#one of the kids this week loved and was scared of that in equal measure

[aparticularbandit]

one of my current phone backgrounds, by the way

[cebwrites]

Konohamaru: Origins

a/n: the title's a little misleading-- yes konohamaru is heavily featured, but this is mainly about his dad who's an oc 🫶

oc | gen word count: 1.9k

When Konohamaru was born, Azura and the Third had a huge blowout argument. Namely over the fact that Konohamaru came to them in a basket on their doorstep, brought in by ANBU guards.

Hiruzen was furious at his carelessness, insisting that they sent the unnamed infant to a foster family or at least a shelter because there was no way he was ready to take on a child; let alone a baby. Azura, just barely 19 and out of his mind with stress and other overwhelming feelings, refused.

Asuma made the mistake of questioning the legitimacy of this claim and ignited an entirely new argument in the confines of their living room. Part of him wished he could swap places with the ANBU outside ordered to pacify the kid over all this screaming.

It was the first time Asuma had seen their father that upset and his brother that angry and culminated in a silence that permeated the house for at least a week, only broken by the baby's babbles or midnight crying. Eventually, Azura left. Packed up his newborn son, everything he could fit in an overnight bag, his mother's picture with the basket Konohamaru came in, and slammed the door behind him.

It took around an hour for the adrenaline to wear off for Azura to realize he was out on his ass.

He considered his options; a hotel would be a quick fix but he didn't know if the money he crammed into his pockets would last, Hyou had two other young siblings already at home, so did Tsume (she also scared him), and as much as he loved and respected his other team mate, something about Sou told him that his house probably wasn't fit for a baby.

Azura felt the grace of god that day when Hizashi was close enough to the front of the Hyuga compound to see him begging another branch member to let him see his sensei at this time of night.

He was brought indoors immediately, if only to take the bundle of fussy hands and chakra not dissimilar from his own held so closely to Azura's chest Hizashi was worried his grip was too tight. Once Konohamaru - a named decided on by the Third - was fed Hiashi stepped in to see what all the commotion was about and locked eyes with his brother's student.

He looked a mess; bloodshot eyes and a heavy 5 o'clock shadow, the rest of him looked mildly unkempt from his tussled hair to the single fingerless glove and uneven bandages. His stare was vacant as he attempted to lull his son to slumber. If not for the knowledge of his specific circumstances, Azura would've been just the standard image of a new parent.

Hiashi had a litany of questions and protests, but his twin wordlessly communicated that they'd talk about it later with a motion of his hand. He had a teenager on the verge of tears with a baby in tow. Hizashi had heard rumors in the few days prior but he never took village gossip to heart; but more importantly it was his student that came knocking for help, and Hizashi fully intended to offer it.

Come sunrise, Hyou and Soitsu were called over for an impromptu team meeting - only to be met with their sensei's son curiously watching an unfamiliar baby play with one of his old toys. Before this, Azura was sure he'd never seen both his team mates' pupils not at least partially covered by their eyelids. He was immediately bombarded with questions, concern and confusion in equal measure, and it took the better half of the morning to fully answer everything.

Among those questions, Sou was the one to pose what Asuma had said initially; if Konohamaru even was his baby. The answering elbow in the rib from Hyou and their team mate's twisting expression did nothing to deter him. Sluggishly, Azura pulled a note from his pocket - the only other thing that had arrived with Konohamaru aside from the basket.

It spoke of how the woman who'd left him had planned to keep this a secret, how she thought she could handle it all on her own without burdening him but ultimately a child was too much of a burden for her, and that she was sorry. Azura knew the penmanship well, because he'd been writing letters to her for a year or so prior to their meetup. She was a nice girl who lived near the port and offered him a hiding place while he fought the missing-nin plaguing their small merchant town.

Remembering the argument he had with his father about tracking her down to give the child back bittered the taste of Azura's tea as he sipped.

When all was said and done, the sun was close to the horizon. They'd spent all day just lounging about on Hizashi's porch, no closer to a solution for Azura's lodging. For the Konohamaru's sake, the idea of sucking it up and just going home was floated around a lot but he was still too angry to so much as look at his father. Azura wouldn't be able to leave the village on missions, either, unless he found someone to babysit his son for extended periods of time - and everyone here had their own mouths to feed.

What they landed on? Was that Azura and baby Konohamaru would stay the Hyuga compound, at least for the moment. Hizashi was sure his brother and the elders would protest and write up a long list of their objections, but their sensei insisted that it would be better for Konohamaru's overall wellbeing to not be exposed to too many germs and different environments if his father had to bring him on the move constantly.

Hyou offered to babysit when he could, since they were already juggling Hana and Kiba in their spare time for Tsume. And, uneasy as he looked, Sou promised he'd support him as best he could as a friend, whenever he asked, through the likelihood of him babysitting was very low, being completely transparent with him.

Azura was so happy he could cry. So he cried, and he wept at the feet of his team in prostration and eternal gratitude.

Weeks passed and everyone got on with their lives with these new (although temporary) arrangements. Jaws dropped, Azura explained the situation that brought him here over and over again, he was quite tired of this rinse and repeat cycle honestly. Reactions ranged from shock to unearned praise, and understandable concern. By the end of it, he had half a mind to just let the rumors catch everyone up because it seemed like half the village already knew anyway.

He was lucky enough to catch Tsunade on her way out of the village with Shizune to run a last minute check-up to make sure Konohamaru was the happy, healthy, bouncing baby boy he seemed to be.

Months had gone by, knowledge of the Third Hokage's new grandson had run its course through the village and soon became old news. Azura hadn't taken any new missions in that time, but he subsisted on the help of his friends and Hizashi's grace.

Lord Third was sure his son come crawling back soon, realizing just how (right Hiruzen was) difficult parenting would be and secede to his father's perfectly reasonable solutions. But the longer he waited, the longer Azura's absence weighed on him. Hiruzen considered just calling him into his office as an order from the Hokage, but he didn't think that would go over too well.

Asuma called his bluff, pointing out that he was just scared of rejection if Azura refused to come home and if he really cared about his brother like he claimed to, he'd get off his ass and talk to him instead of creepily watching his son and grandson through a crystal ball like some kind of weirdo. Hiruzen huffed and puffed his pipe, muttering something under his breath about the right timing long after his youngest had left the Kage's office.

His moment came in Azura's darkest.

After only a handful of months living there, Azura had to find a new home for him and his son with the death of Hyuga Hizashi. Sensitive information that was only shared with other people at the top in Konoha and their guards that had to pretend not to know - but considering one of his students was living there, he might as well let them all know; it was only fair that he told them beforehand.

The team was devastated, whether they showed it or not, but no one was more shattered than Azura - the most tenderhearted of the three of them. Of course they were, these were kids that Hizashi practically raised. Hiashi wasn't cruel enough to throw an almost 20 something and his infant son out on the day of, but there was an expectation that they'd have to leave eventually, ideally soon. Azura and Hyou made sure to check on Neji even in their own grief, the boy was inconsolable the last they saw him. But without Hizashi there to give them away in, Neji would once again be sheltered away (from outside harm but also comfort) in the private Hyuga compounds.

Azura returned home begrudgingly. Asuma helped him move his things back that Hyuga branch members so graciously packed up without his knowledge while Azura was out on a mission and Konohamaru was at Hyou's. He tried cracking a joke about their stuffiness to his brother as they walked but it fell flat, predictably.

His brother didn't do much else but walk around in a fugue state for the next few days; still caring for his son in familiar motions Azura would be able to do with his eyes closed, but his mind was far enough away for autopilot to kick in.

Finally. Finally.

Hiruzen scooped Konohamaru out from his slumbering father's arms and put him back in his cot. Azura awoke with a startle a moment later; reflexes far too late from an ANBU Black Op, but sooner than one would expect a grieving, sleep deprived young man.

The Third quietly lamented about how Biwako would scold him for sleeping in the same bed with him and Asuma, go on long tirades about how delicate babies were and how the smallest things could put their health in incredible danger. As a medic-nin, the lecture was to be expected, as their mother, Biwako would have a conniption every time she caught her husband doing it.

Azura immediately got up to check on his son, only half listening to his father's spiel but once he was sure Konohamaru was okay - almost paranoid that he'd vanish into thin air if he didn't see him or touch his little hands - Azura sat on the edge of his bed with a heavy creak. After a moment, Hiruzen joined him.

Azura's voice was hoarse when he asked if his mother would be as angry at him as Hiruzen was if she were around to see him in this mess. The Third picked his words carefully; they were both aware of the kind of woman Biwako was - a stern, but loving mother, the strong head on her shoulders was what Hiruzen fell in love with the way she'd always push her husband and children to the best versions of themselves, despite Azura's tenderness as a perceived weakness.

Ultimately, Hiruzen says that even if his mother might have her misgivings, her worries for both her son and grandchild, that she'd come to love them both all the same as he did.

Azura cried in his father's arms that night. Just down the hall, Asuma was surprised he didn't wake the baby with his bawling.

[presidentdisastraofgallifrey]

I don’t generally care much for human aus for Doctor Who, but I did just come up with a list of what I think each of them would be doing as a human. Here are the bits I found mildly amusing:

One runs the only boarding house in town with his granddaughter and delights in trolling the various weirdos they house. They live in a sit com

I don’t know what Two is doing with his life but he definitely adopted both Zoe and Victoria in completely illegal ways—saw scared orphaned teenagers, offered them a home, was gone the next day

Adric is Four’s biological child but no one can for the life of them guess who the mother might have been

I think Peri should be Five’s kid but she didn’t live with him until college so they’re still getting to know each other

Also Five has a weird homo erotic rivalry with his neighbor across the street about, like, lawn maintenance and stuff

Possibly even TWO separate weirdly homo erotic rivalries at the same time

Ace is Seven’s kid but she also didn’t live with him for most of her life. She loves it though because he gets bored every six months and moves cities and changes careers. Also he lets her have as many fireworks and pocket knives as she wants

Nine lives in the flat above Rose staring out the window sadly until she makes him do stuff

Eleven is Clara’s roommate which is good because he makes money with an Etsy store he usually forgets about while she has a career. They are, however, equally chaotic and frequently arrested for general mayhem

Twelve is a beloved eccentric professor. He has a wild on-again-off-again relationship with his (trans) girlfriend and somehow accidentally offers to let students live with him if they have nowhere else to go. Like, more than once, despite swearing he wants to be left alone

Thirteen rents a bedroom from Graham (and by extension Ryan) and works (this week) at a museum. She quits or gets fired in about equal measures, both very frequently

Fifteen lives fairly permanently at a hotel owned by his bff Anita, but he’s not always there. When he gets bored or needs to run away from his thoughts, he vanishes for weeks or months. I haven’t decided what happened to his ex, but I know he’s trans because Rogue is an extremely trans name

*NONE OF THESE IMPLY THAT I NECESSARILY FIND ANY GIVEN RELATIONSHIP TO BE PARENT/CHILD IN CANON. IN GENERAL COMPANIONS ARE JUST THE DOCTOR’S WEIRD COLLECTIBLE FRIENDS

[susanlerner]

Delivery--published in Bluestem Magazine

The line turned blue. I was ecstatic.

Charles' brow furrowed.

Our girls are still babies, he said.

So, they'll be close in age, I said.

I'm not sure I'm ready for a third, he said.

I had always wanted three children. Truth was, our two-child family reminded me of my isolated childhood, just me and my brother, our parents out of control and absent. Our basement housed a Primal Scream box; vials of lithium littered our parents' dressers. A third baby, I was sure, would serve as a stop sign to the barrage of lonely memories. Raising two kids would be too quiet. Three kids equaled a party. Charles's uncertainty paled in the face of my desperation.

The pregnancy was eventful.

Six weeks: 104-degree fever.

Patience and Tylenol, said the OB.

Nine weeks: heavy bleeding caused by prenatal diagnostic test. Frozen in bed, thighs clenched, I figured I'd blown it, would never get another chance at having a third. The next morning, a bloody pad bunched between my legs. The ultrasound wand, unbelievably, found a heartbeat. My tears of happiness thudded softly on the exam table paper.

Twenty-eight weeks: motionless baby sent a panicked me to the ER.

The heartbeat's loud and strong, the OB said, her voice calm and measured.

I went limp with relief.

Thirty-six weeks: low amniotic fluid per ultrasound.

I waddled down the hall to the high risk OB. He smeared the dome of my abdomen with goo.

Well?

Baby's fine, but we need to watch carefully.

Thirty-eight weeks.

Time to schedule the delivery, said the OB.

But it's two weeks before my due date.

Tomorrow, she said.

Charles narrowed his eyes upon hearing this news. His physician friends had told him stories about deliveries gone wrong, and he had been anxious at our girls' births.

It'll be fine, I said. Charles sighed and reached for my hand.

Push, said the OB.

You can do it, said Charles.

The nurse must have said – It's a boy! I must have smiled. The baby cried. The nurse took him aside to be cleaned up.

Mary, page the surgical team, said the OB in a clipped tone.

The doctor pushed one hand up deep, while the other smashed down on my belly from the outside.

Where are they, Mary? asked the doctor, her usually congenial voice sharp.

The OB removed her hand, walked to the wall and pressed the red button on a chrome panel before returning to the valley between my stirrups. Elbow-deep inside me she moved her hand along my innards, as if searching for a ring in a dark room.

What's wrong? I asked, scared.

She continued without answering. Charles sucked in his upper lip. I imagined I had become a character in one of those stories about life-threatening post-delivery placental problems. The normally unflappable OB barked orders to the nurse in a voice I did not recognize.

My son lay, red like Esau, jerking tiny feet and fists, in a clear Plexiglas bassinet. It became clear to me, there on the delivery table, that now that I had successfully – and selfishly – brought our third child into the world, I might die. I might never see my son flash a toothless grin, never know if he preferred chocolate or vanilla. And my girls: still watching Barney, still in patent leather Mary Janes, would they grow to be math/science nerds or humanities lovers? Love spicy curry or be white food kids? Adamant that three children would spare me from the lonely memories of my untethered upbringing, I had doomed them to growing up without a mother. And Charles. None of us would get the life I worked so hard to create.

Paper ripped. The nurse swabbed cold between my legs. My nostrils tingled from an antiseptic smell.

Cancel the page, said the OB.

She must have said something like I'm not worried anymore. Or I see what happened now. Or false alarm.

All I remember is that from the space between my knees I saw her face soften, and the creases on her forehead smooth.

Thank you, God, I whispered through tears.

The baby wailed.

Charles squeezed my hand.

[userautumn]

thank you. sorry, i just don't really have anyone to talk to right now.

so my mom passed away a few years ago with covid and it was hands down the worst thing that's ever happened. end of the world, sun exploded, earth left a barren wasteland kind of thing. she was my best friend. i adored her and she loved me so so much. more than anybody probably ever will. and sometimes i feel like i dreamed her. like her being gone has become so normal that it almost feels surreal that she was ever here at all. and i miss her so much. but i'm still here, i still get up and brush my teeth every morning and go about my day and it fucking sucks because she should be here. and there are days when i'm folding the laundry that it hits me all over again. there is a place where she used to be and i'm just moving around it and through it like it's nothing and i get so pissed at myself. she was my whole fucking world, how is it that i can just carry on?

i'm sorry, i just got hit with this wave and it feels like no one misses her as much as i do. and no one really wants to keep talking about how sad they are that she's gone. sometimes it feels like everyone's forgotten her and i'm scared that one day i won't remember what her voice sounds like or how she used to laugh at her own dumb jokes and she used to stand on a stair to be a little bit taller than me when she hugged me. i'm sure there are loads of things that i've already forgotten and i hate it so much.

First of all, I don't ever want you to apologize for coming to me about anything. You're okay. I would have said no if I didn't want to listen, and this is a safe space for your feelings. So that's number one.

Number two, what I'm about to say is not even remotely the same but some years ago, my friend died. Her name was Rachael. She was 19. We weren't even close but we went to the same school together for a short time before she graduated and, even though she was way older than me, she was so nice to me. We would talk about the Bible, and she had such a genuinely warm, kind, and calming presence — the kind of presence I haven't really witnessed from anyone since.

I haven't thought about Rachael in years, but lately, she's been on my mind. At least once or twice a week, I'll think about her and recall her face and her smile and it makes my chest ache. No one really talks about her anymore. Even before I fell out of contact with people from my high school, only a year after her death, people stopped talking about her and it made me wonder if I imagined her. I wondered that for a while (unlike you, I didn't have the benefit of intimacy and proximity so my memories of her were wispy. Paper-thin. Look too close at them or pull too hard and they disappear).

But lately my memory has been reaching for her. She was here, and she was real, and I loved her. I was probably just some kid to her. I don't even know if she would have considered us friends, but she was real to me and I miss her. I don't recall her perfectly, I don't even know if I remember her voice, or if the voice I imagine for her is one I've made up in my head, but... it's still her, and that's what living with grief is. It's reaching for the memory even if you don't recall it perfectly.

As gently and lovingly as possible, there are things about your mom that you will forget. You might forget her laugh, or the sound of her voice, her smell, her jokes, her favorite song, and it will feel like losing her all over again. But that moment when you reach for those memories, imperfectly recalled as they are? That's you reaching for her. That's you acknowledging the fact that she was here, she was real, and you loved her. Equally as important, she loved you. Even if you forget everything else, you'll remember that because her love for you is the one thing that has shaped and defined your life beyond measure. You don't forget something like that.

I don't know if this is helpful at all because I haven't yet walked that path you walk. But I hope you feel seen, and acknowledged, even just a little bit. Love you dearly. Please don't feel guilt for moving along (because you never really move on, not from something like that). I didn't know her, but if she loved you as much as you say she did, as I know she did, for how deeply you feel her absence, I feel certain your mom wouldn't want that. Be good to yourself in every way possible, okay? 🫶🏾

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 17 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello my loves, just a reminder that I am still on vacation so the queue is posting this! Will respond to ur taglist requests and messages ASAP love u all :) 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of death, violence, drug use

wordcount: 2k

You and Aaron each read Jack a book of his choosing before tucking him into bed and heading towards Aaron’s bedroom together. Bringing your pajamas into the bathroom, you change and brush your teeth with the door closed, which feels silly, given everything, but you can’t help it.  Aaron slips into the bathroom as you step out, and you sit on top of the covers, hands folded in your lap, anxiously awaiting his return. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asks, clocking your anxiety immediately. 

“Nothing, I just feel bad that I got us caught by Jack,” you confessed, looking down at the comforter. 

“I couldn’t be less upset about that,” he assures you, climbing into bed beside you and taking your hand in his. “I mean, he practically told us that he already knew, even if he was a little confused.” 

“That was the other thing-- sorry that marriage and all of that got brought up. I’m sure that was---”

“I’m not upset about that, either.” He interrupts you. “Did I do something to make you think I was upset?”

“No, no,” you assured him. “It’s just kind of early for that kind of stuff, I’m sure it was uncomfortable--”

“It wasn’t uncomfortable. Apparently I’ve done a bad job of expressing how strongly I care for you, and I’m sorry for that.” You go to interrupt, but he cuts you off. “I couldn’t be happier that Jack knows how much I love you. Sharing that with our people-- my son, and our team-- is not something you need to apologize for, or something I’m ashamed of. I’m thrilled to be able to love you openly. No more apologies, okay?” 

Your breath caught just a little, but you hold it together. “No more apologies,” you agreed. “Aaron, it’s such a privilege to be loved by you,” you whispered, needing him to know how much his words meant to you but scared to ruin the moment. Aaron just shook his head, leaning to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he whispers into your hair, and you close your eyes, letting the peace of his touch overwhelm you. 

“There’s one more thing,” you said, after a moment. 

“And it’s not an apology?” Aaron checks. 

“No, it’s not an apology,” you assure him. “I wanted to thank you for sharing those pictures with Jack and me tonight. I’m sure it was emotional, but I was glad to see them. You love Haley so much. Thank you for sharing her memory with me.” 

“She was the reason I got up in the morning, from the day I met her until the day she died.” Aaron tells you, and you squeeze his hand.

“Everyone knew how much you loved her, Aaron. Even after the divorce, there wasn’t a single person at the bureau who knew a man who loved his wife that much.” You assured him.

“But it wasn’t enough. I failed her, and I could fail you too.”

“No, Aaron, no you didn’t. You promised to love her for as long as you lived, and you didn’t break that promise. You didn’t promise her you’d never change, and she never promised you that she’d never change. You both changed, but you never stopped loving each other.” You told him.

“How did you know? How did you know that I never stopped loving her? Didn’t that scare you out of loving me?’ Aaron whispered. 

“Aaron, the way you love her shows in everything you do. You never took a picture of her down, even after the divorce, when I’m sure they were painful to look at. You always let her know you were safe at night, and when she left you, you helped her move and made sure she had everything you needed.” 

“And that doesn’t scare you? That even when she left me, I still loved her?” 

“No, Aaron, it doesn’t scare me. That’s how I feel about you, so I understand.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Aaron says immediately-- how could you mean that? When Haley was so refined, so beautiful, so compassionate, and he was just a man, a man with baggage and trauma and a dark past?

“Of course I do, Aaron. I never told you this, and I might be selfish in telling you now-- but in the weeks after Haley died, I went to bed at night praying that time would move backwards and that I could take her place. I’d do anything to get her back to you, even if it meant that you and I never made it here.” 

“It’s an incredible privilege to be loved by you,” Aaron echoes your earlier statement, and you smile.

When you wake up the next morning, you realize that you’re never going to get a good night’s sleep without Aaron beside you again, and you love him and hate him for it in equal measure. Your anger is quickly forgotten when he rolls over and starts planting kisses across your face. 

“We have to get Jack to school,” you reminded him with a smile between kisses.

“We’ve got time,” he brushes you off. 

“You’ve got time, maybe. My hair is a mess from napping on your couch and I have to do my makeup,” you reminded him, planting one final kiss on his lips before rolling out of bed and heading towards the bathroom.

When you’ve gotten yourself ready for the day, you make your way out to the kitchen, were Jack is sitting in front of a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice. 

“Morning, little man,” you said, ruffling his hair and smoothing it back down as you sat in the seat next to him. Aaron crosses the kitchen with two plates, putting a piece of toast with peanut butter and banana slices in front of you, and one on his own placemat. 

“Thanks, honey,” You smile, taking a bite of your breakfast as he sits.

“Dad? Can we go to the soccer field tonight after work?” Jack asks as his father settles in.

“I can’t promise tonight, but we can definitely go this week, okay bud?” 

“Okay.” 

“Finish your breakfast, kiddo, or you’re gonna be late,” you told him, taking your plate to the sink and prepping travel mugs of coffee for you and Aaron, who shepherds Jack through the last few steps of getting out the door. You follow them down to the car and Aaron drives down the road to Jack’s school. You sit in the carpool line for a minute, listening to Jack point out his friends as they walk into the building, before Aaron pulls up to the curb and it’s Jack’s turn to get out. Aaron rolls down the window as Jack collects his things. 

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Hotchner,” a peppy brunette woman who you’re pretty sure is Jack’s teacher ducks down to make eye contact with Aaron through the window.

“Good morning, Ms. Meadows.”

‘Oh, and who’s this?” Ms. Meadows says, taking note of you for the first time. Aaron introduces the two of you, and you notice her looking you up and down, almost sizing you up. 

“Nice to meet you,” she says perfunctorily, turning her attention back to Aaron almost in an instant. “Did Jack tell you about the volunteer sign ups for the kids’ talent show?” 

“He did, I think his Aunt Jess--”

“Oh, that’s right, Jess did mention to me that she’d be here!” Ms. Meadows interrupts. “I guess I was just hoping to get some strong FBI dads in the building to help set up the stage equipment,” she pouts, and you briefly entertain the thought of leaning over the center console and wiping the pleading look across her face. 

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” Aaron says, blissfully interrupted by Jack waiting to give him and you a kiss goodbye. The two of you kiss both of his cheeks, and he hops out of the backseat and takes off towards the main entrance. 

“She was pleasant,” you note sarcastically when Aaron pulls out of the parking lot.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, looking over at you briefly, his nose scrunched up in confusion. 

“She’s clearly into you, Aaron.” You said, knowing it was obvious and he was just being oblivious. 

“What? No she’s not,” Aaron shook his head. 

“Oh, Mr. Hotchner, please come save me from the Woodbridge Elementary School talent show. I need your big, strong muscles to move all this heavy equipment because I’m just a docile young lady,” you mimicked Jack’s teacher in an exaggerated tone. 

“Now, if she had said that, then maybe I would have thought she was into me,” Aaron laughs at your dramatics. 

“She gave me a nasty look. She doesn’t like that she has competition.” You argue. 

“She doesn’t have competition. I mean, there is no competition. There’s just you, and that’s how I like it,” he said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grab yours and bring it to his lips. 

Garcia is waiting for you both in Aaron’s office when you arrive at work.

“Is everything okay?” You ask her immediately, feeling Aaron shift his body towards yours.

“I finished digging up everything I could on Josh, if you want to see it.” She tells you both, and you look at Aaron. Truth be told, you don’t really want to know, but being disgusted and informed is probably better than being uninformed and caught off guard. 

“Come on, we’ll go review it in your office.” Aaron said, stepping aside to let Garcia lead the way. Once she is a few paces ahead, he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, and you just tell me if you need to take a break, okay?”

You nodded, and Aaron place a comforting hand on your back as the two of you made your way down to the batcave. 

“Okay, so, just going through the highlights,” Garcia starts, clicking at tabs and pulling them up on her assortment of monitors throughout the room.  “Starting a few weeks before you left, I noticed that Josh was calling and texting the same number a lot-- but only when you all were off fighting crime. Of course, I assumed that this absolute peach of a man had somehow conned not one but two women who had to be decidedly out of his league, but it turns out that wasn’t the case. He’s been doing coke, and the number leads to his dealer.” 

“Fuck, again?” You interrupted her.

“He was doing coke when the two of you were together?” Aaron asked, surprised. 

“Not for a while, or so I thought. The coke was what made him violent-- I told him it was the drugs or me, and when he told me that he’d picked me, I believed him.” You explained. “He must have been high when he showed up that night-- he was always an asshole but showing up like that was out of character.” 

“So, with you out of the picture, it seems like the coke usage has increased a lot. Like, from a weekly to a daily thing, a lot. He’s going out at night, racking massive credit card debt. He hasn’t purchased a firearm or anything that indicates that he might be planning something violent, but he’s definitely acting impulsive.” 

“Was he sober or high when he sent the flowers?” Aaron asks. 

“Sir, I don’t think he’s been sober since you took all of her stuff out of the apartment,” Garcia responds. 

“He’s only going to get more aggressive and out-of-touch with reality the longer this bender lasts,” you note, clinically, as if you were talking about a case halfway across the country and as if your future wasn’t hanging in the balance. 

“We’ll keep an eye on it, and we’ll be ready. Garcia, can you print out a full copy of this and get it on my desk?” 

“Are you sure? The full copy is really long, it’s got to be--” 

“I’m sure, Garcia. Thank you.”  

tagging:  @hotforhotchner11      @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @msmarvelsmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie

[ginnympotter]

if you are still doing prompts can you do #50 with hinny pls! And if at all possible can u please do it with jily alive, imma sucker for those!:)

“Shh, stop fussing,” Harry said, trying to soothe her. “I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Don’t shush me,” she muttered, hugging the toilet. “When did you learn how to braid hair, anyway?”

“Mum taught me,” he told her, as he carefully wove her ginger locks together into a tight plait. “On Sirius.”

Despite her current disposition, Ginny let out a short chuckle. “What?”

“When I was seven, Sirius went through a long hair phase. He was trying to grow it longer than my mum’s,” he explained. “They can tell you about it at the table. You have a hair tie?”

Ginny stuck out a hand, and Harry gently pulled off the black tie from her wrist. He tied up the end of her plait and put his hands on her shoulders. “There. Now your hair won’t be in the way.”

She looked back at him, her face soft and pale. “Thank you.”

“You think you’ve finished?”

She nodded. “For now.”

Harry stood up, flushed the toilet one more time for good measure, and then offered his hand to Ginny and helped her up. “You think you’ll be able to get through the rest of lunch?”

“I’m hoping,” she said, attempting a smile. “You go back out there, I’m just gonna brush my teeth...again.”

He kissed her cheek and left the bathroom. When he returned to the dining room, James and Sirius were caught up in a heated debate about whether flying the motorbike or a broom was a more efficient way of travelling. Lily had a knowing look on her face as Harry sat back down, which made Harry want to avoid her eyes, afraid his own would confirm it.

She played along, anyway. “Is Ginny alright, love?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’ll be out in a moment,” he assured her, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Sirius halted his argument with James to add, “I did think she seemed a bit off-color when we got here.”

Of course Sirius decided to become observant when they were trying to keep something private. He was glad to have an excuse to change the subject. “I was just telling her about your long hair phase when I was a kid, remember that?”

“My glory days, you mean?” Sirius reminisced wistfully. He looked at James and Lily. “You think I should grow it out again?”

“No,” said James at the same time as Lily said “yes.”

“What Evans says goes,” Sirius smiled.

Just then, Ginny emerged from the bathroom and joined them at the table. She sat down and muttered, “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” James waved off, pouring her a glass of water. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She squeezed Harry’s thigh with one hand and took the water in the other. Harry took that as his cue to take lead of the conversation.

“Ginny wanted to hear about how I learned to braid hair,” Harry told them.

Sirius and Lily laughed as James dug into more food. “I had just cut my hair,” started Lily. “Shoulder-length. And Sirius’s hair was getting pretty long, he was about to cut it himself when we realized it was about the same length.”

“So we had a contest,” Sirius said. “Who could grow out their hair longer, faster.”

“It was a pretty close call,” James joined in.

“But eventually I got tired of only donning a man-bun. It was time to change up my style. So I asked my dear sister here to teach me how to braid my hair. Even though I could’ve just used my wand, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“So Sirius practiced on me,” Lily recalled. “And Harry watched, and then we got him to braid Sirius’s hair for him. I said, ‘my love, one day this is going to be a skill that will come in handy in one way or another,’ and any time spent with Sirius was time well spent for Harry.”

“Still feel that way, kid?” Sirius asked Harry, grinning.

Harry shrugged playfully and Ginny laughed, bringing some color back into her face. “Depends on the day.”

“I get it, you’re married now,” Sirius lamented as he ruffled his own hair, much shorter than it was back then. “But I guess Ginny has me to thank for that lovely plait, given all the hair you ripped out of my head practicing.”

“No hairs were ripped out in the making of this plait,” Ginny assured them, smiling. She reached for a roll and took a small bite. Harry could tell she was hungry but scared to eat anything more. She swallowed. “Thank you for teaching him, most helpful.”

“Remember how we used to have braid-offs?” said James, his arm around Lily. “To see if Harry or I could braid faster?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry laughed, recollecting it. “Whoever was braiding Mum’s hair always won,” he told Ginny, holding her hand on his thigh. “Because hers was much easier to work with than Sirius’s.”

As Sirius took great offense to this and started going on about how female conditioner is better than male conditioner and it took him a year to figure that out and make the switch, Harry looked over at his wife and saw her scrunching up her features. “You ok?” he asked, quiet but concerned.

“I thought I was done, but…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth. “I don’t think that’s the case.”

And then she stood up abruptly, mumbled, “excuse me,” and ran down the hall, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

They all went quiet, staring at the closed door.

James spoke first. “Is she alright? If Ginny’s sick we can get going, you can take care of her.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s-” he stammered, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Harry,” said Lily, compassion in her voice. She knew. Harry knew she knew. She smiled at him. “Go check up on her, let her decide.”

He could tell she meant let her decide if she wants to tell them the news more than decide if they should leave. Harry nodded, getting up from his seat and apologizing. “Sorry, be right back.”

He walked quickly down the hall and knocked on the door. “It’s me,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Harry heard her clear her voice before responding, “Yes.”

There she was on the floor again, head hanging in defeat over the toilet, a sight that Harry has been saddened to become so familiar with over the past couple of weeks, despite the otherwise wonderful cause of it.

He shut the door behind him, and squatted down on the floor, gently placing a hand on her back.

“Your mum so knows,” she grumbled. “Doesn’t she?”

“I suspect so, yeah,” he replied as she flushed the toilet. “Gin, if you don’t want to tell them yet we don’t have to, we can tell them you’re sick and they can go home.”

She shook her head slowly and turned her gaze to her husband. “No, let’s tell them. I want them to know. It’s just...we haven’t told anyone, you know? Saying it out loud makes it feel more real.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course not,” she clarified. “I’m so happy, you know that. But it’s still scary.”

He smiled, moving closer to her as he continued to rub her back. “They’ll help us.”

“I know they will,” she smiled back.

Harry helped her up again, and she moved to wash her hands and face. As she was finishing up he asked, “Are you sure you’re done?”

“Yeah, that was the last of it,” Ginny stated in reassurance. She rinsed with mouthwash and spit it out. “This baby better be worth all the vomit.”

Harry laughed, pulling her in, enveloping her in a hug with gentle arms. “It will be.”

She sighed against him, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, which then prompted him to lean down and kiss her on the mouth. She pulled away laughing. “You do not want to kiss me after that.”

“I always want to kiss you,” he told her in earnest. “You used mouthwash, it’s fine.”

“Harry-”

He caught her lips with his own, kissing her passionately. And how could he not? She was going to be the mother of their child. He felt so grateful to her, so guilty that she had to be the one to bear the bodily burden of it all. He hoped he could translate it all into his kiss.

Ginny must’ve understood- she always did - as she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm for a minute before pulling away again. “Harry,” she repeated, this time with tenderness in her voice.

“Sorry,” he said. He moved a stray hair from her braid and tucked it behind her ear. His heart was swelling. He could hold her all day. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she told him as her eyes softened. “Alright, let’s do this.”

They exited the bathroom together and approached the dining room table. Before they could even sit back down Sirius said, “Are you pregnant or something?”

James groaned and Lily smacked Sirius’s arm hard.

Sirius swore loudly, glaring at Lily. “What the hell, Evans?”

“That’s a rude question to ask, Pads,” James muttered.

“No tact,” Lily sighed in disappointment. “None, whatsoever!”

“I was just asking an innocent question! Her sprinting from the table just reminded me of you when you were pregnant with this one,” Sirius said, nudging his head towards his godson. Then he looked at them. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”

Before Harry could interject, Ginny said, “No, it’s ok. You’re right.”

The room fell quiet. James’s eyes widened. “Come again?”

“He’s right,” she repeated. “I am pregnant.”

“Surprise?” Harry offered.

There was a beat, and then Lily, James, and Sirius all started speaking at once, sharing their congratulations, shooting up out of their seats and moving to hug them. When Lily reached her son, she put both her hands on his face, and she had tears in her eyes.

Harry smiled. “You knew, right?”

“A mother always does,” she confirmed, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “You’ll learn that soon enough when Ginny suddenly becomes all-knowing.”

“She already is.”

[ivyaugustetc]

the dead poets at hogwarts: a headcanon from hell

@aedan-mills @charlie-dalton-simp @pretentious-strikes YOU ENCOURAGED THIS BEHAVIOR SO YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES. also i love you a lot but THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.

also @aedan-mills i found out that some of the wand stuff is related to their birthdays and i am much too lazy to look all that up and figure it all out, but anyone else is welcome to lmao. sorry to disappoint but alas it's summer and i don't want to research that much. but other than that, please listen to me flex my extensive knowledge on harry potter :)

neil (half blood): i'm sorry,,,, can you say gryffindor? this boy would get up there and in a second the sorting hat would have him all figured out: big dreams with the will to pursue them, but not ambitious enough to step over others to achieve said dreams? sounds like a gryffindor to me. i just know he'd thrive at hogwarts, probably going on to play quidditch (def a chaser) and would excel in charms class. as far as pets go, i feel like he'd stay simple and classy with a chill barn owl he'd name after a famous broadway actor. he would kind of be a mix of james and remus, in which he's wild and crazy but still manages to get good grades. the teachers love him simply because they don't know much about him outside of class. he would absolutely LOVE going to hogsmeade and going batshit crazy at zonko's and honeydukes. he'd have a whole phase where he gets addicted to licorice wands and everyone else thinks they're disgusting but he simply cannot buy enough of them. he'd play a bunch of zonko tricks on the rest of the poets, saving the most harsh for charlie and the most wholesome for todd <3

todd (muggle born): ugh see i can see him being both a hufflepuff and a ravenclaw, but my heart says hufflepuff so i'm gonna go with that. he would absolutely HATE the sorting ceremony with a burning passion. getting up in front of everybody only to have a hat judge u??? no thanks. HAHAHA CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM ON A BROOM. i can't either because he would simply never get on one, probably referring to them as "flying death traps" more often than not. "hey todd, you think about joining quidditch?" "no thanks, i'd rather keep my limbs intact ;)". but he would love muggle studies a lot, even if the teacher was boring as hell. snape would scare the hell out of him for sure, resulting in his lowest class being potions. he would excel in classes that are more learning out of the book rather than in practice. for a pet, he'd want something that could not possibly turn on him and would just be sweet and loving, so ima give him a toad :) he'd name it something fancy and british, like nigel or sumn. and because of nigel, he'd love chocolate frogs because hey they're twins!!

fanon knox (pure blood): hogwarts fuck boy. okay well maybe not f boy but like...his favorite part is the fact that this is a co-ed school rather than an all-boys school so he can spy on both genders equally yknow. hmm i get hufflepuff vibes from him because he's a big romantic, sucker for cute relationships, etc. he would enjoy whichever class his current crush is in, although I feel like he'd do well with classes that involved spells and wand work mostly lmao. he'd want a really fucking cute pet, so i'd give him a kneazle (it's like a cat but a bit more lion like). he'd give it a strong sounding name, something german idk. but he'd love the shit out of that kneazle, i can tell you that much. i feel like he'd try out for quidditch his first few years, not make it on, and then make it on to the team around fourth year and somehow end up team captain in seventh (and that proves kids, that you too can have a redemption arc in sports). as far as candy goes, ima say he likes the super sour candy like acid pops n shit. like i feel like the others would dare him to each as much sour candy as he can and then he wouldn't be able to taste for a week. but he'd think it was worth it :)

cameron (muggle born): good god this boy just wants to learn. magic just fascinates him, what with growing up in a big muggle family (bestie he is the weasleys if they were all type a). he's a ravenclaw, no questions asked. he would love classes involving preciseness and attention, things like potions and transfiguration. i feel like he'd have a cute, stable relationship along the way ofc because he deserves so much love and happiness and UGH he's a baby. he'd stick with a lil ginger cat, naming it after one of the famous wizards he's read about. he would love spending christmas at the school and going places when the ground are nearly empty, enjoying the scenery. for candy, he'd go plain and simple with chocolate frogs. can't go wrong with those. he'd still have fun with his friends, but he'd skip a lot of parties for some studying (don't judge, i do it too lmao). would not play quidditch but would enjoy it, end of story.

charlie (pure blood): slytherin. don't dispute it. think the weasley twins but even more flirtatious. he would be a regular at every single party that happened, flirting with the guys and gals shamelessly and drinking butterbeer like it was water. look me in the eye and tell me he would not absolutely fucking HATE GILDEROY LOCKHART WITH EVER FIBER OF HIS BEING. he'd do spot-on impersonations of him though. teacher's worst enemy. like when he walks into class on the first day, every teacher collectively mutters "bloody hell not this kid again". asks the most incredibly stupid questions ("okay but is there a spell to turn my eyebrows green? just the eyebrows though, not my hair"). he would be the most aggressive beater on the slytherin team, though he would never deliberately try to hit someone, just distract the shit out of them ("put the fear of god in them and fate will do the rest"). he'd want a loud, aggressive pet but he'd probably end up with a mean cat that hisses at everyone. he'd give it the most adorable name that just. does not fit the personality. something like priscilla. for candy, he'd take his chance with bertie botts' every flavour beans and just roll with the punches. he's chaotic like that.

pitts (half blood): ASTRONOMY IS HIS JAM. he fucking loves that class. he tutors the entire ravenclaw house in that class. he's the guy that little first years who are terrified of the class go to when they're completely lost and don't understand what's going on. besides that, i feel like he'd just be everyone's cool older brother yknow? like he'd be in charge of helping all the first years figure out where stuff is and giving them advice to help them and stuff. he would be a die-hard quidditch fan although he would not play the sport (maybe recreationally on the weekends and holidays and stuff, but the fact that it's so fucking dangerous just does not appeal to him). he'd like the candy that does tricks and stuff, like fizzing whizbees and stuff. he gives me charlie weasley vibes, where he's hardcore in certain areas (in his case, astronomy) and just flipping chill in anything else. cool older brother vibes, man. it fits.

meeks (half blood): i've said it once and i'll say it again: nonproblematic ginger dumbledore. also a hufflepuff <3 this dude just wants to fucking coast along, getting good grades and not participating in the dumb shit that could probably get him killed (even though he would in a heartbeat if his friends were in danger. duh). he'd be a teacher's favorite, probably having conversations with his favorite teachers during free time. okay ik this isn't technically at school, but i swear to god he would be dumbledore one day. like he would be the chill ass headmaster who gets shit done while also being very la di da life is nice flowers are pretty type of person. that being said, his favorite candy is and has been lemon drops ever since dumbledore got him addicted to them. his favorite classes would be potions (he'd surprisingly get along well with snape) and he'd just be great and mixing shit right and just knowing how much of stuff to add in ("how much powdered root do i add?" "about three and a half shakes." "that's not a measurement, meeks." "*shrug* it works"). he'd stick with his small friend group and love them to death, but he'd be a friend to all really. he'll help anyone that comes to him asking for help with homework (and though he won't admit it, he gets super prideful when it's someone a few years ahead of him).

stick (muggle born): harry potter if harry potter could've been more harry potter. like he would just be a part of everything and end up being part of some prophecy that demands he'd save the world and at first he'd be like HEY i'm just a small boy but then he'd grit his teeth and finesse the shit out of this preventing the end of days stuff. he'd definitely be a gryffindor, and fucking proud of it. he'd be the seeker on the quidditch team because he is so short and small and yeah he'd fucking kill it there. he'd kind of be the shy one no one expected much from, but once he starts absolutely wrecking the shit out of the other houses' quidditch teams, he'd become sorta popular? like people would invite him to parties and stuff and he's too nice to say no, but he'd mostly just hang around the outskirts, saying hi to the other poets if he saw them and mostly talking to chris and ginny (danburry, not weasley). he'd like defense against the dark arts and minerva mcgongiall would become his literal mother i can't explain it. he'd have an owl as a pet and treat it like it was his own child, telling it thank you every time it brought his mail or took his mail. as for candy, he'd like drooble's bubble gum because the bubbles are all magic and shit and i just feel like that would make him so happy <3

chris (pure blood): the older sister lesbian <3 she'd be a sweet hufflepuff who would be friends with everyone while also being the greatest socialite the school has ever seen. you know that party that practically the entire school attended and talked about for months on end? she planned that shit. she'd be like pitts in the respect that she'd help all the first years find their way in the school and in life in general. she's just such a warm and kind person that everyone would love her. she's have a little pink pygmy puff to match ginny's purple one, and she'd give it such a perfect, human name like lila or something. she'd be great at muggle studies and all the teachers would love her. also every one is so invested in her relationship with ginny it's adorable. he favorite candy is acid pops even though they make her eyes water like crazy. she'd make pretty good grades, every once in a while getting one slightly lower than she'd expected, but she always manages to bring them up to her satisfactory level :) she would not play quidditch, but she would go all out to support ginny, even though they're in different houses. that's what i call love, baby.

ginny (half blood): the mom lesbian <3 she's a ravenclaw and also one of the sweetest people in the whole school. while chris helps other with the social aspect, ginny will help anyone in any subject they need help with (she and meeks are a help duo on this). she's quieter and less social than chris, but she's one of the best chasers the ravenclaw quidditch team has ever seen. she'd end up team captain by fifth of sixth year. she'd be like oliver wood in that she is sO invested in the team's success that at sometimes she'll go a bit crazy, but chris is always there to help her put things back into perspective <3. she'd make stellar grades of course, being good friends with all of her teachers. her favorite candy would be the sweetest things like fairy floss. as previously stated, she'd have a purple pygmy puff to match chris's pink one, and she'd also give it an adorable human name like lisa or something. ginny's just sweet to everyone, especially neil and his friends.

I DID IT. IT TOOK FOREVER AND A FEW HAIL MARYS BUT I DID IT. enjoy besties <3 love u all

[peralta-guaranteed]

Jake and Amy single parents AU.

Pretty please! :))

oh! Oh, I strangely love this one!

- Amy is a police-widow with little Mac (no, Teddy was not the father, it was a non-canon detective), while Jake is at the better end of a really messy divorce from Sofia, who very quickly handed over all alimony of Maya to him to focus on her career.

-Amy tries her best to juggle the newly single parent life with her full-time position running a bookshop, while Jake is not too happy about having to bring Maya in to the precinct all the time, but it can’t be helped (and Scully makes a surprisingly good babysitter). The squad’s had his back through the entire break-up, and they all love his little girl to bits, so at least she won’t be missing the family aspect in her life - and will always have an amazing female role model in her Auntie Rosa, who’s already planning to teach her Spanish just so she can trashtalk her dad with her without Jake knowing

- Mac + Maya meet at daycare and absolutely hit it off, despite the age difference of two years. Mac has apparently seen another curly headed toddler and immediately decided to brother the sh*t out of her. He takes her along to all his games and helps her pick colours for her pictures and shares his apple slices with her in exchange for a bit of sandwich (which is much nicer anyway).

- the daycare workers absolutely adore the little duo, and can’t help remarking how much they look like siblings anyway. So of course Jake has to meet the mom of the adorable little boy who always bring his daughter over to him for pickup by holding her hand.

- he’s a bit afraid of having to deal with the usual “Aw they’re little boyfriend and girlfriend” comments he’s expecting, but obviously Amy is having none of that. Instead, she tells him how glad she is that Mac has found a little friend to protect. “He’s always trying to protect everyone so much, ever since his dad... well...”

- (Jake knew, distantly, that she was the widow of one of his colleagues from another precinct, but apart from the usual condolences they’d all sent it had never really registered in his mind that there was a wife and a child left behind.)

- “Oh well Maya is so happy too. She’s a bit shy and scared at the moment, so having a big friend help her get out of her shell is great. Your little boy is a sweetheart, too.”

- Amy smiles at him, and he’s pretty sure his heart should not be doing what it’s doing, so he beats it down and tries his best to ignore it. Which is hard, because she smiles at him a lot in the coming months when they meet up for playdates, Mac over excited to show Maya all his favourite spots at the park or the coolest fish at the aquarium.

- Jake moans during one of their meet-ups about a case that has been dragging on forever and is going to need an allnighter to finally be solved, and his partner Boyle is really trying his best alone, but he’s the primary on it and- it feels great to talk about it with someone who understands, outside of his squad, even if Amy sometimes nods with the saddest look on her face when he mentions parts of his job. But she offers him last minute babysitting if he ever needs it, considering her job finishes promptly at 5pm each day, and he can’t help but take her offer when another case hits that needs him on a stake out at 10pm.

- so Maya gets a lovely sleepover with Mac, and Amy gets the biggest box of her favourite pralines as a thank you, because Jake has never, not once, given Maya to a babysitter to go to his job without feeling remorse and guilt, not even his own mom, but he had to deal with none of that when Maya gladly ran up the stairs to Amy’s place where Mac was already shouting her name.

- needless to say that Amy and Jake become the great friends they always are over time. He brings coffee and muffins to their park playdates, and she brings over frozen meals from Mac’s abuela for kid movie marathons at Jake’s place. They know each other’s schedules to help out with the kids, Jake has convinced everyone in his friend group and workplace to only buy books at her store from now on, and Amy is already planning the christmas gift she needs to pack for Maya and her daddy.

- it would be a nice, supportive friendship of equals, and a good help in their single parent life, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jake realised about three playdates in that he was falling for Amy faster than a shooting star. It took her a little longer, but realisation hit when she was packing Mac’s lunchbox, her own lunchbox, and Maya’s lunchbox too after a sleepover, and subconsciously already wanted to bag up a fourth set of sandwiches with some gummy bears and a soda thrown in for good measure.

- Rosa tells him to ‘grow a pair and ask her out, she sounds perfect for both you and Maya’ when Jake confides in her. And that is rare praise coming from Diaz, because no one is good enough for Maya in her eyes, sometimes not even Jake himself. But he can’t take advantage of Amy’s friendship like that, not when it risks losing both her and Mac for Maya... and there is always the underlying fear that Maya will bond with a new woman in her life and be left behind yet again if they don’t work out, just like with her mom, whose biggest contribution to her life since the divorce has been the alimony payments each month.

- Kylie, meanwhile, warns Amy not to risk too much when she confides in her. She sadly remembers the many days she had to spend at her friend-coworker’s side after the funeral, cleaning out half of a closet and half of a shared home, basically. She’d been hoping that Amy would find love again, maybe in a few years time, but when she heard the news about her ‘great new friend’ being a detective himself, her heart dropped because she knew what that might be heading towards, and Amy very much shares her fears. She’d vowed to an absolute ‘no cops’ rule for her planned restart of dating in two years, perfectly scheduled with Mac’s start of school.

- as it is, both of them dance around their emotions in a perfectly synchronised waltz while still getting closer and closer as friends and parents, to the point that the daycare workers don’t even bat an eye anymore when Amy brings both Mac and Maya in, or when Jake picks both of them up into his arms with an excited ‘ready for ice cream and games?!’ before they meet up with Amy for a Coney Island afternoon.

- until one day, when the daycare offers a ‘star gazing sleep over’ event after the story of the stars and night sky was the theme of the week, and it falls right on the day Amy and Jake were planning to take the kids to a movie. “We could still go.” Jake mumbles while Maya runs into the daycare center, not shy at all anymore, and Mac follows her. “You want to go see Paddington’s Big Adventure... without the kids?” Amy jokes, but he looks so serious. “No, of course not, but I mean - we - uh - we both got the evening off now, don’t we? I told my captain I won’t be in no matter what. Seems like a waste of time just going home. We could see that period drama you talked about, that will definitely get an Oscar?”

- Amy hesitates only for a second, but they do go. They watch the drama that Jake has to admit is pretty damn good for a movie where nothing explodes or is set on fire, and that praise does not only come from the fact that Amy grabbed his hand with a gasp during a particularly emotional scene, and then kind of forgot to let go afterwards.

- but then the movie ends and Jake still doesn’t want to go home. Neither does Amy, apparently, because she offers up an ‘amazing 24h diner’ around the corner for some late night snacks, during which they laugh and flick chocolate chips at each other and end up blushing like mad when the waitress comments on what a ‘cute couple’ they are.

- he walks her to her front door, and they both kinda don’t know what to do as they say goodbye, because this kind of date night should usually end on a kiss, but it wasn’t really a date, was it, they would’ve taken the kids along if it hadn’t been for the day care event, and-

- “Ames, I’m - this is terrifying, but I think I’ll hate myself even more for not ever saying anything - and, and, I kind of, maybe, I think you might also-” She takes his hand again, a lot softer than she did in the cinema. “I think this is the kind of talk that needs a coffee and a good couch.”

- That’s how they end up at her place that Jake already knows so well from bringing Maya over, from the perfectly styled bookcases down to the absolute mess of a playroom that is Mac’s kingdom. They both grip their coffee cups tightly as they talk it all out, about what they’re afraid of, what they would risk if they gave ‘them’ a try.

- “I wouldn’t ever want to put Mac through losing another cop-dad even if it wasn’t from work, and I won’t let Maya lose another mom.” “Me neither. And I promised Mac I’d never forget his papa, but... I can clearly see him love his new daddy, too. He already looks up to you so much. He wants a flannel shirt for christmas.” “Maya introduced you as Mama Amy to one of my aunties. Which was quite a thing to explain.” Amy laughs, and then smiles at him, and his heart does that thing again, like it has been doing for months now, but this time he doesn’t beat it down. This time he lets it lead him to lean in for the most careful kiss, a kiss that Amy gladly returns, just as carefully.

- they agree to take things slow, be mindful, not drop it on the kids immediately or rush into things from the pressure of friends or family.

- and then three months later Amy finds the perfect apartment for the four of them, and Jake aks Gina and Rosa for ring preferences and proposal tips, and ‘slow and mindful’ has flown out the window the second Maya brought home a picture she did with Mac at daycare showing their little ‘family’ before Amy or Jake had even talked to them about their possible dating.

- Maya grows up with her Mama teaching her Spanish along with Auntie Rosa, and an abuela and abuelo who love to spoil her with Cuban sweets just as much as her big brother. Mac gets to ride along in his Daddy’s police car sometimes, and hears stories about his brave Papa from his colleagues. His auntie Gina is so proud of him for taking care of his little sister the way she took care of her little brother too. And Jake gets to see Amy smile all the time now, and knows it’s him and their kids that is making her smile so much.

[crow-summoner]

Darklina Week Day 2: Role Reversal

Sun Summoner!Darkling and Shadow Summoner!Alina

Alina, a cartographer for the Ravken Army, undertakes a dangerous mission to stay by her only friend’s side. They must cross the Forge, a hellscape of intense heat and unrelenting light that has torn their country in two. Nothing can survive the Forge for long. Nothing but the monsters that call it home. Alina thinks she and Mal will make it as long as they’re together, but when their mission falls to pieces, Alina discovers something shocking about herself. She can banish light. Her powers draw the attention of the Golden General, a military leader who scares and intrigues Alina in equal measure. One thing’s for sure. Alina can’t go back to life of a mouse, and the General’s her best option to fight for something more. Can Alina save her world, or will she die trying?

Or, an AU where light powers aren’t necessarily good, and shadow powers get to be heroic. Content warning for some volcra expy related gore and some canon-consistent sprinkles of Malina at the beginning. There’s plenty of Darkles after that, now with extra sparkles.

Story under the jump

The Forge

Alina sits at the inn window, adding the last buttery yellow lines to her painting. For being such a blight against their nation, the Forge made a lovely landscape. She dons her fabrikator sunglasses, and turning her back to the unrelenting sunlight, she lifts her tented mirror up to compare her painting to the real thing. Her superior officers would kill her if they knew what she was using their equipment for, but the Forge is too bright to look at directly. Her superiors may not appreciate art, but if she’s going to risk her life for more supplies, she wants to leave a memorial for herself.

“It looks too much like a vacation spot,” Mal says, dragging up a chair so he can sit next to her. He’s already wearing his glasses and darkened veil, which will supposedly keep the Forge from boiling their eyes out and trap moisture near their faces. Alina would be happier if more than army issued fashion stood between her and certain death.

“You make a pretty bride, you know that?” Alina says instead of responding to the criticism. There were enough horrors in the Forge. She wanted make something pleasant. She places her canvas between the shelf and the wall, hoping that someone working at the inn will find it.

Mal huffs. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw the bags under my eyes. Don’t know how people sleep around here.”

Alina supposes people can get used to anything, even perpetual daylight. She secures her mirror and knives to her belt and dons her veil and gloves. She shimmies down the narrow walkway as if showing off the latest fashion. “What do you think?”

Mal makes a show of considering it, rubbing his chin under the veil. “I think the sveta will be too smitten to eat you.”

Alina tilts her head in mock coyness. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.” She leaves it unspoken that she wishes someone else was smitten with her.

“Come on,” Mal says, taking her by the arm. “I want to be on time for once.”

By the time they reach the skiff, Alina and Mal are five minutes late. Thankfully, Alexei, her fellow cartographer, covered for her.

“You owe me,” he says, shoving her maps into her hands.

“I’ll bake you a cake,” Alina promises.

“You already owe me twelve cakes!”

“Then I’ll name my first born after you.”

Alexei snorts. “Like any of us are going to live long enough to have kids. We’re all going to be beef jerky in a few hours.”

“Squeak. Squeak, Alexei.” It’s the code their cartographers have for when Alexei’s boundless optimism is bringing them down.

Normally, Alexei would grumble but acquiesce. Today, he just stares at the skiff. “Do you really think the sveta are real?”

Alina shrugs. “What else could eat our men out there?” Admittedly, invisible creatures made of light sounded farfetched, but she’s seen the battle scars. Other soldiers had claw mark scars across their chest and spots where something inhuman had taken a bite out of them. The light could blister, burn and tan flesh, but it couldn’t do that.

“I dunno. Maybe him,” Alexei said, eyeing the golden carriage in the distance. “The Geldling.”

Alina quickly hushes him. General Kirigan tolerates others calling him the Golden General, but he does not take kindly to the Geldling. Sure, the epitaph was based on an old Kerch word for gold, but gelding is also what one did to a prized horse to keep it docile. It was as good as saying their leader is a ballless pet, and everyone knows it.  

Sure enough, one of the heartrenders lifts his veil and glares at them. He might have been handsome once, but his sour expression makes the lines on his face hard.

“Captain Herring may be rough, but he’s not a cannibal.” Alina hopes this is enough to cover over their mistake. The heartrender doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t fight them either. That suited Alina well enough.

“Watch what you say,” she whispers to Alexei. “We have to depend on these people to survive. Don’t make them mad.”

Alexei nods. “Sorry.”

Thankfully, the rest of their time at the dock goes smoothly. Soon, all the soldiers and Girsha gather inside the metal skiff, ready to take off. A tidemaker hoses them all down, making Alina feel like a drenched rat, but the water is important in such a hot place.

Alina makes sure to stand by Mal, gripping his arm for support as the skiff slides along the sand. There’s enough space to move around, but something about the lack of windows makes the room feel unbearably tight. It’s like one big coffin.

Squeak, squeak, Alina tells herself. No one’s going to die today.

The skiff rattles as they pass over marker zero. They’re officially in the Forge. The panels in the side of the skiff slide up. Rows of dark nets allow squallers to force air out without letting the light in. They’ll have to use the tinted mirrors along the sides of the skiff to direct it.

Alina fans herself, wishing the nets could ease the heat. She was drenched just minutes ago, but her uniform’s now bone dry. Sure, the tidemakers periodically release a mist from their fancy containers and push it around the cabin, but that’s like giving a starving man a single bite.

“I bet I can sweat more than you,” Mal jokes, and she’s sure it’s to help distract her. Even the dumbest man in their unit wouldn’t brag about that.

“No way. Sweat more than that heartrender over there, and you have a deal,” she whispers back. It was a hard challenge. The heartrender already smelled like he’d bathed in nothing but used socks for years.

Mal leans back in shock. “Yikes. Are you trying to kill me? I can’t beat that.”

Alexei sniffs beside them, rubbing under his veil. “My lids are scraping my eyeballs.”

Alina reaches over and slaps his hand the way she used to do with the younger kids at the orphanage. “Then stop picking at them.”

Alexei mumbles. He’s a good cartographer, but he also comes from money, and that didn’t always make for a good soldier. Alina wonders if she should have erased his name instead of Ruby’s. This mission called for two cartographers, and Ruby could withstand discomfort better than he could, but Alina wasn’t thinking rationally. Mal was going to go into the Forge by himself, and Alina needed to remove someone so she could forge her own name on the mission papers. Mal wouldn’t give Alexei a second glance, but Ruby had red hair and a slim figure. Alina couldn’t risk Mal having “glad we’re still alive” sex with her after the mission. It was petty, childish even, but Alina couldn’t help herself. If they all survive the skiff, she’ll woman up and tell Mal how she feels. Lord knows hanging in this middle ground wasn’t doing either of them any favors.  

The skiff shakes, and Alexei grabs the walls. “Saints! It’s the sveta.”

The squaller at the helm shushes him. “Just a bump. Don’t call attention to us.”

Alexei’s shoulders slump, but he retakes his position behind the squaller without another word.

Alina can’t help but lean around her squaller to peak in her mirror. She’d heard about calcified roots surviving the Forge long after the crops perished. The real thing must be prettier than the paintings. Instead of a root, Alina finds the fragments of a skull and the front of a skiff.

She steps back, her stomach sinking into her boots. It’s one thing to know the odds, but it’s another to stare the evidence in the face. Better men than them have failed to cross.

The crew stand in silence as the skiff passes the first marker. Alina gives her squaller the proper directions and distances, and soon they pass the second marker. The third. The fourth. Alina allows herself to hope. Just eleven more and they’re home free.

She scratches her arm, and flakes of dry skin come off. No wonder the skiff regulars look like leather. She’d rather go AWOL than do this again. Then again, she didn’t have be here this time either. She has no one to blame but herself.

The skiff rumbles and tilts. It’s just another bump, she assures herself, but something raps against the ceiling. The heartrenders tense up, and the squallers shift their positions.

Oh, no.

She checks on Mal just to be sure, but he’s clutching his gun tight, his head tilted up. It’s the same stance he took when he found that rabbit in a barren forest or when he was about to catch her during hide and seek. He’s sighted something, only this time, that something is stronger than them.

The squaller at the helm brings the skiff to a stop and signals for the shooters and heartrenders to take position. All the non-combat staff – cartographers included – must gather at the center. Alina takes out her knife and her tented mirror, praying she won’t have to use them.

“Protect yourselves if you must,” the squaller whispers, “but don’t get in anyone’s way.”

Alina’s never felt more useless in her life.

The skiff continues to shake, harder this time. Something whines above them. Something answers it’s call from somewhere in front of them. Another whine sounds from behind the skiff. From all sides. How many of them are out there? At least a dozen given the sheer number of cries. No one dares make a sound. The sveta are fierce, but they’re just as blind as a human in the Forge. Maybe if they don’t hear anything, they’ll get bored and hunt elsewhere.

The ceiling dents in with a clank, knocking the skiff to the right. One of the soldiers jumps at the sound, aiming where it came from. The squaller at the helm blows him away, but not in time. The shot blows a hole in the ceiling, letting the light in. The beam hits a tidemaker’s shoulders, carving a smoking black line through her kefta. She screams, tearing off the cloth to expose a blistering gash. A healer pulls her to the side as one her friends tries to stifle her screams with a damp cloth, but it’s too late. The sveta cries draw closer.

Something claws a large hole through the ceiling, the soldiers scrambling to avoid the new beams. Some squallers attempt to blow up a tarp to cover the open areas, but it stops in thin air. No. Not thin air. The tarp drapes over something Alina can’t see with her naked eye. Under the plastic, she can make out its large, pointed wings and snout.

“Blast it,” the squaller at the helm shouts, and the soldiers open fire on the creature. It whines, batting away the tarp, and then it’s gone.

For a moment, no one makes a move. The cabin is utterly silent. Then something flashes across Alina’s mirror, and the next thing she knows, the soldier beside her explodes in a splash of red. On the other side of the skiff, a healer’s hand disappears. He draws back, clutching his now bloody stump as one of the creatures screeches in triumph.

Alina backs up, though there’s nowhere left to go. Oh, saints. She should have never come here. She begs every saint she can think of to forgive whatever sin brought her to this horrible moment. Shooting her fellow man in combat. Wishing harm to the girls Mal so much as looked at. Disregarding Ana Kuya’s rules at every turn. Whatever it was, she repented. Just please don’t let her die at some monster’s hand.

The durasts burst dust in the air. It makes their own people cough, but it helps make the sveta more visible.

BAM!

Another chunk of ceiling caves in, forcing the crew to huddle along the perimeter to escape the light. Not all of them were quick enough. Several soldiers blister and peel, crying as the sveta tear off chunks of flesh from their bodies.

Alina can only stare. It’s too late for prayers. Too late to run. She should have talked Mal into fleeing while she had the chance, and now ... Alina holds out her mirror, a new hope setting in. They might not make it out, but she can at least die by Mal’s side. He has to know how she feels.

Alina slowly shifts through the chaos, dodging shots and beams of light. She finds him by the helm, taking deep breaths as he aims and shoots. Something heavy hits the floor, gurgling. Of course. Leave it to Mal to find the creatures without a mirror.

She shines her mirror in the direction the creature fell, hoping to avoid tripping its body, but to her surprise, she can just make out the sheen of its skin. The colors change as she tilts the mirror, first blue, then pink and maybe green. All the colors of the rainbow. It reminds her of looking through a prism. Not invisible then. The sveta are just reflective.

Alina giggles. Ana Kuya would be so proud of her, committing to her education even as she’s about to die. She keeps giggling over and over, knowing that if she stops, she’ll have to cry. There are just so many bodies around her. They used to be people, and now they’re meat.

Someone grabs her wrist, and a shot of energy courses through her, quieting the hysteria. Mal drags her beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, but he’s busy readying his next shot. “I lo – ” She doesn’t get any further. Another soldier’s bullet ricochets off the wall and hits Mal in the shoulder. He doubles over, his gun clattering to the floor.

Alina drops her mirror, pressing a palm against the wound. The blood seeps from between her fingers no matter how hard she tries to stop the flow.

Mal slides to the floor, Alina crouching beside him. The light streams against them, burning her chest and his back. The pain means nothing compared to the loss.

“No. Not like this,” she says, covering Mal’s body with her own.

The pain in her back only lasts a second. It occurs to her that this is not a good thing. It means her nerves have been eaten away, but she’s glad to do it if it means Mal can live.

Something rumbles in the pit of her stomach. She feels like she’s going to burst, and she doesn’t have the strength to fight it.

All around her, the creatures cry and flap their wings erratically. She doesn’t have time think about it as the world goes dark, sinking her into a deep oblivion.

 *****************************

 Alina wakes, draped over someone’s shoulder, face buried in the red cloth of his kefta. She only lifts her head for one moment, but the light’s unbearable.

The light?

“Mal,” Alina shouts. She wiggles to free herself from the Grisha’s grip. The sveta will come back at any moment. She has to find Mal. Protect him. Where is he?

But they’re not on the skiff anymore. They’re back at the dock, the skiff a shredded husk. People rush every which way, some tending to the wounded and some salvaging the cargo from the hold. Mal could be anywhere among them. Then Alina catches sight of the ground. Oh, saints! So many people lay unmoving on the dock, and Grisha and First Army soldiers keep dragging out more. All these people she trained with. Ate with. Sung bawdy songs with when they’d all had too much kvas. Dead. They can’t all be gone. Right? Right?

Alina kicks at the Grisha. She needs to see for herself who made it out. Mal better be among them. Of course, he would be. He was the best tracker Ravka’s ever seen. He’d always find his way back home. Home to her.

The Grisha swears at her, trying to stop her feet with one arm. “Be still.” She recognizes him. The heartrender that had sneered at Alexei’s comment earlier. Alina drives a fist in the heartrender’s back. If Grisha like him had done more they wouldn’t be in the situation. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? He let their soldiers die because someone spoke against his leader. His pride meant more than the supplies they’d get from West Ravka. More than human life.

“Fine.” With a huff, the Grisha drops her flat on her butt, sand puffing in her face. She’s coughing too much to fight him off when the heartrender takes her by her bicep and drags her towards the camp. Another heartrender takes her other arm, his grip gentler than his coworker’s.

“Was that necessary, Ivan?” The second heartrender asked.

Ivan only grunts “Fedyor” as a warning in response. Fedyor shakes his head with what Alina would call fondness if she thought anyone could be fond of something as sour as Ivan.

“Where’s Mal?” Alina asks Fedyor, but he only lifts a brow. Of course, he wouldn’t recognize the name of a common solider. There were so many of them, and Grisha only concerned themselves with their own. “The boy I was with on the skiff.”

“Ah. Him,” Fedyor says. “The First Army tends to their own wounded. He’s in their care.”

Alina knows what that means. He’s laying outside the infirmary tent, waiting for his turn to have an undertrained medic pour alcohol in his wounds then pack them with mustard plaster. If he’s lucky, they’ll still have enough bandages for him to get his own. Having to use the scraps from old uniforms inevitably led to infection, and without supplies from the west, the camp outpost could not provide the steady diet of alcohol needed to survive that misery. Mal is popular, though. She’s sure someone will be willing to sacrifice their stash for his comfort.

Then it occurs to her that she’s not doing the same thing. She’d been horribly burned by the light, and yet her back doesn’t ache. Someone must have removed her jacket while Alina was unconscious, but her undershirt is scorched where the light hit it. Her chest is unusually red, but it’s not blistering or charred. The worst she can say is that she feels like she’s been awake for days.

“Why would someone heal me?” She’s heard it a thousand times before. Healers were too rare to waste on common soldiers. They were for Grisha and those wealthy enough to be a priority. She is neither, and yet when she looks up at Fedyor, he’s gazing down at her with some feeling she dares not define. It was the same look the Grisha gave the golden carriage when it barreled into the encampment. The same look the peasants near Keramzin gave the bones of Saint Felix on his day of worship. If she didn’t know better, she’d call it reverence.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity when he finally says, “We survived.” Alina doesn’t know what she has to do with that. It was luck. Pure and simple. But then Fedyor closes his eyes and whispers, “Thank you.”

A chill runs through Alina despite the heat. She looks at the tents, the people running around them, anywhere and everywhere but at Fedyor and that look, full of expectations she can never fill. They’ve long since passed the First Army section, but they’re now leaving the main Grisha area, heading up the northmost path. There’s nothing there except for the single yellow tent towering over the rest of the encampment.

Alina pulls back, but it does nothing to stop the heartrenders. “What does the General want with me?”

“Just answer his questions, so we call all get on with our day,” Ivan says.

“I don’t know anything! Let go of me!” She turns to look back at the First Army camp, too far away for anyone to see her let alone help. Not that they could do anything if they wanted to. No one says no to the General.

Fedyor grips the back of her neck, and her whole body turns to puddy. The heartrenders lean into her, holding her upright because her knees can no longer bear her weight. She’s too relaxed to move at all.

Ivan sniffs. “You weren’t supposed to do that for anyone but me.”

Fedyor grins. “Sorry, luv. Desperate times and all that.”

They march her straight into the lion’s den.

She doesn’t know what she expected to see. A jeweled throne and a menagerie of exotic animals like the ones she’d seen in the illustrated book of fairy tales back at the orphanage? Enemy soldiers kept in cages and chained otkazat’sya serving the Grisha like the Fjerdan pamphlet a traveler tried to give them before Ana Kuya kicked them off the duke’s property? But this place resembled the main tent for the First Army. Soldiers clustered together around a round table. A large map hung from a board, thread and pegs marking paths, places and interesting parties. And yet the General’s tent was larger than theirs, made of bulletproof core cloth while they had to make do with spun cotten. They must not need to ration oil either given the number of lamps lit, and the gathered Grisha shone like banners in their blue, red and purple keftas. No olive drab for them.

Most of the room turned to face them when the heartrenders dragged Alina in. Some now look at her with open curiosity and others with incredulous expressions. Soft mummers pass through the crowd until someone raises their hand, and the whole lot fall silent. Saints, Alina never heard a tent so quiet before. Even during lights out, at least one person snored.

Without needing to be told, the Grisha step back, parting down the center to make a path. A lone man strides forward, his telltale yellow kefta billowing around him. Notes of silver, white and gold weave through it, enough thread to stitch three tents of this size together, but he’s not wearing the jewelry she’d expect from his high rank, and his clothes are core cloth like any other Grisha. She’s never seen a high officer without any silk on, no matter how impractical it might be. After all, most never saw battle. Not like this one had.

The Golden General is younger than she’d expected given what others said about him. She’d seen a shriveled man with boney hands covered in warts in her mind’s eye, but this man barely had a decade on her, and his warm blonde hair and fair, flawless complexion were pleasing on the eyes. Too pleasing. Even the most beautiful boy back home had some freckle or ruddiness to his skin, but the General’s looks almost painted on. It’s eerie, and yet she can’t look away. He’s like the very embodiment of the light, except there’s a coldness in his gaze and calm comportment.

He may be light, but he’s not warmth.

That right, she tells herself. Ana Kuya warned her about such things before. One of the orphans she’d grown up with saw a gold coin glittering in some bushes under a hill. He’d climbed down for it, only to be rolled by some travelers. They took the buttons from his coat and the boots from his feet. He came home with nothing but his pants and a gash on his forehead. Ana Kuya warned them all then: not all that’s gold glitters. Sometimes, it burns instead. Gold tempts the desperate, but Alina is not blind. The General only looked like a man. He can boil someone’s insides. Make their flesh rot from their bone as if they were already dead.  Burn them with a glance. And here he is, looking straight at her.

The General stops a few feet away and clasps his hands behind his back. He looks her over, and she doesn’t know whether to be scared or grateful that she can’t read what conclusions he’s drawn. He nods at the heartrenders, and Fedyor rubs the back of Alina’s neck. Her limbs come back to life, panic rising from her core. She wants to run, but there’s no point.

The General stares at her, impassive, and then finally: “Is it true?”

For a moment, Alina believes the absurd. He’s read her thoughts and knows what she said about him being a monster. Then it occurs to her that he’s talking about the skiff. She closes her eyes. What does he want her to say? She was unconscious for most of what went down, and she can barely remember what she was present for. Flashes of her coworker’s blood and blistering arms intrude behind her closed lids, forcing them open again. Maybe it’s best she can’t remember.

She must have taken too long to answer because the General speaks again. “Is it true that you can banish the light?”

All Alina can do is blink. This has to be a joke, but the General’s expression is serious, and everyone around them is leaning in with anticipation. She knows better than to laugh in their faces and question their intelligence, so she makes do by stuttering, “No one can do that.” It takes a moment, but she remembers to add a quick “sir.” She’s not used to being around anyone important.

She braces herself for him to yell at her the way the generals in their army do, but he merely nods. “Then what did happen?”

Alina struggles for an answer. She tries to tell him that she doesn’t know how the sveta got in, or how their ship made it, but no matter what she says, she keeps returning to those burning soldiers. The General frowns, and she knows she needs to come up with something – anything – to appease him.

The General raises a hand to silence her, and when he speaks, his tone is smooth and calm. “It must have been scary out there. It’s one thing to read about the attacks, but it’s another to live it.”

Alina hadn’t expecting any sympathy, so she just nods.

“You must be exhausted.” When Alina nods again, the General continues. “It’s hard to make sense of anything when you hurt so much. I could help with that if you’ll let me.” He gestures beside him, inviting her closer.

He may have asked for permission, but Alina isn’t sure she really has a choice. Still, he’s been nothing but polite so far. She has nothing to lose by playing along.

Alina slowly closes the gap between them, and the closer she gets, the closer she wants to get. It’s like he’s a magnet, and she’s loose filigree coming together for the first time. She feels the warmth now, not in his continence, but all around him. It doesn’t burn. It doesn’t tingle. It numbs the heaviness of her limbs and banishes the panic that’s haunted her since the skiff penetrated the Forge. Before she knows it, Alina’s pressed up against the General. She’s vaguely aware that it’s not appropriate to stand so close to a superior, and it’s definitely not safe to be within biting distance of a monster, but it feels right. She doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

The General doesn’t seem to mind either, staring deep into her eyes like he’s trapped, too. Her reflection stares back at her in his eyes. They’re just so bright and shiny. She has a hard time placing the color. It reminds her of one of the duke’s vases. The blown glass was iridescent and shimmered with every color around it. She and Mal had argued for years over what color it really was. He said purple. She said green. They finally settled things with a good arm wrestle. Green won, of course. Alina decides that the General’s eyes are green, too.

“May I?” He asks, and though she can’t see where he’s pointing, she answers his unspoken request, sliding her hand in his. His palms are rough from life on the road, but they’re warm, and his grip os gentler than Fedyor’s had been. She could hold his hand and stare into his eyes forever.

“What happened?” The General asks in a voice softer than silks.

The words spill out of Alina on their own. She tells him about forging her name on the staff list. The attack. Shielding Mal. The sveta descending on them, and then – “All I could look at was him, but I could feel the light getting sucked away. Everything went black, and then I woke up on the docks.”

The General says nothing, but his eyes briefly narrow. It’s not a threat as far as Alina can tell. Whatever she said seemed to confirm something for him. The General pushes up her sleeve with his free hand, never breaking her gaze. She doesn’t fight it. She’s curious, too. Something happened back on that skiff. It’s there lurking there in the back of her brain, begging to be revealed. She knows once it’s free, it can never be caged again. The thought simultaneously thrills her and makes her shiver.

The General trails one finger up her arm. Something inside her responds to act, rejoices in it. His finger stops and curls around her forearm. She notes that the nail on his thumb is longer than the others. Sharp. He drives that nail into her flesh, and it’s like a thousand arms stream out of her at once.

Darkness surrounds them, putting out the lights. No, the lamps are still on. She can feel their flames licking at the shadows just as easily as she can feel the General’s grip on her arm. All around them, the Grisha shout. She can’t see them so much as she feels where they are in the dark. It the strangest sensation, and yet it feels like home. Everything is darkness.

Everything but him.

The General glows, smiling down at her. A true lamp would illuminate the world around them, but there he stands, the sole bright spot in the blackness. Standing together, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Then the General lets go of her arm and the darkness withers, fading into the ground or retreating under Alina’s skin to fight another day.

Alina clutches her chest, suddenly empty inside. Her head swivels every which way, desperate to find that surety again, but it’s gone. The aches have returned, magnified tenfold. She can barely keep herself upright, and soon, she’s on her knees, her head swimming.

“A shadow summoner,” some squaller says, and it’s as if a dam broke in Alina’s mind. She stares at her rough, ruddy hands. They’re not the hands of a hero, and yet it’s true. It’s all true. She can banish the light. She saved the skiff from the Forge.

She’s … Grisha.

Alina frowns, remembering what Mal said when that Grisha girl made eyes at him from the General’s carriage. He doesn’t tumble witches. Alina was glad to hear it then. It meant less competition for her, and she and Mal had exchanged plenty of digs at the Grisha over the years. Surely, he wouldn’t think she’s like the rest of them just because she has powers. She didn’t grow up coddled and self-important like the rest of them. That had to count for something. He knew her. The real her. He wouldn’t be scared of her because of her shadows.

No matter how hard Alina tries, she can’t bring herself to believe it.

The General holds out his hand. Alina stares up at him, sure she should bat it away. She’s not one of his Grisha. She’s a mapmaker and an orphan and Mal’s best friend. But that may not be true anymore, and she’d be a fool to burn any bridges.

She takes his hand, letting the General lift her to her feet. He pulls her close again, so close she can feel his breath against her face. She should let go, but she clings to his hand like it’s the last safe ledge in a rockslide. He gives her a knowing smirk, and she wants to wipe it off his stupid face. She’s had a rough day. She would have clung to literally anybody, but then the General leans in, and she feels that warmth again. His lips brush her ear as he whispers, “You and I are going to change the world.”

Notes:

Whoo! This is my first Grishaverse fanfic. It may be a little late, but it’s here. One shot for now, but I might be interested in continuing this in the future. Hope you enjoyed!

[lostinwoods]

A different take on SessKag relationship or why it would be more realistic than InuKag.

Let me begin with

Sesshomaru's and Kagome's past and how they are similar.

Sesshomaru had always been a very sentimental and emotionally receptive being. He had loved and cherished his dad the most. Loving and competing with him, wanting to surpass him, desiring recognition and acceptance so much so that his entire world revolved around his father. He did not want the swords because they were powerful or the bs about supreme conquest. What is that shit? Sesshomaru never needed that. The swords, especially Tessaiga was the most important acceptance to Sess. I will get back to this later.

Now Kagome. This kid was born and then we never saw her dad even when she was a kid. Another classic case of growing without a dad? Perhaps. But I feel her grandpa filled her missing dad's place. That is why the kid grew up in a lovely household, filled with love and peace and made Kagome what she was later on, a selfless girl who wants to love and protect her friends. Because that is what she learnt. Her grandpa, mom, everyone and her own family dynamics taught her how important it was to cherish the ones she loved.

What they initially thought of Inuyasha in their life

Now back to Sess. When his dad died, he dies saving Izayoi. What is the thing he feels at the time I wondered. Surely devastated? Yes, but even worse. His most important person, his goal, the thing his life revolved around was gone. And for what? To protect a weak, useless bitch like Izayoi? Here is a thing, he never knew Izayoi but knew the hut had collapsed on his dad when Izayoi had escaped. What can a teen feel when they hear such a thing? 'That useless bitch, ran away when my dad was in danger and cost him his life. Fuck that bitch and that kid they made. Useless, all humans are useless and weak.' This was really where his hatred came from. Probably.

Kagome on the other hand from the beginning was shown as a selfless kid, who loved both humans and demons alike. Reason? She had never lived in the feudal era. She was a kid grown in a society where everyone is placed on a equal pedestal. How would she, a modern kid understand the bad blood between demons and humans? If she were ever born in Feudal Japan, would things have changed? Maybe. Then she falls into a world where nothing was similar to where she was from. She was frightened, unsure and confused. And then Inuyasha came into her life. Honestly their first meeting was not romantic and pretty terrific in a sense. That was a weird day for Kagome. She fell into an alien world only heard in fairy tales, got involved in a weird prophecy, learnt she was a mythical sort of being herself and then got attacked by a guy who had saved her only seconds before, all ready to rip her heart out. In such a case, the 'osuwari' was probably a safe word for her. Why she uses it later in the series? Probably because she never trusted Inuyasha and felt more comfortable using a word which gave her power over him. Honestly, what would you expect? Kisses and love showers?

Analysis: Kagome was still scared of Inuyasha for a long time and did not trust him completely.

Before Inu no Taisho's tomb battle

Kagome before this went home and then cane back because she felt that fixing the Shikon was her duty. More honestly, she just returned coz Yura attacked and she wanted her family to be safe. Here I want to take some time to gush over how cool Kagome is. Intelligent, smart and extremely powerful. How she understood that Yura's skull was her weakness and breaks the god forsaken thing with just an arrow. That is some level of OPness. Who says Kags is useless?

Anyways, after that when Inuyasha called her 'Kagome', a lot of the viewers thought that Kagome was ecstatic because it was romantic and she was in love. But that is bs. It is not possible to love someone a week later they tried to gut your heart out. It is masochistic and unreal. Kagome over here felt a sense of acceptance from a guy who she felt previously hated her enough to kill her. And that to Kagome was a sign of friendship and more like, 'don't worry, I am not at least gonna attempt to kill you anymore.'

Kagome, inheritently a person who gives a hand when given a finger. She accepts Inu as her friend and they were far from being lovers.

It is exactly this time that Sess attacks them. And quite cruely might I say. Bringing Inu's dead mom like that was not funny and Sess was an outright jerk for doing that no matter how much he hated Inu and Izayoi. He is all weird and sarcatic at high levels. And Kags hated him. She hated how he was attacking this one friend she had made in the era. She hated how cruel this bastard was and how much pain her friend was going through. And her own lovely bond with her brother did not help her to look into their complex brotherly bond which seemed to her more like some battle royale. She probaably hated the bitch for showing up and hurting her friend like that even when he, being the older brother should have loved his younger brother and nurtured him like she would do for Souta.

For Sess, it was really weird and shitty all over. A basic human bitch, standing behind Inu like she was weak fawn. Reminded him so much of Izayoi. Someone who never even tried saving his dad. That was why his sarcastic words were like, "Inuyasha, it suits you so much to have a human behind you". Ya and he was irritated by looking at how helpless af the bitch was. He was narcisstic, filipant of Kags presence and all around indifferent to a 'weak human filthy woman', who he felt was just like the one for whom his dad died.

Surprise is how he did not outright murder her. Perhaps he felt like they were worthless and beneath his boots.

Lol, these two are the best.

Inside Inu No Taisho's tomb

Kags was really angry with this bitch who just chained her up, clawed a pearl out of her friend's eye and then jumped into a black hole. That is why she followed with, "This sort of a person, with no blood or humanity in his veins, I cannot forgive him" and then she chased. Even Inu was like, WTF bro. It was fun. Then she spouted lines like, " Take the sword Inuyasha, it will be like a hit to his pride, what a shame!"

How tf did she know about how much his pride hurt him. Lol felt like Kags knew Sess more than Inu ever would and they only met. That was some soulmate level shit right there. Lol!

Then there was Sess who was outright dismissing Kags and she was not even a spec of dust in his eyes. Then she went and pulled that sword out. Remember the scene where he was so surprised that he stopped the battle with Inu and turned around and LOOKED. Like really LOOKED. It was such a heart stopping moment and for good measures as well. He saw a girl, a woman standing there, holding an inheritance which was supposed to be his and she did something he could not. Did Tessaiga accept her then, did his father accept her more than him? He was baffled, confused and low-key awed. That was why he said, "What are you?" And legit measured her top to bottom. That was some turning point for Sess. Something that proved to him that all humans cannot be dismissed. But he was in rage. How can a mere human be worthy of Tessaiga and melted her along with that sword. I wonder if it was his second test to see whether Tessaiga would protect her or not. And then it did!

Sess went ape-shit crazy after that. A sword he desired for so long (The sword used to protect Izayoi was a thorn in his heart. Made him feel like his father had chosen a human over him. But if the sword had accepted him, it would have proved that his dad had still loved him, thought of him). That was the significance of Tessaiga to him. Power sure, but more of an acceptance. His dad's acceptance. And then what happened? The sword preferred a human who then gave it to his damned hated brother.

Aftermath of tomb battle

Kagome never really liked Sess's guts and probably had no form of sympathy towards someone like him. On the other hand things picked up with her and Inu's relation. She came to know some facts about Kik. And her inferiority complex began with her incarnate. But having a part of Kik's soul in her, began her obsession with Inu. She strived to understand him, make a better person of himself. But their relation was still not there to lovers.

Then Sess came across Naraku. He probably just wanted to dick around more with Inu and accepted the human hand.

2nd battle for Tessaiga

Sess's desire to possess the Tessaiga had increased at this point. His rage of having his arm cut off by that sword felt like the worst rejection from his dad. He was going insane and might have wanted to kill Inu for real in this fight. He was in no mood for theatrics in this one, unlike the tomb where he actually watched some InuKag drama and even applauded (lol). He was absolute business this time. He snached the sword and showed Inu exactly why he should not get that sword, 'You cannot even make the wind rift, why should you be more worthy?'

He meant to kill Inu and then Kags arrow sailed in, charging with enough power to even cancel the demonic energy filled into the sword by Sess himself.

His thoughts were for the same reason, " She canceled Tessaiga's transformation? Who is this girl?"

His respect scale jumped for her here. He truly had never met anyone who could rival his power to such extent. He had never met a girl who stood so powerfully in face of danger to protect this some half-breed scum. She was like the embodiment of everything he had hoped Izayoi to be to his dad. A strong woman who would wager her life to save the one she holds dear. Sess had learnt this fact from his dad's death. To sacrifice in name of love and then in this fight he understood how much that meant both for Inuyasha and Kagome. He probably somewhat understood what this feeling was after seeing these two.

Sess had an idea of love and protection and Kags became its centre. She was this vague expectation Sess had of human love and an absolute loyalty towards whom you love most. He felt complicated towards her. He respected her.

3rd Tessaiga battle

Sess's most sceptical battle yet. Why break the tessaiga? 'I will break it if I can't have it!' Desperate much?. Then the wind drift appears and for the first time Sess acknowledges Inu. For maybe being a somewhat worthy of having Taisho's blood, only if a little bit. He is saved by Tenseiga. Oh, how he hated this worthless sword more. This sword could not cut throught things and saves his life. What a worthless shit.

Kagome's narrative here was important. "How can he weild the Tenseiga? He needs a compassionate heart for that." Always wondered why Kags was the one to say this. But realised the reason later on.

Rin

Obviously the most controversial topic of Inuverse. What Sess felt for Rin, why was she there.

Rin has often been compared to be the Kagome version of Sess. And that is the only truth. She came in like a ray of sunshine when he was in most need. He was in self doubt, hate towards Inu and complex emotions towards Kags. And then Rin was there with the exact same face and the same warm feeling like Kags. Even he knew what InuKag were to each other then and no matter how much he respected Kags, he was not really interested in a further relation with Kags. But his deeply unsated desire to understand his dad's mentality and reason behind saving a human was what made him think of Rin. As she was his chance to understand that. His chance to understand why his dad could do that, why Inu could do that and why humans like Kags and Rin could save and love demons. It was not romantic in any sense. He had a confusion and Rin was his way towards a solution. Though it was a different fact that he loved her later on and cherished and protected her. Enough to feel that there was no meaning to his anything if she was not there.

So yes in a way, she is Kags embodiment in Sess's life, a picture of Kags selfless love. His desire to truly understand such beings called selfless humans and the result of his single minded belief of human women being trash and unable to love shattering.

And for fun just to contradict Kags speculations, for first time ever, Sess uses the sword and we viewers realise how wrong Kags was. Sess had every bit of compassion in his heart.

Later events

The events went on with Kags finally understanding her position in Inu's life and her single-minded chase to be accepted by Inu as just Kagome and not Kikyo's reflection. I do not even know if this could be called love or just a misinterpreted need of attention from someone you hold dear. But whatever, we realise Kags is in love with Inu now and still cannot stop from feeling compassion towards Kikyo. Honestly she and Sess are truly two opposite sides of a spectrum.

Sess on the other hand gets Tokijin and attacks Inuyasha. This time around, I highly doubt he was still chasing Tessaiga. It had more evolved into his need to show he is more powerful than Inu. 'What you do best, I can do better.'

Stopping Inu from transforming

In this the most debatable question was whether he was there to stop Inu or not.

Sess had wanted to see and experiment the limits of Inu's blood beast.

After some fighting, Kags jumped in. Sess stared at her, like forever. That staring tho. Even when she was like, "Stay away, you idiot." Sess stared. For Sess, that was what he admired the most in Kags. Her selfless devotion. He was staring at that fearless figure who once again surprised him by being a sacrifice to save her loved ones. She was to Sess what he had always thought of 'love' to be. She was the embodiment of the term 'love' to Sess. For a guy who knew nothing of how to define emotions, it was Kags who showed him what love was. And thus he jumped over and over again in front of Rin to protect her. She taught him how to cherish even the even the most weak individual in a group, and thus he protected Jaken.

Rin was there to show him the same thing everyday. But no matter how much Rin showed him her own loyality, love and warmth, Kags always remained that shining beam to him. I will say later on how I understood this.

Kag's love was the validity of his dad's sacrifice. A way for him to make sense of his dad's mindless death over protecting some weak human.

And in this scene for the first time ever, Kags saw Sess as more than an insufferable pest to her friends. She saw his noble ideals and realised why he was there and thus she thought, "Was he here to save Inuyasha?"

It is very curious as to why Kags was again given these lines. It was probably because her opinion mattered, to Sess it did. And we will see more why in the future.

Random encounters

There was one time when Kags saw Rin while Jaken was trying to steal Tessaiga and she had asked herself, "Why is a little human girl traveling with Sess?' It was again a small thing which she did not need to feel but was very imp. for her development towards Sess. How she started to understand him more.

Kohaku incident

Here we saw how was the first time Sess listened to Kags.

Kags opinion mattered. Inu's mattered and when he realised that Kohaku was being used he let him go. There was one reason that he did not want to be used, the next I am sure was for Kags and Inu. He knew then that Kohaku was imp. to them and he stopped. Big character jump for him.

Then the most curious fact was how Kags knew what the girl meant to him, "Please let him go Sesshomaru, the girl is fine."

Kagome: Thanks Sesshomaru!

Sesshomaru: I just never wanted to be used by Naraku and fall into his trap.

Lol...

Then after Rin left, Kags thoughts about how she had left with Sess and was awed . An important point for her change in feelings towards Sess. She understood the guy was changing and Rin was changing him.

The fun fact was how she was instantly in love with this little girl and that would become important later on.

More random events..

After that it was shown that many times Kags was the only one who could stop a fight bet. the brothers. Example that time when he fought with Inu to get some direction for Naraku. And then Kags came and told him to go north or something and he was like, "That is all I wanted to know." And left.

What is to be seen in these parts is how RT made only him and her interact like this. He listening to her like they have been friends forever.

The saving of Kanta's father was also an example of how much she affected him.

Her plea to save Kanta's dad even when no one believed and no one bothered to ask him. Tensaiga moved because he felt deeply moved by her plea. He might have never wanted to voice it but since Tensaiga only worked when the weilder felt compassion and a need to save someone. Sess must have felt it subconsciously and Tensaiga had stired. Or it had stired because it is a SessKag shipper as well. Lol!

Mukotsu

I wonder how Sess knew Kags was in trouble. Another fun fact like how he appears at times when Inu is not there to save Kags. Sess is there. Probably he knew her scent too well and hence could even distinguish between that and the poison. After that was the gruesome death of Mukotsu. The thing to notice over her was how large Sess looked in that hut doorway, it was a symbolism to how big and huge his protective self looks when he is protecting Kagome. A very romantic thing indeed. The first time he protects someone who is not under his protection. A complete selfless act if considered from his pov. Sess being a very private person and while saving Kagome showed her place in his heart. Yeah and that was very visible from how he killed Mukotsu.

The takeaway from this episode is not this though. It was the fact that Kags defended Sess. For the first time ever, all the good deeds she had seen him doing had outplayed her hatred for him. She accepeted him as a friend with these words, "No Inuyasha, he was here to protect us, he saved us." It was a completely unnecessary detail in the whole scheme of this episode but very important for Sess. Her acceptance matters, her opinion matters and Sess is a Tsundere.

Sesshomaru: I did not save YOU, I just killed him coz he did not answer me properly.

This proved how much she affects him, rattles him and how much her life means to him. And an unspoken promise to himself to protect her when Inu was not around.

Fight with Shishinki

No one ever mentions this fight. But there is a very important SK interaction in here. Something which was important for Sess. Kagome's understanding.

When Sess was lost in the same darkness of never being accepted by his dad, Shishinki made things worse by saying Tenseiga was a cast out of Tessaiga and it was given as a leftover to Taisho's least fav. son. Sesshomaru was hurt, lost, and his daddy issues, his biggest weakness was sharply opened by a knife, cruely and Kagome's words saved him.

Kagome: But there might have been a reason their dad had done this.

Kags belief that Taisho had infact not rejected Sess was like a balm to his soul, the only thing he had needed to hear throughout his life. The thing which made him accept in the end that Tensaiga was there to protect Inuyasha, the thing that was needed to sort of activate Tessaiga and then he finally formed his biggest and truest meido. It was romantic, touching and outright heavenly. Then it was made cute with Inu's awkward concern. It was the best ep. as of yet.

Kagome's deep concern and her understanding of Sess's pain was brilliant and alien level insane. She should not have, but she did and that's why they felt more like soulmates.

Battle with Magatsuhi

Sess had gone batshit crazy when Magatsuhi had hurt Kagome and that had only been worsened by him questioning Sess's honor and pride. Sess had turned full on doggy mode and lost control in that way for the first time since the tomb. And the strike at Magatsuhi's eyes was another symbolism of his revenge for doing shit to Kags eyes and mindfucking her.

RT has always thrown these small hints in between IK drama. Which are brilliant and lovely. Even that one scene where he stands protectively inbetween Kags prostrate body on Kilala and Magatsuhi. Beautiful symbolism, really.

It was also fun to see how Kags half power was sealed by Magatsuhi and Sess's half power was returned via Bakusaiga. I felt that Sess's true acceptance of his protection to Kagome and his detachment from Tessaiga was what made him the true daiyokai and surpass his father. Since somehow Tessaiga has always been linked to protecting Kagome and somehow protecting her might have also been the thing to finding Bakusaiga. The desire to protect her perhaps.

Soul mate mind link theatrics

This is something only some people realise. Sesshomaru and Kagome have been shown not once, but twice to be doing this. Once while fighting for Kohaku's life and the last shard and the other in Naraku's body. Kagome and Sesshomaru had been shown to think in absolute synchronisation. He thinks half the sentence, she completes the rest. Absolute soul mate shit.

SessKag power combo

Shown a lot of time in Inuverse. Sess attacks and Kags completes. A small thing but their timing is insane. And is defintely the best power combo, far better than an InuKag combo.

Fight in Naraku's body

This was the time when Sess finally shows what Kagome means to him. Where she stands and how much he cares for her. She is his FIRST priority. Proof? When Rin and she are in simultaneous danger, he stands there infront of Kags for God knows how long, removing those snake things like he had all the time in the world and once she is awake he is concerned about her well being.

Sess: Those wounds, are those Inuyasha's doing?

And his disappointment in Inuyasha not being able to protect Kags.

Sess: As expected of a half-demon. He lost himself in the bloodlust.

Kags obviously considered Sess to be a friend at this point. A very close friend at that. Family perhaps? Their familiarity here was not missed by anyone. Her defending Inu and then still prioritising Rin over Inu were only somethings we realised this chapter.

The most important was her belief in him.

Manga exclusive,

Kags: I believe that you would be able to do it. Do not fall into Naraku's trap and play his cards that is what he wants. Only you can do this, I know.

Wow, Kags wow...just wow... It is the best actually. She does not believe Inu in this situation but she does Sess. She believes in his protection and she knows her influence on him. This speaks volumes. This shows her unreal connection to him and how they match each other instinctively.

Sess knows her influence. This is his weakness.

The mokomoko scene was truly Sesshomaru's best confession. For him who cannot say much in words, allowed her to fly on mokomoko. Something which everyone of us know has a heavy weightage for Sesshomaru. It is his weapon, his forever companion and his support when he is injured and tired. Offering such a thing to her for whatever reason was truly his way of showing what he exactly feels for her. He cherishes her the most and I could say even more than Rin. Trusts her the most and would jump in front of danger to protect her.

Which is only seen more when he asks her to stay away from the fight because she would be a 'hinderance'. Which means he could not fight if she is in the middle. He would be vulnerable and weak. Intersting, very interesting. Another time where he stood between her and a dangerous blood beast that Inu had become.

The best part was truly him getting concerned when she fell down from the top while removing Tessaiga and then when Magatsuhi tried to possess her.

His anger was so vibrant. "Get away from her!"

What a brilliant thing to say. The possessiveness. The will to protect her. The absolute anger. Brilliant. So much was spoken in those lines.

The best ending though was the SessKag power combo of Bakusaiga and holy arrow. Best ending. Inu was not even much involved in ending Naraku. It was weird how the titular character failed in finishing the main villain with his meido. Shows a lot what SessKag meant to RT.

Big brother

Yes, the iconic scene where fans of all ships shout out that SK is not a romantic ship.

Well over here I want to say that Kagome truly saw Sess as a big brother figure at this point. Part of it was because she still felt that she was in love with Inu and part because she was not receptive to her reactions to Sess and what he truly meant to her at this point. She feels an intimate connection to him but cannot justify the weirdness because she still feels a closeness to Inu so she thinks of him as big brother. Which was a very intimate thing for Kagome to say. She loves him like family and clearly places him higher than the rest of her friends only second to Inu. That was more of a declaring her closeness to Sess rather than a confirmation of her and Inu's relationship. Kags is not a vain character who does things coz they are convinient. She would not call a friend if they are not a friend. And certainly not a big brother if she does not feel so.

Sess actually was relieved, ecsatatic and happy when Jaken informed hin of Kags arrival as was seen in his expression. Very funny actually. Because next second he was called big brother and he was hilariously ticked off. He could not believe what he was being called. Lol that interaction though. It showed how close they ended up being. Even more close than he was to his own brother.

But he accepted the title even if with much pain in his neck and then was really offended when Jaken badmouthed Kagome.

Conclusion: No one badmouths Kagome.

Haaha....end of this long analysis. I tried to analyse it from the character's pov and found some interesting small tidbits and detail that RT had hidden in this story.

Thus I felt that SK would be a more natural ship maybe not outright. Since Sess loves her truly but does not understand the nature of the relation and Kags is still too much blinded by Inu filter a.t.m. Maybe given years when Kags will realise exactly what sort of love she feels for Inu. Which will happen because such a toxic relation like IK should not exist and then she will probably see Sess's love for her.

My Conclusion: SK is a defintive. It will happen with some time and care. When both would mature. But it will happen for sure. All the ingredients are there, the stage has been set just the players have to realise what they feel for each other.

[pearl-star]

Two Way Link

When Marinette cracks and gets akumatized, it’s not what she’s expecting. Hawkmoth is equally confused and more worried than she is. Turns out the mindlink is a two way streak, and her earrings make the link even stronger. Needless to say, some secrets got revealed.

Marinette had allowed herself to imagine herself as an akuma before. It was kind of hard not to when their class started bets for if Marinette or Adrien would get akumatized first. It also didn’t help after seeing Chat Noir’s akumazation first hand. If she ever got akumatized, Hawkmoth wouldn’t win. Oh No. The world would be in ruins. So if it wasn’t already an obvious goal, Marinette made it her mission to never even let a butterfly touch her. Of course she’s only human, and when she’s sleep deprived and dealing with a lot of extra stress her emotions run rampant. Not only did she deal with both night and day akumas for the past week, she also had extra work planning the fundraising events and the school trip. Include all her requests from her friends for different things and her regular school work, Marinette was already at her breaking point. Top it off with a couple idiotic stories from Rossi while the girl would slip in comments dissing the bluenette, and you got the recipe for a perfect akuma victim.

Marinette wasn’t even in the right headspace to try to hold off her emotions. She simply nursed her large cup of coffee, that may or may not be the 6th cup of the day, as she stewed in her seat. Why was her class a bunch of idiots? Like Marinette cared for them still, don’t get her wrong, but they hanged off her every word like it was air. Why didn’t they get curious and do a little research of their own? It would have saved everyone the trouble. And Adrien’s dumb high road advice would do more harm than good. He’s worried about Lila getting akumatized? Try the whole class when the truth gets out. Of course, Marientte had almost been akumatized because of Lila. Maybe she should have slipped that into her conversation with Adrien. That might have changed his mind. It didn’t matter much now though. She had just begun to speak normally around him. He might think that Marinette was lying about it to make him see her way, and that wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

No one even noticed the butterfly coming into the room. It was only noticed when it landed on the coffee cup that Marinette held and the glowing mask appeared on her face. Very quickly, the class turned around and stared at their class rep. Marinette merely blinked a few times before groaning. “Really!? Come on! I was doing so good until now. Okay, you know what, fine. You want to akumatized me? Whatever. Just put the butterfly somewhere other than my coffee. I need that if I’m going to make it through today. You’re to blame for this, by the way. You couldn’t have just stopped with the akumas for the day could you. I mean one a day is bad enough. Why did you have to do two in one day? And at, like, 2am dude? Really?” Hawkmoth was just confused as the rest of her class. Marinette’s face scrunched up before her jaw dropped. “WAIT! GABRIEL AGRESTE!? YOU’RE HAWKMOTH!!?” The class paused before freaking out. Hawkmoth paled. He didn’t even get time to do his monologue before the girl started to speak out at him. As he started to reading deeper into her thoughts, he realized something. “You’re… Ladybug?” He was honestly surprised that this clumsy girl could possibly be Ladybug. Marinette just scowled. “Oh stop. I can feel your judgment from here. It’s a secret identity for a reason. Of course I’ll act differently with magical jewelry. Except, you don’t act too different than you do in real life. Maybe treat your son better, will you? He needs to have a backbone for when Rossi and Cholé drape themselves over him.” Cholé gasped and Lila tried to turn the tale but Marinette continued.

“I’ll give Cholé the benefit of the doubt since she had been childhood friends with him, but what Lila’s doing is bordering of sexual harassment. And you employed her as a model too. Like do you even care about you own son’s mental well-being?” Gabriel made the mistake of thinking about Lila and Marinette’s face shifted from shock to neutral. “Okay, so you made her spy on Adrien and report back to you as well as cause akumas. Got it. And that’s an interesting fact about her willingly getting akuamtized. Too bad my class has become too ignorant to realize that every word she says is nothing more than bull crap.” Hawkmoth, Gabriel, should have tried to rein her in. However when he tried it, magic was interfering. It was something that Nooroo had warned him about once before when he expressed the desire to akumatized Ladybug or Chat Noir. They would naturally have more resistance to him, especially Ladybug since her powers balanced for good and becoming evil would take drastic measures. Before he could try to act, the girl spoke again. “Oh, it’s nice to know that you at least let Nooroo talk. Seriously, I forgot about that whole Sandboy fiasco for a second. You couldn’t have at least allowed Nooroo to enjoy his whatever number cycle in peace. You had to traumatize so many people by creating their nightmares.” No one noticed as Adrien slipped away to transform.

Plagg flew out of his pocket and had the audacity to be laughing. “What is so funny?!” He demanded. Marinette was akumatized! Not only that, but she was Ladybug. Ladybug was akumatized and the akuma won’t be purified. Nor would any of the damage be reversed. Not to mention that his own dad was apparently Hawkmoth. Plagg caught his breath and was able to speak. “I’m sorry, but it’s too funny! This love square you guys had going on was great entertainment already. Top that with what Spots is doing and it’s gold.” Adrien decided to ignore what Plagg was saying for now and transform instead. While he was doing that, Marinette decided to discover something very important: what Gabriel’s motivation was.

Marinette clamped a hand to her mouth as she pulled the memory from his mind. Then that shock turned to hot rage. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?” ALL THIS TIME YOU HAVE KEPT YOUR WIFE IN A GLASS COFFIN IN YOUR FUCKING BASEMENT LAIR?!?” Hawkmoth actually flinched from the raw power and anger she emanated. He made the mistake of recalling the peacock miraculous, setting the girl off on another tangent. “AND YOU’RE ALLOWING NATHALIE TO USE A BROKEN MIRACULOUS?!? Wow! Just, Wow!” Maybe if he detransformed and left now, he wouldn’t have to face the girl’s wrath. Nooroo’s powers allowed them to feel the strength of a person’s emotions. Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s emotions showed that even without powers or a miraculous, she would kill him with her bare hands. If he was told a day before that she would be capable of murder, he would never have believed it. Now though, he was scared.

It was at that time that Chat Noir decided to bust in. He was both shocked and impressed that Marinette was still holding out. Maybe if he destroyed the object now she won’t be transformed. Of course would that negatively effect her somehow? Before he could ponder it longer, the girl in question acted first. “You better meet me in front of your mansion and give me both the butterfly and peacock miraculous. You also better fire Rossi and put a restraining order on her so she can’t touch Adrien again. Otherwise this cup will be replaced with your neck.” Marinette crushed the cup with her hand and the butterfly flew out. Standing up, she called on her transformation before her kwami could protest. She swiped the akuma out from the air and looked around. The whole class was quite. Lila didn’t even try to say anything, and in fact she shrunk under her stare. “Alrighty then. Time to go kitty.” She walked calmly out of the room, ignoring everything that just had happened. Chat paused before following her.

Back in his lair, Gabriel detransformed from shock. Nooroo tried to hide his smirk. Wordlessly, he went back into the main part of his house and approached Natalie. She looked confused. “What’s wrong? I thought you were finally akuamtizing Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Gabriel just shook his head and held his hand out. He was slightly shaking. “Just give me the peacock miraculous. Turns out, she’s a lot more dangerous than expected.” Natalie wanted to question her boss, but he seemed to be in shock. She did as asked and followed him as he walked out the front doors of the mansion. Outside was a smiling Ladybug and a concerned Chat Noir. Ladybug’s smile looked dangerous, like she was giving a warning. When Gabriel willingly handed over both miraculouses, Ladybug laughed. A dangerous sweetness dripping out. “Thank you! Also you better be honest with what you’re wife was doing with the miraculous when the police question you. I’ll see if the damage can be undone without the potential for ending the world. Oh also I will be taking your son away. He deserves better parents and I’m sure that mine will spoil him. Chat you take his assistant, I’ll grab him. It’s time to drop them off.” Chat grabbed Natalie and had her over his shoulder before she could react. Ladybug did the same to Gabriel, ensuring that neither could make a grab for their miraculouses.

A lot of things happened on that day. Hawkmoth and Mayura were announced to be defeated. Gabriel confessed to having Lila work for him both as a spy and as a willing accomplish for Hawkmoth. Adrien’s mom was brought to a hospital and Master Fu repaired the peacock miraculous and reversed the damage done to both her and Natalie. Lila was taken off to serve time in juvie and the two adults went to jail. Adrien was not to blame and was unofficially adopted by Marinette’s parents, which resulted in him spending a lot of time at the bakery. Adrien’s mom and Gabriel both revealed how she was forced into the marriage and forced to use the miraculous against her will. She got a divorce and ensured that Adrien got therapy. He was able to quit modeling and even got a restraining order against Lila just in case. He revealed himself to Marinette after a month and they decided to date. Her class did everything to make it up to the bluenette, but she merely shrugged at their words. She could care less now. They only wanted her to be their friend again because she was Ladybug. She and Chat announced their retirement to Paris two weeks after Hawkmoth’s defeat, although she still got to see Tikki and Plagg. It seemed like getting akumatized was the best thing that had happened to her.

[thinknicht]

Kakashi loses his father and Minato gains a puppy

Kakashi had been mad at his dad for months now – for screwing up that stupid mission, for losing all his awesome reputation because of it, for getting replaced by a ghost. Everybody had said his dad was going to cost them the war, that he was a selfish bastard; everybody had whispered and subtly let Kakashi know just how much of a disappointment his father was. 

It was so unfair! Why did he have to make a stupid mistake? He was supposed to be perfect, Konoha’s elite White Fang. Everybody was supposed to love and admire him… it shouldn’t be like this. The Hatake Sakumo he knew and admired was always proud and straight-backed, confident and sure. He wasn’t supposed to make mistakes, to have people hate him so much that they’d treat him and Kakashi both like trash. Kakashi… couldn’t do much. He was just a kid – but he could feel. He’d felt all sorts of things – he had been scared and ashamed and sad at it all – but mostly he’d been furious. He’d been mad at the old ladies gossiping about his dad on the street, at his classmates who’d previously admired him but would now shoot him derisive looks, at their parents who mumbled bad words behind his back, thinking he couldn’t hear – or perhaps not caring. But most of all he was mad at his dad for not defending himself, for not defending him. 

Picking up Kakashi from the Academy, he must have heard the whispering parents too, seen the looks Kakashi’s classmates kept shooting at him – but instead of standing proud whilst slinging Kakashi upon his shoulders like he had used to, Sakumo had bowed his head and said nothing. They had walked silently home, side by side – yet it had felt like they were worlds apart. He couldn't stop thinking about how his dad hadn’t met the eyes of those gossiping parents, or even their children. Of what those parents had said and how his dad’s hand had trembled on his back as he’d led Kakashi away.

The dishonoured White Fang. He too, must know the gravity of what he’d done, they whispered. Just look at him, at those eyebags and posture. It seemed like the pathetic scumbag at least recognized what he was. Suits him right, they crowed, for almost costing Konoha the war. It’d be better if that drunk disgrace just ended it already. 

The words had hurt – but they couldn't compare to his father's reaction. It had challenged some of Kakashi’s most visceral beliefs about what his dad was like. Day after day, his father would pick him up from the Academy and never defend him,  never look anyone in the eyes, like a beat down dog. Then, one day he didn't come. After waiting in the rain for over thirty minutes, Kakashi  had realised this. He’d been forgotten, cast aside.  No one would come to pick him up. Kakashi had begun walking home alone after that – every day. His father hadn’t mentioned it at dinner. The added responsibility was not as exciting as he’d always pictured it to be.

Some days it had all gotten to be too much and he’d said something rude and frustrated to his dad – but he hadn’t really meant it! He’d just been acting petulant. He’d just wanted things to get better… to go back to how they’d used to be. He’d wanted Sakumo to snap out of the weird dazes he got into lately, maybe even get angry at him and defend himself, even if Kakashi had to take the brunt of his fury. It would have been okay. Kakashi had just wanted him to react – anything at all would have been preferred to the emptiness that constantly seemed to follow him, dull grey eyes unnerving… unfocused… wrong . Kakashi had just wanted things to return to how they used to be.

 The winter was cold and harsh, reflecting Kakashi's mood perfectly. Overcast skies and short days were not conductive to good humor, but with the beginnings of spring, Kakashi felt the beginnings of new hope sprout within him. Perhaps, now that everything was brighter and better, his dad would get better too?

He'd been in a good mood all week so much so that he didn't even mind that much when his dad forgot to make breakfast or lunch or shown his face at all. This had happened a few times before, him falling asleep and not waking up for a long time. By dinner Kakashi decided to go look for him, maybe get him to come out to the porch and look at the rabbit den he'd spotted in the garden. And yet dad wasn’t in his room or the living room or the bathroom or the kitchen. After checking everywhere else he could think, he’d gone to the west wing. His father had always avoided it because it contained his mother’s old bedroom, the one both of his parents had used to sleep in before he was born… the one dad never used anymore. 

 There was a smell in the corridor… unpleasant, disgusting. He had been ignoring it until now, and he kept doing so. Maybe his father had left to the bar or even a mission! Or maybe he’d gone to mom's grave. He should just… 

He went back to the kitchen and ate dinner. He brushed his teeth. He put on his pajamas and went to bed. It had been a long time since his father had tucked him in. Normally, Kakashi was responsible in following his bed time, but that night he felt restless. Against his father’s wishes (who was he kidding, nobody would scold him) he flipped on the light again and paged through a scroll – he would look for dad tomorrow, hopefully by then the smell would be gone. But the stench was getting worse and worse and finally he set the scroll aside and propped himself up. There was no way he could keep ignoring it any longer. It had penetrated up his nostrils and into his bloodstream, slinking into the very marrow of his bones.  Those of Hatake descent had extremely sharp noses; at this rate sleeping would be impossible.

Resigned to some inminent pain in his nostrils, Kakashi crawled out of his futon and folded it carefully, his stomach pooling with dread. It was unreasonable. He wasn’t a little baby anymore – he was six . It was just a smell. Maybe some dead animal had gotten in, he told himself. He’d throw it out and that was that. And yet every part of him told him to turn around. He didn’t. 

 Earlier, Kakashi had left his mother’s room out of the search for his father before – perhaps because a part of him had known all along what he would find.  Still, the sight of his father’s rigid corpse shocked him down to the very core. It had to be a joke, a trick, a training exercise, he thought wildly, but he didn’t dare step into the room to check.  Kakashi was a logical creature even then and he knew that that made little sense – Sakumo hadn’t trained or played with him in months, and he was sensitive about strong smells. No. What he was seeing was exactly as it appeared.

He was dead. Not murdered or assassinated – dead.

The body of his dead father was sprawled upon the blood-splattered floor, flies buzzing around it noisily. A katana gleamed, reflecting the moonlight that streamed in from the window as it protruded from his stomach. Sepukku. The samurai’s suicide ritual.

Kakashi had known something was wrong even before going into his mother’s old room, but nothing could have prepared him for this. His father – dead. The flies, the blood, the smell, the choice he had made – seppuku .

After standing there for maybe minutes or maybe seconds, his recollection of the night’s events got blurry. Kakashi barely remembered running out of the house in still in his pajamas and barefoot, or stepping on glass as he rushed away, away, away. He barely remembered barging into the hokage tower, leaving bloody footprints in his wake and sobbing uncontrollably. He barely remembered explaining much of anything, other than repeating ‘sepukku’, ‘sepukku’, 'sepukku’ like a mantra. The look in the hokage’s eyes said he understood. Someone had sedated him after that.

  It had been a month since then. He couldn’t go to sleep at night anymore without seeing Sakumo’s cold body sprawled upon the blood-stained wood whenever he closed his eyes, without smelling that smell . He couldn’t dream anymore, couldn’t get a full night’s sleep. He couldn’t train with Sakumo anymore or count the days until he’d be back from his latest mission. He couldn’t do any of those things – because Sakumo had abandoned him.

 The villager’s behavior toward him didn’t improve. In fact, it was as if Sakumo’s death had been kindling thrown into a fire. Where previously people had only whispered about the White Fang’s shameful, pathetic, selfish behavior, now they all talked about it openly. Every gossiping old lady told their neighbor that they’d always known there was something cowardly and dishonourable about that Hatake dog. Drinking himself into a stupor to then commit suicide, and to top it off with his kid at home! It was rumored that the poor boy had found the man in a pool of blood and sake. What a pathetic waste of space he had been! 

Kakashi’s mask, until then vehemently hated, had suddenly become a reprieve – he was harder to recognize with it. His training, which had previously been the way in which he connected with Sakumo, the way in which he strove to impress him when he returned from missions, now became the only thing he had left. He trained constantly, both resenting and missing Sakumo in equal measure, his exertions the only outlet. During those moments, when his body and spirit trembled and his eyes misted, he swore to himself that he would never make the same mistake.

 Sakumo had died (had killed himself) for breaking the rules. Everybody said so. Kakashi had always known that the rules were important, but a few times he’d felt tempted to question them – like when that frog girl had crossdressed as a boy. He had seen her sometimes afterward, when he’d glanced out of his classroom window, sitting all alone and friendless in the yard outside while her classmates played – and he had known immediately that this was his fault, that his rule-abiding had done that. Before he’d confronted her, she’d had friends, he’d seen it. He hadn’t liked that… somehow it had annoyed him, he didn’t know why. He’d told her sensei about it, just kind of expecting she’d get into trouble for a bit and maybe find him to throw another tadpole at him afterward… but that hadn’t been what had happened. She hadn’t found him to throw tadpoles at him whatsoever, and instead had started looking sullen and withdrawn and sad whenever he saw her from the window. He hadn’t wanted that. He’d just wanted to follow the rules.

A part of him had begun to doubt his decision then. A part of him had felt guilty.

He had thought about breaking the rules other times too, like when a hard test was coming up and he’d been tempted to sneak into the teacher’s room to check the answers – this was practically in a ninja’s job description after all – though he’d settled for studying all night in the end. 

He had felt bad, too, about more indirect breaches like getting all riled up when that frog girl called him names. Ninja weren’t supposed to fall for taunts, it was in the shinobi handbook that they show no emotion because talling for taunts lead to mistakes. But he kind of enjoyed the breach in the monotony that the frog girl and her loud bowlcut friend provided. He liked that they weren’t all admiring and brown-nosing around him like all his classmates, and, though he’d never admit it to himself, he liked the stories they came up with too, and when he was bored in class he would sometimes picture the annoyed faces frog girl would make at him when he outsmarted her and snicker. But ninja should live in the present, without distractions or indulgences in childish make-belief games, he realized that now. That girl was a rule-breaker more than anyone else he knew, and if Kakashi had learned something from his father’s death it was this: he would never, ever break a rule again. Any rule.

 He stopped going to frog girl and bowlcut’s meadow. At first a part of him missed them. He was all alone, after all – but – he still didn’t go, didn’t want to see their looks of pity – or even worse – disgust. He kept wanting to drop by but then not doing it. He had other things to keep him busy, like being a genin. He was a ninja now.

He wouldn’t make his father’s mistakes in his career, he swore to himself. He’d follow the ninja handbook to a T and then nothing like what Sakumo had gone through would happen to him. He had graduated now and frog girl and bowlcut were just kids . He had better things to do than them now, like training and having endless nightmares.

 At night, he couldn’t keep lying to himself. He cried himself to sleep often.

During the day, he kept his mask on and his feelings off, and surely things would get better if he did that. He had been accustomed to living alone from when his father left on missions, but this was different. He was in charge of his dad’s money now and other things like cooking and cleaning and bills and… he felt anxiety just thinking about it. He knew he’d have to pay some kind of bills for electricity and hot water and heat and all that later on, but he didn’t know how or where or when to do it. Money wasn’t an issue, his father had never lacked it, but he still got nervous thinking about what if he suddenly ran out or someone scammed him?

 He had spent the first week after That Night with another family – the Sarutobi household – the first week after his dad had died. Then he’d graduated the Academy and the hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had told him that he was welcome to stay with them, though he could become independent now too if he wanted, seeing as he was now a genin – legally an adult. Kakashi had jumped at the chance of being alone. Asuma’s constant invasive presence and probing questions had been stifling, his mom’s mothering unwanted, the pitying looks they all kept shooting at him less than welcome.

“I will return home,” he’d told the hokage immediately. The more Hiruzen had insisted to the contrary, the stronger Kakashi’s determination to be left alone.

  Now, he was regretting that decision… he hated living alone, hated the empty spaces and the silent Estate. At this point he'd agree to live with anyone, but his pride kept him from going back to the Sarutobi household. He missed his dad… he missed frog girl and bowlcut but didn’t know how to reach out. He felt so, so alone. He wanted to be independent and strong and rule-abiding, but he wanted a hug too and a good night’s sleep and some excuse to leave this stifling estate where his dad had killed himself, but he couldn’t let himself look weak, he couldn’t , didn’t even know how – and he didn’t know what to do.

 He had started going to the central market in Konoha, even though it was very far from the Hatake Estate, which was located at the village’s outskirts. He told himself it was just because the central market was better than the small shop he’d used to frequent, even though he’d never bothered to go there Before.

At the market, he would dawdle and soak in the people and chatter, floating through the lively atmosphere. It made the loneliness starker but also duller. Before, he had loved to have his peace and quiet, but now silences haunted him. Now the noises of people had become a balm. He often just walked around the stalls, peering at the wares and at the people and listened . He didn’t do anything else. A part of him had hoped to maybe run into someone he liked there… but of course he never did. He should have known that none of his classmates or frog girl or bowlcut would be there, of course. If he had really wanted to find them, he knew he could, but somehow he didn’t.

 He was shaken out of his musings when the blond man appeared again. Kakashi and the blond man had coincided a few times in the market already. The blonde would often sit on a bench and do nothing in particular, though he’d sometimes bring books to snicker at, or chat up girls and vendors alike when they passed him by. The blonde man had a radiant smile and people seemed to love him, Kakashi had noticed. A part of him wanted to be mad at him for that, for having something he so sorely wanted but didn’t have, not any longer, not after that mission – but he mostly found himself being unable to muster up much resentment.

Sometimes, Kakashi wondered why the blond man would spend so much time at the market, just like him. Was he lonely too? Did his family leave him behind like Kakashi’s father? Despite himself, he’d gotten curious. He had made a habit of going to the market every day and he’d started getting to know the regulars. During his excursions, Kakashi always wore bland clothes and the mask so that he wouldn’t be noticed as much, but he in turn did notice the people, and the blonde man was often there – except sometimes when he left on missions, or so Kakashi assumed. The blonde man was a ninja.

He’d never dared to approach, but today he felt tired… so he sat down on the bench across the blonde to eat an apple he’d bought. He tried to divine what the man was reading, to subtly glance at his book’s cover… but he got caught looking. The blonde gave him a smile, then returned to his book. Kakashi didn’t dare to look again but his heart pounded. A while later, the blonde was cornered by some civilian ladies who wanted his opinion on some of their wares and ushered him away. Finally, Kakashi dared to steal another glance, then stood up and stretched, readying to go back to the estate.

 That smile… it had struck him like a punch to the gut. How long since anyone had just… smiled at him? He couldn’t remember the last time. Lately, he was always alone, and when he wasn’t, all he saw in people’s eyes was either disinterest or distaste, depending on whether they recognized him or not. Sometimes there was pity in the case of his father’s former friends like the hokage. 

Missions weren’t any better. In fact, he found that he hated the whole thing. Without fail, he always got passed around the genin teams, mostly replacing recently deceased members, and was never liked by the other integrants. He wasn’t sure if it was because they knew his reputation, because he was so much younger (and better, he privately thought) than them, or because he was the replacement of their dead friends. Yes, Kakashi thought. Nobody had smiled at him in a long, long time… He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until that very moment.

 The next day, he sat on the bench across the blonde again… and the day after too. He always noticed when the man was gone on missions and he… it wasn’t like he was stalking him or anything, but the man – Minato, the old ladies called him – would always smile that warm smile at him, and Kakashi… Kakashi cherished it. He mustn't know who he was, that Minato. A part of him feared what would happen if he found out… would he start glaring at Kakashi if he did?

 One day, Minato sat down next to him. Kakashi froze and almost bolted… but the blonde just pulled a book out of his pouch and calmly began to thumb through it, like always. He talked to the merchants like always too, and Kakashi slowly relaxed. The week afterward, when Minato returned from what must have been a mission, he sat next to Kakashi again, surprising him once more, but he relaxed quicker than last time.

 “Mind if I take one?” Minato asked, peering at him from over his book. “Those oranges look mouth-watering.”

Kakashi startled and looked at Minato suspiciously. “You’re an adult. You shouldn’t be asking kids to give you their oranges.”

The blonde’s lips quirked into that smile again and Kakashi almost forgot he was supposed to be acting pissed-suspicious. “Yeah, but aren’t you one too?” Minato asked with a chuckle. “A legal adult? I’ve heard about you, you’ve made genin, haven’t you?”

Kakashi was startled for two reasons: one – adults never acknowledged he was independent and two – Minato knew who he was! And he still smiled at him?

“I guess you can have an orange,” Kakashi decided, handing it over.

Minato laughed. “Thanks, kiddo. Also, I was going to say that I would pay you back before you interrupted me.” He chuckled. “You’re always here, so I figured I’d treat you next time we meet.”

Next time.

Kakashi’s breath hitched. “S-sure. I mean whatever, it’s just an orange.”

The blonde chuckled. “So you don’t want to get treated, huh? Well, I guess it’s no sweat off my back…”

“That’s not what I said!” Kakashi exclaimed, wide-eyed. He took it back! He wanted to meet with Minato again!

The blonde teen laughed, suddenly reaching out to give him a mighty head ruffle. “Alright, alright. I’ll treat you to some dango then, I think.”

“I don’t like sweets,” Kakashi informed, crossing his arms, but secretly wishing for another head-ruffle.

“You say that now … but have you tried the fried eggplant with honey?” the blonde prodded happily. “Maki-baa makes ones to die for!”

“Eggplant,” Kakashi repeated dubiously, “with honey ? What kind of crazy person would make a sweet out of eggplant ?”

Minato smirked at him. “Just you wait. You’re going to be blown away, Kakashi!”

“H-hey! How do you know my name,” Kakashi muttered. “Stalker.”

The blonde chuckled. “Kid, I’m a master infiltrator. Knowing these things is pretty much my job.”

“Yeah, well you look like a girl,” Kakashi spluttered, embarrassed for some reason. “And way too young.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m nineteen and my looks are great for making people underestimate me, so… peace!”

“You’re weird,” Kakashi declared.

“Ah, wait till you try the eggplant. You’ll join the dark side soon.”

“ Right .”

  Somehow, Minato never suddenly decided that Kakashi was a persona non grata. He never avoided him, never stopped being kind. Kakashi found himself missing the blonde intensely when he was gone on missions, though he never admitted to it.

Life continued and things got easier… or maybe he just got used to his situation. He got used to his nightmares, used to the silence, used to the glares. Like all shinobi worth their salt, Kakashi adapted. He stopped getting crawls just from looking at the Hatake estate, though he still avoided the west wing like the plague. He completed D-ranks with ease and watched as other genin got sent out to the field and didn’t come back. He got used to being a replacement for the dead genin too… there were many. Still, a part of him wished he could have his own team, his own sensei. He wanted it so badly… why couldn’t he have what everyone else did? He surmised none of the jonin wanted to get stuck with the little kid, with the White Fang’s spawn. He understood. He still wished though.

Autumn came and went and the days got colder. Less people visited the market now, but Kakashi still went religiously. Despite his pride, he had finally worked up the courage to ask Minato how to deal with taxes and bills… even though he’d hated doing it, because he was afraid Minato would think he was a little kid after all if he asked. But the blonde hadn’t done that. He’d gone into long-winded, excited explanations on book-keeping, tax-paying, old fogies who might try to mess up his taxes so he needed to check everything over carefully, remember that, Kakashi!, and most importantly, what Minato had happily dubbed ‘money-saving ninja skills’. Kakashi had never enjoyed learning about anything more, but maybe that was because it was Minato who was teaching him.

One day, Minato showed him how to fish in order to save money. Another day he invited Kakashi to a training ground and taught him how to season said fish. Then, the week after they went to the woods and they cooked a rabbit. Minato would often give him tips on how to save money whilst doing all of this, though Kakashi privately thought that the blonde wouldn’t really need to follow his own advice since merchants were constantly gifting him their wares or inviting him over. At the beginning, Kakashi had wondered why everyone liked Minato so much, but now he understood. Minato was special… he was… sometimes, Kakashi couldn’t believe that someone like that would bother to give him the time of day. It was... the best thing that had happend to him in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

  Over the years, someone had taken up the nasty habit of drawing odd preschooler figures on his window when it was fogged up from the cold, or with crayons and chalk during the summer. Kakashi had been trying to catch the perpetrator ever since they'd begun, thinking that it might have been frog girl or bowl cut, but never managed. When he grumbled about it halfheartedly to Minato one day, the blonde  burst out laughing.

“Ah, the henohenomoheji? That was me!”

“What?” repeated Kakashi dubiously. “You’re the person who draws them? But they look like they were made by a preschooler!”

“Ah, I guess it’s a habit, from when my siblings were still… anyway, yeah! I’m not an artist, that’s for sure,” Minato told him sheepishly. “But I wasn’t trying to bother you, I promise. The henohenomoheji were just my way of telling you that I’d returned to the village after a mission, Kakashi. I always stop by your place to sketch a quick one on my way to the tower.”

“Oh.” The tower was on the other side of the village. Kakashi gulped. He felt happy Minato went out of his way like that, he really did, but… a part of him had hoped…

“Kakashi? What’s with that look?” Minato asked softly. “I… didn’t know it would upset you. I’ll stop, I promise.”

“No, don’t,” Kakashi mumbled.

He should have known it hadn’t been those two. Of course they must have thought the same as everyone else, that he was a disgrace and not worth hanging out with. Why had he even expected otherwise? Frog girl and bowlcut had probably forgotten all about him by now. He felt some part of him freeze at that. If they’d forgotten him so easily, he had no reason to expend energy thinking about them either. Firmly, Kakashi pushed the two out of his mind. He would not think about them again.

“Kakashi? Is everything… alright?” Minato’s deep blue eyes were filled with concern and Kakashi felt the coldness that had spread in his gut thaw.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Minato nodded slowly. “Well… I have some news that will cheer you up! I applied to be a jonin sensei. How’s that for cool?”

Kakashi frowned. “A… a jonin sensei?” Hope lit up within him. “Does that mean… you’ll…?”

“Yep! You’re my student now, Kakashi! Hope you’re not too put off by this pretty face.”

Kakashi’s lips split into a large grin, his cheeks hurting from the rare action. The mask would cover it, but Minato had never had any issue with reading his expressions before. Smiling brightly, the blond teen lurched forward to give him one of those wild head-ruffle noogies Kakashi adored so much.

“I guess it could be worse,” he muttered, failing rather spectacularly at hiding his excitement.

“Don’t be coy with me, Kakashi! I’m your sensei now and what kind of pupil lies to their sensei!”

“Sh-shut up, Minato… sensei.”

“Awww! And he’s blushing! I need to take a picture!”

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

Note: this is an extract of my story misnomer, hence the frog girl oc, but I figured this chapter pretty much doubled as a Kakashi character stude so here you go! Hope you enjoyed!

(Also, in case it wasn’t obvious from the japanese characters, the image above is not mine.)

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

KH OC Week: Day 7

Original Prompt: Home

Summary: Day 7 (the last day?!!) of @khoc-week is for a very fun love square + Skuld. 😂 Not quite sure if it’s in line with Daybreak Academy, a ‘nobody dies’ AU, or just any kind of happy-go-lucky ending that obviously isn’t canon. Just let our kids be happy plz. Also, quick shout out to everyone that participated in KH OC week; great job, and thanks so much for sharing!

Word Count: 531

☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

They were a very loud bunch, but Anora loved them all with the very fiber of her being. At least Strelitzia knew there was a time to be quiet and listen. No one should let that fool them, though- once you got to a topic she adored, Strelitzia would go on for hours at different pitches of voice. Seeing her be so animated was something Anora adored. There was something in each of them Anora knew she adored.

Ephemer always had energy, and didn’t hesitate to do something when he put a certain thought into his head. Brain was always relaxed and protective of his friends. At the same time, he knew when to give someone space. His advice was usually bar none. And if Strelitzia wasn’t trying to step up to defuse a situation, Skuld was already on the job. Everyone hated to be under Skuld’s scrutinizing gaze, and so they tried to stay out of it. For the most part; Ephemer’s ideas were usually a sure fire way of getting in trouble, and that likelihood only compounded when Brain tossed his fedora into the ring.

In all honesty, Anora was the one they could have easily forgotten about. She really didn’t contribute much to any conversation, and her presence was so unnoticeable that she accidentally scared people before by just standing next to them. At the same time, it just gave her a greater appreciation of just what made her friends so animated.

Tonight, the five of them had gotten together for a sleepover at Skuld’s place. They had camped out in the living room with nothing but sleeping bags, and a bowl of chips in the center. Some games also occupied the center, but only Skuld and Brain showed any real interest in playing anything. Ephemer wanted to talk up a storm- not helped by Strelitzia listening rather intently to what he had to say. Anora was honestly starting to feel sleepy admiring her friends.

“Are you alright, Anora?” Strelitzia asked as she carefully wiggled her sleeping bag over. Anora gave her a nod, also scooting over a bit to gently nuzzle her in affirmation. A blush crossed Strelitzia’s features while she got a bit more comfortable in Anora’s embrace.

Quite comfortable with each other, the girls turned their attention to their other friends. Skuld and Brain were engaged in what appeared to be a rather heated checkers match. Ephemer was cheering them on in equal measure- one moment complimenting a move Skuld made that made it hard for Brain to move, before switching gears and going absolutely wild when Brain made a move that took three of Skuld’s checker pieces off the board. It was rather funny to watch, honestly. Skuld and Brain didn’t seem to be giving him much mind, in fact, they talked more to themselves after each move.

“I love you guys.” Anora drowsily admitted in a small voice. Strelitzia looked at her, about to ask what she had said, but Anora had already drifted off to sleep. A smile was on her face as she dozed. Even if this was Skuld’s house, and her friends were not really her family, this was home.

[fandomsilhouette]

tend hearts to bloom (our folly exhumed)

Bud, blossom, wither, wane, kindness grows and kindness strains; in the earth compassion blooms, in their hearts their terror dooms the building of friendship’s pursuit until hope shatters or takes root. Which will it be, they’ll have to see, for the butterfly alights: so begins their plight. 

Happy @felinettenovember, y’all! I think @musicfren and I are finally getting the hang of not turning these weekend pairs into five thousand words that we don’t have time to write, so this was actually for real done in a reasonable amount of time. This is, as always, super fluffy thanks to him, and I hope you have fun with it! 

Part 1 below. Part 2 upcoming. 

Felix meets Marinette with dirt under her nails and grass stains on her skirt, kneeling in mud cooing over a leaf. The day is sweltering, and the sweat that clings to every surface of Felix’s skin is starting to set his teeth on edge. He swats at a fly and looks down at her, seeming so at home in the soil and the silt.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Relieved to have someone, anyone take some sort of interest in her work, Marinette brightens up instantly. “...there’s a caterpillar on this leaf. Shh, you’ll scare them away.” Marinette reaches one grubby hand back behind and, before Felix can manage to flinch away, clamps it down on his wrist and yanks him onto his knees with her. 

Felix yelps, trying desperately to avoid getting mud on his expertly tailored pants. “What are you DOING?!” The caterpillar scampers away and suddenly he’s face to face with the full force of a disappointed hurricane of a girl. He instinctively squirms backwards into remorse, halfway through stuttering an apology before her attention catches on something else. 

“A geranium!” Marinette brushes her fingers over soft petals and Felix finds himself blushing, not even sure why. She’s so gentle with it, barely touching it at all, rapt and delighted, and it shows in the bright blue of her eyes when she turns to him and asks: “Do you like them?” 

Felix has never cared for flowers. They belong to that irritating, uncomfortable, disgusting outside that he’s spent such a large portion of his tiny life avoiding at all costs. But now, kneeling in the earth with the warmth of her presence brushing against his skin, and her imploring gaze boring into him, Felix lets out a sheepish “...yeah, I… I think they’re pretty cool.”

She absolutely beams at him. “I think they’re beautiful! Flowers have so much to say, don’t you think? Hi, I’m Marinette!” She sticks out a hand absolutely caked in dirt, and Felix, entranced and repulsed in equal measure, finds himself taking it. 

He doesn’t even wipe the mud off afterwards. 

A week of furious planning and panicked focusing later, Felix finds Marinette kneeling in the same patch of earth. Without prelude he plops a massive stack of papers and drawings in front of her, nearly snapping the old wooden bench in two and sending Marinette recoiling from the thump.

“You… you, um, you said flowers said things.” He stammers, pushing himself over the edge of conversation with both hands. “So I’m gonna show you what they say.”

Marinette, intrigued but pausing to make sure her newly bloomed daffodils are okay, runs a curious hand over the pages. Felix bites his tongue and tries not to shudder as his immaculate tables become spattered with soil, and then considers the possibility of getting to see her fingerprints on his work for the rest of his life.

He shudders for a different reason, then, a pleased blush creeping across his face like vines over fresh soil.

“This is wrong,” she says after a long moment’s musing, jabbing at a page. Felix’s heart leaps into his chest, unsure how his construction could be wrong but terrified to have this veritable expert on flowers and love say it is anyway.

“Orange lilies should be something else. I don’t think they mean hatred!” 

“That’s… what it said, when I looked it up.” 

She pouts at him, lip wobbling. “But… they’re so pretty! Can’t… we just decide for ourselves?” 

Felix squirms uncomfortably at this. “But my research…”

Her pout intensifies, then dissolves into her idea face. “We could make our own flower language! One that means what we want it to say. Special, just for us.” She looks at him so fondly, so hopefully, Felix has nothing left in him with which to refuse. 

Half a week later, they’re speaking almost entirely in flowers, slipping references in wherever they can and giggling when they trip over their own imagination. There are still so many kinks in the system, and Marinette and Felix are looking forward to finding and fixing every single one. 

They work together after school and between classes, huddled in the back of the library scribbling madly over each other and filling their notebooks with flowers. The stack of pages gets taller and taller, blooming from a neat bud of paper to an overgrown shrub. Felix resorts to dusty books most of the time, but Marinette seems to always have a fresh metaphor ready to pluck from the garden of her imagination.

She peeks up at him with those bluebell eyes, sparkling with mirth. “Geraniums mean friendship, I think.” She plucks the pencil from behind his ear. Flustered, he leans over her shoulder in growing concern.

“Wh… no it doesn’t! I looked it up, see?” He jabs at the page. “It means stupidity. Or, fow-ley. Like a mistake, I think.” 

The shocked, hurt expression on her face makes him think he might have made a fow-ley of his own.

“Felix! You… you think geraniums are a mistake?”

Here’s the thing: he definitely doesn’t. 

Here’s the other thing: four different kids have shoved Felix in the hallways when Marinette is with someone else, making fun of him for his made up language and the time he spends looking things up for Marinette and the way he only smiles for her. They’re watching him now, or they’ll find out eventually, and Felix is suddenly in too deep to take it back. Words are flying from his mouth before he ever registers what they are, and by the time he does, he doesn’t know how to take them back or smooth them over. 

“...yeah. I do. Friendships are like butterflies, or flowers: they die in three days.” 

“Is… that what you really think?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” He knows he’s said the right things when all four of his bullies nod slowly, respectfully. Her heartbreak is plain across her face, and they can’t see it, but Felix can’t escape. He wonders if they would relent at her expression, and then swallows down doubt like bitter regret.

Marinette’s hurt solidifies into furious calmness. “I guess our three days are up, then.” 

It seems easiest to let her walk away. 

The flowers she gave him wither by the end of the week, and he thinks it’s fitting. He doesn’t replace them.

[imaginesmai]

Chris Evans-NSFW Alphabet

Requested by anon, hope you like it!

Warnings: smut, but I don’t even know why I bother anymore.

Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sweet.

There isn’t a part of Chris that isn’t sweet. Even after the first time you had sex (honestly, it was more a one-time thing when it happened), he hug you close for a while before you left.

Once you’re in a relationship, you discover that Chris is a touchy person. He loves to go to sleep after a few rounds of sex, when you are both painting, red-faded and with your hair wild. While he’s still inside you, he likes to nuzzle his head against your neck and pester your face with butterfly kisses, until you laugh and try to pull him away. If you fuck in any other place that isn’t the bed, or at night, he will still hold you for a little bit.

Aftercare is always funny with him. He tries to take your panties with him, fool you into another round by kissing you and pulling you closer, and make you giggle by tickling you. But the best thing for sure is the smile. Chris always gives you the same smile when you finish, looking at you as if you had hung up the moon and the stars on the sky.

If you’re in bed, he props up with his elbow and cups your cheek. Words aren’t needed, and Chris manages to make you feel the most beautiful woman with just his smile.

Body Part (their/your favourite body part)

Your neck, there is no doubt for him.

For one, he loves neck kissing. It doesn’t matter if he’s the one receiving them or giving. Sometimes, when you’re working, he surprises you by kissing your neck softly. It doesn’t have to be in a sexual manner, but he just loves to pull your hair aside and kiss the soft skin there.

When you sleep, he usually finds its place there. He isn’t ashamed to say that he’s the small spoon. Sometimes he holds you, but mostly when you cuddle it’s him laying in your chest with his nose buried in your neck, beard tickling. When he’s sitting in the couch watching TV he likes having you on top and resting his chin on your shoulder; even if it’s the last game of his favourite team.

And then, well, we could say his hands gravitate to your throat. He tries to cover it the first time with cupping your cheek or brushing your hair, or even gripping it; anything to cover that he wants to wrap his hand around your throat. But once he does it, he can’t stop.

Chris likes having you laying on bed, face up, while he pounds into you. His hand will brush your breast until arriving to your neck; never applying pressure, not even in a dominant way. Just watching you, face clouded by your orgasm, his thumb parting your lips away, can make him see the stars.

Cum (anything to do with cum… I’m a disgusting person)

At the beginning of the relationship, Chris didn’t show any preferences in where to come. He usually wore a condom and finished inside; and when you sucked him off, he always asked if you were comfortable with swallowing, because he didn’t really care about it.

Then, one day you were drunk, in a hurry and horny as fuck. Scott and his sisters were outside the restaurant, and after a week-long vacation with them, you managed to sneak off to the restaurant’s bathroom together. He didn’t have time to foreplay; Chris just bundled your dress up your hips and pulled your panties aside while devouring your neck. In the rush of the moment, you didn’t think about not having condom until he was seated inside you.

You were ready to complain but he moaned. It was a mix between a moan, whine and cry, the most beautiful sound Chris had made since you had known him. Actually, if you had to say, it felt wonderful, but you had always been scared about the consequences. That night Chris erased all of them away by fucking you senseless against the bathroom door.

Since that moment, Chris’ little secret came out. He turns out to have really big breeding kink, and his skin rise when he’s wrapped around you. He loves feeling your walls fluttering around him when he comes, and the feeling of you milking every and each drop of his cum.

Most of the times, he stays inside for a bit, enjoying the after waves of the orgasm, and more than once he has fallen asleep inside.

And if we want to talk dirty, well; he is dirty. When he pulls out, Chris likes to stay close and watch the remains of cum slipping out of your cunt, and push it back with his fingers until you shudder in overstimulation. That probably ends in a second round.

Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s always hard, and he can be a little embarrassed about it. It’s really, really easy to get him up, because everything you do or say can have him on his knees. There isn’t a special kink that he enjoys the most, mostly when it comes to dom and sub. You have tried both and he enjoys them at equals, so it’s up to you.

It doesn’t matter what you want to do in bed, because he’s up for anything. Most mornings, you find him grinding against you half asleep, with a boner that could be even painful. You have seen him groping himself while making breakfast; for no reason, just because you were in the same room.

And even if it’s embarrassing as hell for him, you find it just too unresistable. Just imagine; hot summer morning, Chris sitting on the couch as you wake up, and his hand down his pants, touching himself absentmindedly and biting his lip. If he can hear you since the moment you wake up and does it just for the sake of morning sex, no one has to know.

Experience (how experienced they are? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Chris is not very experienced, and most of the times sex is holding hands with clumsiness. But he tries his best.

It’s common for him not to measure his strength or his enthusiasm; and more than once, you had ended up in the doctor office with a very sad Chris, waiting for your turn. Bruises, bite marks that sometimes bleed, and small wounds on your intimal parts. He’s always sorry after that, and dissolve himself in apologies and tears; seeing you hurt because of him is a huge, huge turn off, and not only he has to stop immediately, but won’t touch you in that way probably for the rest of the day.

Good part about being unexperienced, is that you get to try things for the first time together. For instance, the first time you went to a sex shop together. Chris had you hanging from his arm, hands over your arm and looking at everything with wide and curious eyes. The dependant thought you two were just messing around when Chris took one of the belt’s dick and put it around his forehead, hitting your face with it. You got kicked out and had to search for another one.

Sex with Chris is, of course, always an adventure.

Favourite Position (probably incudes a visual)

He’s in a bit of tie between cowgirl, missionary, and just fucking you from behind while he grips your throat and breathes in your ear.

Cowgirl, because he loves to see in you in all your glory bouncing up and down on his lap. Chris wants to memorize every last detail of your face, and his hands flight up always to your breasts, or hips. Or ass; anything to help you bounce up and down. For him, there isn’t a lovelier sight in the world than your breaking apart above him with his name spilling from your lips, and you bouncing on his dick, than you grinding down against his pelvis, to the point where his fingers bore into the flesh of your hips. He evens comes with his eyes open so he can still watch you.

Missionary because, having you under him makes him feel capable of embracing you forever and keep you there. Loves your nails on his back, your legs draped around his hips and watching as his dick sinks inside you, spilling himself inside of you and waiting until the possibility of a kid can be real.

And fucking you from behind, well. After explaining the whole neck deal, it’s worth to say that he loves having one hand torturing your clit while the other keeps you in place by the throat. Against the wall, in bed or in the shower. If he can, he loves a quick that way.

Goofy (are they more serious/humorous?)

Anyone that knows Chris, knows that he’s unbelievably awkward and clumsy when it comes to some things; like, for example, meeting pretty girls. He can talk all he wants on interviews about marriage, kids and a future, but when it comes to getting the girl, his palms sweat and his speech is stuttered.

Then, he met you. Gorgeous girl who actually wanted to talk to him, and his mouth actually fell open from afar, stunned – but when he realized you looked a bit freaked out by his reaction, he managed to stop before it got too weird.

Now, knowing this, Chris says the weirdest things during sex. It doesn’t matter if you have been a couple for a lot of years; he sometimes gets nervous when you’re having sex, and ends up saying something weird. You laugh to avoid further awkwardness, and he laughs because of you. And, I mean, we have all heard his laugh; it’s a matter of seconds before you’re both laughing your asses off on the ground, hands trying to keep Chris’ hand off your chest.

There is no inch of seriousness in Chris’ sex.

Hair (groomed or not, does the carpet match the drapes…)

Somehow, Chris got the word that you liked groomed boys. It wasn’t even true; you hadn’t said anything about it. But his brother had wanted to mess up with him and had convinced Chris that you hated when boys had any hair down there. So, before you had sex one day, Chris excitedly ran to the bathroom and shaved everything. Everything.

It was on a whim and subsequently wasn’t a bad idea, because he felt more confident because of it when he was naked around you; but it was horrendous. The razor burn hurt like a bitch, he got various cuts along his shaft and almost cried when he got one really deep on his balls. Then, he kept scratching himself in public for a good two weeks, while the hair grew back.

After a talk about misunderstand and not listening to his brother ever again, you convinced him not to shave anymore; because it was uncomfortable for him, and because it wasn’t worthy of his whining.

Chris isn’t even that hairy, only a bit of dark blonde curls that he trims sometimes with your help. And that he has grown to love, as the rest of his body, thanks to your acceptance.

Intimacy (what are they like in the moment?)

Chris is so intimate with you, he sometimes finds himself tearing up when you two make love. Slow and meaningful, and full of languid kisses and love, is how he likes it. The feeling of warmth and heat pressing up against each other. It sounds really fucking cheesy, and you’ve told him that – but he can’t help it. Of course, he loves some rough moments with you, that includes you riding him until overstimulation and him chocking you for a bit.

But his favourite sex is when he’s placing soft kisses on your forehead and neck, biting and licking gently at the smooth flesh as your hot skin moves up and down his. His eyebrows furrow together and tilt upwards when he looks at you, eyes wide as he thrusts into you.

When he does this, you can’t help but to feel the same way.

Jack Off (masturbation head canon) & Kinks (one or more kinks)

There is one kink in particular that Chris can’t rub off; no matter how hard he tries.

As an actor, he spends a lot of time away from home. Before meeting you, he used to miss his family terribly, and his friend back at home. Home-food made, his pyjamas, and game nights with his siblings. Now, what he misses more is you. Chris is the type of person who spends at least twenty minutes in the airport hugging their loved ones, and most of the times the flight leaves late because of him. There are lot of tears, promises and hand holding. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about, that Chris is a fairly modern guy, and knows that there are those things called nudes, and sex tapes, that makes a lover’s life easier through the distance. He’s not afraid to say that, when you’re not around and he feels incredibly horny, he watches porn to get off; and doesn’t see it as a problem in the relationship, if you do it.

However, then he discovered sex tapes. Videos of you two having sex that made him rush through the work day just to be in the loneliness of his room and play it. After a scare that could have been a disaster, where a video almost leaked, you dropped the sex tapes and walked to the next level; nudes. Pictures from different angles with little to no clothes that are shared in your chat, when needed the most.

Then, the incident with his mom and one of his nudes, while she was scrolling down his phone, made you walk into the best solution. Chris proposed face timing you while he was just out of the shower, and after a heartful talk about how much you missed each other, the thing got steamy.

Since then, Chris loves to watch you masturbate while he’s away. He loves to pretend it’s him who is touching you, that your hand in his, and that the vibrator he bought you is his dick, painfully hard on his grasp.

Masturbation is not a taboo for Chris. It’s a huge turn on watching your masturbate and moan his name when your kilometres away, and he can’t help but to jack off to those sounds. Even if you’re in the same room, sometimes Chris would ask you to touch yourself before fucking you.

Location (favourite place to do it)

Anywhere you have complete privacy. He has tried public sex, or semi-public, with you on a few occasions, but he doesn’t quite catch the lust on it. When you’re in his house, with his parents downstairs, you have to stifle the noises that threaten to pierce the silence, and have his mom on your room with a scowl ready. His brother always manages to hear you and tease him about it later.

But when you and Chris are able to spend a whole weekend alone?

This man will do anything and everything to make you moan, whine or shout, because those noises are nothing short of music to his ears, and he won’t stop until your voice is hoarse. He loves that he’s the one making you feel good, that he’s free to make as many sounds as he likes, and that you can feel every inch of pleasure without any barrier.

Motivation (what turns them on the most)

You.

You’re Chris’ turn on, and his bigger motivation to have sex (I think I said it before). The way you laugh, the way you wear your, or his, clothes around the house, just doing chores but looking so damn sexy and hot. The way your writhe in joy and snort underneath him as he tickles you. Your body, the helpless shines and moans you make as he hits that spot.

That’s the best porn world can offer him.

NO (something they wouldn’t do)

Actually, there aren’t many things Chris wouldn’t do. Everything that works under your consent is good to him, and every kink you have or want to try is up too. He loves and is a big fan of experimentation things with you, from toys to positions. As to, there isn’t anything that Chris says no to.

Oral (preference in giving/receiving)

As much as he loves to receive (the mere thought of you, on your knees, working his trousers open with nimble fingers, those lips parting to take his dick into his mouth is enough to get him har as steel), Chris prefers giving.

And, even if he isn’t that experienced, he’s a master with the tongue.

Legs over his shoulders, his hands flatten over your hips and ping you to the wall or bed, so he can take his time bringing you to the edge. Over, and over again. He’ll never get tired of your taste flooding his tongue, and he can spends however long you can stand between your legs, lapping at your lips and toying with your clit up and down.

The only way Chris stops is if you ask him to. When it reaches that point when your voice is nothing more than a hoarse, choked whine from stifling your moans and whimpers, so you tug at his hair with trembling fingers, unable to hold back a last moan at the sight of his beard coated with your click, plump and pink lips glistening.

If it was up to him, he could seriously do that all day and all night, and he would not complain, enjoying every second of it.

Pace (fast and rough/slow and sensual)

Depending on what mood he is in, and even if it’s true that he loves to go slow and make love to you, sometimes Chris loves to go a little bit rougher on you. He can be either both fast and rough, or slow and sensual.

Chris is fast and rough when you ask him to, when you’re in a hurry or when you have had a fight and you’re clearly having make up sex. He tends to leave bruises on your shoulders, neck and jawline, or even wrists. His thrusting is rough and deep, and he fast talk really filthy things into your ear, while chocking you a bit; not tight enough for you not to breath. After, he always apologies and even shares a few tears if it’s after an argument, hugging you closer to his body and pressing soft kisses to the top of your head, cheeks, shoulders and neck.

Most of the times, however, he is slow and sensual. Chris loves to take his time with you, to enjoy every reaction he can milk from your face. He is slow and sensual every time you’re away for more than one month, when it’s an special occasion, he’s in an special good mood or has time to spare. His thrust are deep too, but slow and caring, and he’s affectionate in his kisses and touches. He likes then to hold your hand and tell you how much he loves you, opening the drawer of feeling and letting everything pour out.

Quickies (how fond they are of quickies)

Most of the times, quickies are rough. He loves to pin you against the wall, position himself behind and fuck you while making your knees go weak. Slow and caring sex is his favourite time of making love, but he’s always up for a quickie.

Chris likes having his time pleasuring you, but he would never decline one when he’s on the airport line waiting to go, or just before having dinner with the family.

Risk (do they like to experiment?)

This shouldn’t be a question after reading the previous ones.

Chris doesn’t turn off any offer, even if it’s using wax on bed, toying with his nipples or buying one of those benches that make people hang from the ceiling. The public kink is his least favourite one, so in that aspect Chris doesn’t like to take risks. Because he doesn’t like to think about photos of you naked on the press; and the same goes with the nudes or sex tapes. He doesn’t like enjoying the relationship he has with you with other people; but apart from that, Chris loves to try new things with you, both on him and you.

Stamina (how long do they last)

Chris doesn’t last as long as he would like, since most of the times he’s already hard by the time you start to mess around. His hands are everywhere and try to touch as much skin as he can; much like an excited puppy.  You try to assure him that it’s okay and you don’t mind, as he takes his time with you even after being worn out, always making sure you come at least as many times he has.

Toy (do they like them or own some?)

I mean, just read the parts above and you can get an idea. On him, on you, for the both of you, he doesn’t care; he loves them.

One of his favourite is the nipple clamps. Every now and then he asks you to get your nipple pierces, because once he saw them on a girl and fell in love with the sigh. It doesn’t matter if you do it or not, because he takes it to the next step. He appears on the bedroom with nipple clamps, and before you can agree or not on putting them on, he asks you to try them on him. Turns out, he has pretty sensible nipples, that make his shudder in pleasure as you play with them and the nipple clamps.

Ball gags are another part of his collection. You bought one as a joke, but Chris loved it so much that now he has a small drawer with ball gags of different colours, shapes and textures that he uses with you whenever you feel like it.

Then, the cuffs. He only has one, red and blue, that you bought because of Captain America. He likes watching you with your hands tied, but part of him always feel bad; for the bruises after being used, and for not feeling your hands on his back or hair when he’s invested in your body. They are not his favourite toy by far, but he uses them sometimes to make you tie him in bed, or to chain you to the shower while he pounds into you.

And finally, his favourite toy, the buzzers. Those small, circular vibrator that he presses against your clit and that make you squirt. He can spend easily thirty minutes running it up and down your body, from your upper lips, to your nipples, sides, bellybutton and clit. He toys with the intensity, with the pression and with the places he press it on. Sometimes, when you’re not around and you make video-calls, he runs it up and down his shaft, while listening to your moans, and that puts him over the edge in seconds.

Unfair (how much of a tease)

Chris knows he is a tease, though he tries to deny it and act all innocent, or ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? I’m not doing anything!’ (even if he has been groping himself all morning, or undressing you with his eyes the whole night). Truth is, Chris is the biggest tease in the relationship. He loves to teas you, and watch you writhe and quiver under his touch.

After months of pleading from his part, he has bought you a special panties that vibrate when he press the button; and he loves watching you wearing them through the day and ravaging you that night. His favourite place to tease you is when he’s working and you’re on the coach, trying to watch a film or do some work. Hearing your breath catch suddenly, makes him leave his work and carry you to bed.

Sometimes, in public, he will place his hand on your thigh and move it up, slipping his hand into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your core as you try to stop the moans; even though he loves it, he prefers to just take you to the bathroom.

And, before sex, he’s the biggest tease. Chris adores to spend his time admiring you while leaving hickeys on your thighs and inner, paying attention to your breasts and neck and praising you for how beautiful and good you are.

Just because he teases you doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to be teased; he loves when you bring him to the brink of the orgasm for a few times, only to come strongly after a few times.

Volume (how loud they are)

It’s no lie that Chris is a pretty expressive guy.

When he first told you he loved you, he started tearing up, letting tears fall from his blue eyes because the confession was so genuine. And that one summer night when he told you he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you – full sobs rocked his body, just of happiness.

So, you can only begin to imagine what he looks like and sounds like during good sex. He makes the hottest faces and the hottest noises, too. It starts with little whines and hums, then escalates into loud moans and momentary yelps once he reaches and stutters out to his end. You’re lucky if you have no neighbours knocking on your door.

Besides, he loves to be vocal. He praises you all the time, from how you tighten around him to how your breasts move when you ride him. It’s like he can’t keep anything that comes into his mind inside.

And, yes, that includes weird facts. Like grocery list, a part of the script or the name of his mum.

Wild Card (random headcanon)

We’ve talked about Chris’ hand gripping your throat, a huge turn on for him that he cannot resist.  The thing is, there is still other hand; and it’s not laying dead on his side.

Chris loves to sneak his hand forward, until it’s resting just above your belly, and stroke the skin there. When you caught him doing it for the first time, you really thought he was going nuts; because it was three a.m., in the bathroom of the Oscars, and he was just caressing your belly after giving you one of the strongest orgasm of your life.

You didn’t say anything, until you caught him doing the same a few more times. It’s always after you have sex, and it happens for a few seconds until he realizes what he’s doing and cracks a joke to divert the attention. What he says to you when you ask him leave you speechless.

“I just… well, you know, I can’t help but imagine if this was the time? Maybe, I don’t know, maybe in a few months there could be a kid in there. I – I know it seems silly, but I just… love to imagine that, someday, when I put my hand in your belly, there will be a life inside. It helps me sleep, knowing I have a future with you.”

X-Ray (what’s going on down below)

Drool-worthy abs, outstanding fitness, mouth-watering biceps, perfect height and the perfect length that makes you squeal in pleasure.

Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a healthy, if not a bit high, sex drive, and enjoys having sex once or twice a week.

There are other things that he enjoys doing with you, like spending the whole day with Dodger playing or exploring some corner of the city. Maybe reading a book in silence, with your legs on his lap, or trying something new in the kitchen. Still, he loves the chance to make love to you before going to bed. If you’re too tired, he’s not the one to push it, and if there is a minimal chance for you to say no, he doesn’t say anything.

Nights when you two have to wake up early doesn’t count, because he prefers going to sleep early. Although you end up arriving wherever you have to be later, because morning sex is almost mandatory. Lazy, slow sex when he gets to look at you for a few seconds while you come down from your orgasm, and sleep; that makes his day, and probably needs it more than coffee.

Zzz (do they fall asleep after it)

He’s a man filled with energy, so when he finishes and you toppled off him with a strangled huff, he finds that it takes a few minutes to really calm down, where he just strokes your hair, touches your belly and watches you with in-love eyes, smiling.

Chris usually ends up falling asleep first. Tangling his legs with you, he sighs softly and pulls you closer, until his head is resting near your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso and, smiling sleepy, wishes you a good night.

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