#everything they do makes complete sense when you remember neither of them have ever felt truly seen before the other

[lilgynt]

having so many thoughts on will and hannibal it’s making me incoherent

[deityoftherain]

cherry blossom tea - Flower Court during Secret Life Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M, Multi

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 2,413

Summary: Martyn visits his boyfriends (Scott, Jimmy, and Tango) for a date at Gem and the Scotts' base while the server is taking a break from playing Secret Life.

I wrote this for @grimaussiewitch through the @mcyt-yaoi-exchange !

Polyamory was a new concept to Martyn.

Well, not new like he didn’t know what it meant, but new in the way that he was now a part of one. He had never been in a polyamorous relationship before! It was different– strange, even– but not in a bad way? Ugh, it was hard to explain.

Martyn wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much or why he still struggled to wrap his head around it sometimes. He supposed it was because, when he imagined his life, he never thought having multiple partners was an option for him. Other people, sure, but not him, not doesn’t-get-tied-down-anywhere Martyn! 

He had always assumed he worldhopped too much for monogamy to work out, let alone polyamory, and, yet, here he was: climbing up cherry wood stairs during a death game to see his boyfriends. Granted, they were on break from the game, but still!

Martyn smiled warmly at the thought, instantly feeling like such a sap. His boyfriends.

He may be the newest addition to the polycule, but he’s known each of them for quite some time. He’s known Jimmy the longest, of course, but Tango and Scott were long-term friends as well. He and Jimmy had a bit of a thing before– several times, actually– but it never went anywhere, though Martyn knew he had most of the blame for that one.

None of them ever managed to take the first step to change their relationship status to romantic until things got a little steamy between him and Scott on the Coral Isles. Martyn still remembered the way he felt when Scott confessed his attraction and told him that his boyfriends consented to their relationship. He also remembered the way Scott’s scales felt against his skin and the way his unusually sharp teeth broke through the fragile skin of his lips… 

Nothing happened right after Limited Life ended, though that was typical. Most life members took a week or so off to recover and “do nothing” for a bit. Martyn thought he more than deserved the little holiday, especially because he was the winner that time around! They (being Martyn and his boyfriends) did find time for the four of them to meet up on Hermitcraft at Tango’s base, though. They spent hours talking through everything– through boundaries and expectations– and the rest was history.

Martyn heard Scott shuffling even before he entered through the gate to Gem and the Scotts’ base, though his sense of hearing has always been strangely enhanced compared to the average Player. He didn’t hear Scott’s teammates, but that was to be expected. Martyn knew that Gem was planning to spend the break at the Mounders’, well, mounds with her girlfriend, Pearl, and he had seen Impulse heading towards The Heart Foundation to visit Skizz. Even if he hadn’t seen him make his way over, Martyn recalled Tango telling him all about it, dramatically complaining that Skizz hadn’t stopped talking about getting alone time with Impulse all week.

Martyn surveyed the area, soon spotting Scott setting up a little area among the cherry blossom leaves outside of the three individual cottages. Scott must have noticed him because he perked up, a grin widening on his face. “Martyn!”

“Hey fins,” Martyn greeted, using the pet name he had given Scott during Limited Life. What else was he supposed to do? Scott gradually turning all fishy as the clock ticked down opened up a world of ocean-y themed nicknames! “Where’s Tim? Or Tango, for that matter.”

“Not here yet,” Scott answered with a shrug. “Though neither he nor Tango are known for being very punctual. You get used to it.”

Martyn furrowed his brow as he settled down beside Scott. “Huh, that’s strange. He left before me. Ran off before I could ask why he was leaving so early.”

“That is peculiar.” Scott hummed, tilting his head down to sniff a flower he had picked. “I’m not too bothered though. We’re so high up and the map is so small that I don’t think he’ll get too lost. He’ll find us”

“Eh, you’re right. He is a Big Dog, after all, ruff ruff!” Martyn carried on the barking he and Jimmy had been doing most of the game, leaning into their theming hard. It was sort of difficult not to when the server had literally given them dog ears and a tail. Their new appendages were far more expressive than he liked though, giving him away when he otherwise may have gotten away with whatever it was that time. “He’ll be fine.” Scott sucked in his lips, graciously attempting to hold in his giggles. It only lasted a second before Scott started laughing fondly. He leaned forward and reached out his hand to ruffle Martyn’s blonde hair between his ears. “You’re so cute.”

“Nah, mate, intimidating,” Martyn corrected, but, admittedly, his tail wagged happily at the affection. “Not cute. I’m very scary.” “Mhm, sure.” Scott didn’t bother arguing, giving him one last scratch behind the ear before pulling his arm away. He laid down on the grass and petals, but he used Martyn’s thigh as a pillow. “Whatever you say, pirate.”

Martyn rolled his eyes, but he didn’t comment, content to run his fingers through Scott’s cyan locks as Scott sang various tunes for him. “Pirate” was Scott’s “revenge” for calling him “fins”, and both names stuck, mostly because they were both known to be stubborn when they wanted to be.

Scott sat up at the distant sound of competitive screaming quickly moving closer. It didn’t take a genius to guess that Tango and Jimmy were racing each other up the stairs, only confirmed when the voices got closer.

“Oi!” Jimmy protested something Martyn didn’t see occur. “That’s not fair!”

“You snooze, you lose, bucker-oo!” Tango forced himself through the gate, throwing his arms up in celebration. “Yeah, baby! Let’s go!”

“Holy moly, man!” Jimmy was all out of breath by the time he passed through the gate. “You are way too fast for someone so short.” Tango’s thin tail stuck straight up, the puff of hair at the end promptly engulfed in flame. “I am five foot two! That’s not that short.”

"Rancher, I love you, but are you sure about that?” Jimmy rested his elbow on Tango’s shoulder to prove a point, and Tango playfully shoved him away. They both burst into a fit of giggles, no bad blood between them.

While they were messing around, Martyn noticed they were both holding hand-picked bouquets of various flowers. Shit, was I supposed to bring flowers? He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very empty-handed. Martyn stole a glance in Scott’s direction, who looked particularly pleased with what they brought. 

“What kind of flowers did you get?” Scott asked as the two left their play fighting behind to sit with him and Martyn. “I see some tulips, ooh, and some cornflowers.”

“Uhh, I’m not sure of all their names,” Tango admitted, twisting the bunch of flowers around every which way to get a good look at them. “I know these ones are alliums. They mean good luck and prosperity.”

“And I got some poppies, of course,” Jimmy added, pointing out the red flower. Poppies had a more personal value to his and Scott’s relationship so of course he brought some, even though poppies appeared already alongside dandelions and cherry blossoms in the cherry grove biome. “And some lilacs! Magenta ones, meaning love and passion.”

Martyn’s ears pressed back against his hair, feeling embarrassed. Was the bringing of flowers an established thing? Why were they reciting the flowers’ meanings like Scott was some sort of floristry teacher? How the fuck did he not get the memo? Scott hadn’t mentioned anything to him! “Were we supposed to bring flowers? I didn’t– Tim! Why did you never tell me? Your fellow Big Dog?” 

“Oh, right.” Jimmy averted his gaze, tail pressing against the back of his legs as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, babe. I forgot that you didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, Martyn,” Scott reassured him, taking his hand and raising it to his lips. He pressed a kiss against Martyn’s hand before pressing his cheek against Martyn’s palm. “You wouldn’t have known, but I appreciate that you would have brought me some if you did know.” “Well, of course I would!” Martyn was almost offended. Almost. “I can’t be the only one not bringing you flowers! I may not always act like it, but I am a gentleman.” Scott raised an eyebrow, amused. “And you think they are?” “Hey!” Jimmy protested before Tango poked his side, instantly grabbing his attention away from Scott and Martyn’s conversation.

“They’re mostly doing it because I was trying to teach them flower meanings one night forever ago, before Limited Life. I assume so, anyway.” Scott sorted through the colorful plants, organizing them so he could easily access the kinds he wanted to make patterned crowns. “We’ve just been so busy that I haven’t hosted another flower lesson. I honestly forgot about it; it doesn’t come up too often.” “Impulse wore one of the cherry blossom flower crowns you made him and Gem when he was visiting us.” Tango entered their conversation once more as he picked at the grass and cherry blossom petals that had fallen from the trees. “That opened the topic to the other beautiful ones you did in Third Life with Jimmy when you had access to more colors, so I brought it up to Jimmy, we planned to gather more types just before heading to see you for quality assurance, and here we are.”

Martyn scrunched his nose, though he otherwise tried to hide the feeling of being left out, of being useless, of being less. He knew that line of thinking was irrational, and he wasn’t mad at his boyfriends, but it did sting a bit. Their relationship was still all so new and he was trying to find his rhythm!

He discreetly pulled up his inventory, searching through it as he racked his brain for a gift of his own. If he couldn’t do flowers, he could do that next best thing. “Scott, do you mind if I use your furnace to boil water real quick?” “You’re free to use whatever you like, as long as we aren’t in session,” Scott gave his permission, though his face creased with curiosity. “Why though?”

“Well,” Martyn started, placing his hands on his knees and pushing himself up to his feet, “I may not have brought different kinds of flowers, but I believe I can make something better.”

“Oh?” Scott was clearly intrigued by what he meant, but Martyn didn’t stick around long enough for his boyfriends to ask questions.

Martyn snatched some cherry blossoms off a nearby tree as he darted over to Scott’s cottage. He had visited many times before so he knew exactly which one was Scott’s. It would have been awkward if he entered Gem or Impulse’s instead. 

Fortunately, Martyn had some water in his inventory already, so he didn’t have to run back down the mountain (or jump off of Gem’s diving board) to retrieve some. Now he wouldn’t normally do this, but he let the petals seep in the water before it came to a full boil to help save time. He didn’t want to spend too much of his break standing in front of a furnace instead of spending time with the three waiting for him outside.

Once Martyn deemed the tea finished enough, he exited the cottage to find his boyfriends each wearing a crown on their head. They were likely made by Scott considering that Jimmy and Tango seemed to be struggling making new ones.

“No, lovebug, like this,” Scott instructed Tango both verbally and by demonstration. “There you go! You got it.” Jimmy noticed Martyn’s return first, eyes brightening, ears perking up, and tail wagging joyfully. “Martyn! You’re back! What did you make?” “Cherry blossom tea,” Martyn announced proudly, pouring the tea into a cup. He gave the first to Scott, seeing that he was the host, before dividing the rest of the tea between himself, Jimmy, and Tango. Once everyone had their tea, he claimed his spot beside Scott again. “It’s pretty simple to make from scratch. I actually know how to make a few different types of tea with what I find foraging and some hot water.” Tango let out a low whistle as Scott plopped a flower crown on Martyn’s head. “That’s crazy impressive! You gotta show me how to do that later.” “Just come up to Baxter sometime,” Martyn started, referencing the Dog House he and Jimmy affectionately named, “when I’m around and I’ll show you. Or message me on the comms and I’ll visit you on Hermitcraft.”

“Excellent.” Tango grinned, excited at the prospect of learning something new. “I’ll take you up on that, don’t you worry.”

Scott took a sip of the tea, and then paused for a long moment to properly consider what he was tasting before exclaiming, “Mm, Martyn! This is good!”

“Oi, don’t sound so surprised!” Martyn reprimanded in faux defensiveness, one hand on his chest and the other making a playful smacking motion in Scott’s direction.

“That isn’t what I meant!” Scott squeaked, promptly backpedaling. “I’m just impressed with your quick thinking and resourcefulness.”

Now that compliment meant a lot and filled Martyn with a sense of pride, though he attempted to not let it show. Codeword: attempted. Damn his dog-like appendages. “Eh, you don’t survive this long without picking up a thing or two.” “Well, I think it’s hot,” Scott commented as if he were sharing the day of the week, taking a long sip of his tea as he kept eye contact with Martyn.

“I’m always hot.” Martyn snorted, amused. He set his tea aside and scooted closer to Scott.. “Now get over ‘ere.”

Scott bounced up to his knees with a giggle, taking two “steps” towards Martyn until he was close enough for Martyn to pull him onto his lap. Their lips met and all feelings of being inadequate left Martyn’s mind. In fact, all intelligent thoughts saw themselves out the door, leaving Martyn only with bliss and pleasure, merrily content with how their group date had gone. Void knows that they needed this after how stressful Secret Life has been with the whole “no regeneration” rule, and Martyn planned to use every second of free time with his boyfriends.

If you got down this far, please reblog, like/kudos, and/or comment here and/or on ao3! I appreciate it all <333

[wolfgangevenstar]

Oh! Please share as much as you want about Trans!Johnny omg!!

okay since you asked so nicely 👉👈

first of all, and i cannot stress this enough, this hc goes hand in hand with trans dutch for me, you cannot have one without the other. like their friendship reminds me so much of how it is to grow up as a young trans guy and finally finding someone that seems to know exactly what ur going through (even if maybe neither of you know why yet) also it’s just nice to think they at least had each other with all the shit they were going through. they met before highschool, with dutch having transferred schools enough times due to being expelled that no one remembers him pre-transition (except johnny ofc)

Johnny came out super young. he was one of those people who always knew, and openly expressed those feelings of being a boy to his mother, who had no idea how to deal with it at first, but came around pretty quickly. She got him more boyish clothes (not much just what they could afford) and she cut his hair herself. this all happened before she even met Sid, (mainly bc i cannot imagine a scenario in which sid would be okay with having a trans step son) and to this day he’s still none the wiser.

the first person johnny came out to (besides his mom and dutch ofc) was ali. they’d become really close friends, and knowing what an amazingly kind and accepting person she was, he felt safe telling her almost everything. they started dating shortly after.

then of course there’s his relationship with kreese and how being in cobra kai affected him. (cannot decide if it makes more sense for kreese to know about him being trans or not, but ultimately i don’t think it really matters.) Johnny’s never really had a good male figure to look up to until this point and so he soaks up every single thing kreese teaches them. real men know how to fight, how to defend themselves, how to protect those who can’t fight for themselves, that’s what a real man does. and most importantly he takes no shit. no fear, no mercy. dutch agrees.

of course, this is when things start to go downhill with ali, and when they break up johnny tells himself it’s because she just doesn’t get it. she doesn’t understand. she doesn’t have to fight to be who she is, she just gets granted that by right of existing. it’s different for him. he has to earn it.

which is exactly why daniel larusso pisses him off so much. larusso and his stupid infuriating soccer moves, and his quick wit, and his kind and beautiful smile, and charisma with everyone he meets. he’s scrawny and weak and he’s not masculine or macho at all, he doesn’t even try, he doesn’t put in a modicum of effort and yet ali seems to think daniel’s more of a man than johnny ever will be. and it’s not fair. johnny had to work to earn his place, so why doesn’t daniel? johnny had to hurt people, hurt himself, break bones, run to the point of complete exhaustion and then keep running more. he had to practice lowering his vocie, and learn how to stand the right way, to walk the right way, to put away childish things, and puff out his chest act like a real man. all this work with no end in sight, and daniel doesn’t have to do a god damn thing.

it’s not fair.

[jon-snows-man-bun]

By Turns

Chapter Nine

The closer Eris gets to his goals the harder he has to work to keep all plates spinning. Tensions simmer underneath his new alliances, pulling him into the Hewn City where the impact of Rhysand’s rule shapes the future.

Masterlist

Find this fic on AO3

A/N: Chapter contains explicit smut, reproductive coercion, references to murder and suicide, and some minor Rhysand slander.

Aisling didn’t know what happened. One second she had been consumed entirely by the stretch and delicious friction of Eris moving within her, the curtain of his red hair, the intensity in his amber eyes. The way the gold chain around his neck caught the firelight. Pleasure had been burning through, blazing to the tips of her toes, molten in her belly, when he had pushed her legs back to her shoulders. She thought it was a cramp for half a second, then it seized her heart and burned.

Worse than being hit. Worse than a whip. It felt like a hot poker laid to her chest. Everything she’d ever read about mating bonds said it was almost a holy experience, a union of souls; novels made it sound delicate and romantic. It felt like violence to her, like a finger had been stabbed in below her heart and hooked around her rib. Like the bond had been stitched into the bone itself, and she felt every pull of the needle.

But an orgasm had been barrelling to her like a falling boulder, undeterred by pain or fate. It slammed into her and she felt like a falling star, nothing but a wave of light and heat, the pain and the pleasure knotted up together. Eris had pressed his face into her neck as he reached his own end with a shuddering gasp, spilling inside her.

They were left panting for a moment as they came down, staring at each other like strangers. His eyes were running over her face, and he looked as rattled as she felt; as if his life had been flipped upside down and dropped.

Eris had flecks of gold and brown in his amber eyes, she noticed suddenly, and a very faint scar by the edge of his hairline. His thumb ran over the point of her ear softly, a shockingly tender gesture. Neither of them spoke.

His cock was still in her, still hard as an iron rod. Aisling remembered that as he shifted and felt shy suddenly, pinned down beneath him. Her face flamed red at the unbearable intimacy of it all. She felt completely bare before him, as if this absurd bond was more an invasion than what he’d just done to her.

She never expected a mate, in her small little City. She didn’t know what to do now that she had one. Just laying with Eris would have been fine, impersonal because of the transactional nature of it all. But now he was linked to her in a way that was soul-deep. Aisling didn’t want her soul to be known.

“Tell me,” Eris ordered her, studying the redness in her cheeks, the way she was suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

“You’re naked,” she whispered, making him huff a laugh.

“Is that objectionable to you now?” He murmured. His voice was thick and low, honeyed on the edges. It made her shiver with desire all over again.

Eris rolled off her, catching her when she tried to rise, pulling her to him. Aisling didn’t try overly hard to resist, some part of her compelled at the thought of nestling against him. She settled against the warmth of his lean, muscled chest. It felt right, even if she was caught between desire and distress.

Something in her was purring in satisfaction, golden and warm and content to be in his arms. He circled them around her firmly, amber eyes distant. But she couldn’t shake the uncomfortable vulnerability, as if she had shared too much with him accidentally. It was the same feeling of exposure as telling a secret to someone she shouldn’t have.

But Aisling had read that mates could sense each other’s strong emotions; she wasn’t sure what was true and what was a romantic fantasy. Was any of that anxiety coming from him? His heart beat under her ear, in time with her own now, tied together forever –

Eris hissed, shifting under her. “Don’t pull on it,” he complained, but one hand gently stroked her hair.

“I didn’t realise I had,” Aisling frowned, cautiously feeling the new magic in her chest, nestled beside her own, encompassing it.

“If you do it again, we’re going to have words,” Eris cautioned her, dark and taunting now. Some of the shock was ebbing away from him; she could feel him, the thing writhing in her heart. She touched her breast absently, almost expecting the skin to be hotter where she could feel his fire burning.

“I think we need to have words regardless,” Aisling said. Eris merely turned to study her, eyes blazing again. Whatever he’d been contemplating before, she had his full attention again now. His face was pale and blank, caught in the flickering light of his fire. She had no idea what he was thinking - either the touted bond was defunct, or he wasn’t feeling anything at all.

He was so handsome it was painfully unfair. What chance did she stand? How could she ever resist him?

“Later,” he said, and gave the golden thread a tug.

———————

Eris had never known his cock could be this hard, or that he could fuck so much in one night. He felt insatiable; all his desire for Aisling explained and intensified.

Aisling – his mate – pleaded for mercy sometime in the middle of the night, straddling his lap. She had whimpered into his neck even as she rode him to her finish, face a beautiful twist of pain and ecstasy. He almost took pity on her. If he thought he wanted her before, it was nothing compared to the well of desire that had been tapped in him now. He could feel it in her, too, responding to him, answering his call.

In truth, he didn’t know when or if he’d have her again. The anxiety of the choice that lay before him made him frantic. He had never wanted a serious entanglement, let alone a mate, because of the danger from his father. He had learned well from Lucien’s mistakes. Sure, he was the heir and the favoured son, but he’d be walking a knife’s edge to keep Beron happy lest Aisling take his place in the dungeons for any missteps he made. And the danger posed to him by her, by the way she would be held against him to manipulate him – it was unacceptable. Even as they made a wreckage of the bedsheets, Eris felt himself letting go.

It was a sliver of ash in his heart, a pain so acute that it drove him on ferociously to pin her down and lick her cunt until she came gasping his name again. It wasn’t so much Aisling – she was a stranger, really – but that she was meant to be his equal, someone who could have been his above all else, were everything different.

One person he could rely upon entirely. A fantasy.

He couldn’t see an immediate path forward. He wouldn’t put her at risk by bringing her to Autumn, let alone that he would have to beg fucking Rhysand to release her from the Court of Nightmares. He couldn’t even stomach putting her at risk by claiming her in front of her vicious, scheming shithole of a home; she’d be snapped up and leveraged against him by any number of his so-called allies in Night.

Aisling finally fell asleep after hours of begging him alternately for more and to stop, curled against his chest, sweaty and utterly wrung out. Eris couldn’t help the smirk as he stroked her hair back. Poor female – he’d taken her maidenhood and fucked her into absolute oblivion in the same night. He’d intended to be far gentler, to trick her that he was the sort of considerate male who wouldn’t pin her by the back of her neck before him and rut her like an animal. The mating bond was bringing out his worst impulses.

That was another thought. He didn’t want to be reduced to the sort of territorial, insufferable male that Rhysand and the bastard were, but he could see how quickly he could spiral into possession and obsession with Aisling. He recounted all the mated couples he’d known of, all the ones that ended in disaster for everyone but the gloating males. Rhysand’s own father came to mind, as did the previous High Lord of Spring. The odds seemed poor, in his estimation. He had grown up in a house where a father fashioned his love into a weapon and his entire family’s burden. Perhaps that predisposition was lurking in his blood, the mating bond potent enough to call it forth when his formidable willpower could have otherwise kept it down.

Eris idly wondered how Lucien had coped, all this time. Having Aisling near him was almost painful now, a longing to touch her and know her so strong it twisted against his ribs. Perhaps because his brother’s own mate was, by all accounts, an insipid, beautiful wallflower. He supposed that could be thought of Aisling as well, but he knew the truth. He’d seen her true temperament, the Unseelie in her. She’d been sired by a Court of killers and liars; her blood would hold true.

His brow furrowed anew as he watched her sleep. He would have accepted the bond, even knowing as little of Aisling as he did now. She was clever and could keep secrets; she would be merciless by his side if he could convince her to give him her loyalty. She was half of him. A rare gift, given to one who had nothing and no one. Through choice and through force, he was alone. In the house where Beron could take everything from everyone including their souls, it was far easier to have nothing to lose in the first place.

Eris watched the rise and fall of her chest, the way she had curled into him, already seeking safety in his arms. The golden bond glittered bright, still unfamiliar, still shocking. Having her asleep on him, naked and sated, utterly drenched in his scent, felt right in a soul-deep way. It soothed a jagged part of him, somewhere deep in his soul.

He kept turning the situation over and over in his mind, trying to anticipate all outcomes; trying to reason out what others would do. He would explain to her, keep her as safe as she could be here; run his plans for Beron’s assassination as quickly as he could get away with. He’d come back for her then, once he was High Lord. Rhysand couldn’t stand in the way then, couldn’t balk and threaten to sell him out to Beron if he insisted on taking her as was his right. He’d learned this lesson from Lucien, too; watching his little brother scrape his way across Prythian to rebuild Night’s tenuous alliances, only for Rhysand to topple any progress with his arrogance and self-serving nature when he decided he wanted something more than he wanted to appear like a misunderstood martyr. And all for a vapid doll of a mate who wouldn’t even look at him, by the reports he got. It was painful to watch.

Rhysand would have Eris dancing to the same tune, if he could. He’d managed to get Lucien on the hook by insisting that it was Elain’s choice; Lucien played along. Lucien also had no leverage against Rhysand, and likely wouldn’t have used it even if he did have it, trying to convince his own mate to want him.

Eris differed in both ways. He’d simply take Aisling if he had to, as was his right. He doubted Rhysand’s philosophy of choice extended as far as the Hewn City, anyways; if Aisling decided she hated Eris as so many others did and begged to stay, Rhysand would still send her to Eris if he could benefit from it. He was predictable in that regard. Morrigan certainly wouldn’t have been happy about Rhysand allowing access to Velaris, and still Rhysand had bargained it away, knowing it would hurt her. Aisling wasn’t part of his insufferable little family; there would be no silk gloves in her treatment.

He slept at some point, wrapped around Aisling, nose pressed into her hair to breath in her rose and mist smell. He woke to her trying to pry herself out of his arms carefully, as if she could escape without waking him. As if he could do anything now but be attuned to her every move.

“I tried not to wake you. You looked as if you were sleeping well,” she said, sitting up and pulling the blanket with her. Eris tugged it loose irritably. This shyness again? He had her half a dozen ways last night and her soul was bound to his. Eris knew she was no shy maiden under her dark-eyed, coy act.

“I had the most pleasant of dreams,” he said, rolling onto his back and propping his arms behind his head. He smirked when he felt her desire flare in her, sharp and hot, as her eyes darted to his bare chest.

“The moon has set,” Aisling said, looking away, a sweet little blush on her face. “Send your dreams away for the day.”

“I far prefer these waking moments,” Eris said, unable to look away from her. A lush slip of moonlight, here in his bed, belonging to him. His lovely stranger, his dark mirror. “How do you know the moon is set?”

She gave him a strange look. “You cannot tell?”

“No,” he said, sitting up now. “Is it a trick of the Solar fae? The rest of us are not privy to much Night Court magic. You’ll educate me in all its secrets.”

“A lady is entitled to her secrets,” she demurred.

“Not mine,” Eris answered with absolute certainty.

Aisling tossed her hair arrogantly over her shoulder. “A presumption on both counts, lord,” she said, and Eris couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. There was a fierce creature in there, buried beneath layers of Night Court bullshit. She’d be magnificent in Autumn, under his tutelage.

“Hardly,” he snorted. “You’re my mate, Aisling. You belong to me.”

Some complicated feeling ran over her face, through the bond, too quickly for him to identify. Annoyance and desire and hope and despair, all at once, then gone as she mastered herself. She turned to dress herself, trying to hide her feelings from him. She hadn’t yet learned that her heart was open to him, that he’d come to know her as she knew herself.

“And if I belong to you, do I also belong with you, lord?” She said, looking at him back over her shoulder. He began pulling on his clothes as well, considering his words. Of course she would want to leave here. She didn’t yet know that Autumn would be as much a prison for her as it stood currently.

“In time,” he said. “I have matters I must resolve before you can join me.”

Eris could see the crushing disappointment written in the way her shoulders dipped. She turned away swiftly, hiding her face from him. She desired privacy; he didn’t reach for her, as badly as he wanted to. She had so little agency, he could give her this.

“And when would your matters be resolved?” Aisling asked stiffly.

“I cannot say.” He wouldn’t – anything she knew endangered her, as well as him. Her shoulders set back like a bull, and she turned to face him, face a pleasant mask once more. She was angry, he could tell.

“Autumn is dangerous,” he said, pinning her with a stare so she knew he meant it. “Especially so for you, an outsider. I cannot focus on your safety with you there and so much in play.”

“More dangerous than the City?” Aisling asked, a hard edge in her voice. “There is no such. We are the worst that can be.”

She wasn’t necessarily wrong.

“A different danger,” he hedged. “You know nothing of Autumn. It is a cruel place and a greater risk to you than here.”

“Far more cruel for you to leave me here,” she said, twisting her hair back quickly, her harried motion giving away her frustration. “Far more cruel for you to come, have your use of me, and go.”

“You were bred for such a purpose, were you not?” Eris snapped. “What else did you presume your role would be here?”

Her eyes narrowed in fury. The bond between them strained with it. “To be in my lord’s bed at all hours, of course,” she said sweetly. “What other purpose could I serve? How else could I be a good mate?”

“I’ll tie you to my bedframe if that’s what you desire,” Eris said sharply, losing his hold on his temper. He struggled to keep control around her. “I’ll take you from here when I am ready and you can serve me all you like. For now, listen to what I’m telling you and mind yourself here, keep yourself safe.”

“My safety is not some small thing within my control,” Aisling snapped back, her own mask slipping.

“Enough,” Eris sneered, and the fire in the hearth danced to his anger. “It’s how it must be. Now, if you’d like to hasten your exit, you’ll be a good mate and tell me everything there is to know about the Night Court.”

“Of course, my lord,” she said, saccharine as she sauntered to the door. “It’s less dangerous than the Autumn Court and full of fair and gentle females. Our males are purring, toothless kittens. What else is there to know?”

“Aisling!” He barked, the firelight flaring brightly, but she had already stepped through the door and shut it softly behind her. Eris snarled at the closed door, only the knowledge that there would be others in the corridor keeping him from flinging it open and dragging her back.

Eris fumed as he got himself together, preparing to winnow back to Autumn for the foreseeable future. One night, and they were bringing out the worst in each other. He’d unleashed her, he supposed. He’d wanted her claws, to know who she was beneath her artifice. To reassure himself that he couldn’t trample her. He’d had a fantasy of her slotting in next to him, his ally and consort and confidante all in one, ready-made by the Mother. The idea was seductive.

As Eris stalked through the halls of the palace, winding towards the main gate, he carefully mastered himself. Aisling was young, he reasoned, and frustrated with her lot. She would obey – she had no choice – and once he was on the throne, he’d be able to give her whatever her little heart desired and fuck her whenever he desired. She’d come to hand when she realised that by playing patient, she’d get her freedom and become the Lady of Autumn. Surely she desired that.

As he left the Hewn City behind, winnowing straight to the gates of the Forest House, he carefully arranged his expression into aloof arrogance, a cruel little smirk. He had a mate to protect as well, now. It was time to begin moving.

———————

Aisling ignored the whispers as she walked back to her home.

The guards in the palace were utter professionals, used to worse comings and goings than her own, and ignored her. It was only when she was in the City proper that she heard it begin. Simply enough, with a courier looking at her twice. She bared her teeth and the boy scampered away. She passed a cafe table and heard conversation between the three males stop as she approached then pick back up, more sharply, once she was a few steps away. Two females walking with their armed guard looked at her, looked at each other, then giggled behind their hands.

It was all a test. She ignored it.

It was only once she was back in her room with the door firmly shut did she crumple, sliding to the floor. She had been so hopeful, so stupidly hopeful – he had played with her, had courted her, and then this stupid fucking bond –

Eris was a liar. He had encouraged her to think for herself, to make her own moves; now he told her to shut her mouth and stay put. She could guess well enough what wicked business he had to attend to, but he was five centuries old. Would it take another five hundred years, to create a so-called safe enough Autumn for her to leave this fucking place? She’d kill herself before then, or be killed, and her head would hang above the palace gates with the rest. There was no safe place. Not in the Night Court, not anywhere. He was naive for thinking otherwise.

Mate bonds were meant to be sacred. Aisling thought, staring at him after it happened, that he was her lifeline. Her mirror, showing her what she always knew, that she didn’t belong trapped in one place. The disappointment that the bond was nothing but a hindrance to him burned through her like his fire. She buried her face in her hands, and gave herself ten deep breaths to let the feelings run their course. She breathed them out, to join all the other misery and pain and sadness in this place. The stone walls here had seen so much, and they would see more – her little burden could join the rest. She carefully picked herself up once more, and undressed to bathe, to try to cleanse his crisp, smoky scent from her.

As she walked by her bed to her bathing chamber she paused, suddenly noticing that there was a gift, waiting for her on her pillow. One she had forgotten she needed, in truth.

Aisling picked up the bottle of contraceptive tonic delicately. She had never seen it before. Healers were forbidden from creating it in the City – every child was a blessing, they said. If the Mother and the male atop you willed it, then you would be the vessel regardless of your opinion on the matter. Little bastard males were destined for the Darkbringers if they had the gift, which Aisling suspected was really the priority.

You could get it, of course, if you had enough gold and were willing to brave the floating markets. Or if you knew a healer willing to betray the law. You could never be sure what you were taking, though. Aisling had known of a girl a bit younger than her who had fallen foul of a bad tonic. She was not quite as wealthy, so was not educated with her and Niamh and the others; the details of the story were hearsay. The girl had been courted by a male, some massively promising young warrior, and had begun laying with him before they were wed though her father had forbidden it and grown furious. When she continued, her father had either found the girl’s tonic and poisoned it or convinced a healer to do it for him; the story changed. Either way, she was dead as dead could be within the moon’s turn. Any idle daydreams Aisling had about compromising her own maidenhood evaporated after that, especially when she saw the female’s former betrothed courting again outside of a year, as if nothing had happened at all.

Which risk was worse? The chance of falling pregnant, or the chance of the tonic being tainted? Aisling considered it as she sniffed the tonic. It smelled faintly herbal but not unpleasant. A pregnancy after one night together was unheard of, but – she blushed thinking of it – the seed of mates was said to catch more easily and Eris had certainly taken his use of her throughout the night.

The Mother hadn’t particularly been her ally in all this, Aisling decided. She would not leave it to Her hands, lest she be betrayed twice. If she died, then she died, and Eris would be sorry he hadn’t taken her from here. Hopefully he would drown in his tears, if he was capable of crying. She drank the tonic and kept it down, which she hoped was a good sign the brew wasn’t counterfeit.

Aisling drew the bathwater herself and bathed entirely in the dark, soaking in her great carved obsidian tub for far longer than she needed to. She waited for tears, but they never came.

[lirarey]

A moment of calm

Rating: PG-13;

Pairing: Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler; Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

Genres: AU, Fix-it, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Missing Scene, Romance, Fluff, Time-lapse;

Description: My vision of the series "Girl in the Fireplace".

Number of pages: 4

Glass crackling. So deafening that Rose squeezed her eyes shut and stepped back, stumbling out of the blue and falling. The landing caused a sharp pain in her spine, but the cold of the metal floor brought the girl to her senses somewhat. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around. In place of the window of time through which the Doctor had passed on horseback, now... there was nothing. No different from the rest, except for the remaining fragments of glass, a passage into one of the endless corridors of the spaceship. The realization took Rose's breath away, and she sat up with a jerk, belatedly remembering the injury and wincing in pain.

Yes, the Doctor said that the TARDIS couldn’t interfere, because they had become part of the events. That it's impossible to break through the wall. That if you break the glass, then the time window will also break. There will be no turning back. But deep down, Rose hoped the Doctor would find another way. A way to go back. To get back to her. But it's so hard to believe it, left alone with herself... taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and two images appeared before her. One is a man in a leather jacket, the other is a guy in a long light brown raincoat. It was worth thinking about them, somehow comparing them, and Rose felt her heart sink painfully. No, she can't do that! She can't compare them. They are completely different, and neither the girl herself, nor the Doctor, her first Doctor, could have known what the regeneration would turn out to be. This process is unpredictable, which makes everything even sadder.

On the other hand, she was haunted by the feeling that she regretted the missed opportunities. She regrets that she spent so little time with the Doctor before his regeneration. It's scary to even imagine how boring and insipid her life would have been if she hadn't agreed to travel with him a second time. But the Doctor admitted that he had never offered it to anyone twice before. Doesn't that mean she was special? Or did it just happen that he wanted to interrupt a series of endless lonely days, and fate pushed them together? In fact, the Autons were just looking for a place to stay, and who would have thought that the store where she works would be on the way? In her place, there could be absolutely any girl, the same Sherin, but she was lucky. She was lucky to dilute the gray everyday life with adventures in time and space.

But she was more concerned about another question. Why did she so easily trust a stranger who had saved her life three times? Was she so desperate that she was ready to believe in any miracle and rush to meet him like a little girl when she saw a man in a Santa Claus costume? No, Rose stopped believing in miracles a long time ago. Back when, at the age of sixteen, she dropped out of school for a popular guy, she was faced with the fact that not all relationships end happily ever after…

The Doctor exuded calmness and confidence. She wanted to follow him, even when he didn't have a plan. He wanted to trust, even when the truth was not on his side. Mickey, having only heard about him, discontentedly called Rose's boyfriend. But he wasn't. Nor was he a friend. It was something more sublime that the girl herself couldn't describe in words. It was only necessary to remember that the Doctor is an alien, and he is more than nine hundred years old, everything faded. Any possible thought of any sympathy faded away. How could she, an ordinary saleswoman from London at the beginning of the twenty-first century, attract someone who had seen the past, future and present countless times? No wonder the Doctor has repeatedly referred to people as "stupid monkeys". How is she better than them?

Once she even dared to ask why he took her with him.

And he answered what Rose had never expected him to say. He told me about her bravery, intelligence, and dedication. And he added: 

— You are a very unusual person, Rose Tyler.

It touched her much more than Jimmy's mawkish speeches had once done. It was clearly noticeable that he had done such a "trick" more than once. The Doctor spoke from the heart. He couldn't lie. Even when he tried, somewhere in the depths of his soul there was sadness, regret for what he was doing.

But when the regeneration happened... Rose couldn't be sure that everything was the same.

He became handsome and young, vaguely reminding Rose of those former classmates who had only to look at some girl, and she already imagined a future together. No, of course she didn't want to doubt the "new" him, but, one might say, for the first time she was really jealous.

One day, Cassandra, staying in her mind, found out that the girl thinks he's cute. But the more Rose thought about it, the more strange the thought seemed to her. Where did the promise to herself "not to cross the friendly line" go? Did she make that promise for this one?

However, she easily found an answer to that. Now the Doctor reminded many of the guys she had already fallen in love with: both in character and appearance. That's probably why she got used to him quickly. Hand on heart, Rose could admit to herself that in some familiar situation she would rather meet a new Doctor than his previous regeneration.

And it was a matter of ordinary appearance. She would hardly have dared to ever speak to a man who was practically her mother's age. If he were an ordinary person, it is unlikely that they would have common topics for conversation. An ordinary person… It would have been much easier that way. Not age, not different worlds wouldn’t be a hindrance.

The only question is…

Would the Doctor want that?..

This thought stuck firmly in her head, eclipsing the others, and only the pain in her bruised elbow, on which she involuntarily leaned, made her finally return to the real world. At first, the girl didn't even immediately remember where she was and why, but the unchanging deserted corridors refreshed her memory of recent events.

Or... not quite deserted?

The creaking of machinery. The ticking of the clock. Heavy footsteps. Approaching shadows.

And the girl couldn't even run away.

The sounds were getting closer. They seemed very close. Close to capturing her. Or dismantling her for parts for the ship.

And the Doctor wouldn't come.

…

Fast running. Heavy breathing. The whirring of a sonic screwdriver. Northern accents.

This went on for several minutes. Then there was a frightening silence. Rose finally raised her head, ready to accept her fate, but was met only by worried grey eyes.

"Where are you going?" he muttered in displeasure, thrusting the screwdriver into his jacket pocket. "Is life not nice at all?"

"No, why would you..." the girl replied with a laugh, smiling for the first time in all this time. "I just lost my guard, that's all."

"Stupid monkeys..." her savior muttered in his heart and, turning his back on her, was about to leave when suddenly something stopped him. "How did you get here?"

"With the help of the TARDIS," Rose answered honestly, without thinking.

Even though she knew that this answer would entail long questions, she still wouldn't have been able to lie. In fact, how would a human end up here?

It was hard to tell from his look what he was thinking, but it was worth guessing: he didn't believe that a human could have his own time machine.

On the other hand, how can she says that a Time Lord helped her, if at the time of their meeting the Doctor was convinced that he was the only survivor of the Time War. In this case, the Doctor will understand what's what, and most likely will guess that she is talking about his next regeneration. But won't this disrupt the time continuum? Rose remembered perfectly well what such changes were fraught with: it was her fault that the Reapers appeared and were close to destroying, if not the world, then all those who were in the church.

But, nevertheless, she wouldn’t have been able to deny it for a long time. Not only because the Doctor saw through people, but also because she didn't want to lie. He might not know her yet, but she just couldn't betray all the time she'd spent with him.

"That is, with the help of the Time Lord," Rose finally decided to clarify, carefully watching his reaction.

"What does he look like?" There was nothing in his tone to betray interest.

"Brown-haired, in a long raincoat and sneakers..." Rose paused, trying to detect the slightest signs of doubt in his gaze.

Nothing. She'd forgotten how well he hid his emotions.

The Doctor turned his back on her, studying the walls of the ship carefully. Almost like the first day they met… Only on a spaceship you can't break up so easily, and they will obviously be able to talk more than once. Maybe even now?

"But when we first met, he was wearing a leather jacket," he stopped, "constantly running away," he frozed, "and he was lonely…"

The Doctor turned around, and Rose involuntarily shuddered: the feeling of deja vu that gripped her was unexpected. The man had the same look when he talked about himself on the day they met. Expressing all that pain, loneliness, guilt for the defeat and destruction of all the Time Lords. It hurt her to look at him like that. She wanted to take his hand without saying anything and just smile. To show that he isn't alone. As he always did.

But for the first time, time wasn't on her side. The moment of their acquaintance has not yet come. She had no right to interfere... though, what was she talking about? The Doctor had already sent her to Earth once, but she didn't sit idly by, but returned and saved him! And this proves once again that not all rash actions have a bad outcome.

"I felt the presence of another TARDIS on the ship. I should have guessed that my future incarnation would be there. And my future companion is with him." He spoke, emphasizing the word "future".

Rose felt awkward and breathed a sigh of relief when he changed the subject.

"This place is quite dangerous, why are you alone now?"

The girl turned her gaze to the scene of the accident and nervously bit her lip. During all that time of the short dialogue with him, she practically didn’t remember the ill-fated movement of the Doctor, and the old emotions flooded in with renewed vigor. They covered her in such a wave that Rose lowered her head, hugged herself, and sobbed loudly. Tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she stubbornly squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to completely break down.

The Doctor had mixed feelings. The realization that he (even from the future) could cause someone to cry put him in an awkward position. Something made him freeze in place, preventing him from calmly turning around and leaving. Something made him sympathize with a strange girl. Or is it because he intuitively feels that he wouldn't take a bad companion with him? The future he must have found interesting qualities in her. Bravery? Mind? Dexterity? And he can't even asks: breaking his own timeline is too much. But to leave it like that too!

The man didn’t understand how it happened. As soon as he thought about it, he discovered that... he took a stranger by the hand. The strangest thing was that the girl didn't pay any attention to it, as if this was how it should be. It's so weird… And an unusual feeling. How long has it been since he touched anyone… Why is he so worried about this? His hand squeezed hers slightly, and Rose flinched, her gaze shifting to him.

What is it? Why didn't he want to let her go? And did this happen to him from the future? A lot of questions were forming in his mind. But perhaps the most amazing thing was that she was calming down. The crying became quieter and the breathing calmer.

"Thanks." She gasped and seemed about to pull her hand away, but didn’t dare.

"For what?" The Doctor looked into her brown eyes, trying to understand what a hurricane of feelings was raging in her soul.

To think that he was interested in a human girl.

"For being here for me," she replied with a chuckle, after which a wide smile appeared on her face.

The man involuntarily noticed an interesting feature: smiling, she bit the tip of her tongue. And for some reason it made his soul feel better.

"I'm sorry for interfering with your timeline. I don't want to create paradoxes, so we'd better go our separate ways."

"I think meeting you will be the highlight of my life," the Doctor said, smiling slightly. "I do not know what your Doctor has become, but he will definitely come back. He can not help but appreciate a fantastic companion like you."

"Goodbye, Doctor. See you soon," Rose whispered, slowly releasing his hand.

After taking another look at the girl, the man strode off in the direction where he had left the TARDIS. When he almost reached the police box, he heard a man's voice and laughter through tears. Opening the door slightly, the Doctor smiled with the corners of his lips and went inside.

[mrssimply]

the people wanna know about "For services rendered" please 😚❤️

Ahahaha, of course the people wanna know about this one.

That one is the answer to @bluelolblue's prompt from... MONTHS ago. She asked for a desperate kiss. Now, you would think it would be easy wih Santino and John to have a situation where they kiss deperately. Yes. Lot of them.

But I didn't want to write something I had written before, so I dug a lil deeper into my brain, who prompty punished me by giving me a scenario that would span over (lemme check) seven chapters (and you know my chapters it's not just 1k words per chapter).

When I was stuck on TBoR, that one jumped on virtual paper right out of my fingers, and it felt GREAT. Then two things happened:

I couldn't seem to make a choice about a central information. I could neither decide how to reveal it, or how big the consequences of that central information would be on the story. Then, suddenly that central information started to make less and less sense.

It got too big. It became too complex, and I tried to reduce it, then it was not epic enough because I had a peaceful resolution but I wasn't sure it was the right way to go... Then I understood this wasn't an answer to Blue's prompt anymore but a whole story that had gotten away from me, as they always effing do!!

In conclusion, I suddenly lost touch with that story, not knowing why I was writting it anymore, why it was so complex, how to simplify it. I also kinda started to low-key hate a couple of scenes I was proud of before (but that's my normal reaction so I wasn't too worried about that).

So that story is officially on hiatus, I'll write another fic completely for Blue, and in the meantime, that one you sorta prompted (for now named With a Bang!) is going well... in my head at least xD. But that one, while having less words written, actually has a lot more chance to ever see daylight than For Services Rendered.

I think it's the first fic in a VERY LONG time that I'm considering just burying.

Did you smell blood or are you just that lucky, asking me about my faillures as an author T-T? (Joking of course, it actually feels good to let it out).

BUT since the people wanna know, here is a snippet under the cut:

“C’mon, D’Antonio, stop wasting our time and just sign it, you got everything you could’ve hoped for and more,” DeSantis growled, arms crossed. “I don’t have a pen,” Santino replied with an innocent smile.  There was a moment of bewilderment where every player around the table imagined they’d heard wrong. Who came to a negotiation without a pen, and even so, it was so childish.  DeSantis hit the table with a fist, before grabbing his lawyer’s pen and practically throwing it at the Camorra representative. He didn’t catch it, letting it fall and roll away. John hadn’t missed his cue in the meantime: he silently walked toward Santino, taking the instrument out of his pocket to hand it to Santino. Who was still playing with his lighter.  He didn’t take that pen either, and John frowned: maybe he’d misunderstood? “You know what?” Santino said, activating the flame. He didn’t bring it to his cigarette, but took one of the contract copies in his other hand. “I just remembered something.” He brought the lighter under the paper, and everyone watched it take fire with a dumbstruck expression.  “We D’Antonio don’t negotiate,” Santino finished with a deranged smile. The fever of insanity shone in his bright green eyes, reflecting the fire. DeSantis was at the end of his rope, he drew his gun. John moved by reflex, jumping over the table with the fountain pen still in his hand. He kicked the gun away with a foot, rolling on the desk to plunge the pen into the Lucchese representative’s neck.  Everything slowed around him. As he tore out the instrument, people started moving: the Five Families’ men went for their guns, but John caught one by the wrist, wrenching it to the side. He used the stylograph to stab the guy under the chin, and then twisted it in his hand to transpierce the left eye of his opponent.  He fell, like his boss, in a gurgle. In the meantime, Cefalu had gotten on his feet, and was firing in the direction of Santino. John didn’t take the time to check if his secret lover had made it, he let the flow of the fight take him to the Gambino’s leader and grabbed his head to throw him down against the table. John left him dazed to confront the last bodyguard, who was aiming at him. The hitman dived under the man’s arm, felt the bullet fly over his head, and used his open palm to hit the bodyguard’s throat. He gurgled, choking, which allowed John to take his gun. Faster than the mobster could react, John killed him with his own gun, a bullet between the eyes. Cefalu was getting up, blinking and wiping the blood away from his face. He threw himself at John with an animalistic growl. The assassin elbowed him in the solar plexus, and they grappled for a moment before John finally threw him on the table over his shoulder. He’d lost the gun, but found another pen lying on the table. Since it had worked well so far, he didn’t hesitate, and finished the crime boss by stabbing him with the instrument through his ear. The silence that followed was deafening. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears, and his heart beating wildly. He looked at Santino, who hadn’t moved if only just to light his cigarette, the burnt paper still smoking in front of him. He smiled at John as he blew out the acrid fog.

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O'Hara (Across The Spiderverse) - Chapter 8 - Final

Since it was clear that neither of you would stop trying to save the other, Miguel realized that he had no choice but to just accept it.

He never thought he’d be so disgruntled at the thought of someone putting his safety first of all things.

Deep down, he was grateful.

That’s why he knew he had to make this holiday special for you. While it was something slightly different in his universe, the concept was still the same.

Showing that special someone how much you care.

He knew he had no choice but to enlist Lyla’s help. He sucked at showing affection or getting presents. It was a miracle you’d stayed with him so long honestly. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat as you stood in his home with that usual doe eyes look on your face as you stared at him.

You had a bag with you, its contents, he wasn’t really sure. It didn’t seem to matter at the moment. He just needed some courage. With a look to the side, he pulled the gifts from behind his back, holding them out for you.

It was a plushie, one that was the very image of him in his spider suit, a small bouquet of flowers and a heart shaped box of chocolates.

“H-Happy Valentine’s Day.” He mumbled.

He still refused to look in your general direction. Your eyes were wide, because you were stunned. You knew for a fact that Nueva did not have the same holiday. So the fact that he’d researched not just the day, but also bought you gifts was quite honestly the sweetest thing ever. You’d bought your own gifts to surprise him with no intention of getting anything in return.

You just wanted to see that cute expression he made when you gave him something and he pretended like it was no deal but ultimately treasured it with his life. The little keychain you bought him was at his desk at the center and one time Peter got within a hundred feet of it he looked ready to dismember the poor guy.

It’s times like this that you remember just how fortunate you are. Your eyes watered. Miguel finally looked over and when he saw the tears, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“I can get rid of them if you don’t-”

You shook your head, wiping your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“They’re perfect.”

His gaze softened and he lowered his hands just as you pulled back and took the gifts happily from him. You were smiling brightly and at that moment, everything just felt right.

“Thank you Miguel.”

He nods.

“You’re welcome.”

With an extra pep in your step, you dragged him over to the couch as you cuddled into his chest and ate chocolates. The flowers were sitting comfortably in a vase, and you were still grinning at the plushie.

“How did you know I would love this?” You said kissing its cheeks.

“Lyla recommended it.”

Ah, that did make sense.

You giggle, kissing it some more. Miguel knew it was ridiculous to be angry at an inanimate object, but it's angry furrowed printed mask was aimed in his direction and it felt like the thing was laughing at the fact that it had your complete attention.

“You’re so adorable.”

You then persisted to leave more kisses on its cloth cheek. Miguel frowned.

“I’m taking it back.”

“What! No, you can't, it's mine.”

“You keep kissing it. I’m right here.”

“Is somebody jealous?”

You turned and he looked away. You couldn’t help but find his angry pouting face adorable.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, Miguel.”

“I’m not jealous.” He grumbled.

He definitely was.

You smile, placing the plushie on the cushions as you look back at Miguel.

“I love you most Miguel.”

“Which one are you talking about, him or me?”

You laugh, reaching over and sliding right into his lap. He’s too cute sometimes.

“You of course, only you.”

He looked over, those ruby eyes reflecting so much adoration. There were times you wondered if you’d been a saint in a past life, because it was the only explanation for such a miracle that was Miguel O’Hara. He smiled, the one he has reserved just for you, and you leaned in, lips meeting in a soft kiss.

You would never grow tired of this.

[wolfxplush]

A Taste Of Family

Oh so we like found family? BET. Colt belongs to the marvelous @redninjaoutfit

Colt tugged at Lucky’s arm, practically pulling him through the park, his steps quick and anxious. Lucky, taller and more composed, followed with a sigh, his leather jacket flapping slightly in the breeze. His usual slow pace was completely disrupted by Colt’s excitement, though he didn’t seem to mind too much.

"Come on, we’re almost there!" Colt urged, glancing over his shoulder at his older brother. There was a sense of urgency in his voice, but underneath it all, there was something softer—something that spoke of how much today mattered to him. Lucky, ever calm, gave a faint chuckle. “Relax, kid, we’re not late. Lovette’ll wait for us.”

Colt’s heart raced, but it wasn’t just because he was running. Lovette had invited both of them to the park, going out of her way to plan a picnic for the three of them. It wasn’t just for him—she’d made sure to include Lucky, too. Colt knew how much effort she put into things, always thoughtful and meticulous, and the idea of disappointing her had kept him up the night before. She wasn’t just some girl to him; she was something more, something he couldn’t quite describe. Lovette was the closest thing he had to a mother, even if neither of them ever said it out loud.

Lucky had been everything to Colt growing up—a father, a brother a friend. He was raised by his older brother. Having his two worlds combine felt like fate. As they broke through the trees, the park stretched out before them, bright and alive with the soft hum of afternoon life. And there, sitting on a large checkered blanket, was Lovette. Her sundress fluttered slightly in the breeze, the white fabric and soft floral patterns catching the sunlight in a way that made her look almost ethereal. Her blonde hair was tied back with a delicate bow, her posture as poised as ever. She waved, a soft, welcoming smile on her face, and Colt’s stomach flipped.

“See? Told ya she’s waitin’,” Lucky said, patting Colt’s shoulder lightly as they walked toward her. Colt couldn’t help but grin, his earlier nervousness melting away as he waved back. “Yeah… You were right,” he admitted. Lovette’s eyes softened as they approached, her gaze sweeping over the two brothers. “You made it,” she said, her voice light but full of a quiet warmth that always seemed to make Colt feel at ease.

Colt plopped down onto the blanket beside her, grinning ear to ear. “Course we did! Didn’t wanna keep you waitin’.” Lucky gave a more casual nod, sitting down with a little more grace, his movements slow and unhurried.“Thanks for invitin’ both of us, Lovette. This is real nice.”

Lovette smiled, her eyes flicking to Lucky with a fondness that Colt could see even if she didn’t show it as openly. “Of course. I wanted us all to enjoy this,” she said, her hand lightly brushing over the various containers of food she’d set up. “I made sure to include some things I know you’d like, too.”

Lucky’s eyebrows raised slightly, clearly surprised. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I wanted to,” Lovette replied simply, her voice gentle but firm.

Colt looked at the spread laid out in front of them. There were sandwiches, fruit, snacks—everything perfectly arranged with the kind of care that Lovette always put into things. She had packed Colt’s favorite soda, just like she always remembered, but she’d also brought some of the things Lucky preferred, like the chips he usually grabbed on their grocery trips. It was the little details that caught Colt off guard every time—how she remembered things that most people would forget.

Lovette wasn’t his mom, not in the traditional sense, but there were moments like these when he realized how much she cared, how much thought she put into taking care of them in her own way. She was the type to fuss over everything he did, a type of affection she held in everything she did, and Colt felt it deeply.

He cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward now that the moment had settled in. “Uh, thanks, Lovette. For… y’know, all of this.”

Lovette’s eyes softened even more, and she nodded. “You’re welcome, Colt.”

Lucky leaned back on his hands, a faint grin on his face as he looked between the two of them. “This is real nice,” he repeated, though this time his tone was more relaxed, more appreciative. “Ain’t every day we get to just sit back like this.”

Colt couldn’t help but glance at his brother. Lucky had always been the one who held things together, making sure Colt had everything he needed, even when it wasn’t easy. Their parents passing when Colt was only a baby. Lucky had stepped up, becoming the father figure Colt never had a chance to have. They were practically inseparable and remain that way today. When Lovette came along lucky felt unease at her sudden presence near his little brother. This proven to be silly, Lovette had proven that when she took down a bunch of townies who decided it was funny to beat up the kid.

Lovette noticed the way Colt was looking at Lucky, and her smile grew just a little bit. She reached for a sandwich and handed it to Lucky. “I hope it’s to your liking. I know you’re more of a simple eater, so I didn’t go overboard.” Lucky chuckled, taking the sandwich from her with a nod of thanks. “Looks perfect to me.”

Colt watched the way they interacted. Lucky had always been more of a father figure to him, but it was clear that Lovette had a way of grounding him, too. Lucky wasn’t one to take care of himself much—he was always looking out for Colt��but Lovette, in her own way, made sure to look out for Lucky, too. Colt didn’t miss that, and it made him feel something he couldn’t quite describe. Almost like they were all part of something bigger—a family, maybe, even if it didn’t look like the families other kids had.

As the three of them ate, Colt couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. The sun was warm, the park was peaceful, and for once, everything felt right. Colt glanced over at Lucky, who was leaning back with his hands behind his head, his eyes closed as he soaked up the sun.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doin’ this more often,” Lucky said after a moment, his voice casual but sincere. “It’s nice, takin’ a break from everything.”

Colt nodded, popping open his soda and taking a long sip. “Yeah, I could get used to it.”

Lovette smiled quietly, adjusting the bow in her hair as she looked out at the park. “I’m glad. It’s good for us to slow down sometimes.”

Colt watched her for a moment, his heart swelling with a kind of gratitude he didn’t know how to put into words. She didn’t have to do all this—she didn’t have to invite both of them, pack their favorite things, or make sure everything was perfect. But she had. She always did. And in her own way, she was there for him and Lucky in a way that no one else had ever been.

“So,” Lovette said, breaking the comfortable silence, “are you two up for a little game?”

Colt raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “What kinda game?”

Lovette reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a deck of cards. “Something simple. A little card game to pass the time.”

Lucky sat up, smirking. “You gonna hustle us, Lovette? I didn’t peg you for the gambling type.”

Lovette gave him a sly smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe. You’ll have to play to find out.”

Colt laughed, feeling more at ease than he had in days. He leaned forward, grabbing a handful of chips as he eyed the deck of cards. “Alright, I’m in. But if you start winning too much, I’m callin’ Lucky for backup.”

Lucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t drag me into your mess, Colt.”

Lovette dealt the cards with a practiced hand, her movements smooth and precise. Colt couldn’t help but admire the way she always seemed so in control, so sure of herself. Even now, with just a simple card game, she carried herself with the same grace and poise that had always drawn him to her. She was like the glue that held things together, even when he and Lucky were too stubborn to admit it.

As they played, the conversation flowed easily between them—small jokes, teasing remarks, and moments of quiet laughter that made Colt feel like everything was falling into place. He glanced at Lucky, who was leaning in, studying his cards with a serious expression, and then at Lovette, who wore a small, knowing smile as she kept her cards close to her chest.

This—this feeling of belonging, of being part of something—was all Colt had ever really wanted. And sitting here, with Lucky and Lovette beside him, he realized he had it. Maybe it didn’t look like what other people had, but it was theirs. And that was enough.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the park, Lovette looked up from her cards, her eyes meeting Colt’s. There was something unspoken in her gaze, a quiet reassurance that told him everything was going to be okay.

THE MOM AND DAD WITH THERE BABY BOY.

[2nd2ndalto]

When I Get Home to You

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 here

Will chokes out everything he remembers, or at least everything leading up to the moment he realized this kid was his husband.

Nico has pulled the footstool up to sit at Will’s feet, their knees bumping, one of Will’s hands clutched tight in both of his. By the look on Nico’s face, he still clearly doesn’t understand why Will’s quite so upset, but he’s being incredibly patient, and he’s trying. Will can always, always count on him for that. Nico passes the glass of water back into Will’s hand and waits for him to take another sip.

“So, that still doesn’t explain the sword…” Nico says tentatively.

“I know. It doesn’t,” Will sighs, retrieving his hand from Nicos’ so he can pull off his glasses and scrub both his own hands across his face.

“Nico…” There doesn’t seem to be a good way to put this. “He had the sword.” Will nods towards the unconscious boy.

Nico’s brow furrows. He glances over at the kid passed out on the couch. “He had the…”

Then Nico blinks, rises. He steps towards the couch as if he’s in a daze, seemingly taking in the young boy’s clothes, his hair, for the first time. “Will,” he says quietly, but he doesn’t turn. Instead he slowly crouches down, carefully brushes the boy’s hair off his face.

“Oh shit,” he breathes.

“Is it…” Will begins.

Nico leans back, a shaky hand over his mouth. “That’s not possible, though. How - Will, can you tell me everything again? Don’t leave anything out.”

Will does. By the time he’s finished talking, Nico has risen to his feet, though he doesn’t look any steadier. “I still don’t understand.”

“Yeah. Neither do I.”

“And he’s not… I don’t know. A monster? Some kind of shape-shifter?”

Will shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I felt him. I healed him. He felt like... well, like you. And if he’d wanted to hurt me, he had the opportunity. What - what do you think?”

Nico stills for a moment, then shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’m not getting a monster vibe.”

Will nods. He’s almost positive this kid is just a kid.

Nico exhales slowly, running his hand through his dark, overgrown hair, just long enough to scrape into a ponytail now. “How - what do we - what are we supposed to do now? He can’t stay here. I mean - not here-here but now-here. Fuck.”

Will’s trying to remember everything sci-fi has ever taught him about time travel. He thinks his media consumption should have prepared him for such an eventuality, but right now he’s drawing a complete blank. “I guess you don’t remember this happening to you? In your past?”

Nico shakes his head mutely.

“Do we take him to Camp?”

Nico takes a shaky breath. “Um. No. I don’t think so. Not yet. It feels wrong to - involve more people than necessary.”

He approaches the boy on the couch again, staring down at him with a hand over his mouth. After a moment Will rises, moves to place his hand on Nico’s shoulder. Nico covers it with his own, and once again Will feels his body warm with Nico’s now energy - yes, a little off-kilter at the moment, but strong, steady.

“Fuck, I was a skinny little punk,” Nico laughs weakly, his voice wavering.

Will wraps the dark-haired man in his arms, both taking a moment to breathe.

“Okay, how about this.” Nico steps away, looking a little more collected. “I go to Camp. You stay here with… me,” he tilts his head at the unconscious boy on the couch. “I’ll talk to Chiron, see what he thinks. And I’ll be back as soon as I can. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Will nods. “That probably makes the most sense. And I guess I’ll just -” he gestures vaguely at the kid next to them.

“Do your best to keep him here,” Nico says. “Please.”

“Of course.”

And then Nico’s in motion, collecting his sword from the umbrella stand in the hallway, grabbing his jacket off the hook by the back door. Will stands in the middle of the living room, feeling a little lost and a lot exhausted.

Nico glances back towards Will and then crosses the distance between them. Kisses him, cupping Will’s face with both hands. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into the shadow in the kitchen. ___

The house seems suddenly and unnaturally quiet with Nico gone. Will wanders back over to the boy on the couch, watching him almost without breathing. He doesn’t want to risk disturbing the boy by touching him - never mind that he still hasn’t figured out what to say to him when he wakes. But younger-Nico’s breathing is deep and regular, and his colour is good. He doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Sticks seems to have taken supervision of the boy as her personal mission, and she’s stretched out next to the couch on her side, her breath deep and regular as well.

Will rubs a hand over his short, scruffy beard. He needs to change his clothes. And then there are exams to be marked. Hopefully he can turn his mind to that for a while.

___

It’s almost two hours later when Will hears movement from the living room. There’s shifting on the couch and then the thump-thump-thump of Sticks’ tail on the hardwood floor. Will walks into the living room to see Nico sitting up on the couch, looking rumpled and bemused, Sticks’ head nudging bossily into his lap.

“Hey,” Will lifts a hand in greeting, doing his best to look non-threatening. “How’re you feeling?”

Nico squeezes his eyes shut as if trying to clear his vision. “Who are you? Where am I?”

He looks confused and a bit lost, but not nearly as nervous as before. Will supposes his surroundings look safe enough - warm yellow light spilling from the lamps in the cozy living room, a slightly overweight labrador wagging against his knee. Will has left the kid’s sword lying across the coffee table, just in case he feels the need to be armed.

“Well, I’m Will - I'm a demigod, in case that wasn't obvious. And this is my house. You’re safe here,” he adds. Unsure whether or not he should, he takes a few steps closer and holds out his hand.

The boy gives him a long look before tentatively reaching out to shake it. This time, Will’s braced himself, and he’s far more prepared for Nico’s energy. The kid’s still feeling over-exerted, but the wound has started healing well enough.

Will steps back to perch on the edge of the loveseat. “Um. Can I ask how much you remember? About what happened earlier?”

Nico rubs his eyes. “There was a monster. I guess it clawed me? I killed it. And then you showed up.”

Will takes a deep breath. Nico’s generally a lot more forthcoming now, but Will has just been painfully reminded of the Nico of 25-ish years ago. Getting any information from him was like pulling teeth. “And what were you doing… here?” Will asks. “As in, here in California?”

Nico frowns. “California? Is that where we are?”

Will nods. “That’s not where you were planning on travelling to?”

“No, I was aiming for Connecticut. Hey wait - you said you knew me. You knew my name. But I don’t know you.” Nico's eyebrows rise in surprise as Sticks makes an ungainly leap onto the couch, dropping her head heavily into his lap.

Will sighs. “Oh, sorry about her. She’s a menace. Do you want me to -” he makes to rise, yank the dog off the couch, but Nico shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay.” He scratches Sticks’ ears, and she nuzzles contentedly against him. “Um. Animals don’t usually like me.”

Will smiles. “Well, she’s a good judge of character.”

This coaxes a near-smile from Nico, and Will is reminded how rare those were, back in the day. How hard he worked to get more of them. The actual truth is that Sticks is particularly attached to now Nico, and that’s probably why she’s decided this boy is family too. But that can wait.

“Anyway,” Will shakes the memories off for now. “So the real problem, unfortunately, is that it seems you’ve… not just ended up in the wrong state.”

Nico glances up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Will presses his lips together. “Do you know what the date is?”

“I’m not quite sure. But around… September 7th?”

“Close enough,” Will agrees, “it’s the eighth. But what’s the year?”

Nico furrows his brows. “It’s 2009.”

“So, unfortunately not.”

“What?” Nico’s hand stills on Sticks’ head.

“Um. It’s 2034.”

Nico’s eyes go wide, and Will waits, trying to give him a moment to process. His gaze flickers over the boy's jacket hanging off his thin shoulders, the sharp lines of his collarbones. Dark hair falling into his eyes. Finally, the boy shakes his head. “Like, two thousand thirty-four? Twenty… Is that twenty-five years? That’s not possible.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t think so.”

“So what… how did this happen? What do I do? I really need to go,” he says, starting to look panicked. “I was just - I have to -” He makes to rise from the couch, but winces as he puts weight on his injured leg and sits back down again.

“Okay, just hold on,” Will tries to use a calming tone, “we don’t know how you got here, but we’re trying to figure it out. And I really think you should stay put until we do. I mean, this is kind of unprecedented, right? If you try to leave, I don’t know where you’ll end up.”

Nico’s shoulders slump, and his gaze drops to his feet. For a moment Will thinks he might start crying. When Nico looks up again though, there aren’t any tears, but he looks even more lost, and gods Will just wants to gather him into his arms.

“It felt… different,” Nico says haltingly. “When I shadow-travelled.” He takes a shaky breath.

Will leans forward in his seat, hands clasped, the gesture a poor substitute for a hug. “Did it? Different how?”

“I don’t know,” Nico shakes his head, now resuming his scratching of Sticks’ ears. She makes a satisfied mmph. “I guess it was harder? The air felt thicker, or something. It took a lot out of me. It’s hard to explain. Have you ever shadow-travelled?”

And his dark, dark eyes make Will feel like he’s caught in a searchlight. “Um. Yeah.” He nods, trying for a smile. “I’ve been along for the ride once or twice.” Or maybe hundreds of times.

Nico’s brow furrows. “Okay. So, how do you know me? Do you know me in 2009 or…”

“Ah. Well,” Will’s stomach twists. And really this is what he should have been considering for the last two hours, instead of grading exams. What the fuck is he supposed to say? Well, you’re actually the love of my life - neat, right? seems like way too much to dump on this kid.

“Oh hey, you know what?” Will jumps up, crosses to the kitchen grabbing his phone from the counter.

“Hold on.” He opens his social media app. He knows he scrolled past it recently - yes, there it is. Austin had posted a “Throwback Thursday” photo - Will, Kayla and Austin, arm in arm in front of the infirmary, standing beside a hand-painted vaccine poster. Will supposes he was a skinny kid himself, back then. He gazes at the picture. Is he recognizable now, as that kid? His hair now is shorter, a bit darker. He holds out the phone for Nico to see.

“That’s me, at Camp. Pretty sure that was around 2009.”

It takes Nico a moment, but he says, “Oh!” in soft surprise. “Will. Will Solace?”

Will nods, taking the phone back. “That’s me.”

“I know you. You - you were nice to me.”

Well thank the gods for that - not that Will wouldn’t have been.

“We um… I mean - I think you haven’t been at Camp much, yet, if you’re from 2009?” Just how much is Will allowed to tell this kid? He doesn’t want to fill him in on every detail of his future, but he also wants to gain his trust, at least a little. “But you and I are friends at Camp, eventually. And then later.” Well, that’s putting it mildly, but it’ll have to do for now.

“Oh,” and again, Nico seems surprised. Confused. From what Will knows of Nico, he didn’t really have much in the way of friendships before he’d returned to Camp after Gaea.

“So you’ve shadow-travelled… with me?” and Nico still sounds like he can’t quite believe it.

Will smiles. “Yup.”

Nico blinks, maybe trying to imagine a scenario wherein that would be a possibility. “This is weird,” he says finally. “Even for demigods.”

Will nods. “You’re telling me. Anyway, I should probably take a look at your leg, if that’s okay. I had to stop the bleeding, back on campus. And you should probably have some ambrosia.”

Nico looks dubious, but Will pulls the footstool up to the couch and takes a seat. “Can I - can I take a look?”

The boy doesn’t answer right away, and Will doesn’t think he’s imagining the change in his posture, like he’s trying to retreat into himself.

“Hey.” He bumps the footstool back an inch, trying to create a bit more space between them. “I kind of remember that you didn’t - don’t much like people touching you. So that’s cool - I can keep it to a minimum. But I’d feel a lot better if I could take a look.”

Nico seems to relax a bit at that. He sighs, reaching down to pull up the leg of his jeans, wincing as the fabric brushes the gauze.

Will gently takes the gauze off. The wound is definitely looking better. “That’s good,” he murmurs. “You were bleeding quite a lot when I found you. Scared me a bit.”

Nico frowns, unsure. “Well, it’s fine. I usually heal fast.”

Will shoots him a smile. “Yeah. Okay, I’m just going to touch your leg a little, right here,” he shows the boy, “just check your health bar and whatnot. Is that okay?”

“My… what?”

“Oh, sorry,” Will shakes his head. “That’s what I tell my nieces and nephews. It’s like - a video game thing.” Stupid. Even now Nico is always a little further behind on tech than his peers.

The boy looks suspicious but shifts his leg a fraction of an inch towards Will in consent.

Will places two fingers on either side of the wound. “Yup, it’s feeling much better. Good job healing,” he grins up at Nico. “Okay if I just send a little healing magic through? It’ll help you mend a bit faster. It’ll be less likely to get infected.”

“Um. Yeah. Okay.”

Will closes his eyes, and this is the harder part, where he has to go a little deeper. Where the sadness and loneliness bleed through and he has to grit his teeth to stop the tears springing to his eyes. He works as efficiently as he can though, hears Nico’s soft inhale as the heat spreads from Will’s fingers to the boy’s leg.

“Okay, good!” Will announces, trying a little too hard to sound bright, even. “That should heal up just fine. How does it feel?”

“Yeah. Better. Just a little sore.”

“Yeah, that’s normal. I think it’ll be a lot better in the morning. I’ll go grab a bandage and we can cover it up again.” Will hops up from the footstool and makes his way down the hall to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit.

When he returns, Sticks is still in Nico’s lap, but has now rolled entirely onto her back, begging for tummy rubs. Nico is obliging. Will laughs out loud and Nico gives him a shy smile.

“She’s really cute. What’s her name?”

“Oh - Sticks. But like s-t-i-c-k-s,” Will explains, sitting down to rebandage Nico’s leg. “Not like the river. And you know - dogs like sticks. It was supposed to be funny,” he shrugs. His Nico thought so anyway. Well, he at least thought it was eye-rolling-funny.

Will gives the boy’s leg a gentle pat and sits back, indicating that he’s done.

“Thanks,” Nico says softly, leaning to roll the leg of his jeans back down. The fabric is stiff with dried blood.

“You know,” Will muses, “we should probably find you something else to wear. Those jeans are in pretty bad shape. You should have something else to put on. I’m not sure how long you’ll be with us.”

“Us.” Nico’s brow furrows. “You mean you and... the dog?”

“Ah,” and wow, here’s a whole other minefield. “I actually meant me and my… um - my husband,” Will says lightly. Well. Tries. And Will can’t quite interpret the look that passes over the boy’s face, but it’s a little like panic, or shock. Both?

“Oh.” Nico’s eyes dart nervously around the room.

“He um…” Will begins, “he actually went to uh… to talk to Chiron. See what he thinks about this whole situation. I’m not sure when he’ll be back. Later tonight, I’d guess.”

The kid is looking a little cornered now, which can’t be helped, but Will’s all too aware that that look on his face often precedes flight.

“Yeah,” Will says, trying to sound light, positive. “You know, things are much better now for… um. Everyone…” he trails off.

What he’d been about to try to say was how the world is kinder for queer people in general, better even than it was a decade ago. But then he’d realized halfway through that this Nico isn’t out to anyone, as far as he knows. Gods, why does he have to talk so much?

Nico blinks, not seeming to have caught on, thankfully.

“Anyway,” Will says, changing tack. “I know you’re in a hurry to be on your way, and I promise we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can, okay? For now, though, why don’t we go find something to eat? You must be starving.” He stands. If he can't hug the kid, at least he can feed him.

Nico shrugs reluctantly.

“Come on,” Will holds out his hand without thinking, then immediately pulls it back at the look on the boy’s face. “Anything you want for dinner. My treat. McDonalds? Burger King?” That, at least, he remembers.

Nico’s face brightens a fraction. “That sounds okay, actually.”

The rest of the evening passes smoothly enough. They stop at McDonalds to eat, grab Nico a couple of changes of clothes at the mall. Will talks too much, mostly about nothing, trying to avoid sensitive topics, and Nico answers in monosyllables. It’s a little exhausting, to be honest. Will can’t help but feel relieved once Nico’s put himself to bed in the spare room. The kid really did look dead on his feet. Who could blame him. Will says a little prayer to his father that the boy will still be there in the morning.

Sticks has placed herself on guard outside Nico’s door, and Will steps around her on the way to his own bedroom. “Good girl,” he murmurs, bending down to rub the dog’s head.

___

It’s less than an hour later when Will hears a key in the front door and the familiar sounds of his Nico pulling off his boots and stowing his sword. Will’s propped up in bed next to a stack of books he’d hoped he might read. It hadn’t taken long before he’d given it up as a lost cause. He’s spent most of the last hour mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

“Hey,” Nico says softly, coming into the bedroom and pulling the door shut behind him. “He still here?”

Will drops his phone on the night table. “Yeah, sleeping. I put him in the spare room.”

“Good.” Nico approaches Will, dropping a kiss on the top of his head before pulling off his jeans and climbing into bed.

“Glad you made it back,” Will comments, brushing his husband’s bangs off his forehead. Nico’s eyes flutter closed at the touch. “I was a little worried you’d end up in 1995 or something.”

“Oh gods,” Nico blinks. “No, thankfully.”

“So, how did it go? What did Chiron think?”

“I don’t know,” Nico flops onto his back, looking a bit frustrated. “He didn’t…” Nico waves his hands in the air vaguely, “he didn’t sense a disturbance in the force. Or whatever.”

Will grins. “Seriously?”

“What?” Nico frowns, now looking a little defensive.

“Nothing,” Will smiles even wider. “Just that clearly, my work here is done.”

Nico groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Very funny. Nerd. I don’t know. He doesn’t suspect godly interference, I guess.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. Helpful as usual.” Nico shakes his head. “Anyway. How did your evening go?” he rolls onto his side so he can look at Will. “Sorry if I was a dick to you while I was gone.”

Will snorts. “No, you were - he was fine. You know. He’s just a scared, lonely kid.” Will sighs, reaching for Nico’s hand.

“He woke up, I guess?”

“Yeah. We talked a bit, I redressed his wound. We went out to grab some food and some fresh clothes for him,” Will shrugs. “Sticks really likes him.”

Nico smiles. “That’s because she’s the best. Thanks for looking after me.” He squeezes Will’s hand.

Will squeezes back. “Good thing I’m good at looking after you.”

“Did he have any idea how he ended up out of his own time?”

“No…” Will explains what the boy had told him about the shadow travel, that he hadn’t ended up where he’d planned.

“That’s weird,” Nico gazes into the middle distance. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think more about that. I’ve sometimes ended up off course, but time hasn’t ever been an issue.”

“You don’t think… Kronos?” Will asks tentatively.

Nico’s brow furrows. “I don’t think so? Hopefully not. Hey, maybe this time it’s something simple!” he laughs weakly.

The two gaze at each other for a long moment before Will shifts forward, dropping Nico’s hand so he can cup his cheek. He kisses him slow and warm, noses nudging, soft sighs mingling, slow heat building. Nico’s hand rises to settle on Will’s hip. When Will gently sucks Nico’s lower lip into his mouth, his husband lets out a contented sigh. Will pushes forward, rolling Nico onto his back and settling on top of him, gently nudging his thigh between his husband’s legs. Nico’s arms rise to wrap loosely around Will’s waist and Will presses careful kisses to Nico’s jaw line, under his ear.

“Hey Will,” Nico says gently.

“Mmm?” Will pulls back to look at him, already feeling blurry and dazed.

“That feels really good, but I um… I feel kind of weird about… fooling around… when I’m in the next room.”

“Oh shit, of course.” Will backs off immediately, flopping onto his back beside Nico, taking in an unsteady breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Nico rolls towards him, throwing an arm over his chest. “You don’t have to like, sleep on the couch or anything. It’s just… weird. I don’t know.”

“No, no, I get it,” Will sighs. “Sorry. I just… ugh. I just wanted to give that kid a hug so badly. I guess I took it out on you.”

Nico kisses his shoulder. “I don’t mind. You don’t ever need to apologize for touching me. And yeah, he needs a hug. Or twenty.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Well. I thought we could talk to Hazel tomorrow. And… I don’t know if he’ll have any ideas, but Percy was supposed to stop by.”

Will nods, gaze on the ceiling. “Yeah, it’s worth a try, I guess. I mean, we can’t keep him here indefinitely. Otherwise… you wouldn’t be here. Now. Right?” Gods, this is making his head hurt.

Nico nods slowly. “Yeah, I would guess that’s how it would work.”

Will twines his fingers with Nico’s where they’re resting on his stomach. “Are you going to tell him who you are?”

Nico blinks. “Fuck. Right. I don’t know. I guess you didn’t?”

Will shakes his head. “I didn’t want to overwhelm him. I was afraid he’d bolt. I mentioned my husband, and that you - he - and I knew each other. From Camp. But I didn’t get any further into it than that.”

Will turns to press a kiss to Nico’s lips. “I suppose there’s not much we can do tonight anyway. Why don’t we try to get some sleep and then we’ll look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow. Everything’s easier in the daylight.”

Nico hums. “You’re so smart. I knew there was a reason I married you.”

Will laughs. He pushes himself up to turn off the bedside light, then pulls the blankets up more snugly over both of them. “Um. Are you okay with taking shirts off?” he asks hesitantly. “I just - I’m just really feeling like I need to be close to you right now.”

“Yeah, of course,” Nico murmurs, immediately sitting up to yank his t-shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor

“Promise not to try to seduce you,” Will murmurs as he pulls off his own shirt and wraps an arm around his husband, settling his head under Nico’s chin.

Nico hums against his hair. “I’ll take a rain check on the seduction.”

“‘Kay.”

And gods, Nico is warm and grounding, and he smells like Nico, his energy so much more tethered than his younger counterpart’s. The skin-on-skin contact calms Will the way it always does. He drifts off to sleep feeling safe, solid.

[cyclone-rachel]

Querl used to think it was temporary.

That, when at some point Kara gained enough control over her powers that she felt comfortable returning to the twenty-first century, she would. She would say her goodbyes to his century, and retire her ring and belt to the Fortress of Solitude, exchanging them for membership in the Justice League alongside her cousin, or whatever other team was fortunate enough to have her grace their presence.

He tried to ignore it, but the possibility- and his fear- remained.

Whether it was a month, a year, or any time in between, she would leave him, and the rest of their team.

He never dared to hope for this.

~

“I just realized…” Kara said. “That I never thanked you for saving my life.”

They were sitting together on top of one of the buildings that made up the Legion headquarters, both wearing their flight rings so there was no risk of falling- although, for Kara, there was already no risk of that, with her natural flight ability.

Querl, however, needed the assistance of the ring, and when Kara spoke, he truly would have needed it if he’d lost his balance completely.

As it was, though, her words only threw him off-balance in a metaphorical sense, and he steadied himself as he answered her.

“You did not need to thank me, Kara.” he said, voice growing softer as he took her hand, not quite able to look her in the eyes. “Your remaining alive is enough for me.”

Kara smiled, and Querl’s thought tracks, as they did previously, ground to a halt.

One year later and she still has the same effect on me, he thought.

“Still, though.” she persisted. “Thank you. Really. I… I wouldn’t have wanted to know what could have happened afterward if you didn’t.”

“Yes.” Querl agreed. “I am sure that Superman would have been thrilled to hear that his only surviving relative was killed in the future, and the descendant of one of his sworn enemies was unable to prevent such a thing.”

“Good thing that you did.” Kara answered. “Wouldn’t want to know what Superman would have done to you either.”

Querl nodded.

“It is fortunate that that is one scenario we avoided.” he said. But his mind was still, somehow, focused on one particular subject.

“It has been a year since that happened. Did you remember?”

Kara smiled again. “Yeah.” She said. “It was… a difficult day for all of us.”

She doesn’t elaborate, but Querl knows completely what she means. The Dark Circle, the Miracle Machine, Mon-El… and, of course, Brainiac himself, fused with his clone siblings. Yes, it was a dark day, but the two of them lived through it, and now here they are, stronger than ever.

“But it’s also our anniversary.” Kara finished. “I could never forget that.”

“Neither will I.” he said, and she kissed him, but she soon pulled away, studying his face with concern.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Do you ever think about returning?” he asked in turn. “To the twenty-first century, I mean. You mentioned once that you came here because Batman believed you were incapable of controlling your powers properly. According to my observations while we have trained together, that seems to no longer be a problem. You could certainly make a case to him, and return to Metropolis alongside your cousin. Or even in another city altogether… if that is what you wanted.”

Kara squeezed his hand, her smile now somber.

“…Querl.” she said. “Did you think I would abandon you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” he answered, neglecting to tell her how much.

“I would never.” she said. “I can promise you that.”

She looked out, over the buildings, over the city surrounding them.

“Even before I knew this was a possibility, I never liked the twenty-first century that much.” she said. “Well… Earth specifically. I was glad my baby cousin was alive, but everything else… it just wasn’t Krypton. And I couldn’t get that out of my head, comparing the two of them. No matter how hard I tried.”

“I’m sorry.” he said, before she continued.

“This, though… It isn’t exactly like Krypton.” she said- and couldn’t help but remember her mother, and the last conversation they had, both before she left her home and within the power of the Miracle Machine.

“But it’s as good as it can be. And it’s my new home.”

“As it is mine.” he said.

“Do you ever think about your home planet?” she asked. “Going back to Colu?”

“No.” he said. “I may have been made there, but I never felt welcomed. They simply saw me as an experiment, and were waiting to see if I was a success, and could in fact overcome my ancestor… or if I was a failure, and was assimilated like the Brainiacs before me.”

“Guess that makes you a success, then.” she said.

“I did not feel like it, however.”

He may have pretended not to notice, but he still did- the confusion on the faces of the Legion founders when he first appeared as a prospective student in the Legion academy’s roster. The whispering from his fellow students, voices reminding him how little he fit in and how nobody wanted him around. The anger in Supergirl’s eyes when she recognized him as his ancestor, accusing him of trying to kill her cousin.

(The last one, at least, he and Kara could look at with amusement. It was embarrassing, even, how much they had despised each other, how little they truly knew about one another before they had come to an understanding.

And after that… it was almost too easy for such an understanding to grow into love.

After all, who could look at Kara and not fall in love with her?)

“Well, you are.” she said. “And you’re a Legionnaire now. We both are.”

“Yes.” he agreed, smiling as he looked down at their hands, and the flight rings they shared, before he kissed her again. “Shall we rejoin the others?”

“Let’s do it.” she said, already prepared for whatever came next.

And, he reflected as they leapt back to the ground, landing softly before the central building of the Legion’s headquarters, so was he.

~

Both of them, then, find that the question of deserving in their relationship has become no longer a question at all, but a statement- that of belonging.

That, despite all odds, they belong together, and nothing will take that from them for as long as they love one another, or until a world-ending crisis occurs.

For their sake, Querl hopes the latter comes first.

[paleneckauthorcowboy]

I meant to post this a lot sooner but I genuinely forgot; anyway, this fic isn't completely canon to the timeline, it's mainly just self indulgent. Tw! THIS FIC CONTAINS BLOOD, VIOLENCE, DEATH, AND CRINGE. Once again if you know me irl or off of tumblr, no you don't. Just pretend you never saw this.

This was the end, Alex lost. Even after all his efforts Tim beat him, stabbing him in the neck for the horrible atrocities he had committed while under the influence of the operator. Now, here he is, lying on the floor of the college building; as he's bleeding out he thinks back to the one he truly cared about, even under the influence of the operator.

His one true love, Kestin. He tried so hard to save him, even managing to isolate him from the source of the problem and everyone else, even going as far as to slightly distance himself, as to not let him become infected with the sickness. But, Alex could only protect him for so long. He knew the end was inevitable but he never wanted to think that when it came to his lover. Alexs' mind wanders to past memories, remembering the summer before everything went down; God.. everything was so normal back then. 

He and Kestin were on a nice little date, walking along the beach. Neither of them planned on swimming; they weren't very outdoorsy, Alex would much rather spend his time working on his laptop and Kestin prefers to play videogames, Alex occasionally looking up a walk through and giving his boyfriend hints as to what to do. They were talking about their plans for the future. "what do you plan to do after we graduate?" Kestin asked, curious about his partners after college plans.

"I'm probably just going to find an apartment and start trying to make a career as a director." Alex seemed to have most of his life already planned out. Kestin liked that about him, he was alway able to keep Kestin on track as well. "That makes sense, I might become a writer but I'm not sure." Kestin smiled, he was never really good at making plans for the future; in all fairness, he never expected to make it as long as he did. "That sounds like I'd fit you perfectly, you are very creative." Alex was not always good at encouragement, but he tries so hard for his boyfriend. 

"Aww thank you, that really means a lot to me. Do you think we'll move in together?" Kestin asked, he'd been trying to hint to Alex that he wanted to live with him for months but he'd usually be met with confusion. "It's very likely, I do have the intentions of marrying you one day." Kestin stopped walking and Alex froze, as if he hadn't meant to say what he did. "You want to marry me one day?" Kestin looked a bit nervous, not because he doesn't love Alex, he just.. is afraid that Alex might be joking.

"Well.. of course I do, I can't imagine a future without you." Alex stood infront of Kestin. "And, well, I was going to wait until we got back to my dorm but," Alex gets down on one knee and pulls a small box out of his pocket. "Kestin, will you marry me?" Alex looked at Kestin, Kestin was quickly in tears and hugging him. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh my gosh yes!" Kestin was happier than ever as Alex slid the ring onto his finger. Nothing could ruin this moment for them and nothing could ruin their love. 

And, then it starts to rain, heavy downpour. Kestin is laughing and Alex is trying to keep Kestin from getting wet as they run to the car, "That felt like something straight out of a teen movie!" Kestin held onto his arm, all giddy. "I certainly did." Alex starts up the car and drives them both back to campus. That night was one of the last happy normal nights that they had.

Which brings up back to the present, where were we? Ah, yes, Alex is bleeding out. His last thought as he slowly passes away is of his fiance, he closes his eyes for the last time. But yet somehow from just above his face he hears a familiar voice.

"Alex... Alex.. come on open your eyes." It's Kestins voice, Alexs eyes open and his face to face with his lover, Alexs head is resting on his thighs, he's smiling down at him looking so happy to see him. But, how could he be so happy? Doesn't he hate Alex for everything he did? "Shhh, it's okay, honey. I'm here, I still love you and I'm ready to spend the rest of eternity with you if you so wish." Alex hadn't even realized that he was crying as Kestin kissed his forehead and held him. "I'm so sorry for everything." Alex sat.up and held his partner close to him.

"I know, and I already forgive you, although I'm a bit sad that we didn't get to have our wedding day." Kestin kept it light hearted as he cupped Alex's cheeks, letting Alex melt into him. "Brian and Jay are here too by the way." Kestin nodded his head as he pointed behind him. Brian was sitting there kind of glaring at Alex, Jay also doesn't look too happy to see him. 

"Oh, uhh hey guys." Alex said awkwardly, "Kestin filled us about what happened, doesn't mean we forgive you though, we just won't cause issues." Brian spoke up after an uncomfortably long silence. "It'd just be counterproductive seeing as we'll be here for the rest of time." Jay added, Kestin smiled at them all. I guess this is their version of a happily ever after and everyone's story can finally come to an end.

[senbons]

After reading your answer I just realized how you always put Ino there to confirm anything us readers think about their feelings. I remember early in the story when Ino said that he couldn't hate her even if he wants to, and then the last chapter with Inoichi, I was actually a little surprised why is Inoichi suddenly there before he said anything. My interpretation is that Ino told her father about what she sees. I think Ino knew so much because her bestfriend shows so much. It is evolving like you said but it's always been there. I think Chouji saw it too but the way you portray Ino as the third person is so interesting. Oh how I really love this! I have another question tho. Do you really think if Temari agrees with him in the end to just leave, he would leave? That if he knew the choice would be between choosing her or his country, he would have never done any of this? The "I don't have to do this at all if it gives me you" is so cruel I cried like a baby. Do you think he really can do that had Temari said yes?

Ahhhhhh this is such a hard question!!! I don't know!!!!!

Okay so first off, yes Ino and Choji (though Ino more in this fic) are always playing my straight man in these comedy routines. Like, normally, they're the wackier ones and Shikamaru is the guy with everything together. But in my headcanon (and fics) when Shikamaru is the one who is a mess (which I think he always is when it comes to Temari), they're suddenly the reasonable ones who are more of "don't be an idiot just be honest and use your words" you know? Anyway yes yes Ino was there to be the only person seeing sense. I wrote that "he doesnt hate her even if he wants to" like in the initial initial bare bones outline (as a sense of how important the scene was to me). I'm so glad you brought that up and are seeing it throughout more of my stories. it makes me so happy.

Okie dokie hard question. I honestly don't have an answer. I think in my heart (or hope) my answer is No, but more of No because neither of them would've done it. If he thought she'd say Yes, he would've have offered. Ugh no or maybe not! I don't think Temari could have ever said yes. But I also don't mean to take away from his offer. He wasn't making it rhetorically. He was completely serious. He wanted to choose her. He was trying to choose her (or asking her to make the choice because he was too weak to do it on his own).

BUT. Let's say they do run off together. Even if they did make that choice, I firmly believe they would've changed their minds. I do think he genuinely meant it in the moment (and would regret not doing it for the rest of his life) but I also think he couldn't live with that choice. Like later on they will live their lives unhappily because they're not together, but they can throw themselves into their work and be nice people and create a life that is FINE -- not as good as it would've been, but FINE. RIght? But if they chose each other and ran off they'd never be able to continue on. Even if they ran off into the sunset and got a little house by a seashore in a small town, they wouldn't last. They couldn't find even a "fine" life if they felt as though they'd abandoned their respective people. Or maybe put another way: if they choose each other, they betray their people; if they choose their people, they betray themselves.

And both can live having betrayed themselves. They cannot live having betrayed their countries.

So yes I guess -- to answer your question five thousand tangents later -- I do think it's possible they would leave, but I don't think there is any possibility that that lasts. In the end, both will choose their people over each other.

(^and despite the intensity and truth of that statement, in THIS story, I should emphasize that that is kind of a false dichotomy... they are not mutually exclusive despite shikamaru's attempt to make them as such. i think he could choose both, he just doesn't seem to think so)

Ugh okay I'll stop. I think this is my favorite question so far thank you thank you!!!!

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

s1ep1 stormy weather

man the creator really should have never said he was heavily inspired by magical girl anime (read: sailor moon) bc now all i do is making comparisons as i rewatch

the pacing felt better until the very end, when the writers started to have to wrap things up. like the fact that either of them can just look at someone and go, "huh they look pretty similar, they must be the akumatized person" and "and the akuma must be in her umbrella" is ASTOUNDING

it's too contrived. it doesn't make sense! how did they logic that out in 0.2 seconds? bc the plot needed them too?

again it's a symptom of the creator taking elements he liked from sailor moon and not knowing what to do with them or how to incorporate them into something original. if he was going to have the concept of akuma that infect an object that's special to the victim, then he should have spent more time coming up with a way for ladybug and chat noir to figure out what the object is when they encounter an akuma.

in sailor moon they completely skipped past that problem by not having the evil eggs infect an object, just the person. and the creator/writers should have done something similar or, again, thought longer and harder about how ladybug and chat noir would logic that out.

another thing i thought about at the end is the fact that s1 and s3 are interchangeable.

the other issue i have with ml that i've stated before is the fact that the writers treat it like a serialized show when the structure is episodic and don't even attempt to strike a balance between the two, which has been done time and time again, so we know it's possible with competent writers.

specifically, i was thinking about power-ups bc again, you could pick out most episodes from s2 or even s3 and place them into s1 and someone who's never watched the show wouldn't bat an eye.

and what i mean by power-ups is that every new season of sailor moon, her heart crystal that powers her make-up pouch (i forgot what they call it laksdjf) gets damaged and she has to do a little soul-searching before getting a power-up/upgrade. not only does she get a new look, but the heart crystal evolves and gives her new powers to face their new enemy, and gets character growth with it.

and what facilitates this is often them facing a new, more powerful enemy! it's a really good set-up for a new season and a really good way to raise the stakes! what's more is that sailor moon is often worn out or can't use her powers to their full ability, which i feel like really grounds her character.

the problem with ml is it never does that. sure, they have magic food that helps them adapt to different environs when needed, but neither ladybug nor chat noir ever get a permanent costume change/upgrade. their powers never fail them at a critical moment, forcing them into a character growth arc. and likewise, hawkmoth never really becomes more powerful than he already is.

i know in later seasons, they try and pretend he's growing more powerful by revealing the peakcock miraculous, and at one point obtains all, or most of, the miraculous and wears them. but that's a false and forced raised stakes.

we already know ladybug is going to think of a way out of it. bc she always does. she's never faltered. there's never really a moment in the show where we feel like she's actually in danger of not beating the bad guy.

but in sailor moon? god i can still remember how i felt after that first season, watching sailor moon's crystal lose its power and shine, and her detransforming. it was terrifying!!

and we never get anything like that in all 3 (i say 3 even tho there are 5 bc i haven't watched any episodes from 4 or 5 and am giving it the benefit of the doubt even tho i shouldn't and honestly don't) seasons.

everything is stagnate. the writers treat the show like it's both serialized and episodic, but only write for it as if it's episodic. and it's a worse show for it.

[overnightheartbeats]

Jack had come in like a hurricane, dropped all the pieces of things they didn't want to talk about, and skipped away. She was silently cursing the woman for bringing these things up, things she had tried to bury for so long. Any progress she had made towards that came undone so quickly. Not that it was solely Jack's fault. When you spend a decade with someone, the smallest details trigger memories. For her, it was the earl gray tea, the drive to work, and the long sleeve button up shirts. It helped that they didn't live in the same place anymore, distance helped keep her heart afloat. Sometimes, she did think back to the cozy apartment they shared. All the things they left behind in that half-empty place, but it was probably for the best.

His green eyes met her brown ones, and she could swear that her heartbeat was accelerating. Words weren't enough, but his gaze told her everything they were too hesitant to say out loud. He remembered too. Neither had forgotten that wonderful night in Panama. Did he not believe her? It wasn't far-fetched when ten years of her life had been intertwined with his. In fact, if Laurel really gave it some more thought, she'd name all top five moments, and all would include him. ❛Yes, really,❜ she confessed quietly. Their breakup had changed her, torn her up in a way that she couldn't find repair for. Their memories were not necessarily tarnished, but thinking of them would allow for sadness to take them over. Then, joyous memories had that hint of melancholy. Still, Laurel cherished them, holding on to the happiness she once had.

His reassurance meant something to her, no matter how much she denied it in her mind. Laurel glanced down at the ground. ❛I know,❜ she exhaled with a shake of her head. ❛You're not like that, and don't worry. I know you wouldn't. That's probably why she's so irritated. But, for the record, if you were interested..in her, or anyone else, you're free to do that. I know my place.❜ Her new place, at least. Colleague, partner in crime. Nothing more, and nothing less. That place didn't include her dictating whether he could date again or not. There was a tiny part of her that suspected that their breakup was not related to how he felt. Though maybe, she was just very hopeful. It just didn't make sense to her, how ten years of love could just fade away overnight. ❛True she does, and yeah I know. Campbell mentioned something about the CIA.❜ Laurel was confused why he mentioned it. Momentarily, she felt her heart shrink at the thought that he also was suggesting she go. The sigh of relief was inevitable. The thought of leaving had crossed her mind for a second, then brought back in when Jack was pushing for it. It seemed like the easiest thing for them both, put more distance between them. Jack had been right earlier though. Laurel would rather have him as a partner, than lose him completely. ❛You don't?❜ There was a slight tone of disbelief in her voice. ❛I don't want to go. It just seemed like a viable choice to make this easier for us. It's fine Eli. You did what you had to, for yourself. Things happen, feelings change.❜ Laurel offered him an unconvincing smile.

Laurel never expected to feel his touch again, but it still brought that warmth to her chest. Her mind darted to the two people waiting for them by the car, but part of her hoped they'd grow tired and just leave. With Jack though, that was unlikely. It probably wasn't smart of them to tangle up their, already, complicated past and work relationship. She wanted to come clean and tell him, she missed him too. More than she could ever put into words, but her shattered heart was not letting her sign up for more heartbreak. ❛I don't know what you want me to say to that. Greatest mistake or not, you ripped my heart apart. Okay, so I miss you too, but what good does that do?❜

He knew what Jack had done and while he wasn't a fan, he couldn't help but thank her for opening this can of memories. Ones he had long tried and failed to suppress. There were times when he looked at Laurel and thought back to the buttons. Nothing triggered it but it came to him randomly and would remember her fingers doing the buttons but leaving three open just because. The thought made him smile. They had so much domesticity that he thought it was because they had been best friends before. Naturally, would make any couple instantly comfortable.

He locked eyes with her, something in them told her he hadn't forgotten. How could he? She was the best he ever had and while that had been true, the fact he hurt her had made him feel guilty. Especially after everything they did to make sure they would make it.

The little gleam of a smile was clear as he turned his head and looked at her. ❛Really? ❜ He wasn't curious for dumb male reasons but he was curious over the fact that their break up hadn't actually tarnished that memory for her. He would keep this close to his heart. Something about the way she said it made a piece of his broken heart mend on the spot.

❛I know but I want to make sure that you know that I wouldn't. Even before we started, you knew I wasn't like that. I'm just not interested. ❜ A part of him wanted her to understand what he was trying to say, not that he knew what he was actually talking about. A decade with someone was a lifetime and there was no way anyone would compare or come close to her. That he didn't break up with her because he didn't love her. ❛You want to switch? Jack just wants you out of her hair. If you want to ascend, there's a CIA recruitment coming up. ❜ He didn't know why he was actually telling her this. ❛I don't want you to leave is what I'm getting at. But I will understand if you can't after what I did. ❜ The guilt seeped through his voice as he lowered it.

As they walked he sighed and stopped her by reaching out to her stomach. ❛I'd miss you. I miss my best friend. Not that I have any right to that anymore but you should know that. I can't look at you in the eye not because I hate you but because I can't look at you and not see my greatest mistake. ❜ With that he left it and smiled softly as he let out a sigh.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Or

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

[buckyownsmylife]

You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”