#I’m monitoring her and she’s by no means in need of urgent care

[singlethread]

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[sanjisboyfie]

∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission

this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe

first year satosugu x male reader

-> prev

( if u squint )

“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.

“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.

satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.

“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”

satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.

and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.

the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.

“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.

“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.

hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].

“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.

“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”

“love to see you try, piece of shit!”

“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”

satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!

well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.

“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.

hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.

“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”

the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”

“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.

“you two are going down!”

“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”

“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”

on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.

but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).

at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.

just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.

“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”

“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.

as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.

at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.

“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”

“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”

suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.

“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.

the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.

“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.

[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.

“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.

“same here!!”

[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.

he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.

the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.

“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.

“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”

“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”

in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.

but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”

that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.

it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.

suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.

“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.

“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”

there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.

suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!

that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.

“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.

“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”

suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”

satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.

it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.

it made suguru both annoyed and angered.

why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…

the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.

”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”

that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.

he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.

he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.

he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.

he always hated this part.

but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.

‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’

it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.

he really hated his innate cursed technique.

-

sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Twenty-One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twenty-One: One Hell of an Identity

Summary: The battle converges into a single room with humans, demons, and reapers pitted against each other and the reanimated horde.

            “Back off!” shouted Edward, monitoring the boarding of the lifeboats. “Women and children first! Just look at the sight of you! How can you call yourselves English gentlemen?!”

            “Edward!” cried Elizabeth upon seeing him.

            “Lizzie!” He embraced her as she ran to him. “I’m so happy to see you well!” He glanced at the sword at her side. “It must have been hard for you.”

            “Forgive me,” said Ciel. “It was entirely due to my helplessness.”

            “You said it,” huffed Edward. “But fine, my lecture can wait. Now you two get on a boat, quick as you can—”

            “Edward, I have a favor to ask of you,” said Ciel. He gestured to Snake. “Put him on the boat in my stead.” Snake and Ciel’s eyes widened. “I can’t get onto a boat yet.”

            “…Alright. I’ll take care of him,” said Edward.

            Elizabeth moved forward urgently. “If Ciel is to stay, I shall stay t—!”

            Sebastian gently struck the back of her neck, and she collapsed, unconscious, into Edward’s arms. “I beg your pardon, sir,” said Sebastian.

            “Butler!” exclaimed Edward.

            “It appeared that convincing Lady Elizabeth would take some time, so I resorted to a rough measure,” said Sebastian. “Please mete out whatever punishment you see fit at a later time.”

            “No, you have my thanks,” said Sebastian. “It’s possible for me to attack my sister from behind.”

            “My Lord, the ship’s listing is worsening,” said (Y/N) to Ciel, keeping their balance as easily as a cat.

            Ciel nodded and looked to Edward. “Its foundering is but a matter of time. Please leave the ship and get as far away from it as you can. And take care of Lizzie and Snake. Let’s go, Sebastian, (Y/N).”

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian.

            “Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

            “You don’t need to come back, you know!” shouted Edward. “I’m perfectly fine with not having to give away my adorable little sister’s hand!” Beneath the harsh words, however, there was something of concern as if Edward was challenging Ciel to come back, even if just for Lizzie.

            “I shall return, I assure you,” said Ciel, accepting the challenge.

            And then they were heading once more into the belly of the beast, braving the halls of the ship as walking corpses, flooding, and listing threatened their wellbeing.

            Near the First Class hall, however, they came upon someone else who wasn’t trying to escape. (Y/N) cocked their head in surprise.

            “The Viscount of Druitt?” said Ciel in surprise.

            “And who are you?” said Druitt. “How do you know who I am?”

            (Y/N), Ciel, and Sebastian deadpanned. (Y/N) glanced down at themself. They hadn’t even really made a disguise during the Aurora Society’s meeting, and they looked the same. So either blood on the skirt really changes an appearance or he’s just a self-obsessed idiot. (Y/N)’s money was on the second option.

            “Well, I suppose it is indeed difficult to not know of me as I’m celebrated in society circles for being the personification of beauty,” sighed Druitt dramatically.

            It’s definitely the second option.

            “With all due respect, what are you doing in a place like this Viscount?” said Sebastian. “The walking dead are ambling through this vessel as we speak.”

            Druitt smirked and gestured behind him. Four people carrying a large device turned around the corner behind him. “There’s something here that I dare not leave on this sinking ship, even if it means exposing myself to mortal danger. To begin with, those corpses amount to nothing more than useless dolls to me—Oh, dear.” He smiled. “I’m nattered on for too long. If you’ll excuse me.”

            (Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel exchanged looks. They knew what they had to do for his trust.

            “The eternal flame in this breast,” said Sebastian.

            Druitt perked up and turned to them. “Cannot be quenched by anyone! We are—”

            “Phoenix!” All four spoke and posed together.

            “Ah!” said Druitt happily. “So you were comrades! Speaking of, I do get the feeling we’ve met before.”

            At least he hasn’t started the poetry session, thought (Y/N).

            “That contraption! Can it perhaps stop the movements of those corpses?” asked Ciel quickly.

            “Where did you learn that?” said Druitt somberly.

            “I knew it,” said Ciel. “Then you’re—.”

            Druitt turned before Ciel could continue. “If you wish to know, follow me. I shall allow you to bear witness as well. To the advent of a new aurora by way of medicine, that is.”

            “Shall we take it by force?” murmured Sebastian as the followed Druitt and the device.

            “No, we don’t know how to use it,” said Ciel.

            “We have to wait until he activates it, then,” said (Y/N).

            A familiar giggle filled the room. One of the men holding the device turned and grinned at the group.

            “What the—Undertaker?!” Ciel fought to keep his voice down, but Druitt was too busy daydreaming about his own greatness to notice him. “What are you doing here?!”

            “Hiiiya!” said Undertaker. “I was told to help carry this as I was in the middle of running for my life, you seeeee. Then I caught sight of the Earl hollering ‘phoenix’ once more, and—”

            “Wipe that from your memory at once!” shouted Ciel in embarrassment. He lowered his voice and whispered, “But more importantly, do you have a clue as to how to work this thing?”

            Undertaker grinned. “Can’t say that I do? I wonder if something like this serves any useful purpose at all, you know?”

            (Y/N) cocked their head, and their nose twitched. What type of a statement was that?

            The group arrived in the lounge, and Druitt had the device placed on landing of the staircase at the head of the room.

            “Be very cautious with it. It is worth more than your lives,” said Druitt.

            “Will you start it up now?” said Ciel.

            “Not yet,” said Druitt. “Our cast is still one player short.”

            “One player?” said (Y/N), raising an eyebrow.

            “Ah!”

            Everyone turned to the terrace seating above. Stoker stood beside Ronald and Grell and glared down. “You rat!” shouted Stoker. “Why did you steal the device?!”

            “Hello there, Rian. I’ve been waiting for you,” said Druitt. “This day shall mark the fall of your empire in one night, as Pompeii once fell, and the day my new empire was born! With the power of this device, I shall build a new empire!”

            “Come again?” said Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) incredulously.

            “He who possesses eternity shall rule with immorality and decadent beauty!” Druitt extended a hand to (Y/N). “All the beauties in the world shall serve me so I may only stare into the face of divinity equal to mine! Yes! All beauty shall be mine!”

            An irk mark appeared on (Y/N)’s forehead. “He’s crass and insane. May I kill him?”

            “No, though I understand the urge,” said Sebastian.

            “And it shall be called the Aurora Empire!” declared Druitt.

            “This all seems to have gone kinda pear-shaped, huh?” said Ronald in confusion.

            Grell’s chainsaw revved to life, and she put a foot on the banister of the balcony. “I’ll make that cad the reddest of reds in the blink of an eye!”

            “Easy now!” said Druitt. He tilted his wine glass over the device. “Don’t you care what happens to this machine?”

            “Hey, Miss Sutcliff, time out!” Ronald grabbed Grell around the middle before she could do anything rash.

            “This is what is called ‘true power!’ I can stand victorious against you all with nothing more than a single wine glass!” Druitt laughed proudly.

            “This sense of irritation just grows and grows,” said Sebastian. “May I kill him, Young Master?”

            “No, not yet,” said Ciel. “Though I understand the urge.”

            Crash!

            All the windows and doors of the First Class Lounge shattered as hundreds, possibly thousands, of reanimated corpses jostled to enter and get at the people within.

            “Hey! Just look at these numbers!” said Ronald, pulling back.

            “Viscount, start the device! Hurry!” cried Ciel.

            “Non! I am no longer a Viscount!” declared Druitt melodramatically.

            “…Eh?” Everyone blinked.

            “ ‘Kaiser!’ I shall start the device if you call me that! You, with the mouth like a robin’s, and you, with the smooth voice of a raven! Call me ‘Kaiser’ and I shall start the device!” said Druitt, winking.

            “Let’s kill him now, after all,” said Ciel.

            “Please wait, though I understand the urge,” said (Y/N).

            The corpses lunged, and battle began. Sebastian dodged and fought while keeping Ciel in his arms, and (Y/N) kept any from getting too close to them. Stoker cowered behind Ronald and Grell as the reapers slashed and sliced.

            Druitt…daydreamed. And monologued. “Ooh! Ooh! Gladiators, who put their flesh and blood on the line, whose lives scatter like so many fallen petals! This place is just like a corrupt coliseum! Gazing out as I sip my wine, I truly am just like Emperor Nero!”

            As someone who has fought in a coliseum, they are all corrupt, and Nero was overthrown, thought (Y/N).

            “Can we kill him now?!” said Ronald in frustration.

            “Let me get this straight, you just stopped me, didn’t you?!” Grell huffed and glared at Druitt. “Hey, you! Get a move on and start that thing up, would you?!”

            “Very well. The time for the founding of my empire is upon us at last.” Druitt raised his wine glass. “Now, then. All of you! Show me the dance of the phoenix in pledging your allegiance to your Kaiser!”

            “Never mind, let’s kill him,” said (Y/N), Sebastian, Ciel, Grell, and Ronald.

            Undertaker giggled from the side of the landing. “Dear, dear. But if he’s dead, you’ll never figure out what that mystery contraption can do.”

            “What is it?! Come on now!” declared Druitt.

            Every person in the hall swallowed their pride and resigned themselves to humiliation.

            “The eternal flame in this breast cannot be quenched by anyone…We are the new phoenix!”

            They posed in Druitt’s variation, even more ridiculous than the first.

            “Well played, comrades!” said Druitt in satisfaction. “Now I shall show you the army of death that bows before me!” He pressed a button on the side of the device.

            …Nothing.

            Everyone turned blank as they watched the device do…nothing.

            The growl of the horde of reanimated humans broke through the silence. Ciel, Sebastian, and (Y/N) turned to the approaching group warily, and Ronald and Grell lifted their Death Scythes again. Undertaker rolled around on the ground and laughed hysterically while Druitt stared at the device in confusion.

            “What are you playing at?!” shouted Ciel, glaring at Druitt.

            “Why, Rian!” exclaimed Druitt. “The device you crafted is useless!”

            “I-It can’t be!” cried Stoker.

            “Weren’t you the one who made this thing?!” demanded Ciel.

            Druitt blinked innocently. “There’s obviously no way I could build a contraption liket his.” Undertaker’s laughter grew louder again.

            “You bastard! Did you deceive me?!” demanded Stoker.

            (Y/N) glanced up at him as they smashed another skull. Who was he talking to?

            “Hah! What a farce this is!” Grell vaulted over the balcony. She tore through a group of reanimated corpses.

            “Yeah, he really is something else—!” Ronald’s eyes went wide in panic. “Hey, wait, Miss Sutcliffe, ma’am!” Grell lunged for Druitt, her chainsaw whirring to life. “We reapers shouldn’t be goin’ ‘round killing humans, remember?!”

            Grell slammed her Death Scythe down on Druitt’s head.

            Clang!

            The Death Scythe hit an obstacle and stopped. Everyone���s eyes widened in shock. That was impossible. A Death Scythe could cut through anything.

            Undertaker raised his head from where he held his cloak up, obscuring whatever he had that blocked Grell’s Death Scythe. “Hee, hee!” He grinned as he watched Druitt faint. “It’s been ages since I laughed this hard. In my humble opinion, losing such an amusing chap would amount to a loss to this world.” His grin turned to a smirk. “Wouldn’t you agree with me, hm? My little Grim Reapers?”

            “The blade of my Scythe won’t cut through…?!” said Grell.

            Undertaker whirled, pushing Grell into the air and revealing he had a collection of sotoba in his cloak. His top hat fell from his head, and a chain of lockets flew around his neck. He grinned. Undertaker threw his arms out and sent several sotoba into Grell as she fell through the air. The reaper was propelled backwards through the glass ceiling of the lounge. Shards fell like rain through the room.

            “Young Master!” said Sebastian, covering Ciel. On the same base instinct, he reached for (Y/N) and pulled them to his side, though both demons were cut as it fell.

            “Ahh…” Undertaker sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “How said it is—" He pushed his bangs back. “—that laughter should vanish from this place.” He peered out at the group with sharp, green and yellow fluorescent eyes.

            “Undertaker?” said Ciel as he looked up over Sebastian’s shoulder.

            “He masked his presence most skillfully,” said Sebastian. “His eyes have always been hidden as well, so it escaped me notice.” He narrowed his eyes.

            “And he kept himself around death to mask that part of his energy,” said (Y/N), nose twitching in furstration. “It was masterfully done.”

            “Same here.” Grell pushed herself to her feet and adjusted her spectacles. “He fooled me good.”

            “Miss Sutcliffe, ma’am! Those eyes!” Ronald’s eyes widened.

            “Yes,” said Grell. “That chartreuse phosphorescence, without a doubt, can only belong to…a Grim Reaper!”

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@iamsexytrash

@oceansfloor

@neuvilleteismybby

[chikoyama]

not me realizing i might have accidentally made chiyori mildly neurodivergent, but probably high-functioning. she’s probably masking a fuckton to compensate.

she’s kinda sensitive to touch, so she’d always be careful to touch other people herself unless she feels 100% comfortable around them. if she needs someone’s attention, she’d normally she’d just grab their clothes (like sleeve) instead to avoid direct physical contact. she doesn’t randomly seek physical contact unless it has practical purpose (lovers might be an exception). if the situation isn’t urgent, she’ll ask: “is it okay, if i touch you?” because she thinks they might be as sensitive as her (she’s projecting). for people who are just naturally touchy-feely, she’d probably get startled at first, but might get used to it, or learn how to tolerate and respond to it.

she’s compelled to animals, especially cute ones. she’ll emphasize with them a lot. as a kid, she’d spend her pocket money on buying treats to feed street cats, or her pet rabbit instead of candy for herself, lmfao.

for people who aren’t able to get past her ‘mask’, chiyori will continue to appear timid when interacting, or she might expend a lot of energy trying to not appear unpolite. once it slips, she can be quite mischievous though.

she’s likely hyper-empathetic. she has a lot of compassion, even for strangers. it might be hard to actually offend her, because she’ll reason it by looking at the situation from their perspective. even in her younger years she might have been susceptible to being (ab)used.

a lot of emotional monitoring, which means she’ll be constantly scanning the moods of other people to understand how they’re feeling, so she can adapt her own behaviour. that’s why she might appear intense with her staring and gauging — she’s just analysing the other’s emotions and reactions. people who appear stoic or inscrutable in a way might make her incredibly nervous though.

things that might appear obvious to other people, might not be to chiyori, so she might ask questions that are considered dumb. usually, she’d try to conceal it by asking in an elaborate way. “so, uh, what’s your definition of [insert term]?”

hyper-observant. might be tied to being hyper-empathetic, but she notices small details about people and her surroundings. she’s good at listening, asking questions, noticing subtle social cues that makes it easier for her to appear considerate and blend in. i’m not sure she’d know how to channel it into something actually useful in her younger years.

in a larger social setting, chiyori would probably prefer to be hovering in the periphere to observe people and their behaviours. it’s easier for her to interact one-on-one rather than in larger groups of people, because the sensory input from multiple people might overwhelm her. she only has two eyes — can’t monitor the emotions of everyone at once.

chiyori might be oblivious to flirting or sarcasm, or like she’d understand it but not know exactly how to respond to it, even if she is interested? she’d likely learn as she gets older. in her younger years, she might take a lot of said things literally, but learns the meaning behind eventually.

a lot of these personal ‘quirks’ she finds a way to cope with, or learns how to apply to her own advantage as she gets older. in her younger years, people might just think of chiyori as naive, dumb, or adorable even. she usually gets away with it, because she’s… well, a girl, i think?

chiyori doesn’t feel the urge to share her interests with other people. most likely, she’d just do her own thing, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t crave or enjoy company. she just doesn’t feel the need to share unless prompted, or she knows they’re like interested, or like there’s a specific goal to it?

i don’t really think she questions her own behaviour a lot? mental well-being, neurodivergency etc. isn’t a prominent focus in japan and might be considered a topic of taboo even. i think most people and chiyori herself just accept her as she is, because she’s not being brash or an obvious inconvenience to others. unfortunately, it might be more to her own detriment.

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #49 (part four)

previously - Journal Entry #49 (part three)

Victor

When I'd finished recounting the events of my visit with Dr. Ishida, I looked to see if Yuri was still awake. He'd let go of my fingers at some point, and I thought maybe he'd fallen asleep. He hadn't. It appeared as though he'd been hanging onto every word.

I smiled at him. "You doing okay?"

"You're going to look cute with glasses," he said.

"That was your take-away piece?"

The corners of his mouth quirked upward, and I got the impression that he'd be laughing if he had the strength for it. "No, I got everything. Reading, going to university, snowboarding. But, that doesn't change the fact that I think you'll be cute with glasses."

"I'm pretty excited," I said. “I can’t wait to find out how much my reading’s gonna improve. Like, maybe it’s really true that I’m not stupid after all.”

“You’re not stupid,” he said. “Don’t I keep telling you that?”

“Now we can find out for sure.”

“You need to discover it for yourself before you fully believe it, don’t you? I think I can understand that.”

“As soon as I get my glasses, I’m going to read the hardest book I can find,” I said.

Yuri gave me an indulgent look. “Of course you are. I wouldn’t have expected otherwise.”

“Know what I’m going to do after that? I’m going to ask Ellie to send me a couple of her old books from nursing school, and I’m gonna see if I can read those. You know, because… reasons.”

“You’re still wavering between physical therapy and nursing, then?”

“Yeah, but you know one of the big reasons why I was struggling to choose is because I didn’t think I could do all the reading for nursing. I’m still really interested in physical therapy, but I think I’d do better as a nurse. I’m thinking licensed practical nursing, ‘cause it’s more hands-on.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be an amazing nurse,” Yuri said.

“You’d know,” I acknowledged. “You’re probably in the best position to know, actually.”

"Well, now you’ve got to figure out what you really want to do. You obviously can’t stay in Japan to train and compete, and go to university in Canada at the same time."

“Yeah, and there's the haunted house. Depending on what happens, we may or may not end up buying it.”

"Yes, the haunted house," he echoed. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

"When you're feeling better," I said. "I want to figure everything out as soon as we can, but none of it is so urgent that it can't wait a few weeks. I mean, it's still up in the air whether or not I'll be able to compete again anyway. I won't know that until I see Dr. Sato again and have all my scans and stuff."

"Do you really want to compete again?"

"I didn't want to stop,” I said.

"So, I should ignore what you said before?" he asked.

"When? If I said it when I was in the hospital, just assume you can't rely on any of it. Unless I said I love you. That's totally true."

""You're the light of my world. You know that, don't you?" he said. "I know I can always rely on you loving me."

"Just like I know you love me,” I said.

"I do," he said. "Very much. More than anything."

We can decide what to do once we have more information."

"That's reasonable," he said. He was quiet for several seconds, but then he ventured, "There is something we have to talk about now, though."

"If you're feeling well enough, we can."

"If I were feeling well, it'd be a moot point."

I chewed my lower lip, slightly worried about what he might say next. "What's up?"

"Dr. Kasongo and Dr. Shibazaki both think I'm going to need home care."

I remembered that Dr. Shibazaki was the one who'd seen Yuri when his parents and I brought him to the emergency department, and she's still following up with his care. The other doctor, Espérance Kasongo, is Yuri's gastroenterologist. She's the one who's most closely monitoring him, and the one primarily responsble for his care while he's here.

I nodded. "Dr. Kasongo told me."

"What did you say to her? Did you agree?"

"I told her I'd have to wait until I could talk about it with you," I said. "I can't make that decision for you as long as you're capable of making it for yourself. If you want to know what I really think, though, I do agree with her."

The expression on his face was one of betrayal. "You do?"

"I don't like the idea," I said. "If we had a choice, I'd say no because obviously I'd be looking after you myself, but that's not an option right now 'cause I still need help too."

"But, our parents and Uncle Kaz—"

"Mom and Julian have to go home, and I assume Uncle Kaz does as well, so that’ll just leave your parents. We can't expect them to do everything. You know your dad's not going to be able to stay away from the office for too much longer. Plus, he and your mom still have Yuki to look after, and they'll be busy getting ready for the baby, too."

"Kinai," he said. "That's what they're calling him. The baby."

"Your mom says they're going to court to ask a judge to give them full custody of him," I said.

"I think it's a terrible idea, but Papa seems pleased about it."

"They want to adopt him eventually."

"I'm staying out of it," he declared. "I want as little to do with that whole situation as possible."

"Because you don't like babies?"

"Because I don't like Hana," he stated. "She's going to cause as much trouble as she can, and all her nonsense is going to take our parents' time and attention away from me and Yuki. Besides, being anywhere near Hana is stressful. I don't need that."

"No, you don't," I agreed.

He sighed. "I wish you could look after me at home. Then we wouldn't have to worry about asking my parents or anyone else."

"Me too, but you know I need both arms for that."

"I know. It's just... I don't want home care. I don't want some stranger touching me and... and doing intimate things for me."

"People are doing that here," I pointed out.

"I don't like them doing it here, either," Yuri said. "But, our home is my safe place. I don't—"

His voice hitched and he stopped speaking, and then quickly pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle the whimper that was trying to escape.

"It'll be okay," I said.

He stared at me, eyes wide, as if I'd said something truly horrifying. Behind his hand, his voice was barely audible as he insisted, "No... it won't."

I opened my mouth and drew in a breath to say something in reply, but quickly closed it again when I saw tears in his eyes. He was full-on sobbing within seconds, and his attempt to hold it back became a wasted effort.

Yuri crying that way was a sight so rare that it scared me a little, and it quickly occurred to me that he wasn't just being stubborn and wanting his own way when it came to the home care issue. He was absolutely terrified.

I didn't know what to do. My elation of only minutes before was completely gone, and I was beginning to feel useless and overwhelmed again. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reached out to stroke his forearm. My cast was probably bumping his poor little arm in a less than comfortable way, but I couldn't sit there and do nothing. I couldn't not try to soothe him.

I wanted to tell him everything would be fine, that the home care nurse wouldn't harm him, that nothing bad would happen, but even though that was surely all true, I didn't know if Yuri was in any state to believe it at the moment.

I tried to imagine myself in his position; sick, scared, physically tiny and too weak to defend himself from anyone who might try to do something to him. Add all that to the fact that he's generally touch-averse and also very particular about his hygiene and personal care habits, and the idea of having a stranger come into our home to tend to him suddenly seemed like an invitation to disaster.

When I first came here and moved in with him in his small rented house in Wakabamori, he'd barely let me touch him. The most we could do in the beginning was hold hands or hug briefly, and it'd taken time for him to understand that I wasn't going to hurt him. Ironically, it was when he hadn't been feeling well that he sought physical affection from me for the first time. He'd wandered into my room in the middle of the night and crawled into bed with me, wanting me to hold him. Even then, I didn't hold him too close, and he told me later how much he appreciated that I'd known what to do.

What I hadn't known at the time, and only learned after he felt safe enough to reveal it to me, was that his unwillingness to be touched wasn't due only to his general aversion to physical contact. He'd been traumatized by his former partner's abuse of him, and he'd never truly gotten past it.

And it seems he still hasn't, I thought.

Being hesitant or uneasy or just plain obstinate was one thing, but this...? Yuri's fear was on a totally different level. I'd literally never seen him this emotionally vulnerable, and the worst part for me was that I didn't know how to help him.

"We'll think of something," I said quietly. "We'll make sure your safe place is still safe."

I hoped my promise didn't sound hollow and empty. I didn't want him to feel scared and unsafe in the place that had become a refuge for him, but i also realized we needed support. There had to be a way to make both those things happen.

The problem was, I couldn't think of anything. I was exhausted, and my head was starting to ache, and everything I'd already experienced during the day suddenly felt like... too much.

After what seemed like much longer than it was in reality, Yuri regained some composure. He sniffled, tears mostly subsided at last, and rubbed at his eyes. "I need to lie down."

I nodded, and fumbled with the bed remote until I got it where he wanted it. "Good?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry for being so much trouble."

"You're no trouble," I assured him. "You need to stop worrying about that, if you can."

"But—"

"If I thought you were too much trouble, would I be here?"

"I suppose not." He wiped his eyes again. "Why does everything have to be so difficult?"

"I don't know, love," I said. "We've survived all our worst days so far, though, and we'll get through this too."

"I don't want any more bad days."

"Me either, but we don't get to decide that."

"I know." He sighed shakily. "I really am sorry."

"For what?"

"You're tired. I can see it," he said. "I didn't mean to burden you with one more thing."

"It's okay," I said. "You were right. We had to talk about it, or at least bring up the subject. But, listen... we don't have to discuss it any more right now. Let me work on it. Maybe there's a solution."

"Okay," he said. Then, after a pause, "I'm glad it went well with Dr. Ishida. I... I didn't mean to kill your mood."

"Don't worry about it. I'm still happy. Just kinda... out of energy, I guess. Today's been a lot."

"Maybe you need a nap."

I didn't fail to catch the not-so-subtle hint, but climbing onto the bed without the use of my arms and also avoiding his IV line would've been next to impossible. "I can nap later, but don't let me stop you if you need one."

"You'll be here when I wake up?"

"Either I will or your parents will," I said. "Sakura's coming over this evening, so Mom's going to come pick me up around five-thirty."

"Oh."

"If you need me to stay, I'll ask Sakura to come another night."

"No," he said. "I'll be fine if my parents are here. It's just... I'll miss you."

"Every moment we're not together, I miss you," I told him.

"Me too," he said. "But, I suppose we have to be reasonable about it. You can go at five-thirty, but if I'm still asleep, wake me up before you leave, please. I want to be awake for my goodbye kiss."

"You don't want me to kiss you while you're sleeping, like in a fairytale or something?"

"My knight in shining armour," he said.

"My prince," I replied, and we both smiled. "I'll wake you up before I leave, but you gotta remember where you are. No saying anything naughty like you do when I wake you up with a kiss at home. You don't want to embarrass me in front of your parents, do you?"

"I don't say naughty things."

"Oh? You think telling me to take my clothes off and get back in bed with you isn't naughty?"

"It isn't," he said, somehow managing to sound completely affronted. "Skin-to-skin contact is very therapeutic and beneficial."

"I guess that includes hands and lips?"

"Mm-hmm," was his soft reply.

"Go to sleep," I said.

He closed his eyes obediently. "Victor?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

I leaned down to kiss him lightly on the forehead. "We're together. There's nothing we can't face together, right?"

"Right."

"I don't know what’s gonna happen, but I'll be with you no matter what. For better or worse, in sickness and health, just like we promised, remember?”

“Just like we promised,” he repeated. "I'm glad you found me. You changed my life. I'm a better person because of you."

"You were an amazing person before I ever came along," I told him. "You think I'd give my whole heart to somebody who wasn't exceptional?"

He didn't answer, but his little smile was enough.

I honestly don't know what's going to happen, but in that moment I told myself it'd all be fine. I wanted to believe it. I still want to believe it, in fact, to the point where I keep repeating it like a mantra in my head. Everything will be fine.

Yuri once told me that a happy outcome doesn't have to be a perfect outcome; all that's needed is for you to be satisfied with it. Time and again, I've seen that he's not wrong. Nothing ever goes exactly the way I envision it, but I'm still happy.

And I guess if that's the standard we're measuring by, everything really will be fine.

[soldierswar]

Kobik - Chapter I

Bucky x Reader

(Fluff, Angst)

Plot: You and Bucky's relationship is anything but ordinary. Something that you've been used to since day one. But one day when Bucky brings home an unexpected little guest with superpowers, you reluctantly find yourself thrusted into something close to parenthood much sooner than you had ever expected to be.

Notes: I've been obsessed with Kobik and Bucky's father/daughter relationship with her since I read the Thunderbolts comics. Enjoy protective dad!Bucky.

        *Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

           “I’ve got to change that ring tone,” was your first thought after your atrociously loud phone woke you up in the middle of your mid-day nap. But you always felt the need to keep it off silent when Bucky was away from you for emergency use.

           You groggily propped yourself up and picked up the phone.

           “Everything okay?”

           “Let me guess. You just woke up?”

           There were no signs of real distress in his voice. So why the hell was he calling instead of texting?

           “Mmmmm,” you groaned.

           You being an investigative journalist had just finished working on an important writing piece that took over a month and a half to write. A piece that involved multiple trips across the ocean for in-person research. So you were pretty exhausted nowadays.

           “What’s up?” you asked mid-yawn.

           “Y/N…I need you to meet me somewhere as soon as possible. At…our spot.”

           Now you began to get worried.

You and Bucky had a special secluded spot in a nearby building that had been abandoned halfway through its being built years ago. It was safe to assume that it was just another private abandoned project after the blip that was never followed up on. So you and Bucky deemed it your secret place to go to if you needed to talk about something urgent where nobody could hear or see you.

           “Are you in some kind of trouble? Do we need a lawy—”

           “No, Y/N. It doesn’t have anything to do about me…for the most part.”

           “For the most part?”

           You could suddenly hear Sam’s voice echoing in the background again.

           “How worried do I need to be, Barnes?”  

           He hesitated.

Those pauses always made you incredibly anxious, and he knew that.

           “Are you safe? Are we safe?”  

           Another pause as he swallowed nervously.

           “James?”

           “I wouldn’t have called for you to come if I didn’t think that we’d be safe.”

           You shook your head. And although he couldn’t see it, he knew you enough to know that that was exactly what you were doing.

           “You trust me?”

           “Would I have married you if I didn’t?” you sighed lightheartedly.

           “I can be there in 30, okay?”

           And before you could hang up he said those three words that almost never faltered in making you smile, even in the worst of time.

           “I love you.”

…

           Despite the fact that he said that there was nothing really to be truly worried about, you couldn’t help but feel a pulsing anxiety surge through your body. In the years that you had been together, you never really had to use your spot for any type of unexpected emergency.

           You stumbled your way to the building being careful to not fall over the chunks of broken concrete protruding from the dirt before making your way to the door that was almost completely broken off minus two feet of it from the bottom still hinged to the door frame.

           “Hey,” said a familiar voice.

You turned around to see your husband’s beautiful face. You hadn’t seen Bucky in almost a week, so when he wrapped you in his arms you had no choice but to feel nothing but comfort and warmth. But after a two-second tender moment, you snapped out of it.

           “James,” you said.

“What is this about? Why am I here?”

           Before he could say anything, you could hear  Sam’s voice in another area of the house. It sounded almost as though he were giving orders to someone. Which was then followed by the echoes of a little childlike voice…

           You shook your head and reasoned that you were either hearing things, or things were about to get really weird.

           “Bucky,” you said raising your voice and crossing your arms.

           “How bad can it be?”

           Suddenly the only sound in the house was the sound of little footsteps sprinting towards you followed by Sam’s voice.

           “Kobi—”

           And right before your eyes, there was a little girl. A little girl that couldn’t have been older than 4 or 5 years old. She was incredibly pale and had blonde – No, white hair in two high pigtails. But the strangest thing about her was her inhumanly glowing blue eyes.

           “Everything okay Buckaroo?” she asked seeming concerned about him.

           “Shit,” Sam said under his breath as Bucky gave him a death stare.

           “Kobik,” Bucky scolded lightly, crossing his arms.

           “I told you not to come out until I said –”

           “I know,” she said as her little face and shoulders fell.

           “But someone seemed mad at you. Are you okay?”

           She turned her gaze over to you and gave you a once-over as if she were scanning you to see if you were a stranger and potential threat to your own husband.

           Sam finally joined you guys looking somewhat embarrassed.

           “Sorry, I couldn’t stop her.”  

           Now you were staring at Sam giving him the “What the hell is going on?” look.

           He didn’t seem like he wanted to be the one to answer.

Great, now you had two men who didn’t want to answer any questions about the strangest looking child that you had ever seen.  

           “Kobik,” Bucky said.

           “This is my wife, Y/N.”

           Her intense stare immediately softened, which eventually evolved into a big smile, and waved at you.

           “Hi!”

           You were awestruck, and couldn’t even answer. You just turned your stunned gaze away from her and back on to Bucky.

           “Bucky…” you said under your breath.

“I’m gonna ask you again. Why am I here?”

…

           Bucky took you outside next to a pile of large concrete rocks to sit on which you were grateful for because you were feeling pretty dizzy, and even felt a little sick.

Who was she? Did he have a kid that he decided to never tell you about? Did he feel the need to take her for some reason? Those were all logical thoughts that any rational human could think up for this type of situation. Right? And also, why did the poor thing look like…the way that she did?

           But when you finally did get Bucky to talk, everything came out of his mouth exceeded anything that you could ever imagine. In fact, for a moment of time if felt as though you were watching Bucky say a bunch of nonsensical sentences pre-exploding brain aneurism.

           But the longer he continued to speak, you realized that he was serious. This wasn’t some type of psychiatric meltdown or a sick joke.

           You shook your head as he reached over to put a comforting hand on your upper arm.

           “I know it sounds crazy, Y/N but—”

           “Crazy? No,” you shuddered, pulling away.

           “Crazy would be telling me that, I don’t know, you had some kind of accident child with someone during our marriage and you’re just bringing her over to tell me for the first time.”

           He opened his mouth to say something but you shoved your index finger in his face to continue.

           “Crazy would be telling me that you found a literal child with superpowers and you just decided to take her to see what she’ll do. But you’re meaning to tell me that it’s not even a human?”

           “Y/N—”

“You’re meaning to tell me,” you said pointing to the door.

           “That I’m supposed to believe that some extremely powerful force of ‘cosmic energy’ formed itself into a little girl, and you decided to make the impulsive decision of just taking it with you?”  

           “It’s not like that, Y/N,” he replied.

           “I’ve known about her for a little over a year now.”

           You couldn’t lie, that shocked you a little bit.

           “A year?”

           “Listen,” he said.

           “A year and a half ago were investigating a situation in Norway. One thing led to another and we ended up in an underground science lab with two scientists observing some type of glowing anomaly in the shape of a cube that they were carefully monitoring and studying. Sam and I made it our responsibility to keep this hidden and make sure it stays hidden.”  

           “So what does this have to do with—”

           He stopped you from finishing your sentence.

           “Two months later they call us to fly over and it seems that overnight this glowing anomaly somehow formed itself into this little girl that calls herself Kobik.”

           If you didn’t trust him as much as you did, you would be calling bullshit at this point. You didn’t even know that these kinds of things were humanly possible. Granted, you also didn’t think it humanly possible for a bunch of aliens to pretty much destroy New York, or for another batch of aliens to come down and somehow make half of the earth’s—No, the universe’s population disappear. So you continued to listen.

           “A few days ago we get a notice that the lab’s been breached, and by the time we got there, the two scientists are dead. When we get there to check out the scene we find that the five grown men that broke in were also dead. And a minute later we found Kobik shaking all alone in a corner.”  

           Your heart broke for her for a split second. But then you let his words sink in before realizing...

           “Wait,” you said

           “You said the intruders were dead.”

           He nodded.

           “Who killed…”

           He knew that you knew that answer.

           “She had to defend herself,” he shrugged.

           “And how did she do that, Bucky? She’s tiny.”

           And that’s when you realized that there was even more to the story.

           “Once she took form, they made it their focus to study the extent of her powers along with her behaviors. She talks, plays, and overall acts like a child of the age that she took form in…But in the wrong hands she could be used and abused into being a powerful weapon.”

           “So why did you take it?” You asked.

“It obviously can defend itself.”

           He didn’t seem thrilled about you talking about it like it was an inanimate object.

           “We don’t know if it was a fluke or not. She may not know how to properly defend herself and won’t get so lucky the next time. Next thing you know she could end up in the wrong hands. And she was scared, Y/N. I…We couldn’t just leave her.”

           You stressfully ran your fingers against your scalp through your hair.  

           “So what now?” you asked.

“She’s going to just stay here? In this abandoned half build house?”  

“No.”  

“…So is Sam going to keep her somewhere?”

The longer he stared at you the dizzier you started getting, understanding what he was actually asking.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“I’m the only one she trusts.”

His last words fell into the background as you suddenly leaned over and threw up the entirety of your lunch…maybe even breakfast.

He held your hair back until you finally stopped.

“Bucky, you’re not saying,” you croaked while wiping your mouth.

“Tell me you’re not saying that you want to take her in.”

“Y/N, she’s scared. And I’m the only one she trusts to be around.”

You shot up and involuntarily started shaking your head.

No. This was not happening. He was not bringing a lethal science experiment into our house.

The world began to spin again as you probably got up too quickly, but you were good at playing it off. Why couldn’t he just be normal and bring an abandoned puppy home or something?

Regardless, there was no way that this could happen. There was no way that you could let this happen. You didn’t know who was going to invade your house to try to come to collect it. Much worse, you didn’t know how dangerous this thing was. What it could do to either of you when you least expected. What if it…she got startled in the middle of the night and activated some type of lasers in her eyes and cut you in half?

So you said what you needed to say.  

“No.”    

“Y/N,” he replied sympathetically.

“I know that this may be a lot so suddenly but—”

“No!” you said again putting your foot down.

“We can’t…Not right now. It’s not a good time”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Damn it.

“This isn’t some abandoned puppy that you found across the road, James! You brought home this radioactive weapon that people, might I add, bad people are looking for. And they’re not even the ones that I’m scared of!”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“After all that just came out of your mouth in the past 15 minutes, you really just had the nerve to tell me that I’m the one that’s not making any sense?” you exclaimed.

“What doesn’t make any sense is that your excuse is that this isn’t the right time. What do you mean by it’s not the right time, Y/N?”

“We…I have a lot of serious shit going on right now, okay?”

“I thought you were taking time off of work,” he pointed out.

“I am, okay? It’s just…”  

You paused, you didn’t know what to say or even how to say it.

“Is there something that I need to know? What does timing have to do with anything?”

“I…well…” you stuttered.

“Spit it out, Y/N.”

You sighed in defeat. You didn’t have a choice now.

“Because damnit, Bucky!” you shouted, startling yourself by how loud you were. But there was no stopping now.

“I’m pregnant.”

[loverdrew]

Just A Little Longer | s.r

(not my gif)

Synopsis: A day out on the field doesn’t go as planned, and Y/N is thrown into am ambulance to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital before anyone can help. 

A Grey’s Anatomy x Criminal Minds crossover.

Warnings: none (?)

There was a ringing in the air louder than the one you hear everyday. I felt my breathing hinder. My eyes can only open so wide, enough to see the light, but once by my side, could see only a dark substance quickly oozing out of my body. As I came to, I could tell it was getting harder and harder to breathe, a sharp pain with every inhale and exhale. Upon instinct, I checked my fingers for mobility, feeling that they could move slightly. At least this means I am not paralyzed in my upper body. There was no other noise for a few more minutes, just a slight rustling of trees and the dirt road beneath me. I don’t even remember the initial shot being taken, whether it was from me or him. All I remember is instantly falling to the floor once I arrived on the scene. I just laid in my own blood, the realization that no one may be coming for me.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!” I could faintly hear from what felt like a mile away. My brain perked at the voice, definitively Morgan, but my body would not react. I tried with every might to move my limbs once again but alas, nothing. It was if my brain was screaming and sending pulses to my muscles but it just refused to move. I started to feel hands all over me, lifting me and placing me on what I could imagine was a gurney, as it moved. My sense of hearing coming in full force, beginning to hear people talking and shuffling. Hotch and Morgan were asking where I was being transported to and Emily and JJ consoling someone else who I could hear was practically sobbing. 

“They’re going to take care of her, c’mon let’s just go follow them now!” Emily yelled to everyone. But that distressed someone fought back.

“No! She’s not even moving! They’re intubating her! Emily she’s dying!” 

Spencer....? 

“Reid, you want to help her? Get out of here and go to the hospital.” Hotch firmly said, I could even tell he probably put his hands on Reid, as the sound of prominent footsteps were halted. And the next thing I heard was doors closing, and the sirens blaring.

Once we had arrived at the hospital, I heard a woman’s voice that sounded very strong, like she was in charge.

“What do we got?” She asked.

“GW to the left ribcage, she’s lost a lot of blood, almost 2 pints. We’ve been intubating her since we got to the scene but Bailey, it doesn’t look too good. Possible head contusion when she hit the floor as well.” The EMT stated.

“Alright I’ll page Shepard and Hunt immediately. Out of the way everybody! FBI agent coming through!” And my gurney started moving even faster, winding down a short hallway into a room where I could hear many doctors coming to look at my wounds. I felt absolutely helpless, not being able to communicate what hurts for me. What if they miss something? What if they can’t help me in time? The EMT said I lost a lot of blood, what if it’s too much to come back from?

“Hang 2 units of O neg now!” A man with a deep voice yelled out. I could feel big, callus hands turning me on my back, and the next thing I knew a needle was being shoved in my arm and a warm sensation filling my arm. 

“Owen she needs to go up to CT now or she’s not going to make it.” A woman with a softer voice spoke next to the man.

“Amelia she needs this wound patched first or she’ll bleed out and then she won’t even have a chance in CT.” He raised his voice at her, kind of like how Hotch can be sometimes.

“Let me see, I can patch quickly if everyone gives me space. Looks like the bullet left through the back as well.” This time it was another man with a softer voice than the first, and instantly felt his delicate hands holding onto my ribs, feeling a metal substance touching my skin. By my analysis, he’s most likely a plastics surgeon. Only a man in plastics has such delicate touch.

“Well hurry Jackson she’s got about 10 minutes before that brain contusion completely debilitates her and she’ll be in a coma.”

“Yea I got it.” He said nonchalant.

The sounds of beeping and shuffling were quickly interrupted by deep screams, of which belonged to the lanky pretty boy. My heart rate instantly got faster the second his voice entered the room.

“Sir, sir who are you?” The plastics guy asked urgently.

“I-I’m her, her uh- I’m just a friend, please let me be next to her.” He pleaded, rasp in his voice. I can tell he had been crying the whole ride over.

“Okay, sir you’re gonna have to wait with everybody else, she’s in a lot of distress and she’s lost a lot of blood. We’re doing everything we can for her.” Almost on cue, my heart monitor started spazzing. The loud beeping indicating I’m going into cardiac failure. 

“She’s in V-fib, get the defibrillator now!” The man with the lower voice yelled. I felt the clothing on my body being ripped open, a few buttons popping and flying off. The patches were on and in a few seconds, I felt the shock and I could feel it vibrate every vessel inside me. They cleared a second a time, my heart rate returning to normal.

“Okay Jackson you’re gonna have to finish her later she needs a head scan now.” The women voiced, and immediately I could feel the gurney being whisked and into an elevator, going up to the CT room.

Being in the big machine and hearing the slight “ZZZ” sound felt like the first time of peace since my brain fully woke up. For a few hours now I was being poked and prodded, not even getting a chance to hear my own thoughts. This was the only time I got to really savor whatever life I had left, to really hear and feel the people I love around me, and to prepare for what could happen. It felt inevitable to try and escape death, it was a part of my job. And the one regret I’d have is not being the real me with the person I loved most in this world. That tall, pretty, incredible genius was the love of my life for the past 3 years I’ve been with the BAU, and he was everything and more I could’ve ever dreamed of and better. I could physically feel my heart aching at the way his voice cracked yelling for me. I wished nothing more than to look him straight in the eye and hold his hands, telling him I’ll be okay. The way he stuttered when he said friend, so unsure. We had kissed just a few days ago, after a long day of work he came by my hotel room and finally expressed his feelings after so long. The fireworks we shared were something out of a book. The way his hands fit around my face, holding me so close and so softly as if I were glass and he was afraid to break it. We hadn’t talked about it since, but we figured we had more time. But now I realize time is never guaranteed. 

Within 30 minutes I was in a regular room, the plastics man working on sowing back up my wounds. “You, Ms.Y/N are one of the luckiest gunshot victims I’ve seen; no severe tears. Which means this just needs a quick stitch and you’ll be all set.” He said softly to me, I could feel a smile on his face as he spoke.

I heard another person walk into the room, footsteps almost so quiet. 

“H-How, how is she Dr.?” He was shaking.

“The CT showed some swelling but no internal bleeding. We’re going to keep her here overnight but I’m sorry, I don’t know if and when she’ll wake up. That’s all up to her.” The women sadly spoke, unsure of even her own diagnosis.

I heard Spencer start to cry again, a loud puff coming from deep in his chest.

“Dr. Reid, could you please sit with me.” The two of them stepped to sit in the 2 seats next to my bed.

“I know what it feels like to be in a field of study where, you know everything there is to know. And I also know what it feels like to be completely out of control in that field, when you know what to do, but you can’t even do it.” She sighed. “I am one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, I know almost everything...but yet I had a brother who died of a brain injury. I could’ve been there to help him but I couldn’t do a damn thing. I know what this feels like.” Reid started crying harder, his cries muffled by his own hands. He was trying so hard not to let the sounds leak from the room, but it did and it made my bones stand still.

“I had a mentor who was in a coma, and even though I’m in plastics”- (told y’all) -”there was still nothing I could do for him. We just had to wait. He was one of my greatest friends, one of the best people you’d ever meet, so loved. The love of his life died in front of his eyes and I think most of us knew he’d be going next, to be with her. Life was too painful without her. Do you love this girl right here?” Spencers respond came almost immediately.

“More than anybody or anything.”

“Then wait, just a little longer. If she loves you like you love her she’s going to fight to wake up and be alive.” Both of the doctors walked out, leaving me and my lover boy.

His veiny hands grabbed onto mine, rubbing softly at my knuckles.

“I’m gonna do what he said, just wait a little longer. But please Y/N, if you can hear me, come back to me.” He cried into my hand, the tears coating it.

As if the Gods granted it themselves, I moved my eyelids open. Very slowly, and it hurt to do so, but they opened. Spencer sensed movement, and his head instantly came up holding on tighter to my hand. A weak smile placed on my face as my tired eyes loving locked with his.

“Waiting for me?” 

[beyondconfessor]

Unsaid Desire

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Missy/Reader

Summary: You've been asked to babysit Missy into being good while the Doctor runs off a quick mission, but she has other ideas once she realises what's pressing through your pants.

Note Before: Crossposted onto AO3

The Doctor had a knack for bad timing. You were on your way downtown for a hot, dirty hook-up with an ex––the kind of hot, dirty hook-ups where she texted “Do you still have that toy? You should wear it when you come and see me.”. So you did because you wanted that kind of filthy sex where you fuck some hot girl in an alley while she digs her nails into your shoulders.

But it was just as you were leaving your house in your best casual date clothes, with a strap packed comfortably in your pants, that the Doctor appeared and began advising you that there was urgent business, yes absolutely, no problem, he’ll get you to this exact moment, if a few minutes later, but you are URGENTLY needed. Right. Now.

Did he mention it was urgent? Because it was URGENT.

An urgent mission…to babysit, so it seemed.

It involved you staying in the TARDIS while the Doctor, Nardole and Bill went out and explored the cool alien town. Because you were to stay here and look after Missy and ensure she Did Not Get Up To Anything (though you knew that if Missy wanted to get up to anything, you wouldn’t be able to actually stop her. You wouldn’t even tattle on her because, honestly, you liked your insides to remain in the insides of your body more than you feared the Doctor).

So, there you were. In the TARDIS console room, packing for a hot date, watching as Missy bent over the console to adjust the TARDIS monitor that the Doctor had set up for her to watch as he, Bill and Nardole did Good Things.

Unfortunately, the camera the Doctor had on the lapel of his jacket was jerky and prone to cutting out, however, which meant Missy was often fiddling with the TARDIS to fix it, because, as she had told you, that was far more interesting than you were.

You shifted in your seat, arms crossed, sinking in on yourself.

Usually, you were up for whatever the Doctor said, but you had had a hot date and were now being told you couldn’t step out to the new planet, so your mood was a burning mix of frustration and arousal.

“Grumpy today,” Missy said.

You looked up at her, and then glanced away, ignoring the way her skirts shifted around her ankles as she fiddled with the console. “I had somewhere else to be.”

To that, she paused. “And what’s more fascinating than being in an alien craft? Don’t you humans get all gooey being in something so far beyond your capabilities to understand? I mean, it’s bigger on the inside! How can it be?” She mocked, eyes going wide as she posed, waiting for your response.

You ignored her, choosing to stare at the wall instead.

Missy’s heels clicked, edging closer. It made you want to pull back. There was something about the way her perfume washed over you that made you want to bury your nose in her throat and inhale deeply.

“Something the matter, poppet?”

“No,” you responded flatly.

You had an awful feeling that she knew where your thoughts were when you looked at her. There were times when you thought the filthiest things (just briefly!) and watched as her head tilted to you, a slow smile pooling over her lips before she turned away.

It could be a coincidence. You wanted it to be a coincidence. But you suspected otherwise.

“It’s just us girls, here,” she said. “You can tell me anything.”

You looked at her, and for a moment wondered what she would do if you said what was actually on your mind. Given her disgust about humans need to “constantly breed” you doubted it’d be anything nice (not that that bothered you. Her snarking commentary was nearly as good as how you imagined she sounded when you pressed her to a surface and sucked on her neck).

You exhaled, pushing the thoughts away. “There’s nothing to say. Shouldn’t you be watching the Doctor?”

She scoffed. “Because he’s going to quiz me later?” You paused, holding your tongue and her eyes narrowed. “How original of him. Well, I’m sure that watching him negotiate with a bunch of plants will certainly be the missing thing for this rehabilitation he’s going on about.”

“I think he’s trying to play to your fear of failing.”

“I don’t have a fear of failing,” Missy said, and there she gave a strange look. “If you’re afraid to fail, then you make mistakes. Sometimes the most frightening thing can be succeeding.” She turned, looking back to the video. It seemed to only be Bill and Nardol talking at the markets––even you felt your mind haze in disinterest, despite the alien culture.

You turned away, thinking about the hot date, about the way your pants pressed between your thighs. About how you kept wanting to ask the doctor about the future of sex toys but always seemed to shy away from it at the last moment because it felt like asking your dad.

By some point in the future, on some planet, they must have developed a strap the wearer could feel, right?

Missy was leaning over the console again and all you could think about was pulling those skirts up over her waist.

Un-fucking-fair for the Doctor to pull you away from a hot date. It’d been months since you’d had your tongue in another woman. You were nearly climbing the walls and half prepared to shag the first girl you could get your hands on and had you not cared for your friendship with Bill more than your own needs, you might have tried something there.

But you cared for Bill’s feelings. Or, you were pretty certain she wasn’t interested in you anyway and it was easier to simplify it that way.

“Come here,” Missy said. You looked at her and watched as she made an exacerbated look at you. “Well, I’m not going to bite you.”

Pity.

“Unless you ask first, of course.”

You swallowed, squeezing your jaw to prevent yourself from saying anything stupid as you walked over and stood beside her.

“What do you want?”

“I need you to move that,” she said, pointing to a nozzle out of her reach. “And then hold that while I do something marvellous but utterly incomprehensible to your tiny mind.”

“Why?”

“Because the picture’s fuzzy and in case you haven’t noticed, we can’t hear,” she snapped the last bit and you stepped forward, moving to where she asked you to stand. “Turn that twice, and hold that red button while I…do this,” she said. And you watched as she flicked through a few buttons, flicking switches, turning other things, and then she did something you didn’t expect.

She pressed between you and the console, reaching to touch something to your far right, as her arse wiggled against your front to squeeze between, you watched as she tensed and then suddenly pressed firmer to you.

The room felt hot and muggy all at once.

“Last I knew, human biology being changed in your decade requires quite an extensive surgery, and you don’t have the smell of someone who's had surgery.”

You swallowed, pulling back, but still holding the dial. “I didn’t plan to be here tonight. I was meant to be somewhere else,” you explained, before biting down on your dark. Your face was hot and you just wanted this to be over as fast as possible.

Missy turned to look over her shoulder, her smile going wide as she moved back, pushing against you. “And you were all prepped for your…paramour was it?”

The flush burned across your cheeks. “We don’t need to discuss it.”

“Oh, but I think we should. Is it an earthen one, or have you made your way to Sirius Sixty-Nine yet?”

“Sirius…sixty-nine?”

“It’s…think of it like an extensive alien sex shop that takes up the size of a planetoid. Named by humans, of course. But we can go there if you’re curious. The Doctor won’t even notice,” she was purring her words by the end of it and you could feel her slight wiggle as she pressed firmer against you. “I bet that human biological need to breed has you desperate to feel what it’s like to penetrate someone.”

“I can penetrate plenty with my hands,” you said as if you hadn’t just been thinking about what it felt like to have a cock.

Missy turned on her heel so her back was to the TARDIS console and her front pressed against you. All at once she’d propped herself up on the console and wrapped her legs around your waist, tugging you close. There was a heartbeat pause at that, as you felt your jeans press to her, knowing where it was pressing. “It’s different,” she said. “When you penetrate someone with a cock, when you feel that person squeeze around you. It’s different to your hands. Especially if your hands are…” and there she paused, grabbing yours and tugging them down, to wrap around her sides, below her breasts. “Occupied,” she finished with a sharp look, daring you to move them.

You swallowed, thumb tracing over the material of her blouse, feeling the corset bones underneath your hands. “Missy.”

“Don’t you want to feel me?”

“Don’t tease me. This isn’t fair.”

“Who said anything about teasing?” She asked, holding your gaze steady. “You don’t know what I want.”

“You don’t want this. You’re always making fun of…” you wanted to tug away, but her legs were firm around your waist, her hands deceptively strong around your wrists. “I didn’t think…you’d like that sort of thing.”

“What? That I don’t care for the simplest bodily pleasure? I’m not immune to desire. Now tell me, shall I go and find some other way to busy myself while the Doctor is off doing good? Or can I count on you to follow through with those nasty thoughts you’ve been having of me?”

“You…” and you trailed off, because the correct response, from the Doctor, would be to ensure she paid attention to what he was doing.

But Missy’s eyes were so blue, and her mouth was parted, her chin lifted up to look at you, causing the curve of her neck to become more apparent. You wanted to trail your mouth down that curve, to kiss her skin and tug the clothes from her body. You wanted to taste her and feel her, and––

You should have been worried that she confirmed your very fear of telepathy, but you could feel the corset moving with every breath of hers, watching her breath grow slow and heavy, her face tilted, waiting, watching you with curiosity.

“What do you want?” You asked her sincerely.

She scoffed, tugging your hands away. “If you can’t figure that out––“

There you stopped her, grabbing her and pressed her back to the TARDIS console just as she attempted to wriggle out from between you. “I said…” you repeated, slow, firmly to her as you held her still. “What do you want?”

She paused then, and a slow smile pulled over her lips. “How direct,” she teased, rolling her ‘r’s. “I want you on your knees.”

You sunk to your knees and it was all the permission you needed as your hands lifted up her skirts. Your heart thudded in your chest, waiting for the moment she’d laugh, or scoff or just pull a weapon from thin air and shoot you dead.

But she didn’t. Her eyes remained steady on you, watching as you kissed above her ankle where her heeled boot ended, trailing over her calves, her knees and thighs as the skirt was pushed up high, around her waist.

“Do time ladies often go without their knickers?” You asked.

“Skirts like this make them seem redundant,” she said, but there was a knowing look in her eyes, and you felt as if she was reading your thoughts.

No, you knew she was.

Her grin widened. “Perhaps I planned this,” she responded, echoing your own thoughts. “Manipulated the Doctor to get you alone in here with me.”

You paused, holding her gaze steady, watching for any changes to her expression as you kissed across her thigh, your mouth pressing against the crease where her thigh met her hip. Her expression softened, and there you were familiar with the look of desire.

“Are you lonely?” You asked her, “Or only looking for relief.” It was a sincere inquiry. You wanted to know what she wanted.

Her expression sharpened. “You’re a smart girl,” she teased. “Get started and I’m sure you can extrapolate from there.”

You obeyed.

It was easy to feel your mind soften, your thoughts quieten as you kissed over the pelvic bone, across the dark curls. Your hands drew up her thighs and there, with your hands on her hips, you felt her stomach tighten, intaking a breath as your mouth pressed over the slick folds, tongue sliding against the labia to taste the arousal.

Time Ladies, you found, tasted similar to the women you’d been with. There was a softer taste, muted sweetness, but it was still familiar. You stroked the flat over her vulva, before your tongue curled over her clit, testing what she liked––going from firm to soft, fast to slow, tracing different movements as you listened to her breath hitch, her thighs clench and relax around you.

Missy seemed to let you indulge in tasting her, of feeling her breath intake and muscles squeeze, before her hand curled in your hair and tugged you back.

“That’s enough of that, now.”

“Is it?” For a moment you hesitated over if you hadn’t done the right thing, and then her head tilted, her expression softening.

“We’ve limited time, and I’d rather this move to the next step,” she said, so matter of factly you wondered if you were a masturbatory tool to her. And then you wondered if that mattered at all.

You rose to your feet and tugged her thighs apart just as she pulled you close, undoing the zip of your pants, reaching out to pull out the dildo from the depths of your pants. And God, what’d you give to feel that hand curl around you, to feel her stroke it.

“You’re going to be fast about this,” she told you, “and if you’re a very good girl and do this right, I might just break out of my cell and find you again should I ever get the itch.”

“Because I’m going to be at your beck and call?”

“You will,” she said and then she pulled you closer, sliding the toy inside of her so sharply you found yourself gasping.

Well, you’d wanted something quick and dirty. Hand under her thighs, you pulled back and thrust inside of her, watching as her eyes fluttered, her back arching. Each thrust had her melting away, to wherever she wanted to be in her thoughts, mouth parted, a soft sigh on her lips as she rocked against you.

For a moment you were uncertain as to what you should be doing if you should move softly for her––as you usually would for the first time.

But this was Missy. If she wanted soft, she would have made some sardonic comment to the effect. Instead, she was drifting off to whatever bliss she wanted. You knew she was squeezing around the shaft as you thrust inside of her, muscles clenching, and for a moment you could…almost…imagine…

“Your thoughts are awfully busy,” Missy said. “Lamenting over the fact you can’t feel what it’s like inside of me?”

You didn’t respond, glaring at her.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she said, arching, breath itching. “I can give you taste.”

And before you could agree, her hand had snatched at yours, pulling it to her mouth where she placed two fingers over her tongue. Your pace slowed for a moment as you felt her tongue wrap over your fingers, curling as she sucked, drawing your fingers down her tongue and then back.

Her lips pressed over the length of them and oh, God, you felt like you could come from this alone.

And then your fingers were out of her mouth with a soft pop as you dropped them wetly against the console, breathing hard.

“Get back to doing your job,” she said to you, like a teacher giving a sharp warning to put your head down back on your own work.

You swallowed, curling back in your confidence, trying to remember to thrust in her in an even speed––but her hand curled in your hair, tugging so your attention was brought to the brilliant, blue eyes and snarl on her lips. “If you’re not going to do this right, what good are you?”

You glared at her, shoving her back against the console as your hands gripped at her thighs, thrusting back in her. How dare she turn you on like that, and have the audacity to act like––like––

She moaned softly, and then her hand had grabbed yours, leading you to grasp at her hair. You blinked at her before fisting it tight, pulling her head back so her neck was elongated and exposed. Your breath came out in a pant as you leant forward against the flesh of her neck, your teeth dragging over her pulse.

“Yes,” she hissed. “All those years of evolution, and you’re still no better than a dog in heat.”

You bit down, sucking and felt her rock hard against you, a sound reverberating through the air and you didn’t know if it was your enjoyment or hers.

You could feel her thighs tensing, her hips shuddering as nails dug deep into your shoulders, pulling you tight.

And there, in a hot breath against your ear, you heard her exhale in relief before she shoved you backwards from her, sending you with a swift kick to hit the side of the TARDIS.

You panted, pants slipping down your thighs as Missy dropped off the console, onto the mesh ground as she adjusted her skirts and wiped at her neck and mouth, cleaning the evidence of you from her. Her eyes turned to you, and then a sharp smirk formed, before it faded, as her nose wrinkled, looking you up and down. “You can leave.”

“Leave?”

She turned away, adjusting the monitor to look back at the Doctor’s screen, fixing it so at last sound came out before she waved you off. “Off you pop. Go and light a cigarette, or whatever you humans do.”

You bared your teeth, shoving the toy back in your pants and doing it up. The slickness of the toy didn’t escape you, and a longing pulse throbbed in your clit. But your job was done. Well, fuck her then. Thank fuck that was over.

Or so you thought.

As it was, you cleaned up, you sat back in your spot and it was barely another hour passing before the Doctor returned and dropped you back home (a day late, thank’s doc.)

After receiving the half-dozen texts from your ex going from confused to angry, burning a bridge that probably should have remained burnt in the first place, you laid in bed at night, thinking about the exchange, wondering what you would do if Missy turned up.

Tell her to fuck off, maybe.

Unlikely.

You’d bring her inside, undress her off that skirt and pull her onto your face because since those many hours ago, you couldn’t help but think about her grinding on your face.

[wizkiddx]

worst case scenario part 3

umm so, never ever intended it to be this long but here we are. again this is v dark so please please read the warning!! also [and obvs] this is very medically inaccurate and just a work of my head aha

[part 1] [part 2]

warning: mentions of death / hospital / mentions of childhood abandonment too- please don't read if this could affect you <3

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His heart was thundering in his chest, so much so it drowned out all other sounds making all the doctors words fade into the background. Conciously, he really was trying to listen to what the doctor was saying; consciously he knew she was trying to prepare him to see Y/n; consciously he knew she knew he wasn’t okay. But really? It didn’t matter, and as they drew closer to his fiancé Tom felt an urgent sense of relief purely know she was there. She was there and she wasn’t dead…yet. 

Only two people were allowed to go up, just because the nature of the ward - everything was meticulously controlled, including the comings and goings of visitors. If you’ve never been in an ICU it’s a pretty hard environment to describe. Really, it’s just another hospital ward, with capacity of about 20 beds. Each bed has much more equipment surrounding that the average and a nurse is stationed per patient, monitoring every possible variable that the machienes are measuring, so any trend (either positive or negative) can be identified at the earliest point. Though in everyones head, it seems as though ICU is a common place ending up for some unfortunate sod when something bad happens, it’s actually really rare for someone to be so ill and dependant on medicine to maintain normal body functioning. Only the most severe trauma, infection of the most dangerous microorganism, surgery of such high stakes normally make an appearance on the ward. And ,on average, between 8-20% patients that are admitted to an ICU never make it out. 

And those grim figures were unignorable to anyone. As soon as you walk through the doors, the atmosphere is intense and ineffable. It’s not spoken, but is so incredibly morbid it makes anyone shiver. 

Dom felt this, squeezing his sons shoulder as he followed Tom and the doctor, just a pace or so behind them. Having offered to go with Tom, whilst Harrison took Nikki to see the baby, Dom was now feeling just as clueless as his son did. Except he was actually listening to what the doctor was trying to warn them about and it scared him. The three, made it to the door and with a swipe of her ID card the doctor admitted the Holland men in. Gratefully, none of the staff took any notice of who was walking in, they were much too busy for that - Dom was incredibly relieved, had someone recognised Tom when he was in this state, god knows what would’ve happened.

The doctors pace was with purpose, perhaps so that the two couldn’t spend too long ogling the other patients in the beds - who all looked almost unhuman with the amount of tubes and wires coming out and into them. But then, she slowed up, halting infront of a bay about 5 or 6 down the ward. Spinning on her heel and with a subtle nod to momentarily release the nurse from her post at Y/n’s bedside, to give them a bit of privacy, she looked at the two men. 

“You can touch her, just be gentle with the wires.”

Shellshocked and terrified, Tom was frozen those 2 metres away from the bed barely able to see her face over all the equipment. Yet undoubtedly, it was his finance’s delicate visage lying on the white pillow, with a thick white mouthpiece and tube covering her mouth and stuffed into her nose. Not able to move, both Dom and Dr Goodwell sensitively waited - it was an adjustment to say the least, seeing someone you knew so well look so different. With quiet tears starting to roll down his eyes, Tom eventually started to inch toward the bedside, taking his time to try and absorb everything of this frankly ridiculous situation. He couldn’t get over how, even considering it all, above her nose it just looked like Y/n. Like she was asleep in their bed, eyes closed as if she had once again  fallen asleep infront of a random Netflix movie Tom had bugged her enough to watch in bed. And it was, ever so slightly comforting. That was still her, that was still the love of his life lying there. And she was still alive - which given the last few hours, was enough. 

Reaching the bedside, Tom naturally reached out and stroked the top of her head delicately, pulling into place a few rogue strands that seemed to have a mind of their own - she had always hated when her hair got frizzy. The picture had Tom’s mind casting back to their first holiday, a serene if quick few days in Fiji-  though Y/n didnt know this , that holiday had been one of the most important times in their relationship for Tom. Until then, given the nature of his job, the couple had only ever managed brief periods together. They spent time together as and when they could in between Tom’s busy schedule but it was never as long as they’d like. Somehow though, he’d managed to squeeze a few days away to surprise Y/n with the trip. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped it would be and more. In fact it was then Tom was oh so sure he would be spending the rest of his life with her. This thought crossed his mind on the last morning, when he had for once woken up before Y/n - her head mere cms away from his on the pillow. Just like now, her hair had been all over the place and her sparkling green eyes locked shut. Contrastingly though, in Fiji the sight had made him smile softly; now it just made him cry again. 

“Would you like a minute alone Mr Holland? We will just wait outside?” Not even turning round to properly respond to the doctor, Tom just nodded violently, not taking his eyes off his fiancé - waiting till he heard his Dad and the doctor leave the bay; then the curtains be completely drawn to a close, before he shakily cleared his throat to whisper.

“Hey darling… you um-you’ve scared me shitless today… and… and I’m supposed to be the dramatic one in the relationship.” Chuckling wetly, Tom clasped his other hand in Y/n’s - still mindful of the IV port coming out of the top of her wrist. Not that he was expecting any sort of response, yet the lack of her squeezing his hand back still had his heart sink. “Look I…I love you so bloody much and I really need you to get better okay? You’ve never listened to me before but I really am begging you to now, I just.” Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes momentarily and delicately rested his forehead on hers - his touch feather light. Just needing to feel her. “I just really need you and I really love you., okay?” 

Unsurprisingly he didn’t get a response. The rhetorical question hung in the air alone, safe the mechanical whir of the ventilator and various chimes of the machines and monitor, till his Dad came in. Grasping and squeezing his shoulder lightly, Dom provided the stimulus for his son to unfold from over the bed, standing upright, as both men just took in the sight of Y/n lying there for a minute or two. 

“I need her Dad. I-I-“

“I know Tom.” Speaking so quietly it was barely audible, Dom’s eventual agreement at what Tom was saying was in a way a relief. Haz and his mum had both either been saying or implying that they would be okay no matter what - which came from a good place but was so infuriating. Because god forbid, if this situation got worse Tom knew it wouldn’t be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. So his Dad’s simple acknowledgment meant a lot, causing Tom to turn round and embrace his slightly shorter father. 

Dr Goodwell silently watched the exchange for a short while and once the men eventually pulled away she stepped forward to give some more information. She went through what all the biggest and scary looking tubes and wires were doing for Y/n, before explaining the next steps. 

“Now as I said before we are sedating her at the moment, while we wait and see if she gets any complications from the surgery that are better treated while she is asleep. By this afternoon we will have a clearer idea and by that point we may choose to withdraw that sedation. It’s important that you are aware though that she might not wakeup immediately. Sometimes some people that have suffered similarly to your fiancé will be unconscious for a while in what I’d presume you’ve heard of as a ‘coma’. Now it’s not as dramatic as you see on TV shows, it’s just Ms Y/l/n’s brain giving her body a chance to recover. It’s often a longer process, which I know is something you don’t want to hear, but I have to be honest.” The doctor was stern but in a softer and from-a-caring-place. “These patients are suggested to possibly recover quicker if they have a steady support network behind them, which it seems like she does. That means that you need to look after yourself so you can help her sir, especially in what could be a long process. It’s not going to be helpful for Yn if you’re killing yourself trying to be here all the time… It seems like Y/n already has quite a big group of you here for her, so please remember you’ve got all of her care team here and everyone else to help you too….Does that make sense sir?”

“Tom” His Dad, in a gentle but firm warning tone, urged Tom to speak and to listen. Properly listen. 

“Yeh… I-yeh It’s just all a lot right now.”

“Of course… and we promise that if anything changes with her condition, you will be phoned straight away. You are welcome to stay as long as you want - the only rules are two at a time, no flowers, sign in and out and then sanitise your hands pretty excessively. If you need anything, Ms Y/l/n’s nurse will be your first port of call.”

“Thanks for everything” Dom nodded in a gracious manner, which the doctor seemed to massively appreciate - apparently, for the job they do not receiving a hell of a lot of thanks. 

“I’ll pop back in a little bit.”

And for a couple of hours everything everything felt like a bit of an anticlimax, nothing happened, not a lot changed. Just Tom and Dom sat next to Y/n’s bed in silence; Harrison and Nikki downstairs with the baby, till Dom got a phone call from Nikki asking them to meet at the neonatal unit  - which was limited by visitor numbers unlike the ICU. Thinking it’d be simple, the elder man gained Tom’s attention with a call of his name, explaining they should go down to meet up. 

“I’m not going down there.”

“Son, I know you’re worried by Y/n isnt going anywhere right now. The doctors said they’d call you if anything happens.”

“It’s not-“ Tom stopped himself, biting his tongue and looking away from his Dad. “I just don’t want to go down there.” Slowly, Dom was more and more realising Tom’s thought process and honestly… it scared him. In the hopes this was just a big misunderstanding he offered a different option - hoping Tom would equally refuse that. Dom suggested going down to the cafe instead, which most unfortunately Tom agreed to. It wasn’t leaving Y/n that was the issue, it was being near the baby. 

Tom’s daughter. Unnamed and apparently abondoned by both parents. 

Anyhow, Dom resigned to playing into Tom’s choice, perhaps Nikki and Harrison would be able to swing him round, to see sense. It still took Tom getting the nurse to triple check they had his correct number on record , just in case, before Dom could tear him away from the bed. Fortunately the pair found a quiet and secluded corner table, where Tom was still yet to be recognised, while Nikki and Haz found them too. 

What followed was Tom answering all his mum and Harrison’s questions about Y/n’s condition, in a blunt and emotionless manner - without Tom returning fire by asking any questions at all about his beautiful little baby girl. Eventually Nikki braved it, someone had to bring it up. 

“Well it sounds like littles going to change for a while… maybe you should head home for a bit? You’ve been up half the night and you look shattered love. You don’t have to go back to yours… you could stay in your old room for a bit?” Tom being by himself at the moment sounded like the most incredibly stupid idea ever, Nikki was offering it as a choice - when in reality there was only one option.

“Maybe later this evening I will? Just don’t want to leave her alone yet.”

“It’s already 7 love, you’ve not eaten all day, you got to look after yourself too.” Harrison and Dom sat awkwardly while Nikki tried to delicately encourage Tom into what was the only sensible plan, watching him nurse the small hot choclate in both his palms. Time really had lost all meaning at this point, for him it felt both years since he’d first arrived with Y/n and at the same time barely 10 minutes ago. It felt weird. 

“We can take shifts? If-if you want someone with her I mean… I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if it means you head back to your parents.” Harrison really truly didnt mind, in fact he sort of wanted to. He wanted to see Y/n’s face definitely alive, wanted to feel reassured by the monitors. Shockingly, Tom slowly nodded his head, surprising everyone with his lack of argument. None of them could work out whether it was a good thing him not putting up much arguement ; either he was heeding everyones advice of taking care of himself - or he had just given up. Harrison, as much as he didn’t want to, was favouring the latter. 

“Okay” Nikki declared optimistically “So maybe you and Harrison go up so you can say good night to Y/n, then we can all go and pick up the baby?” She opened the plan to the floor, allowing for input but got nothing - except maybe Tom’s jaw unconsciously tensing uncomfortable at the latter part of her statement. Dom noticed. 

Not one noticed but knew what it meant. His son blamed his granddaughter. His son, right now in that moment, hated the unnamed and totally helpless baby girl. 

part 4?

[spencerspecifics]

Okay yes hi hello this is me gracing y’all with my writing Bc I’ve had this idea forever!! This is going to be multiple chapters, here is chapter two. Enjoy :)

~

Technical Analyst (ch.1)

~

Short description: Spencer works as a technical analyst alongside Garcia and Kevin, though he hasn’t ever really worked directly with the BAU team, he works more in filing and researching. But when Garcia goes on vacation leave, and Kevin is busy with his own work, Spencer steps up to help- and that’s when he meets Derek Morgan.

———————————————————————

Spencer hated technology. He hated computers, tablets, cell phones, he hated it all. He hated everything and anything that isn’t on printed onto paper. So how the fuck did he end up as a technical analyst- whose entire job was based around proficient use of technology? In very short, budget cuts.

He originally worked in domestic terrorism, though he never fit in well there. He was a good worker, fast and able to do a lot. But his coworkers never let him feel included. He would hear them make plans without him, ignore him in conversations, only reaching out to him for his great memory to help solve a case. It was dehumanizing. He was just a brain for them, nothing more.

Then, the budget cuts came. And he got removed from the team, as he had the least amount of hours in the field- which wasn’t his fault. The rest of his team always forced him into the research position, so while they were off chasing the bad guys, he was stuck researching with a computer he doesn’t trust.

So yeah, he wasn’t an asset to them. But the bureau knew a mind like his in general was an asset, a fountain they’d like to keep a tap on. So they made work for him. It was mostly menial. He would assist with intense cases when necessary, but even then it was just research. No one knew what he would be like in the field, because they never gave him the chance.

Spencer tried not to think about how unfair this was, how stupid and purely tedious it was. He would rather be working as a T.A. at this point- which wouldn’t even be that bad. At least he gets heard and seen then.

~

Spencer’s normal day consists of going from his apartment to the bureau building, to directly into his cramped little office that was about the size of a jumbo walk in closet. A nice size to store clothes, but not so nice when you have to have a person, a desk, a chair, three computer monitors, two filing cabinents, a trash can, a fax machine, and a printer all crammed in there.

Yeah, his workplace was entirely too small. Thankfully it didn’t impact his ability to work, though, most the time Spencer finished his work quickly; and would end up reading. Spencer didn’t venture out from his office that much at all, (he always brought his own coffee so he didn’t have to worry about bugging the field agents.) the exception to leaving his office was to go across the hall to Penelope Garcia, his only sort of friend that he had at work. She was always so bubbly, it was a breath of relief for him to go see her- she reminded him of all the positive things, he definitely couldn’t do the job without her.

Not to mention, she had to train him from starting point zero. Spencer hated technology, after all. So he never made an effort to learn coding, hacking, how to re-route and track things. He knew nothing like that, hell, he struggles with his cellphone turning on sometimes.

Thankfully, she was able to get some sense into him, and he was pretty good at what he could do. Though he was still working out python coding, he was enjoying the learning process of using technology.

That being said- he still despises technology, and he hopes that once he leaves the job, he can throw away his very unnecessary but work mandated laptop.

~

Spencer made his way into the bureau building, messenger bag slung over his shoulder awkwardly as a thermos of coffee was held tightly in his right hand, while the left one reached for the door handle to enter. He got in no problem, security didn’t stop him anymore, thankfully. Though in the beginning, they did check him constantly, verifying that he belonged there. After all, he looked young, and he definitely didn’t belong in the bureau building. But then again, Garcia didn’t look like she belonged there either.

Security just made presumptions about people, he shrugged that thought off as he made his way to the elevator. Thankfully no one else was in there, he pressed the button for floor six, and the elevator doors shut.

The elevator whirred to life, taking him up to the sixth floor slowly. Thankfully today was a slow day, there wasn’t really any important case he had to work on. (Not like he ever really got given cases to work on, anyways.) So Spencer was hoping he would be able to finish his work quickly, as he had some books he brought with him that he wanted to read and re-read before the day was finished.

The elevator dinged, a signal it had reached its necessary location, before the doors finally slid back. He stepped out, taking his usual left down the hallway immediately. Forward through the glass doors was the bullpen with the agents who worked in the BAU. And god, what he wouldn’t give to be a field agent, working as a profiler. That’s why he wanted to join the bureau, and yet he was so close- his office only down the hall. But he was simultaneously so far, not being trusted by all the bureaucratic bosses, who didn’t know if he would be a good agent to warrant being put out into the field.

He hated it, but he tried not to think about it as he reached his office, Garcia’s door was shut, she was on vacation, or so he had heard. Spencer pulled on his office door, entering with ease as he moved into the cramped workspace.

Spencer sat his messenger bag down onto his desk, sitting himself down in his office chair and taking a minute to breathe in and out before continuing. Spencer hated this job. It was mind numbingly boring, he was so close to quitting. He knew the bureau would fight tooth and nail to keep him, however, but if that was the case, why not give him a better job- he didn’t want a nicer office, he wanted to help people.

He sighed, today was just one of those days where he was extra mad about not being treated right, he tried to ignore this thought process as he got ready to work; setting his coffee down by his computer mouse to his right, setting his messenger bag onto the floor next to him, pulling off the scarf that was wrapped loosely around his neck and hanging it over the back of his chair. Now he was ready for the day.

~

Penelope didn’t mean to forget to tell the team that she was going to be gone- she assumed they knew. At least Hotch did, all the rest of them knew was that she was going to take a week off to relax, they just didn’t know when (she had too many vacation days saved up, so she had to use them or lose them. She chose the former.) It was just a total brain fart moment on her part, so while she decided to hit up her favorite stores, spas, and websites; the team had no idea, they assumed she was holed up in her office, hacking away at whatever she normally does.

This would only show itself when Derek needed her, calling her office number and it going to voicemail “Hi, this is Penelope Garcia with the FBI and I’m too awesome to come to the phone right now, if it’s an urgent matter please call Aaron Hotchner-“ yeah, Derek hung up his phone by then, deciding to call her personal cell.

“Hi, hot chocolate!” She answered cheerfully, the sounds of people talking and laughing could be heard in the background, which Derek took note of. “Babygirl- your work phone sent me to voicemail, where are you?” Garcia was quiet for a second, before practically blowing Morgan’s eardrums out; “Oh- damnit! I knew I was forgetting something!” “Care to fill me in?” He asked her curiously, “Yes-“ Garcia sighed before continuing on, “Sorry. I’m taking those vacation days Hotch told me I had to use or else I’d lose.”

“So you’re not at the office.” He stated, “That I am not, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you! But my pal Spencer Reid should be covering for me.” “Spencer Reid?” Derek asked, unfamiliar with that person, “Why not kevin?” “Ugh, I don’t know- he’s doing that thing where he’s actually busy with other work for once. But Spencer is good, I taught him everything he knows- and I’m pretty sure he’s got three PhDs, so yeah, you replaced one genius with another- so don’t worry!” “Okay, well...” Derek took a second, “You sure I can ask Spencer about everything I’d ask you?” He meant work related, within being able to hack and get everything that Garcia would be able to get. Because Morgan knew that her talents were very special, and having someone else replicate them seemed near impossible, so he was a bit hesitant to trust someone new.

“Oh yeah- he’ll find everything easy peasy lemon squeezy. Don’t worry yourself, sugar.” “Okay, thank you mama. Have a good week of rest.” “I will! I have an appointment for a spa, and oh my god Derek- they do a seaweed wrap thing, isn’t that crazy?” “So you’re gonna get rolled up like sushi?” “No! Ew! Don’t compare me to raw fish!”

The phone call continued for a bit after that, as Derek wasn’t in an urgent matter. It was just a filing day at the office, before he hung up he asked where Spencer was, though; “Oh, he’s in the office next to mine, across the hall!” Garcia told him happily. Derek had thought that was a storage closet, but he didn’t tell her- instead thanking her and hanging up.

Now to pay this mystery computer whiz a visit.

~

Spencer was in the middle of re-routing a bunch of information that Garcia needed to send to her boss, Aaron Hotchner. Spencer didn’t share the same boss, since he was technically working in a more basic division of the bureau, he instead answered to Strauss- which was a royal pain in the ass, but he always turned his work in on time, came in when needed, he had never had to face her wrath yet, thankfully.

Spencer typed away, trying to get all the data to get to Hotchner as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to wait, though it wasn’t crucial the work did get completed right now. Spencer just liked to get things done.

A knock sounded Spencer out of his methodical typing, it wasn’t Garcia, obviously. And he knew Kevin was in a meeting right now with some IT people over his keyboard acting funky (Kevin could fix it by himself, but office administration forced him into talking to IT.)

“Yes?” Spencer asked curiously, turning around in his office chair, because he had no clue who it was that could be interrupting his work. The door pushed open, revealing a tall, classically handsome, muscular man carrying some files in his hands. Fuck, that would be Spencer’s luck. An attractive guy swooping in and making his IQ of one hundred and eighty seven go down to sixty in two second flat

“Hi- you Spencer?” The man asked, stepping forward into the cramped office. Spencer stood up instinctively, “Yes, I am. How can I help you?” The man handed the files over awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I usually ask Penelope Garcia for this but she’s on vacation and she referred me to you- I just need these put through VICAP, I’m not too familiar with the system as a whole, ‘cause Garcia usually handles it.”

Spencer nodded, taking the files and looking through them briefly, there were nine of them. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot of work to do... I’m sure I can figure it out myself-“ Derek started, doing his best to apologize. Little did he know Spencer could get this done within an hour or so.

“Oh no- not a problem at all, this should only take me about an hour, two at most, but that’s a generous estimate.” Derek raised his eyebrows, “An hour or two? Garcia usually finishes up this many files within three or four. How are you able to get this done faster than her?”

“I have an eidetic memory, which helps me recall anything that I read. I can read these files once and put all the information into VICAP knowing it’s accuracy is one hundred percent without having to double check, that cuts down my speed by half per case file.”

Derek looked confused and shocked. Yeah, Spencer could understand why. “Sorry, um. That’s a weird explanation, but it shouldn’t take me as long. I’m assuming you’re out in the bullpen?” Spencer asked him, putting the files down atop his keyboard.

“Yeah, I’m Derek Morgan with the BAU.” Derek finally introduced himself, reaching his hand out. Shit, this was Derek Morgan? Garcia has mentioned him a few times to Spencer, saying he’d love him “oh he’s so handsome, but so sweet and loving, like the hottest man on earth- I’d marry him in a heartbeat, but we don’t roll like that, Y’know?” That’s how she described him once, and of course Spencer remembered that word for word. Spencer felt like it was just his luck, that his only work colleague was best friends with a man so attractive that his mind isn’t working fully.

Not to mention he was in the BAU, Spencer guessed he was, since Garcia was their technical analyst. But still, it would be just his luck to know this insanely attractive man was part of the team he wanted to belong to so bad. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond as he kept his composure. After all, yeah, Derek was attractive. But they probably wouldn’t speak again after this exchange. It wasn’t worth Spencer thinking about him, or how Garcia described him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t shake. But it’s nice to meet you, I’ll find you once I’m done. If you need anymore help, feel free to let me know.” Spencer told him, looking back at the files on his desk as a distraction away from this hot guy that was just standing so calmly in his office, as if Spencer ever had any visitors into the cramped space besides Garcia and Kevin.

By the time spencer looked back up, Derek’s arm was back down by his side. “Okay, thank you.”

~

Derek was surprised by their exchange, to say the least. How did he not know about this genius before? How was he not more well known, a memory thing, three PhD’s- that would be a useful asset? How come he was hidden away in a closet sized office? He had to know more. Even if it was nosy and stupid.

Normally, he’d call Garcia and ask her if it was about an employee. But in this case, he couldn’t. And he couldn’t go to Spencer, that would be weird.

So, he did the next best thing. He asked Hotch.

~

He knocked slowly on Hotchner’s door, hoping he wasn’t going to tell him to mind his business and not ask about employee facts when they definitely were irrelevant.

Derek was smart though, he figured out a foolproof way to play this. So when Hotch said, “Yes?” He came in, starting his plan into motion.

“Hotch, where’s Garcia?” He asked him, as if Derek hadn’t immediately checked up on his babygirl when he couldn’t find her. “Oh,” Hotch started, setting a file down that he had been looking over, “She took some vacation time.”

“So, who am I supposed to go to for computer help?” Derek asked, “Well,” Hotchner started, matter of factly, while he reached for a thin, unopened file on his desk. “We have a new guy helping us. Kevin’s busy with helping the child abduction unit reset their computers, as well as he’s in an IT meeting right now, so we have..” Hotch stopped, looking down to read the name off the file; “Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m sure he’ll be just as good.”

“Hotch. No ones as good as Garcia.” Derek pointed out, Hotch shrugged. “Maybe not. But this guy has a glowing personal history- and Garcia told me she taught him everything he knows.”

“What’s his personal history?” Derek asked curiously, stepping a bit closer but still trying to play nonchalance. “You know I’m not able to disclose that. You can go ask him for yourself.” Derek sighed. Of course Hotch wasn’t gonna tell him shit. He should’ve expected this. But sue him, call him hopeful. He was hoping he could’ve gotten some information on this mysterious doctor.

~

Derek made his defeated way back to his desk in the bullpen. And Emily, whose desk was directly across from his, immediately noticed his slight annoyance at Hotch. So she asked in a hushed voice as soon as he sat down;

“Did you get yelled at by Hotch?” Because in her mind, that was the most logical explanation that made the most sense. Derek just shook his head as a response, “No,” he clarified, “I was asking about our Garcia fill-in, and Hotch wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Garcia fill-in? She’s gone?” Emily asked confusedly looking back to the hallway that led to Penelope’s office, as if she’d magically appear. “Yeah, but just for the week.” Derek explained, “She’s using those vacation days she had saved up. And Kevin isn’t our standby, ‘cause he’s busy. Instead it’s some new guy.”

“Who?” Prentiss asked, this time she was curious. And as if on cue, Dr. Spencer Reid came through the glass doors, and into the bullpen, carrying Morgan’s stack of files.

“Him.” Morgan pointed back simply as a response as he waved Spencer over.

~

To say Spencer felt out of his element by being in the BAU bullpen was an understatement, he felt like a fish out of water. Like he was suffocating and everything around him was too much.

He purposely avoided the bullpen, first reason being because he didn’t have any work with the BAU. But the second reason was he knew if he stepped in, he’d be more upset that he couldn’t be on the team. And the last thing he wanted to do was make his job worse for himself.

But, this experience was an outlier. And though Spencer can remember almost anything and everything, he planned on doing his best to purposely forget all of this. Every last detail.

He wasn’t going to let himself remember how there were field agents with real life guns holstered at their sides, how they were all sitting casually, looking over cases and drinking coffee, how they had the title of SSA (he only had SA, which he still was bitter about.), and then how at a moments notice they could fly away in a jet. How astonishing their work is, how jealous he is.

But Spencer entered through the glass doors nonetheless, looking around quickly before seeing Derek wave him over. Derek was sat at his desk, talking to a woman whose head was turned away from Spencer, all he could see was that she was his desk mate, and that she had black hair.

Spencer made his way over at a brisk pace, he just needed to get in and out. If he stayed for too long, he’d let himself remember to much.

“Hey, I- I got these into VICAP no problem,“ Spencer started as he handed Derek the case files, “But I noticed some errors on the date stamping on when you found the unsub so I corrected it myself, I hope you don’t mind.”

Derek shook his head casually, “Not a problem at all, I have a habit of messing that up. Thanks doc.” Fuck, ‘doc’? Spencer hadn’t been called ‘doctor’ in months, let alone ‘doc’. This was turning into a tailspin moment for him as he smiled awkwardly, feeling a blush rising to his face, he wasn’t sure what else to do. But he wanted to get out of there.

Thankfully, the woman with black hair introduced herself, as once he had rounded the corner to see Derek, he also saw her face. She was pretty, and had bangs. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emily Prentiss.” She reached her hand over to shake Reid’s expectantly, “Oh I-“ Reid started, hands down at his sides, he wasn’t going to move them.

“He doesn’t shake, Prentiss.” Derek explained casually, “Oh,” Emily said, dropping her hand down, “Sorry! It’s still good to meet you, though. So I hear you’re covering for Garcia?” She asked Spencer, who nodded as he pushed a piece of hair back behind his ear.

“Yeah she’s taking vacation time, and Kevin is currently busy with helping the child abduction unit. So I’ll be you technical analyst for the next week or so.”

“I’m sorry, but how long have you been with the bureau? You look really young. I don’t mean to be rude I’m just-“ “You’re really asking him the rudest possible question, though, huh?” Derek joked to her, and she just smacked him on the arm lightly before turning her attention back to Spencer.

“No you’re fine to ask I- um, I’ve been with the bureau a year and a half, but originally I was on the domestic terrorism field unit.” He explained shortly, he didn’t wanna go into how he got on the bureau to begin with, or how he left the domestic terrorism unit. All he wanted to do was have this conversation end, or else it would just be that much harder to forget.

“Domestic terrorism? So how do you end up doing technical analyst work?” Derek butted in curiously, up until now it has been Prentiss asking all the questions.

Spencer stayed quiet for a moment, before finally responding, “If you need anything else, my office is next to Garcia’s. It’s been nice meeting you, Emily.” All he gave to Derek was a curt nod before walking out at the brisk pace he had entered with.

~

“Wow, well you fucked that up.” Prentiss spoke to Derek once she saw Spencer exiting through the glass doors, and turning down the hallway.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her, “I’m just curious about him, can you blame me?” Emily just chuckled softly in return, shaking her head as she turned her chair around to face him more head on.

“Are you curious about him because he’s cute, or because he’s replacing Garcia for the week?” Derek blinked at her in surprise; “I never said he was cute.” He protested, more confused than anything else.

“You didn’t say it, but your body language did. You think he’s cute. You called him ‘doc’ and he almost blushed, and I have a feeling you’re gonna try and call him ‘doc’ again to see that same result- and you watched him the entire time, even if I was talking.”

“You think random bureau agents are cute all the time, what’s it matter?” Derek rebutted, trying to deflect and ignore, because Prentiss wasn’t making sense. Derek wasn’t attracted to Spencer, he didn’t think he was cute. Spencer’s level of attractiveness had nothing to do with his curiosity.

Derek did have a right to be curious for other reasons, anyways. This guy was replacing Garcia for a bit. It made sense Derek would wanna know more about the guy, even if he was or wasn’t attractive.

“Yeah, I find agents cute. But I don’t go asking Hotch about them.” Prentiss said with a smirk, Derek just shot her a glare. “I asked Hotch because he’s replacing Garcia. And I’ve not heard of the guy before.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Was all Emily replied with as she turned back to her work, Derek just rolled his eyes at her again before turning to his own computer.

Okay, so he knew Spencer was in domestic terrorism. It couldn’t hurt to just search it up, right? It wasn’t anything classified, he’d be able to see it, Derek hoped. He wasn’t meaning to be nosy, but he was just so curious and confused. He just had to know more.

———————————————————————

[harmony88]

The Butterfly Effect

Following their trip back to the Torchwood Estate, Rose and the Doctor are piecing together all their clues about the mystery surrounding the mysterious diamonds that drain time. They get sidetracked when Rose starts to worry about giving birth, and they take a birthing class in the 47th century, where they (of course) end up having another problem to solve.

Series: Forever With You Part 2 

Story: The Butterfly Effect 

(excerpt under cut) 

The Doctor and Rose just watched, and the woman stepped off the metal base once it touched the floor and pressed a button she had in her hand, letting it rise back up into the roof. “Welcome, families.”

“Hello,” the others around them said, awestruck, and the woman looked at Rose and the Doctor, smiling at them.

“You two are new,” she said. “I am Astera. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Her purple jumper was made of silk, Rose realized, once the woman stood closer. Her skin was flawless, not even a freckle, and her long silver hair was twisted along her back, and Rose saw a butterfly clip holding it all together. She looked ethereal and wise, and she knelt down in front of Rose, still smiling.

“I’m Rose, this is the Doctor,” she said, and the woman just nodded.

“And how far along are you, Rose?” she asked.

“5 months,” she said.

“May I?” Astera asked, gesturing to Rose’s hand, who nodded. She picked it up carefully and traced her fingers and palm, closing her eyes. “Strong baby...Unusual heartbeat, have you gotten that looked at?”

“It’s a murmur,” the Doctor said, a small alarm going off in his head. He began to subtly look for a sensor of some sort, but Astera moved her hand and he couldn’t see anything. “We’re monitoring it.”

Rose nudged his side just a little, making him bite his cheek.

“Good,” she said. “Is this your first class?”

They both nodded, and Astera took a breath, moving her hand from Rose’s palm to her wrist, holding it firmly.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” one of the women asked the Doctor, but he wasn’t paying attention to them. Rose had stiffened against him as Astera slowly twisted her wrist, and he was watching her carefully.

“You can relax. I apologize. Your pulse is strong, too. That’s good,” she said. “You need that. Home births are a wonderful thing. Centuries ago, many performed them in a tub of water or a bed. We can prepare you for either of those, of course, but nowadays we have our circles here to help guide you, so if you want we can -”

“Oh,I just want to know what to expect when I’m in labor, really,” Rose said. “He’s a doctor, and so...I dunno, I just wanted to take a class. He’s brilliant, and I know that he’ll take care of us, and...but -”

“Rose,” the Doctor said softly, sensing her nerves, and the other two couples stared at the way he was able to comfort her with just a touch, watching as Rose just took a deep breath and pressed her body against his like she belonged there.

Astera noticed too, and she looked at the Doctor and pondered. He stared back at her, his senses still more alert than they probably should be. “What do you practice?”

“Oh...Bit of everything, really,” he said. “How could you feel our baby’s heart?”

“I’m very good at my job,” she assured him with a smile. He looked at Rose who sat up a little straighter, and Astera walked back to the middle of the room. “The balls are Honeycomb Birthing Center’s design, and they do a variety of different things, all with the goal of preparing the body for birth. Let’s start with labor pains. Press the middle of your ball three times. Expectant mothers, keep your hand on the ball until I tell you to release.”

The Doctor wanted to scan it so badly, but Rose shook her head, not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves. She was nervous, and her instincts felt a little jumbled, but she tried to put that aside as the ball began to vibrate and twist, some sort of futuristic technology even the Doctor hadn’t seen before, and suddenly all three pregnant women were screaming, and the Doctor felt all of Rose’s pain in his head.

She put her block up.

“Rose, let go,” he said urgently, about to remove her hand when Astera snapped her fingers.

“Stop,” she said, and Rose dropped the ball. “That was a small contraction. What you might feel at the start of labor.”

“The start?” Rose gasped, and the Doctor grabbed the ball and scanned it, not caring if anyone asked questions.

He glanced up at Astera who was staring at him, and he lowered his sonic screwdriver, “Just wanted to make sure it was safe.”

“Of course it is,” she said, almost sounding offended. “They don’t affect the baby or the mother in any way. It’s all a simulation. Tell me, Doctor, where are you from? You two must be a long way from home. Those accents.”

“London,” he said, smiling politely at her. “Here on business.”

“Of course,” Astera said, the entire exchange dripped in pleasantries. Rose just looked at him.

“Stop, I’m fine,” she whispered, and he clenched his jaw as Astera instructed them to touch the ball again, this time increasing the intensity of the simulation, and Rose realized, as painful as this was, it was a fraction of what she felt on the day she received her regenerations.

That thought gave her comfort.

She seemed to want to continue, so he kept his mouth shut as they repeated it again, and again. Each time Rose felt more pain, and her screams grew longer. She gripped the Doctor’s hand so tightly at one point he thought she might break it, and as he heard the sounds that escaped her throat like nails on a chalkboard and looked at the way the veins in her neck popped out, when he saw how red her face had gotten, he realized that he was entirely unprepared for this as well.

Rose in pain broke him in ways that, in the past, have made him tear through the fabric of the universe to stitch the wounds, and he hated knowing she was doing this to herself when she didn’t need to.

Her body would know what to do. It’s biology.

The other two pregnant mothers were screaming, though they weren’t as loud as Rose, and somewhere in the back of the Doctor’s head he deduced they must have experienced this before, and this was all training their minds to expect the pain.

And suddenly, he felt angry.

He closed his eyes, trying not to let Rose’s screams get to him, knowing they’d be over soon and they weren’t real. Except they were, and she was in pain, and he felt a storm bubble inside of him he was desperately trying not to act on, not wanting to be that man, who tells a room of women what they should and shouldn’t do with their bodies, but all he could think about was how masochistic this felt.

He watched Rose, then Astera very carefully, and he looked down at the ball.

The simulation stopped and he took it immediately, looking it over as his wife caught her breath.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, and she nodded. It didn’t make him feel better, and he was about to scan her when Astera snapped her fingers, and all the balls raised into the air and spun, and they broke apart a little, becoming small robot babies.

“We’re done with that portion, well done, mothers,” she said, and she snapped again. The babies lowered into the arms of each pregnant woman, and Astera’s eyes locked with the Doctor’s as he sniffed and clenched his jaw.

He looked at Rose, who looked like she was about to be sick.

“That…” she whispered, but it was all she could say. He lifted his sonic screwdriver but she placed a hand on his arm and let out a shaky breath, and then looked down at the robot doll that was resting in her arms. “That was all in my head.”

“Yes,” Astera said, “Your baby, your cervix, your uterus, your birthing canal, all if it was entirely untouched and safe. And labor pains, when you actually are in the midst of it, might be slightly more...defined, but that’s the closest we can get with a mental stimulation. It’s all to prepare you.”

Astera was explaining why Honeycomb Birthing Center uses these practices, but Rose couldn’t focus. Her instincts, which had been hard to read, were wide awake now, and the Doctor recognized the look in her eye. He breathed out a sigh of relief, realizing he wasn’t the only one who found something off about all of this, and she nudged her mind to him.

Can I scan you, please?

I’m fine. But she’s hiding something. That was...invasive.

What do you mean?

I mean...I don’t know. But let’s just play along and see, yeah?

He looked at her and he could tell she was feeling alright, so he let out a breath and looked back at Astera, who guided them through another exercise with the robot babies. Since it was a home birth class, and a lot of her instructions were what to do in the moments after the baby was born. The Doctor already knew it all, and he was relieved when Astera wasn’t giving out any harmful or incorrect advice, and he worked with Rose, winking a little at her as he caught the robot from between her legs and took care of it in all the proper ways, and Astera just smiled at him.

“She did say you were a doctor,” she hummed. “Well done.”

[geekgirles]

Orange and Peppermint

After breaking up with Adrien for his lies, Kagami is in need of someone she can trust to confide her feelings in. She needs a friend who understands what she's going through; she needs Marinette.

As the café’s doorbell rang above her head when she opened the door, Marinette had a million thoughts running frantically through her mind. Why did Kagami call her to meet up? And why did she sound so dejected? And why talking to her instead of Adrien? Did something happen?

Marinette scoffed at herself. Of course something happened. Just the other day she got akumatised into Lies! It was obvious that something bad must have happened for her to become an akuma’s target. But the true question was, why talking to her about it?

Sure, they were friends. Once she got to know the fencer, Marinette realised how nice and kind Kagami truly was. They hung out and had fun, but still, she was no Adrien! Kagami herself said that, while she valued their friendship, Adrien came first.

Well, she didn’t exactly say that... And Marinette couldn’t really blame her... But it still didn’t make sense that she would want to confide in her instead of the person she was closest to. There was something really strange about all this.

Strange or not, Kagami needed her help, and she was going to be there for her. She still couldn’t believe how lucky she’d been. The moment Longg found out his former wielder needed help, he took charge of the situation and got every kwami to behave just so she could go and talk to Kagami. If only she’d been as lucky while she was still dating Luka...

Feeling her eyes watering, Marinette shook her head determinedly. As much as it pained her not being able to have a normal relationship with a guy as great as Luka, it would have all been very stressful and unfair to him unless Shadow Moth backed down. And he would never back down until he was defeated.

Sighing loudly, Marinette looked around the establishment. It was the same café where she and Kagami had celebrated the former’s birthday. An elegant but very affordable café near the school. In fact, Kagami managed to go instead of being sent directly back home thanks to it being close to it, and therefore, her fencing classes. Adrien couldn’t make it since he had a photoshoot, but the girls had a great time nonetheless.

Squinting her eyes looking for her friend, Marinette made out Kagami waving her hand in the air to help her locate her. She was seated near the wall, on the other end of the room and nursing some orange juice. Waving her hand in return and smiling softly, Marinette made her way to where Kagami was.

“Hey, Kagami.” She greeted as she moved away the chair before sitting on it and getting closer to the table. “How you’ve been? Did anything interesting happen in fencing class?” Marinette knew she was making small talk, but she didn’t know how to approach the subject. For all she knew, maybe Kagami just wanted to spend some time with a friend.

The fencer smiled at her, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hello, Marinette. You could say it did...”

That took Marinette slightly by surprise. Straightening up a little, she was about to ask what she meant when the waiter came, asking for her order. “Oh! Uh...um...I’ll have what she’s having.” The waiter wrote it down and with that he went back the way he came from. With him gone, the pigtailed girl tried again. “So, fencing class. What happened? Did Monsieur D’Argencour make a mistake and give the point of the match to someone else?”

Kagami chuckled slightly at that. “No, for once he was being accurate when announcing the results of the matches.” She averted her gaze to the floor. “He actually also stopped a fight. Or rather, he stopped a match from turning into a nasty fight.”

Marinette could only look at her with bulging eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I almost attacked Adrien during the match out of anger.” She confessed. Seeing her friend’s horrified expression, she hurried to assure her. “Don’t worry, Marinette. As I said, Monsieur D’Argencour managed to stop me before I could do something I’d regret.”

Marinette was ever so thankful her juice hadn’t arrived yet, otherwise she would have either choked on it or spilt it all over the place. This didn’t make any sense, though. She knew Kagami had a strong temper, but she would never try to hurt Adrien! Except for when she was akumatised into Riposte... But other than that, never! Then why would she take her anger out on him like that? For all the questions running through her mind, Marinette could only settle for one. “Why would you do that?”

Placing her hands on her lap, her head low in embarrassment, the Japanese girl could only grit her teeth and be honest. After all, weren’t lies the true responsible behind all her hurt? “I was mad at him for lying to me.”

Taking a gulp from her glass of orange juice that had just been served, Marinette gulped loudly. That was not the answer she expected to hear at all. “Adrien? Lying to you? Are you sure?” She didn’t want to doubt her friend, but the reason she loved Adrien so much was precisely his honesty, so hearing he had lied to Kagami was completely surreal to her.

“Positive.” Kagami nodded. “These past few weeks he’s been lying to me nonstop. Every time we had a date, he would disappear not long after arriving. He always gave me some poor excuse, like his father needing him or something like that. In the end, we barely spent any time together.”

“But why would he lie about his father needing him? I mean, Gabriel Agreste is a very busy man and he’s constantly monitoring Adrien’s already packed schedule.”

“Because if his father truly needed him that urgently, he wouldn’t allow Adrien to go see me in the first place.”

Marinette couldn’t argue against that logic.

Rubbing her face with her hands, Kagami sighed loudly. “But the last straw was the other day, when we were supposed to attend Prince Ali’s birthday party. After we left the Couffaine’s boat the lucky charm you made for him fell out of his pocket.

“I picked it up. As soon as we arrived at the city hall, Adrien left, seeing he’d lost something. I held onto the lucky charm and waited for him. And hour or so later he came back, saying he’d finally found what he’d lost. When I asked him what it was he said it was your lucky charm, and it was then he realised he didn’t have it with him. So I revealed to him I had it all along, and that I knew he was lying to me.”

Marinette could feel her insides churn. She couldn’t believe her little lucky charm could bring so much trouble. It was more of an unlucky charm! “What did you do next?”

“I told him the truth.” Kagami said. “I told him I had lied too, many times. But unlike him, I always lied to spend more time together. All he ever did was lie to get away from me.” Her voice had taken on a shaky note as she spoke. “But he still refused to tell me the truth. After that I entered the city hall, alone, and I...I got akumatised.”

Marinette’s eyes were as wide as saucers. So that was why Lies’ akumatised object was her lucky charm. But this whole thing was very weird. Why would Adrien ever need to lie to Kagami? Or about having lost her lucky charm and going to find it? What was it that he couldn’t tell Kagami? But most importantly, “Why are you telling me this?”

“So you’re careful if you two ever end up together.” She told her with steely eyes.

“W-what!? M-me and A-Adrien?” Trying to act nonchalant, she scoffed at the idea while waving it off with a movement of her hand. “D-don’t be silly! Why...why would I want to date Adrien?” She finished her little rant with an awkward, unconvincing laugh.

“Because you’ve been in love with him for longer.” The Japanese girl answered, her expression unchanged.

Marinette yelped at her bluntness. She was never going to get used to it, it seemed. “Look, Marinette. Right now I’m too hurt to even see Adrien, but I know you care about him. So I’m telling you this so you don’t go through the same pain as I am going through. Whatever it is, Adrien has a secret he will lie to everyone about in order to keep it hidden.”

The pigtailed girl frowned in empathy for Kagami’s sadness. “But why are you saying that? I mean, he is your boyfriend...” She said as she took a gulp from her orange juice, Kagami’s laying forgotten by her side.

“I broke up with him after fencing class.”

And, she spilt her juice all over the place. She totally didn’t see that one coming. “What?!” Marinette screeched in disbelief. Noticing heads turning in their direction, she blushed and coughed slightly before asking in a more subdued voice. “Did you seriously break up with him?”

“Yes.” The fencer replied. “I already told you, he kept lying to me. I can’t be with a person who won’t be honest with me, especially not if he lies to get away from me when all I want is to be closer to him. His hesitation has always hurt me, but this is a new level of pain.” She looked Marinette in the eye, her gaze intense and full of emotion. “I need somebody I can trust; that’s what my mother has always taught me, and if Adrien can’t be that person...” She huffed in annoyance. “Then it is best I let him go.”

“And you’re telling me all this because you trust me?” She...didn’t know what to say to that.

Kagami nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Not only are you my friend, Marinette, you are the only person who understands how difficult it can be to love Adrien.”

Her eyes widening at her friend’s words, Marinette could only cast her eyes down and slump against her chair at the truth in that statement. As much as she loved Adrien, nobody knew how emotionally exhausting it could be. She loved the girls and was thankful for them trying to help her get closer to him, but they had no idea how painful it was when it all failed. They didn’t know what it was like to be living in a completely different world from him. How frustrating it was to see literal pests getting closer to him while she was stuck being his friend. They had no idea what it was to have the universe plotting against her to ruin her chances at confessing to him.

They didn’t know the first thing of how tiring it really was.

But, apparently, Kagami did.

“Out of all the girls that are interested in Adrien, I was actually jealous of you the most.” Marinette confessed with a shy smile.

Kagami gasped at her words. “You...you were jealous of me?”

“Oh, yes.” The pigtailed girl let out a small laugh. “I mean, Chloé and Lila are too much of a pain for Adrien to show any interest in them, that I know. But you? You are pretty, and an awesome fencer, and so similar to him, and he’s always been very comfortable around you. Compared to you, what chances do I have?”

Her head shot up when she felt a warm presence over her hand. Looking at it, she realised it was Kagami. She’d put her own hand on top of hers and was looking at her with a mixture of mirth and sadness in her eyes. “More than you think.”

“I’ve often found myself jealous of you as well, Marinette. Despite everything you said, Adrien always seemed to harbour a special fondness for you. And you’ve known him for longer, so it was a bit of a painful reminder of the life he has outside of me.” The fencer confessed.

Now the blue-eyed girl was just incredulous. “A special fondness, for me? I find that hard to believe. I mean, sure, we’re friends, but that’s all there is‒.”

“I’ve always felt there was much more than just that, mind you.” Kagami cut her off. “After Ladybug and Chat Noir saved me when I was turned into Riposte I got to clear things up with Adrien. He had nothing but praise and kind words for you, he always speaks of you fondly.” Resting her head against her fist, she appraised her companion with an amused smirk on her face. “And do I have to remind you he ditched me twice on our “first date” to check up on you?”

Marinette gasped at that, appalled. “Oh my Gosh, I am so sorry for that, Kagami! I never meant to!”

“Relax, Marinette. I know that. I’m just saying Adrien feels something very powerful for you, even if he refuses to see it.” She rolled her eyes at that.

Marinette couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heating up a little. Could it be? Did Adrien really feel something for her?

A comfortable silence settled between them. Even if the atmosphere wasn’t awkward, Marinette wanted to say something to keep the conversation going, but she didn’t know what. Looking over at Kagami, she was staring at her glass of orange juice as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, a sad smile on her lips.

When the fencer spoke up, Marinette jumped in surprise. “You know? After André said Adrien and I were like an orange and peppermint ice cream when he sneaked out of the Bourgeois’ anniversary party, I started adding a little bit of peppermint to everything I had that had oranges in it.”

“How did it taste?”

“Terrible!” Kagami chuckled heartedly before sighing wistfully. “Maybe it was a sign that we were never really meant to be after all...”

Seeing Kagami so dejected didn’t sit well with Marinette. She’d grown used to the strong, confident fencer who never took any crap from anyone, so seeing her so sad now... Determination running through her veins, Marinette took the menu with the most enthusiasm anyone had ever taken a menu with. “Do you want to try their chocolate croissants? It won’t be the end of the world if I eat food that isn’t from my parents’ bakery just once.”

Taken aback by the abrupt change of topic, Kagami soon figured out what the blue-eyed girl was trying to do. She could only smile warmly at her friend in return.

.........

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly. Once Kagami had opened up about her break up with Adrien they spent the remaining time talking about everything and nothing over some tasty treats. Tasty, but not mouth-watering. That was an adjective she reserved only for her parents’ bakery.

Waving Kagami goodbye as she got into her car, Marinette was left alone with her thoughts. So she wasn’t the only one who felt threatened over the presence of another girl in Adrien’s life. Moreover, Adrien actually seemed to have a soft spot for her. Any other day she would’ve leapt with joy, but now she had more pressing matters to tend to.

In a way, Kagami was right. Nobody other than them understood how painful caring for Adrien could be. Though she never even fathomed the idea of stop caring for Adrien, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished he could just be another good friend to her, and not the boy she had been pining for ever since that fateful storm. Loving Adrien required a strong heart and lots of patience; his life was so hectic and busy that only someone who didn’t take things personally or wasn’t disappointed easily would be able to keep up with it.

Loving Adrien was extremely demanding, and it wasn’t even his fault! If she already had a hard time before, how would she manage now that she was the Guardian?

She knew the answer to that. She wouldn’t manage. Her duties had already cost her a relationship with someone as sweet, talented, and incredible as Luka, they would surely cost her Adrien, too. It was best to let him go.

But after talking to Kagami about their own relationship, there was still something she would like to know: what could Adrien possibly be hiding?

[hisunshiine]

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 1

✈︎ chapter 1: dear lucky ARMY...   | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature

   ✈︎ genre: none this chapter future smut, fluff, angst

    ✈︎ word count: 1,143 words

    ✈︎ pairing: none this chapter

    ✈︎ warnings: none this chapter

 ✈︎ summary: It was a running joke within the fandom that you all should just buy an island, move there, and have Namjoon be the president. That is, it 𝘸𝘢𝘴 a running joke, until one day on Twitter, it all came to a head. When the GoFundMe receives enough money and instructions to purchase said island, what choice is there to make but to do it?

✈︎ a/n: hi! this story is near and dear to me and @mrsparkjimin18​′s heart! we started this story last year to help cope with covid-19 for both us and our friends who are readers! we hope that we can do the same for you and provide an escape. the first 2 chapters are short and start off slow, but i promise it picks up chapter 3 with our first pairing and some smut and then it doesn’t stop. lol

   | series masterlist | next chapter | hisunshiine | mrsparkjimin18 |

It has been a few weeks since you and the girls came up with the idea to start a GoFundMe, and donations have been flowing in. You receive a message from Vanessa, saying it’s urgent and to call her immediately.

“Nessa, what’s going on? What is so urgent?” You ask. You can hear her rapidly clicking the keys on her keyboard.

“Have you checked our GoFundMe today?” she asks. You wonder why she is asking, feeling nervous at the tone in her voice.

“No, have we reached our goal of twenty thousand dollars?! That would be amazing and it has only been--”

She cuts you off.

“Girl… no… w-we, I mean somebody, an anonymous donor donated an extremely generous amount, just check the account. I have to make sure I am not losing my mind.”

You open your laptop and pull up the account, when you see the donation you drop your phone and scream.

“Is this real?!?! I-I….WE ARE GOING TO BUY AN ISLAND!!!!!!” You remember that Vanessa is still on the phone.

“Hello?! Y/N!!!! What the hell? So I’m not crazy?!” She is just as excited as you are.

“No, you’re not...the donor also put a note of a few islands we could purchase. Well, what do you want to do?”

Vanessa answers quickly.

“We need to start looking into this donor's suggestions, like now.” You both agree to let the other admins of the page look into the islands and you will have to decide by tomorrow.

After researching all night, everybody has agreed to purchase a Caribbean Island: Long Caye, Belize. The island already has standing properties, enough for a decent amount of people to live in for starters, so there wasn’t any work that needed to be done right away. 

Since everyone had come to an agreement on which island to choose, Vanessa  reached out to the donor, notifying them that you all were thankful to them for not only their donation, but also their list of islands, as it made it easier for you all to make a choice. After a few days, of which you were growing more and more nervous, the donor finally messaged back and disclosed that they were willing to pay for a charter plane to transport 14 lucky people to the island. 

Of course the seven of you will all be going, since you were the ones who came up with the idea. Vanessa suggested a Twitter Giveaway, with 7 lucky winners to come live on Bangtania Island. The giveaway contest will run for two weeks, and then upon it’s closing, the 7 winners will be chosen and then announced two weeks after. This would give you all enough time to go through the entries and select the 7 lucky people who would join your group of seven and fly to your newly acquired island, Bangtania.

The amount of people who entered the giveaway was insane. Of course there were those who didn’t believe that such a thing was real, but Vanessa posted the proof of the purchase on the giveaway account page, along with a video made with you and the 6 other girls, and now it was almost draining watching the notifications rack up. Daily you each took turns monitoring entries and adding the names to the raffle, cross checking entries with the word document to make sure there weren’t double entries from the same page. 

You couldn’t wait till it was over, having already packed up your stuff as soon as you had seen the donations on GoFundMe had exceeded the amount needed; you just wanted to be done with all the bullshit and go live on your own island with other ARMY that you had made friends with on Twitter.

Sitting on the plane, 13 girls surrounding you laughing and drinking the complimentary champagne on board, you read over the email that everyone had received a few days before departure.

Hey guys, the donor sent this email to me and asked me to forward it to you all!

Dear lucky ARMY,

Congratulations on being one of the 14 to kick off this new venture. I ran across your GoFundMe while looking for worthwhile groups to donate to, and I saw what you had written about everything your fandom has gone through, and how you needed an escape. In these trying times, I can understand that need, and I hope that my donation was able to help you with your goal so that you will enjoy living on the island. We may not know each other, but I was so moved by your passion for your favorite group, that I have decided to continue to help you all out. The charity I have extended doesn’t just end at the plane, as I have decided to continue to donate to help your small island nation thrive, as it is a very good tax write off for me. Since you have no source of income from the island just yet, I will be helping send shipments to the island of what you need. It would be best to appoint someone to be in charge of things, like keeping track of food, water, toiletries, etc. so that you can stay stocked up for everyone. I will be sending a delivery to arrive before you get there of some basics that will help with getting started. You will find it in the main house. I trust Miss Vanessa has received the key to get everyone situated upon your arrival. I have already sent someone to set up the water and electricity, as well as internet access. Once there it will be prudent that you set up some type of form of government, unfortunately a country cannot function without one, but with so few people, this should not be difficult. Trust one another, and as your favorite boys say, love yourself, and love each other, and enjoy.

The rest of the email provided the addresses of the different buildings on the island, like the main house, the empty building that could be seen as a sort of town hall, and the convenient little storefronts off the very small port area for docking boats. 

The storefronts were not actively in use, and one shop was an open room that was full of mailboxes for deliveries, and each of you was given your own for post, which was nice. You were all able to share your address with friends and family before leaving, instructing them with how to send you care packages and letters.  

You looked up from your phone as you could hear a rather loud chorus of laughter; Talia had said something funny and Vanessa was hunched over wiping away tears from laughing so hard. Everyone on board was in good spirits, you couldn’t imagine it getting any better than this.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine & mrsparkjimin18 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[fallenfurther]

Homecoming - A social call

Chapter 3 - Jeff and Colonel Casey

Continuing with Jeff's recovery and relationships with the main characters in TAG. Sorry this one is a little later out than I planned. A flat move and no internet means I had to wait until I had time to sit in a coffee shop.

Chapters 1 and 2.

Enjoy!

***********

Colonel Casey signed herself into the rehabilitation centre for her first personal visit. She'd seen Jeff for official business, the GDF helping to re-establish the astronaut's living status as well as for the obligatory debriefs. The interviews had happened in one of the rehabilitation rooms here. The debrief of his eight years in space had taken a couple of days to complete as they had been required to work around his routine and energy levels. It had been a shock to see the astronaut so tired and struggling, but it was to be expected. She knew Jeff was on a strict routine and diet plan to help him with his nutritional deficiencies and regain lost muscle, though what it entailed she wasn't privy to. She'd wanted to visit earlier, but her position in the GDF meant she had been tied down with paperwork. Now she could finally sit down with her old friend and catch up properly. Heading down the corridor, she found his room and knocked. A short sharp military rap.

"Come in."

The voice was faint, but oh so familiar. She opened the door and peered in, excitement building inside her chest.

"I thought it was about time I paid the great space survivalist a visit."

A grin spread across Jeff's face as he pushed himself out of his chair. She crossed the room in a few strides and hugged the man. He embraced her back, though she didn't fail to notice how weak his arms were compared to the bear hugs she remembered. Her own arms had been reserved so as not to crush his delicate body. The positive was that he seemed stronger than he was when they'd first met which was pleasing, and she hadn't missed how her friend was much steadier on his feet. The need to pinch herself was still present. Seeing that footage and message had been hard, having already accepted the man's fate and moved on. The world would just have to adjust to having Jeff Tracy back.

"It's been too long." The man whispered in her ear, his deep baritones warming her soul in a way only a long lost friend could.

"It's only been two months."

"That was official business. Your lack of uniform tells me this is the social visit I've been waiting for."

Jeff was right and the smile on his face said he knew it. He'd always been this way, so sure of himself. It was what had gotten him so far, and probably why he was still here now. The confident stubborn man. Memories of days gone by, from when Jeff had first started putting International Rescue into motion, flooded her mind. She'd been present at that first meeting when Jeff had asked for clearance for his new venture. Valerie had been a newly appointed Captain, and it was one of her first major meetings. That was the day she'd heard about International Rescue and it had been incredible to see the legendary astronaut stand up and ask for permission to start the organisation. She'd hid her unease and suspicions and had viewed the plans he'd presented in the meeting. The secrecy aspect of the organisation had worried her most, not knowing exactly what was going to be flying around, not knowing who was involved or the training they would be put through. The committee had debated it thoroughly. Five weeks of research, consultations and consideration and International Rescue was given a three month trial, to be extended upon review.

"You won't regret this."

Jeff had promised Colonel Henson when he had been told the news. She'd been present to see the historic moment. The firm handshake that had happened at the end of the meeting as if to solidify and seal the deal. He'd been right. International Rescue had not disappointed and had gone beyond anyone's expectations. They were granted permission to operate. There were still some in the GDF that disagreed with the amount of secrecy surrounding International Rescue and the lack of regulation and control the GDF had over the organisation. Some of that had eased slightly now the location of Tracy Island was now known to the higher-ups, but there were still those that were suspicious. Rumours still passed around, claiming the GDF had a dummy location, that it was all a ruse to make everyone feel comfortable with the situation and they were keeping the Thunderbirds and their secrets elsewhere. There were just some things she couldn't stop. She had been put in charge of monitoring International Rescue. Once introduced, Jeff had maintained contact with her allowing them to develop a strong working relationship, which ultimately led to a close friendship. Though he had always visited her, she'd gotten to know some of the boys before the accident, though now she knew them all extremely well. The boys had allowed more information about International Rescue to be made public, and shared further information still with the GDF, allowing for better communication between the organisations. It felt much better knowing exactly where they were, even if she had no idea what secrets they hid on the island. Scott had blessed her with a tour, allowing her to see what they were happy to share. Seeing it all in-situ had been a sight to behold and something she'd never forget.

"Sorry it's been that way, but you know how it is at the top. There is always a new situation that needs your urgent attention."

Jeff chuckled, a sound that Valerie had forgotten and almost brought a tear to her eye. It pained her how small things about a person could slip from your mind over the years. The man before her really was legendary. He was an astronaut people would talk about for years to come. He was also a great friend, who had always supported her journey through the GDF ranks.

"I used to know. I'm a little rusty and many things have changed. I've got a lot of catching up to do. I thought some of the technology Brains used to think up was way out there, but some of the new gadgets I'm seeing and hearing about are beyond that. I'm feeling old. Old and left behind."

Valerie noticed the change in his face and the slight dimming of the shine in those blue eyes. Jeff was old, but there was more to this than that. Placing a hand on the man's shoulder she guided him back into his chair and knelt beside him.

"I'm feeling old at the moment." Jeff continued with a sigh. "I'm all creaky, tired and struggling to keep up. They say I should get better, that my body has adjusted to the Oort cloud and that it'll take a while to shift back."

"You were never the most patient man."

That brought a smile to his face, but his head fell into his hand.

"I've spent so much time alone that I can't stand being cooped up in here anymore! The boys and Mum visit but I have less freedom than I did out there. I want to go home. Even if it means subjecting myself to both my mother's constant doctoring, and her terrible cooking."

"Maybe the staff are trying to make sure you're strong enough to stomach your mother's food?"

"Ha! I wish! Nothing on Earth could prepare me for Mum's cooking. I am handling food well though and if I'm honest, Mum won't mess up my diet plan. She knows how much it could set me back."

Valerie moved her hand in slow steady motions over Jeff's back. There was nothing she could do to change the situation, but she knew Jeff needed to let it out. She knew he was putting on a brave face for his family, that only the staff and therapists would know of the real internal struggle happening in the man. Jeff had told her enough about his life and the boys to know he'd do anything to protect his family. Maybe, eventually, he let them be the ones to protect him.

"You'll get there, Jeff. You just need time."

The man sighed, his whole body deflating. He'd had plenty of time in the Oort cloud, far away from everything he cared about. Now he was home, he was still being kept away. She knew the boys were visiting Jeff but it wasn't the same as being home with them. Especially with International Rescue taking them away so frequently. Valerie still got a weekly update on International Rescue’s activity, and although she doesn't read the full reports anymore, she still understood the operation enough to know the toll that it takes on the operatives.

"How has it been, the last eight years, for International Rescue? What's it been like from an outside perspective? Has it worked? Have there been problems? Have you any suggestions?"

Valerie sat back and surveyed her friend. Talk about going straight for the tough topics. She knew he'd ask about her later, but right now his boys were at the front of his mind. She also knew she had to be honest. There was so much Valerie wanted to tell the man, yet today wasn't the right day. Today would just lead the man to worry unnecessarily about his boys. When he was stronger and could enforce change himself, she might raise the latest annual International Rescue report with him. The GDF were concerned, but now was not the time to go down the official route.

"It was tough at first, not everyone liked Scott taking over everything at once, especially as he took on Tracy Industries too. But they rose to the challenge and got the job done, they've made improvements and they communicate more with the GDF now. We still don't know everything about your technology but that was always the arrangement from the get go."

Jeff sighed. "I never expected them to be needed as much as they are. Have you noticed how exhausted they are? Do you know when they last went on holiday? I think it's too much for them."

Valerie steeled herself, knowing exactly how she felt and how much the Tracy brothers would disagree. Everyone knew those boys worked too hard, but they were smart and never broke the flight hour rules, often maxing it out but never going over. The GDF couldn't ground them, even if it was for their own good, especially as there was often no-one else to do the job. Lives were at stake and no-one wanted to be the one to make that call.

"I have noticed the dark circles under Scott's eyes and the way he seems to carry the world on his shoulders. I don't often see the rest of them but the past few years have been pretty intense. I would say they were due a break, if only the world would give them one."

The small smile on Jeff's face showed her she had said the right thing. The concern was still there but the steel in his eyes said he had a plan formulating. She wouldn't pry. Not yet. She was sure she would find out in due course.

"So, you're a Colonel now, and Commander of the GDF. Can't say I didn't see that coming, but there must be a story behind it."

Valerie grinned at her friend, finally on a safer topic. This was what she'd come here for.

"Well, there is, but it's not quite as interesting as yours."

[crazymisscarly]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Chapter 7 of I’ll Never Stop Loving You

(Coming soon to a fanfic site near you hahaha)

Betty watched him reach for the gun holster on his hip. She lifted one hand up as she pulled her cap off with the other. She barely heard him mouthing the words: Betty? What the hell? before she stepped even closer to him.

“Is your phone with you?” She yelled over the ear-piercing sound.

“My what?” He practically shouted.

“Your phone?” She called louder, and took another step towards him. “Is it with you?”

She couldn’t hear his response, but he shook his head and gave her a quizzical look as he finally pulled his keys out and silenced the alarm.

“Jones, what on Earth is going on?” He asked sternly. He eyed her with suspicion as she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lincoln, I need to talk to you.” Betty said seriously.

Director Lincoln stuffed his keys back into his pocket. “And you couldn’t have waited until you’re back at work? Or called me? You had to set off my car’s alarm and corner me in the basement like a psychopath?”

“Yes.” Betty said urgently, and some of Lincoln’s visible annoyance disappeared as his eyebrows rose.

Lincoln crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright. What happened?”

Betty swallowed and lowered her voice. “I think we have a leak.” She admitted, and shoved her hands back in her jacket’s pockets. “I couldn’t talk to you at work because I’m not convinced someone isn’t monitoring our office. Or our computers. Or our phones.” She pursed her lips. “Or your apartment, for that matter. We should probably search for monitoring devices.”

Betty half expected him to disagree with her. Instead, his face paled slightly as he nodded and lowered his voice to match her own. “Okay… okay, alright. Where did you get this idea?”

“Vern. The guy from Seaside we arrested for the attack on Sally Wallis.”

His eyebrows raised. “You got him to talk?”

She shook her head. “No. He’s not going to crack. But he did say something that made me start thinking—”

Lincoln cut her off with his hand. “No, not here.” He whispered. “I don’t know how much audio dash cams can pick up… but most of these cars belong to other FBI Agents. We have to be careful.”

Betty nodded. “Okay. Do you want to go somewhere to talk? Or should we do a sweep of your apartment first?”

Lincoln looked, for a moment, uneasy. He shifted nervously on his feet, and suddenly a faint blush washed over his cheeks. “Ahh… actually, I have company over…”

Betty tried not to look surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, I can come back later, but this is kind of urgent—”

“No, no, it’s fine…” His cheeks were reddening into a deeper crimson, but before he could say anything else, the elevator doors slid open again.

Betty almost looked away and clutched the cap in her hands, ready to shove it back on her head… but then she recognised the face of the tall, blonde and chiseled man who was exiting the elevator with a concerned look on his face.

“Do you know what set it — Betty?” Charles said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Betty raised her eyebrows. “I could ask you the same question.” She said, then a smirk slid onto her lips as she looked at the bashful form of Director Lincoln. “But I think I already know the answer.”

[lepus-arcticus]

50.

Life, she’s always been taught, begins at the moment of conception. 

It begins, then, at some undetermined hour; on some dappled afternoon on the floor of her living room, her legs twisted tight around Mulder’s narrow, urgent hips. Or it begins on his couch, her sweat-damp back slick against the scarred leather, traces of brewer’s yeast and buttered popcorn lingering on his tongue. A boozy night in the generative lather of the sea. An after-hours liaison in one of the cramped Hoover laboratory bathrooms. A stripped motel queen-size, her bliss-bright eyes shining back at her from the mirror above the dresser. But life does not begin at conception. It begins years and years ago, in an office underground. It begins with his hot palm meeting hers in a lazy handshake, his sylvan gaze tempting her down into the underworld. It begins with Quantico, with Stanford and UMD, with a textbook on the beach, a rabbit’s maggoty corpse, a B.B. pellet in the shredded neck of a garter snake. 

Life begins before life, in the dark, secret world of her own mother’s womb. The female fetus, at 20 weeks gestation, already carries a million ova; ova that her body whittles down to 300,000 specimens by the time she reaches biological maturity. Even then, the body only offers up roughly 400 of these ova for fertilization during the body’s reproductive career, sacrificing a handful of failed follicles at every full moon, only presenting one or two perfect beads of potential, primed for transcendence, awaiting the wriggling violence of one similarly tenacious and unlikely spermatozoon.

It is a survivor, this little life. It has escaped the unearthly harvest; it has slipped through the procreative gauntlet. It has been activated by the only person remotely capable of such a thing, gifted a spirit, invited quietly into the endless spiral dance. 

Mulder—

-

Scully fights her way up through the terror, jolting awake with a gasp. 

Stiff hospital bed beneath her, monitors sedately beeping, sweat dampening her collar. Her heart hammering, her stomach sour. His screams echoing through the pathways of her nerves. 

She recalls so little—it was all light, just a scorching, fulgent light that stirred and fluttered, trying to make figures and faces before melting back into itself over and over. What remains is how she felt when they returned her; gravely violated, afflicted with a bizarre and foreign emptiness, as though she’d been turned inside out and back again, clumsily stitched back into something only slightly resembling the body she used to inhabit. 

But God, surely they’d keep him unconscious, surely, please God, at least let him be unconscious—

And why did she play with him like that, why did she tease him so relentlessly, why did she need to hear him say it so many goddamned times, what was she thinking—

And maybe he wouldn’t have gone if she’d just—

She swallows the rising lump in her throat, trying to calm herself, because this is not the right time, because panic is not productive, because she remembers a pregnant Tara telling her that stress is bad for the baby—the baby, my God—

Slowly, she slips a trembling hand over the flat plane of her belly, a callous from handling her gun catching on the thin hospital robe. She tries to feel something, anything, reaching out desperately to any part of herself that might be able to sense the surreal phenomenon taking place within her, any sliver of herself that knows, like any good mother should, that she is not alone. 

The blood test has confirmed it. She has the science to back it up. She has done her due diligence, scheduling a dating ultrasound with the help of a bubbly nurse, sending a restless Skinner to the pharmacy for prenatal vitamins and cocoa butter. 

But evidence is not enough. For the first time in her life, hard evidence is simply not enough. 

Mulder—

-

Strangers in their office, frenzied as vultures at the kill. Kersh stern and sneering. It is the sickening indignity of Melissa’s sham of a murder investigation all over again—these men don’t want the truth, and they never have. They don’t care if they find him. They don’t respect his work, don’t know his heart, can’t even begin to comprehend the beauty or importance of his radical curiosity. Mulder is, to these people, an anecdote to relay at the Fourth of July block party. He’s a joke. 

It’s no wonder the man they chose to head the task force isn’t even a good enough agent to tell a convincing lie. As if Mulder even had the time to sleep around, not to mention the inclination—Mulder, who alone had stolen her back from forces unknown in Antarctica. Mulder, who picked up her dry cleaning and her mail, who’d borrowed and scrawled notes in half the books in her bookshelf. Mulder, who was so obsessed with eating her out that she often had to yank him off by the hair. 

Mulder, who’d been asking her to marry him since 1998. 

Mulder. 

-

The room is dark, the gel is cold, the ultrasound tech blessedly sedate and straightforward. Scully watches as the image on the screen between them refines itself with every exploratory glide of the wand over her skin, becoming clearer as the tech zeroes in on her uterus and taps at the keyboard, adjusting the picture with tidy, sure movements. 

“Placenta,” the woman murmurs in affirmation, as if to herself. Scully watches the static, colourless landscape carefully, closely, her breath suspended. 

“And… here... is the fetus.”

A bright smudge floats in a pool of dark night. Indistinct, amorphous, curled in on itself. But one thing is unmistakable: in its center, there is a rhythmic, flickering heartbeat. The scientist within her marvels. The wife within her mourns. 

“And you can’t confirm the date of your last period, correct?” 

“No,” she breathes, blinking back tears, unable to look away from the soundscape effigy displayed on the screen. “I mean, yes. I mean... it’s, uh, it’s been a little erratic since… I’m a cancer survivor, it’s been… my cycle's been unpredictable for some years.” Scully explains, feeling a small twinge of shame, as though she’s a teenager who’s been deeply irresponsible in her boyfriend’s back seat on homecoming night. 

The tech nods, expressionless. She silently takes a few measurements, typing cryptic notes in rapid succession, leaving Scully to grapple with a myriad of emotions she assumed she’d never have the occasion to experience. “Well, Ms. Scully,” the tech says. “I don’t like to leave my patients in the dark—I’d like to assure you that everything is looking perfectly normal. I’ll just slip out and have the doctor look over these to confirm, but to my estimation, it looks like you’re about nine weeks along. We’re all done—feel free to clean yourself up, dispose of the napkin in this bin here—” 

Scully wipes her midsection clean, trying to visualize what lies beneath the skin, achingly aware that this still feels like a dream, a nightmare, like anything but real life.  

“Congratulations,” the tech offers straightforwardly, before snipping the door shut behind her. 

Nine weeks. Nine. Before the jinniyah, before the cigarettes, before even California. Nine weeks. 

Mulder—

- 

The acrid burn of bile in her throat, her mother’s cold and empty answering machine. A ghost of her lover walking the halls of her apartment building, or a copy, an imitation. 

She absconds to Hegel Place, prays for the first time in years, falls asleep clutching a dirty shirt, hunting for any comforting trace of his cologne, his spiced and musky sweat. She sees Missy from afar in her dreams, shouts her name, watches her walk away. She sees Mulder, metal, light. 

When she wakes, she is not alone. It’s clear that in this chase, it is she who is the fox, and John Doggett the hound, calling back to his ruthless, frothing masters for blood while she is trapped in her hollow, trying only to protect her young. Theirs—

Mulder—

-

Gibson Praise underground, dust in his hair, his fibula snapped. Empty sky stretching over a cruel expanse of sand, dreams upon dreams, shapeshifters twisting, searching, disappearing into the night. She paces the drifting hills like a penitent, seeking forgiveness from the universe—she believes, she believes, she feels him, have mercy—

God, Mulder, please, have mercy—

-

She shoots a monster who looks like a friend. The enemy cradles her like she is a child. 

She dreams, she wakes. She calls out, and Mulder answers her from deep inside her womb, and from somewhere beyond the starline. 

- Incrementum