#the doctor saying he hasn’t had any children yet

[rowanthestrange]

I think it would be fitting with The Themes if when Missy referred to “her daughter” that one time, the daughter in question is indeed the Doctor’s, and because of all the emotional turmoil surrounding that he just dissociated that fact straight out of his mind.

[trustmypoison]

LMLY - Epilogue

Choi Y/N hasn’t seen her long lost best friend Yoon Jeonghan in four years and doesn’t even recognize at first him when paramedics roll him into the OR after a motorcycle accident during her shift. She kind of expects to go back being total strangers as soon as he’s discharged, but Seungcheol has something to say about that when he asks them to be Best Man and Maid of Honor for his wedding. 

You can find the masterlist here.

LMLY is the sequel to Calico. You don’t need to read Calico to follow along with most of this story, but it will make things more enjoyable if you do. 

Genres: fluff; angst; smut; best friends to strangers to lovers; wedding au

Pairing: Jeonghan x female reader

TW/CW: MDNI, contains explicit smut, some tough family dynamics such as divorce, a lot of marriage and wedding talk, mentions of having children, mentions of depression, mentions of manipulative relationships, quite a few details about accidents and subsequent medical procedures and issues. 

A/N: I am not in the medical field, so please forgive any inaccuracies included in this story. 

Word count: 900

This is a repost of a previous fic I did. It was one of the first fics that I ever posted on here and I wish I had made some different choices aesthetically. The content will be the same, it will just be a little prettier and more readable.

Y/N groans, placing her head on her forearms. Jeonghan lightly strokes her back until she’s ready to sit up. He lets her wipe her mouth with the wad of toilet paper he hands her. “Do you think that’s it?” 

“Yeah, I hope so,” Y/N says pitifully. “I’m sorry for ruining the trip.”

“Angel, you didn’t ruin anything. Maybe it’ll pass and we can go out and enjoy our time tomorrow,” Jeonghan insists for the fifth time tonight. “Ready to move?” When she nods, he helps her off the bathroom floor, closing the toilet lid and flushing once she’s up. He hands her a cup of water to rinse her mouth, and then her tooth brush already prepped with toothpaste. He rubs her back gently as she finishes up, and then he’s leading her out of the bathroom and to the couch. He plops another log onto the fire in the fireplace. It had nearly gone out in the time they’d been in the bathroom. 

He goes about the room to do a few more things, before coming back to her side and handing her a glass of water. When she finishes it, he takes it from her and pulls her feet into his lap, letting her lie back with her head on the arm of the couch. “Something you want to tell me?” He’s smirking.

Y/N sighs, covering her face. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“Angel,” Jeonghan chuckles. “I’ve known something was up for a couple weeks now. And you not having any wine today would have been the biggest sign of all.” 

“I didn’t want to ruin our anniversary, and we’d already booked the winery,” Y/N says miserably. 

“It is a little bit pointless to come to a winery if you can’t drink wine, angel. We come here every year, we could break tradition every now and then.” Jeonghan huffs a laugh before turning serious. “When did you find out?”

Y/N sighed again. “I took the test last week. I was late and hadn’t been feeling great.”

“I haven’t missed any doctor’s appointments yet, right?” Jeonghan asks urgently. When Y/N shakes her head, he sighs. “You’re okay with this?” He asks carefully.

She’s peeking at him from between her fingers. “I am. Are you?”

“Of course. We’d have a dozen already if it were physically possible to take care of all of them,” Jeonghan says and it earns him a kick in the stomach. “I’m kidding. You know that,” he laughs. 

“Let’s try three kids first and see how we do.”

Jeonghan hums, looking at the fire. “Iseul and Dohyun will be so excited to have a baby sister.”

Another kick lands in his stomach. “First of all, they’re two. They have no concept of that yet. A baby’s just going to show up and they’ll be confused. Second of all, it’s way too early to know it’s a girl. I’m not even showing yet.”

“You really are pregnant. You were so violent when you were pregnant with the twins,” Jeonghan teases, this time holding her feet in place. “I know it’s too early, but I just have a feeling, okay? Iseul needs a little sister.”

“Or Dohyun needs a baby brother,” Y/N counters.

“Eh, we’ll see in a few months, won’t we?” Jeonghan hums. He looks at his wife carefully. “Come here.” He ushers her gently to sit up and crawl into his lap. He grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and throws it over them. He feels her relax against him and he kisses the top of her head. “I love you. And I’m so lucky to have you. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

“I love you too. But Hannie, you tell me that nearly every day,” she giggles into his chest. 

“Then I should be saying it every single day instead. Maybe even multiple times a day.” When her giggles die down, he grabs her chin gently, making her look up at him. “Are you happy?” Y/N nods and he pecks her lips. “Okay.”

[nerdieforpedro]

It’s Worth The Paper It’s Written On

Chapter Six of A Safe Place for Us

Dieter Bravo x Aisha Smith (plus size OFC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Aisha looks over the papers Dieter gave her and has an answer for him. Also, a trip!

Warnings: Paperwork!, mean oldies (just the one), oral (male receiving), Zoom call, doctor’s appointments, medical jargon (possibly inaccuracies because Mother/Baby was the class I got a C on in nursing school 👀 I like caring for adults. They can tell me yes or no. Kids can’t and you gotta argue science with parents.), a happy surprise

Word Count: about 2.8k

Notes: So turns out I had posted chapter five, it was chapter six I didn’t post. 😎 Whew, memory is a funny thing. So chapter seven should be next month and a I’m going to try for a monthly schedule. I make no promises as inspiration is fickle.

Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ Main Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Aisha says nothing for a full hour. She’s reading, highlighting, circling, letting out soft hums and flipping pages. All the while sipping her coffee and ignoring Dieter’s pacing.

He’s second guessing doing this, he should have just kept things cool, maybe continue to take her lead on the situation. “Hell no.” He mutters to himself. Who knows what that would have led to? Dieter knows from his wealth of failed relationships that certain things need to be in writing, especially concerning kids and pets. Well, in this case primarily kids, he doubts Aisha will want to take Cookie, his spotted goat, away from him. Dieter then announces that he is going to take a walk outside.

He had to come back as he forgot a shirt and to put his crocs on, but left again.

Aisha on the other hand is stunned at the level of detail put into the document which is essentially stating how involved Dieter wants to be with their child and it would apply to any future children they had. There’s different rules and levels for when he’s in between roles and on location or on press tours. That she would need to bring the child along and be present so they would have equal time with them. There was a long list of private schools in California and New York and that the choice was up to her depending on which would suit her writing career best. It also stipulated that the more children they had and the longer they remained living together, she was entitled to a larger monthly stipend, which started out at four grand a month when the paperwork was signed.

What threw a wrench in her thought process was toward the end, it mentioned a college fund or trust dependent if the kid decided to go to school or just enter the workforce, but after that was that Aisha would have to live with Dieter, agree to staff coming to the house to keep him apprised of her health as well as their baby and in the event that he had an untimely demise, she would oversee all financial decisions concerning his estate and their child’s trust. A final addition had included that this would all stand no matter if they married or not but it would be null and void if Aisha decided to have a child with someone else. She circled that part and wrote next to it, only if I was criminally insane and hell froze over.

Rationally, she understands why he feels he has to have his team, she assumes, draw up such paperwork. Dieter is a public figure and one that’s had people try and steal from him by any means. She isn’t a fan of a monthly payment just for living with Dieter, but it might be his way of making up for her losing her apartment which she’s immeasurably fond of. He likely had that in mind when he brought it up the other day. Since he hasn’t returned from his walk yet, she calls him. “Dieter you haven’t got lost in your own neighborhood have you?”

Rolling his eyes as he watches some older woman in a yellow track suit walking a poodle and eyeing him like he doesn’t belong, he flips her the bird as she stomps away, “Nope. I did give the finger to this old woman looking at me like I’m a round peg in a square in my own damn neighborhood. She’s one of those that would calm the cops for dumb shit.” He pauses a beat, “You finished reading? Anything you wanna ask?” The older woman yells some obscenities while her dog barks at its owner’s behavior. Dieter pays no mind and starts circling the tree he’s standing next to, trying to work off some of his anxiety. “First impression at least, give me something Aisha. Any direction you might be heading with it.”

“My first impression is that this is a hellova document and a unique way to propose a life with someone. Most people do it in bed, with a ring, over dinner, a trip or actually talk about it first.” The light tone she’s using helps Dieter relax, she’s not scared at least. “You know this is my neighborhood and not yours right?”

“I’m not most people Scribbles and neither are you. Plus I’d best lock you down before you get tired of me and decide on some other method of getting a kid.” There’s a gasp and a pause. Did he just stick his foot in his mouth? Quite likely. The older woman in yellow has returned with a younger man in a red track suit who’s shaking a fist at him. Dieter gives them both middle fingers and starts back toward Aisha’s place. He’s here often enough it should be his neighborhood too.

“Come back Dieter. I need to talk to you in person and not over the phone.” Aisha stands and meets Dieter at her apartment door where he rushes in and hangs up the phone. He describes the older woman and Aisha laughs knowing that woman hates everyone. “Glad you made it away from her. She needs to retire somewhere.”

“So what else did you think besides it being a bad way to propose?” Dieter kicks his crocs off at the door and plops down on her couch, Aisha takes a seat next to him and pats his thigh, she then cups his face and speaks.

“Dieter, I’ve chosen to have a baby with you. We've been having sex damn near every day and often several times a day. I don’t plan on having a kid with anyone else. I told you I love you, you big goofball. I don’t have an issue with moving in with you. I’m already locked in. I promise.” Dieter runs his hands along her forearms and down her sides to try and move her onto his lap but she shakes him off. Dieter’s face contorts with confusion but Aisha grabs a pillow off the couch and kneels in front of him and tugs at his pants. “You’re also letting me suck your dick before your afternoon zoom meeting. She needs an afternoon off but she’ll be ready tonight.”

“Fuck…no objections here Aisha.” Dieter’s more than happy to allow his pajama pants down to his ankles and watched as Aisha moved between his legs, placing a hand on each thigh, her lips kiss the tip of his hardening dick. She sticks her tongue out and runs it along the bottom toward the base, moaning the entire time. Bravo hasn’t seen this side of Aisha and is keen to see more. He reaches for her and she intertwines her fingers with each of his.

“Just watch and enjoy Dee. Be good for me?” Her eyes peer up at him to watch him slowly nod while she moves her mouth down a bit further to nibble at a spot between his cock and his heavy balls. Dieter can’t help but throw his head back and groan her name, pressing on her hands. He wants to put his fingers in her hair, on her neck, cheeks, but she won’t allow him to. Aisha is being purposeful in her restriction. She’s going off what she’s writing rather than experience, she’d rather not her neck hurt in addition to her cunt. It won’t be a sweet ache from how rough she knows men can be. Hearing him trying to bite his lip and hold back is something she’s unaccustomed to as Dieter is more all or nothing. She finds him attractive in this manner too.

Using her nose to glide along the base of his cock, Aisha kisses his head once more before sticking her tongue out to drool along his shaft. Dieter’s got a fair bit of precum, but it’s dripping on her breasts, dress and thighs. With an audible “Omhp!” She swallows a third of his length letting it sit in her mouth, warming it. Dieter in the meantime, has let out a string of curses, feels his hips sputtering and is apologizing for not being able to keep still. Aisha chuckles when she makes eye contact with him again. His pained expression at failing to control himself after she told him to ‘be good’ and that he’s begging her to start sucking. He feels the throbbing in his balls and he knows that it won’t be too long. A pop is heard as Aisha lets his dick fall from her mouth.

“I forgot to ask Dieter. Did you want to paint my breasts, face or the inside of my mouth?” Her question is followed by using her tongue to grab some precum that’s leaking from his tip. Dieter’s lips are quivering, he can’t think straight and he’s dry heaving in panic that if he doesn’t answer she'll stop and he’ll be on Zoom like this.

“Mouth, I-I-Inside your mouth. And swallow please. Just don’t stop Ai. Fuck me…when the hell were you like…” His hips jut toward her as she just smiles and nods, wordlessly taking him back into her mouth and bobbing her head. “Damn! Your mouth nearly feels as good as your pussy…I’m damn lucky she needed a time out….” Aisha snorted at Bravo’s ramblings while she tried to take more of him in her mouth, she was able to make it a little more than halfway before the urge to gag was too much. She hollowed out her cheeks while Dieter’s small rolls of his hips forced himself deeper into her mouth and he finally spilled down her throat with a growl. Aisha gulped three times before letting his softening dick hang. She made sure to lick their combined mess from his cock, balls and thighs before finally letting go of his hands.

Immediately, Dieter cupped Aisha’s cheeks and nibbled at her lips, getting her to open her mouth so he could taste her saliva and his come. “We always taste good together, Ai.” He slid down onto the floor and pressed his body against hers. He hadn’t been able to feel anything except her hands and mouth so he wanted more. Dieter always wants more. As he swallowed some of the spend that had been in Aisha’s mouth, he looked down at her panting face. Her caramel skin has a damp sheen over it, he laid his head on her shoulder. “We’re good together.” Aisha’s fingers scratch Dieter’s scalp and cradle his head, she lets out a “mmhm.” In agreement. The pair help each other off the floor and Dieter goes to do his Zoom call.

There was a question of what had dried in his beard, but Dieter said that he was saving it for later and Aisha snickered from the room.

The following week saw Dieter, Aisha and their lawyers sit down to iron out the contract that Dieter had presented Aisha with. It stayed the same, except for that part that mentioned if she had a baby with someone else. She wanted that part removed because like she told Dieter, she wasn’t planning on it. Things were notarized and signed with a trip to a few houses in LA that were for sale. Aisha was still coming around to the notion that she’d have to move, but was becoming more open to it.

Next month, they flew and looked in New York. Dieter took Aisha to a few shows while there and she was asked to consult on a production of “Cats” for their script. It wasn’t something she normally did but she found it fun and challenging. It had been quite awhile since Dieter had seen her working with scripts but it brought him back to when they first met and her being in writer’s rooms.

While staying in NY and getting accustomed to taking the subway and looking at houses, Dieter noticed that Aisha was getting up early in the morning so he followed to the bathroom and ensured she had a warm washcloth to clean her face. The nausea she had off and on was normal depending on what she smelled for years but the vomiting started last week before they flew out to NY. Dieter was upset that Aisha hadn’t mentioned anything but more than that he was worried. “Are there going to be other things you don’t tell me about? You’ve got to be honest with me Aisha.”

Aisha hadn’t wanted to ruin the trip. It’s been years since she’d been to New York and it’s her first trip with Dieter. She just wanted to enjoy it being the two of them a bit longer, rather than worrying about their expected third they’ve been working hard to make. The fact that she thought that at all was why she felt ashamed, like it was wrong to enjoy time alone with Dieter because she is the one who asked him to have a baby with her. Considering how much she’s enjoyed the process of trying for a baby, she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to allow herself to enjoy other parts of the experience. “I know I sound completely insane Dee. I swear I make no sense sometimes.”

Dieter walks her back to the bed and they lay down while he is her big spoon. “You’re not insane. Just scared to be happy. Honestly, I am too. We just have to learn how to enjoy things while they’re happening.” He kisses the back of her neck and she sighs.

“You’re right, Dieter. Let’s get some sleep. We’re going to see more places tomorrow right? I’ll call tomorrow morning and see if I can move up my OBGYN appointment to the week we get back.”

“Yeah we will, but I think we can’t wait to see your OBGYN at home. We should find one here.”

Bravo insisted on going and Aisha agreed, she did still call her OBGYN to let them know and to get their fax numbers and such so things could be sent over from NY. Seeing Aisha in stirrups led to several jokes about horses and if he should get something like this put in the house. Aisha was against the idea of seeing stirrups outside of a doctor’s office. So far, vitals, blood work and urine tests were good with the doctor and nurse entering the room with grins on their faces and telling Aisha not to get dressed yet.

“So Ms. Smith, it looks like from your urine, you’re pregnant! We’ll do an ultrasound to confirm and see how far along you are. You and your partner need to make sure that you’re going to all your appointments.”

Aisha was in shock, it only took three months? Initially when she had discussed the issue with her OBGYN, the doctor had said it could take up to a year since she’s starting later in life and is overweight. She looked over at Dieter who was sitting very still. It seemed the reality was hitting them both, there’s now a baby. Especially, after the nurse and doctor spread that cold jelly on her stomach and there’s a small heartbeat with a woosh sound. Aisha is laid across the table with Dieter kissing her forehead and holding her hand. She looks up at the screen on the ultrasound machine and sees a small big-headed kidney bean shape.

It’s there. Their baby is there. Looks totally weird, like it could be on the X-files but it’s there. Their baby.

Chapter Five Chapter Seven

Peeps who are looking for the truth in kidney beans 🫘: @readingiskeepingmegoing @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @schnarfer @yorksgirl @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @survivingandenduring

@pascalsanctuary @harriedandharassed @baronessvonglitter

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

YESS I LOVE WHEN YOU DO THIS!!!

🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️

Thank you I’m so excited!!

THANK YOU! I love doing this.

Here are 21 new sentences for 🌿:

( @goldenbcnes )

---

Eddie doesn’t say a word about what’s happened with Buck and Maddie when he gets to work. 

He’s still at the 118; he’s Hen’s lead paramedic these days. Chim has long since moved to a teaching position at the Fire Academy. So, from the 118 team of old, only Eddie, Hen, and Ravi remain. Given how closer and interwoven their lives still are, Hen might very well already know from Chim about Buck and Maddie’s argument, might already have her own opinions. It’s not for Eddie to bring it up. 

Besides, Eddie feels off about the whole thing. He feels like Buck and Maddie have stepped directly into some sort of trap. No one was fighting before their parents came. No one had any tension. Eddie has seen firsthand Margaret Buckley’s vitriol. Maybe he’s being ridiculous, given that she’s sick. Maybe it’s Eddie’s own history of quiet mental chess with his own parents bubbling to the surface. But they’re in town for two days with an agenda of accessing care from their estranged children, and already, they’ve divided and conquered. 

Eddie is unsure how to approach this train of thought. He has decided to take time to think it through. He doesn’t want to make things worse for Buck or Nico. Or Maddie, Chim, and Jee.

Which is why it turns out to be a stroke of good fortune when Chim shows up at the station between calls. 

He does this sometimes. So does Bobby.

---

24 for 🩸:

---

If this is what Eddie is dealing with, then Buck will become the fucking expert. 

He’s been home from the hospital for about twelve hours. He’s feeling disgusting - caged and unlike himself - but mostly fine. The blood loss related lethargy is fading, replaced simply by emotional lethargy. The wounds on his neck are healing faster than he might have expected. It hardly even hurts anymore. It’s just a scab overtop lightly bruised skin. The doctors said there will probably be two small puncture mark scars. Buck might be glad for them, for the proof that Eddie isn’t really gone, if he doesn’t suspect they will give people a reason to look at him twice. 

Tommy brought him home, to the loft. It reminds him of when Ali brought him back after his leg was crushed. Though he’s far less dependent on Tommy for help than he was on her, then. He’s in far less pain. But he feels just as singular minded now as he had then. Then, the target was getting back to work. 

It’s a little different now.

Tommy hasn’t left and Buck wishes he would. Not because he’s done anything particularly wrong, but because he can’t trust him with this. He can’t trust anyone with this, not yet. But he needs to process that all the same, so he needs to be alone. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t go about it the best way. 

“What do you want for lunch?” Tommy asks, while Buck is planted in front of the TV, watching ongoing news coverage. “I can order us something.”

---

And 15 for ✉️:

---

Dear Chris,

Do you like the sea turtle stamp? I know you do. Anyway, I had to send you this one today, because we had a call at the museum! Isn’t that cool? Okay, well not cool for the guy who got impaled when a mammoth display fell over, but in general, cool.

He’s okay! Remains to be seen for the mammoth. But, that means, I got to TOUCH the mammoth skeleton. With gloves. And very carefully. And only when Hen and Chim said I could. But still. Your dad got to lift up the tusk! It looked kind of badass, I won’t lie.

Bet you’re jealous! We can go when you’re back and I’ll show you what bones I got to touch.

---

[meguwumibear]

Give Us Each Day

pairing: wolfwood x reader word count: 1,300

This is just a short little drabble I wrote because I literally cannot stop thinking about Nicholas D. Wolfwood and wanted to explore his character a bit. Ignore the pacing and any errors/typos lol I don’t think there are any spoilers about anything in this, but i do briefly touch on Wolfwood’s past and his connection to the Eye of Michael. 

The thing about people is they aren’t capable of change.

Wolfwood has seen enough of No Man’s Land and its citizens to understand this. It’s a dog eat dog, big fish eat little fish world out there. Humans are lost causes. Especially adults. They sin and they sin and they sin.

Maybe children are exempt from this. Maybe not. He tries not to think too hard about his own childhood, about what he did and did not have.

He did not have parents. Or, rather, he had no relationship with them. He understands that for him to have been born, one of the planet’s many deadbeat duds must have knocked someone up. Jesus himself was half flesh and blood on Mary’s side. No one can escape a mother’s womb. So, yeah, okay, someone conceived and gave birth to him, but that’s about all his parents are to him. A sperm donor and an incubator. Nothing more.

What he did have was siblings. Lots of them. Brothers and sisters from December and neighboring towns. He was the eldest of all the children at the orphanage. He did what he could to look out for the others, sleeping in their beds with them when they had nightmares, teaching them how to whistle, kissing their fucking booboos. For a while, Wolfwood thinks that he was born to be a brother. And maybe he was. Maybe on a different planet, in a different universe, the ships don’t crash and a brother is all he ever has to be.

On this planet though, he becomes something else entirely. An orphan. A priest. A punisher.

Wolfwood is only human after all, despite everything, including all the fucking drugs the doctor pumped him full of. He forgets sometimes just how young he really is. So many of his formative years passed him in an instance. He just grew and grew and grew into the monster man he is today.

A man made monster. A monster made man. Or are those two things one and the same?

He gets confused sometimes. Can’t understand the difference. Perhaps a monster is a type of man or a man a type of monster. They’re related somehow. They must be. He knows this because he is both. Or at least both of those two creatures live symbiotically inside him.

That’s why the Eye of Michael sends him on these types of missions; that’s why they sent him on this mission: he is a monstrosity and a mortal. The best person for this particular job. To guide and protect Knives’ precious baby brother until Vash is ripe for the taking. Knives says they call his brother Vash the Humanoid Typhoon, but to Wolfwood he’s just an ignorant lamb inching closer to slaughter.

The Eye may call him the Punisher, but this job makes him feel more like a shepherd.

He hasn’t found the Typhoon yet. There are too many leads to follow. Towns are filled with unfounded rumors and listless gossip. No one seems to know what Vash even looks like. Some people think he’s twelve feet tall. Other people think he has a mohawk.

Wolfwood knows this all to be false because he knows exactly what Vash looks like. He’s seen him—or rather he’s seen his monozygotic twin. Vash will look exactly like Knives in another man’s clothes. He’s been preparing himself for the sight.

With no end to this wild goose chase in sight, Wolfwood stops at a saloon. The townsfolk here seem to think that Vash passed through two nights ago, but the place is in too good of shape for that to be true. Good shape in No Man’s Land is relative of course, but there’s no way a typhoon hit this city. All the buildings are still standing, crooked and cracked from the dry desert air.

He’s a heavy weight. He thinks it has something to do with the drug they shoot him up with. It helps his cells heal or regenerate or some shit. It takes more liquor than it should to get him drunk which means blacking out is a luxury he can’t afford. He’s five beers deep before he finally starts to feel a little buzzed.

Days he’s more man than monster, he plays a little game with himself. He finds someone who looks like they could be his mother or father and makes up a story about their lives after they abandoned him. He imagines they get rich selling water. He imagines they lost everything in a drought. He wonders if it was worth it. He supposes life’s always easier with one less mouth to feed.

Tonight he feels a bit more monster than man. The hunt is starting to get to him. He’s down to his last cigarette and if he doesn’t find Vash soon Knives will inevitably send him on a job he’ll hate more than this one. The waiting makes him feel itchy. Or maybe that’s just the nicotine withdraw.

“Need a light?”

He hasn’t lit the cigarette yet. Just has it tucked between his lips. He’s been chewing on the tip of it a bit—a bad habit he developed once he started smoking, but hey it kept him away from his fingernails.

“Please,” he says. He’s got his own lighter tucked away in his jacket pocket. It’s unclear to him which part of him makes him lie. Could be the man, could be the monster. In his experience, they both get quite lonely.

You strike up a match and hold it out for him. He leans in, cups a hand around the flame and inhales. The acrid taste of something burned and bitter fills his lungs. This has always felt right to him. The burning. Fire is just as cleansing as water.

“You a drifter?”

“What gave me away?” he asks.

You smile as you grab his empty bottles. “You’re a priest, right? Town priest skipped out ages ago. Said the land was forsaken and that nothing holy could grow here. Interesting last words considering he was the one doing the all forsaking. There’s holiness here. In the sand and sky and people.”

Wolfwood slides the cigarette out from between his lips and exhales a bit of smoke.

“What gave me away,” he asks again, flicking soot onto the table.

You shoot him a look, eyebrows raised. “Who else would carry around a cross like that?”

He hums. “Didn’t see a church on my way in.”

You’re smiling again. “You’re sitting in it. After the father skipped out it was converted to this saloon. People can take communion any time now. Not just during Sunday prayer.”

Someone at the back of the bar calls your name, yells something to you about doing your job, so you finish clearing away his table with a roll of your eyes.

A few minutes later, you bring him a beer that he didn’t ask for and certainly isn’t going to pay for.

“You devout? You looking for me to say some kind of prayer?”

You shake your head and laugh. “Oh no, I’m not a believer. Just doing my job. Gotta keep my patrons happy. Drink up.”

He wraps his hand around the bottle. It’s warm. Condensation has gathered on it’s slick surface. He swipes at it with a thumb. “I think I’ve had my fair share of alcohol. Was thinking of graduating to something headier.”

“Oh,” you say, resting your elbows against the table. “And just what were you thinking of graduating to?”

Wolfwood feels the smirk form on his face, wide and toothy and dangerous. You’re a distraction from his mission, but he can’t ignore the yearnings of the man and monster inside of him. Right now their desires align. Right now they’re hungry. Right now they want.

“You.”

[darkonekrisrewrite]

Ochako is Different

(Current Chapter Spoilers) It’s a little early to make this but I had to.

‘If Toga still wants to talk to her, she’s willing to give her her own blood for the rest of her life.’

“I want to talk about love with you, himiko-chan!”

‘She won’t support everything she does from now on’

‘The world isn’t ideal (comfortable?) for people like her’

It’s almost exactly what I wanted, but it’s still totally perfect.

This Chapter is great for Toga and Ochako, and perfect for Ochako’s development.

In fact I’d say that this puts Ochako over the top of what’s been shown to be heroic in bnha.

Because while Ochako doesn’t really side with Toga fully, which is understandable from her point of view but she does pretty much say that Toga won’t be killed or locked up to rot because of the promise she makes to her.

This implies a long term plan/commitment and freedom, the first part obviously stated that neither Ochako or Toga herself want her death and the second part because there’s no way Toga would ever accept such a thing from inside a cage.

“Living Free” being an essential part of Toga’s character that wouldn’t just be ignored and doesn’t seem to be on Ochako’s viewpoint, with her saying:  ‘She won’t support everything she does from now on’

“From now on” implying Toga will have the freedom to choose.

This answer from a hero to a villain might really change things, or at least have the intent to change beginning here.

Ochako’s answer feels big enough for that, not only in her direct relationship with Toga but also on a much wider scale in her clearly stating that: The World isn’t ideal/comfortable for people like Toga.

This along with everything else she said makes her the best Hero in this series.

Even out of the Core Three Heroes.

Shoto Todoroki, a good, focused Hero, succeeding in everything he set out to do in bnha’s story, and also succeeded in becoming exactly the type of hero he wanted to be.

Be a Hero that puts others at ease? Nailed it.

Be like his friends who get mad and shed tears for others? Got it.

Protect his family and others? Even Dabi in a way? Total Victory.

A Perfect Score for Shoto, also his family, and all the innocent people that he saved.

But that’s it.

Shoto still hasn’t taken any kind of wider view on Dabi/Endeavor/his family or hero society, even though he’s had more than enough time to think about it.

He never came to the larger realization that: “Hmm, actually the fact that Endeavor was able to buy Mom like a broodmare, consult with doctors plainly about his intentions regarding his children, have one of them literally die, another be clearly scarred and his wife sent to a mental institution and yet despite all that…no one (Hero/Government/Civilian) says or does shit…that might be a problem too?”

Shoto is definitely a Hero; he’s just not quite seeing the big picture when he really needs to.

Deku on the other hand isn’t even close.

Because while he does inspire others, he has yet to actually help them himself.

Gentle criminal, Lady Nagant and Overhaul are all ‘Villains’ that Deku has interacted with and changed but, when talking about direct actions, he never helped any of them or even acknowledged their negative points about hero society other than giving a single platitude.

Gentle Criminal had heroic aspirations from the start, despite being hurt multiple times by hero society; he still chose to do the right thing.

Whether or not that really works out for him in the end is yet to be seen but he still did it, and on his own.

Deku never tried to help Gentle or even find out what happened to him or La Brava after their fight, despite emphasizing with him and their struggles.

Nagant was in some way, like Gentle, inspired by Deku, just in her case it was taken to a somewhat unbelievable degree.

“Extend a helping Hand” is not an answer to the fact that hero society was assassinating innocent people who threatened the status quo.

But Nagant is fighting on the hero side now so I guess it was answer enough for her.

But from a wider story perspective Deku didn’t address anything.

Overhaul is one of the darkest villains in the series, with what he did to Eri.

But Deku still made him a promise, to bring Overhaul to his ‘Father’ (figure) if he was willing to regret what he did.

He didn’t.

I mean, if we had jumped right into the next war in only a few moments after this point then I would understand Deku not having enough time to make good on his word but there was a lot of down time in-between.

Was Deku actually serious about the no-armed cripple Overhaul having to regret his actions before he was taken to see his comatose Father?

That’s kind of messed up when you really think about it.

Was Deku planning on doing it anyway, just at some undetermined point in the Future?

We don’t know, it was never brought up again.

It makes anything that Deku’s going to say to Shigaraki seem a bit Hollow because there’s no past foundation to hold up his word to, on a personal or societal level.

Vague promises on top of other promises that haven’t been fulfilled is not a good look for a Hero.

While it is true that this may change later, it may lack impact and believable commitment, coming in a bit late on Shoto’s part and with Deku’s loyalty to hero society at odds with everything Shigaraki is.

But Ochako isn’t like that.

Ochako

She recognized that there was a problem (though eventually) after seeing clear signs of it and looked at everything involved.

Toga’s Quirk and her tears, how she felt about love and the world around her.

Also with her experience in dealing with the “innocent” people at UA high and how they treated Deku.

Have to believe that too had an effect on her decision and reasoning to try to understand Toga, in how she was made a villain currently.

She may not really understand Toga in everything, but Ochako is still saying all the right things, addressing what she knows about Toga and how society has treated her.

No other hero has done that yet and followed through.

Because Ochako didn’t just say: “You have a point, but you know morality.” Then try to punch Toga in the face or overpower her into submission.

She said: “You have a point, but you know morality, so I will personally help you in the way you need.”

Immediately trying to do just that and saying she’ll continue to in the future.

‘If Toga still wants to talk to her, she’s willing to give her her (Ochako’s) own blood for the rest of her life.’

That’s a Hero. And what a real Hero would do.

It really was just that simple of someone offering her Blood, that specific someone showing that they cared and telling Toga that she wasn’t a monster or a deviant.

And Toga accepting Ochako’s feelings would make sense as this is everything she ever wanted-

BUT-

The only hang up is how Ochako would then deal with Hero Society after this, because they are definitely not going to be on board with her choice, even though it’s part of the only option/path forward that could save their world.

And with the inherent flaws/corruption in the hero system and the Quirk Singularity, Ochako’s choice is undeniably the start of the only path that could save bnha’s world.

So yeah Ochako is actually doing Amazing so far.

[moonchats]

MY SPENCER HEADCANONS

(which are canon cos i said so(also a lot dont align to what we know as canon, like i talk a lot about stuff that includes technology but shhh let me have my fun))

fav ice cream flavour is vanilla, but not any of the posh vanilla with the dots in, has to be the cheap shit because the flavour doesn’t get boring after a couple spoons

he never actually ties his top shirt button up he just tightens his tie enough so it looks tied because it hurts his throat

loves cultural food, like any religion or country he’s took an interest in that week he makes sure to try a dish from there

fucking loves spiderman

loves jodie whitticker as the thirteenth doctor because he loved the storyline and got upset when he realised everyone hated her

didn’t realise he was bisexual because he didn’t realise that it wasn’t ‘normal’ to like boys too

LOVES CHILDRENS FANTASY LIKE ANY WORLD BUILDING FANTASY OR DYSTOPIAN HE FUCKING LOVES

sorry i was really passionate about that. also his fav colour is lavender but he makes everything he owns green (like phone cases, notebooks etc) cos he chose that as his dedicated colour when he was younger

he didn’t like jumpers or cardigans for ages because didn’t like the feeling of the toughness of the wool and then he realised clothes have different materials and he realised he hated microfibre because fuck microfibre everyone should hate microfibre

i know we know he likes classical music but i think he loves romantic music of any kind, like as long as it’s romantic he loves it, like romantic goth,classical,pop anything cos my like bbygirl is such a romance girly at heart

is an avid converse wearer/collector

journals like hell, like every thought he thinks he writes it down

tells hotch he’s in therapy but actually he just talks to himself in the mirror and says that’s enough

likes matpat and game theory (because he’s autistic?? i have yet to meet a fellow neurodivergent that hasn’t had a game theory phase)

once had a stim which was just jacksepticeyes intro and derek thoight he was speaking another language because his irish accent was so bad

writes in-depth character analysis’ on his favourite characters and posts them and once one of them was so well detailed it was literally used more as a guide than canon (like atyd has with the marauders)

fucking adored rent because he’s a theatre kid at heart because i said so

[apphiarothowrites]

I’m back for no reason other than I want to share this sort of idea and I am too swamped to even begin writing

Marco doesn’t know how he ended up on the thousand sunny.

That’s a lie, logically he knows. Luffy had come up to him after the battle and asked him. Then perhaps, ask is a strong word… Luffy had catapulted into the region of his arms and twisted around him like a jungle python. Marco is not sure if he actually heard the words ‘join my crew’ as he was rapidly losing consciousness due to asphyxiation.

Then he woke up on the sunny.

God they are so fucking young. Children really, maybe that’s why he hasn’t taken off yet. Put his zoan wings to use.

Luffy scampers around the deck, laughing madly as the cook attempts to punt him in the ocean.

Everyone is so bright in this ship and it crushes his sternum while filling his lungs with air.

“Strange isn’t it.”

The clattering or bones usually indicates brooks approach but, the skeleton can be annoyingly sneaky when he wants to be.

Delicate phalanges press a cup of tea in Marco’s empty hands.

“You remember being that young?”

The blonde man stares into the amber liquid completely lost. He didn’t remember, not really. Flashes of his mother’s sash, ink stained books that seemed so large to his small hands, a foggy memory of a rocky shore.

“I think most of it was lost to time.” He shares with a wry grin.

Brook clicks his tongue? Does he still have that? “Time, time, time, time. If there ever was a god he was the one who hung the clock.” The skeleton hums. “Are you staying for Ace?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you love him.”

Marco pauses, letting the memories wash over him. The smell of smoke, the raucous laughter. “I didn’t, not yet anyway.”

The sea breeze picks up, heavy with salt.

“I used to play the violin for my husband every day.”

The skeleton is looking at some point beyond the horizon.

“Did he like the violin?”

“Not at all.”

—

The most important thing Marco has learned while travelling with the straw hats is that none of them (with exception to Jinbe and possibly Brook) have ever had any kind of sane adult to care for them.

Don’t get him wrong, bellemere seems like she was a good lady and lord knows he has visited the floating restaurant a couple times. But for the love of god if finds zoro trying to work out one more time he will have a chat with mihawk.

Honestly he’ll have a good long talk with crocodile too while he’s there, Robin seems to hold herself together with spiderwebs. Not surprising given ohara, but the whole warlords tool thing obviously made it worse.

In two weeks of sailing with the strawhats marco has a goddamn list of people. Including Zeff (marco is very very tired of the nosebleeds.)

Weirdly enough the most stable person is literally a cyborg, then again Tom was a fucking angel on earth and Marco wished he had stuck around longer to write a book on parenting.

Luffy calls him the reserve doctor.

Marco doesn’t call him captain.

“Well obviously.” Luffy had pointed out when Marco had haltingly tried to approach the conversation. “I’m not your dad.”

“But I am sailing under you aren’t I?”

“Yeah.” Brown eyes blinked at him slowly. “But I’m not your dad.”

Marco bites his tongue and wonders how long it would take to explain his very weird existence. Too long he decides and just gives a brief nod. “No, you’re not.”

—

A long time ago two children played on a rocky shore, laughing as the waves lapped at their ankles.

—

It’s slow, marco sails, flys. Leaves for weeks on end only to return in the heat of battle. He tracks down Whitey and spends a good week crying into his sisters pillow. Sanji challenges him to a duel for robins hand and he kicks the cook into the ocean. He should really talk to Zeff…. His brothers are here and there, sometimes he looks sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he joins Jinbei for meditation. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that he drinks coffee while the fish man finds inner peace.

He does end up meeting the cross guild (it’s shanks fault.) getting dragged to an “important” meeting by a yonko begging you to pretend to be his husband is.. not as ego boosting as you would think. Shanks flirts and preens and marco doesn’t even know who he’s trying to impress. (He doesn’t want to know.)

Even so.. the small movements, the way mihakw floats beside crocodiles hook. The low murmur as buggy leans into hear what the scarred man said. It makes marco believe that maybe love isn’t a one time thing (except if your shanks)

Oh god this is so long cliff notes time

Marco is kinda immortal he has a rebirth cycle and can semi remember what he has lived through

Sanji gets many seminars on respecti ‘n women

Zoro gets many seminars on “stop fighting when injured”

Luffy is luffy

The phoenix and nika are kind of drawn to eachother (not romantically but they have similar domains or something)

Tom is best dad

Brook is the straight out of jail uncle

Nami and marco are distant (she doesn’t want a dad thank you)

Dr chopper dr law and dr marco hang out

Idk bout romance in here it’s mainly found family (Cora is alive though so ya know..)

The central plot that was not conveyed at all is basically marco wanted this to be his last cycle (with his dad and stuff) but because of everything he missed his chance (idk mystic bullshit yadda yadda) so he has to learn to live again or something

Might have kizaru join the straw hats)

Idk my semi vision was

Marco - the worst mental state

The strawhats - pretty decent mental states

Marco - omfg these children need so much therapy

#GiveMarcoABreak2024

I love this, there's so much potential in everything!!! no notes, perfection

luffy takes one look at marco after the final battle and goes "is nobody gunna found-family heal that?" but doesn't wait for an answer before just straight up taking him

marco relearning what wanting to love is from these idiots while Brook slowly learns exactly how old he is is Great tho

[whyisthereacentaur]

Modern Monsters 7: Frankenstein’s Monster

Another inspired by @purrlockholmesbooks’s request!

Real life got VERY busy this week, plus my mind just kept spawning lore for this guy and his creator, so when I sat down to write it, the ideas were getting in each other’s way like the Three Stooges in a doorway. Then I sat down to put it all in order for a post last night and fell asleep. Sorry >_<

Onwards!

Having existed for over 200 years, and the vast majority of that with a much less vocal conscience than he first started out with, Victor (last name dependent on which alias he was using at the time) created more than one monster.

After his original Creature resurrected Victor Frankenstein, only to effectively say, “Dad, I’m sorry about all of that, but seriously - never contact me again,” the doctor was left alone and lonely. He argued with himself about the ethical implications of what he might be putting any new creation through, as well as what he might unleash upon the world with its birth, as his knowledge and technological capabilities had only grown since then.

That only lasted about ten minutes before he moved on and started on his next project anyway.

All told, over the years, Victor’s built quite a dynasty. Literally. He never remembers exactly how many children he has, even though each one from the second onwards lived with him for at least a few years before striking out on their own. Their cohabitation was necessary for him to collect data on the relative success of each experiment, requiring lots of physical and mental testing and direct, extensive comparison of each against their siblings, which he would usually record by dictation in his test subject’s presence.

Victor is never sure why his children don’t seem to want to speak to him much.

The only one currently in very regular contact is the youngest, who Victor sacrificed some of his own tissue to build. Egotist that Victor is, this one is his very best attempt at a superhuman (so far) - a bit of cloning, a dash of modern prosthetics principles, a lot of gene manipulation, and a solid base of Victor’s own techniques have created a passably human creature with some hidden talents.

Victor’s parenting, if it can be called that, has created a passably functioning young adult with severe anxiety, people-pleasing tendencies, and self-worth issues. All the stress does make a person a bit scatty - he’d forget his head if it wasn’t screwed on, so he tries not to switch that particular body part around too often.

He does share his father’s love of knowledge for its own sake, and so has spent several years in his chosen university. He has changed his mind on what, exactly, he should focus his research on almost as often as he has switched up his detachable body parts. And he’s done that often, since Victor sent him off with a variety to choose from. University and the internet have allowed him to gather a circle of like-minded close friends, who would all tell you he is such a sweetheart; the type to give you the shirt off his back, or a kidney, if he thought you had the slightest need. He hasn’t mentioned his ability to regenerate entire organs to them just yet, though.

He donates at the same university hospital his dad works at, since his dad’s dedicated shifty-business team can be trusted to keep his real medical records under wraps and his real name off any “posthumous” donations.

His dad liked the idea of naming at least one of his children Frankie Stone, what with the Frankenstein name being impossible to use openly and the bloodline being otherwise dead. However, university is a time to reinvent oneself, and our student prefers to go by his middle name now.

He’s just always liked the sound of Shelley as a nickname.

~~~

Organ donor cards, understandably, don’t usually have loyalty stamps. One of the nicer shifty-business nurses presented Shelley with the Frankensteinian organ donor register/cafe loyalty scheme card monstrosity pictured here.

It could just be a bad photo, but I do like the bit of trivia that the monster in the book actually had yellowed skin rather than the green we now think of as traditional, so if you feel like Shelley has a bit of a sallow tint, I leave it to you to decide.

This was a “simple” illustration that took forEVERRRRR to sort out. I’m still figuring out half the tools on this app. Just pretend he takes really good care of this card since I didn’t have the energy left to make it look appropriately weathered.

~~~

If you read this far: thank you and hope you enjoyed it! I have one more instalment planned featuring Shelley and his dad, which will hopefully go up sometime in the next few days.

Oíche Shamhna shona daiobh!

Happy Halloween!

~~~

Modern Monsters series

Modern Monsters 1: Dullahan

Modern Monsters 2: Kelpie

Modern Monsters 3: Kuchisake-onna

Modern Monsters 4: Cuca

Modern Monsters 5: Vampire

Modern Monsters 6: Dr Frankenstein

Modern Monsters 7: Frankenstein’s Monster

Modern Monsters bonus: Frankenstein, Monster

[bisexualboysbroadcast]

okay, are you ready? here’s my be mine superstar melt:

1. I am unbearably obsessed with the personality “swop” that happened between these two actors. going from fiat our little sunshine brat in dsn to Ashi our regal serious actor in bms and Leo our serious big boy protector in dsn to actual puppy sunshine baby punn in bsm -> getting a swop like that shows me their range as actors but also just different sides to their acting personalities and how well they know each other which is pure magic in romance

2. I’m OBSESSED with the way they met. like yes punn is madly in love with ashi as a fan boy (the little poster kiss really ruined my life), but to have an accidental bump in meet-cute and then (as far as it looks like the plot is heading) to end up working together is a delightful start to their story (cause it alludes to plot directions like “oh fuck I’m in love with you what am I supposed to do with these feelings??” , and “secret relationship eras (my beloved)” and “how can you date him you’re just a student intern and he’s a superstar” and “but I love him. I love him.”. can you tell I’m ready for this?)

3. the sets for this show seem to be out of this world. not just in relation to the period drama ashi (and co) are acting in but also the cafe where punn met his friends, the bar where doctor and superstar met (HAH!), punn’s mom’s cafe, dad’s art studio. all of it is so good. and from what I can see they really seem to be using the lighting and set structure to show personalities which is incredible in and of itself. (e.g. if you notice the lighting and set is pretty light/airy/flowing when punn is the central focus (that shower scene speaks for itself); but quite dark/wood/sort of solid when ashi is the focus)

4. the costumes, oh good god, the costumes! firstly just how beautiful the period drama stuff is ! ashi’s white cloak? and title’s full princely (guard?) suit? IMMACULATE. but also their casual clothes. ashi being so neat, tidy, and elegant always. versus punn who is soft and comfy (that lil grey cardigan did so much for my heart). as far as I can see (and probably because there’s been so many costume changes as a result of ashi’s job), there hasn’t been any colour coding between him and punn (yet?). so not much to say on the blue boy/red boy (/other colour variations) connotations. they may just play this out in style more than colour which is always less obvious but satisfying all the same, but I guess that’s just a waiting game.

5. so so happy with all the touching we’ve had. and I don’t just mean punn and his delusional body pillow cuddling (although that’s so relatable). but also between doctor and superstar (I really need to get to their names lmao) -> their entire scene was iron melting! the thumb swipe across the bottom lip, the finger brushing against the hand, the dancing (holy fuck), and then naturally the sex. SO GOOD. but also yes punn and his little prayer to his ashi poster, punn and his brother pai fighting (ah sibling love), even the touching between the three superstar friends. I like that the intimacy of touching is already being shown in a full range of ways. parents to children, sibling to sibling, friend to friend, love interests, lust. EATING SO GOOD!

anyway, now that I’ve talked y’all’s ears off, I am so happy to have a Monday night (more like Tuesday morning) watch for the next few weeks and I’m beyond excited for wherever this one will take us !!

[countessofravenclaw]

So, I am unhinged enough apparently to write material for part 7 of S2AU, when I haven't even started part 6 yet.

So, this just some material which has been floating in my head and keeping me from focusing on things I am supposed to be focusing on. So here's a snippet

“What is that?” Isla walked behind Marco in their office and ran her hand on his shoulder. “Doesn’t look like shared price fluctuations.”

“It is not,” He flipped a window open on the tablet, “I was looking into an eye doctor appointment.” 

“Eye doctor?” Isla looked at him, “Have you had difficulty seeing?”

“I am not sure,” Marco shook his head, “So I thought, I'd better check it out.”

“Yes, do it” Isla nodded before sitting down on the desk. “Better now. Glasses would suit you.” 

“I will look like a joke, but it is better to look before you fall. Especially since aging sight is usually genetic, but I can’t know, since my parents never lived to suffer from it. Good to know, for Gastón as well.” Marco put the tablet down, “I didn’t tell you that I talked with Tomas yesterday, right?”

“No,” Isla looked up, “Did he have something to note?”

“Actually, we talked about the gravestone. Now that it has been 20 years soon, I think it’s time to properly get it taken care of. Maybe I actually should go visit the grave.” 

“After the schools are done?” Isla questioned. 

“Could be. Gastón’s hasn’t been there in ages and don’t you want to strong arm Mía and Elise about something. You always talk about it. Easier in person.”

“Well, we could go visit Cordoba during the summer,” Isla nodded, “We can’t avoid that place forever. I need to call my mother anyway, we haven’t talked in a while because I don’t know how I am supposed to explain everything that has been happening to her.” 

“You haven’t told them?”

“Not yet. Mom would worry and Mía and Elise would make thousands of jokes about how we can't stop collecting children. Did you tell Tomas?” 

“I did mention it.” Marco nodded, “He didn’t have much of a reaction. He never does. But Isla, you need to tell them about Luna. We can be honest with each other. This is not going to get solved by summer, so if we go, she’ll be coming along.”

“I know. I’ll call Mom tomorrow, so I can relay the news.” Isla got up and went to grab a file from the bookcase, “…Actually…”

“What?” Marco looked up at her, “Isla, your mother will be extremely offended if you don’t tell her. Are you planning on just showing up with an extra teenager, that they know that there is no way we could have had? The assumptions will range from them thinking that she’s Gastón’s girlfriend, which will make things awkward, to all sorts of other things.”

“No, it has nothing to do with my mother. I’ll talk to her.” Isla flipped a folder over in her hands, “Just came to mind when we were talking about Luna. So, I am not fully sure what I heard—”

“That is never a good sign.” 

“Stay with me. Apparently, she and Matteo have some sort of history.” 

“Matteo, seriously? Did not see that coming.” 

“But when you think about it, isn’t she exactly the sort of a girl Matteo would need? She’s so sunny and brightens up every room she walks in. With everything he’s been through with Alexander, although Sofia did tell me that they might be on the road to mend.” 

“Maybe,” Marco sighed, “but don’t get too excited. They clearly aren’t together anymore. Plus you don’t actually know, and Gastón won’t tell you a thing if you ask.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Isla shrugged laughing, “Just thought, maybe good to keep an eye on the situation—” 

Isla’s phone started ringing.

“Oh, it’s Calvin.” She looked at the screen, “I thought he’d be on shift.” 

“Maybe they’re bored at the station,“ Marco suggested, “tell him that we insist on that dinner.”

“Of course,” Isla nodded and raised the phone to her ear. “Calvin, what do I owe the pleasure? Before you say anything, Maroc and I insist on strong-arming to that dinner, we never get to see any of you and since you’re here… Okay, I’m listening.”

Isla quieted for a moment as something was said to her from the other end of the phone. 

Marco was scrolling through a few of his latest unanswered emails, while Isla was taking the phone call. 

He looked up when he suddenly heard distraught gasp and saw his wife collapse on the couch, a discombobulated and glassy look in her eyes. 

“Isla! What’s wrong?” She was trying to say something, but no words came out of her mouth. She was gripping her phone in a way that her knuckles were turning white.

Marco looked at her face. Something that her brother-in-law had said had gotten her into this state. 

“Calvin, it’s Marco. What is going on?” He grabbed the phone out of Isla’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, but there is no other way. I wanted you to hear this from me.”

“Hear what?”

“Uhm, we responded today to a call at Blake South College.”

Marco looked at Isla again. the panic she was under, was getting to him now too. There was only one reason why Calvin and his company would have been called to Blake. 

“Please tell me I am wrong about what you are going to say.”

Uuu, so Gastón's parenst are Lutteo shippers. I'm sorry, they would be. Matteo's their second son.

[perverse-idyll]

10 Lines Tagging Game

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

Thanks to everyone who’s shaken me out of my stupor by tagging me: @yletylyf, @danpuff-ao3, @likelightinglass, and @ripeteeth! I'm going with first paragraphs, and a little more where pertinent. I had to scroll all the way back to 2014 to manage the full ten, partly because I skipped all the fic snippets.

I haven’t had time to comment on others’ posts, but I’ll get to that soon. Please, anyone who hasn’t shared, post your lines! I’ve read every excerpt I’ve seen so far, and they’re all wonderful, even the snippets from canons I don’t know. I won’t tag because I’m at work and rushing this out, but others should try! It’s fun to get reacquainted with your own first lines.

Candles Lit Against the Dark - (HP, Minerva/Wilhelmina and a big helping of Snape, 13.6K),

At around four in the afternoon, with three chapters to go in the espionage novel she was reading – since popular thrillers provided not only diversion but an eye-opening refresher course on Muggle slang and cultural attitudes – Minerva glanced up from the page to find Wil leaning in the doorway, watching her.

The Afterlight - (HP, Snape/Harry, WIP, 6 chapters, 45.6K so far)

It was possible none of this would have happened if not for Hermione. Or if not for Ron being an insecure prat who had to give himself a confidence boost in the worst possible way. Kingsley Shacklebolt also deserved some of the blame for putting Harry in an impossible position.

But mostly, Harry was aware, the fault lay with Snape. With Snape and his penchant for nearly dying in Harry's arms.

Year of the Thestral - (HP, Minerva/Severus, WIP, 3 chapters, 16.8K so far. Warning: the opening paragraph is ‘romantic,’ the rest of the fic is not)

The headmaster of Hogwarts, as yet unaware that he had entered upon his last day on earth, raised his thin hand to stroke the unsmiling face of the woman who had afforded him so much unlooked-for happiness. How ironic that, while children suffered and Voldemort prepared to strike, with his loyalties so deeply buried that only a discerning heart and penetrating mind could perceive their true shape, Severus Snape should lay to rest the ghost of his old love and touch the flesh-and-blood promise of the new.

The Threefold Death, or: the Lost World (long version) - (HP, Snape/Harry, Snape/Albus Severus, WIP, 3 chapters, 22.4K so far)

If Harry hadn't lost the ability to fly.

If his son had been sorted into any house but Slytherin.

If Harry hadn't waited until nearly forty to get lost in the Forest.

If Al hadn't been a ruthless romantic –

Or if Snape hadn't died. If Severus Snape hadn't died.

Jeeves and the Secret Society - (HP and the Jeeves stories (P. G. Wodehouse), Jeeves/Wooster, suggestion of Snape/Dumbledore, 12K, modeled on Wodehouse’s style and thus the fic most unlike my usual style)

Into the lives of all upstanding citizens an occasion must fall where we fumble the biscuit and end up owing an undeniable debt to mankind. Or in this instance, a kind man or two rather than the whole shebang.

No doubt it strikes you, on the head as it were, that I could say this of Jeeves on the regular. But the truth of the matter is, if I referred the matter to a court of law, that court would be forced to conclude that Jeeves is not like other men and therefore not a representative specimen.

The Sorrows of Your Changing Face - (Doctor Who, Twelve/Clara, 1.5K, not a fandom most of my friends read but this is probably my only chance to write a love letter to this ship, and it preserves the small hot coal of my feelings for them)

"We've really got to stop saying goodbye like this. How many times has it been now?"

She aims for a tone of flippant affection, the nostalgic companionship of Coal Hill and three-week-old coffee runs, heartsore mornings on an alien beach watching Gallifreyan symbols being scratched in the sand, a blanket over her bare shoulders and the transcendently erotic flapper affair that glittered as she curled around his confession, being counselled to choose and so choosing to change her mind. You can't be heartless and do what he does.

Soft Touch - (HP, Snape/Harry, 15.2K, character study with porn)

After the attendant led him down the hall and left him alone in the cosy wood-panelled room, warm enough that he could lie around in his smalls and not suffer goosepimples, Harry performed several quick spells to blind spying eyes, disable extendable ears, cover holes in the walls, and silence illegal recording charms. Not that he was paranoid, mind, but he wasn't an idiot, either.

Warm - (HP, Snape/Harry, 11.3K, porn with character study)

"Well, that was more fun than a barrel of Boggarts."

Harry bumped the front door shut with the snow-caked heel of his dress shoe and peeled off his gloves, watching Severus prop his cane in a corner and continue stiffly down the hall. He'd rather hoped that once they got home Severus would grab his arse and hump him up against a wall. But he could tell from how he walked that the winter freeze between the Ministry ball and their own doorstep had triggered muscle spasms, the ghost of Nagini's venom still flaring and fading in Severus' body even several years later.

The Blood of Stars - (HP, Snape/Harry, WIP on hiatus, 3 chapters, 44.2K, the WIP of my heart, and once I complete the current trio of fics, I want to drag this one back into the light)

At first, it's dark and he's flying.

More graceful in the air without a broom, he shivers at the unexpected freedom. The pulse of escape makes it worth the pain.

For there is pain. Too soon, the downward spiral begins. He drops lower, darker, through an agony of sky. Freefall. The very air hurts.

Impossible Without It - (HP, Snape/Harry, WIP on hiatus, 3 chapters, 16.5K, I’m also fond of this one, and I suspect readers will like it more than Blood of Stars. So I’ll probably work on both at once. Someday.)

Alone in the headmistress' office, Harry sat balancing a tea cup in his lap and toying with his wand, wondering how much longer he could stand to wait before Minerva returned.

[presidentcircles-assistant]

some OCs i don’t mention quite as much:

Vincent- A Circle, the son of Dean and Carmen, who are both very vain and stuck up. Vincent has their snobbish nature, but is a lot more reserved, mostly as a result of the fact that when he was born, his Sides regressed from his parent’s; his father had 45, while he had 28. Such a giant step backwards doesn’t give him the brightest reputation. Most Circles are content with choosing any wife, no matter the family she comes from, but Dean hadn’t been. He refused to marry anybody unless she proved her heritage to be 100% perfectly regular. As a result, he was alone for a very long time until a rich Line named Carmen heard about him and proved that her ancestry was completely regular, and they married. When Vincent was born, they were both in disbelief, unable to accept that they had spent all their lives abstaining from anyone who wasn’t perfectly regular just to get repaid like this, and they both blamed the other, saying they had been deceived. Still, though, neither of them would be caught dead with a child that went against everything they stood for, and they hid his side count from the world, maintaining a good enough façade of a happy marriage. At least, until he turned 12, when a doctor that couldn’t be bribed into silence ending up revealing their secret. It completely wrecked Vincent and his family’s status, and any political job he might have taken to follow in his father’s sidesteps rejected him, not wanting his kind to represent them. Vincent now works as an archivist, an easy enough job that he’s passionate in. He’s content, and his family’s riches keep him afloat (if anything, just because they feel bad for what they created). He hasn’t married yet, giving the reasoning that nobody in their right mind would want to marry someone who would send a family’s sides backwards. Though he keeps to himself, he isn’t at a complete loss for acquaintances; he can always be seen hanging around Fraser, an old Pentagon that served as a medic in a war, who knew Vincent when he was just a young Circle. He can also always be seen visiting a merchant called Equilateris, who owns an old, family run clothing shop.

Equilateris: An Equilateral, coming from a long line of similar Shapes who have been desperately trying to break into the Square class. His two older brothers were born Squares, much to the delight of his father, Ed, and he was born as an Equilateral, much to the disappointment of his father. After having 2 other, better children, Ed couldn’t be bothered to give him any sort of meaningful name. And besides, ‘Equilateris’ reminds him to always think about how much of a dead weight he was to the family tree, motivation to make something of his life. Equilateris doesn’t care much for the family business, but carries it on, if only because his brothers are all lawyers and he has no other relatives who would swap places with him. Although, he has always taken an interest in radios, and makes side money with a radio repair business. He tries his angle at other electronics as well, and is well versed in them, but they don’t interest him quite as much. His eldest brother often drops off his kids at Equilateris’ shop while he’s off at his own job; Jamie, Sam, two Squares, and Virgil, an adopted Equilateral from an Isosceles family; and they’re a constant presence, usually causing trouble. Well, mostly the Squares; Virgil is always silently watching, never uttering a word more than required of him. The most notable customer there is Vincent, though he doesn’t seem to actually have any real reason to be there so often.

[gibblyxnoface]

Pt1. (The Villainess will prevail)

(Internal dialogue) My life is shit. By the age of 7 my mom died in a tragic car and truck accident. The doctors said it was because she had sustained to many injuries like broken bones, ligaments, cracked skull along with her eye knocked out of her skull and other internal injuries. But since that day my dad think otherwise that the accident was intentional. It was so traumatic to me as a child that my whole body was shaking from the anxiety and adrenaline, she was so unrecognizable and cold when I clung on to her deathbed at the hospital and cried to her hoping it was just a cruel joke and that she would wake up to comfort me and dad. Yet I never seen my father cry that hard that day as we cling on to each other. It broke my heart and my spirit and change my perspective on things. After that fateful day we both were pretty depressed for a very for years in elementary until high school I would start fights at school from people making fun or judging me let along look at me kids would say things what would make me see red “Nymeria mom died in an accident she had what was coming to her she’s nothing but a S L U T and now her dad is nothing but a widowed loser and a pathetic excuse of a dad” children like to twist up words therefore I correct what they say by making them not speak again which is how I had an infamous name at school “There is Nymeria the Mad dog” sometimes I would be called “Vixon” whenever I hear that name or anybody insulting my family I would beat them until my hands were bloody and would get suspended from school weeks at a time the teachers didn’t know what to do with me they would call me a delinquent and they would have parent conferences with my father which in his defense he would say that I was a good child at heart and that I was taught to always stick up for myself. My father on the other hand were gaining and losing jobs every month and on his off days he would drink away his sorrows and would be hungover the next day not able to show up to his job. Still affected by the lost of his beloved wife and my dear mother. Even when dad was struggling internally he would never like to show it as it was a sign of weakness in his eyes. He would still always be there for me as we work together through this trauma bond. In High-school things became a bit better for the both of us father father has a decent job but he never told me about what job it was and he wouldn’t say much but he would still support me in the best way he can, The only thing that is different is that every week he would make food and place it at mothers shrine as if she was still here and every month dad would still look at her photos in their family photo book. Me on the other hand love my mother but years have passed along with my grief and my slowly fading memories. Most of the few moments with my mother are all blurry except for the vivid memory of her in her deathbed. Currently, High-School is the same as always, boring. But I get the work done, not many people bothered me and a have a small group of friends that cares for me deeply. Knowing that they care make my heart feel light. Every once in awhile people would test my patience only for them to get beat up and me getting in trouble for it sometimes they would get payback and jump me. My delinquent side still hasn’t changed one bit since Elementary. I had a boyfriend at some point but I had to drop-kick his ass he only wanted me for my body and his attentiveness was short and never seemed to care about my presence or what I had to say so I kick his ass to the curve. I don’t have time for people who only want to waste my time. I won’t be doing relationships any time soon. One day I was Walking home from school and I received a phone call. It was a random unknown number me not thinking much I didn’t answer but then I would receive the same call from the same number and I gave in and decided to answer the phone to ease the mind of the other person that’s calling only to be in dread and disbelief. “Hello is this Amy from the hospital of human services I have bad news” (End)

[jodilin65]

Did some voice tweets since it’s been a while and I still have an iPhone. Unfortunately, the option is not available for Androids. There was talk about it a while ago, but of course, Elon Musk had to go and fuck things up.

I’m tired today because apparently my sugar-free body can handle one night of broken-up sleep but not two. Whatever is cursing my sleep really will use anything—like literally anything. No traffic, no thunder, no problem. It can just use my own damn body. It was the same old shit with my nose waking me up because it was so stuffy and I couldn’t breathe through it. I only sleep on my stomach or my side, and I never breathe through my mouth in my sleep. I pretty much got myself in the habit of this so I wouldn’t snore, and I haven’t been snoring that I know of. If I roll over onto my back, which is where you’re more likely to snore, I haven’t been aware of it.

So anyway, I got up with a stuffy nose even though I remembered to put the nose dilator in, but that wasn’t enough. So I got up and tried flushing it with just warm water since I don’t have that stuff you put in the bottle, and that didn’t help much other than to make my nose sting like hell for a minute. So then I snorted up with the Flonase that I recently got as part of my quarterly freebies from CVS and took half a Benadryl just like the night before.

I was eventually able to get back to sleep, but when I woke up, it hit me that Nasacort and Flonase probably weren’t the same thing. I asked AI, and they confirmed they weren’t. They said that different people respond to different ones better, and obviously, Flonase is not as good for me as Nasacort. So we jumped on Walmart and ordered Nasacort and also some more Zyrtec, but this time around I got the children’s liquid form of Zyrtec so that if I don’t quite want a full dose, I can cut it down a bit. So I’ve got these things coming today.

We’re also going to do things like keep the bedroom air cleaner on 24/7 just like the one in the other bedroom and the living room.

Going to start washing sheets in hot water, and we’re looking for a spray you can use on bedding that’s good for killing dust mites.

They also recommend showering before bed rather than when you get up, because then you rinse any pollen off that may be on you before bed. Lastly, a saline rinse before bed is also recommended because that too rinses out possible allergens. So I’m gonna do that and hope for the best! It sucks, though. Just when I thought I had it made in this climate, this starts, and yes, it can take a few years. So while I don’t mind the humidity, my nose begs to differ.

I’m going to be kind of pissed if Rhonda doesn’t take care of my prescription today. I requested Walgreens to contact her for a refill yesterday and got a message from Walgreens saying it’s delayed because she hasn’t responded yet. So if she doesn’t respond today, then tomorrow I’ll call the office and say, hey, when I ask for a refill, I need it filled.

I wish I could keep all things Aetna but trade her in for Galileo since they were so much faster and convenient, but they’re just too expensive.

When I was at the glaucoma doctor yesterday, he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary to suggest why he may have shown up in a series of dreams as he did. I do remember a couple of weird things, though. He had such strong-smelling cologne on. It was kind of good, though. It only hit me for a second, and as soon as I got a whiff of it, I was like, oh, I know that smell from all my years of getting incense and things like that. But what it was slipped my mind before it could come to me.

Also, on the way out, he goes, “God bless you, ma’am.” LOL, I knew he was religious because I’d seen pictures of him online with a big gold cross hanging from his neck, so that wasn’t too much of a surprise, though I don’t think I’ve ever had any doctors say that to me on the way out of their office.

I had one dream where we had land somewhere, and I stepped out to dump the trash or something. I saw a bear cub pull itself out of a hole in a hillside. Then, right after that, mama bear comes out, and I said, “Fuck it, I’m going inside.” After some time had passed, although it was the same dream, I went outside again. We definitely had quite a bit of land because I was quite a ways away from the house when I spotted a bear not too far away, and I thought to myself, damn! If I didn’t have a shitty memory, I would remember these things are around here, and I never would have come out—or at least not ventured so far from the house. So I was in a panic to get back to the house before they could get to me.

Then I had another dream that I made some jewelry for someone, and they left a voice message saying I did a really good job and that their only complaint was that they asked me not to have any visitors while I was making it because they didn’t want me to get distracted, and I’m thinking to myself in the dream, who did I supposedly have for visitors? I didn’t have visitors.

In the third and last dream, I was sitting on a bench at the end of a long street. A young, kind of tall, skinny lesbian sat down next to me, and I knew what she wanted. These days, no matter what a woman may look like, I’m not interested. I don’t know how old I was in the dream, but anyone who came on to me that strong, regardless of gender, would turn me off. But she was persistent, so I thought, well, maybe I could be selfish and have her spoil me, so let’s see if she’s a giver or a taker. So I asked her if she liked to take care of others, be taken care of, or both, and she said she was selfish. That was the dealbreaker until we agreed on foot massage exchanges. I went to do her feet first, only to find she had no feet! I was amazed that she could walk without them. All she had were these flat stubs below her ankles.

[lovetohate001]

hear me out 001 x reader your brenners daughter and at first 001 wants to manipulate you then kill you to get back at papa but ends up falling for you

All is Fair in Love and War

Peter Ballard x Brenner’s Daughter! ORIGINAL CHARACTER

CW: Spoilers for Season 4 ahead | R-rated for violence (shock treatment) & language

Word count: 1.8k

© lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.

 When you were young, you had no idea what your father did for a living. While other kids got to brag about their parents being doctors and teachers, you were always told to say that what he did was “a secret”. And you could never figure it out, no matter how many times you asked your mother or pestered your father. But you definitely found out later. And it fell onto your doorstep, quite literally.

“Papa!”

You couldn’t have heard that right. From upstairs, in your room, you looked up from your homework. Was that a child?

Another rumble of thunder rattled your windows. This weather was dreadful. Especially with summer break right around the corner.

“Papa!” the shout was louder this time.

“I’m in here, Eleven. You know Papa won’t go anywhere,” you heard your father say.

What the fuck?

You made your way downstairs and went to the kitchen, following the hushed voices of your parents.

“Martin, you can’t bring this child in here without telling me first. Christine is-“

“Mom…Dad…?” you peeked your head in and immediately decided to step into view. “Who is this?”

“Oh…Christine. I didn’t realize you were home from school yet. It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

“Hockey practice got cancelled today, with the bad weather and all,” you shrugged, kicking your shoe against the back of your other.  “So…who’s the kid?”

“Christine,” your father went up to the small girl and put a hand on her shoulder, “I’d like you to meet Eleven.”

That had been ten years ago. Now, at the age of twenty-eight, you were a full-time helper at Hawkin’s Laboratory. Like you really had any other choice after meeting Eleven.

“You’re a bit out of it today,” Peter pointed out, looking up at you from his place on the floor.

The two of you were on Rainbow Room duty today, and Peter was busy with 003, trying to help him influence his emotions. It didn’t seem to be working. Peter was his same serene self as he always was. 003 had been trying to force him to feel anger for a while now, with little success.

“Just a bit tired, is all,” you brushed him off and sat down alongside him. “It’s been a long week. Especially since 011 hasn’t made much improvement over the last few days.”

“Hmm…” Peter nodded and focused back on 003. “You’ve done well for today. Go get some rest with the other children, won’t you?”

003 nodded silently and got up, wiping his nose. The children here got nosebleeds often. You still couldn’t really find a remedy. The only thing you could give them was rest and reassurance.

“Do you want to go get some air for a while?” Peter offered you a hand as he stood up.

“Sure,” you took his hand gratefully and allowed him to pull you up. “Maybe the breakroom out back?”

The breakroom wasn’t as impressive as your father’s private office at the other end of the Lab, but being out in the sun did you good.

“Sometimes I wish I could get away from here,” you sighed, looking up at the sky.

Peter smiled and shook his head. “There really is no use in wishing away the time, when there isn’t much else out there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” he shifted and sat up against the wall, resting the back of his head on the cool brick, “If you look at it from another perspective, we’re exactly where we need to be. You’re working for your father, helping children harness gifts that others can only dream about. I think that’s more than enough.”

“And what about you? You’ve been here since I started. Don’t you miss the life you had before all of this?” you waved your hand in front of you, gesturing to the courtyard.

“No. Not at all,” he said shortly, voice a little more resigned. “I didn’t have the best life before coming here. Your father saved me in a way. Gave me a second chance.”

“In that case,” you reached your hand over and squeezed his hand, “I am glad you’re here now.”

His eyes widened a little at the gesture. He hadn’t expected you to do that at all. Especially since you two had done nothing but work together. Albeit as a team, almost inseparable most of the time, but still…this feeling was something new.

The hours crept along slower than usual for the rest of the day. You had been sent to the afternoon training room to oversee 002, 004 and 006’s progress, while Peter was sent for by your father.

“You’ve been doing well, 001,” was the greeting Peter received as he stepped into Doctor Brenner’s office.

Compared to the rest of the facility, this office was in stark contrast, with the mahogany desk and portrait on the wall behind him, of the ocean, tumultuous with a storm and a near capsizing ship. Doctor Brenner set his glasses on the table and leaned back in his chair.

“Thank you,” was all he replied with, his eyes steadily meeting Brenner’s. “That’s the most I can do here, since you were so keen to take away my own abilities. I can only hope to help children here to better themselves in the meantime.”

‘In the meantime?” Doctor Brenner chuckled. “My boy, as long as that little chip is in your neck, you won’t be harnessing your own gifts anytime soon. And you certainly won’t be making any advances on my daughter either.”

“Christine?” Peter frowned. “What have I done to give you any inclination that I have an interest in your daughter?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Peter. I’ve known you since you were a child,” Brenner snapped. “And I know you haven’t been spending more time with her here by coincidence. You’ve been following her around like a damned shadow. And I called you in to warn you.”

“If you,” Brenner pointed at him, “decide to use my daughter to get out of here with those sick mind games of yours, then I will have you killed.”

“You have no proof,” Peter said quietly.

What was this feeling? Squeezing against his chest. His heart hurt. He couldn’t breathe. But why? Why now? When he had tried so hard to get close to you to be free. To free the both of you.

“You being here is proof enough 001.” Brenner’s words cut through him like ice. “You are a monster. And nothing and no one will ever change that. You belong to me.”

Peter swallowed thickly and looked up, forcing himself to fix his gaze steadily on Brenner.

“I can assure you, sir, that I have no such intentions. Without my power, you know I am nothing. And I never will be anything as long as I am in this facility. And I know very well that you will kill me if you deem it fit to do so. So, answer me this question: why would I rebel against the man who will pull the trigger?”

“I’m glad we have an understanding. You are dismissed.”

Peter was escorted out by two of the other helpers. They all changed shifts and stayed so shortly on shift that he didn’t recognize their faces. They took him by the arms and forcefully steered him down the hall, into the room around the corner. Shock treatment was the only thing Brenner could prescribe to make sure 001 knew his place.

The currents washed over him in such strong and painful waves that he bit down hard enough on his lips to cause blood to trickle down his chin. And no matter how much higher the voltage went, he refused to scream, and willed that part of him you had brought to life again to die and bury itself away where it had once laid dormant.

Peter allowed the darkness to swallow him whole.

When you came in the next day, Peter hadn’t shown up the entire morning. Angela, one of the night nurses, had passed you on her way out and told you that he was in the infirmary.

You’d rushed down the halls and practically burst into his room. And there he was, asleep in a bed on the far end of the hall. Two children, 004 and 009, looked up as you came in, curious.

“Peter?” you slowly went up to him, eyes widening as you noticed the red marks covering his face. Were those burns? No…

“Peter.” You fell to your knees by his bed and clasped his hand tightly. His fingers were ice cold.

Your father had done this. And you knew it. He’d seen the way you had grown closer to him. After all these years, he had noticed that spark that lingered between the two of you. And he’d wanted it put out in the only way possible: by threatening him.

For the first time in your life, you held his hand as tightly as you would allow yourself to. You pressed his hand to your heart and sobbed. You didn’t care who was looking, or noticing.

“Christine…?”

You sniffed and tried to give Peter a watery smile. “It’s alright. I’m right here.”

Blue shadows bloomed under his eyes and he sat up slowly, trying to shake off the headache pounding through his skull.

“Peter…” you started.

“No. Don’t ask me anything.” He looked down at his hand, which you still held onto tightly.

“I’ll stay here then,” you replied stubbornly, squeezing his hand tighter in yours.

“Why me?” he asked, blue eyes meeting yours. “Why did you choose to love me?”

“Because you are kind.”

His heart stuttered.

“I am not kind.”

“Maybe not. But to me, you are.”

“You’re special,” Peter tried.

He had no idea how to explain himself. He was trapped. And he wanted to kill you and your father to get out. To be free. But that was a long time ago. When the two of you had been children. Now he wanted to get out of here. With you by his side. If he had to kill everyone else here except you, then so be it. But he couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t be-

“Peter?”

“Sorry. I can’t seem to focus on much right now.”

“I’m not letting him hurt you again,” you said gently. “Even if it means disagreeing with my father.”

He knew it would be more than a disagreement. To end all of this. But he would do this another day. Kill everyone another day. For now, he would rest. And keep you close to his side. Until he could find a way to get this chip out. Until he could finally be free. With you by his side. You would do this together.

And for once in his miserable life, Peter felt human. He felt love. And he knew it was all because of you. and he would never let that small bit of humanity you gave him slip away so easily. Not again. All was fair in love and war. Even if it meant he needed a few more deaths to get there.

A/N: I enjoyed writing this more than i should have! I hope you loved it too. I have a soft spot for soft Peter who actually has a heart. even if he is a mass killer with psychotic tendencies.

 If you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, comment and reblog! you can also send a 001/vecna/peter ballard ask down below! check out more of my works too if you feel in the mood for some light reading!

MASTERLIST

SEND A FIC REQUEST/ASK HERE!