not cause any trouble- though the two of you share a small smile to let him know all is well. Namjoon watches you in admiration- the woman of his dreams holding his child in her arms while facing her deepest fear yet holds her head with pride about the man she will spend the rest of her life with along with her daughter swaddled to her chest. You are everything he's ever longed for and more, and he's ready to defeat any storm in life if it's with you and his daughter.

To answer Tae's question though, you return to face him, tears gathering in exhilarating bliss.

"Taejun." Her eyes slightly open at the hearing of her name as a tiny smile adorns her lips,

"Her name is Kim Taejun."

[five-rivers]

Pep Talks 12

I think this might be the longest chapter of Pep Talks so far...

(AO3)

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When Clockwork first took Danny on as an apprentice, he’d laid out some ground rules for when he unexpectedly found himself in an unknown timeline. As Apprentice of Time, Danny was more likely to attract anomalies like natural portals and the like, and when that was combined with his innate bad luck regarding portals, well… winding up in weird places wasn’t quite a weekly occurrence, but saying it was wouldn’t have been a huge exaggeration.

That’s all to say, Danny appreciated the rules. He didn’t want to wind up never having been born again, or, worse, making it so that one of his friends had never been born. Or causing an apocalypse. Or wrecking the future. Or—

There were just a lot of problems that he could, and had, caused.

If Clockwork were able to pick Danny up right away every time, most of the rules probably would have been unnecessary. But he wasn’t. Mostly because of physics-shaped problems involving paradoxes and how too many time portals in the same general area could screw things up, but also because of Observant- and politics-shaped problems. And, Clockwork had admitted to Danny, sometime Clockwork left him somewhere because he was supposed to be there.

The first rule was to lay low. Avoid people when possible, except to acquire basic necessities. Avoid major events, crowds, protests, and cameras. Avoid important-looking buildings.

Do not offer help unless asked first, or unless the person is a ghost. There was, evidently, a loophole that made it okay for Danny to interact with ghosts even in places where it wasn’t okay for him to do the same to humans. Clockwork had said ghosts fell under Danny’s ‘jurisdiction,’ a term that seemed just a bit too weighty with meaning for Danny. As for being allowed to help when asked… Well, Clockwork knew that Danny was incapable of not helping. Although he did ask that Danny be subtle and indirect about it.

He was also not supposed to fight anyone unless he himself was directly attacked, for similar reasons.

The fourth rule was to stay within the accepted rules of the world he found himself in, where possible. In other words, if people generally didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural, don’t challenge that belief by using his powers in public, but if superpowers were common, it was okay to use them.

The fifth was that, if he found himself in the past, leave civilized areas. With the threat of unpersoning himself hanging over his head, Danny took that one very seriously.

The sixth, the one that made Danny feel like a little kid despite his real age, was, if the previous rule didn’t apply, try to stay in the same general area he first found himself in.

There were others, of course, and special ones for special circumstances. For example, if he was captured by law enforcement, or injured, or actively in danger, or if he didn’t know what time period he was in. Different sets of rules prevailed if he was actually on a mission.

Clockwork had also told him that the rules no loner applied if it took him more than two weeks to find Danny. That, if he’d been waiting for that long, something had gone wrong, or Clockwork was unable to find him or pull him out.

It had been just under half that time, and Danny was starting to get worried. More worried.

He pulled his legs up, closer to himself. He didn’t need to conserve warmth, being what he was, but the action was comforting and the abandoned warehouse he was in was weird and creepy.

This whole timeline was weird and creepy. Also, semi-apocalyptic. They were going through some serious societal upheaval. Danny wasn’t entirely sure why, having only been here for six days, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the nascent ghosts partially overshadowing people and giving them power.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Danny wasn’t sure. The next nearest thing to this he’d ever encountered was a warlock, and that had been just one person. Ghosts were under his jurisdiction, but, like the warlock, the people with powers here didn’t quite feel like ghosts, and he wasn’t sure how trustworthy news sources saying that metahumans were all soulless degenerates were…

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to find out. Hopefully, Clockwork would pick him up before another week went by.

He didn’t think the government here could actually catch him, but some of the things they apparently did to metahumans made his core ache. It was a very X-Men-like situation. Except, well, set in Japan.

Why Japan?

But! Eight more days. Tops. Clockwork would get him.

Before he’d finished the thought, something blew the door of the warehouse in and a ropelike appendage hurtled towards Danny’s corner.

He reacted. Rules were, if someone attacked him, he could respond in kind, and if superpowers were common knowledge, he could use his.

There were at least a dozen of them, all of them displaying an eclectic array of superpowers, some reminiscent of Danny’s ghostly enemies, others entirely novel to him. A fair few also had guns. One man even used multiple powers. Needless to say, the battle was incredibly one sided.

In Danny’s favor.

Hey, he’d been doing this for years, and he was very comfortable with his abilities. Most of these guys weren’t. Most. The multiple-power guy had been challenging.

Danny examined his captives. He should probably just knock them out, then go find a new hideout somewhere else, but he wanted to know why he was attacked, first.

“So,” he said, deciding that the curly-haired man with multiple powers was probably the leader, given the way the battle had been structured, “why did you and your goons attack me?”

“I heard you were like me,” growled the man, attempting to escape Danny’s telekinetic hold. “I’m looking for a power that can help my brother.”

Danny twitched slightly at the word help. “What do you mean, like you?”

“You can take powers, too,” said the man, staring up at Danny with desperate, hungry, red eyes.

Danny blinked, frowned. “You thought I could help you, or your brother, so you attacked me?” His frown became deeper. “Or did you attack me to, what, steal my powers?”

The man squirmed.

It was. That was such a ridiculous villain cliché, although the brother thing was a twist. People could get desperate about their families and do terrible things.

Including Danny. As had been proven many, many times.

His heart and stance both softened. This counted as a request for help, right? And the guy was sort of ghostly. On the other hand… Transplanting whatever it was giving these people powers willy-nilly couldn’t be healthy, especially if it was related to ghosts.

(Multiple ghosts in one body… It reminded him of his dark future self, which was never good.)

“Okay,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “Alright. What exactly does your brother need help with?”

The man clearly hadn’t expected Danny to ask this question. “He’s sick,” he said. His eyes gleamed at the edge of tears. “His body is tearing itself apart, DNA molecule by DNA molecule. If I could just find the right ability, I could save him,” the man’s voice broke, “I knowit.”

Molecule by molecule, huh?

Actually… that was something Danny could help with. Crud. People had powers here, right? He was being asked for help, wasn’t he? He was staying within the rules. Especially seeing as these guys were like warlocks. He was only doing warlock stuff.

“If I help you with this—if,” he stressed when the man perked up. “If I help you with this, I need two things from you. Well, three, really. Actually, no, four.”

“Name them,” declared the man.

“Yeah, I was about to,” said Danny. “Anyway, first, you need to ask your brother if he wants this. If he doesn’t, you have to come back here and return it. Asap. As in, tomorrow.” He was pretty sure he could get Clockwork to give him a day, even if he came to pick Danny up right now.

“Those are your first two conditions, then?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Third one is, you have to stop taking powers from people who don’t give you permission. The end of that road isn’t pretty.” At least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. All those little maybe-ghosts, slammed together… Even if it didn’t have any immediate effect on this guy’s personality, the resulting ghost could wind up possessing him. If the ghost vaguely wanted to go with him, that might change things. Maybe. At least, it’d slow things down.

If this worked the way he thought it did.

The man scowled. “And you know this, how?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Look, you’rethe one who said I was like you, not me. Too much of these powers can mess you up.”

“If the number is the problem, it shouldn’t matter how I take them.”

“Do you ever get bad dreams?”

The man stilled completely. “What do you know about that?”

Danny shrugged. “Enough,” he said. “Do you want to be overwhelmed by your powers? Do you want to explode? It could happen.” Actually, Danny had no idea if it could happen or not. But it sounded good. “More importantly, do you want to help your brother or not?”

“Of course I do!”

“Great!” said Danny, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finish this up somewhere privately, okay?” He grabbed the man’s shoulder and phased them through the floor into the basement, which he lit with a ball of ectoplasm. “Okay,” he said. “Fourth thing.”

The man was staring at the ectoplasm with undisguised curiosity. “What is it? Money? A new identity? Passage out of the country?”

“Uh, no,” said Danny. What would he do with any of that, after all? “I need to know the full story behind you and your brother.”

“What? Why? Don’t you know enough?”

“So that I can be sure that I can help, first off. Also, the way I’d be doing it involved me giving you something rather personal, so…” He trailed off with a gesture that indicated he expected the man to talk.

He sighed. “My name is Shigaraki Hisashi. My brother’s name is Kazuki, and he’s been sick since we were children…”

Danny let him give a summary of his life up until this point. He had the vague feeling that he wasn’t being told everything of importance, but, then, not everything about a person’s life could be condensed into an hour or so of storytelling.

Apparently Hisashi had basically raised Kazuki, and once Hisashi’s meta power had come in as a young adult, they’d been completely abandoned by their parents. Hisashi had put together a group of freedom fighters (Danny skeptically recalled the guns, but also forced himself to remember the hints that there might be something like concentration camps for power users) to defend himself, his brother, and others with power. But Kazuki’s illness made him incredibly vulnerable, and as he was Hisashi’s one major weakness…

The feeling that he was living through an ‘X-Men Japan’ comic intensified. He felt so sorry for this guy. Danny knew what this kind of life was like.

“Alright,” he said, softly, finally, “I can help. And, this probably doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but that better world you were talking about? Where people with powers and people without can coexist? I think you’ll be able to make it happen. Just don’t let anyone stop you.”

“I don’t intend to.”

Danny nodded. “I can give you something to help your brother. A power,” he clarified. “But I need you to know, it could change him.”

“Change him?”

“His personality.”

“You were saying something about that before. Forgive me if I don’t agree with you. These powers are tools.”

“Okay, sure, but even just having more options can influence how a person behaves. Just warn him before you give it to him, okay?”

“Of course. I’m a man of my word, after all.”

“Right,” said Danny. “Give me your hand.”

“A handshake?” asked Hisashi.

“Not exactly.”

Danny let a minuscule, almost microscopic, piece of his core break free from the whole. It hurt like a knife to the chest, and some of his physical and mental abilities would be impaired for a while, but he had done it before, and it would heal before long. A fragment this size would give a power on par with those he’d seen so far in this world. It would also grow, of course, but it was unlikely for any human to live long enough for that to become a problem.

He let it pass into Hisashi, and the man shivered.

“That should strengthen his body without being too much of a burden on him,” said Danny.

“What kind of power is it?” asked Hisashi, reclaiming his hand and flexing his fingers.

“Uh,” said Danny, casting about for something vague that would fit. “A gradual stockpile of power. That enhances the user’s body.” That should be close enough. “Remember, ask first.”

“I will, I will,” assured Hisashi one more time. “And you can be sure I’ll be returning regardless, to thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

It took a while for Hisashi and his men to clear out. Longer still for Danny to find a new place to sleep. But he did.

He woke to a time medallion around his neck and Clockwork’s exasperated expression. “Daniel,” he said, “what did you do?”

.

Toshinori and Izuku stared at Danny with open mouths.

“You’re the original stockpile user?” yelled Izuku, pointing.

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Surprise?”

[illgiveyouahint]

I'm excited for your take on s7. I never thought I could be so disappointed by a druck season as I am now. So much wasted potential. Have you written give before?

Hello anon,

oh everyone is saying how they're excited which makes me even more nervous. I literally don't even know if I'll finish it. I have a tendency to abandon projects halfway through but I'm hoping that by talking about it here I will be pressured to finish it.

I also haven't been so disappointed by a druck season before, but also I consider all the previous druck seasons good with just like some not so great aspects. Like at least all the seasons before were consistent with what they set up. Sure they might have fucked up, but I never had to continuously think about what even are the themes of the season.

What's frustrating is the potential. Like you see all the elements were there. All the elements for a really good season were there. And then they just...didn't follow through on them.

As for my writing background...

I've never written anything this big before. Me and my best friend were a writing duo pretty much since we learned how to write. The longest thing we've written had about 40 pages I think (we were like 13, 14 and it was a story about a girl who can read minds. It was so silly. There was a best friend with an inflatable lounge door etc.). But on my own, I never had the perseverance to actually write anything long. Most of it was short and depressing. Also most of the time I'd much rather do something else. But then again once in a while I get struck by a muse and write like a short drabble or write like 2-3 pages of little something. But then once again I don't follow through on it to come back to it. But I have been meaning to get better at keeping at it. Which I guess this is also like an exercise if I can actually do it. It seems just small enough that I might do it, but also big enough that I will feel good about myself if I do finish it.

But also Druck has literally been the only show that I have ever written something for and actually published it for others to see it. So if you like wanna know how bad my writing skills are you can look here (which I wrote I think during like s3e3 or something, so it's a bit of canon divergence) and then I also wrote this after David came out to Matteo when we were all angry about Matteo's silence, and then I also found this little skam thing from back when we were in hiatus between s3 and s4. And I think that's all I ever released to the public. The rest is in my various notebooks that no one is ever gonna see or read or lost to time completely.

As for the Ismail's season - I have a basic idea of what the emotional beats are gonna be and where I want them to happen. I have a semi-detailed line up of episode 1, but I have to actually go rewatch and like transcribe some stuff from the clips that actually stays. I have two clips from episode 2 fully written up, and the rest is of the episode also semi-described what I want to happen in each clip.

The rest of it is just like some notes on things that happen later in the season etc. It's sitting at 2000 words right now. The thing is I tend to think about it while falling asleep which means that I either have to get up like 20 times to go write it down or, like yesterday, I started recording my thoughts with a recorder on my phone so that I don't forget what I want it to be. I'm gonna try to stick with it through the holidays and get like a few chapters/episodes in, and then I'd probably released some of it to know if anyone actually likes it.

This is probably more than you've asked for, but you know me. I always talk too much.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (4)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / PREV / NEXT

Doctor Wada makes an unscheduled appearance the same morning. Kakashi has the doctor’s schedule memorised and knows the man usually spends his first work hour in his office before checking in with various patients. The change is not unexpected.

“Ms Iori finished her rounds, marked everything as normal and handed the ward off without incident.” Wada and one of the floor’s morning shift nurses talk, voices lowered, too quiet for a regular person to pick up.

“It was called in around 4:15 am. We confirmed it as a burst blood vessel behind his quirked-eye, but we don’t know what triggered it. Without examining the eye itself it is hard to draw any definite conclusions. Since we don’t know what his quirk does, we didn’t want to risk staff safety without a specialist on hand.”

“Nothing else? No other symptoms?” Wada asks.

“No external bleeding. No signs of irritation around the eye socket. Clear, coherent verbal responses from the patient. Vitals are stable.  The dressings on the eye were changed yesterday, and nothing was flagged then either.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Depressed at the thought of what amounted to a forced long-term infiltration mission, Kakashi’s attention drifts away from the hushed conversation. Kakashi has never been assigned to any extended infiltrations. Long, tedious things that they were. Jōnin were usually too valuable to waste on them. Even before he had made jōnin, his skillset lent itself to tracking, assassination, ambush and one on one combat not undercover assignments. It was just his luck -or maybe it was karma-that he had been shunted into one. Three years of ‘mingling’ amongst these soft-acting civilians, waiting to build enough chakra for an attempt at a technique he wasn’t even sure would work. It was enough to make even the most battle-hardened shinobi depressed. 

Maybe he should run off and hide somewhere. He would skulk around for three years avoiding the locals. Less of a hassle that way. Kakashi lets out a weary breath.

“See if you can bump up that MRI. We need to make sure this isn’t anything serious,” Wada’s voice breaks through his musing as the doctor starts in the direction of Kakashi’s bed. The nurse he is talking with nods and leaves.

“Well, you have certainly had an eventful night,” Wada greats when he draws near, leaning in to visually scan Kakashi, “Let’s see what we have going on. Can you close your left eye for me so I can unwrap it?”

 He habitually pushes down his natural discomfort at having a stranger close to his sharingan as the doctor reaches to tilt Kakashi’s head to the side for better access. If he was going to be stuck here then he should maintain his complacent, harmless persona. At least, until he leaves the hospital. Besides, if they had wanted to hurt him, they would have done it while he was unconscious.

“No swelling around your quirked-eye and the bleeding has stopped, that’s a good sign. We’ll run a few tests and get to bottom of this, not to worry.”

“Yeah. About that,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head to look sheepish and apologetic, “I might have tested out my, eh, quirk. You know…I wanted to see what it would do…”

There is a beat of silence, the older man drawing away, too surprised to respond.

“I think it lets me memorise things it sees?” Kakashi continues. Even if he wasn’t 100% sure about what he would do next, he is not about to abandon his shaky amnesia cover story.

“Of all the reckless, irresponsible decisions!” the doctor snaps out of his surprise moving straight into anger, “I expressly told you to wait and not to mess with it. You had no idea what sort of quirk it was! What if you had injured someone or yourself.” The concern seems pretty genuine and Kakashi almost feels bad for manipulating him.

“Young people these days…honestly. No patience.”

Young? It had been a while since anyone has called him that. Kakashi is practically ancient by shinobi standards. The response prompts a semi mournful, almost amused sigh from him, “I know, I know. I just wanted some sort of clue as to how I got here.”

The doctor takes a frustrated breath, calming “Yes. I know it’s frustrating, being restless and hold up in this bed for three straight weeks, but there is a procedure to these things. You got lucky that the only side effect was a burst blood vessel. Next time you want to test your quirk we’ll make sure it is in a controlled environment with an expert on hand. I don’t care if you have some sort of passive regeneration, quirks can be dangerous. The hospital has offsite testing facilities for a reason.”

“Yes. I understand. I won’t do it again,” he says dutifully and gets a huff of disbelief and a head shake.

“You better not.”

A pause.

“So.”

“So?” Kakashi raises a brow.

“So what did you discover? Explain it to me again.” Wada motions, impatient, repositioning a nearby chair so he can sit comfortably beside the bed.  

“It lets me remember things…” Kakashi had given a lot of thought to what he wanted his fake ‘quirk’ to do without giving too much away, “I’m pretty sure I remember anything it looks at perfectly.”

A somewhat true explanation, in that recoding information and prefect recall was one facet of the sharingan; a side effect of its primary function which was to copy ninjustu and taijustu. The explanation also played into the diagnosis Wada had already written into his medical files, making it more believable.

“Then, lucky for you, something good came of your reckless behaviour.”

Kakashi just smiles which elicits the beginnings of another lecture. “Not that you should ever take quirk safety lightly. Quirk licenses exist for a reason. People can’t go about throwing their quirks around willynilly. A licence, I might add, that you don’t have.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

After witnessing several televised reports on police arresting people for quirk misuse Kakashi knows the people here, for whatever reason, are leery when it comes to using their abilities. To the point where they actively outlaw it. He is banking on Wada being sympathetic enough not to push the matter.  

Wada sighs again, “I’ll write it up as accidental use this time. Now. If your quirk lets you remember everything perfectly then what about your past memories. Any change on that front?”

“No. Still gone.”

“I see. That might mean the part of the brain linked to its memorisation function was damaged, disrupting the memories stored by the quirk,” Wada rubs his chin thoughtfully, “We’ll have to run a few more tests…a lot easier now that we know what it does I suppose.” Good. That was the conclusion he wanted Wada to come to.

“Alright, before we get to testing, were there any other side effects. Aches, pains, fatigue?”

Even as the man asks, he is pulling out a familiar penlight to shine in Kakashi’s regular eye.

“No. Nothing.”

What follows is his standard check-up routine. His vitals are recorded, his head checked over, the area around his sharingan examined thoroughly. Again. Well, as thoroughly as it could be examined without uncovering it. Next is an inspection of the chest wound he now knows is from Obito alongside a glance over his shoulder, arm and leg. Wada nods to himself as he goes, signalling that all is well.

“Your blood pressure is a little high for my liking. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep much last night what with how you were messing around with your quirk. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Wada instructs as he fits Kakashi with a padded eyepatch instead of the usual wrap of bandages. He pauses to wait for a nod of confirmation.

“I will,” he blatantly lies. Kakashi hasn’t had a proper night sleep since waking up the first time, dozing for shortened intervals only. With so many squishy doctors around he doesn’t want to accidently hurt one of them should he be woken from a nightmare. It did put additional strain on his body.

Doctor Wada peers at him, “We’ll give you another week of monitoring then get some authorised quirk testing done. A brain scan as well. Depending on what we find, we’ll see what we can do about getting you a diagnosis and then discharged.”

“Hmm,” he answers, noncommittally. Not like he has anywhere else to go until then. If this were Konoha, he would have taken off long before now and seen to his remaining injuries alone. This would be the first time in a long while that he is waiting for an official discharge. 

Guess he would be finding out how the hospital dealt with amnesiac patients after they healed. In Konoha, a displaced citizen would be given a menial labour job as part of the village’s many reconstruction projects and sent on their way. But this wasn’t Konoha and he should really stop with the comparisons.  

He needs to decide what he wants to do: Take off, find somewhere secluded and wait the years out. Or hang around to try and salvage the situation. This world did have a lot of interesting technology so there might be value in getting a better feel for the society here. Maybe he would find something useful to take back as an apology for abandoning everyone…

What a mess this all was.

...

...

...

The following week has Kakashi splitting his time between gathering supplies for a chakra storage seal and reading through Wada’s patient files to get a sense for his upcoming quirk tests and ‘brain-scan.’

He also takes the time to read through everything else Wada has in his office - mainly medical journals - to better understand the biological differences inherent in a place without chakra. Primarily, the people were physically weaker. However, there were a lot of mutations or ‘secondary quirk factors’ which reinforced the body to better deal with the stress of the primary quirk. All interesting and potentially relevant information to remember when he got into fights. Once he knew a person’s quirk he would be able to guess how their body was reinforced and act accordingly. A fire quirk would make someone naturally heat resistant but not impact resistant, is what Kakashi concludes as he re-reads the profile of current number two hero ‘Endeavour.’ The magazines gifted to him by Iori all contain a statistical breakdown of the top 10 heroes, their strengths, weaknesses, and their criminal apprehension and crime prevention rates. It is a list that rarely changes between issues. He commits it all to memory, idly planning out combat strategies that didn’t involve obvious ninjutsu or chakra use. It helps pass the time when he is not trying to make sense of what he sees on television or stalking various people around the hospital. 

At the end of the week, he steals Wada’s fountain pen, adding it to his growing pen hoard which he stashes in a vent on the roof. The storage seal he wants to make is complex and would need ink to complete.  A mix between a chakra-draining-seal-trap and a storage scroll, it is well on its way to completion. 

The seal would drain his chakra at a consistent and manageable rate, store it efficiently,  and give him a way to turn the chakra drain off and on at will. Also, as a precaution, he includes an emergency stop in case his chakra levels became dangerously low, so it didn’t accidentally kill him if he fell unconscious.

The seal would need to be positioned somewhere on his body in a spot where the doctors wouldn’t immediately notice. He doesn’t what to explain why he suddenly has a tattoo.  If he had had access to properly made fūinjutsu ink, the seal would be invisible. Alas, he would have to make do with chakra-infused pen ink.

Kakashi manages to keep himself busy enough that he expertly avoids making any concrete decision on what he wants to do with the next three years.

.

Note: this is slowly turning into a medical drama

NEXT

[sesskagarchive]

Do you know any sesskag dubcon/rape fics?

Hello anon, thanks for asking.

We decided to compile a list so here are some recommended fics for Dubcon/rape. Some of these even come with Sequels! Happy Reading!

Admin Wicked/k9plus1

DUBCON LIST:

A Curse of Lust by Squash/Fearless miko:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net,  Rating: MA Summary: A lusty curse leaves the females in Inuyasha's group running for their lives...and towards their destiny! 

A Mere Digression, by elle6778:

Posted on: Dokuga  Rating: M Summary: A digression was what Sesshoumaru called it. ‘It’ being the heated encounters between him and Kagome which took place simply because neither of them could resist. Heed warnings and notes in the first chapter.

A Woman!, by sugar0o:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net , Rating: M Summary: Based somewhat off the idea of Mulan, staring our fav paring Sess/kags, AU, their both demons, because well it makes it easier, and I don’t want to make Sess human, its not right! [lemon w/a plot] this has 2 points, I want to write a lemon to get more comfortable with them, also I want to explore detailing my writing, I will ask that you give serious reviews/critiques, bc I want to learn from this, not just entertain and enthrall. *COMPLETE as of 9/3/9*

Acquisition, Possession, Seduction, by Mistress Sianna: 

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net Rating: M Summary: “Do not think for one moment that you can escape me.” he said slowly, deliberately. \"You Higurashi Kagome, are mine! Only I will decide if you will stay, if you will go, if you will live or if you will die.\"

Alpha, by Lyra/ lyrainthedark:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net Rating: M Summary: Kagome mates Inuyasha...but Inuyasha was reluctant. Why? Pack politics...and his brother, who is Alpha. What that means will take time to learn, if Kagome can only live long enough for the lessons... Finally Complete!

Bound by Corruption, by BelovedStranger/ Two Hearts:

Posted On: Dokuga. AO3, FF.net   Rating: M Summary: Inside every individual, darkness dwelled large or small. A young woman, cast under her elder sister’s shadow, was bent on proving her worth. A terrible threat hung over her village, giving Kagome the opportunity she had been waiting for. On a mission to save them all from the hearts of evil men, she journeyed to the Inu no Kami’s temple to beseech divine intervention. Instead, danger befell the headstrong woman. Rather than obtaining help from a merciful god, another stepped in to slaughter her enemies, but for a price. An Inugami did nothing for free. Status: Completed

Detrimental Desires, by Mistress Sianna:

Posted on: Dokuga  Rating: M Summary: The idea was to make Inuyasha kill Kagome. Little did Naraku know, that on the night of the new moon, Inuyasha looses his demonic powers. Instead, Sesshoumaru and Kagome will be forced to succumb to their most detrimental desires.

Fix It, by Smortz:

Posted On: Dokuga. Rating: M Summary:  When Sesshomaru needs Kagome to help him, she takes advantage of the dog demon now in her debt. As they set out on a new journey, will Kagome be able to overcome the problem that arises? Pun Intended.

He Must be Breeding, by ChaoticReverie:

Posted On: Dokuga  Rating: M Summary: Sesshomaru requires the perfect female to bear his heir, and Kagome… well, she doesn’t know how she gets herself into these messes.

Heated Blood by Imani Joain:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net, AO3 Rating: M Summary: Kagome cannot help but try to fix anything she finds broken, even if it is not in her best interest to do so. When she comes across Sesshomaru in dire need of assistance, she cannot deny herself. She only hopes that he won't kill her for it. Rated MA for graphic intimacy. Staus: WIP

House of Ill Repute, by Aurora Antheia Raine:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net, AO3 Rating: M Summary:  "I will never be yours." // "But you will be, miko," he nearly purred, "you will be when this Sesshoumaru is finished with you."

Irresistible Temptation, by DestinysTears:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net     Rating: M Summary: Sesshomaru finds he cannot ignore this inexplicable temptation. (Oneshot)

Just Another Lemon, by Tiegrsi: 

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: Sesshomaru has gone into heat, and finds Kagome willing to put up with his antics. Kagome thinks he was unable to find a suitable woman, and came to her as a last resort. Perhaps there are some things Kagome needs to learn

Lair, Lair, by susie: 

Posted On: Dokuga   Rating: M Summary: After nearly being nearly absorbed, Sesshoumaru's Bakusaiga is forged, and we all know the rest of the story... or do we? In a deal with Sunrise to accelerate the events of TFA, part of the infamous manga was left on the cutting room floor. Though the hack job began well before that. For the sake of public decency, and in accordance with Japan's obscenity laws, the spiciest and most controversial scenes from the original manga were banned from ever seeing the light of day. Until now. On the condition of anonymity, a diligent hacker provided via email a copy of the raw version you were never meant to see. This is Inuyasha Nights – The Lost Chapter *Dubcon

Macaria, by mythicamagic:

Posted on: Dokuga, FF.net, AO3 Rating: M Summary: Post-apocalyptic AU. Human women were all but wiped out when the demons took over. What few remain have gone into hiding or concealed their true gender. When Kagome hears news of an orphaned little girl, she'll stop at nothing to protect her from the dangers of the world- including the city of demons and the infamous Killing Perfection. But is he friend or foe? Status: WIP

Not Impervious, by Oroyukae: 

Posted On: Dokuga   Rating: M Summary: He was supposed to be the most powerful demon in existence; one that none could best in any situation, at any time. That was not entirely accurate, it would seem. One error in judgment at the most vulnerable of times, and all that he knows lay in jeopardy. Just what would said being be willing to agree to in the direst of circumstances? {FIN}

Passion, by CiraArana:

Posted On: Spark, Rating: M Summary: Sesshomaru turned to her and gazed back. He did nothing else, just standing there, looking at her... As he kept his eyes on her, his lust for blood and killing faded away, leaving behind another lust. For her. Status: Abandoned

Poison of Erised!, by Vyncent:

Posted On: Dokuga, Rating: M Summary: Tomorrow night, brother moon would be witness to the music that he heard, and felt in his very soul, as he howled his conquest to his blood red face. Tomorrow his hunger would be fed by the blood and flesh that he hungered for, and the world would know of his claim. Status: Abandoned

Poison Within, by Angelic Memories:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net    Rating: MA Summary: *Two-Shot* Due to a nasty bite Kagome is poisoned and fights for her life. Inuyasha can only think of one person who might be able to help her but there’s a problem he didn’t consider.

Secret Possession. By SakuraAngel1:

Posted On: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: Sesshoumaru is forced to put his mating plans into action a lot sooner than expected, and has Kagome kidnapped in order to fulfill it. When Kagome awakens, she finds herself as the new Lady of the Western Lands...with no Lord in sight… Status: Abandoned

Sleeping Beauty, by Catalina:

Posted On: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: Based loosely on the Disney movie, but darker and a bit twisted. Sesshoumaru is betrothed to a little human princess who is delivered a curse by the hanyou Naraku, Kikyo, Miroku, and Kaede agree to raise the child in safety. Smuts in final chapter. Status: Completed

Striking a Deal With the Devil, by Smortz:

Posted On:  Dokuga, FF.net,   Rating: M Summary: Does anything sound funner? Kagome needs help from the new Commissioner. A man that gave 'bad reputation' its standards. However, will Kagome be able to pay the price he demands when a life is on the line? Status: Completed

The Sacrifice, by Catalina:

Posted On: Dokuga   Rating: M Summary: Kagome is lured to a strange village, where she finds herself in an unpleasant situation. She is to be a sacrifice to an as yet unnamed youkai. Semi-non-consensual. Status: Completed

Trapped, Breeder, by sesshou_lover:

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: N/A Status: Completed

Virginity of the Soul, by Madison

Posted on: Dokuga, FF.net, AO3 Rating: M Summary: Fresh from a betrayal that shattered her world, she was lured into getting even. Alas, the ones we trust and love aren’t always the ones we should. Semi-PWP. COMPLETE Staus: Complete

The Western Breeding, By Blackthorn:

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net, Rating: M Summary: The end has come. Demons have found that certain humans can breed pure blooded demon pups. Sesshomaru is leading with Kagome running from the demon lord. Once she is at his side can she learn to love her captor for the sake of her unborn pup or find a way out? Status: Abandoned

RAPE LIST:

Blood Stained, by Madison: 

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net, AO3  Rating: M Summary: COMPLETE! A sudden loss of control intertwined their fates. It dragged her through hell and he couldn't have cared less. She tried to escape her fears but the only way to do it was to face him through time and love.

Heat of Exchange, by Catalina: 

Posted On: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: It is that time of year for demon women, but Kagome is experiencing something very strange. Sesshoumaru arrives to help her, against her wishes. Freshly beta'd now.

Hell’s Shadows, by Catalina:

Posted On: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Formerly named "Ghost of Death" Sesshoumaru lives in hell requiring human women to increase his own power. Kagome falls into his waiting claws, while all of hell is turned upside down by her.DARK. NON CONSENSUAL.

His Wife, by Aries_heart: 

Posted On: Dokuga, FF.net, AO3,    Rating: MA Summary: "With a kiss on her shaking lips, he would leave for work and once the door was closed she would allow herself to cry once more. And then the cycle will repeat."

I Don’t Want a Mate, MLMonty: 

Posted On: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: Sesshoumaru goes into heat during mating season and rapes Kagome. Now she's pregnant and wants nothing to do with him. Should Sesshoumaru respect her wishes and leave her unguarded while she carries his heir?  Status: Abandoned 

Kagome’s Trust, by Fire_and_Earth_Sorceress55/Huntress-of-Flames-55:

Posted On: FF.net, AO3   Rating: M Summary: When Kagome is raped by Sesshomaru on the night of the new moon. Kagome goes home to the future as finds out that she is pregnant with pups? PUPS! Now one year later, she decides to go back to the feudal era.

Paper Cranes, by midori Haru: 

Posted On: FF.net  Rating: M Summary: Meeting, attraction, courting, commitment. For most of the world relationships form in the normal fashion from start to culmination. Naturally normal isn't enough for Sesshoumaru. And he wonders why he runs into problems trying to build a relationship from the wrong end.

Principal Life, by Catalina: 

Posted On: Dokuga Rating: M Summary: Kagome is dating the principal's brother, and he finds out about it. What can an untrained miko hope to accomplish when she is so ignorant of youkai mating traditions? Story is dark and now involves non consensual situations, with more to come. Status: Abandoned

Rise Again, by Catalina: 

Posted on: Dokuga   Rating: M Summary: Youkai have become weak and feeble but are attempting to strengthen their population. Sesshoumaru leads them, and discovers the solution to their problem in an unwilling human. VERY non-consensual stuff happens. Frequently.

S t a s i s, by wonderbug: 

Posted On: Dokuga, AO3  Rating: M Summary: Love, he tells her, as he trails a claw along the pathway of her shivering spine, is only a human notion. [VERY dark; drabble-ish CU/AR]

The Breeder, TexanLady: 

Posted On: Dokuga  Rating: M Summary: There is more to Kagome than anyone could ever imagine. After learning of her destiny Sesshoumaru swears to make her his at any cost. Once forced to his side can Kagome teach him to love or learn to love him. Status: Abandoned