#that's what free trials are for yall

[chintzwife]

the amount of media i have consumed in one week of being sick . . . . i am horrifying myself thinking about it

[birchtreecat]

so yall know that writing site where if you stop typing for more than a few seconds it deletes everything? yeah i decided in my sleepy ass state to write adarumi bc good god. the yuri is so doomed. anywho here it is. anything unpolished or not making sense I blame on the fact this was a 30 min frantic write <3 disclaimer of these characters are not mine but @vh-intern and @the-outlet-kohane-pharmacy !!! ____________________________________________

Rumi was a major in medicine. Ironic, considering where she was now, helping Moon with the pharmacy. She had gotten into medicine to help people- and she knew she had wanted to help someone- but who? Could she really be helping people, when these trial medications hurt so much?

Then Ada came along. Cheery, ever energetic Ada. She had started her own branch of the Vitamin Kohane pharmacies, technically making their businesses rivals. Yet, the moment Ada had walked in, Rumi fell. There wasn't even a pining phase- they met, they skipped being friends, and immediately swept eachother off. Ada had been the one consistent good thing, the one person Rumi wholly, fully trusted.

And now Ada was on the verge of death. Whoever hurt her still hadn't been discovered, but Rumi didn't care about that yet. She had just come back after weeks of being in this weird, coma induced state. Technically, Rumi shouldn't even be able to do this, overpower the screaming voices that took control of her body, her words. They say love conquers all, but she didn't think it was this strong. The thought made the sight of Ada barely breathing that much more painful. What twisted god, if they even existed, played with their lives like this?

The voices in Rumi's head wouldn't shut up. They were constantly yelling, bickering like children. Only one seemed to be even slightly friendly- and even then.. Rumi hated how loud the voices were. How they spoke of her as if she wasn't even there, how they made it so she couldn't remember anything. Yet the moment the news came, there was only one thing on her mind.

Ada.

I need you to live.

I just got you back

I'm sorry

Ada.

Ada.

Ada.

She had to hold herself back from sobbing even as her girlfriend seemed to try to communicate in her otherwise unresponsive state. The way the metallic clinks from her wound filled Rumi with a longing to make it all better, an urge to give anything if only just to see Ada alive one last time. She'd even go through hell and back, go through Moon pilling her again just to see Ada smile at her.

Truly, it was an oddly funny feeling of despair that overpowered everything else. The way she wanted to laugh at the fact that now both of them had faced death in the eyes. Would she have survived without the thought of Ada? The agonizing pain, followed by silence and tears as the voices barged into her head, shattering all serenity she'd come to know. The one thing that had kept Rumi going was Ada. How she couldn't bring herself to give up on her love. The way they held eachother every chance they got, the way she smelled and how her hugs were tight and soft and warm and felt like home. In another world, would they have died together? Would they find eachother again and again? Or would they only get this one chance, this one universe- that constantly seemed to push one of them twoards death at every turn. Had Rumi died in the backrooms of Moon's pharmacy, would she still feel this gaping hole of dread in her chest? The sense that it was all over, that there was nothing left for her but misery now? Would the voices still be crying and mocking her in her head? Or would she at least be free to welcome her girlfriend into the heavens with open arms, free from the voices that have tortured her for two weeks now?

Even as everyone left, Rumi stayed. She had control for now, and she was going to spend the entirety of it by Ada's side, just in case. She didn't trust the medicine of the Pharmacity anyways- if her experience was anything to go by.

As Rumi knelt by Ada's bedside, she didn't care if her knees would be sore after hours like this. She didn't care if she wound up getting sick from whatever was oozing from Ada's wound. All she cared about was making sure her girlfriend was alive- and that she'd know Rumi had been by her side for as long as she could have been. The same way Ada had left voicemail after voicemail checking up on Rumi, she'd now do the same for Ada. She didn't care how long it would take, they WILL survive this. Together. They had to.

Ada had to live.

What else would be worth it?

The silence of the room was getting overbearing. Rumi thought for a moment before tapping her dreams onto Ada's palm. The beach date they'd always yearned for, how she wouldn't be able to swim and Ada would probably convince her to get in the water anyways. The video games they had planned to play together, building and fighting side by side, story by story. Their apartment, filled with fairy lights and soft blankets among their studies. She felt her tears come, and this time she let them fall. Gods, what was she going to do without her? How would she bounce back without her sun?

[minhosimthings]

A study in Tea || I.N (18+)

Synopsis: An innocent date to a tea shop takes a wild turn when you and Jeongin stumble upon aphrodisiacs.

Pairings: bf!Jeongin × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, p in v, rough sex, oral (f), fingering, roughdom!Jeongin, spanking, hair pulling, thigh riding, needy reader, USE OF APHRODISIAC, jeongin being a hot little shit

A/N: not gonna say anything yall enjoy the porn

"Oh look at that one!" You excitedly pointed out a light blue sachet of tea, placed high and proper on a pedestal. Beneath it was a plaque which read 'Butterfly Pea Flower'. 

"Doesn't this turn pink when you add orange juice or something?" Jeongin eyed the tiny tea flakes in the sample cup wearily, as if it would hop out and attack him at any moment. You rolled your eyes at his utmost ignorance. 

"I think you mean lemon juice." You corrected him in a matter-of-fact voice, "Ugh just leave me in this place forever!" You bounced up and down on your heel, excitedly looking at all the colourful sachets of teas, coffees and chocolates surrounding you. 

Cute, Jeongin thought. 

"Am I going to be spending money on dried leaves all day?" Jeongin peered at yet another sachet suspiciously, to which you rolled your eyes, and pointed towards your handbag. 

"I have my own money, you know?" You chuckled, going back to skipping through the aisles to find something you like. But Jeongin shook his head. 

"Now what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let the love of my life spend money huh?" He said, placing his hand on his chest as if the mere thought of you spending money was nothing short of a scandalous affair. 

"Ooh let's look there." You said, completely ignoring him as soon as your eye caught a magnificent section filled with different hues of pinks and reds. Your boyfriend complied, letting you drag him wherever you wanted.

After all, he was the one who had suggested going to ‘that aesthetic shop’ three blocks down as a date in the first place.

Jeongin admired you while you happily moved through the vast ocean of bold reds and calm maroons, each shade getting inkier as you moved along to the end of the tea section. A soft smile appeared on his face everytime you excitedly pointed at a sachet of tea, rambling for a minute about everything you knew about the fragrant tea leaves sitting in the free trial cup. To any stranger, he would have looked like a madman, going insane out of his love for you.

You, on the other hand, were immersed in reading the titles of each different tea. A mischievous smirk (which your beloved didn't notice), appeared on your face as you reached some of the darker magenta packets. They were outlined in a different kind of font than the other. They were bolder, more tantalising, and to simply put it—sexier. But that smirk was also combined with an involuntary blush, one that Jeongin, with his sharp, fox-like eyes, noticed immediately. 

“Now which non-existent man here just made my baby blush hm?” He inched closer to you, placing his nose close to your neck, inhaling your scent, “I’ll fight him with my bare hands.”

“Chivalry exists after all.” You giggled, when you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist as if they were magnets which had been torn away from their iron. Goosebumps erupted on your skin, when Jeongin pressed a particularly wet kiss on the curve of your neck, sucking on it with his plump lips. You were thankful that not a lot of people were in the shop and the employees were on the other side of the store.

“Innie.” You said in a waning tone, hoping it concealed your shaky voice, by god did he make you melt into his hands with a single kiss, “We are in public.”

“And?” Jeongin questioned, teasing your waist with his moving fingers painting invisible murals, “Didn't really stop you from staring at those—what were they called?” He glanced over your shoulder at the teas, “Love potions.”

You felt your cheeks burn, not out of embarrassment, but from the way Jeongin spoke in that alluringly low voice of his, bringing it down a few octaves just to send ripples through your body. He had you trapped in his arms as well, his lips free to attack your neck like a starved man lusting for food.

“How about—” You felt his grip loosen (only slightly), “—we test these out at home hm?”

==============================

“Don’t drink it yet!” You slapped Jeongin’s hand away from the steaming cup of tea, “The instructions say we need to wait for five minutes for—” You stopped in the middle of your words, taking a breath before speaking, “—for the effect to fully register.”

“Oh the effect will register alright.” Jeongin smirked, his dimple appearing on his face, “But what should we do while we’re waiting hm?” 

“You really wanna ruin the magical adventure of drinking this, don’t you?” You bit your lip, eyes flickering down to his swollen ones (the parking lot was an amazing place for a messy makeout). Jeongin scrunched his nose, making you chuckle.

“I’ve never even heard of these things.” Jeongin glanced down at the mugs filled with lilac-coloured liquid, “Aphrodisiacs huh?” He chuckled darkly, “Shame that we didnt know about it before, imagine all the fun we could have had.” Jeongin noticed your awkward smile and the way you avoided his eyes. He raised his brow at you.

“Don’t tell me you knew.” He groaned on seeing your smile widen, “And you seriously never told me?”

“Well would you look at that, it's been five minutes.” You said quickly, grabbing the mugs and shoving one of them in Jeongin’s hand, “Cheers!” You clinked your mug with his.

Jeongin smirked into his cup before lifting it to his lips, pretending to pour it down his throat. He eyed you from a corner, silently musing over the way you were forcing yourself to drink it. It must have tasted horrible, a fact which he used as an opportunity.

“Fuck—i can’t drink the rest.” He said, loud enough for you to hear it. He proceeded to walk over to the sink and dump the entire tea in, making it look like he had only drunk half. 

“Me neither.” He heard you groan, following in his footsteps and dumping only  a little amount of tea into the sink. You wiped your mouth with the back of our hand, sticking out your tongue in a disgusted manner.

“We did not just waste our money on that horrible thing.” You said, “I need sugar right now.’

“Woah, hold on.” Jeongin grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Didn't the instructions say it wouldn't work if you ate anything after drinking it?” 

“Welp.” you shrugged your shoulders in defeat, “Guess we have to wait then.” you turned around to face the counter and your eyes landed on the ripped packet of tea laying on the granite surface. ‘Effective in less than a second!’ was written in front in cream, coloured italic letters, to complement the magenta colour of the packaging. 

What a scam, you thought, wondering why you weren't immediately feeling the urge to go ham crazy on Jeongin right in the middle of the kitchen.

 If only you knew what would happen later.

============================================

“Ugh fucking hell....” You said, rubbing your forehead with your fingers, did the living room always smell so much like Jeongin’s cologne?

“You okay babe?” He asked, looking up from the book he was reading. He had noticed you constantly bringing your hand up to your head, in an attempt to soothe your nerves. Was this a side effect of the tea? Jeongin wondered. You were sitting only a few inches from him, with your feet slightly touching his.

“Why do you smell so good right now?” You asked him, albeit you had to admit that you were technically asking yourself that. Jeongin chuckled darkly, and put his book down on the table, crawling over to you on the sofa. His arms automatically wrapped around your waist.

“You sure you’re alright baby?” He asked again, this time inching his face closer to yours, “Do you wanna get to bed–”

Jeongin’s sentence faded into a groan, the sound deep and raw, and before you could pull away from your sudden attack on his lips, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips crashing against yours with a carnal hunger. You felt the heat too, the urgency that was beginning to rise between you so suddenly. 

You felt his tongue caressing the inside of your mouth, tracing the shape of your teeth, stroking your own tongue, coaxing it to move with his. A soft moan escapes you when the kiss becomes more intense, Jeongin's slender tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth and dominating the kiss, arousal pooling between your thighs while your mind fogs with lust, the feeling of his hands burning into your skin as you think you're going to go mad with desire. 

The aphrodisiac worked after all, a small voice at the back of your head said. You felt your head grow light from the lack of air, but still, you were locked in the kiss, unable to pull away, unable to do anything but respond to him.

“c’mere, baby,” he murmured, voice heavy with arousal. You shifted forward, practically climbing onto his lap, pulling a groan from deep within him. Your entire body moved on its own accord, as if you had come alive for the first time; your mouth worked against his and you circled your hips against his and you were consumed entirely by him. 

He kissed back more firmly this time. His fingers dug into your hip and you sighed into his mouth in response. He took this as a good sign, moving his hand around to palm at your ass.

He gives an experimental roll of his thigh, and the friction against your clothed core draws a sharp gasp from your lips. The sensation is maddening, just enough to stoke the fire that’s been smoldering inside you, but not nearly enough to satisfy.

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention eased up on your lips and began a slow trek towards your collar bone, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the low lying neckline of your oversized shirt, which covered your thighs. Jeongin’s fingers reached below the shirt, hitching it up to your bustline, and ghosting over the skin there,

As if you had unconsciously understood him, you raised your arms up to give him better access. Jeongin smirked as he pulled your shirt off the top of your head in one swift motion, leaving you in your bra and panties. 

His hands eagerly travelling across the exposed skin you just revealed, fingers dancing across your lower abdomen before reaching your lower back and up, swiftly unclasping your bra and pulling it off while your lips meet his passionately, both of you smiling into it to start with.

You gasped at his touch, your hands moving in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. Jeongin’s eyes darkened at the sight of your perked up nipples.

“So fucking needy for me.” he mumbles, a hand coming around to let you wrap your arms around him. As soon as your weight falls on his thigh again, your mouth falls agape, and your forehead falls on his shoulder. Your breathing gets heavier, softly rubbing your lower half on his thigh.

“You alright baby?” Jeongin asked, his hand coming up to rub your back, his leg muscle unintentionally flexing under you. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden stimulation. Though you had ridden him multiple times before, this one felt so much more different. So much more ravenous.

You continued to move on his thigh, finally finding the spot, your clit rubbing against his thigh. Jeongin’s eyes continued to eye you up and down, lingering for a long time at the sight of your naked breasts bouncing up and down rhythmically.

 “Such a good girl, you're such a good angel,” He said, now feeling the strain on his grey sweats.

The heat off of him felt so nice. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. Your bare chest pressed against him. You slowly caressed the skin on his back. Turning your head up, he turned his gaze down and your eyes met. A moment savoured just before you leaned in and you kissed. You lingered before you both pulled back just slightly.

His thigh rubbed your cunt just right, making the right amount of friction. You buck your hips to grind against him, moaning out. “Ngh…fuck..” You grasp at his shoulders and grind harder, your shame got thrown out the window. You were dripping on his pants at this point, your stomach forming a burning knot. 

"Innie," you groan when he cups your breasts, squeezing firmly but not too hard, his fingers grazing over your nipples and pulling on them softly, dragging more sinful noises out of you. "I need you," You sigh out, lolling your head back as he toys with your boobs shamelessly with his long, sleek fingers, smirking against your skin at the feeling of your hips grinding against him harder, needing to ease the incessant throb between your legs, the intolerable heat that only he could help you with.

“Please, please, need your fingers,” you pant like you’re in heat. The tea was working its wonders on you, which Jeongin was highly pleased to see.

Like mercy from God, his middle finger leaves through your folds. It simply strokes up and down for a little while, focusing fleetingly on your sensitive nub before tracing around your entrance, making you whimper desperately. You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, when you felt his cold fingers against your wet folds. 

"So wet for me, honey?" His rhetorical questions were turning you on even more. His dominance knew no bounds and so did his fingers, that were gently rubbing your labia. Everything around you started fading away, the only thing you could focus on was Jeongin and his fingers on your pussy. 

You lost yourself when he slowly inserted his finger inside, finally making you moan properly (just the way he liked it) and burying your face into Jeongin’s clavicles, desperate arms scratching at his back.

 “Oh you like that don't you?” He grinned, watching your poorly hidden scrunched face as he felt your throbbing arousal. You started seeing stars even so your eyes were tightly closed. Wet juicy sounds wafted through the living room and for a moment, you forgot where you are or what your name is. 

Jeongin’s curling inside you picked up the pace, his hot breaths turned into chuckling, as he felt your clenching around him. You let out a loud moan, your chest was moving rapidly, as you tried to catch your breath.

 But Jeongin wouldn't let you have your fun. And soon enough his fingers had left your panting pussy faster than you could comprehend anything.

“Innie!” You cried, edging towards him, with a shocked expression on your face, “Why would you—”

He didn't let you complete your sentence properly, choosing to make you fade it into a pleasured scream, when his hand collided with your rear with a loud smack, jolting you forward slightly. You whimper at the pain but find oddly that there’s a sensation. You find yourself moaning softly, and now magically laying on your stomach.

Thwack, thwack, thwack. He delivers a few more. With each one, the feeling is more pleasant, your skin tingling under his ministrations. He takes a moment, gently rubbing up and down your back, almost like he’s soothing you. He feels you rising and falling with your sharp breaths under his hand. You’re mortified at how much you’re liking this. Perhaps it was because of the tea.

“Dirty little slut.” he taunts, smacking you once more, eliciting a guttural groan from you, “Who’d have thought that my sweet baby would love this so much?” Jeongin’s warm breath on your ear tickles you. 

He shifts slightly and then chuckles deeper, noticing a dark wet patch on your underwear. “You’re really liking this,” his hand settles between your cheeks, rubbing at your clothed heat. You whimper and arch your back. “You’re soaking darling,” he coos. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re a whimpering mess,” he moves his hand up to pull down your underwear, it peels slowly away from your core, the cool air hitting your wetness and making you shiver. 

Jeongin grips your hips tightly and shifts your position to lay on your back, the soft material of the sofa providing a sort of comfort to your skin, which was already bruised by the multiple kisses that had escaped from your boyfriend's mouth. You watch as he takes off his shirt and pulls down his trousers, exposing his hard cock, dying to burst out of his boxers. Jeongin's cock is oozing with precum, and you can see the dampness spreading on his boxers as he slowly takes them off, coming to rest between your legs. You hook one leg each over either shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him.

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit. A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

“That feel good, baby?” He murmurs, making you whine in response.

“Yes, i-it feels real-really good!” You choked out as his tongue began burrowing into your core, sliding in and out with a wet sound that set your nerve endings on fire.

 “Oh, my God, Jeongin!” You cry as you feel the tension in your belly tighten, your thighs tremble warningly, and he grabs firmly onto your thighs so he can make them squeeze his head to lock himself in place.

 “Fuck, yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs around his head as your back arches from the pleasure of your release. Jeongin laps sloppily at your folds, drinking your sweet nectar greedily, refusing to stop until you’re begging him to quit. “Innie—I–ahhhh.” You sigh weakly, your body jolting with every languid stroke of his tongue.

Jeongin groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down his chin like a waterfall. 

You didn't really notice the way Jeongin’s eyes trailed darkly up your body, or the way he lapped up the arousal he had collected on his chin from your heavenly pussy. You didn't notice, until he was laying on top of you, his naked body sprawled out in a magnificent display. You practically drooled.

“Poor baby.” Jeongin cooed at you, cupping your cheek with his hand and leaning forward to place a kiss to your nose, “Do you need my cock, darling?”

You knew he was taunting you, mocking you even, for being so needy for him, but you didn't mind, how could you? When the delicious tip of his naked cock was teasing your throbbing labia so much. You couldn't even say anything, choosing to remain silent and enjoy his teasing.

“Come on now.” Jeongin urged you, smirking, “Be a good girl for me,” He lowered his hips so that his cock was an inch deep in your cunt making you gasp loudly, “and beg for my cock.”

“Please Innie,” You whined, grabbing his bicep with your right hand and squeezing it, “Please–need you so bad.” 

That was all it took for his massive cock to completely split you open. Jeongin thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it.

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, he uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“S-shit it’s like you’re fucking choking my cock” he grunts out, looking at the slight bulge in your lower stomach. The sight is enough to make him cum right then and there. You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust. 

Jeongin doesn't give you any adjustment time, his thrusts are hard and quick, his one hand moves to your head, he grabs a fist full of your hair and puts your head back making your arch your back. He smirks at you like he was testing a theory and he was right about it. He lets go over your hair and moves to your neck. Your eyes widen as he pushes harder and harder against your neck.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the sofa. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him. 

“I’ve got you–fuckkk.” he soothes and moans his pleasure out simultaneously, fucking you at an impossible pace. This hedonistic feeling was heaven on earth. 

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Jeongin, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sofa's material, burying your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the sofa, you mewl at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goood—” The sentence doesn’t even fully come out from your mouth.

He's so deep inside you, your legs are shaking. He doesn't stop though, instead of his regular thrusts he does small ones so he can stay buried inside you.  He stays like that for a while just slowly fucking you, you start to get annoyed, you want more. More of him. 

"Baby, please." 

"What do you want, princess?" He looks at your drooping eyes. 

"Harder please harder." Jeongin chuckles at your pathetic words.

 "Fuck" You say breathless as he begins rubbing and thrusting into you once more. Jeongin bites and kisses your ear and your neck. You hold in your moans but can't help the few squeals and whimpers that escape your lips. He whispers the filthiest words known to mankind in your ear, you can't take all the pleasure it's too much.

 "I can't"  You say but it's barely audible.

 "Yes you can baby." Jeongin whispers "Just one more time." He kisses your cheek. You close your eyes tight, your body shakes, your head is fuzzy. "That's a good girl." He praises. "Look at you, cumming for me. Such a good girl." You open your mouth but you can't make a sound.

 You cum, hard. 

His massive cock and immeasurably hard thrusts were all too much. You came undone with a loud cry, clenching around him as his fingers worked over your clit. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave and your thighs shook, gripping at the headboard as his breath hitched and he came too, fucking you through it, leaning heavily over your back. You felt your vision turn hazy and gave a moan as you felt him spill inside you, moving your hips what little bit you could into his jagged thrusts, eating up every breathless sound he made by your ear. He pushed into you a couple more times before halting, breathing like a bull behind your head.

His lips peck yours once more before pressing a loving kiss to your temple, his body rolling next to you. You stay like that for a while, sounds of heavy panting filing the air. Your mind racked inside its skull and your eyes started feeling heavy as pure exhaustion hit you like a truck.

You felt Jeongin’s gentle touch pull you closer to him, turning you on your side so that you were more comfortable in his arms. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he waited until you were fully asleep before slowly removing his arms from your body and sneaking into the kitchen, with hastily worn pants.

Jeongin chuckled at the sound of your loud snores, which could be heard even from the kitchen, before he reached into the shopping bag, filled with goodies from the tea shop. Smiling to himself, he collected all the dark maroon packets and quietly tucked them into a cabinet, to keep them absolutely safe and sound.

(And absolutely hidden from you.)

Taglist: @jiyeonslays @gimmeurtummy @hpnsfwaddict @yasuraokaa @sweatyracoon

[running-with-kn1ves]

Can you make something for a yandere masochist? Smut please

A/N: Working on all the reqs in my inbox, I just don't have much time to write! No pressure but donations always help if yall want your requests written faster!

CW: Noncon/Dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, threats, Sub! Masochistic yandere, aggressive-ish reader, NSFW

Synopsis: You find yourself kidnapped by your shy boyfriend who claims he's going to "take care of you."

Word Count: 3000 -- Tags ^^: @moonlight-melanin

If someone had told you that your meek nerd of a boyfriend would be the one to ever kidnap you, you probably would have laughed in their face. Your boyfriend who trips over every sidewalk crack? Your boyfriend who needs your help opening a water bottle? Your boyfriend, who begs for you to wrap your hand around his neck and worships the ground you walk on, no matter how hard you protest?

 No way in hell. 

Except, the utter blasphemy that was such an idea, was true. It was only a few nights ago that you found yourself bound by your hands and feet to a familiar bed. Your boyfriend, Rex, vaguely explained that he was "protecting you", and "keeping you away from bad people!” 

You came to the conclusion that the harm that he was supposedly protecting you from, was most likely your overly friendly coworkers and demanding job. Who knew a 9 to 5 could be so dangerous? Clearly your boyfriend. However, his ridiculous behavior didn’t falter no matter how many times you tried to convince him, no matter how many threats or bribes you threw his way. 

Sometimes he’d be nearly swayed, but something in his mind always snapped back, telling you that its alright if you despise him, if you follow out with your threats; as long, as he got to keep you safe. 

For how obedient and eager to please he was, you never realized how stubborn he could be. But unfortunately for what he had in stubbornness, he lacked in wit and authority. He always fell into your hands when it came to you offering physical affection as a secretive ploy to try and escape; not to mention, he wasn’t very good at keeping his hostages tied up.

By the third night of your capture, you managed to slip your moist hands out of the loose, steel handcuffs. Digging an old pen into the large hole of the chain cuff wrapped around your ankle, you wiggled it around to find that sweet spot that would release you. You were grateful for being able to reach the bedside drawer, finding a multitude of tools within it that helped you including the pen that was once yours, and some lotion that made your palms slick enough to slip out of the handcuffs. While you were grateful for their presence nearby, you didn’t want to know why they were close to the bed in the first place. 

You continued to roughly wiggle the pen, not hearing any clicks or cracks within the lock that would signify your release. The chain around your ankle wouldn't budge at all. At some point along the way with all your jamming of it into the lock’s hole, the pen got stuck. 

“No no no,” You whispered, trying to tug the pen out. You pulled as hard as you could, to no avail as ink began to stain your fingers. 

Well, your kidnapper would certainly notice that. 

You looked around, feeling incredibly anxious now that you were only halfway free, aware that it'd be unlikely that you got to keep this little escape trial to yourself. Though, the freedom of your hands made you feel more powerful than you had in days.

But the quick and excited footsteps outside of the bedroom door made your stomach sink. They drew closer, only stopping to fill the silence with a rapid knock to the door. Beads of sweat rolled down your neck as your dry mouth swallowed; with shaking fingers, you covered up your hands and feet under the bed comforter. 

‘Just keep them under the blanket, and he won’t notice…’

The door opened shortly after the knock, not waiting for you to respond. In came your Rex, your boyfriend-slash-kidnapper. He clammed up with a tenseness as you scowled. You brought back your signature glare that you looked at him with during the days of your capture; he seemed to shrink into himself as you didn't break eye contact. 

"Did… you like dinner? He asked, looking at your plate on the bedside table. Eyeing the plate with a frown, Rex shut the door behind him. He walked closer to your place on the bed, inspecting the plate. 

"You've hardly eaten anything since…"

"Since you kidnapped me?"

He went silent. Avoiding your judgemental stare.

"You know I'm just trying to keep you safe…" He said meekly, not fond of your cold behavior. 

"I don't want to talk, Rex. Just leave." You snarl.

 Folding your arms you turn away and focus your attention on the setting sun outside the window, reminding you that once again you'll be here for another night… another day here when you wake up. 

Rex sits down on the bed next to you, his mop of curly black hair covering his desperate face. He wouldn't be able to take it if you played the silent treatment with him-- even when you were angry like this, he'd rather suffer your wrath than hear the empty silence of his endless thoughts, keeping your sweet lips shut so tightly. 

"Please," he gripped the blankets atop your legs, trying to find a place to touch you. "I'm just doing what a boyfriend should do, don’t you get that? Why can't you understand me?"

You continued to stay silent, hearing Rex gulp as he realized you were serious in keeping your mouth shut. 

He began to grow antsy… there was a feeling of isolation in how he couldn't see all of your face as you kept your gaze to the window, how he couldn't even hold your hand or see your body beneath the mass of blanket. 

"Come on, don’t be like that…” 

Rex rolled his tongue over his teeth, gripping harder onto the sheets. His hand shakes as it reaches for yours, desperately hoping you wouldn’t tug away. 

Once he feels your arm go limp, he wastes no time in bringing it up to his cheek, hoping to feel some sort of warmth from you. Rex presses his cheek into your fingers, finding a sliver of relief in how warm and tender you feel against him. He’s hardly had the luxury of such affection since you were huddled up in his apartment. 

You don’t dare to look at the man, debating whether interrupting him or continuing to let him nuzzle would alert him faster on the fact that your handcuffs were gone. 

You didn’t have much time to think when you suddenly felt him go still, a newfound grip on your hand. He squeezed with thick fingers, the lovelust gone from his touch.

You turn to look at Rex, finding that you could not see his eyes beneath his hair and shadowed glasses. He shifted from crushing your fingers to choking your wrist, panic setting into your body. 

Rex looked up, far more quiet than you were expecting. You began to twist your arm, trying to pull it away as he bore into you. You knew the guy was odd when you first started dating, and was clearly deranged after this kidnapping fiasco-- but you never saw it clearer until now. His eyes seemed to sink into his skin as his face drained of all color. He looked almost sick, like someone hungry to hurt without any remorse. Rex’s blunt nails dug into your skin as you started to tug away roughly; his hunched body was like a feral animal ready to strike. 

Seeing as he already found out about your escape attempt, you decided it wasn’t worth wasting this chance. Maybe you could knock him down a few before he managed to get you chained up again, giving you more time before he did who knows what. 

“These arms are awfully bare.” His monotonous voice uttered. 

Rex pressed on the bruises on your wrist of where the handcuffs dug into, his eyes glazing over as you grunted in pain. Still, you fought. You brought your other arm to try and pull off his fingers, only for Rex to shift on the bed and force himself upon you. His sharp knees dug into the sides of your thighs, pulling your other arm off of him as he laid them both beside your head, against the pillows. For being quite frail and shy, he had far more strength in his desperation than you expected. You could see that he was giving his all, only tearing up momentarily when your fingers scratch him or your elbow rams into his nose. 

Within the tussle Rex managed to find the handcuffs, of which you only hid underneath the blankets beside you. Every time you tried to heighten your knees to push him off, Rex pressed deeper, bruising your skin and making you bite your lip in frustration and pain. His loose clothes and your mess of blankets made it hard to find a grip in pushing him off.

Rex pulled the cuffs up, shakily and forcefully wrapping them upon your wrists. Pulling them over the bedpost, he watched as you struggled to get out of them. But he didn’t look down at you with a smirk or a sadistic grin-- Instead, it appeared to be relief. 

Your boyfriend lowered himself to your chest as he went limp, his previous expression void of emotion except for stunned shock, shifted to a tired, nervous frown. 

“I-I don’t do this because I want to, you know.” You burn holes into him with your glare, straining to pull the cuff chain over the bedpost as Rex sat on your torso. “You don’t give me a choice!”

His loose shirt showed the front of his collarbones and the elongated muscles in his neck, the male gulping as he looked guiltily down at your chest. You were sweating from the fear and strain against the tightened metal binds. 

“Fuck off.” You grunt, continuing to tug and pull away from your tethers. 

Rex seemed to get antsy at watching you try to struggle and claw at him. His hips twitched as he moved to sit on your legs, trying to keep you from kicking him off. 

“But…If you keep pulling like that, your bruises will only get worse.” 

“I don’t give a shit.” You snapped, hardly letting him finish. Spitting towards him you continued to fight; that only seemed to spur Rex on. 

He wiggled against your hips, looking down away from you in embarrassment. the male beginning to hold your knees down, his legs wrapped around your left thigh. 

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for us…” He huffed, laying his head down on your chest, and holding onto you. 

“Rex!” You shout angrily at his innaction, trying to knee him as you pushed away from the headboard. 

“I know, I know!” You could feel the hardness inbetween his legs press against your thigh. “You can hate me if you want, can hurt me if it makes you feel better,” He meekly bit his lip with a little grunt, hesitating for a moment before he pushed his hips against your thigh. “But I can’t let you leave.”

Seeing as your struggle didn’t impede his movements, Rex slowly rocked himself against you to apply pressure. He relished in how your knee came up to grace his crotch in a stinging pleasure. You may have done it in an attempt to push him off, but all it managed to do was further Rex’s desire for your brashness, and you.

“I’m yours…” He huffed, pushing his face into the warmth of your chest. His crotch aligned with your hip, adding a new sensation as he humped like a touch-starved, horny animal. “Im yours, I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m--ngh--” 

 Rex bit the collar of your shirt to stop from crying out, his moan muffled into your body as he rocked at a rhythm. In a mix of huffs he lifted his head to search for your eyes and lips. He reached up to collide his lips with yours, pressing his knee between your legs, spreading them just gently. His hands traveled down your chest slowly, hesitantly. He was always waiting for your next move, always soaking in every touch and taste of you that he could. 

You pushed against his lips, turning and ripping your mouth away. 

“I know you want to leave, but maybe I can change your mind,” He looked at you with lovestruck eyes, a growing pleasure within them. “Maybe make you feel good. I’m atleast good at that, right?” He shyly palmed at your crotch, determined and eager to make you cry out in the same desire he was swelling in. 

He just wanted your eyes to be on him. 

Rex continued to grind himself deeper into your upper thigh, wrapping his legs around your side. He released a little pant while traveling cold fingers down your chest, pulling up your shirt to expose your stomach. Reaching between your legs, he licked his lips in anticipation, cupping your sex with his hand ever so gently. 

Shutting his lips he tried to suppress his evident moans, pushing his lips against yours as he begged for an ounce of affection. You in turn, bit his bottom lip in retaliation, pressing up against to get a good clench on his mouth. You hoped it’d be enough to get him off of you, but instead Rex pressed harder, grunting in pained pleasure as he welcomed the ache. The taste of blood was left in your mouth, Rex still leaving sloppy kisses along your nipping lips, drooling as he pushed his slick tongue in your mouth, rubbing it against yours. His glasses seemed to shift downward, making him look even more of a mess.

Even as you pulled at his hair from your restraint position, Rex let out a surprised yelping groan, humping harder into your leg at the newfound pain. 

“Please, I promise to be good…” He begs between wet, one-sided kisses. “ I’ll do whatever you w…want…!” Rex hieghtened his voice with a desperate groan, showing he was close to his climax. 

His frenzied pleas showed the familiar side of the boyfriend you remembered before he kidnapped you: quiet, clingy, and too infatuated for his own good.

You could feel a wet spot of leaked pre-cum on your thigh, Rex’s hand delving under your now unbuttoned pants. 

He was quick to palm your crotch from beneath your underwear, gripping and massaging as he chased his own high, fixated on your scrunched up expression. 

His slightly open mouth drooled against your shirt as he looked up at you, desperate for you to reciprocate some kind of affection or attention. 

Rex’s expression showed he was completely enamored in the moment, with glazed over eyes and a eagerness in his thrusts as his mind solely focused on the pleasure between his weak thighs and getting something-- anything, from you. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say bitterly, grabbing Rex’s hair in another attempt to get him off of you and ruin his high. However, that did neither. 

Rex looked even more turned on, letting out painful moans at feeling you tug multiple times.

“Yes.. hah, please-- use me, do what you want--” You bit down on his shoulder as he pressed the rest of his weight down on you, leaning up to the feeling of your fingers tug. “I love you, ‘love you so much..” 

You demand him to look at you with a tug of his black curls, a small line of blood staining your lips from the hard bite you gave. 

Rex obeyed with pleasure-drunken fervor, drawing the end of his high as he witnessed his blood in your mouth. 

A part of him would always be inside you.

Rex buried his head into your neck as he orgasmed, thrusting hard up against your leg like a rabbit during mating season. Letting out a continuation of unabashed moans, his teeth bit your T-shirt as cum spilled from his release. 

In the moment, Rex had sped up his movements in pleasuring you, digging beneath your underwear to feel the heat of your sex against his hand, leaving you quite dazed yourself, You managed to hid your reaction quite well as Rex was too focused to notice, but now that seemed to shift as he began to relax. 

Rex’s pulsing touch on your crotch slowled as his breathing regulated. Though it became more difficult for you to keep your mouth shut and your face straight as he repeatedly put his thumb against the right set of nerves. 

Your boyfriend’s breath steadied as he watched you release a hitched sigh from your mouth, enjoying the way you looked at him with a dazed glare. Covered in sweat and cum, he was beginning to come down from the high he ached to feel once again. 

“Oh…I’m sorry,” He panted, face flushed and glasses falling to the tip of his nose. “ Was s’pposed to be convincing you, but I got ahead of myself…”

Rex swallowed, adjusting his glasses with the tips of his finger. The male began to quickly fondle beneath your jeans once again, ignoring how you still pushed against the headboard and cried out in frustration. He was slow at first, trying to regain the rhythm; it didn’t take long for him to find that tempo that made your knees weak. 

You felt a numbed pleasure stir between your thighs against your will, trying to toss and turn to make it go away. 

But Rex held you still, planting his weight down on your chest and stroking your heat with skill. He had touched himself so many times to pictures and thoughts of you, but he never imagined this. Even as you scrunched up your face in frustration and annoyance, he saw your teeth scrape at your lip, your hips twitching and your groans drawing out longer than before. 

You desperately clawed at your restraints, avoiding Rex’s hot and heavy stare, of which was so entranced in watching your sweet face change every time a wave of pleasure overcame you. You felt so defeated in the fact that he could tell you were feeling the effects of his touch, how you weren’t completely focused on the idea of escape anymore. 

“M’gonna make you feel so good,” Rex grinned, hazed with the afterglow of his pleasureful release and soaking up the look of undesired arousal in your eyes. 

“Just promise not to give your pleasure, your pain, to anyone else…”

[jammydodger3579]

Mary Jane Mindset

Summary: Wade and Logan get stoned together.

A/N: this was requested on discord, so hopefully yall like it. Haven't written for Wade before so enjoy. Sorry it's short lol. Patreon here

18+ for mature audiences only

700+ word count.

Warnings: drug use, swearing

“No, absolutely not” 

“Come on, just once... It’s a rite of passage!”

“I’ve done it before and I didn’t like it” Logan looked at the bong in front of him. It was disgusting, bright pink and covered in my little pony stickers. He looked at Wade, who was smiling like a schoolgirl. “Didn’t even work, healing factor and all”

“Not this strain, I grew it myself. From a wee baby plant. I call it “Bruce Banner” cause it’s big, mean and green. Could probably get him stoned too. God knows he needs it” 

“Have you even cleaned this thing?” He picked up the bong, looking at it questioningly. Wade shook his head. 

“Not even once. Keeps the good stuff in” Logan sighed, placing it back down on the coffee table. Wade walked into the kitchen and looked around in a drawer for a bit before walking back to the couch. He chucked some rolling papers at Logan. “Here, is that better?” Wade said, looking at the man. Logan nodded. 

“Okay fine, just this once” Logan said, caving into Wade’s antics. Wade giggled and clapped his hands together. Logan had been living with Wade for the past three weeks, and they seemed to get along enough. Logan mostly tolerated him, especially since he was staying with Wade and Blind Al for free. Wade got out his rolling tray and started grinding up the flower. Logan scoffed, Wade’s whole set-up was pink and purple, and his grinder was the shape of a cinnamon roll. “Cute” 

“You know you love it. Yukio got it for me” “I’m sure she did” Logan handed the rolling papers over to Wade. He started rolling the joint, struggling a little. 

“We’re gonna need water, snacks and something to watch” Wade handed the tv remote to Logan. He flicked through the movie options before settling on one called The Room. “You picked the worst movie in the world!” 

“Not my problem” Logan said with a smirk. He got up and went to the kitchen. He got a bag of pretzels, chocolate biscuits and two glasses of water for himself and Wade. He placed everything down on the coffee table before resuming his seat next to Wade, who’s just finished rolling a joint. He put it between his lips and lit the end of it, puffing out the smoke. He took another puff before handing it to Logan, intentionally blowing smoke in his face. 

“Puff puff pass,” Wade said. Logan nodded, taking the joint. He took a drag, letting the smoke sit in his lungs for a while before exhaling. It had an earthy aftertaste. He did it again before handing the joint back to Wade. The two kept exchanging the joint as they watched the movie. Logan lifted his hand to point something out on the TV.

“Whoa, what the fuck” His whole arm felt like jelly as it was suspended in the air. Wade smiled, exhaling smoke through his nose. 

“You’re cooked” he laughed, looking at Logan. His eyes were bloodshot. Logan sat back on the couch. 

“Whoa, I feel like I’m sinking,” he said, shifting in his seat. Wade finished the joint off, putting it out in an ashtray. He was smiling, watching as Logan adjusts to being properly stoned for the first time. Logan looked around the room, his vision felt colourful. Everything seemed more vibrant and pretty. He looked at the man sitting next to him, face full of fondness. “How long is this gonna last?” 

“At least an hour, maybe longer. It’s trial by fire” Wade shrugged, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. “Man, I could nap right now” 

“Don’t fall asleep, tell me something interesting” 

“Okay well, have I ever told you about all the trolls movies?” Wade said, blinking to keep his eyes open. For the next half hour, Logan gave his full attention to Wade, listening intently. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved listening to Wade ramble on about something he found interesting. “OH oh oh!! This is my favourite part!” Wade said pointing at the TV. “I did not hit her. It’s not true. It’s bullshit! I did not hit her, I did not! Oh hi, Mark” Wade quoted, doing the accent and everything. Logan smiled at the impression.

“I see why this is the worst movie,” he said, laughing. He didn’t want to admit he was having fun, but his actions gave it away. Wade smiled. 

“Look at you, enjoying yourself. I need to get you stoned more often” 

“Let's not make a habit of it” Logan said in a gruff voice, but he smiled afterwards. He grabbed the bag of pretzels and started eating. Food felt even more delicious than usual.

“There are other drugs we can try” 

“Absolutely not” 

[flightyalrighty]

" People aren't gonna support you if you have this kind of attitude! " while also completely ignoring the annoying and downright disrespectful anonymous ask Flighty gets has GOT to be the most tonedeaf shit I've heard in a while.

Like yall know this right here is what makes artist quit, right? This kinda behavior makes artist say " fuck it " and leave. Also I want everyone to know Flighty could pay wall every single infested page, have reblogs of pages taken down and comic dubs erased, then tell us " no more free trial fuckos pay up " and I'd genuinely cheer.

I absolutely appreciate you, you've got the spirit, but

I cannot actually legally paywall my fan comic, no. Which is why I paywall my creative process instead!

Mark my words though, once I'm done with Infested and its sequel, I'm gonna make some awesome original comics that people can like, idk, purchase the PDF of. And physicals.

[mournings-stars]

all i've ever known, again

the fifth and final part to IF IT’S TRUE / the orpheus and eurydice fic :))

so i kind of lied to yall... cus pt. 4 was the last part of the prelude and i had a final last part already started LOL so heres kind of (very much up to you whether it is or isn't) an alternate ending to this greek tragedy-inspired story also thanks to this request: “a happy ending or continue the story like what happened after the reader failed to bring Lucifer back ect.” from @smnthvxe that gave me the idea to change it from a direct continuation to an semi-alt happy ending… i think yall will like this alt ending more than a canon-aligned continuation :)

includes: all that other stuff but fluff this time i promise….

tags: @lxkeee @viannasthings @majonla @sapphirecaelis

part one | part two | part three | part four

When he fell, you didn’t come to the trial. You couldn’t. You didn’t tell anyone about his indiscretions. You let everyone think you were still happily as close as you were, wishing it’d been more — that you had, did, and said more. You stayed in the house you shared, went on with your days as you had been, and slept in the same bed because you had trouble sleeping when he wasn’t there. 

But you didn’t speak. 

He’d try, and he didn’t go back to Earth for some time, but each time you tried, your throat tightened and you had to stop before you said something that would make both of you feel worse. You couldn’t look at him without expecting him to confess more of what he did, more of how he showed her things that were so special to you. You didn’t want to know what else happened, if he kissed her, slept with her, it’d only make things worse. But he told you he never did. He told you he comforted her, and she comforted him, and that was all. 

He tried giving you replicas of flowers when you accepted what he told you, but they didn’t mean the same as they did before, and the moment you took them, they began to wilt. “I’m sorry,” you’d try to say as he looked at the flowers in defeat, but nothing came out. He brushed it off, pretending it didn’t sting and offered to show you what he’d been working on, but you didn’t want to be the one he showed his pride to when there was no one else to go to. 

“I’ll never see her again,” he promised, his last attempt to fix what he’d done.  

“It’s okay,” was the most you said to him in weeks, but he wished he didn’t hear it. He wished he wasn’t hearing you tell him to be happy without you again. 

But he knew now; all of his doubtful thoughts, after he ruined everything, were true. He’d made them so. 

Yet, you still protected him. 

Until the very end, you protected him for years until you couldn’t without falling with him. Years, and you didn’t tell anyone. Years, and you started staying in your old home, alone. Years, and when rumors spiraled, he helped her flee from The Garden. 

Years, and he understood what your relationship had truly been as he began to spend years with Lilith. 

Years, and when you didn’t show, everyone knew the truth. 

He didn’t even try to fight falling. 

Then, it was months. You didn’t see Lucifer on the promenade, or in your garden. You didn’t even see him coming back from Earth. You hadn’t spoken in years, but you saw each other everyday, and you noticed quickly when you didn’t. 

No one told you he fell. No one told you he stood trial. All of Heaven was keeping you in the dark until you went to Sera. 

“Free will? You banished him for free will?!” You yelled at her, and she let you, having expected this reaction. 

“He was also unfaithful,” she said simply.

“We weren’t married.” She shook her head. “We were hardly together — Sera, you can’t do this—“

“You spent centuries together. Nearly a millennium, do not dilute that kind of love to excuse his sin.” Eyes appeared all across her being. She was more angry for you than you had ever been, and she wanted you to lose faith in him. Just as she had. 

“We spent that time together, yes, we lived together. We slept in the same bed, had meals together, held each other… But most of the kisses we shared were on the cheek, or hand. It’s not what you think—“

“Don’t do this, Humility,” she scoffed, “I won’t listen to you lie for him—“

“It’s true! Sera, please, listen to me. Free will can be good! We can root out the evil in humanity and send it down to this Hell you spoke about. Humans will understand right from wrong — they won’t just resort to evil without knowing that’s what it is. Let him explain, I’m sure he had the best intentions—“

“Intent means nothing when this is what happens!” You quieted at her stern voice and full angelic form, heavenly voice echoing off the walls. “You cannot fix this—“

“You have to let me try.” And again, years later, she watched you in defeat in front of her. First, you cried to her over what you were losing on Earth, and now what you lost because of it. Except this time, you didn’t blame the humans. “Please,” you begged, making her resolve soften as she saw the shine in your eyes. “Let me try, so I can show him I’d do the same for him, as he’d do for me.”

“What are you talking about…?” Her angelic form settled as she frowned at you. “Surely, you don’t blame yourself—“

“No.” You shook your head. “When the Earth began to change, and everything felt so bleak, he was there to help me back into the light with the garden.”

“What garden? Eden?” You shook your head again and she was even more confused. “Perhaps you could show me?” She got up, walked over, and put a soothing hand on your back. 

You were consumed in a golden wave of magic, transporting you to the garden you came to everyday. You blinked your glassy eyes at her, gesturing to the garden and the animals that came to you and hoping that would be enough to convince her. 

“I’ve never seen this place before,” she said, frowning, but soaking in the beautiful environment. “It must’ve been created by an angel…” She trailed off, understanding what Lucifer had done. “Humility…” 

Your tears fell in shock, wide-eyed realization coming to your face as you looked around. It all felt so familiar, so close to home. You thought it was because it reminded you of Earth before it changed, but there was a reason it helped you feel connected again; every flower you ever said you missed, every animal you ever treasured or showed to him, even the pond that two ducks circled. He recreated it all. 

You shook your head, looking down at your hands as a cloud of golden dust created a beautiful lily in them. The very same flower you shut him out for. Looking at it now, it was one of the most beautiful flowers you’d ever created. Poisonous or not, it stood out as something you would have loved. 

Sera sighed, peering down at the lily you cradled as if it could take you back in time. She avoided your sad eyes as she looked over your face, pondering the idea that was lingering in her mind. Perhaps you would finally lose faith in him if she did it — perhaps, he would prove that he did care — perhaps… there were too many outcomes that could come from this. 

But she said it anyway. “I’ll give him a chance,” she told you, watching the way your wings lifted as you looked up at her. “If you fail, he will stay in Hell… forever, but I believe you can succeed.”

She told you her test, bringing you to the golden gates and creating the stairwell you would spend days walking down — days, where all hurt feelings washed away the moment you set eyes on him and he looked happy to see you. Days, where you realized he had a ring on his finger. 

You were too late, you thought. He would never come with you, you thought. 

But he did, and you pushed yourself to leave immediately, following every rule until you reached the golden gates of Heaven and stayed with your back to the stairs as you stood in front of them, thinking he hadn’t followed you. 

You took a deep breath before you turned, seeing Lucifer step onto the clouds and feeling your heart race when you realized you made it through Sera’s trial.

He was still, unsure of what he was at liberty to do now that you were back. The adrenaline of seeing you after so long, seeing you so ready to take him home, that allowed him to hold you like he did before, had gone the moment he stepped inside that stairwell and replaced itself with overwhelming doubt that the moment you were back, things would be how they were; doubt, that convinced him he'd already failed. Doubt that convinced him to prepare to see you cry for him again. Doubt that convinced him he'd have to say goodbye—

He didn’t even have time to process your arms going around him, but he recognized the warmth of your wings, secure and tight around him, feeling like home. 

And, God, did he miss it.

His head tucked into your shoulder as his arms hugged your waist, holding so tightly that you had to speak up. “Lucifer…” He held you tighter. You held him close, fingers threading into his hair to soothe him. “I’m not going anywhere—” And you felt his shoulders tense as you reassured him, harsh breath and wetness hitting the crook of your neck before he lifted his head. 

“Forgive me for this later,” he muttered, hand going to your cheek before he leaned in. He didn’t give you time to think before he kissed you, lips urging and eager as a bright, golden warmth washed over you. You could feel Lucifer’s hot tears on your skin as his lips persisted against yours, your hands going to his cheeks to run your thumbs beneath his eyes as you kissed him back. The moment your wings unwrapped from him, he muttered a weak, “no,” and reached his free hand behind you to gently guide your wings back around him as he pressed his lips to yours once again. 

For the brief moment you were apart, you caught a glimpse of a light above you. You pulled back. “Luci—“ His mouth was back on yours before you could finish, but he paused. 

“What did you call me?” He asked hopefully, but you didn’t repeat yourself. Instead, you told him to, “Look,” pointing just above his head. His halo had returned, glowing brighter than ever. 

The glow settled after a moment, Lucifer’s gold and blue, beautiful angelic appearance returning to him for a brief moment as Heaven’s golden gates opened. 

You stepped away from him and he knew the moment was past, fingers grazing his lips as Sera appeared in front of you. 

“Lucifer,” she spoke. “I see you made it back…” She looked between you, then paused when she saw his halo. “I suppose I should listen to you now.” She looked to you, nodding, and you gave Lucifer a gentle smile before flying off as they went in the opposite direction. 

“I didn’t think you would be able to do it,” Sera admitted after a long silence. Lucifer had been looking back at you, watching you leave in the direction of your garden. He looked at her when she spoke up. “I wouldn’t have.”

“If I was leading, I might’ve failed,” he said. “But I had something to prove.”

“And everything to lose, yes.” She nodded with a grimace, looking down at the ring on his finger. “I’m surprised you came.”

“What?” He frowned up at her, then followed her line of sight to the ring on his hand. “Oh…” Sera hummed as he lifted his hand, pulling the ring off. “It’s not what you think.” He handed her the ring and she inspected it, looking at the inscription on the inside of the band. 

Music notes were engraved in the golden ring, and Sera could hear the song in her mind. “I haven’t heard this song in a long time — the Song of Love, isn’t it?” She handed it back, watching him slip it back on his finger. “But before that, it was—“

“It’s Humility’s song,” he said. “I made it a long time ago — when the world stopped needing it to change the seasons,” he admitted, twirling it on his finger. As he did, melodic winds flowed past them and sang the very same song. He stopped, the winds settling. “And for these past years, I wore it so that I might be able to hear it again. Even down there.” Sera pursed her lips, not responding to the admission. “Sera,” he sighed, “I never did anything with Lilith—“ It was her turn to sigh, as she’d heard it before. It was the only thing he fought against in the trial. “—I know how it seems. I know my telling Humility was a confession to being unfaithful, but I never did anything with her, and in the years I had with her, we’ve been nothing but friends. There was a connection, I can admit that, but it was nothing in comparison—” 

Sera laughed, shaking her head. “You should’ve realized that sooner—“

“—and I never acted on it. That was when I told Humility, when I realized — After Lilith told me she loved me, and it meant something different than the love I have for Humility.” Sera quieted, letting him continue. “I can live with Humility never trusting me again — but, Sera, all I ask is that you believe I’m telling the truth.”

Sera was quiet for some time, stopping their walk as she stared at the ring on his finger; just like the lily, it was like it brought him back in time. 

“You should tell Humility,” she decided, her belief would rest on that. Whatever you decided. Lucifer was quick to turn the opposite way. “Lucifer,” she called and he turned. “It was my intention to protect you both, not to plant doubt.” He could hear your voice repeating her warning of abandonment, the hurt and vitriol having replayed in his mind for years. And it finally stopped now. 

“I know,” was all he said before he left, heading straight for your garden. 

He found you there, sitting in front of the pond with the two circling ducks. Lilies floated in the water and sprouted at the bank, vibrant, warning colors surrounding you as you watched the water. 

Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to speak, wishing he could immortalize the beautiful scene as twirled the ring on his finger. Winds blew gently, guiding you to turn your head toward him. You could hear the faint song, a smile coming to your face as he came and sat next to you. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. 

You shook your head. “Tell me tomorrow… Let’s just enjoy today.” You took a lily from the bank and carefully tucked it into his lapel. “It’s the first day of spring… Come to the Celebration tonight?” There hadn’t been one in years, and he knew it. You were asking him to spend the night with you, just as he’d done so many years ago. 

“I couldn’t miss it.” 

There was a long silence before he placed a zealous, maybe overly so, hand on your cheek. His thumb ran over your skin and he smiled faintly. “I missed you.” You placed your hand over his, turning to kiss the inside of his palm before taking his hand with both of yours. He pulled it gently to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. “So much.”

And you could feel it. You could feel the truth in his words, and you could feel that there was a truth you didn’t know, one that wasn’t what you dreaded years ago, one that compelled you to twist the ring on his finger and make that symphonic breeze begin to blow as you went to remind him…

But he spoke before you could, taking the opportunity to finally remedy what he’d done as he held your hands to his chest. “I know.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile.

[ind1c0lite]

(Basic context is that AU of Duel Desinties where the phantom impersonates Phoenix to get him found guilty of Clay's murder, I talk more under the cut abt it jkhlj)

-Basically meant to be a parallel to turnabout trump, cause if you can have ONE boss get found guilty of murder, why not a second one?

-OK basically: everything in DD happens normally until like- a day before clays murder, Phoenix gets yoinked by the phantom somehow (he is still alive, just being held captive), Phantom is still Fulbright, but they've decided to be silly goofy (target Phoenix and get him found guilty of murder, escape police custody and then murder phoenix and make it seem like Phoenix accidentally died while on the run, thats why they didn't kill phoenix right away unlike the real Fulbright) there is an imposter amo-

-I dont have the logistics as to how this affects solving Metis's murder, and how it effects what evidence is used n whatnot and turnabout for tomorrow as a whole, so im just going nuts HGJKHLJ

-Originally I was actually imagining this taking place during turnabout for tomorrow and I wanted that case to be apollo v klavier instead of phoenix and edgeworth and thats why klav is in here instead of Simon (I decided that Simon got badly injured and couldn't stand in court for the retrial, so klavier was asked to step in)

-The courtroom bombing still happens the same way it does normally, but Apollo decides to take up the case again instead of taking a leave, instead of like, you know, healing from the traumatic event that just happened, turnabout countdown still happens as well

-Apollo and Athena do not find out about the phantom's existence until well after this trial, so they have no idea that Phoenix could've possibly been replaced, though simon, after hearing about the trial, might be suspicious about whether or not that was the real Phoenix

-The Phantom had been not only keeping an eye on Simon for a while, but was also stalking Phoenix and Edgeworth after they both started looking into UR-1, so they were able to impersonate phoenix so well that not even his own daughter thought that anything was up (though while Trucy did find him a *little* bit off, but she figured that it might've been the bombing that caused him to act ever so slightly weird, so she didn't pay much mind to it until she heard about his confession in court and realized it might've been because he possibly, ya know, killed someone)

-it's pretty much just switching Athena being framed for murder with Phoenix, and instead of the trial ending on a cliffhanger, it continues on (probably with Klavier insisting on it) ending with soloman being found innocent and Phoenix being declared guilty

-There's a couple days inbetween the end of the cosmic turnabout and the start of turnabout for tomorrow, so Athena, Apollo and Trucy all get a little bit to process the fact that "oh god my boss/my dad killed someone" (simons execution date is pushed back a bit in this au) and they probably get to talk with Klavier and eventually a lil bit with Simon after he gets out

-Im not sure how it all winds down in turnabout for tomorrow (Phoenix escaping and being at large is basically the perfect cover for the phantom to resume being fulbright for that trial) but they do eventually realize that the phoenix who confessed wasn't the real one and now there's a search on going to find out where the real one is being held captive, hes fineeee just ready to take a week long nap and a good vacation (along with every other waa member)

-I dont have anything else to add on rn but if you want to add something or just throw in a scenario feel free to!! this idea has been bouncing around my head for like a month now and Im very happy to finally show yall it

[rarepairdumpster]

Silco Jailed AU Part 1

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Canon Divergence, First Meeting, Distrust, Politics, Viktor watches trials to pick up men (A/N: This one plays fast and loose with canon but we trust yall to roll with it lol)

Silco turns himself in to protect Jinx and has a unfair trial, where all none of the context of his actions are taken into account, and he's sentenced to public execution as an assurance to the Piltovans and a lesson for the Zaunites.

Heimerdinger expresses a worry of creating a martyr, but he's overruled.

Jinx didn't blow up the council so Viktor, who watched the trial, just like he did Jayce's ends up sneaking down to where they're keeping Silco the night before his execution since Stillwater is too far away for sending a message like this.

When Viktor gets there, he sees what the guards have done to him.

How his hair has been shorn with such violence that he's bleeding from several places.

His fine clothes have been forcibly swapped for filth-stained rags.

Hints of bruises are visible through the tears in the fabric.

Yet somehow, despite the effort to rob him of his dignity, Silco manages to sit with his chin held high. There's a stubborn, angry pride in every line of his frame.

Because in the end, he is giving his life for his people, just like he always knew he would. It was just a matter of when and how. 

When he sees Viktor, Silco's mouth twists with a sneer.

Because he knows who this is.

The Zaunite that lined Piltover's pockets, who helped them leave Zaun further and further behind. The Zaunite that provided the tech to build the hammer that murdered Renni's son, and the gauntlets that almost oblitered the security guards.

The traitor.

"Silco," Viktor says, straightening himself up as much as he can with his crutch. "I am sorry that we never got the chance to meet until now."

"Me too." Silco tips his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He can't stomach looking at this traitor. But his voice is cold as ice. "I would have gutted you a long time ago."

"Perhaps," Viktor hums. "I presume you think I'm some sort of...oh what do you call it..."

"Bootlicker?" Silco gladly provides.

"Ah, yes," Viktor chuckles a little. "I can assure you though, my true loyalties lie far from reigning authority."

"Your assurances mean nothing." Silco does look at him then. Sharp. Full of rage. His blue eye is almost more terrifying than his red one. Just for a moment. "Your actions speak louder than words ever could."

Viktor holds up the keys to the cell. "Allow me to free you, and we can discuss some actions I've been wanting to take for a long time."

"Do you think I'm here by accident, boy?" Silco let's out a scoffing laugh and goes back to rest his head against the wall. "Every choice I make is calculated. If its atonement you seek.....destroy the hexgates. Burn the lab to the ground. The weapons. The plans. The materials. Make them feel its loss."

"Do you really think I can do that on my own?" Viktor asked, stepping closer to the bars, making sure his crutch made a sharp sound on the stone. 

"Do you think I enjoy having to bend to the council's every selfish whim? My research and work has been twisted and molded to everything they want." He grabs one of the bars with his hand that held his crutch. 

"Martyrdom is for those who have nothing left to contribute to the cause. If you truly want to see it burn as much as I do, then help me."

"What would you know of martyrdom, of the cause," Silco says coldly. "You were never part of it. You were never my brother. You fled the undercity as soon as something better came along. Chose to work for them. Knowing what they did. What they always do."

"Ah, so we've made it abundantly clear that we know nothing about each other," Viktor sneered. "If you don't want to help me, fine."

He turns away and sighs. "Dr. Reveck will likely make better use of my blueprints anyway."

'Blueprints' makes Silco straighten.

"Don't be a fool. Reveck has no interest in helping the undercity; he would turn on us all for his own ends."

Viktor notices the change in Silco's tone. He has to tread carefully. He allows himself a little smirk before turning back to Silco. 

"I'm afraid I don't have any other options," Viktor reminds him.

Silco's lips thin.

He knows he's been played.

"You're more cunning than I thought." 

"I know," Viktor answers, confident now that Silco is willing to listen. "You're not the only person who calculates. Did you think it was an accident that lead to me solving the question of hextech? That I was involved? No! Talis was going to kill himself. His work was going to be destroyed. I intervened. I saved the work. I solved the equations that he fumbled. Because I knew what it could do for our people. For Zaun!"

Viktor's face twists then.

"My only failing was believing in the goodness of Jayce Talis. But he proved me a fool."

Silco looks away.

"You should have known better than to trust a topsider. One from a house at that," Silco huffs, but his eyes soften slightly. He certainly understood putting trust in the wrong person.

"He was charismatic, hopeful." Viktor bows his head, rests his forehead against the bars. He sighs, tired.  His whole body hurts, a constant stabbing pain through spine and pelvis and leg. "He was full of idealism that I harbored myself. I failed to consider the larger house that held his leash. Failed to consider his compulsive need for praise, to...to please."

Silco huffs out of amusement. He definitely understood failing to account for that. 

"Fine, then," Silco finally says. "I assume you have a plan to get me out of here?"

"I can get us into Zaun," Viktor explains. "But I assume you still have contacts there."

Part 2

Arch + Woods

[yaasirambles]

non!idol haechan being your plug and your fwb at the same time, but you wanted to try another plug because you heard that they have different flavors so you went and you got a ‘free trial’ kind of thing. so haechan gets jealous and smokes it out with you and eats you out m, then demands you to suck him off because you ‘cheated on him’ 🫦

Nah stfu bc I smookkee 🤭 there's always that one cute plug who u flirt with for a discount but you'd let him hit on the low bc he fine asf. Haechan is that plug

So anyway. Haechan texts you because you didn't hit him up for your regular pick up that month or w.e. he's like "aye. You ok? You gonna do ur reg this month?" And you text him back "Well... don't be mad... but I picked up from a diff person. The homegirl put me on her plug. Just wanted to try sum new. Plus it was freeee"

And so he comes over bc you convince him to try whatever new strain you got. He rolls it up bc he knows you suck at rolling. And you're sitting there a Lil high. He can't deny whatever you got is good. His is better. But this is a Lil diff. It's making him dazed and putting him in a mood

He shakes it off at first. But your head is on his shoulder. Your hand aimlessly on his thigh. He makes a dumb comment like "that guy only gave it to you for free because you're so damn beautiful. You know that right?"

And you're like "so what?" And he says "he just wanted to fuck. Would you have let him? Hmm?" And he's looking down at you, you tilt your head up to look at him. You can't answer because you're high and all these thoughts of haechan come to your brain. You finally get out a "No..." and he smirks "but you'd let me? Right? Look at you. I know what's going on in this pretty little head" and he leans down to kiss you and he pushes you back into the couch, laying on top of you. Kissing down your chest and stomach. "Tell me if you want me to stop" and you shake your head "keep going"

He pulls down your slutty little comfy PJ shorts he knows you wore just for him. And he starts licking all slow. Flat tongued against your pussy until you start pushing his face down. He smirks again and goes INNNN. Sucking on your clit and probing you with his tongue. Enjoying your little squirms

When he's done he comes up to kiss you again. And you start rubbing his hard on. He laughs a bit and then says "I think I deserve an apology. You cheated on me with another plug. Getting your shit from someone else. What am I gonna do with you?" And you whimper out an "I'm sorry" and pout and he laughs again and then says "prove it" in a deeper tone "show me what that pretty mouth does hmm?" And suddenly he's laying on the couch and you're going down on him. Taking him in your mouth and he says "you wouldn't do this for anyone else huh? Just me. Show me how sorry you are"

This one got me. Sorry yall

[mbta-unofficial]

looking at the ROC site i don't see much push back on the mbta, mostly just letter after letter of support for the mbta to do what they want including regular price hikes. Meanwhile i've watched the mbta just get worse and worse over the years. Do any of yall even ride the bus? Or do yall just do this to have it on your resume?

[sadie-bug345]

the gang as classes i’m taking this year 🤓☝️

is this a way for me to flex my fucked schedule? yes.

ponyboy:

AP Lit

ARE WE SURPRISED

likeeeee this is pony to a T

we’re currently reading the crucible (my school starts HELLA early in the year)

and pony is surprisingly vibing w the salem witch trials

a good amount of homework for this class, but since the majority is reading pony’s got that down

he does get super bored when they’re just taking notes though like his imagination just runs free

johnny:

APUSH ?? 🧍‍♀️

uhhh this was one i don’t really think would fit johnny but i only have 6 classes and calling “lunch” a class is reserved for steve

honestly this class is super quiet except the table i sit at with my friends so i think if johnny was with the gang (PRETEND THEY ALL GO TO SCHOOL OKAY��) or at least ponyboy he’d have a good old time

lots and lots and lots of notes but johnny kinda likes just independent work like that ykwim

group projects with random people suck the SOUL OUTTA HIM

darry:

sports med 2 ⚽️🏀🏈⚾️🥎‼️

darry would love this class at first solely cause there’s the word “sports” in it

this class has like 15 people in it, most are kinda jerks but he gets through it

when it comes to helping out the athletic trainer on game days after school, darry is THERE and he’s PREPARED

years of momming around teenage boys has prepared him to….tape some random kids wrist i guess

dally:

anatomy and physiology 🧍‍♀️☝️

HEAR ME OUT

first of all, i’d love to study human anatomy w him any day of the week💀🥰🤭😏😼

SECOND OF ALL, i think bros psychopathic tendencies would come out during dissection labs /j

in all seriousness though i feel like he’d be totally fearless when doing those typa labs like everyone’s kinda grossed out and scared (irl we gotta dissect a RABBIT😭🫢) and dally’s just like

”idk what yall are on about, mannn🙄”

also it’s a notoriously easy class at my school so that’s up dally’s lane for sure

two-bit:

pre calc🫢

NOW HEAR ME OUT AGAIN

the only reason i say this is because this year we got a new teacher to teach my pre calc class and she’s from some eastern european country and has an accent just like Grus from despicable me😭😭😭and that class is SO QUIET

and that’s kinda where two shines like he’ll yell out so much random shit in that class and it’s so hilarious to…

pretty much only his friends 🧍‍♀️ but that’s kinda the fun part though

lots of homework but you’re delusional if you think two-bits gonna actually do that

soda:

photo 2

the majority of the time spent in this class is just messing around on your computer which soda loves

like bro will find the most outta pocket and weird stuff to photograph

but also he gets real artsy with it sometimes just cause he’s messing around

surprisingly it turns out super good sometimes

he’s the king in general of being just as shocked as anyone that hes succeeding as a whole

steve:

LUNCH

bro struggles through the entire day just for these 20 minutes istg

like bro endures so much in classes he doesn’t understand with people he doesn’t like just for those moments😭😭

honestly that’s me during seasonal depression winter

hes the type to stop everyone during lunch and just rant about all the weird shit that happened throughout that day

like he’s def the type to see someone get jumped or do something weird in class and think

”man i gotta tell the gang about this at lunch”

actually doesn’t mind school food…😭

OK IDRK WHAT THIS WAS THIS KINDA SUCKED BUT ANYWAYS MY INBOX IS OPEN BYEEEEE🥰🥰

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 10th Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

HEY!! YahOOOoooie!! Y’all! We made it to day 10! It is officially double digits now and 14 days left!! I’m so excited for all the prompts but sad that it’ll be ending soon!! This has been a truly awesome experience and I’m glad I joined in on the fun! Here is the invite post to see all the rules and regs and here are the prompts for the 10th day of Writemas!!! OOO and also thanks so much for the following everyone!! 50(almost 60 now) is literally insane! I appreciate y’all so much!! It has been such a fun time on here, I’m so glad I found a community to share my stuff with! Now i’ll stop gushing and let yall read lol

Prompts used:

Feeling: The calm of a smile

Setting: A (frozen) lake

Time for a character I haven’t even written for yet!! Oops! I tried to make it equal but the prompts just call for a certain character lol. THANKFULLY, today Nilus got picked for a change! I do like him actually. I swear. But uh a lot of interesting stuff you get with him are with other characters and I need to set everyone up first lmao. Eventually I’ll get to the point where I can have multiple of these guys in there. It’ll happen very soon (like in the coming days ;) ). Ramble aside, I'll let you go. Very young Nilus time!

Read about the WIP here!!

ENJOYYYYY <33333

------------------------------

The Bone-Binder had been put away for a little under a century, his presence almost becoming folklore at this point, and rightly so. The terror that he placed over Pytharios transformed into, simply put, stories of the past. The last Nilus had ever even heard the mention of his name was from his grandfather passing down the tale from his father’s account of the battlefields in Eastern Pytharios. Mostly everything to do with the evil man was put to rest. No one wanted to see it. Peace was achieved, forever. Why bother caring about the past anymore when it holds you back from the future?

Nilus sat on the shores of the now frozen lake. Beside him was his old friend, Innes, throwing rocks and watching them slide across the ice. It had been a week since their graduation from the academy. Ever since then, it felt free. Nothing felt better than knowing you finally passed your trials, especially when you had a close friend along on the ride with you. 

Innes lobbed one after another out of his reach to Nilus’ amazement. He sure did have a good arm. You would think Nilus wouldn’t be surprised by it anymore, but watching Innes throw was really something to be admired for. Nilus sighed as he laid his hands behind his head. This was the life. Layers of tyranny of their school placed over them faded as each rock launched out of the young boy’s hand. They couldn’t do anything like this back at the rigid academy, unless they wanted to be severely punished for going outside the premises and not displaying ‘gentlemanly’ behavior. A sense of stillness came over Nilus. Not a word had been spoken between the two for a long while, apart from the occasional brief acknowledgement of his throw by Innes.

“You ever think that he’s going to come back, Ni?” Innes suddenly broke the soothing silence, winding his arm back ready to throw another rock at a chunk of ice towards the distant horizon.

Nilus scrunched his face in confusion at his completely vague question, “Who are you talking about?” 

“You know, “ Innes smirked and lowered his voice to a whisper, “The Bone-Binder. Haven’t you heard anyone talk about 

Rolling his eyes at the absurdity, Nilus humored him, “Don’t be ignorant, you know that won’t happen. Read your history book, remember what he had to do?” 

“Yeah, I do know, thank you very much. He had to make a covenant to the Queen. Like a treaty of some kind. I actually did listen in history class.” He responded back, flinging the rock in his hand flying across the cold ice. 

“Exactly, he can’t return or he breaks it. It’s like a treaty in that regard. Such a simple thing to understand, Nes.”

Innes threw his arms up in the air, “Well you don’t have to flame me over it! I get it, I was just asking a question. Damn!” 

“You ask stupid questions you are going to get stupid answers. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”, Nilus laughed at his friend. 

“People don’t always follow the rules, idiot.”

Nilus stood up and made eye contact with his friend, noticing his friend’s smile, a twinge of calmness shot through him, exclaiming, “Oh, whatever. Let’s just move on, he’s not ever going to return and you know it. Now, give me one of those things. I’ll show you what I can do.”

------------------------------

(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

@thebookishkiwi @viridis-icithus @corinneglass

Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

[helluvapurf]

Was a random thing I had in my head when thinking of my first attempts at HB redesigns awhile back- (granted I didn't get that far beyond the royal Goetia family, buuut yknow lol)

I think part of whats keeping me from going ahead with other potential redesigns (esp for the main IMP crew), is that... idk how exactly to handle the "Full Moon deal" tbh? .w.;; I know its basically 'enmeshed' in Blitz & Stolas' story (so much that some could argue it'd be weird to take it away-)... but at the same time, idk its hard for me to imagine properly weaving it into the narrative without sending some weird messages to the audience (if they are an intended endgame ship & such-)

-Soooo, here's what I had in mind if I were to personally reimagine the Stol*itz arc (depending on which route I go with the Full Moon deal):

(If the Full Moon deal IS kept in-): -Blitz attempts to steal the grimoire, then after a drunk one-night stand, Stolas coerces him to partake in the "Full Moon deal" to avoid legal trouble (for both parties) -Blitz's company continues to grow in sales thanks to Stolas letting him keep the grimoire... yet more & more overtime he grows weary having to "please" this bird prince (refuses to open up to his employees about it however, to avoid being pitied/looked-down upon 'cause y'know... he's "the boss"-) -Things are basically standard up until the night of "Ozzie's", where Blitz finally has enough and basically tells Stolas off for his entitled creep behavior. -Stolas reflects on his actions up til that point, deciding to "let Blitz off the hook" from their typical meetup times afterwards. Blitz is more than happy to take that, ofc (albeit, confused... but happy, nonetheless-) -Eventually Stolas does decide to invite him back to his place (something Blitz is lowkey-dreading, but puts on a brave face for his teammates' livelihood)... only for him to present Blitz with the Asmodean crystal, essentially-freeing him of the Full Moon deal. -Stolas actually gives a genuine apology/remorse for how he treated Blitz, admitting that this whole thing was just some desperate distraction from his own personal woes at home. As much as Blitz wants to be thankful for this change of heart... he can't take it anymore once Stolas brings up potentially "starting over" (as if a mere gift of a crystal + apology is enough to fix things, basically-). The night ends as Blitz tells off Stolas & leaves his place... Stolas once more having to stand in silence, thinking of what went wrong... -By the time of the trial episode, neither Stolas or Blitz are on speaking terms; yet things escalate when Stolas gets put on trial for his mishandling of the grimoire (+his Goetia duties). As much as IMP try to step in and save him, Stolas holds them back as he finally admits to the world what he did to Blitz... earning him scorn across imp-kind + his royal status & powers stripped away. Blitz is left with conflicted feelings, now that he's being given proper support & praise by his teammates (+fellow imps) for facing what he did simply to keep up his business... yet at the same time, can't find it in him to ditch Stolas in his pitiful state... -He gives the former-prince a place to stay at for the night at Blitz's apartment; thanking him but keeping his distance in terms of "bonding" (not wanting a repeat of what happened, before). Eventually, Stolas would move out & have enough savings set-aside to get his own place... at that point feeling too guilty to approach Blitz anymore (but still wishes him luck on his endeavors). The rest of the narrative would be spent on Stolas finding his own independence/working on himself for the better, whilst IMP steadily goes back to what they do best... silly assassin shenanigans as one happy (founded) family~

(If the Full Moon deal is NOT kept in-): -Stolas & Blitz have a one night stand for the sake of Blitz stealing his grimoire; Stolas (having long-since grown "bored" of his typical Goetia duties) approaching him later to offer a chance at being a 'business benefactor'. Essentially, securing IMP more chances at assassination gigs/clients who'll pay big money to get their vengeance on whoever wronged them in the human world. -Throughout these ventures, Stolas would keep trying to hit on Blitz/offer a "repeat" of their one-night stand... which Blitz would swiftly reject each time (to varying comedic-levels). -Eventually the night of "Ozzie's" happens (this time is treated more like a date on Stolas' end... thinking his own "charm" attempts have paid off). With all that happens afterwards, Blitz gives him a firm dose of reality that they were never anything "special"... something that rattles Stolas as up to that point, he's never truly ever been told "no" like that (let alone by an imp)... -The rest of the narrative would follow fairly standardly as Stolas tries to work in more of a genuine friendship effort; paying extra on each IMP mission, sending friendly cards/gift offers, all of which Blitz keeps at a distance since he's still (understandably) upset at him. -At some point Stolas does still give him an Asmodean crystal (+genuinely apologizes)... but as one last peace offering now that he's (somewhat) got the hint Blitz ain't interested. The night most likely wouldn't end as dramatically as the other route... but perhaps more as a sign that maybe, just maybe, they can start over again as friends. -Potential bonus ep of both men gradually going back to speaking terms; with perhaps "Apology Tour" going more along the lines of Stolas encouraging Blitz to make things right with Verosika at her party (now framed as a simple Halloween party; no weird "anti-Blitz" theme attached-). Blitz is able to have a bigger chance at earning closure with his ex, and Stolas gets up to some silly party antics since he's usually so reclusive to himself. The night ends as Blitz seems to accept Stolas more as a friend now (& wishes him luck when the bird man gets a cute incubus dude's number lol). -The trial later on would focus more on Stolas being put on the spot for his misuse of the grimoire (even without any creepy coercion deal-attached). Blitz & IMP find a way to speak up for Stolas' defense yet are powerless to stop the court from stripping Stolas' status & powers. He & Blitz are working more on their friendship this time, yet eventually are able to reach a point of giving eachother their own space to grow/heal better.

[ep2nd]

What do you think about Macaque's 'redemption arc'?

Oooo, spicy topic

Alright, remember personal thoughts and not like a writing teacher here

So, I'll probably will also reference other redemption arcs so I'll try best to explain (Warning for Ninjago and Trollhunters, also Crystalized mentioned sorry yall I know it's a wound)

1. I like how Macaque didn't immediately go to the goodside, mostly. After s3 special, he kinda just disappeared, minding his own business. He didn't go out of his way to talk to Mk, Wukong, or the gang, which makes sense considering all he's done to them and what Wukongs done to him

2. I want to say Macaque helped MK go in the scroll because mostly to help MK, he saw how rough MK was going through, from a new form to how much pressure was on him, so he probably wanted to at least help him through yet another trial. Macaque maybe had some want to help Wukong, as stated by Peng later, kinda, that Macaque still cared about Wukong

3. Alright let's get this out right here right now. He did intact hurt and possibly traumatized Mk and the gang. He made Pigys, Tang, and Mei fight MK (though in shadow form however much they were in control there). He threatened to kill Sandy and Mei, and he was willing to put everyone in danger, even maybe killing Mei (yet again) to forge the Samadhi fire and be free from LBD grasp. Now it's also implied that Macaque follows his own path and needs, putting himself first now. He followed Wukong and put the Brotherhoods and Wukongs ambitions before his own, and look where that got him? But for the series to NEVER TRULY MENTION SEASON 1-3 VILLAIN MACAQUE AFTERWORDS?! Like Mei and Macaque seemed to get along really well considering what happened. I feel like the gang should've held more distrust him more than just out right accepting him like MK. Even Pigsy, who didn't trust Wukong based on his stunts, show much annoyance for Macaque helping MK and them. Also, he never once apologizes to MK, sure helps him, but after hurting him several times? Doesn't exactly equal out.

4. Now Macaques death is a hot topic and the Fandom is ready to kill, steal, and borrow (sorry Hamilton reference) over it. In JTTW, he impersonated Wukong, hurt Tripitaka, was going to replace the Pilgrims, then kinda cuased problems for everyone from the Underworld to Heaven. In LMK and JTTW we know definitely that Wukong killed him, probably against his will, and Macaques mad at him for it. NOW. NEITHER APOLOGISE EVER. Hinted in Season 5, Wukong feels horrible, hates the memory, actually cried recalling it. And even Macaques knows what memory's he was seeing without actually seeing it (maybe that's theory). AND THEY JUST LEAVE IT THERE. NO SORRY NO WE WERE BOTH WRONG NO WE SHOULD HAVE TAKLED IT OUT NO NOTHING. I hope the writers get these two to talk about it cuase well, it's kinda both their fualts, Macaque started it and pushed Wukongs limits, Wulong acted out of anger and defense.

5. Macaque telling Wukong "He needs to do better" when in fact Macaque hasn't himself, the hypocrite. Macaque worries for MK, that's nice, but he himself hasn't "Done better" his redemption arc isn't that far in where we've seen much change. Sure he fought the Brotherhood, but Macaque didn't generally like them and the world was in danger so. Like I know this season focused more on Wukong and MKs relationship and how Wukong will always be there and to reflect season 2/3 where he left MK alone but this time he's there... but like Macaque... you've barely been in this kids life since s3, LIKE TGOSE TWO STILL NEEED CHARACTER GROWTH

6. For anyone who's wat he'd Trollhunters and Ninjago, yall shall understand. In Trollhunters, characters like Nomora and Principal Strickler started out as villains/antagonistic forces then had redemption arcs. Nomorua was a minor character so eh. Anyway PRINCIPAL STRICKLER. Hurt Jim (main character) by actually trying to kill him, by pretending to be his friend, putting his friends in harms way, working under the main antagonist like a henchman, literally tied his soul to his mom's so Jim couldn't kill him, qnd bunch of other stuff. Now it's been awhile since I've seen the show, but Jim slowly convinces Strickler to turn, now does he automatically trust him and their relationship is great? No, it takes time and Strickler has to work to improve, and he apologizes and admits he was wrong. Their relationship isn't the best until much later. They had character development, Strickler saw his wrong ways and apologized, didn't become perfectly best friends with Jim or his friends much later, and his mistakes were brought up later on. This isn't with Macaque, he had more of a Harumi redemption arcs (for my Ninjago fans the Crystalized one I know yall hate it I do apologize). Now Macaques redemption arc is much better than hers, it has reason, it has a point, he tries to be better, ut like it It was kinda rushed, didn't have enought character development where they talk their problems out, they weren't shown enough that they were in the wrong and need to apologize(considering Harumi working for the Overlord). So like an in-between.

Sorry for long post, there's probably more but I'm not one to analyze characters like their a new bacteria needing to put under microscope and handled with care like their precious glass (No offense to the people who do deep dives I love you all and love reading your stuff helps me so much<3)

SO IN CONCLUSION

Macaque's redemption was good, maybe too rushed, could've used more screen time with other characters, needs to apologize and bring up past mistakes, and needs more improvement in future seasons

It has potential and and can still be great, writers I have hope.

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, Chapter 22: The Captain

Holy fucking shitballs, yall. This is the end.

Posted on my AO3 here.

All I really have to say after this is thank you.

☆☆☆

Dear Mom and Dad, 

Dear Winona and George, 

Guess what!

Hi, 

[Are you sure you want to close the program? Your content will not be saved. YES / NO] 

☆☆☆

On the first day after the trial, Kirk took ShiKahr’s public transit from Amanda and Sarek’s house through the city center, and out the other side. Alone on the train as it flew along its magnetic track, he watched out the window as the now-familiar sandstone buildings whirled by. They passed the judicial complex where he had spent the entire previous day: he had walked in a suspect and walked out a free man. It rose up before him, sprawling and imposing, passed in an instant, and then vanished. Kirk turned forward again, letting the rest of the city pass him by, and waited for his stop.

The Vulcan Science Academy complex was housed on the outskirts of ShiKahr, built without formal boundaries to account for its near-constant expansion. It crept further and further out into the Forge— the buildings nearest the public entrance were the oldest, their corners sandblasted into curves by the desert wind, but the newest ones, built to house new advances in technology and new fields of research, were still sharp-edged and angular. The hospital was one of the oldest buildings in the complex--- one of the oldest buildings in the city, according to the lecture Spock gave Kirk and Bones that morning over breakfast. It had originally been a temple, housing healers in the millenia before Surak, a holdover from Vulcan’s war-torn history. Even after the wars had ended, the people who lived on the planet needed care, and so the temple of healers remained, now known as one of the most advanced teaching hospitals in the galaxy. 

Kirk gave his name at the front desk, which was manned by a young Vulcan woman wearing scrubs and a student badge, and was granted entrance. He rode a swift and silent elevator up to the eighth floor and stepped out into a warmly lit hall. Enormous windows at either end of the hallway and the recessed light bulbs set into the ceiling gave the impression of midday sun, despite the early hour. He heard voices coming from the left side, and so he turned that way. 

Around another corner he found two Vulcan doctors and a third human one, deep in conversation next to a bench and a variety of potted cacti. The human doctor, with graying red hair and a petite build, turned to him as he approached and said, “I thought you might come by.” Sarah April nodded to the other doctors before she gestured in front of her, and Kirk fell into step beside her. She led him deeper into the labyrinthine building--- the layout designed before the Vulcan preoccupation with logic--- and eventually stopped next to a closed door with a Vulcan sign appended to the front, a phonetic translation of April’s name. She smiled with sad eyes and said, “I’ll be outside if you need anything.” 

Kirk nodded, and opened the door. 

Admiral Robert April lay quietly in a biobed, surrounded by beeping machines and sensors. His head had been shaved, electrodes stuck to his scalp in a neat grid, and his dark skin was sallow under the lights. For a moment Kirk stood in the doorway, unwilling to wake him if he was resting, but then April rolled his head on the pillow to look at him. 

“Enter,” he said, and Kirk did. There was a chair tucked into the corner with a blanket folded over the back of it. Kirk dragged it next to the bed and sat. The whites of April’s eyes were yellowed with exhaustion. Kirk looked at him; the man who had set everything in motion. How much of his behavior was Elise pulling the strings? How much was April unleashed? 

“What do you want, Kirk?” April’s voice was tired, dry, almost a whisper. Kirk had had grand plans--- he had rehearsed what he wanted to say on the train ride there. He had told Spock where he was going and what he wanted to do, and Spock had sent him off with a kiss and a promise to see him later. But his words failed when he looked at the battered body of the man he had thought was his enemy. 

He still saw the phaser fire before it tore through Spock when he looked at April. He saw himself on his knees in the gritty dust of Kindinos, and saw the sniper with the plasma rifle settling her sights on both of them. But he also saw the blinking brutality of the neutralizer and April’s muffled screams beneath it. He saw April, months ago, trying to pull Spock to safety with a promotion to a science ship far from him. He saw April fighting that hidden programming to allow him and his crew to leave the 31 ship with Elise in tow. 

Elise would have hated what he was about to do--- she never could have understood it. Maybe that was why he had to say it. 

“Thank you,” Kirk said. “For what you tried to do for Spock.” April rolled his head away from Kirk, looking up at the ceiling, and scoffed tiredly. 

“For all the good it did, in the end.” 

Kirk shifted to the edge of his chair. He had expected defensiveness, or the silent treatment; not this bone-deep resignation. “For all the good it did? Admiral, if you hadn’t forced the issue, you would still be stuck on that ship and that woman would still be running Section 31.” April looked back at him. “Spock and I only put together all the pieces after we had to start talking about marriage and bonding, and we only did that because you were going to take him away otherwise.” Kirk considered April’s shaved head, the scattering of machines and their symphony of beeping and whirring. He could have left then, his mission accomplished. But something in April’s haggard face told him that the other man was lost.

“I’m sorry that she did this to you,” Kirk said recklessly. “And I’m sorry for putting you here.” April shook his head shallowly. 

“I knew…” he said slowly. “I knew that the charges were a sham. I knew they wouldn’t stick. This was what I wanted.” His voice dragged, like he was having a hard time connecting his mind to his mouth. “You can go, Kirk.” 

Kirk didn’t move. “What are you going to do next?” 

“Resign,” April said. “Retire.” 

“That’s it? You’re going to give up?” The volume of his voice rose involuntarily. April’s eyes flashed to him--- the first movement that matched the vigor that Kirk had come to expect from him. 

“What would you have me do? Weasel back into a desk job after I defiled everything Starfleet stands for?”

“And how much of that was voluntary, Admiral? How much of working for 31 was voluntary at all?” 

In a blink, the fight melted back out of him. April looked away from him. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know anymore.” 

Kirk leaned back in his chair, and for a moment they sat in silence, the only sound the beeping of the machinery. Then Kirk said, “Can I be honest with you?” 

“I doubt anyone could stop you from doing so.” 

“I don’t think it matters anymore, whether or not you know if it was voluntary,” Kirk said. “Enough of it wasn’t, and then you fought it. What matters now is what you’re going to do about it.” 

April raised one hand weakly and gestured at the hospital room around him. “And what am I going to do about it?”

“Fix it,” Kirk said. “Find a way to talk about what you can’t talk about, and then help fix it.”  When April finally looked at him again, there was a spark of life in his eyes: there was hope, a desperate hope, and the yawning cavern of an isolation that Kirk could only begin to understand. 

“How?”

Kirk shifted his chair closer again. “Listen,” he said. “On Vulcan, what she did to us is called nekwitaya …” 

Their situations were different, of course; the sheer volume of scarring in April’s brain was going to require a lot more hands-on medical care than Kirk had needed. But there was no better place for April to recover than on Vulcan, where a planet of telepaths and scientists understood the gravity of what had been done to him. Here, though there was no undoing what had been done, April stood a chance of healing from it. 

When Kirk left, Sarah April was sitting outside the room, reading on her padd. She stood as he exited, concern pulling her eyebrows together and deepening the creases in her face. Kirk sent her Dr. Rowan McIntire’s contact information, and then he went home. 

☆☆☆

The rest of that day was spent on logistics and organization. Kirk and Spock’s bonding would have none of the violence and circumstance of Spock and T’Pring’s koon-ut-kal-if-fee . They were not children, and there would be no challenge: they needed only their consent and a telepath to perform the bonding. Kirk was vaguely disconcerted by the sheer number of details that went into what was, in effect, a simple backyard wedding ceremony, and made a note to give Janice a commendation for coordinating both their engagement party and their first wedding with seventy-two hours’ notice. 

Despite the fervent and genuine invitation that Kirk had extended, Neera Ketoul excused herself from the bonding festivities after he returned from his visit to April. “I do have other clients to attend to, Captain Kirk,” she said, but she shook his hand warmly when he walked her to the aircar that would return her to the transport hub and away. 

“If there’s ever anything that we can do for you, just say the word,” Kirk said. “We could not have done this without you.” 

“Maybe not,” she agreed, with her hand on the door of the aircar. She considered him, her dark eyes and skin shining under the hot Vulcan sun. “My people are not part of the Federation,” she said. “There is a lot of mistrust on both sides, perhaps too much to overcome. But men like you make me think that someday it could be.” 

Later that night, as Bones washed and dried the dishes from dinner, Amanda reached out to the clan to request the services of a healer to perform the bonding, and Spock convinced a local restaurant to cater enough food for at least twenty people on such short notice, Kirk received a high-priority message on his padd from Starfleet HQ. 

Dear Captain Kirk, 

Congratulations! Though, naturally, the details of your court-martial are classified, I’ve received a new set of orders that make me think I can guess how it went. I’ve been called to Vulcan immediately to assist with [THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN REDACTED]. 

My formal title might be regulations administrator, but not many know that this role includes enforcement, compliance, and oversight, as needed. I think I’m going to have a lot to do over the next few months. 

I’ve been asked to assemble a team for it, which is why I’m reaching out today--- it’s a bit irregular, but if you’re willing to sign off on the transfer and if she agrees, I’d like to request Yeoman Janice Rand for it. She’s got an unparalleled grasp of how and why regulation works in practice, and I could use a mind like hers for what we’re trying to do. 

Let me know what you think, and what she thinks. 

My best to you and the commander. :)

LC Kathleen Lee

Kirk read the message twice before carrying it to Spock, claiming the open seat next to him at the island in the kitchen. Spock scanned it and said, handing it back, “If Yeoman Rand takes this post, I do not believe we will see her again in any short amount of time.” Bones turned to them curiously, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. He cocked an eyebrow up. 

“Oh, I think we’ll see her again,” Kirk said. “It’ll just be when she’s running for president of the Federation.” 

☆☆☆

On the second day after the trial, the morning of his and Spock’s bonding ceremony, Kirk sat undressed on the end of their bed and stared at the empty text block on his padd screen. 

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m getting married today, again. 

I’m Vulcan-bonding with my first officer today. 

Did you go to Sam and Aurelan’s wedding? Would you want to come to mine?

Spock stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot and in an untied robe, and sat down next to him to look at what he was working on. Kirk closed the program and tossed the padd on the bed behind him before leaning into Spock. He was warm and fresh from the sonic, olive and bronzed from months on Vulcan. 

“Do you wish your parents were attending?” Spock’s voice was gentle. 

“Not enough to have written them about it earlier,” Kirk said, and when Spock leaned over him, one long hand against his sternum, he let Spock push him backwards onto the bed. “There’s so much to fix before we’d even get to that point.” 

Spock’s lips brushed the skin behind his ear, down his neck, across one collarbone. “At our current rate, we will have another wedding in approximately eighteen months. You can reevaluate at that point.” Kirk laughed, and Spock’s hand skimmed down his arm, flipping their hands to be palm-to-palm and pressing his down into the mattress. 

“I thought you were tired of parties,” Kirk teased. Spock nipped at him. 

“I have been convinced of their utility,” he said, and slid his hands under Kirk’s hips in a clear attempt to distract him further. His efforts were successful.

The survivors arrived at the house just as the sun was beginning its graceful descent towards the mountains on the horizon beyond the Forge. Kevin wore his dress uniform, but the others were in civilian attire: Ellie and Tommy in near-matching black suits, much to Mira’s delight, and Martha in a dress. Mira wore a hot pink one-piece garment that Kirk couldn’t have named if he had tried, but he watched with a grin as Ellie teased her dryly about having brought party clothes to a court-martial (“We were only coming to testify!”) and Mira defended herself (“Wasn’t I right, though?”).

Bones also wore his uniform. He sidled up to Kirk as they greeted the survivors at the front gate, Vulcan’s closest approximation to a mint julep in hand. 

“Seems to me like you’re starting to wrap things up here, Jim,” he said. “You’ve got more time. No need to rush back into things.” 

Kirk glanced sidelong at him as his friends passed by, led by Amanda towards the garden where the bonding would take place. “I think I’ve had enough time away,” he said. “I don’t want to sit still any longer.” 

Bones’s eyes were shrewd. “But you did sit still for at least a little bit, right?” Down the road a pair of figures began to materialize out of the heat shimmering off the pavement: a round human figure with a short dark thatch of hair, and a bear-sized lump of white and brown. 

“I did,” Kirk said, and watched as the two abstract shapes slowly became Rowan and Suk’han as they approached. “Actually, this is someone I’d like you to meet.” Rowan wore her everyday professional attire that Kirk had come to recognize, but she had woven cactus blossoms into a crown and placed it jauntily over Suk’han’s ears. 

“You’re looking well, Jim,” Rowan said, and smiled approvingly. He grinned and shrugged back at her before turning to Bones. 

“Rowan, this is my chief medical officer, Bones. Leonard McCoy, this is Rowan McIntire. She, ah… she’s the new therapist.”

“Oh?” Bones extended his hand, turning completely towards her to get a better look. 

“The famous Dr. McCoy!” Rowan shook his hand and accepted his inspection. “Tell me, how do you get Bones from Leonard?” As they clasped hands, some sort of mysterious medical understanding passed between them; when Bones smiled back at her, it was genuine. 

“You ask him politely, ma’am,” Bones said, and Rowan laughed wickedly. Suk’han, apparently tired of not being the center of Kirk’s attention, pushed her head against his sternum and leaned a portion of her significant mass against him. 

“Hello to you too,” he murmured, and passed his hands through the thick fur at the base of her neck. She nuzzled him sweetly, and for a moment, abandoning his pretexts at dignity, he threw his arms around her neck entirely. Then he released her, left Bones and Rowan to get to know each other, and went to find his husband. 

The senior staff of the Enterprise were next to arrive. In small groups they beamed down outside the garden gates: Sulu, Chekov, and Pike, then Uhura, Chapel, Janice, and Priyal Khan at Spock’s invitation, and then Sal Giotto and Scotty. Uhura’s feet had no sooner settled into the sand before she was moving, throwing her arms around Spock and Kirk. Spock’s hand came up to stroke affectionately over the back of her hair, but Kirk couldn’t help himself: he picked her up and swung her in a circle as her laughter rang out. There were embraces and back slaps and handshakes all around from his friends; they accepted him back into their ranks as if he had never left.

“God, it’s good to see you all,” he said, grinning so hard his cheeks ached. He squatted next to Chris’s chair to hear him better over the hubbub. His crew mingled in the garden among the cacti and shrubbery with Spock’s parents, Rowan, and the Tarsus survivors. Amanda and Rowan talked quietly by the table of beverages, and something Rowan said made Amanda’s quiet laugh burble through the garden. Suk’han was ecstatic on her back as Mira, Uhura, and Chapel cooed over her spots and rubbed her belly. “How have things been?”

“Surprisingly quiet,” Chris said. “Seems as though you’re the magnet for most of the trouble that the Enterprise gets in.” 

“Hey, now,” Kirk complained, and his eyes found Spock across the way, dark and handsome in the goldenrod light of dusk. “Spock was gone too. Maybe he’s the magnet.” 

“You just keep telling yourself that, son,” Chris laughed. “Maybe someday you’ll convince someone else.” He navigated his hoverchair carefully around Amanda’s plants to talk to Spock, and Kirk basked in the presence of so many of his loved ones. As he stood alone, looking over the assembled, something painful twinged in his heart. Sam should have been here. After so many wounds had been healed and problems solved, part of Kirk thought that Sam and his ridiculous mustache should have emerged, laughing and whole, from behind some curtain. It didn’t seem fair that, after everything, Sam and Aurelan were still dead.

He took a sip of his drink and tilted his head back, letting the last of the day’s sunlight wash over him. I miss you, he thought fervently. I wish you were here for all this. He pictured Sam as he remembered him: throwing open the door to his hospital room, skipping classes with him after his return to school, showing him around the Academy campus when he first arrived, the holos of him holding baby Peter after he was born. He held the ache in his chest with both hands, letting himself miss Sam, before he opened his eyes again. The ache didn’t go away, but it took up a safe and manageable residence in his heart next to everything else. Then he exhaled and rejoined his friends.

Kirk was turned away from the garden entrance, talking to Scotty and Giotto, and so he didn’t see her when she arrived. He only heard the sudden hush that fell over those gathered, and in the silence, he turned. 

T’Pau swept towards him through the garden, the edges of her robes disturbing the sand in tornado-like swirls. It seemed like even the insects and the night-birds had fallen quiet in her presence. Kirk raised the ta’al and glanced quickly at Spock. 

“Elder T’Pau,” he said. “What can I do for you?” He felt, more than saw, Spock wind his way through the crowd and materialize at his side. T’Pau considered him, the half-light casting the wrinkles of her face in sharp contrast. 

“ S’chn T’gai James Kirk,” she said finally. “Thee and Spock are to be bonded.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She nodded once. Her eyes glinted in the fading light, no less shrewd for her age. 

“Thee has done Vulcan a service,” she said. She raised one hand, her robes collapsing down around her elbow. “If thee will give thy mind, I will bond thee.” Spock’s shoulders settled back in surprise as he clasped his hands behind his back, and Amanda’s eyebrows shot upwards before she reined her facial expression back into a warm neutrality. 

“It would be an honor,” Kirk said, when he found his voice. Spock shifted closer to him, their shoulders brushing, and they both sank to their knees under T’Pau’s titanium gaze. Their family, their friends, formed a loose circle around them and the leader of their clan as T’Pau raised both hands. 

“I will bond thee in the way of our people,” T’Pau said, her voice sonorous in the desert evening. “What thee will witness comes down from the time of the beginning without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. Kah-if-farr! ”

She lowered her hands, and for a second, before she put her fingers on Kirk’s face, she waited. Kirk closed his eyes and nodded. With that consent, she placed her fingers on his psi-points, and the world around him vanished. 

It was dark in the meld. T’Pau’s mind was vast and echoing around him. He could feel the enormity of her intellect, her age, the reverberating katric energy that she carried. He felt very small. He was a speck in the darkness, one single star in the galaxy, and he felt the scrunity when that gargantuan mind came to focus on him. 

James Kirk , T’Pau said. This is the Vulcan way. Thee gives thy mind willingly to another?

There was a tiny part of him, ancient and wounded, that longed to flinch, if only out of habit. But he had not spent the past four months excavating his heart to give in to that habit now. I give it to Spock , Kirk said, or thought. He felt the rumble of her approval rattle the world around him. 

Speak our words, she told him. I would bond with thee, ever and always touching and touched . 

Kirk repeated them back, stumbling at first but then growing in strength: I would bond with thee, ever and always touching and touched. He said them again and again until he could feel his heart beating in time with its rhythm. He heard the echoes of hundreds of thousands of bonded pairs singing with him in T’Pau’s ancestral memory. He repeated them until he could feel himself vibrating with it; he glowed with his conviction. This was for Spock, this was for his best friend and his husband, the man who had walked into hell for him and carried him out--- this was what Kirk wanted to give to him. 

Then, in the darkness --- there was light. A golden sun erupted into flames on the far horizon of T’Pau’s mind. It soared from an impossible distance towards him, trailing a burning thread like a meteor shower behind it, before falling towards him. Kirk held out both hands and caught the tiny star in his palms. It burned. It loved him. It unspooled into thread and formed a glimmering road from his hands to some indescribable point in the dark void beyond, stretching on forever. He felt T’Pau’s sudden and fierce curiosity, so like Spock’s, and the roaring approval of those who had come before him as it lit the way forward. 

This is the Vulcan heart , T’Pau said. Her voice was as stoic as ever, but beneath it, reverberating through the meld-space, he could hear something that was almost surprise. Guidance is unnecessary for thee now. Follow the bond. There was an enormous shifting around him as T’Pau closed parts of her mind off to him; it was suddenly quieter than he had ever experienced. There was only his mind, and his thrumming heartbeat, and the golden burning string that pulled him forward. Follow the bond, James Kirk, T’Pau said. 

Kirk took a fumbling step forward in the darkness, feet falling unsteadily towards the invisible floor under him. Then another. Then another. The string pulled him forward, steadying him, anchoring him. He knew where he was going now. At the far end of the road before him was Spock, his ecstatic curiosity and his secret kindness and the beautiful mind that he had offered to Kirk without reservation. 

Kirk wrapped both hands in the nascent bond before him and took off running. 

Ever and always, ever and always, ever and always . 

The bond grew hotter and hotter in his hands, glowing brighter until it had all but banished the inky void around him. He had been wrong about the color--- it was gold, but it wasn’t only gold. It was the silver of the Enterprise , and the burgundy of Spock’s old quarters. It was the cream and green and gold of wedding streamers, and the blue of a science tunic. It was the umber of Vulcan sand and the black of uniform trousers and the yellow of an Iowa cornfield and the teal of a Tarsus sky. It was everything that was both of them, and it burned in his hands. 

The sense of T’Pau was fading, that ancient intellect melting away. It was replaced instead by the insistent surety that Spock was near, that he was following the same path from the other side. The sense of him grew with every step as the bond glowed white-hot until it was too hot to hold. Even when he dropped it Kirk could feel it in and around him. 

He was in the center of a star, and it flared around him. He was going to burn with it. It was all-encompassing, inescapable, incomprehensible. 

I would bond with thee, he said to the star. Ever and always touching and touched. 

Spock said, I would bond with thee, and his voice was everywhere. Ever and always touching and touched . Spock’s mind was everywhere, and Kirk dissolved in it. He settled entirely into Spock’s hands as Spock spun around him. 

My Jim , Spock said, nearly purring with satisfaction. They tangled in each other.

K’diwa , Kirk said. In the meld there was no hiding his delight. Honey! Spock’s mind curled around his, and Kirk threw his arms open to accept it. He had not known before how literal the translation ‘meld’ was for what he felt: there was no separating them now as they spun around each other, a binary star system, a hurricane, inextricably entwined. He had feared this intimacy so entirely when they had first married, pushing Spock away to prevent the opportunity from ever arising. But none of that fear remained. There was no part of himself that he wouldn’t trust Spock to see and hold. They swung around each other as the star of the nascent bond burned. It slowly consolidated, condensing down from uncontrollable flame into something more like a bridge. It refracted into every color Kirk had ever seen before it settled into a solid arc from his mind to Spock’s. It glowed. 

Spock pressed on it, and it reverberated. Kirk laughed as he felt it vibrate through him, rumbling his bones, lighting up his mind. 

Bondmates , Kirk said. 

Telsu , Spock said. His voice was steady, but there was no hiding his emotion in the bond: it sang with his pleasure. Slowly Kirk became aware of his body again, as well as his mind and the bond. He remembered that there was a world outside of their minds, T’Pau and Spock’s parents and their friends, and he felt Spock’s amusement at his chagrin. 

We will have time, ashayam , Spock said, and in the swirling abyss of the meld Kirk felt his arms come around him. With the bond glowing like a meteor shower between them, he carried them back to the world. 

Kirk’s eyes opened. T’Pau pulled her hands from his and Spock’s faces, shaking her robes back down over her wrists. 

“Thee are bonded,” she declared without preamble, and she only blinked once as the unruly humans around her whooped and hollered. She caught Kirk’s eyes, looking down on him from where he still knelt in the sand, and she nodded. They were now even, he thought, and somehow he was certain that he and Spock would be welcomed back to Vulcan whenever they chose to return. He turned to Spock, a wide smile splitting his face, and Spock pulled him to his feet. The touch of his hands seared through him. By the time he had turned back to T’Pau to thank her, she was already halfway across the garden, a black-robed mass vanishing into the dark. He watched her go until a pulsing warmth in the back of his head pulled his attention back to the garden. Spock watched him, outwardly stoic, but Kirk could feel him through the bond: a subtle and curious joy that he knew didn’t belong to him. The sun had set while they were in the meld, and in the evening twilight Spock glowed in his vision with some invisible, intangible psychic energy.

He held two fingers out, and Spock met him in the ozh’esta. His eyes widened as their hands met and that energy arced between their hands, flashing up his arm and making his hair stand on end. Spock’s amusement and the dark heat of a promise for later in the evening soaked into his mind. 

“I get it now,” he breathed. For a moment the heat overwhelmed him; he only wanted to drag Spock back to the guesthouse and make love to him while the new bridge sang between their minds. But their friends were here to celebrate them; they would have time enough later. With the knowledge of what was to come heating his thoughts, they turned back to their family and friends to celebrate beneath the desert sky. 

The night stretched on as Kirk and Spock mingled with their loved ones. Every brush of their fingers or casual touch sparked down Kirk’s skin, driving him to distraction, and Spock’s well-hidden amusement was evident through the bond. Kirk could feel him in the back of his mind, like Spock had a hand on the back of his neck, and he couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling his mind against the spot just to feel Spock glow with pleasure on the other side. 

Eventually, both too soon and not soon enough, the guests started to say their goodbyes. Tommy and Martha left first, with the promise that they would come by the next day to see Kirk again before they went home, then Mira and Ellie. Rowan and Suk’han followed, much to Chapel and Uhura’s disappointment. Rowan gave Kirk a hug before she left. 

“You keep my information, you hear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Kirk said. 

“My new best friend Bones will tell me if you need to reach out and you don’t,” she said, and Kirk’s eyes widened with betrayal. 

“I never should have introduced the two of you!”

Rowan shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “But it’s too late now.” She waited as Kirk pressed his forehead to Suk’han’s, fondling her ears and accepting a rough-scrape lick across his cheek, and then, with one more smile, she left. Bones appeared at his shoulder. 

“I like her,” he said immediately, and Kirk slapped him on the back. 

“I’m sure you do,” he said. The Enterprise crew started beaming back up to the ship as well; Bones retrieved his things from the main house and accepted hugs from Amanda and Kirk before he left. As Janice stepped forward with Uhura and Chapel, Kirk snagged her arm. 

“If you don’t mind too terribly,” he said. “I have a work question for you.” 

“Sure, captain,” she said, and nodded to Christine and Uhura for them to continue on without her. Kevin dropped in behind them, returning to the Enterprise rather than ShiKahr now that the trial was over. Kirk steered them a few paces away from the rest of the crew as Spock saw them off, trying not to twitch as Spock left his side for the first time since they were bonded, and said, “I received an interesting message today.” 

Janice’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting how?” 

“It was a job offer for you.” Her eyebrows went higher, climbing towards her braided beehive. 

“What type of job?” 

Kirk considered her, trying to gauge how best to explain Lee’s offer. He mentally backed up, and instead put both hands on her shoulders. 

“Thank you,” he said first. “For all your help before the trial. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” 

“Oh,” she said, pleased, and looked down. “I’m sure that it would have been fine, you had Kathleen---” Then she cut herself off, and to Kirk’s immense surprise, blushed. “Lieutenant Commander Lee,” she said awkwardly. 

“Now, Janice,” Kirk said slowly, grinning, “What’s all this about?” 

“Nothing, captain,” she said immediately. Kirk shook her by the shoulders.

“We are at my wedding, yeoman,” he said, and released her. “I think you can be a little personal, if you want.” She looked up at him, blue eyes enormous, and covered her cheeks with the backs of her fingers before she said, “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing. It’s just…” She took a deep breath and said, her blush returning with a vengeance, “I’ve never met anyone whose mind works like hers before. Like mine. Working with her…” She trailed off and looked down.  

“You like her,” Kirk said, and Spock looked over at him in response to his pulse of delight over the bond. 

“I don’t know,” she protested. Kirk had never seen her at a loss for words before. “I’ve never even met her in person. I just…”

“She offered you a job,” Kirk said, unable to hide the grin spreading across his face. “She messaged me today. If you want it, I’ll sign your transfer.”

“What?” Her voice was sharp with shock. She covered her cheeks again. The bond in the back of Kirk’s head vibrated and shivered as Spock approached. 

“I believe her exact words were, ‘She’s got an unparalleled grasp of how and why regulation works in practice,’” Spock said. “She has been tasked with something in the aftermath of the court-martial, and requested you for her staff.” Janice pressed her hands harder against her cheeks. 

“I… But…” She looked up at them, her eyes shining. 

“Yeoman,” Kirk said, and felt Spock settle his hand at the base of his spine. The contact sent shivers over his skin, refracting in his vision. “Can I give you some advice?” She nodded. He leaned into Spock’s shoulder and said, “Take the leap.” 

Janice closed her eyes and nodded again. Then she dropped her hands away from her face and straightened, and Kirk saw the steel in her spine reassert itself. 

“By your leave, captain,” she said, voice high with excitement, and Kirk nodded. With one more mischievous grin breaking out over her face, she turned and ran to where Giotto was waiting to beam up. Kirk and Spock turned to the last of their guests. The rest of the crew then beamed back to the ship, and when Kirk watched them go, it was with the knowledge that he would be joining them soon.

He and Spock helped clear away the detritus of celebration, and under the light of T’Khut stole away back to the guesthouse. Before the door had even shut behind them entirely Spock had pushed him back against it. It clicked sharply in the silence, and before the echo had even faded away entirely Spock was on him, tongue and teeth against his skin and his hand sliding down into his trousers. Finally he could focus entirely on the new bond in the back of his mind. When he closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the door as Spock licked down his neck, he felt not only his own arousal, but Spock’s too, shuddering over the bond in great gasps. He pulled Spock’s face to his so he could kiss him. He slid his tongue past the seam of Spock’s lips as they parted for him, one of Spock’s hands coming up to cradle the back of his head and hold him in place. He listened, and felt it like the ocean: behind a barrier that he could only assume were Spock’s shields, some raging morass swelled. Kirk slid his hands under Spock’s robes, running them up his chest, and he could feel it: both Spock’s heat and skin under his palms, but also the mirror of the feeling through the bond, the way Spock tingled and lit up at his touch. Their mutual arousal bounced between them, magnifying with each pass down the bond of nails against backs and teeth against nipples and tongues against skin. Kirk pushed him backwards towards the bed, pulling Spock’s robes off his shoulders and sliding his hands greedily over the miles and miles of exposed skin. He glowed in the light of T’Khut through the windows, rippled scars and body hair and bony joints all illuminated for Kirk’s admiration. Spock was his, every inch and neuron, to touch and hold and love. 

“Yours,” Spock murmured in response as he let Kirk push him backwards onto the bed. Kirk crawled over him, relishing the mirrored drag of skin and hair, the way Spock ground up against his thigh between his legs. 

Yours , Kirk thought down the bond, as loudly as he could, and felt Spock’s mind throb in response. The dual sensations of both him and Spock were overwhelming. He was flying blind, but he followed his instincts: he pressed his mind messily against Spock’s shields as he kissed and licked and bit down his body. Let me in, let me see you. 

Ashayam--- Spock’s mind-voice was breathless as Kirk took him into his mouth, kneeling between his legs. His own cock throbbed, untouched, as what Spock was feeling flooded over him. He felt giddy with overstimulation, high on the sensation of the reverberating bond, the tether between their minds bouncing with movement and arousal. He crawled back up the bed to retrieve the lubricant from Spock’s bedside table. When he settled back next to him to work him open, Spock peeled back the layers of his shields in a striptease unlike any other.

Kirk did not frequently forget that Spock was an alien, a completely different species than himself; but it had never been so apparent than it did when Spock’s senses started to leak down the bond. His hearing was far keener than Kirk’s, his color vision slightly different, his sense of smell completely different. He closed his eyes to take it all in as he opened Spock up by touch alone. The way Spock saw him, felt him, smelled his sweat and sex--- all of it pulsed and dripped like wax down the bond into his mind. His fingers in Spock sparked with latent psi-energy, now made tangible through their bonding, lighting him up from the inside. Then Spock brought his hand up to Kirk’s face, sliding over his cheekbones and settling onto his psi-points. They slipped into the meld.

His body continued to move on autopilot. He settled between Spock’s thighs and pulled him into his lap. Spock groped at his shoulders and bit his neck as he slid into him, but all of his attention was within. He no longer had any concept of controlling or directing his own thoughts; the bond and Kirk’s mind were flooded with Spock. Spock slid into his mind. Spock pressed him open, the sheer overwhelming depth of his regard and his arousal dripping and licking into every fold and crevice. He could see himself the way Spock saw him: he could see shades that Kirk’s human eyes never could have distinguished. In Spock’s vision, he glowed a thousand shades of gold. 

Kirk laced his fingers through Spock’s, pinning his hands down against the mattress, and buried his face in his neck with his eyes closed. He listened to Spock’s sharp little gasps and let Spock’s mind push into his, tonguing him open, laving his love, his thoughts, his lust over everything he was. The bond drew them tighter and tighter, swelling with the energy that poured between them, vibrating until it was singing one clear note between them--- 

When they came, they came together, and the bond erupted into glimmering shards of light. 

☆☆☆

When he awoke the next morning, Kirk’s padd had a notice on it from the Enterprise .

By order of Dr. Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, Captain James Kirk is authorized to return to duty, with no restrictions, effective start of next Alpha shift. 

His jag of bright sharp happiness startled Spock out of sleep, who turned to him immediately, reaching for him across the bed. “Jim?” 

Kirk flopped backwards onto the pillows and tossed his padd out of reach before rolling over Spock, straddling his hips and pressing his forehead to his. Spock skimmed his hands over his back and ass, his question floating over the bond and through his skin. 

Kirk said, “Let’s go home.”

☆☆☆

Kirk and Spock prepared lunch in the kitchen of the main house before the survivors arrived. They would spend a few hours together before they scattered back to the far corners of the galaxy; Tommy and Martha to their university, Mira and Ellie to their school, and Kirk and Kevin back to the Enterprise . After they’d all arrived and eaten together, Spock extended a gracious hand in front of him and said to Martha, “Would you care to see my mother’s garden? She has encouraged many non-native plants to flourish here.” 

“Yes! I meant to ask you about Vulcan pollinators last night,” Martha said immediately, and smoothed a hand over Tommy’s hair as she passed him and followed Spock outside. The door shut quietly behind them, leaving the survivors seated around the island. It struck Kirk that, without his noticing, he and his kids had sat around a table to share a meal for the first time since Farm School. He and Tommy had both found partners with whom they could share what they had endured, Kevin had carefully eaten nearly an entire plate with only one preliminary flinch, and with every moment spent in their company Ellie became a little less private. She was still reserved--- she and Mira had always had different temperaments--- but she shared more of her own interests, rather than letting Mira talk for both of them. Kirk learned that Martha and Tommy wanted children, that Ellie had a partner but Mira was uninterested in romance, that Kevin was the number one scorer across all of Starfleet on a popular holo-vid game. With every detail that he learned about them, their hollowed-out, desolate faces in his memory were replaced with them as they were now: scarred but alive, so alive. Even if they did not stay in contact any longer now that the trial was over, seeing them was a gift to him. 

The survivors stayed for three hours, talking over their empty plates. Martha and Spock eventually rejoined them with Martha’s promise to send along her research on artificial pollination for transplanted flowers, and Kirk spent his afternoon drinking in the pleasure of their company. His kids, his friends--- he had asked for help and they had risen to the challenge with a grace he had never predicted. 

Their time was winding down when Tommy said quietly, “I’ve been thinking about something since we got here.” All attention turned to him. He released his mask from the side of his head and rubbed the damaged skin self-consciously before resealing it. “I want to find Laika’s parents, and Madeleine and Natalya’s if possible, and tell them the truth.” Martha’s hand found Tommy’s under the table. For a second there was silence around the table as they remembered their fallen friend, the empty sixth chair, who had only tried to preserve their meager water supply and had died for it. They remembered the adults who had tried to save them.

“Yes,” Mira said, voice firm, and Ellie nodded. “They should know.” 

“Madeleine and Natalya were Starfleet,” Kirk said, and looked at Spock and Kevin. “Their emergency contacts might still be listed in their cadet files.”

“One of my professors from the Academy had been on the Valiant ,” Kevin offered. “She might know something useful, too.”

Tommy grinned lopsidedly across the table at Kirk, and Kirk grinned back. 

Kirk and Spock stood on the long, low front porch as the rest of the survivors called for aircars to take them to other transport or commed the Enterprise to be beamed back up. When it was time for each to go, Kirk pulled them in for a hug.

“Thank you,” he told each one, and each time he received a variation on a theme: I’m so glad you asked. I’m so glad you reached out. I’m happy that I could help you. Thank you for bringing us back together.  

Then it was only him and Spock standing in the late-afternoon sun, and Spock asked, “Will you remain in contact with them now?” 

“God, I hope so,” Kirk said. “Maybe I’ll let them all get home and settled before reaching back out again, though.” 

Then his padd dinged. He pulled it from his pocket. 

You have been invited to a group message by Mira Alcanzar: FARM SCHOOL FAMILY. Accept invitation? [YES / NO]

☆☆☆

Amanda and Spock prepared a special dinner for their last night on Vulcan: a wildly illogical smorgasbord of the foods that Kirk had enjoyed most during his time there. Breakfast breads rested alongside the vegetable wrap that he had eaten every day for lunch for three weeks in a row after first being introduced to it. There was a lot of soy; Vulcans had figured out ways to prepare tofu that even centuries of Earth vegans hadn’t attempted. Sarek, home earlier than usual from the embassy, joined them, and though dinner was quieter for his presence it was not tense or unpleasant.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Amanda assured them after they all cleared away the plates, either stored or recycled what hadn’t been eaten, and Sarek had vanished into his office. “But the house will feel so strange once you’ve gone back.” 

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. For us,” Kirk said to her. He dried the dishes that she had deemed too delicate for the sonic and replaced them in their proper places. She handed him the last glass and leaned her hip against the counter, turning to look at him. 

“Logic does not need to be thanked, Jim,” she said. Then she laid her hand on his arm. “And neither does family.” His throat tightened at the unexpected words. She smiled as he struggled with his composure and turned to the kitchen at large, where Spock wiped down the table. 

“I hope you come visit when you’re able,” she said. “I hope it’s not another twenty years before we get Spock back here.” 

“I’ll see what I can do, ma’am. But if you could send me a list of anything that would qualify me for clan protection again, I might be able to speed up the process.” He and Amanda laughed as Spock raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, and then they bid her goodnight. 

They were halfway across the garden to the guesthouse when a deep voice called, “ Sa-fu. ” Spock straightened immediately and turned over his shoulder. Kirk turned with him as a spark of surprise flickered down the bond. Sarek stood by the back door, illuminated by the light of the main house; it swirled over the waves of his hair and caught in his robes. 

“ Sa-mekh,” Spock said, and Kirk felt the twinge of question and confusion in Spock’s mind. When was the last time he had called his father by that word, instead of his name? Had it been before that last catastrophic fight, before Spock joined Starfleet?

Sarek hesitated for a moment, before he crossed to them. For a moment he looked at his son, and his son at him. Then Sarek extended something between them. Spock took it and held it up in the light: it was a wrapped packet of coiled ka'athyra strings.

“Your playing has improved since your youth,” Sarek said. “But it appears that the strings on your instrument have not been replaced.” 

“ Ka’athyra strings are rarely sold off of Vulcan, and therefore difficult to acquire while on mission,” Spock said, and gently turned the packet in his hands. He looked at his father. 

“Then it would be prudent for you to return in order to purchase them more regularly,” Sarek said. He looked at his son, and though his face remained still, something in his eyes softened. He drew himself up and said, in the measured tones of the perfectly logical, “Your mother would like it.” He stepped backwards, as if to distance himself from what he had said, and instead raised the ta’al . “I travel early in the morning for a meeting, so I will not see you before you depart. Live long and prosper, Spock. Captain Kirk.” 

Spock and Kirk both raised the ta’al . “Live long and prosper, Father,” Spock said, and Sarek nodded once before turning and sweeping back into the house. Spock looked down at the strings in his hand before looking at Kirk with something close to abject shock bouncing over the bond. Kirk ran his hand over Spock’s back, leaning into him for a moment, and they continued back to the guesthouse to pack.

Before Kirk fell asleep that night, he sent a message. 

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I hope you’re both doing well. How is the U.S.S. Sausalito? Are you headed anywhere new? 

I wanted to let you know that I’m married now--- to my first officer, S’chn T’gai Spock of Vulcan. We were bonded on Vulcan while we were on-planet for leave. If we ever cross paths, I’d love to introduce him to you. He’s great. I think Dad would like him a lot. 

I also wanted to talk to you about something else. I’m not sure if you heard, but there was a court-martial recently--- I was cleared, but the trial brought up a lot of evidence about what happened when I was a kid. If you’re up for it, I’d like to talk to you about it. If you’re not, that’s fine. But the offer stands. 

Anyway, that’s all. Safe travels. 

Your son,

Jim

He closed his padd and dropped it onto the bedside table before rolling to wrap himself around Spock’s back. Part of him wanted to refresh his messages over and over until the battery died. Part of him hoped that his parents never responded. But he had done his part; the only thing he had control over was whether or not he had sent the comm. 

They might respond and refuse to acknowledge that anything had changed, or refuse to talk about Tarsus at all. They might prefer to stay estranged and leave themselves at arm’s distance. But Kirk had reached out. He would leave that hand extended, because that was what he did: he would rather reach out and fail than never try and wonder forever.

In the end, he thought, what his parents decided to do now wouldn’t really matter. He knew that, either way, he would be okay.

☆☆☆

The next morning, Kirk pulled his uniform down off the hanger in the closet for the first time in four months. He held it in his hands, letting it slide through his fingers to the bed, before stripping off his sleep clothes and stepping into them. He sensed Spock’s approach before the door opened, and when Spock entered from the bathroom in his science blues, Kirk turned with his hands outstretched and said, “How do I look?” 

Spock scanned him from head to toe and back again, and though his face did not change Kirk could feel him through the bond: pride and appreciation, a flicker of arousal that Kirk noted with curiosity and tucked away to consider in detail later, and his love. 

“Ready for duty, sir,” Spock said, and bent to kiss him. 

They met Amanda in the backyard with their bags. She was dressed to leave for her own work, hair wrapped carefully to prevent it being tossed in the day’s high winds, and unclasped her hands from in front of herself as they appeared. Kirk accepted a hug and Spock raised the ta’al .

“Please let us know how you’re doing every once in a while,” Amanda said to Kirk, eyes twinkling at them both. “Us human mothers do appreciate a sign of life.” 

“I’ll make it happen, ma’am,” Kirk said, grinning. Then, with a lurch of joy and apprehension, he flipped open his comm. “Captain Kirk to Lieutenant Commander Scott.” 

“Scotty here,” a welcome voice called back. “On standby for transport, sir.” 

“Thank you again, Amanda,” Kirk said, and Amanda smiled warmly. 

“You’re always welcome here, Jim,” she said. Then her focus turned to her son. “I love you, sa-fu. ” Spock inclined his head, and as Kirk gave Scotty the word and the transporter grabbed them, the bond twanged with gratitude and warmth and something that felt like daring. 

“And I you, ko-mekh ,” Spock said. Before the transporter whirled them away, they got one good look at the expression on Amanda Grayson’s face as she registered what Spock had said. It was beautiful. 

Kirk and Spock materialized on the starship Enterprise for the first time in four months, and it immediately felt like home again. Kirk closed his eyes, still standing on the transporter pad with his bag over his shoulder, and listened to the music of his ship: the constant low roar of life support and aircon, the beeps and whirrs of panels and machinery fans, footsteps in the hallway and the voices of his crew, and one Montgomery Scott at the transporter control panel calling, “Good to have you back, captain!” 

“Ah, Scotty,” Kirk said, and grinned broadly. “There’s no place like home.” They stepped out of the transporter room and were immediately overwhelmed by a chorus of “welcome back!” and “good to see you!” from the crew passing through the halls. Tired engineers leaving the bay after Gamma shift passed bright-eyed Alpha scientists headed down to the science decks early--- the scientists did double-takes at Spock’s reappearance, raising the Vulcan salute and squeaking their hellos before darting down to the labs. Kirk bounced on the balls of his feet, drinking it all in. He had been returned to his ship, rested and repaired and more grateful than he had ever been in his life for the crew that had held space for him while he was away. He wanted to wrap his arms around the entirety of the ship and hold it close to him.

Spock pulled Kirk’s duffel bag off his shoulder and placed it onto his own. “I will return our possessions to our quarters and meet you on the bridge,” he said. Amusement and affection pulsed over the bond, spilling into his mind, as Spock thought, Go. I’ll see you in a moment. Kirk grinned at him, quietly pressing two fingers to Spock’s, and slipped with Scotty into the crowd. 

He had thirty minutes before the start of Alpha shift, and he intended to make them count. He started by following Scotty down to Engineering to say hello to the engineers before shifting upward to the labs. He waved to Dr. Khan and Spock’s scientists, many of whom giggled and waved at the return of his formerly unexplained presence in the lab. He stuck his head in the crew mess to shout hello and grab a coffee, did the same in the officers’ mess, popped into the gym and Giotto’s office, and rode the turbolift just to hear the whooshing of it. He climbed a Jeffries tube and scared the living daylights out of an unprepared ensign when he swung out of it. He eventually found himself on the D deck: the longest strip of uninterrupted corridor on the ship, dead in the center and reaching from fore to aft. He didn’t see a single other person in the hallway; it didn’t have a formal use, and mostly served as a conduit to other places. 

He raised his hands high above his head, stretching and breathing in the slightly stale tang of recycled air. The oxygen level on the ship was higher than that of Vulcan, and he was high on the difference. He would miss Vulcan. He would miss the guesthouse and Amanda’s kitchen and the purple tile of Rowan’s ceiling. But the Enterprise was his home; this was where he belonged. He bounced on the balls of his feet and relished the feel of his uniform against his skin and the comfortable tread of his work boots against the floor. Then, completely alone, unwatched, and free, he ran the entire length of his beloved ship, laughing like a kid.

Kirk arrived on the bridge thirty seconds before the start of Alpha shift. The turbolift door whooshed open, and it was like the past four months had never happened: Uhura at the communications console, Sulu and Chekov bickering at the front, Spock standing at parade rest by the sensors, already looking at the turbolift when Kirk arrived. Chris wheeled his chair around as a rush of warmth engulfed Kirk: welcome backs and hellos, and Spock’s pleased pride and comfort humming in the back of his mind.

 “Welcome back, Captain Kirk,” Chris said. 

“Thank you, Admiral,” Kirk said, and grinned. “I relieve you, sir.” 

“I am relieved,” Chris said, and for a moment it crystallized between them: that unique love that a captain had for the ship they commanded, and their appreciation for the ship and the crew that they loved in common. Then Chris backed out of the chair-stall and Kirk strode down the steps to it. He flipped the seat back down and, after all his time away, sat back into it. 

He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. It felt a little different, after the alterations that Scotty had made for Chris’s chair. But he was different, as well, so that was alright. 

“Your orders are to escort me, Morrow, and Drake back to Earth,” Chris said. “Then you’ll head back out to the black.” His eyes flicked to a padd that Kirk hadn’t noticed, resting on the arm of the chair. “That came this morning.” Kirk sat forward and flicked it open to read as Chris made his farewells to the rest of the bridge crew and steered himself into the turbolift. 

HIGH PRIORITY 

CONFIDENTIAL 

Captain Kirk, 

It’s been a productive few days for us, but it seems like every time we learn something concrete, it sends us down another rabbit hole of secrets. My prediction of a few months of work may have been premature. We’re not waiting for the investigation to be done, though, before we start rectifying some of the more egregious violations. Please see attached an assignment for after you return the admirals to Headquarters. If you find it more painful than helpful, let me know, but I’ve decided that you and Lieutenant Riley get the right of first refusal on this one.

Two other updates for you: first, Admiral April is remaining on Vulcan for the time being so that he can work with the VSA to repair the damage done by the neutralizer. Though communication is complicated on that front at the moment, he has indicated that he intends to remain embedded with my team until the work is done. 

I did tell him what I was going to offer to you, and he said, and I quote, to “call it a belated wedding gift.” 

Second: Janice says hello. Thank you again for signing her transfer - she has been invaluable already. 

Reach out if you refuse the mission or if there are any complications. If not, report the outcome back to me once completed. 

Best,

LC Lee

Kirk tapped on the bond to get Spock’s attention as he re-read Lee’s note. His attention snagged on the phrase ‘right of first refusal’ as Spock left his sensors to stand at his shoulder and read the padd in his hand. 

Any guesses?

None that I am willing to put forth. 

Kirk tapped to the next page and pulled up the mission itself. Across the top was branded FOR EXTRADITION: CRIMES AGAINST SENTIENT LIFE. 

Then beneath that was LAST KNOWN ALIAS: ANTON KARIDIAN. 

Anton Karidian was a man who seemingly sprang to life eighteen years previously solely to perform as an actor on various far-flung planets. Beneath the brief dossiere of information known about him was the formal assignment signed by both Lee and April: This alias may be used by the man formerly known as Governor Kodos of Tarsus IV. Investigate, confirm, and if confirmed, capture alive and return to Earth for trial and sentencing.  

“My god,” Kirk said quietly, and covered his mouth with one hand. He scanned the information again: it wasn’t much, but it had come from April and Lee. Shock from him and comfort from Spock filled the bond in equal measure. A small part of him wailed in distress at the thought of facing the man who had killed his friends and destroyed Farm School. But there was a larger, louder, stronger part of him that called for justice. 

He had already faced Elise and found justice for himself and his friends; here was an opportunity to do the same on a much larger scale. He thought about the eight thousand people that had died on Tarsus: his friends and his teachers and an enormous list of people that he had never met and would never know. They deserved accountability from the Federation; they deserved for their stories to be told. He turned his eyes to the viewscreen ahead of him. Below them was Vulcan, and ahead were the stars, so many little pinholes of light in a black velvet sky. But closer to him were his beloved bridge crew, his friends and his family, and they were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to lead them. 

He looked down at the data sheet about Karidian. The troupe that he led was making its way through the Alpha quadrant; they could drop the admirals off on Earth and then continue on an intercept path to meet them before they got to Planet Q, where Tommy and Martha lived. He closed the padd. He would talk to Kevin before formally accepting, but he thought he had an idea about what Kevin might say about it. The Enterprise would take the mission, and he would tell his crew what their goals were when they were closer. He might tell the bridge crew why they had been assigned this mission, this man; he might even tell a select handful what he felt about it. 

Kirk might find an unlucky stranger, or he might find the man who had walked through his nightmares. But he wouldn’t do it alone. 

“Mr. Chekov, plot a course to Earth. Mr. Sulu, prepare for warp three,” Kirk said, and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his legs again. Behind him, Uhura called the Vulcan interstellar transportation authority to clear their exit, and his helmsman and his navigator in front of him ran through their checks together as they prepared for their departure. 

His science officer, his husband, his bondmate stood quietly at his side, and rested one hand on his shoulder before returning to his sensors and scanners. Even when the touch of his hand had dropped away, Kirk felt Spock’s attention through the bond: partially on his console, partially humming at the presence of Kirk’s mind nearby. He would need to learn to shield, at some point, or risk distracting Spock every time he looked over and saw him bent over the scanners just so. But they would have time enough for that; in the meanwhile, he was enjoying the constant comforting hum of Spock’s ever-churning mind in the back of his own.

“Course locked, captain,” Chekov said. 

“Ready for warp, captain,” Sulu said. 

“Impulse power until we’re out of Vulcan’s range, Mr. Sulu. Then take us away,” Kirk said. The ship hummed and beeped and sang around him as his orders were followed, and he watched the stars shift through the viewscreen ahead until the ship leapt to warp and they smeared into blurry streaks of light. 

Ad astra per amorem; and onward.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Martha and Tommy's first child, a daughter, is named Natalya. Giotto and his wife Miriam get to buy their house in Cairo, where they make up for the time they didn’t have. Janice and Kathleen Lee, along with Admiral April, have their work cut out for them. It’s ugly, and Elise does not let go without a fight--- but when it’s over, Lee will ask Janice to marry her. Sulu and Dr. Khan had a great time working together. When Sulu is offered his own command down the line, he takes her with him as his science officer. And Kirk and Spock, of course, live happily ever after.