#also of course it ends well but after a long investigation and a lot of pain and suffering

[krimiqueer]

I need a Polizeiruf 110 episode where a small evidence everyone missed points to Adam. Only Vincent catches that, and he hides it as long as he can to lead his own investigation. And it doesn't go well.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Bruce x Bat Dad (and some bat fam)

What if reader knew about the darker things in the world like demons and horrors unimaginable from the time he was small and that's why he doesn't talk about things like growing up or his family.

What if reader gets captured by a cult that torture him in order to force reader to translate strange eldritch books and artifacts.

You can choose how long it takes for Bruce to find reader

(What if Bruce and the batfam find out that reader has been hunting and investigating the supernatural like a small base of operations that looks more like a library with hidden weapons)

Hi, I hope you have a good day or night too. Of course you can request. Hehe. Lets go. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long... I hope you like it! And yes, the ending may be rushed, but it's not that bad.

Summary: (Y/N) gets taken for his knowledge.

Warnings: cult, fight, implications of torture... Nothing is really direct per say.

(Y/N) sighed as he closed his old leather book. He wished he didn't have this knowledge, this... (Y/N) swallowed as he put his book back and left the room, closing the fake bookcase. He rubbed his face as he was tired from this life. He wished he didn't have this knowledge. He knows the things that would turn the world upside down.

He met with hell's worst demons and he saw some of the other unspeakable horrors. (Y/N) never had a good life. He grew up in a satanic cult, the one who was genuinely believing that Satan is coming and that they are going to be his loyal servants.

He was apparently marked by Satan when he was born, but then again, when you are in a cult, you believe what they tell you. (Y/N) escaped when he was 16 years old, running like the devil himself was chasing him. (Y/N) came to Gotham with only clothes on his back.

Soon he met a nice guy who helped him. (Y/N) is smart and intelligent and he managed to start high school. He graduated after 3 years and went on to study history and religion at college. He was always interested in those things and soon enough, he found himself working in a museum.

It was a nice change of pace for once. Learning about old things and older religions and he liked it when he could teach someone something new. Of course, he was vigilant of new people and people in general. He was careful when meeting someone new, hoping that the cult didn't go after him. He could only hope so.

Dating after being in a cult it's difficult. Always suspicious of any one coming into his life romantically. Men or women, being suspicious from the get go was a certified way to see if someone was from the cult. It was also one of the fastest ways to get your relationship destroyed.

Then Bruce Wayne came into his life.

It was a coincidence. Bruce saw an interesting exhibition and decided to treat Damian to a little treat. (Y/N) was making his way through the museum, just enjoying his day and making sure every visitor was taken care of. He saw Bruce and Damian, looking in confusion.

(Y/N) walked over and asked if everything was okay and the rest was history. He lead the two through the museum, enjoying the fact that Damian knew a lot about history and it was actually fun to debate a child who knew something over a fact.

Bruce was quiet, enjoying the tour and well... Love at first sight for Bruce. He was chatting with (Y/N) and saw how guarded he was. Sure, everyone is guarded around strangers, but this is a whole another level of being guarded.

Bruce was rather intrigued, but he didn't want to push any boundaries. So he left (Y/N) his number, saying no pressure to say yes, but do call.

To say (Y/N) was a nervous wreck is an understatement. What the hell was Bruce Wayne doing with him? Was he just looking for a one night stand? Or was just flirting to keep with the playboy persona? He came home and stared at the card for 10 minutes, thinking about it.

Should he?

Should he not?

You know what? He's not made from glass. He will go for it and whatever happens, happens. He texted Bruce, he wasn't really brave enough to call. He really wasn't.

He jumped when he saw that Bruce responded.

To cut a very long story short, Bruce and (Y/N) are together to this day. The date went very well and (Y/N) was happy for the first time. He has never been happier. Together with a man who loves him and the kids who love him.

(Y/N) may love the kids more than Bruce, but Bruce won't complain. Anyone who accepted his kids, he was more than happy and if that person loved the kids more than Bruce...

Of course, in platonic way.

But there was something that bothered the family, well, not bothered, but it was interesting to them. It was (Y/N)'s past. It was something he hid and refused to talk about. He would get closed off and cold and soon enough they learnt to not ask about it.

Of course, in a family full of detectives, they wanted to investigate, but they knew that they shouldn't have because it was an invasion of privacy. So, they have decided to leave (Y/N)'s past alone.

Also, one thing that they loved about (Y/N) was the fact that he was teaching them history, something they all loved. Jason was a fan of Egypt and Sumerians. Dick loved European history, more so medieval times. Tim loved the Enigma and the making of a first computer?

And Damian? World War Two and Arabic history.

Alfred loved (Y/N) too and he would love nothing more for Bruce to marry that man. God knows that this household needs another emotionally stable person. Somewhat...

Alfred was not the one to complain.

He saw how (Y/N) and Bruce complimented one another and Bruce gave (Y/N) a push to write his book about history of religion. (Y/N) has always wanted to write that and Bruce gave him a push he needed. But not financially.

(Y/N) said he would do it all on his own. Bruce had no problem with that statement. He agreed to not pull connections with anyone or any publishing house. But he wasn't against getting (Y/N) his materials. He had no problem delivering the materials right to his door or at his work.

(Y/N) knew that Bruce was Batman so he knew that Bruce was in front of his apartment or in his office. (Y/N) enjoyed and was happy to see them.

(Y/N) entered his apartment and went to the kitchen. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a dark figure in his living room. (Y/N) took a sip of the water before he heard a creak on the floor board. He acted like it was nothing before throwing the glass in the direction on the sound. He hit the figure and (Y/N) grabbed a knife.

(Y/N) watched as the figure doubled down in pain, before recovering. The figure has stepped into the light and (Y/N) recognized the face.

" You motherfucker... " (Y/N) said as he gripped the handle of the knife tighter.

" That's no way to talk to your leader. " The deep male voice said and (Y/N) sized him up.

Maybe he can make it out. But the leader is strong and full of muscles. He has to evade him. Somehow.

That plan went down to shit when he saw two more figures. Sure, the leader needs to have protection. (Y/N) glanced between the trio. Someone is going to attack first.

Which one is the question.

(Y/N) ducked a punch and tried to stab the incoming one, but he was hurled over the couch, taking it with him. (Y/N) grunted as he hit the floor and he stood up after a few moments. He didn't have his knife with him.

Shit.

He nearly died when there was a fourth figure picking him up, before throwing him into his glass coffee table. (Y/N) grunted as he hit his head. He hissed as he tried to get up, but a kick to his face sent him flying back and he was dazed.

" I'm not coming with you. " (Y/N) said as he wiped the blood from his face.

" Oh you are. We know you can translate the demon transcriptions. And we need those translations. " The leader said and (Y/N) glared at them.

He won't go out without a fight.

" You are outnumbered. There is no way out. " The leader said and (Y/N) glanced at the other two. They were blocking the exit. They only way is to fight out or at least try.

But there was no weapon in sight. So he was screwed. Kicking and punching his way out can only take him so far.

But he had to try.

So he did just that. He tried to fight, but he was punched in the jaw quickly that he was nearly knocked. He fell down, hitting his head hard once more.

His vision was swimming and he couldn't see who was where anymore. His only hope now was Bruce. He knew Bruce would drop by later in the night and that he would find him. Bruce would never stop looking for him.

The kiddos too...

His jaw got punched once more and he blacked out. Now the cult had him where they wanted him. They could do what they pleased.

And if that meant torture... Well, then so be it.

Two fucking months. Bruce was losing his mind as he was looking for his boyfriend. He was horrified when he learnt of (Y/N)'s past, who wouldn't be terrified? Learning and growing up in a cult?

Bruce remembers the first time he entered the apartment and he will always wonder about a lot of things. More so that (Y/N) is somewhat normal.

Bruce was shocked that (Y/N) turned out normal. The trauma he must have went through... He was even more shocked when they found out the secret library in his apartment... Bruce had to call John Constantine to see what the hell was happening here.

John knew exactly what this was. (Y/N) was a hunter who hunted demons and banished them back to hell. Bruce was officially in the dark now. His beloved, his significant other was a hunter? Who went after demons?

Bruce didn't know how the hell he was going to explain this to his kids. How can you explain something like this? Bruce analyzed every part of the apartment, trying to figure out what happened.

He saw that (Y/N) had a knife, but was threw around the room. Then he was put through his glass coffee table. Bruce sighed quietly as John looked through the books.

" This is an amazing collection. " John commented as he looked through the books and the weapons.

" Is that really important right now? " Bruce snapped at the man and John just shrugged his shoulders.

" I guess not, but I know people who would kill for this collection. Bruce, he has knowledge of the single handedly one of the most ancient languages in the world. I can only count people on one hand that know this language. " John explained.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

" I think I know why they kidnapped your partner. " John said as he picked up a book. Bruce raised his brow in question.

" The cult that took him wanted some translations it seems. " John said as he opened and old, leather bound book, more interested in the book at the moment.

" That's not good. I'm assuming he will resist... They are going to torture him. " Bruce said solemnly, eyes darting around the apartment.

" We will put the bookshelf the way it was. Maybe they were after the books and weapons. " Bruce said and John sighed as he put the book where he found it and then did what Bruce asked from him.

From that day, two months passed. Bruce and everyone else worked tirelessly to find their favorite person. Bruce his boyfriend, soon to be a fiancé, the boys their second dad, one that is more emotionally open and Alfred needed one person who is going to be somewhat normal.

Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin when he got a location. They boys and him piled into the batmobile and drove as fast as the car allowed it.

To say that they had to fight their way in was an understatement. Alfred was anxiously waiting in the cave.

Bruce nearly died when he saw (Y/N). Bloodied, bruised... Bruce didn't want to know the specifics. He picked his beloved up and moved to the car and he made sure to call the SWAT team from GCPD, alongside a few more organizations.

The cult deserves it, okay? Was he over reacting? Maybe.

But that didn't matter now. What mattered is the fact that (Y/N) is taken care of and is alive and well.

To say he drove like a madman... Would be the biggest understatement of the century. Once they came, they rushed their favorite person to Alfred.

Time was of the essence.

Bruce waited for his boys to finish talking to their second dad. (Y/N) had awoken and although still weak, he still talked to his sons. After 20 minutes, Bruce ushered them out, making them all protest a bit, but in the end they knew that they need to go.

Jason hugged his dad, very carefully and left. Dick kissed his dad's cheek and Tim squeezed his hand. Damian hugged his second dad before leaving and the two partners are soon left alone.

" I'm sorry for not telling you the truth... But it was too difficult. " (Y/N) said and Bruce kissed his cheek softly.

" Don't apologize. I understand that. "

" I'm assuming you found my base? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded.

" John said you have a collection people would kill for... This is such shit timing, but would you like to move in? " Bruce said and (Y/N) snorted, but stopped because of his ribs.

" Yes, I would love nothing more. "

Bruce kissed (Y/N)'s cheek again. " Good. I'll leave you to rest. "

" Can you stay with me? "

Bruce smiled and nodded, changing into his PJs before gently laying down next to (Y/N), wrapping him into blankets and the two quickly feel asleep.

The two were finally reunited.

[petriwriting]

Vero amore - Theodore Nott X Reader (Part 1.)

Summary: Theodore is on trial for being associated with voldemort due to his father and family history, His odds arent looking so good. Luckily for him you are called to the stand to testify on his behalf, and you just might be the key to his innocence.

Fluff, established previous relationship, Exbf!Theo, Older!Theo and others. Post hogwarts.

A/N: My first longer(ish) story. Let me know if you want to be tagged for part 2 and if you like it overall, I always like feedback! also if it is poorly edited I will go back and change a few things here or there. nothing major though. Please heed my warning this will have a lot of time jumps and memories but it will all make sense in the end promise. (Mini Series is now a WIP)

Italic is memories

"This could be the end of me." 

Theodore sighs in defeat, he is exhausted, and takes a swig of butterbeer to calm his nerves. The years past had not been kind to the man, his shoulders were low, as if they were fatigued from carrying the weight of the world had weakened his posture. His eyes had sullen dark circles beneath them, and his hair was long and un-kept. There was a cigarette between his fingers, it was unlit, but waiting patiently. He wasn't so much nervous, as he was ready for this to all be over. He was more than ready to leave his family's reputation in the past and move forward to better things. He was slightly jealous of Draco Malfoy for that reason, Draco had even become much more acquainted with Harry Potter after the war, leaving his reputation in the past now as a mature adult. Theodore felt partially he hadn't matured enough, and that he was still the boy who was stuck in his 6th year. It was a harsh adjustment for everyone, but Theo was completely alone now, with his father pronounced deceased shortly after the war and an estate left to him. He was an only child, his mother was gone. He pushes away all his friends for the most part and had not bothered making new ones... Theodore Nott was a mess. With one hand holding the beer bottle and cigarette, his other hand found its way to his pocket, pulling out a tiny black stone, rubbing it between his fingers to self soothe. 

"Let's not be too dramatic." Blaise says, with a slighty comforting tone. luckily for Theodore, Blaise had been helping him through his depression despite his best efforts to push him away. It was an effort that was silently appreciated. "I doubt Y/N would lie to the council, especially since it happened so many years ago." He said, standing at the other end of the kitchen island looking over at Theo. 

"Well, considering my behavior... I broke their heart. I wouldn't honestly wouldn't be upset if they did, Maybe I deserve it.." Theodore said, running his hand through his messy curls. 

Things had been tense for him lately. The ministry began investigating all those who were suspected to be involved with Voldemort's operations, one by one. Some trials were famous for their unhappy endings, others not so much. With Theodore Nott being his father's son, he was one of the first people to be questioned, going through the lengthy process of trying to prove his own innocence. His fathers action had ruined his son's reputation. Of course many of his friends had tried to speak on behalf of his good character, but the court's jury still seemed unconvinced. They had called you to the stand to testify for him, and he was utterly terrified. Although some may argue that the odds were stacked against Theodore, with the trace of a dark mark still plaguing his arm, Though others stand to believe he was innocent. Many of his friends had gotten through unscathed, although due to his father's high esteem, Theodore felt conflicted and angry. He knew it wasn't right to put you in that position, especially after all the time that has passed. Being a pureblooded slytherin associated with all things evil, the cards were not exactly in his favor.

"Well, let's hope for the best, shall we?" Blaise says, after pouring himself a small glass to toast with Theo. They had managed to stay relatively close throughout the years, despite all the chatter.

*Clink. 

"thanks, I'll need it." Theodore says, finally lighting his cigarette.

.    .    .You were relaxing one evening when a stocky brown barn owl nearly crashed into your window, with it came a letter with a familiar silver wax seal. The ministry of magic. You were quite alarmed, as you had no reason in particular to be contacted by them. Was your wand permit expired? or maybe there was some urgent matter to attend to? These questions flooded your mind as you carefully opened the letter. It was a summons. "You are hereby summoned to testify in court regarding the alleged innocence and character of Theodore Nott."  Readinghis name made your heart flutter. 

You had to stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath. You would be in the courtroom, testifying on behalf of your old ex-boyfriend from your school days. You could not believe it. The rest of the letter was a blur, something about instructions and court behavior expectations and what not to bring. You and Theodore had had a very Illustrious history together. He was your first love after all. It was all you could think about, for days on end until the court date finally arrived. It felt like months of sitting and waiting in anticipation and anxiety. Your mind turned over every interaction you had that would somehow frame you in a bad way, you were scared they might open a case on you just for the affiliation. Part of you, maybe even the tiniest part, felt that this was some kind of fate. Perhaps you were simply destined to relive the past, even if it was some of the most painful memories, maybe you could finally progress and heal after this.

You ran your fingers over your hair, readying yourself for what was about to come about, how it could all blow up in your face, or worse... You simply had no idea what to expect. You didn't even know what Theodore was up to these days apart from the slight mentions you overheard from friends and gossip. Aside from everything you were scared to face the man who broke your heart.

With a sigh, you apparated to the ministry's main office. Rushing past you were business men and women, Aurors, and some office workers. everyone seemed in a hurry, which didn't help your heart rate at all. It was beating fast as the seconds ticked on by. You scurried through the busy halls to the elevator, you were instructed to meet outside courtroom Ten, on the tenth level. You approached the doors steadily although nervously. You were waiting to be escorted into the main room. This level was so silent, almost as if it was void of any people at all. 

Someone in a plumb robe appeared, with a soft smile. It was a much older woman, something about her was oddly comforting. "Alright love," she said, sensing how nervous you were. You were fixing your collar for the third time. "No need to be scared, You'll see a bright light, then I will escort you to your seat." she explained. "Very simple." you nodded along. You could feel your heart-beat in your chest, wanting to run away or apparate somewhere you were familiar with, but you managed to keep yourself collected. 

It wasn't that you were scared of the court or being sentenced, you knew you were innocent and that you had nothing to hide, but you were anxious about seeing Theodore. The clever and mischievous boy you fell in love with may not be in that room, he may have changed completely. You were scared of that change. For you, it was devastating, He was your whole world and you loved him with all your heart, but you were starting to think that you must not have been the same to him, as after the war he had moved away from the city with blaise, Never even bothering to send an owl or talk to you. You tried to justify it, maybe he had his own reasons. He was going through a lot, without a doubt. above all you were scared you would fold under the pressure of being on the stand.

"Alright dear." the old woman whispered, taking your arm. you were led into the hall, it was dark. The woman was truthful about that bright light, it was blinding, like a spotlight. You could feel the enchantments that had been done in this room, there was a fuzzy, but calming feeling washing over you. The jury were all dressed in the same robes, sitting in near rows of curved benches that opened up into a central clearing, where there was a large chair on a podium. That must be where they would question people, you thought to yourself. The bright light began to disappear more and more as your eyes adjusted, as most of everything else was dark. The Wizengamot stood, everyone followed suit. you were standing on the sidelines with your escort, there was so much going on you almost didn't see Theodore sat across from everyone. There were two Aurors on either side of him and he was in restraints. It pained you to see him treated like a criminal, especially after seeing how gentle he really was. He looked older, still as handsome, but tired. Exhausted even, with dark circles under his eyes and his curls a mess atop his head. For a moment, you saw him and your heart skipped a beat.

"Witches and Wizards of the court, we are gathered today for the testimony of Y/N L/N on Behalf of Mr. Theodore Nott. shall the information and insight given to us today be conclusive, we may not need perpetuation of this case."  The wizengamot says. "We will proceed with a brief summary of our evidence, and our trial shall commence with Mrs.L/N's Testimony."

A small, short stubby man wanders up to the front of the jury to recap the evidence. He explains the case in short detail. Theodore was being accused of being affiliated with his father's operations, and since his father worked for Lord Voldemort the evidence was conveniently stacked against Theodore. The first piece of evidence was Theodore's dark mark, and the jury had apparently stated that this was a choice made by Theo, although you knew deep down it wasn't. The second piece of evidence brought up from collections was a broken time turner, you could clearly recall the memory of this. Although that was the only physical evidence against him, The other witnesses were named. One of them was a Slytherin student who had a class with Theodore, but you quickly realized whatever she had said must have been against his innocence, since it was someone Theodore rejected countless times, and he even left her alone to pick up a project worth most of their grade during fifth year granted, he did have a good excuse it didn't matter. The other witness was named Theodore's neighbor, an old man who had been acquainted with his father. It was clear the old man hated the Nott family, having lived in silent hatred next to the Nott manor for many years. And then, the final witness was you.

After turning the thoughts over your head, and imagining all possible outcomes you realized that they were about to try Theodore Nott for an affiliation with Death Eaters that was not his doing. Theodore was about to become a criminal  .  .  . 

You knew in your heart that this wasn't right. It was unjust. You would be guilt ridden for the rest of your life if you didn't at least attempt to unravel these lies. You could disprove most of the evidence anyway, you also knew that it might not be enough. Your escort stood behind you as you stood on the central platform to be seated for the jury. The same man who spoke before and welcomed everyone to the trial turned to you. "Mrs. L/N," he said, you gulped and took a shallow sigh. "How do you wish to proceed?" he asked you. 

You looked at him for a moment, and then back to the jury. They seemed like they didn't particularly care about being there. Without thinking much, "I would like to request to present my memories as evidence." you said. "Very well." the man replied, receding back into the room. At this time, you had to be sure you were providing the best evidence even if it meant showing everyone in that courtroom your most vulnerable moments. It was a brave gesture. 

After a few moments of silence, some Aurors emerged into the room with a Pensive. A small silver bowl with runes and symbols carved on the inside and outside, within it contained a shiny silver liquid. It was placed in the center of the room. The Auror approached you, asking for your permission before proceeding with extracting your memories. You had read about this in school, but you had never seen one let alone used one for yourself. He placed his wand up to your head, twirling gently. You felt a tear escape your eyes, it wasn't painful, but it felt like a sudden rush and headache. The Auror added the memories to the silver bowl, and in almost an instant it began to glow.

"Mrs. L/N," one of the jury members began. "are you sure you wish to proceed?" they asked, you nodded quickly. 

You took a deep breath as you looked into the bowl, It was enchanted to allow everyone to see your memories, and the glowing ball of light sprung up to illuminate the center of the room, within it was your memory.  .  .

[guaxinimraccoon]

Agora, a pergunta q nn quer calar: por que o Toby roubou o livro?

MEU DEUS eu achei que já tinha dito isso em algum lugar, mas dei uma procurada aqui e nada de achar o link disso pq eu NUNCA EXPLIQUEI DJKSKJDSKJDS MALZ bora lá

My bud here asked a very important question: why Tobias stole a very sacred and important book?

The short answer is: because Tobias has a curse and he wanted to find a cure.

OMG HOW- calm down, first things first.

As I said before, when Alex and Elisa started to take their relationship more seriously, Alex would hang out in the Colony using a shrinking potion and preteding to be an imp. He was well accepted as one by Elisa's fellow imps and fairies and they never had many problems with his disguise.

But there was this one, powerful, envy fairy who took notice that something about Alex was... off.

She started to do her own investigations and ended up finding the truth out: Alex was no imp, but a human in disguise. Although, to her, this was actually very good news.

Why? Because this fairy - Irwalia - comes from a family that has been preaching an ancient propecy over a century now. Said prophecy omens that, one day, a being with the strongest of souls - a fairy soul - and the strongest of bodies - a human body - would be born to free the Colony from it's decades of war.

There are a lot of fairy families that preach this prophecy till this day, but all of them are taken as delusionals by most of the Colony's inhabitants. It's impossible to have a being that has a different soul from it's body, it just can't happen. But they hold onto their beliefs firmly regardless.

When Irwalia learned the truth about Alex, she couldn't help but be ecstatic: she had finally found a human inside the Colony's walls. And, if SHE was the one who discovered him first, then she must be the one meant to give birth to this prophetic child… right?

In a vengeful and spiteful spirit, Irwalia decided to not report Alex to the Colony's authorities, but instead take her anger out on what the human and his imp wife treasured the most: their only child.

Alex and Elisa didn't took long to find Toby, afterall she wanted to take her revenge in front of them...

Irwalia cursed Toby with something that not only breaked Alex's heart, but made the child defenseless if he ever encountered a human: if in close proximity to a human, Toby is completely unable to do any kind of magic.

This may not sound like a big deal, but imps, especially imp borrowers, take great advantage from their magic abilities to protect themselves from the sight of humans and their malicious intents. And, of course, Toby would never be able to obtain his full magic potential (which he has a lot of) around his own father.

Aside from all that, his hair is now bright blue, a side effect of the curse that makes it difficult for him to hide from humans and dangerous animals.

Toby grew up not being allowed to leave the Colony EVER because of his curse. So when he became an adult, after getting involved in a lot of trouble inside the Colony, being the little thief and vagabond that he is, he thought-

Unfortunately, he never had the chance to actually seek a cure for his curse in the book because he was discovered for his theft before that, yeah, it was all kind of pointless, he truly sucks at hiding.

Huh, I also wonder why it worked...

[e-dubbc11]

Still?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, smexy imagination (f! Receiving oral), mentions of death, a few tears, smooches, alludes to sex

Word Count: 3.9K-ish

Summary: After a run in with a shapeshifter and the local police, you end up with a bullet wound that you can’t patch up yourself. You call your best friend that you haven’t seen in a couple of years and that you’ve been in love with since you were kids

A/N: Spoilers for anyone that’s never watched the show, or watched past season 5. This takes place a couple of years after the apocalypse and Sam goes into the cage with Lucifer and Dean shows up at Lisa’s door.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Your escape hadn’t been easy but you managed to get away and with only one bullet wound courtesy of the local police. Of course they didn’t believe you when you told them that the “person” they were tracking wasn’t you, it was only someone who looked exactly like you.

The shifter would have to wait, you needed this bullet out of your oblique muscle now but you weren’t going to be able to get it out by yourself and there was no way you could go to a hospital with your face plastered all over the news.

But you were alone without anyone to call. Well, that’s not exactly true, there was one person you could call but you did not want to see him. However, what other choice did you have?

After checking into a motel outside of town (they probably hadn’t seen the news yet), you texted him.

You awake? I need your help.

It was late so you were surprised to see the three dots immediately appear underneath your message.

On my way. Text me your location.

You gave him the address of the motel and he wrote back that he was about 40 minutes away so all you could do was sit and wait.

The sky had been in a vengeful mood all day and finally after a particularly loud crack of thunder, the sky split in half and you could hear the rain hammering against the roof and pelting the hoods of the cars outside your door.

Hoping it wouldn’t impede his arrival time, the incessant rainstorm dumped buckets of rain leaving massive puddles in the parking lot and the runoff water sounded like a waterfall falling into the storm drain.

After you sent the text, he was all you could think about…Dean Winchester. He was your childhood friend, fellow hunter and the man who’s had your heart ever since you were kids…although he didn’t know it.

**********

You met Dean, his brother Sam, and their father John when you were 12. Dean was 14 and Sam was 10. You and your mother were crashing at Bobby’s for a couple of days after a particularly draining hunt for a vampire nest.

The only familiar voice coming from downstairs was Bobby’s, but there were also three others so you decided to investigate while your mother was still sleeping off your first big kill.

Creeping down the stairs, you tried to make as little noise as possible and as you peered around the corner, the cutest boy you had ever seen was directly in your line of sight.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket, had light brown hair, eyes the color of summer grass, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Immediately, your heart started beating faster and you felt flutters in your stomach. You were smitten.

Suddenly, the stairs creaked underneath your feet, they all turned and saw you standing there staring at all of them with a nervous smile on your face. Your heart was beating even faster now, heat rushed to your cheeks, and the palms of your hands became very warm.

You remembered you had just gotten out of bed after a long nap so you nervously and absentmindedly started to smooth your hair and adjust your clothes while averting your gaze from Dean to your Henley shirt and jeans.

“Well look who’s awake. C’mere, sweetie, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine.” Said Bobby.

Feeling your knees beginning to shake, you slowly walked over to them, and stopped next to Bobby. Your eyes darted back and forth from Bobby back to the Winchesters as you gave them a slight smile and wave.

“Y/n, these are the Winchesters. That’s John, Dean and Sam. Y/n and her mother are resting here for a couple of days after a vamp hunt.” Bobby stated.

Dean looked a little surprised to know that you were a hunter too but learned quickly after a few hunts together that your mother taught you well. Also, after meeting your mother, she and John went on to have a brief relationship. Sometimes, they left the three of you behind to go off on their own hunts so you got to know Dean and Sam very well.

It was just nice to have friends in a “profession” where you normally worked alone.

You helped them anytime they needed you to and they would do the same for you. The three of you had been through a lot together, losing the only parents you had left, helping them track down the yellow-eyed demon that killed their mother, and trying to help Sam get Dean out of the pit of hell.

As you grew into adults and while on hunts, there were plenty of shared motel rooms, literally being in tight spaces, listening to the water run while he was in the shower, wondering if there were eyes on the other side of the door as you changed clothes…your sexual feelings for Dean were growing stronger too and you had gathered up the courage to maybe finally tell him.

But then it all vanished like air from a popped balloon.

You weren’t there when it happened, you were off on a hunt of your own but Bobby told you about Sam getting locked in the cage with Lucifer. Knowing that Dean must be devastated, you tried to call but there was no answer. And the next time you called, a woman answered which prompted you to quickly hang up.

“I didn’t want this for ya, kid.” Bobby had said, trying to console you.

Fresh sobs escaped from your throat. “Why didn’t he come to me, Bobby?!! He’s my best friend and he went to someone else?! She doesn’t know him like I do! She doesn’t know the life!” You cried.

Bobby was like a father figure to you and he tried, he really did but he didn’t know what to do to try and make it better.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” Bobby said softly. “I got somethin’ to tell ya, though. We need your help.”

Confused by the term “we”, you swiped the tears away from your cheeks and heard the front door open. Sam walked in and they both explained everything that was going on, how they’re purposely leaving Dean out of it because he was happy living a normal life which just made you sad but you agreed to help hunt down a powerful group of djinn that was after the boys for killing one of their own awhile back.

They were closing in on Dean. They stalked him, caused him to hallucinate, see things that weren’t there which is when Sam and Bobby decided to pull Dean back into it and that was when you had to walk away. He was already on your mind all day every day but you couldn’t see him again. It hurt too much, he hurt you too much.

But the brothers were back together again, you were saving people and hunting things by yourself which probably wasn’t a great idea but you’ve hunted alone since your mother’s passing. Now, you’re stuck outside of a shit town and waiting for the best friend you haven’t seen in over two years to come and help you.

What were you going to say to him?

Well, you had about 20 minutes left to try and figure it out.

**********

You could hear the low growl of the Impala and as it grew closer, the growl became a rumble before it stopped completely when Dean turned off the engine. The room was completely quiet; you didn’t have the tv or the radio on as you sat at the kitchen table carefully listening to the drumming of the rain up above you and trying not to wince at the pain in your side from the bullet. Then you heard the signature door squeak as it slammed shut, followed by five loud raps against the motel room door.

“Sweetheart, are you in there? Open up!” Shouted Dean over the rain.

“Sweetheart?” You whispered to yourself. “He has a lot of damn nerve!”

Turning to face the door, you yelled out, “IT’S OPEN!”

Dean stormed through the door.

“Are you nuts?!!” He yelled, coldly.

“Jury’s out on that one, Winchester. Lock the door behind ya, will ya?” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He glared at you. “Leavin’ the door unlocked, y/n…seriously, what is wrong with you?!”

You closed your eyes, shrugged and frowned in his direction.

“Alright…show me what happened. I heard your name all over the news…shapeshifter?” Asked Dean.

You nodded and showed him the wound on your back, right on the love handle.

“You sure the bullet didn’t come out?” Dean asked.

“Uh yeah, I think I would have noticed if I had another hole in front, Dean!!” You yelled through gritted teeth.

“Well you don’t have to yell at me! I’m here aren’t I? Actually, I’m surprised you texted me, Sam busy or somethin’?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.

“You know he’s working on something else so don’t play dumb with me Dean Winchester!” You hissed.

He was frustrating you to no end and he’s been there for five minutes.

“Get this bullet out of me now before I bleed out all over this floor!” You said.

Dean pointed toward the bathroom.

“Ok, ok, get in the bathroom, hands on the counter but before you do that, you’re gonna have to inch your pants down a little.” He said.

Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words.

“U-uh…y-you want m-me to do what?”

“Just inch them down a little bit; they’re just gonna be in the way if you leave them in place.” He said.

Dean set up everything he needed to extract the bullet on the counter. The only anesthetic he had with him was alcohol which took away only a fraction of the pain whether you were drinking it or pouring it on the wound.

The look on your face could have scalded paint off of the walls and your voice was tight with anger as you weaved a web of profanities so obscene, you would have probably made a sailor blush. Dean had finally managed to get the bullet out intact, stop the bleeding, and put a bandage on the wound.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly as if you didn’t just spend an hour cursing his very existence.

Another sly smile stretched across his lips as he finally replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You have some sweats or somethin’? Jeans are gonna be too harsh to rub against the wound.”

You did have some in your bag that was on one of the beds.

“They’re in my bag. I’ll get them.” You said starting to walk out of the bathroom.

He held his hands out in front of you, “Whoa, no…I’ll get them, just stay right here.” He said.

With your hand resting on the counter, you tried to take the weight off of your left side while Dean ran out to the other room to get your sweatpants. The bullet wound was really quite painful.

He set the sweats on the counter, inched closer to you and reached for the waistband of your jeans.

“Hey, hey…what are you doin’? I can do it myself, ya know.” You said in a scolding tone.

He folded his arms across his chest and with narrowed eyes, and asked with a smirk “Oh really? Ok, well I’ll be right on the other side of that door. Call me when you need my help because you will.”

He tapped you gently on the nose.

Scoffing at him, you tried your best to get your jeans off and put your sweatpants on but the pain was just too much. You were definitely going to need his help.

Softly, you called out to him.

“Deeeeeean?”

You could feel him smiling on the other side of the door.

“Yessssssss? You need some help in there or somethin’?” He asked in a semi-taunting voice.

Deflated, you replied, “Yes please.”

Dean slowly opened the door with a wide smile on his face, walked toward you and once again reached for the waistband on your jeans. Gently, he inched them down your thighs, all the way to your ankles before he had you rest your hands on his shoulders so he could take them off completely. If he only knew what this was doing to you.

He was eye level with your core, looking up at you through his long lashes with those beautiful green eyes of his and all you could think about was what it would be like to have his face buried in between your thighs, tasting you, and tongue fucking you until you see stars.

“I still can’t believe you fight monsters in a thong.” He chuckled.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you replied, “Oh my god, not the time! This is SO not the time for that!”

He laughed at you again as he gently pulled the sweatpants up, being careful not to touch your bullet wound, until he was gazing down at you fondly with a slight smirk on his face.

“Come on. I’ll help you to the bed.” He said.

After easing you down onto the bed, Dean started to gather everything he brought inside with him to bring out to the car.

You caught yourself staring at him. Actually, it was more like staring AND clenching. You’ve been in love with Dean Winchester since you were 12 years old and he’s never even tried to kiss you but you’ve wanted him to every single time you have been in the same room with him. He was all you had ever wanted.

As he continued to gather his things and clean up, you finally asked him with a hitch in your voice, “Why?”

“Why what, y/n?” He replied, still shoving things into his bag.

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you answered.

“Why did you go to her and not me after Sam went into the cage?! WHY?!” You asked. “I thought we were best friends, Dean!”

Stunned, Dean knew you weren’t going to let him leave without giving you an answer but the dejected look on his face told you he knew he made a huge mistake cutting you out like he did.

“I-I don’t know, y/n. I really don’t know. I got in the car and I started to dial your number but I stopped myself because I didn’t want you to see me like that! I didn’t want you to see me broken and hollow, ok?!” He said.

“So you went to someone who doesn’t even know you like I do? Doesn’t know the life? Doesn’t know that this life took the people that we loved the most in this world away from us?!! What kind of comfort could she have been to you?!!” You yelled. “Oh wait, nevermind. I actually know the answer to that one.”

“HEY! That is NOT fair!” Dean growled back.

“Oh you wanna talk about fair?! I called, texted, called again…one of those times, SHE answered your phone and I gave up after that. But you didn’t bother to call me back, EVER!! How fuckin’ fair is that, Dean?!” You sobbed with tears streaking down your cheeks.

You could see it in his eyes how angry and hurt he was. Dean’s lips were pulled tight in a straight line and the muscles in his forearms immediately tensed before tightly clenching his fists. He was trying his hardest not to snap back like you knew he wanted to.

Dean then shakily placed his hands on the back of a kitchen chair, leaned forward, and stared down at the floor for a minute before bringing his gaze back up to you.

“Look y/n, I guess I went to Lisa to feel better about myself knowing that I could protect her and Ben, to make up for not being able to protect Sam. You’ve never needed me to protect you, even when we were kids so I just went to them instead where I knew I could be of some use.” Said Dean.

Fighting back your tears but failing miserably, you replied, “When have you ever not been useful, Dean? All I wanted was to comfort my friend, my BEST friend, help you figure out how to get Sam out of the cage…something! But you didn’t give me that chance, did you.”

With his eyes shut tight, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low growl. You knew the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you but it was too late for that. Over two years had passed since you had seen him last but not a day had gone by where you didn’t think of him, miss him, or not love him. You thought maybe those feelings for Dean would eventually go away, but they never did and they never will.

You were young and it was a childhood crush, it should have gone away but those feelings for him just became stronger as the years passed so when Bobby told you Dean was with someone else it felt as though someone was crushing your heart inside your chest.

That dull ache would never go away and it became a sharp pain as soon as he barged into your room tonight. Seeing him again brought all of those feelings back to the surface, made your entire body tingle, and you wanted him more now than ever before.

The only people that knew your true feelings for Dean were Bobby and your mother. She knew from the minute she met the Winchesters that you had eyes for Dean.

Bobby only found out after he told you about Lisa but you made him promise not to say anything which he had kept tight to his chest until his passing. But you were unsure if Dean had any idea about your feelings for him.

“When have you ever NEEDED my help, y/n?!” Dean asked in a raised tone.

You replied, “NEEDED? Never, I’ve never NEEDED your help or anyone else’s help but I’ll always WANT it! I’ll always want…”

A lump formed in your throat as you finished your sentence.

“You…I’ll always want you, Dean.” You said with trembling lips.

“Say that again.” Said Dean.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you tried to get your words out again. With a deep inhale and a forceful exhale, you told him again.

“I always want you, Dean. I always have.” You finally said.

You could practically see the words bouncing around inside his head like in a pinball machine.

“This is gonna sound really cheesy but I’m tipsy from those shots of whiskey so here goes nothin’…I have never wanted, nor will I ever want, anyone else except you, Dean Winchester. I��ve been in love with you since I was 12 years old, no matter how many times I’ve tried to push it away, no matter how many times I told myself it was ‘just a crush’, and I even told myself that you’d probably never love me back. I still love you!” You said with conviction through tears and a slight nervous chuckle.

“Son of a bitch…I need to sit down.” He said, pressing his palm to his forehead and planting himself in one of the kitchen chairs.

You started to get up off of the bed.

“Lemme get you some wa—“ You started to say.

Dean held out his hand to stop you.

“No! Don’t you dare get up. You’re the one with the bullet wound and I’m just a clueless asshat apparently.” He said.

That made you laugh.

Cutting through the awkward silence, Dean said, “I really can’t explain what it was, what I felt but something happened to me every time I saw you smile, every time you laughed, or hugged me, and even when you poked fun at me. I knew that I never wanted to NOT hear your voice, feel the extra squeeze at the end of your hugs, or see your eyes light up when I walk through the door. Even when you’re pissed at me like earlier tonight, your eyes never lie, you’re STILL happy to see me.”

“Dean…” You started to say but he cut you off again.

“I think that’s why I could never really be in love with Lisa because I was already in love with…you.” Dean said in a low gravelly tone.

His words made your stomach drop, those words that you never thought you would hear other than the love you shared between friends, but he was in love with you too which made your heart soar.

You wanted to go to him so you tried to stand up but again he stopped you.

“Whoa! What did I tell you about getting up, huh? Just stay there. Now what do you need? I’ll get it.” He asked.

“I need you to kiss me, Dean.” You replied in barely more than a whisper.

He stood up, slowly walked over to the bed and gently helped you up to standing.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

You nodded as he titled your chin up so you were looking up into his green eyes. With his hands cupping your cheeks, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. Dean’s tongue swept your lower lip before parting them and pressing it against your teeth wanting desperately to tangle with yours.

He pulled you flush against him as your arms snaked around his neck and he continued to kiss you hungrily while the ache between your thighs felt like it was going to explode.

Great…what a time to be wounded and in pain.

Dean loved to hear his name fall from your lips over and over again as he kissed up and down your neck and you loved to say it like a favorite song you had memorized all of the words to. You let your fingers glide through his hair as his lips collided with yours again and he whispered again and again how beautiful you were.

You always wondered what this would be like, to have his lips on yours, his calloused hands touching your body, caressing your face, telling you that he loved you and it was everything you hoped it would be; it was the best kiss of your life.

He accidentally got too close to your wound as he moved his hand to your lower back.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You said wincing in pain.

He apologized profusely.

“Oooh shit! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…for everything.” He said as he gently brushed your cheeks with his knuckles.

You gave him a warm smile and replied, “It’s ok, I still love you, Dean.”

He kissed you again, his lips were soft and tasted like dark roast coffee; you never wanted him to stop.

“Still?” He asked with a wink.

You winked back. “Still.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose. “I always will.”

“Always?” You asked, biting back a smile.

Dean licked his lips before kissing you again.

“Always.” He said with a sly smile. “I’m taking you back to the bunker with me and when you’re all healed up? Plan on not leaving my room for at least a couple of days. I’m gonna show you how much I love you, over and over, and over again.” He purred in your ear.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you felt delightful sparks run down your back, and choked on the lump in your throat.

“Well…until then, can you just kiss me over and over and over again?” You asked.

He replied with a warm smile, “I think I can do that, baby.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

[yandere-sins]

just read your yandere! könig and it's adorable. 💕 curious, how would he react if his s/o is suffering from a fever? He finally sees them so needy, so peaceful, and when he places the back of his hand to check for their temprature?? his hearts is doing flips because they are voluntarily leaning into his touch (!!!) also, how would he act if he was sick? love your yandere works 💕💕

Thanks for requesting ♥ In sickness and in health, amirite? >:3

»»———————— ♡ ————————««        

♡ Of course, König is extremely worried after finding you coughing and sweating in bed, the blanket wrapped around you painfully tight as you complain about the cold in the apartment. It's unlike you to be vulnerable around him, even though König always tells you to relax and take it easy, he'll protect you. But when he reaches out to touch your forehead, skin burning against his calloused palm as you let out a long sigh before merely leaning into the touch, it's him who's melting by your side. Finally, it's his time to shine. Finally, you need him to be the big, strong protector and carer he knows he can be for you.

♡ If he learned anything from his childhood, then there are a lot of good remedies against your symptoms. A nice, warm shower is the first thing he orders for you, though when he notices your lack of strength, König is more than happy to draw you a bath and wash you himself, drawing out the process for as long as possible until your short from collapsing. After that, he's merrily humming as he puts you into his oversized hoodie, situating you on the couch for a moment so he can change the bedding.

♡ The tea water is boiling by the time he helps you back into bed, closing the window again after letting fresh air replace the old, your feet covered with his oversized, knitted socks. Once König gathered all that is needed—tea, water, and medicine—he sits by your side, ensuring you have a sip of everything while he watches your drowsy, feverish eyes slowly close before you return to sleep. He reaches out again, and a serene joy fills him as he pushes the hair out of your face, watching you nuzzle his palm in search of cooling your fever. He stays like that for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet, even more love for you spreading all throughout him. You are always amazing, but like this, it feels like he's experiencing a wonder.

♡ However, he knows what he has to do. Even if it hurts to part ways, he eventually lets you rest, making sure you are covered properly before leaving the room to allow you to heal in your sleep. All while he's on his way to fetch some chicken, soup veggies, and noodles for when you wake up. Once you open your eyes, you'll already hear the boiling of soup in the kitchen, König almost fainting as you come inside, disheveled and sickly, the blanket hanging off your body but looking so, so adorable. Like someone needing help. His help. He could watch you for hours as you investigate the concoction he's making. Still, even if you scrunch your nose at the thought of food, the real magic only happens once he serves you his soup.

♡ One bite, and you can't stop. König would have watched you scarf down the whole pot he made for two days, but after eating his portion as well, you seem full and a bit more lively. It returns some of the grumpiness you always show him, but you are suddenly overcome by energy as if you hadn't been knocked down for the last few hours. König doesn't mind. He carries your clothes after you as you discard them, reminding you to stay warm even as you scoff at him, a smile always playing around his lips as he sees you feeling so much better already, thanks to him.

♡ Eventually, your fever catches up to you, and you end up exhausted on the couch, barely able to watch the movie he let you choose. It doesn't matter what you want to see. Even the most cringe teen movie is good enough for him as long as he gets to watch it with you. Considering you slowly but surely lean against him, though, König doesn't try to stop you. You need your sleep, and he's glad to be your pillow. You don't even notice him pulling you into his lap, rubbing your back while the movie plays in the background as you fall asleep in his arms, but thanks to that, you also don't complain about him carrying you to bed with him, whispering his well-wishes and love confessions in your ear after he slips under the sheets with you, not afraid to catch your cold. It's nice as long as it lasts, and König knows he needs to treasure these moments. So while you allow him (unknowingly) to always be by your side, he takes the chance to do just that.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

Warning for Sexual Innuendo at the end

♡ While he might not catch your cold, even a strong soldier feels worn out occasionally. Given, his immune system is just as strong as he is, but König also suffers from a particular kind of sickness once he's under the weather... the man-flu. And yes, he's a huge, whiny baby about it.

♡ "Won't you take care of me, mein Schatz?"

♡ "Can I have a hug, please?"

♡ "Urgh, this is the worst. Don't leave me, please..."

♡ You might be able to run and hide from him for a while. Still, eventually, König will come to find you and drag you back to the couch or bed with him, forcing you into the little spoon so he can nuzzle his face into the nape of your neck or breathe in your smell as much as his nose allows. Somehow his shyness seems to go out of the window when he feels like "he's dying". He's just a big baby.

♡ Since you can't make him food, he'll order some for you guys, being very lenient in letting you get whatever you want. He'd order for you normally, but he's feeling too sick to do it. He just catches you from writing "I need help! I'm kidnapped!" in the comment box and sends it with a long groan of discomfort, but there's still some yummy food awaiting you, at least.

♡ If you do take pity, he'll be happy to drink whatever you get him. (If only he had sleeping pills accessible to you, right?) However, König insists that you praise him for taking sips and also drink from his cup to "prevent you from getting sick too". He also pulls you into his lap while you're holding the hot cup of tea, laughing it off when you burn him (which is a little disturbing).

♡ But in the end, needy as he is, you can't even escape him when he's sick. You go where he goes, be it the bath (even just to brush your teeth so he can lean against you since he's feeling "lightheaded") or the bed (meaning you just lay awake for hours while he smothers you with his body). I suppose it's nice he's a bit more honest with his feelings as he conveys that he needs you and to not fight him anymore, okay? You can try, but his grip around your wrists is still as firm as when he's healthy. So while he snores away, you simply have to endure being captured by him again, hip pressed to hip, as you feel the hints of a fever-boner poke you. But you're safe!

Until he wakes up.

[kohabielnin]

Truth & Inference headcanons working together

It's been a while since I wanted to put down on paper all the knowledge I have about the Truth & Inference universe, so… here it is

D.M/Désire Mélodis

• As a famous nobleman and art teacher, in front of others he treats you well and pleasantly, not so much when behind closed doors,

• He often sends you on missions with Noir or simply to come if Gatto is okay,

• Even though it doesn't seem like much, he actually cares about you, always teasing you and things like that,

• If you stay in the same environment as him, Noir and Tuberose, the only one who will defend you will be Noir because both Tuberose and D.M will provoke you,

• D.M is like a devil in human skin, but anyway he thinks you are a very important person in his life and will take care of you,

• He often likes to show you off as his, even though you are just an employee at his service, he is very proud of the little mouse he has in his hands

Gatto/Aesop Carl

• Gatto is by no means a person who enjoys company other than four-legged furry ones, but after so long he has learned not to care so much about you,

• Cat and the other kitties seem to just love you, so it makes Gatto feel a little better around you,

• Both you and him share the fear of being left alone with Tuberose,

• As you have a degree in chemistry, he usually asks for your help when he has some difficulty in an experiment,

• Usually trusts you to make his coffee and look after Cat while he's away,

• You are the only person he trusts to tell you that he has been leaking information about D.M to Sir Inference and you don't really care about it, but you still promised to keep it secret from the others for the safety of the Silent Rebel

Tuberose/Jack

• As soon as D.M told him that you would be his partner, be sure he held back a lot until the day he could have your confidence to tease you,

• Generally he likes to talk about Lady Rosemary and you can be sure that this conversation only ends when you end up sleeping,

• Even though he is an idiotic provocateur, he is very kind when he wants to be,

• As I said, he has his moments of kindness, presenting you with flowers, but then he goes back to teasing you again if he sees your face flushed,

• Pray you never have him and D.M in the same room, they both love to tease you,

• We all know that Tuberose is a hot man, and he clearly knows that so the normal tease he uses on you is just how you look at his six-pack on display.

Noir/Saphir Mélodis

• You and him always worked together because you both wanted to, not at D.M's request,

• Since you've known each other since you were children, it's as if you two can read each other's minds and that helps a lot when it comes to getting your hands dirty,

• It's not just him who has a certain affection for you, Leon your falcon also likes you a lot and likes to receive affection from you,

• D.M lets the two of you stay together because he says Noir is happy in his company and performs great on missions when he's by his side,

• Of course, not everything is a bed of roses, after all, there isn't a day that goes by that Tuberose doesn't tease you because of his childhood relationship with Noir,

• In the same way that Tuberose provokes you, Noir always appears at the right times to save you, of course, not before giving beautiful answers to Tuberose

Lady Truth/Emma Woods

• You, her and Mr. Inferece met at the orphanage and have been together ever since.

• She is very affectionate and dedicated to her two childhood friends, so there won't be a day that goes by that you are sad that she doesn't try to make a smile appear on your face,

• Unlike Mr. Inference, she is not as serious and is more relaxed, trying her best to make the agency's atmosphere light,

• She loves to surprise you with her favorite snack at least one day a week, it only changes when it's your birthday week which is every day and on your birthday she throws a surprise party for you,

• When it comes to investigations, she relies heavily on her deductive potential, so while she looks for clues, she usually lets you come up with the line of reasoning to solve the case,

• Once a month she changes the flowers in the vase on her table, always to her favorite flowers.

Mr. Inference/Naib Subedar

• He always saw you as a little brother/sister,

• Even with his serious demeanor, he cares a lot about you and often asks if you're okay,

• When the two of you are alone, he often shares his concerns about D.M.

• Usually you, him and Lady Truth go to events as guests and you can be sure that you are the only person who can calm him down when they meet D.M,

• D.M, in turn, really likes to provoke the detective and you, which clearly doesn't come very cheaply to the count,

• As your relationship with him is long-standing, you understand each other without needing words and he also trusts your deduction a lot.

White/Saphir Mélodis

• He is always extremely affectionate with you,

• You two haven't known each other long, but you feel like you've known each other for a long time,

• His owl also loves to sit on his shoulder and receive affection,

• He usually sleeps at work, according to him it's a nap to work better, but he usually keeps muttering things like "I really like your company" and things like that while he calls your name in his sleep,

• On his days off he loves going out with you to a park and being able to sleep under a tree on your lap, according to him it's a moment of peace for him,

• There's no denying that he's extremely cute, and sometimes he uses that to his advantage to get your attention.

[yukikogazingthestars]

“Oh, I guess that’s the way things go”

Dazai being dazai and his s/o wasn't too happy this time

fluff and angst/ verbal bullying (if you squint)/ Dazai is a little bully here/happy ending

Oh, Dazai is the world number one bully. He is mischievous, playful and even goes far to do harmless pranks. Kunikida is having high blood pressure and Atsushi has to fry his brain to understand Dazai’s strange jokes. But,the most miserable victim is his naïve and airheaded S/o who never knows or has a clue about what Dazai is doing or saying. Dazai loves seeing his S/O try to use all of her brain to understand what he is saying. She is struggling and even steam comes out from her head. But, in the end, she has to give up and asks him what he was talking. Dazai laughed and pinched her cheeks, calling her ‘’DUMMY, MY PRETTY DUMMY "and he will explain his jokes or his puzzles while he was still grabbing and pinching her cheeks. “Please stop, you’re hurting me” said his S/o while she was trying to remove his hands on her cheeks. But Dazai won’t stop. Instead, he would squash her cheeks and kissed her pouted lips telling her that how much he enjoys kissing and squashing her.His S/o scolded and struggled him but, in the end, she also loved to be bullied by her beloved brunette man. She would cry a little and Dazai will be, “Awwn, is my pretty dummy crying? Shh shh”and he will shower her face with a lot of kisses. “You are a meanie, bully”. She would scold at him while she was being showered with kisses and Dazai replied with giggles and more rough kisses.That is their daily routines that everyone in the ADA neglected. But his S/O sometimes suspected if Dazai is just teasing her or he really means that she is dumb. Of course, she knows she is not as smart as him, but, her brain function pretty well, and she can even solve mysteries in life-or-death situations. That has been annoying her mind for a long time. She met with Fyodor in her last job where she has to investigate a murder case. When Fyodor learned that Y/N is Dazai’s girlfriend, he decided to mess with their relationship, so he planted some doubts in her mind. He would gladly watch Dazai and Y/N breaking up and Dazai in great mental distraction with a sip of tea. Fyodor kinda found Y/N is cute, and a little dumb but he knew she couldn’t be manipulated easily since her mind is strong and her IQ is above average so he can only implant a little doubt. “If he really cares or loves you, why does he make those mean comments?“asked Fyodor when he heard Dazai is calling Y/N Dummy on the other side of phone. (OH GOD, THAT RAT’S WORDS ARE MESSING IN MY HEAD) She cursed in her mind remembering the event that happened last week. Y/n is feeling unwell today. Headache, mentally exhausted, hungry, energy drained, period cramps and not in good weather.It was her time of month and she sighed trying not to annoy herself. She overworks today since she couldn’t catch Fyodor that day thanks to her distraction. “Y/N channnnn” There Dazai is, rushing to her desk, putting his one of his hands on her shoulder and putting his chin on her head. His other hand is hugging her waist. Dazai is as usual, clinging on her and talking about his assigned job.She couldn’t fully concentrate on his talk because of period cramps and stress but she didn’t show it since she didn’t want to make Dazai sad just after a tiring job. “So, who is the culprit in this case” Dazai asked. Since Y/N didn’t pay attention in his speech, she couldn’t grasp small detail from the case and she is now too immersed in her current report, so she simply answered,” no“and put all of her focus on the report again. Dazai laughed in his signature pose and he hugged her tightly while he called her,” Of course, you won't know, My little dummy”. He even hugged tightly her waist and it pushed her to her limit since she had been working under period cramps and stress all day.

SHE TRIED SO SO HARD AND HER LOVER IS CALLING HER DUMB AND DIDN’T EVEN SEEM TO NOTICE HER HARDWORKING.

“WHAT IS WREONG WITH YOU? OKAY, IF YOU FEL SO SO UNEASY WITH ME, LET’S BREAK UP”

She screamed, pushed him away, left the office and slammed the door.

Everyone in ADA watched the drama with horrifying and surprising look since it was the first time they have seen the lovebirds (especially Y/n) to be in a fight. Thanks to Fukuzawa and Kunikida away for the meeting. If they were here, Dazai and Y/n will be reprimanded for not being professional in their workspace.

Dazai was shocked by his always sweet and lovely S/O out bursting but he suddenly realized that it was his fault, so he ran after her. Well, they aren’t the same universe with those Bollywood movies and Y/N is afraid of being cut off her salary, she didn’t run away far. Instead, she just visited Uzumaki café and ordered hot chocolate big cup to smoothen her tired mind and body. She sat down, closed her eyes and massaged her temples to relax the tensing nerves. Suddenly, the sofa sank, she felt warm, and a pair of warm hands hugged her warmly and securely. A soft kiss landed on her cheek.

It was Dazai.

A familiar fragrance of perfume soften her heart and she felt warm and wanted to cry, yell at him but she decided to ignore to get more affections and princess treatment.Dazai saw the token which was written “hot chocolate “on it and he realized it was her time of the month and she was clearly in pain, but she was trying really hard. He felt more guilty and remorse.

“Dear, I was wrong. I didn’t realize that I was hurting you. I am sorry”

“Go away “she pushed him but softly and gently.

Dazai sighed and lay down on the sofa, put his head on his S/O’s plump laps.

“What the hell are you doing? Get off me!”

“I am so sorry Y/N.” Dazai apologized again. Y/N knows this soft tone of his. He was really sorry and controlling himself not to cry. His gaze looked so painful and so regretful, so Y/n decided to forgive him. Actually, she also can’t be angry for too long. So, she gently rubbed her lover’s brown and silky hair and flick his forehead.

“Buy me hot chocolate and brownie and I’ll forgive you”

Dazai scoffed and nodded,

“As you wish”

''You are such a bully" She was tracing his face with her soft fingers'.

"But I still love you and I guess that’s the way things go"

[fatuismooches]

HII SMOOCHES OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AHH OKAY I GOTTA CALM DONW, uhm so can I request like Dottore and segments with fragile reader who went outside without telling them? I imagined that reader went out to the market to the park or shop and stuff, and Dottore or the segments were worried when they realized that the reader were gone so they went out to find reader and when they come back to the lab they scold the reader a little bit but it’s out of worries but the reader weren’t scared or afraid cause they think it’s cute how the segment or Dottore were scolding reader out of worries, I JUST THINK ITS CUTE SOMEHOW CAUSE DOTTORE AND THE SEGMENTS WERE SEEN AS A HEARTLESS PEOPLE BUT WHEN IT COMES TO READER TEHY DROPPED EVERYTHING FOR THEM, ANYWAYS I LOVE YOU SMOOCHES I HOPE YOUR DOING WELL BYE BYE💗💗💗

It had been an impossibly long time since you had to deal with your illness, but over time, there were times Dottore was able to stabilize your condition enough to allow you to enjoy normal things more easily. One such thing was leaving the lab to enjoy the beauty of Snezhnaya. Very simple, but so fun for you, who had been deprived of such things for so long. It had taken a long time for Dottore to be convinced to let you go, still cautious about your health, (now that was an understatement) but in the end, you won (of course). Always, there was a segment or one of your friends accompanying you though. But this time, Bina couldn't come to pick you up, and it seemed like all the segments were too busy to even bother - wrapped up in the middle of an experiment or meeting... well, this was an issue. You really wanted to go! You had plans! Well, maybe if you return quick enough they wouldn't notice? If they did... that's it, you'd just tell Zandy to tell them the situation. And you'd take lots of Fatui agents, yes, everything would be okay.

And it was great! You made it and had lots of fun by yourself and with Bina... exploring the frosty nation and picking up a few specific ingredients you wanted for some recipes. Very fun. Unfortunately for the group of blue-haired scholars back at the lab, nothing was okay. One worried segment had turned into two into three into all of them who were currently flipping the lab over to discover where you could have gone. For themselves and also before Prime terminates one of them for not watching you properly. (Zandy had fallen asleep for a nap before he could convey your words.) All while you were none the wiser.

After very much scoping out every inch of the huge lab and discovering you are actually gone, for once they manage to work together flawlessly and it takes them no time to start investigating and discovering your exact coordinates. You may have succeeded in escaping their radar for a little bit but, you can't underestimate their tracking skills.

When you're entering the carriage to go back home and the original Dottore is there inside waiting for you, you nearly lose your footing. Needless to say, you have a lot of explaining to do...

You can tell he isn't exactly angry at you, just a bit annoyed but out of worry for you. Yes, he can understand why you did it, but you still need to be more cautious than that! What if your condition acted up and no one could help properly? The long lecture from him and mostly the older segments is thoroughly embedded in your brain, and although you feel bad, you can't help but think it's cute, how much your crazy lovers care for you this much.

[ummmlife]

realistic nanami's d analysis

warnings! ; nsfw (kinda) , headcanons (obviously) ; educational 🤓☝️

as a nanamin simp i've been reading and hearing about nanami's 9 inches manhood all over the internet and, honestly?, that doesn't sound accurate to me

something that happens to people who like nanami a lot is that they portrait him like a white man and, consciously or unconsciously, i feel that the 9 inch thing has been motivated by that current of thoughts

that's why i've decided to make a long research about the male genitalia comparing the average sizes all over the world, asia and finally, japan

of course, i did not give him a micro penis, but please don't expect the king cobra between this man's legs

i stress again the fact that this is my opinion and if you don't agree... well, there's not much i can do about it :)

context ;

for us humans, diversity comes in different styles of things, perhaps no topic elicits as much curiosity, speculation, and even anxiety as the dimensions of the male reproductive organ: the penis. from ancient myths to contemporary media portrayals, societal fascination with penile size permeates cultural narratives worldwide. however, amidst the myriad myths and misconceptions lies a scientific inquiry into the fascinating variations of penile size across different populations and ethnicities.

so, repeat after me: not every hot man has a 9 inches long d– / jk

in a comprehensive analysis conducted in 2020, researchers examined studies on penis size and determined that the typical length of an erect penis ranges from approximately 12.9 cm( 5.1 inches) to 13.9 cm (5.5 inches.) They suggested that the actual average tends to lean towards the lower end of this spectrum. (King, 2020)¹.

Another study indicated that the length for a flaccid penis was 9.16 cm (3.61 inches). (Veale et al., 2015)².

and that is what i’m basing my analysis (headcanons) on.

let's take a look on this chart (of dubious origin):

in this one we can see and compare the different sizes of the male reproductive system in different countries. if we look at it, japan has an average of 13.56 cm (5.3 inches).

investigating more in detail the male population, i managed to find that the average penis size in japan is about: 13.56 centimeters (5.33 inches), with a diameter of 3.53 cm (1.39 inches) at the head and 3.19 cm (1.25 inches) at the shaft when it's erect. (日本人の平均ペニスサイズが明らかに! | TENGA FITTING(テンガフィッティング), n.d.)³

knowing all of this, let's get into the heart of the matter that concerns us today.

his size ;

i'm using using this essay for a reference (since my humble self does not own a peewee) (男性器の大きさについて|大東製薬工業株式会���, n.d.)⁴.

to keep it simple:

erected :

length; 13.73 cm (5.4 inches) ~ 15.37 cm (6 inches)

girth; 11.73 cm (4.6 inches) ~ 12.73 cm (5 inches)

flaccid :

length; 9.73 cm (3.8 inches)

girth; 9.37 cm (3.6 inches)

the shape ;

i imagine it with a base a bit wider than the head (it gives fat dick ohohoho) and slightly curved up, the foreskin is still there and the skin is more pigmented there (#967a68). i can imagine a notorious vein coming from the base to the tip from below. his glans is paler than the shaft (#aa8483) and when it gets stimulated it turns into a #c96c60 shade.

nuts! ;

how do i say this?

they look heavy, somehow. also notoriously asymmetrical, the left one hangs lower.

is the carpet matching the curtains? ;

no, and this is my personal headcanon since I like the idea of ​​kento bleaching his hair since high school, from dark brown to his blonde tone he all see now. but if you don't think the same, it's alright, it doesn't affect anything.

he's hairy, everywhere, yes i'm also talking about his butthole!!

but he like to keep the hair trimmed and nice, not a crazy jungle of hair, since he also like to keep his face clean. it is a routine procedure that he does once every one or two months, always using an electric shaver.

so if you plan to give him head (or eat his ass, idk and idc), please expect to feel his pubic hair tickling your nose

+ his buns ;

his glorious glutes are made of 90% pure muscle, it also look squared shaped.

amazing, wow.

sources ↓

anyway, you don't have to take everything i wrote literally or personally, nanami is a fictional character and it doesn't really matter what his penis should or could look like. if you imagine him differently, great, i do too lol, my brain is never going to imagine him with some exact measurements or shape

hope you enjoyed my little essay on nanaken's penis :) it's the first time in my life that i talk so much about cocks lol

bibliography ;

1. King, B. M. (2020). Average-Size Erect Penis: Fiction, Fact, and the need for Counseling. Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy, 47(1), 80–89. https://doi.org/10.1080/0092623x.2020.1787279

2. Veale, D., Miles, S., Bramley, S., Muir, G., & Hodsoll, J. (2015). Am I normal? A systematic review and construction of nomograms for flaccid and erect penis length and circumference in up to 15 521 men. BJU International, 115(6), 978–986. https://doi.org/10.1111/bju.13010

3. 日本人の平均ペニスサイズが明らかに! | TENGA FITTING(テンガフィッティング). (n.d.). 日本人の平均ペニスサイズが明らかに！ | TENGA FITTING（テンガフィッティング）. https://www.tenga.co.jp/special/fitting2012/

4. 男性器の大きさについて|大東製薬工業株式会社. (n.d.). Copyright (C) 2015 更年期障害・勃起不全・早漏のOTC医薬品は大東製薬工 All Rights Reserved. https://daito-p.co.jp/essay/penil_size.html

[alovesongtheywrote]

nightmare academia puts me through the ringer EVERY TIME and i love it

♥ Summary: in a few chapters, it's gonna get worse!! for now tho... In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, case stuff ensues and you prepare for heartbreak. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: cops. cops being terrible, cops exploiting the system, and cops shaming a woman for being a sex worker. also, violence, implied violence, and past violence.

♥ A/N: holy shit, this chapter is Very Long

♥ Word Count: 4885

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

In the weeks that followed, Spencer brought the BAU to you.  Of course, not everyone could make it.  Kate Callahan was off raising her children.  Penelope Garcia was the target of several  hitmen (whereas Frank was probably the target of a single hitman.  Massive difference.  Trust me.)  And Derek Morgan remained at Quantico with Garcia- so you really weren’t sure what to expect.  The agents you had the strongest feelings about were out of commission.  The last time you’d met his team it did not uh, how would you put it?  End well?  So you were- justifiably- a touch guarded.

That changed. Eventually.

It started with Adam.  

At that point in the investigation, local law enforcement had only shown your friend cruelty, distrust, and skepticism.  Honestly?  You were about to start biting people about it.  (Yeah, maybe it would have gotten you arrested, but at that point, you did not care.  At the very least, biting would make you feel productive.)  You were well and truly prepared for Spencer’s law enforcement team to behave in a similar manner to the local cops- and to be honest, you probably should have been.  Most Feds would carry that same suspicion and distrust, and if they didn’t they were probably faking it to try and get a confession.  

The BAU, however, are not most Feds.  For several reasons.  Either way, you were well and truly prepared to maul the next person who treated your friend like garbage, fed or otherwise.  There was never a need.

The BAU showed Adam basic decency.  They didn’t talk down to him or dismiss him as a demeaning stereotype- and yes, that was the barest of bare minimum, but it was still something.  While they regarded him with mild suspicion for the first like, two minutes, it only took the team that same two minutes to come to the conclusion that Adam was innocent.  After that, the BAU was just as dedicated to clearing Adam’s name as you were.

“Adam had an incredibly emotional response when we mentioned Frank,” Hotchner explained to the local detectives, “He’s genuinely devastated by what happened.  He couldn’t have done this.  Even if he did attack Frank, it wouldn’t have been a clinical hit.”

“Emotions tend to make things messy- we would have seen something much more personal, with more violence and more remorse,” Rossi added.

The detectives did not listen.  The detectives did not care.  

“I’d say a gunshot wound is pretty messy,” one laughed.

“Yeah,” another jumped in, “Try telling the vic’ that things aren’t messy.”

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming, but you didn’t stay entirely silent.  If the detectives weren’t going to give a shit on their own, then you were going to make them.

“Have you actually?” you asked, crossing your arms, “Have you spoken to the victim?”

“Eh, someone else got around to it,” the first detective asked, looking at his partner with the special kind of uncertainty that came with getting called out.

“Did you read the report, then?”

“Well, I’m on the case, aren’t I?”

“Answer the question, detective.”

In the telling silence that followed, Rossi had to turn away to hide his (failed) attempt to suppress a grin.  Hotchner looked proud, despite not knowing you very well.  Spencer looked like he might grab you by the waist and kiss you until you were out of breath.  He didn’t, though, for lots of reasons- his boss was there, he hadn’t asked you if you’d like to be kissed, there was more serious stuff to focus on, and like… you already looked fucking pissed.

The detectives just looked embarrassed.  

“I- uh.  I’ve skimmed it,” the first detective stuttered out.

“Yeah, cool, not good enough,” you nabbed the case file from a nearby desk and pressed it into the officer’s hands, “Consider reading the report.  You’ll find that the victim disagrees with you.”

Both detectives stared at the file as if they were seeing it for the first time- as if they were seeing a file for the first time.  You sighed.

“Detective, if I may ask, how much overtime have you put in on this case?”  the man in front of you blanched at your question.  You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so fucking angry, “Cool.  I thought so.”

“Ough,” Rossi winced with faux sympathy, “Overtime?  And you haven’t even read the case file?”

“Hey, we’ve been very busy these last few weeks!”

The second officer nodded, “Just last week, we had five break-ins in the downtown area.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” you turned to leave before doubling back, “But before I go, I need to ask- do you care about the wellbeing of the break-in vics the way you care about this case?  Do you care about all victims so dearly?  Or do you treasure their testimony the way you “treasure” the testimony in this case?”

“What?  What are you saying, what do you-”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume it’s the latter.”  

“What?  Okay, what the hell do you know about police work-!”

“They’re an expert criminologist,” Spencer said, seething slightly.

“Dr. Reid is right.  I know a thing or two about crime- and if I’m just gonna put it this way.  I’ve seen the data.  I’ve heard testimony from victims and offenders.  I know the local and nationwide statistics for unreported crimes.  You’re concerned about the victim hearing that his case isn’t messy?  Look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never told a victim that their situation- their serious situation- was a waste of police time.”

The officers couldn’t look at your face, much less your eyes.  You had done what you needed to do.

“You wanna solve crimes?  You wanna be the hero?  Then take a goddamned ethics class, read your fucking case files, care for your community, and do your fucking job.”

The detectives tried in vain to defend themselves.  They were unsuccessful- especially in the face of the three FBI agents that immediately backed you up.

“Dr. (L/N) is right.  The number of unreported crimes will astound you,” Rossi said, smirking like the little shit that we all know he is.

“This is especially prevalent with sexual assault cases, theft and scams, and other crimes where the victim may feel a sense of embarrassment- or crimes where the victim feels like their case won’t be taken seriously,” Spencer added in a very Spencer-like way.

“And everything you need to know about this crime is in the file.  If you’d read it, you’d know that the victim is very insistent that your guy didn’t do it, and one could say that, oh, I don’t know, he’s a strong eyewitness.  He is the victim and all,” Rossi continued, getting their asses.

They struggled to respond, “Well- I-  We-”

“And even if you discount the eyewitness testimony, there’s still the matter of alibis and ballistics.  Security cameras have placed Adam away from the community center at the time of the shooting.  The ballistics aren’t a match to any weapon that Adam has ever come into contact with.  Even if they were a match, he hasn’t handled a weapon since his release from prison as a condition of his parole.  But if you had checked the file, you’d know that,” Hotch added, also smirking like a little shit, but with a slight edge to it- that edge, kids, is called “pissed off authority figure.”

“Hey, it-”

“It just sounds like poor police work to me,” Spencer had the biggest smirk of all- the smirk of a little shit who’s proud of his team and of his hot co-professor, “Had you actually done any of your research, you would realize that the suspect you have in custody is being held on police bias and circumstantial evidence.  Any good lawyer can get this case thrown out, and then where will you be?”

His smirk turned to a full grin when you shot him a small smile of your own.

The detectives continued to sputter out responses.  For once, the second one spoke, “Now, we may not be fancy FBI agents, but this precinct has a solid track record of convictions-”

“Were those convictions based on circumstance and bias?” Neither detective answered Spencer’s question.  He continued, “Even if this precinct had a perfect track record, that wouldn’t make it invulnerable to mistakes- and even if it did, you would still have the responsibility of approaching each case like professionals to ensure the wellbeing of victims, suspects, and families.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” you slid forward, putting a hand on Spencer’s arm, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go speak with the victim.  His name is Frank, by the way.”

And just like that, you pulled Dr. Spencer Reid away- and he did not resist in the slightest.  In fact, he held the door open for you as you exited the precinct.  Rossi was pretty sure he saw the kid get behind the wheel.

As the detectives scurried away with their tails between their legs, the older agent let out a long whistle.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that our young Dr. Reid is officially smitten.”

“He was smitten the last time we were here,” Hotch said, pulling another copy of the case file from seemingly nowhere- one of his many unit chief powers.

“Yeah, yeah, but this time it’s bad.  Garcia’s gonna be mad that she didn’t get to see it.”

Hotch nodded, solemnly.

“Y’know, I think the three of them combined could probably take down the whole FBI.”

“You’re right,” Hotch snapped the file closed with a tiny little proud-dad-type smile, “We’re awfully lucky that they’re focused on something else at the moment.”

-

Missy got your guard to drop further.

Initially, she was hesitant to have the Feds drop in on Frank’s case- you both were.  You were used to local law enforcement treating her like shit.  You didn’t stand for it- every time a cop or lawyer so much as dared to look at her wrong, you bared your teeth like a damn dog and threatened to bite where it would hurt.  Y’know.  Lawsuits.  Missy wasn’t exactly a pushover, either.  She was one of the strongest people you knew, and you were well aware that she could hold her own.  If Missy wanted to be scary, she could be fucking terrifying.

Still, it was a little exhausting to fight all these battles against people in positions of authority who were so convinced that their series of events was correct, and anyone who went against it was nothing more than a lying ex-con.  Having the BAU in your pockets certainly helped with that.

“I already told you what happened.  I’ll tell you a thousand more times if I have to, but the story isn’t going to change,” Missy groaned, voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands.

“Okay, then.  We’ll go over your testimony again.  A few more times, if you don’t mind,” One of the local detectives smirked, ignoring the death glare you sent her way.

“Fine.  Frank was walking me to the community center.  I was taking a class on resume writing.  It was cloudy, not raining, but cold.  We came around the side of the building when a man in a leather jacket walked around the corner.”

“And what did this man do?”

“He- he shot Frank.  He tried to kill my-” she took a shaky breath.  You put a hand on her arm, aiming for gentle comfort and reassurance.  Missy nodded, letting you know you’d hit your target.

“Did you see his face?” The officer continued.

“No.  He was wearing one of those bike helmets that block off the person’s eyes- but I swear, it wasn’t Adam.  This guy was too bulky.  Adam’s made of wires, he needs to eat more.”

“You seem to have a lot of affection for Adam,” the detective leaned forward, “Now, we know you’ve claimed to be in a relationship with Frank- but could you describe your relationship with Adam for us?”

“I already said it!  I took a couple classes with him!  He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“Mhmm.  That’s all.  And in your previous line of work- the one that earned you a prison sentence of twelve months and a little over minimum wage- you had a lot of ‘friends,’ yes?”

“Excuse me?” your fingers bit into the table that separated you from the cop.  You had half a mind to jump over the thing and throttle the smug detective sitting before you.  

“What?” Missy growled, “You think just because I used to hook I fuck all my friends now?  I’ve taken a few classes with Doc (L/N), I haven’t fucked them!”

You nodded in solemn agreement.  The detective shrugged this off, ignoring everything that came out of Missy’s mouth.  When she spoke again, her voice rang with the faux pity of someone who held themselves leagues above Missy.

“You know, I can see why you were looking at writing up a resume- your old line of work is so degrading.  You know you’re never the same, afterwards.  You can never wash off the shame.  You’ll always be a little broken.  A little-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” you stood up, slamming your hands down on the table.

“Hey, fuck you, man-” Missy leaned forward, “Don’t tell me what hooking did to me.  You don’t know me.  You don’t fucking know.”

“And now you’re lashing out.  Poor thing-”

“Detective Foy.  A word,” Tara Lewis, a newer BAU agent who you hadn’t really had the pleasure of meeting materialized in the doorway like a perfectly timed ghost, ready to right some wrongs and keep you from committing a murder.  Her request for a word was perfectly intimidating, disclosing the not-so-secret secret that the request itself was not actually a request.  

“I’m sorry, Agent, I’m in the middle of an interrogation-” 

“It’s not an interrogation.  You’re questioning a witness.  Agent Jareau will handle things from here.  Now, a word?”

You and Missy watched as the detective slunk out of the room with her tail between her legs.  Moments later, JJ joined you, but she didn’t bother to start a line of questioning.  Instead, the three of you watched in giddy silence as Tara Lewis destroyed Detective Foy where she stood.  You couldn’t hear her through the glass, but you could vaguely read the words, “You are a police officer meant to serve and protect the people in your community, and uphold the law.  You should educate yourself on the law, and on what it means to serve and protect.”  On her lips.

You could’ve been off on that translation, but either way, it was sick as fuck.  By the time Tara was finished, you and Missy were barely holding back your laughter.  You probably would’ve held it in if JJ hadn’t turned around with a pleased grin on her face.

“Ok, well, I’ve known Agent Lewis for about three minutes, and already I adore her,” you cackled.

“Oh, she’s excellent,” Missy said, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Well, we certainly like her,” Jennifer grinned, clearly proud of her teammate and happy to see that someone outside the BAU had taken notice.

A few moments later, Tara re-entered the room with a tired sigh on her lips.  It didn’t take her long to realize that you were all staring right at her.

“What?  What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, we just think, as a group,” you looked around like you were the leader of the world’s weirdest (and maybe coolest?) group project, “That you are, objectively, excellent.”

“Yep.  Not bad for a Fed.”

Again, you nodded in agreement, “I concur.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “Thank you?”

Missy gave Tara a thumbs up.  You followed her lead.  Not really knowing what else to do in this situation, and figuring there was no harm in joining the madness, Tara returned the thumbs up.

“Well, like we said, we’ll take over the questioning from here,” JJ took a seat as she spoke.  Tara joined her at the table.

“So, after Frank was shot, did you see where the attacker went?”

“No.  I was kind of focused on my partner bleeding on the ground.”

“That’s fair- but try to think back.  Did you see anything in your peripheral vision?  Did you hear anything?”

Missy paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, she still sounded lost in thought, “I heard a bike.  It makes sense with the helmet- I think it might’ve been a Yamaha?”  

“Wait, you can tell which brand a bike is by the sound?” you asked, not disbelieving Missy, but distracted by the new knowledge that a person could do such a thing.

“If you let me think about it, I could probably give you the make and model.”

“Holy shit, really?” your eyes were wide.  Your expression betrayed just how bewildered and impressed you were by vehicle knowledge.  It might’ve been basic knowledge, but fuck it, the author can’t drive.

“Oh, absolutely- different bikes make different sounds.  Cars are similar,” Tara nodded her agreement.

“You can tell cars apart by their sounds!?”

“Yeah?  Can’t you?” Missy turned to face you, slightly bemused.

“I can tell that they’re old?  Or like, electric, I guess?”

“Okay, when this is all over, I’m giving you a lesson.”

“I’d like to get in on that,” Tara added.

“Excellent!” Missy smiled, “Now everyone shut up and let me think.”

-

The way the BAU treated Frank dragged your guard down further.  They were gentle, but not dehumanizing or infantilizing.  They just treated him like a human person, and you found that neat, and more importantly, Frank found that neat.  

Also, the BAU laughed at Frank’s anecdotes and jokes.  I will be fully honest.  That was more of a relief to you, especially because a decent chunk of those anecdotes and jokes were about you murdering the shit out of Spencer Reid using nothing but your words.

It really started on that very first day, when you and Spencer had gone to visit Frank.  He could see it from his hospital bed- Spencer’s hand on your shoulder, the way Spencer was very clearly trying to comfort you from some unknown upset, and that was it.

Frank said, “Wow.  Those two have sure come a long way from Doc telling him to go die in a ditch.”

And JJ, who had been questioning him, choked on her coffee and wheezed out a, “What?”  

And that was pretty much it.  Frank explained that Spencer had pissed you off, you’d hit him with the “die in a ditch” thing, and he looked so sad that you literally forgave him the next day.  (He left out the bit about the stabbing, because stabbing doesn’t just kill people, it kills moods.)

From then on, Frank was the premium source of gossip on you and Spencer.  Of course, Missy got in on it, too.

When they told Rossi about the time you’d called Reid a “shit-licking asshole fed,” the agent laughed so hard that he literally couldn’t speak for a solid minute.  Was he a big fan of the anti-fed talk?  Not particularly.  But you had gone at it with such gusto, and with such anger, that he couldn’t help but cackle.  

You knew none of this, but you knew that everyone involved seemed happier after the BAU took the case.  That was good enough for you.

-

Your guard fell because of Spencer.

Wasn’t that always the way this was going to go?

While the BAU took care of your friends, Spencer took care of you.  He made sure you got home safe.  He kept you in the loop about everything case-relevant.  He made sure you remembered to eat, which was kind of hypocritical of him, but oh well.  He offered to drive you to and from the hospital, which was a fun kind of hell, because the man obeyed every traffic law ever made, but you got to bully him for it, so it all evened out in the end.  He distracted you from the nightmare you were living through by offering fun facts.  He made the nightmare better just by being him.  

And he was the one to get Adam out.  

He didn’t announce this victory to you.  He just showed up one day, at the hospital, following behind Adam as the newly freed man burst into Frank’s room.

“Frank!  Hey, are you good man?  I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I would’ve been, but you know how it is with cops.”

“Shit, dude,” Frank beamed, “All things considered, I’m not too bad.”

“Holy shit, Adam?” you let out a hospital-appropriate screech.

“Oh my god,” Missy stood from her place at Frank’s bedside to give him a hug.  For a moment, she held him so tightly that it looked like Adam legitimately couldn’t breathe.

The moment she saw Spencer lingering in the background, she switched from one wire-shaped man to the next.  Spencer hugged her back politely, and then, in an instant, she was onto you.

“You sons of bitches did it!  You actually did it!”

“Did we?” you asked Spencer, lowering your voice as Missy, Frank, and Adam enjoyed their reunion.

“We did,” Spencer confirmed, stepping closer to you until you were side to side, whispering to each other to avoid disturbing your friends, “We found bank statements proving that this was a targeted hit, unrelated to Adam.  We’ve only been able to find the unsub’s side so far, but it won’t take us long to find whoever contracted him.” 

“Shit- that’s both really good and mildly fucking terrifying.”

“I know,” Spencer answered almost too quickly, but he covered it up just as fast, “But it means that Adam is a free man.  It’s almost over, (Y/N).”

You let out a small exhale, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “Almost.  Thank you, Spence.  For all of this, for everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me.  It wasn’t just the new evidence.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, there was this local criminology professor, maybe you’ve heard of them.  They were incredibly insistent that law enforcement look deeper into the case, and because of them, the conviction vanished.”

A smile slipped onto your face as you turned to face him, “Was that a joke, Spence?  You’re doing ha-ha funny jokes now?”

“I’m saying you did a good thing, here, (Y/N).  Look,” he nodded towards the hospital bed, where your friends were talking, beaming, clinging to each other’s hands like they’d been shot, traumatized, and separated for months- which was an accurate summary, actually.

At your side, you let your hand slip into Spencer’s, weaving your fingers between his slender ones.  You felt his grip tighten, his palm pressed tightly to yours.  His hands were warm.

“We did a good thing,” you whispered.

You pulled him closer by the hand.  You weren’t harsh or forceful, but Spencer still stumbled into you with what can only be described as a somewhat lovestruck grin on his face.

And then his phone rang.

You watched his face fall as he answered it.  His fingers drifted away from yours.  You could almost hear Hotchner’s voice on the other end.  The call only lasted a few moments, but it changed everything.  The air in the room grew heavy.  The room fell silent.

“We found the unsub.  My team is confronting him now, I-” he paused.

“They want you to go with them.”

“I have to.”

A shaky breath escaped your lungs, and you were kinda pissed at it- how dare that shaky breath reveal how you actually felt?  How dare it break free from your body, alerting Spencer that your world had just spun out sideways for the millionth time that week.

You were gonna square up with that fucking breath.

But first, without saying another word, you nodded towards the door.  Spencer nodded back.  Like that, he was gone.  You watched him go.  You stared at the empty doorway after he’d left.   The room remained silent.

I mean, it did until it didn’t- your friends couldn’t watch that and say nothing.  I don’t think anybody could.

“Holy shit, you’re just gonna let him leave without saying goodbye?” Adam asked, looking between you and the door so quickly that you were almost surprised that his head didn’t fly off.

“He’s down bad,” Frank whispered, nodding in agreement, “Go get him.”

“I- he’s gonna be back in five minutes,” you tried to reason.  It didn’t work.

“He could be back never!  He might die!” Missy ran forward, gripping your shoulders.

“He’s got a bulletproof vest-”

“THERE IS SO MUCH THOSE THINGS DON’T COVER!!” Missy progressed to shaking you, slightly, “Go get him!  Hurry, before it’s too late!”

“I really don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Tell him you’re also down bad!” Frank exclaimed, no longer whispering.

“Down bad-?  What the fuck does that even mean,” you said, your voice growing quieter and quieter as you left the room and headed down the hallway.

“... Y’know, they taught me what ‘down bad’ means.”

“Same.”

As your friends continued to discuss, you were already halfway down the hallway, walking as fast as you could given the hospital setting.  Spencer was nowhere to be seen and you really didn’t have time to look.  You really had one choice.  The elevators.

You reached them just in time to watch that lanky noodle motherfucker step inside.

Giving up on decorum, you raced through the hospital corridor, yelling out apologies at every human person you passed- fortunately there weren’t too many, so it wasn’t like you caused a massive disturbance.  Most people just thought you were having your rom-com finale moment.  Maybe some part of you was trying to, but honestly, you weren’t really thinking about it.  You were mostly just thinking, “Shit, shit, shit, I have to get in that elevator.”

And you did!  You made it!  You stumbled through the doors and came to a stop in the middle of that tiny box.  Spencer reached out to steady you, his expression letting you in on his amused confusion.  You smiled up at him, trying not to pant- and then you came to a realization.

You had no fucking clue what the hell you were going to say.

To be fair, what the fuck is a person supposed to say in that situation?  “Heyyyy, my friends think I’m in love with you, so now I’m here, wanna talk about that before you head into a dangerous situation involving a hitman and many guns?”

Or perhaps, “Hey!  You’re a good person even though I keep insisting you aren’t one, so I want you to know that you’re a good person before I send you off to get murdered!”

Or maybe, “You’re hot, I’m hot, wanna spend the next thirty seconds doing terrible things to this elevator that will get us forcibly removed from this hospital?”

Or even, “Hi, you just did a really nice thing for my friends, and I really appreciate it, and even though I don’t express it, I do care about you a lot, so maybe don’t die in the next few hours.  For me.  Please.”

In the end, you just settled for, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Spencer replied, not taking his hands from your shoulders even though you were more than steady, “Is everything okay?”

“Okay?  Yeah,  yeah, everything is, um.  Everything’s fine.  I just-”  you froze again, because seriously, what the fuck could you say right then and there?  What could you say that would let him know everything you wanted him to know?

“Are you sure?” he looked at you, held you with such delicate concern.  You kind of wanted to partake in elevator ruining activities with Spencer until the two of you got kicked out of the hospital together. 

“Yeah- yeah!  Everything’s- I’m okay, it’s just,” you raised your hand, letting it hover between the two of you for a moment before you placed it over one of his, “Come out of this alive.  Make sure everyone else does, too, but… come out of this okay, okay?”

Spencer hesitated.  And then he wrapped his hand around yours and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles ever so briefly.

“I will.  I promise.”

The elevator bell dinged.  You’d reached the parking lot.  Spencer let go of your hand with a different kind of hesitation.  

“I’ll see you soon,” he offered, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Spencer disappeared into the parking lot, dashing out of sight and into danger.  You stood there, watching until the elevator doors slid shut and that infernal box pulled you back up again.  The humming metal lights above and the clanking metal around you harmonized into the perfect soundscape for your empty mind.

Spencer was heading into danger, as he always did.  You were returning to serve your community, as you always did.  Spencer might not come back, and you would always remain, and you realized that when the case was over, he would go back to Quantico with the BAU, and you probably wouldn’t see him ever again.

And it broke your heart a little bit.  Maybe more than a little bit.  A little bit, perhaps.

You were a long way from, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die,” indeed.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @logicalhorror if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

[attorney-ramblings]

Okay, I have a fic concept living rent free in my head.

Miles has been helping Phoenix deal with the aftermath of his disbarment since the beginning, he pulled every string and called in every favor he could, and still nothing could be done.

He tried to assure Wright that things would work out eventually, that they would prove he’d been tricked. Wright had adamantly refused to have Trucy testify on his behalf, to lay the blame on her. Miles disagreed with the decision but didn’t push him on it, she was only a child after all.

As time passes, Phoenix struggles to make ends meet. He needs to go out and get a job but he can’t just leave Trucy alone in the apartment for his long hours. Upon hearing this, Miles reluctantly offered to watch her. He had not intended it to become a regular occurrence.

Yet here he was, slowly coming to adore the sweet and spirited girl. She was well behaved, and all around delightful. Of course she was a child still and sometimes he found her getting herself into trouble around the Prosecutor’s Office, however he’d never needed to scold her about something more than once.

He was careful about where he took her, often avoiding having her ever come near a crime scene. Whenever he had to go out investigating he would have Detective Gumshoe watch her for the hour or so he needed to get what was necessary.

Other than those times the girl was right by her side at all times, she asked a lot of questions when they were alone, about what was happening in the case. It was an interesting exercise for him, trying to explain the case to a child, he spared her any of the more gruesome details of course. He wouldn’t be held responsible for traumatizing her.

However, trying to explain the complex motivations of the human psyche for crime in a easily digestible manner had actually been a relatively helpful exercise.

Other times when talking to witnesses, she was mostly quiet, but sometimes she even landed up being helpful. Sometimes noticing speech patterns and little ticks that he would’ve otherwise overlooked. She was also amazingly emotionally intelligent, she covered for an area he was weak in, comforting others.

He had more than once, left the room for a moment to grab something just to come back and find her sitting next to a witness, them tearing up and suddenly ready to talk.

It was honestly incredible to him, and he found himself hopelessly enamored by this precious little girl. Phoenix often complained about how he spoiled her rotten, but he frankly couldn’t care less. It was payment for helping him with his work.

It was a few months after this pattern had started, and Trucy was skipping along behind him as usual. He needed to speak to a detective, so he was down at the station. A particularly peculiar case had just been set into motion and he needed more information.

Trucy wasn’t the type to wander off on her own, that had been a strict rule he’d implemented when he’d started bringing her with him places. She’d always been good about it, only ever getting lost in the madness once.

When he looked around and saw she was nowhere to be seen, he panicked. They were in a police station, surely she was safe, she had to be.

Except, often Police stations are filled with nearly as many criminals as officers, who knew what might happen if one broke out of their handcuffs.

It didn’t take him terribly long to find her thankfully, he heard crying in the distance, when he followed the sound, it seemed to be the voice of a child. Down a hallway and into a conference room, that was when he finally caught sight of her again.

Miles nearly shouted, he was sorely tempted to scold her for scaring him like that. However the moment he processed what he was looking at, the words died on his lips.

Trucy was sitting next to another little girl, she seemed slightly older than her, but only by a year or two. She wore her bright auburn hair in a side pony and she was sobbing, hysterically panicking.

Miles was all too familiar with that particular kind of terror, he made eye contact with the officer in the room and gestured for them to come closer.

“Prosecutor Edgeworth, I was a little worried when I saw your girl walk in here alone, everything alright?” The officer asked, she was a middle aged woman who mostly worked filing and desk jobs. She was always in the precinct, so she often saw them here.

He nodded curtly, “She walked off on her own while I was taking care of something, I’ll have a talk with her. I’m just glad she didn’t leave the station.” He looked back over to the two girls, Trucy was hugging her from the seat beside the the auburn haired girl. Trucy had given the girl her cape to wrap around her for comfort, and she was clutching it tightly and mumbling to herself softly.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She always seems to know when someone’s upset, makes it hard to be angry with her.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall for a moment. “Who’s the other girl?”

“Athena Cykes, the daughter of that astronaut that got murdered by the prosecutor. Surely you’ve heard about it… we don’t really know what to do with her. She has distant relatives from Europe we’re attempting to contact, but there’s some sort of hang up in the communications. It’s taking longer that we expected it to.” She sighed. “She’ll probably have to stay at the precinct tonight, I already offered to keep an eye on her. Poor thing.”

Miles did know the case, in fact it was the one he had just been assigned. Prosecutor Simon Blackquill confessed to the murder of Metis Cykes, the girl being the daughter of the victim.

Trucy finally seemed to realize his presence there and jumped in her seat, she scampered over to him and hugged his leg. “Uncle Miles! I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I run off, you just looked busy and I wanted to help her…”. She spoke softly for a child, clearly trying to be mindful of the young Miss Cykes.

“Miss, is ‘Thena really going to have to stay here overnight?” She asked the officer, looking deeply concerned.

“Sorry Lil Missy, that’s the way it has to be. She hasn’t got anywhere else to stay. Protocol would have us looking after her until she’s either put under the care of extended family or the foster system.” She explained, and Trucy glanced over her shoulder at the girl again. She had quieted down a little after Trucy gave her cape to the girl. When her gaze returned to Miles there were tears in her eyes.

“It’s so loud here though! ‘Thena has really sensitive ears, she usually wears these headphones when she goes out in public that her momma made for her. If she doesn’t then she gets overwhelmed really easily, and she doesn’t have them! She doesn’t even go to school at all because of it, even with the headphones.” Trucy had her fists at her sides and her mouth pressed in a determined line, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She can’t stay here Uncle Miles!”

The officer blinked, “She told you all that?”

Trucy nodded emphatically. It didn’t surprise Miles in the least… he looked over to the quiet trembling girl. He couldn’t help but see himself in her, traumatized, alone, having all of his decisions made for him by adults he didn’t know or trust. If what Trucy was saying is true, then.

He sighed.

“Trucy, stay with her. I’m going to see what I can do.”

[captain-aralias]

someone commented yesterday on my 8th year mpreg that i didn't finish because i had a baby 2 weeks early (a year and a half ago!) (he's still alive - all is well).

and i thought, after reading this comment:

OK, it's time to put the bits that i didn't finish on the internet!!

because i will PROBABLY never finish this fic at this point. but who knows? but also probably not. if you are reading this fic and you would like to finish it, crack on. get in touch. i will help you!

here's the stuff i didn't finish. it's about a thousand words, some cut scenes from chapter 1 and a rough plan for the rest. 👇👇

Chapter 2: Second Trimester

SIMON

Surprisingly, Penelope agrees with Baz about the wedding.

“Magicians are always claimed by their families,” she told me after I’d explained what had happened with Baz. And his mum. And after she’d asked a lot of questions. (Fortunately, I’d already told her about the Humdrum, and that Baz and I had slept together, but it was still a lot to take in.) “There are loads of spells that only work for people with the same name,” she explained. “Magickal objects that only work if they’re passed down through the family. And of course, the Pitches would want to keep an eye on someone with their blood. A lot of magicians have historically been killed by their own relatives.”

“You mean, for power?” I suggested.

“Often,” Penny agreed. “But also, because no one can hurt you like your own family.”

She’s been looking into wedding magic ever since. Baz has been helping her. And then, once she’s finally gone back to her own room, he helps me with the investigation into his mum’s death. 

I thought that would be terrible, but it’s all right working with Baz. Good, even. He’s got an organised mind. And he knows I’m always hungry – especially now – so he brings food up from the kitchen before we start. Unfortunately, we haven’t got much further. We still don’t know who Nicodemus is or why anyone would want to hurt Headmistress Pitch, besides the obvious. But Penny’s made good progress. Last week, she qualified as a magickal officiant. This week, they chose the binding spells. 

She and Baz also decided where the wedding would take place. It has to be somewhere significant to both of us – and our relationship. I suggested our room. 

Baz disagreed. “You’re not even trying,” he told me, like he thought I should put more effort into our marriage of convenience. 

Neither of us wanted to go back to Lancashire, for obvious reasons. And Baz already rejected the Catacombs. So, I said it was fine when he suggested the Wavering Wood. At least, it’s close. 

I’m regretting it now. Now I’m standing outside in the middle of a forest at midnight – because, of course, it has to be midnight – freezing my bollocks off while Penny conjures an altar out of a rock. 

Baz is at my side, looking cool and unruffled. He’s dressed for the weather: in a long dark coat and leather gloves. It’s all very Sexy Vampire. I keep catching dryads sneaking looks at him, then ducking away when I scowl at them. 

“Will you stop fidgeting?” he hisses as I try wrapping my arms over my chest and shift my weight again. “You don’t want to be here. Message received.”

I sigh and drop my arms. “It’s not that.” 

Baz looks surprised. “It’s not?”

I shake my head, although admittedly I don’t want to be here. Now. In the Wood – I’d prefer to be in our room – but I don’t want him to think I’m upset about marrying him when I’m actually OK with it. It’s only a ceremony, isn’t it? We’ve already had sex. We’re already having a baby. 

When you think about it, this is basically a repeat of the time we became roommates. Well, except that this time, there’s a bit at the end where we’re supposed to kiss. I don’t mind that, though. I think I might even be looking forward to it. I think I’d have kissed Baz again before this if I thought he wanted me to. If he ever looked at me the way he did back in Lancashire, instead of sneering in a way that makes it clear that he has no idea how we ended up in this situation. 

He's not sneering now, though. He’s just confused. 

“I’m cold,” I tell him. 

Baz frowns. I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “You don’t get cold.”

He’s right. Or at least, he should be. I can’t really control my body temperature anymore. I keep forgetting. I borrowed a suit from Gareth earlier (I told him I had a funeral to go to) and I’m not wearing a coat. Now parts of me I doubt Baz wants to hear about are aching. 

“I think it’s a pregnancy thing,” I say, sort of grimacing because saying things like that makes me feel like an arse. I’m not even sure I’m right. I haven’t read any pregnancy books, I haven’t had time – I just wish my nipples didn’t hurt. 

Baz grimaces too, though kind of … sympathetically, I think. 

“I see.” 

He looks down at his hands and pulls of his gloves. At first, I think he’s going to give them to me – which wouldn’t help, even if they actually fit – but instead he tucks them under his elbow and brings his palms together.

“Here.” 

There’s an outraged huff from the trees as a small, hot flame appears between his hands. Dryads hate fire – this one will’ve gone right off Baz. (Good, I think. He’s about to be off the market, anyway.)

He holds the fire out to me. “Take it.” 

I stare at him. “Huh?”

Baz scowls. “It won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It wasn’t. I just don’t know how to keep fire going the way Baz can. It either goes out or… it doesn’t. I might not be a fan of the Wavering Wood anymore, but I don’t want to burn it down either. Especially not while I’m in it. And Penny. And Baz is a vampire, he’s flammable. (Can Baz be burnt by a flame he started? I don’t want to find out. This baby needs two parents.) 

Before I can explain myself – Baz never lets me explain myself – he’s taking my hand in one of his, holding the fire in the other. I almost pull back. But … I don’t. I have to trust him. 

I let him drop the little flame onto my palm and it burns 

NOTES (what do they mean? in some cases, even i don't know, but i thought 'oliver' was a fun name for baby as it's simon's original middle name from fangirl without being an obvious reference like - 'davy' or 'jamie' or some ridiculous pitch bullshit)

Backstory – magic is too precious

telling Penny, she thinks its sensible. But weird. 

Baz spells it warmer. No actual ceremony. 

BAZ

Comes back from hunting. 

Sex

SIMON

Napping – Baz and Penny solving the mysteries 

BAZ

They work out the Humdrum hasn’t attacked. 

Carrying to bed

Actual husband / Simon, I am your actual husband.

Summon – backstory from Humdrum, your dad, Simon’s pumping magic into the baby 

SIMON

Confronting the Mage?

He’s like – Simon, this is weird, Malcolm Grimm just wrote to me about taxes, wants to help fight the Humdrum. Simon shouting at him. 

BAZ

“I’m going to be a terrible father.”

Baz tells him he was the Chosen One – wished for a way to end this.

Maybe more sex?

SIMON

Oliver.

cut scenes/different variations - usually i offer some editorial on what this is and why i cut it, but we're so far in the future now folks. again, who knows? i think i cut most of these because they were boring and facewithoutheart's eight months is all about being zippy

“You know when we––”

I nod. I don’t need him to say it, I was there. (We had sex. It was good, until it wasn’t. Until Snow realised who he’d slept with and what that meant for the relationship he actually cares about.)

“Well.” Snow’s looking at his feet now. At the ceiling. Anywhere but at me. “Something … happened after that.”

I imagine quite a few things did. I was kidnapped by numpties, for a start. And kept in a coffin for six weeks. (I doubt that’s what Snow’s referring to.) 

“I mean, because of that,” he says. “Also, the Veil lifted––”

“What?” This isn’t what I expected.

“While you were gone,” Snow says. “Your mum–– I wrote it down. But I left my bag in the hall, fuck. Anyway, she––”

He’s still not looking at me, so it takes him by surprise when I grab him and shove him back against the stone wall of the corridor. 

That gets his attention. His eyes flare with anger. “Baz.”

“What about my mother?”

“Let me go first,” Snow growls. 

I don’t have to do it. I’m much stronger than him and he would talk, eventually. I’ve riled him up enough that he 

//

I’m not going to do that.

Snow’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted – or close enough. What’s there to think about? What am I doing here? 

I need to tell him I agree with him before he changes his mind. 

//

SIMON

Baz isn’t in Greek. 

That bothers me – although at least I know where he is this time. (Screaming into a pillow probably. Or throwing himself into the moat.) Obviously, I knew he’d be upset – why wouldn’t he be? But I didn’t think he’d be so upset he’d miss more school. He only just got back. 

I’m not expecting to see him in Magic Words, which is our next period, and I don’t. But he’s waiting for me outside the classroom door once the bell goes for morning break. 

“Finished processing?” I ask him. 

“Have you?” Baz retorts, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. (It would’ve been no. I haven’t finished. I’ve barely even started.) 

//

Miss Possibelf says it’s good to have him back.

“It’s good to be back,” Baz says. 

“What does that mean?” I say, even though I’m not in the conversation. 

Baz sighs. “What do you think it means, Snow?” 

But that’s just it – I don’t know. Is he just happy 

//

“Simon,” Penny hisses next to me. “Your magic.”

Now she’s said something I can smell it. Thick smoke. Suffocating. I can see other kids looking at me. Baz turns in his seat to look at me, too. For once he isn’t sneering. (He looks nicer when he’s not sneering. He looks nice. Too thin, but nice. We’ll have a really good-looking baby if it takes after him.)

Miss Possibelf asks me if I need to step outside. 

“No,” I say. “I’m good.” 

I can’t risk being thrown out right now. What if Baz gives me the slip after class? 

[populousgraph]

So... Thsc oc! Yay!

(This is an info dump about Devin, so it might get pretty long...)

Okay, so! It all started when two Toppat members loved each other very much and had a baby. Which was Devin! They took care of him until he was 8 or 9 when they took him on a mission and ended up getting killed in front of him.

With no one to care for him, the Toppat Leaders (Reginald and RHM) decided to take him in and raise him as it says above on his card.

He turned out to be one of the best Toppats in the clan (obviously), but he was also very reckless. He would often rush into things without a plan and end up succeeding by a pure miracle.

Devin is also pretty lighthearted and cocky with him facing his issues with a smile and joke.

Well, what are his relationships with Reginald and RHM?

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

Reginald:

They have a close bond with Reginald being Devin's go-to for emotional support. Reginald shows his affection and concern for Devin a lot more openly. He's usually the one to fuss over him when he ends up doing something dumb that got him injured. He also taught Devin how to use swords with both hands, one he was old enough. (I read a fanfiction where Reginald knew how to fight with swords, and I thought it fit so well for his character.)

Right Hand Man:

RHM is a lot more subtle with his relationship with Devin but is not neglectful. They've spent enough time together that Devin knows that RHM cares for him just as much as Reginald does. He shows his affection and concern through his actions more than words, and it is the one to patch up Devin after he does something stupid. They like to train together by fighting one on one which is Right's favorite style of fighting.

(He's also pals with Burt, Carter (my oc), and Cathat (friend's oc), but I can always expand on that later if you're REALLY interested.)

What's he like during different endings, you ask?

Well since you asked!

Government Supported Private Investigator:

Devin doesn't show up on screen really for this ending, and instead has more offscreen importance.

When the government came to arrest the leaders and most of the clan, Devin fought his hardest to stop it but didn't succeed, which got a lot arrested. He also lost his arm in the airship crash and was taken by remaining Toppats to help him survive.

Once his injury was taken care of and he woke up, he was made the new leader. Of course, he took the position, but he wasn't ready for it. His main goal after this ending was to break the previous leaders out of prison. (Also, he gets a cool cybernetic prosthetic. Aw, like father like son.)

Pure Blooded Thief:

Devin isn't really on screen for this one either and really only shows up at the end with the leaders. Right wants to do something about Henry stealing the Ruby, and Devin is on board with it, but Reginald talks them both out of it. They all escape, but now they really don't like Henry.

Rapidly Promoted Executive:

Devin is on screen more as he runs with Reginald while Henry chases them down. (He would've been with RHM to fight with Henry, but he was told to go with Reg and who is he to disobey Right?)

Anyway, after Right is defeated and Henry tries to get Reginald, he's tackled to the ground and stopped by Devin. So they fight it out while Reg tries to get help. (I have fails and a success for this part, but I'll save that for another time.) Henry finally gets advantage over Devin and slams him into the wall, which knocks him out.

Of course, there's the whole betraying government thing, and Henry becomes leader. Devin is not happy with it...

Relentless Bounty Hunter:

Same thing as the previous ending, but this time, once Devin woke up and found out about it, both him and Right were rightfully pissed about it. Both of them become a terror to the government and work together to get that space station up in orbit so they can go break Reginald out.

(I might talk more about the Completing the Mission endings, but this is already long, and I have no idea how interested people will be in this guy. 🥲)

[0w0tsuki]

I think it's important to note Death of the Author and Authorial Intent when discussing the transness of Chihiro from daganronpa. I've talked about it in reblogs but I wanted my own post. A lot of people confuse the two and in the case of old school Chihiro transmisoginists purposely create a new definition.

People seem to be under the impression that death of the impression a lot of the time that Death of The Author means "If I don't like what the author has to say I can just ignore it and say it didn't happen or Miku wrote it or something" which is a true statement but it's not the definition. And people who still comment "him*" on any fan post that uses she/her for Chihiro in 2024 define Authorial Intent as "The creator of every work writes with a specific intent and if you disagree with anything the author says you are WRONG and NOT a TRUE fan!" which not only isn't true but doesn't account for if the author's vision is even worth defending.

This is why there was such a nuclear meltdown over Bridget's trans confirmation and why it took them so long to get out of the translation conspiracy retcon bad ending phase before they moved on to trying to co-opt leftist language to make it about "femboy representation". Because it was the first time the author of one of their darling femboys didn't agree with them and they couldn't use "facts don't care about your feelings" to harass trans positive people.

But actually Authorial Intent is just a term to refer to "what did the author mean when they wrote this?" and is actually a part of Death of the Author which means "No matter what the Author says they approach every work with their own biases and that affects the work. So in order to understand the work you must understand the author so you can understand how their worldview bleeds into the work."

When people talk about Death of the Author in reference to H.P. Lovecrafts racism they don't mean "Well HP was a racist so you can just ignore him and write Cuthulu however you want." they mean "HP's racism is very prevalent in his works and viewing how he describes the monsters in his world gives insight to the times prejudices.". HP's works are actually a very effective tool in learning how bigotry affects horror.

Now to see where I'm going here is that Kodaka is a massive transmisogynist. Not only is there everything that is going on in DR1 chapter 2, but there's also his newest work which depicts a male character who dresses up as a girl for the explicit purpose of tricking girls to and sexually take advantage of them, there's Sakura who's in the same game as Chihiro whose character design the Spikechunsoft team initially didn't approve of but Kodaka got through under the guise of "body positivity" only to turn around and make her the butt of "woman who is ugly because she looks like a man" jokes for the entirety of her screentime, hell the only character who ever displays any positivity for trans women (which is transmed at best) is Tenko Cabashira who herself is a standin for Kodaka's misogynistic/lesbiphobic idea of "Man Hating feminazi Dyke".

Chihiro is a trans woman not because the work literally says she is which is what the criteria is for transmisogynists. She's a trans woman because she represents what trans women are to Kodaka. To Kodaka they are at best confused boys who just don't know that they are "allowed to be feminine", at neutral they are good jokes to get a quick laugh, at worst they are predators who prey on young girls, and anyone who supports them is a raging feminazi who probably grew up in a cave.

It's why after we had the incredible uncomfortable corpse investigation every student automatically switched to he/him without so much as a discussion to how Chihiro would want to be referred is because to the author there is no discussion. To the author your genitals are your gender (See also the "transmed at best" Tenko final FTE where will be cool with Suichi as long as he becomes a girl which of course involves getting The Surgery™) and Chihiro's genital reveal is instead this harsh truth of reality that the characters are supposed to feel exposed and lied to about, even the character who is the target of Kodaka's transmisogynistic humor.

This is why it requires a real stretch of the imagination to pull Transmasc Chihiro out of this story because Chihiro is not barred from masculinity in any way, shape, or form. Masculinity is actually expected of her and she is punished with bullying for not performing it. Chihiro does not feel pressure to present feminine, Chihiro is pressured to perform masculinity and her feminine presentation is written as an easy escape from that expectation. Because to Kodaka, Chihiro represents the trans women he views as failed men whose motivation for transitioning is a convenient escape from having to meet the rigorous standards of toxic masculinity. When the secrets are threatened to be revealed, Chihiro does not pursue masculine presentation out of some desire to finally be seen as a man, but out of desperation to not be seen as weak and exploitable when her secret is exposed.

I don't know how to segway from that into this so I'm just going to say. The next time some femboy fascist tries to butt their heads in to "Um Akctually" about a trans woman's existence do not attempt to argue "well actually she IS a trans woman in canon" because unless the character in question is specifically Bridget Guilty Gear, chances are the author is going to be on their side. And even in the case of Bridget, the ones that are still arguing for "canon femboy" Bridget are the ones who never moved on from the mistranslation conspiracy stage of denialism. No amount of pointed official interviews, dialogue, or official wikis is going to convince them because in their mind Daiuske is a turbocuck who is either capitulating or has been brainwashed by the woke West and has forcefully taken the reins to retcon the true author's authentic vision.

If you're going to engage with them which by the way I don't recommend you doing. But let's just pretend you have to. Let's just pretend you're a popular YouTuber which never presented that you have progressive views who unknowingly drew in these people into your fanbase who had a very vocal transmisogynistic reaction to a transfem headcannon. So in this completely imaginary scenario you need to challenge them on their transmisogyny. Ask them why the "correct" interpretation of the work is worth defending and harassing people over.

As the Bridget denialism has shown, these people are VERY dependent on the work agreeing with them because it allows for them to argue correctness without having to deal with such silly little complications as "morals" or "values". They are completely unequipped to defend their transmisogyny because they are so used to using their idea of "Authorial Intent" as a rhetorical crutch and most of the time DO NOT WANT their transmisogyny to be called out as such. It's why when left with no convincing way to deny Bridget's trams existence the ones that DID pivot decided to pivot to taking leftist arguments and swapping some of the words out to make their arguments SOUND progressive. Because they felt that if they couched themselves in leftist sounding language then that would be enough to convince people that they weren't violent reactionaries but were instead GNC men who were expressing loss over valuable representation. Which is just bullshit considering it's just the transfem version of "we're losing our tomboys!" transphobic arguments that people are pretty quick to pick up on but since targets of these arguments were trans women we had genuine queers who were sympathizers and parroting talking points of "While you can't be mad over new Transfem representation you can't fault them for expressing sadness over losing a positive role model for GNC cis men"

Just don't play the "well actually" game with fascists if you can avoid it

[groenendaelfic]

Faroe Gone Final Chapter Sneak Peak

So there's still lots of editing I need to do before I can post the whole thing, but with tomorrow looming I thought I'd share something "happy" and "cheerful" to distract y'all.

Have fun reading the beginning of the final chapter and hope you enjoy! 😇

Simon doesn't know if it's the sudden fog, his tears, or the fact that all he wants to do is be a fool and turn back around again—the first one, definitely the first one—but he drives back to Tórshavn at almost a snail's pace.

It doesn't matter. He has well over a day until the ferry makes its return journey to Denmark and nothing else to do except go over his time with Wilhelm again and again, replaying the good times and the pleasurable times and wondering if he could have said or done anything to change the outcome of his journey—other than realizing that all of his feelings were mere nostalgic illusion and fantasy, which of course turned out to not be the case.

Quite the opposite. Real Wilhelm was so much more than what Simon made him out to be in his head. There's so much he's missed. So much he doesn't know yet and which he desperately wants to find out.

It hurts, and yet there's nothing else Simon can do, no other choice which wouldn't hurt more sooner or later.

No. Simon tried. He did the best he could and that is enough. It has to be enough.

Simon had to leave while he still could.

The road ahead of him is empty, no one else in sight. No people, no cars, no sheep. Nothing except the wet, cold fog swallowing up everything and a rushing noise in his ears which might be the wind or the ocean or Simon himself.

Simon blinks away another tear and keeps driving, turning up the heat and hoping it will help.

It doesn't.

On the next island he passes a camper van. It's parked, and Simon thinks he can make out a brave tourist trying to take a picture, but he isn't sure. It's not as if there's much to see except an endless wall of grayish white.

Maybe that's the fascination.

Wilhelm told him that there are thirty-seven words for fog in the Faroese language, and while Simon laughed and told him to stop kidding, he's sure he's already experienced half of them, and it's only been two days.

Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but contemplating the uselessness of taking pictures of fog is a lot more bearable than lingering on the fact that he'll never get to be with Wilhelm again, never feel that satisfied ache in his muscles, not like this, and really how long can a grown man cry before he's all out of tears?

Pretty long he guesses.

Simon once stopped Ayub's baby daughter from attempting a daring escape on all fours, and Simon swears she was crying forever. Not that he blames her.

Crying is cathartic if it's anything, but if she could produce that many tears because of nothing more than a foiled plan to explore the stairway, then how many will Simon be able to shed before he's all wrung out? He’s a lot taller than her after all and guaranteed to not forget the reason for his tears even after being presented with some candy.

Simon doesn't want to know.

Simon wants to keep driving through this fog forever, because all that's waiting for him at its end is the mundanity of his never-changing life and a scandal revealing the Crown Prince to have been the victim of underage revenge porn thanks to his second cousin and presumed successor, and that is guaranteed to make it worse, to drag Simon’s name back into public awareness.

He should probably call home and warn his mom, warn Sara, but facing them will be torture of an entirely different kind, and also the investigative journalist they chose is a good one, one bound to build a case and not blindly believe her sources before going public, so there is still time.

Not too much though, as there is an impending deadline if the Royal Court and the Prime Minister are to be believed, or at least Simon would really prefer news of August’s deeds to overshadow him being taken into the line of succession.

Not that he’s so naive as to think a mere article can do more than delay the proceedings at best—although one can always hope—and ideally the journalist and whoever else gets a say in choosing the right time will see it the same way, but all of that is still more than half a week away, so why burden his family before he absolutely has to?

No, he's not going to call home yet, but maybe he should reserve a room before he gets back to the capital.

He decides to do it the old fashioned way and pulls over at the next opportunity. A viewpoint, or so he presumes the sign a few meters away from him would tell him if only it was clear enough to see.

He wipes at his cheeks and opens his phone. There are plenty of options for him to stay at. Small, privately owned places, holiday homes with kitchens and living rooms, quaint little hotels doing their best to sell their Nordic, rustic charm to tourists wealthy enough to make it there, and of course a camping ground, because unlike Sweden, the Faroe Islands don't allow one to set up camp anywhere else.

Simon doesn't choose any of them. He wants a warm but bland room, boring and inoffensive and as likely to be in Tórshavn as on the other side of the world.

Something as far from Wilhelm's colorful and most definitely handmade and expensive wooden furniture as he can get, and so he books himself a room at the first—and only—international hotel chain he can find, something he'd never do otherwise, and pretends that he's looking forward to it. The hotel has a fitness center after all and well over a hundred rooms. Simon is almost going to feel like back home in Uppsala.

Not.

He sighs and makes sure he received a confirmation for his booking, before he throws his phone onto the passenger seat and sighs again.

Somehow, magically, or rather because he's on a windy archipelago in the middle of nowhere, the fog is starting to clear. He can see a few meters of grass now, and then a cliff, and below it the cold, dark ocean pretending at being calm.

Simon wants the fog back, but when has he ever gotten what he wanted, and by the time he's back on the road he swears he can see a tiny patch of blue sky up ahead.

The hotel is on the outskirts of town and exactly as impersonal as Simon hoped it would be. He isn't hungry, and so he goes straight to his room and falls face first into bed.

The sheets are white and the pillows are white and they smell bland and clean and inoffensive, nothing at all like Wilhelm, and why would they?

Simon hates them. Simon also hates the hotel, but it's not as if he's in the mood for sightseeing, and as he isn't willing to take a shower yet—what? He's alone, no one's going to smell him, and isn't that the entire problem?—all that's left to do is turn on the TV, because he's for sure not touching his phone again any time soon.

Not when that would mean having it confirmed with every passing minute that he was a fool to leave Wilhelm his number. Wilhelm isn't going to call, but Simon would rather live in denial for as long as he can.

The TV does not greet him with an info screen as Simon expected, but an English speaking news channel, the volume turned up way too loudly, and Simon turns it off again as fast as he can.

Wallowing in self pity it is then.

Unfortunately Simon's usual answer to bouts of self-pity—angrily jerking off to thoughts of Wilhelm—is not an option right now, because Wilhelm is the entire reason for his misery, and so he grudgingly reaches for his phone after all and starts up a game which would work much better on a computer screen.

He's just about to finish off the newest boss, when a text message pops up.

If I do it, it reads. Then can we

The sentence stops halfway through, and Simon almost has a heart attack.

The delay in his reaction is enough for him to be killed instead, but it's not as if Simon notices.

Wilhelm. It has to be Wilhelm.

He taps the message, and while that makes it larger, it doesn't change the words.

He almost calls Wilhelm back right away, because Wilhelm is swaying, is reconsidering, and Simon wants that, he wants it so bad, to have Wilhelm back in his arms and his life, but also Simon already told Wilhelm that he can't be the only reason Wilhelm returns, that this is a life changing decision if there was ever any, and that Wilhelm needs to make it for himself and not for a hope of them maybe working out, and so he doesn't.

Instead he waits an excruciating minute and then another, just in case Wilhelm wants to add something or pressed send too soon, but no further message follows.

Simon curses and swears and kicks up his feet, because now he has hope again and that is great, but also torture. He doesn't want Wilhelm to get the wrong impression, doesn't want him to think that Simon wouldn't be willing to pick right up where they left off if he could—in the bedroom that is, not when it comes to fighting—and maybe they could also go on a date which has been nineteen years in coming.

Simon wants that. Simon really wants that. How can he not, now that he's had a taste, has spent time with Wilhelm, just Wilhelm, has had breakfast with him and done chores with him and played with his dog. Simon wants Wilhelm back, now more so than ever.

Simon knows he's an idiot, thinking of romance and dating when he just left the love of his life behind, and even if he hadn't, a returning Wilhelm would have much different things on his mind. He'd have to. He'd have no other choice. Things like his dying mother and the throne and the public reacting to his return after ten years in exile.

Wilhelm wouldn't have time for Simon, no matter how much Wilhelm would want him. Not for weeks and not for months. Simon would have to sneak into an assortment of palaces with the eyes of the entire nation on nothing but them if he wanted any time with Wilhelm at all, and Simon wouldn't want that. Simon doesn't want secrecy and sneaking and lies. Not that'd even be an option, what with the press and curious bystanders everywhere.

There is another option of course. The only one Wilhelm would ever consider coming back for. The one which at first glance sounds perfect because it means being with Wilhelm and standing by his side. It would also mean giving up everything else in Simon's life though, but what has he really got to lose? Why stop being foolish now?

Wilhelm told Simon that he's it for him. Wilhelm loves him. Simon's already traveled across an ocean. What's one tiny text message compared to that? Why can't he be selfish just this once and fuck the risk and the idiocy and the fear of what will be in one year? In five? In ten?

It all might end in disaster, but it might also not, and why should he be miserable if there's even the slightest chance at some fleeting happiness. After all it's not as if the email Wilhelm sent isn't bound to upend Simon's life anyway, and it's not as if Wilhelm is actually going to come.

Simon wants to be happy.

Simon wants to be happy and now there's a chance for it and so why not take it? He's done stupider things before, like coming here in the first place, so he might as well go all the way.

He doesn't text Wilhelm a yes, doesn't make any promises. He texts one word and one word alone, followed by a number, the name of the hotel and his room number, and maybe that's the biggest promise of all.

He doesn't regret it. He couldn't stay, not without making his inevitable departure even worse, but now he's done his part and the ball is in Wilhelm's court, all the balls are, and Simon is here and waiting.

For a ferry. For Wilhelm. For the life they could have had.

Fuck.