#the real question is will this be a healing fic or a fic that roughly holds a mirror to your face and screams REPENT

[eatanorange]

me: a grad school app due soon enough for me to be stressed but not soon enough for me to be *activated* about it, a couple dates scheduled, MOUNTAIN of laundry, my body begging for exercise, a form needs printing for work

also me: I think NOW is actually the time I have an unbeatable urge to write that fic I've been thinking about since summer when my relationship that has now since ended, was failing :)

[byhuenii]

WHEN YOU KNOW YOU KNOW

synopsis! when you knew logan was the one for you and when logan knew you were the one for him (WC: idk..) pairing! logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x fem!reader warnings! usage of name instead of yn. stubborn logan. black reader in mind. probably ooc. soulmate au kinda. 🧏‍♀️ a/n! this was just some random thought i had and it turned into a mini fic of sorts, it’s alright but too BE HONEST this was so cute to write..

Hugh Jackman wolverine so that = him being tall as hell.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

To you. The idea of love at first sight was stupid, it wasn’t real and neither was soulmates. who would want to be bound with someone for their life—there was very few who you believed were soulmates and that was mainly jean and scott, they’d practically been inseparable

you could say it’s jealousy, and it’s not because you’re in love with one of them but rather because you wanted what they had. no matter what they were always mature about their relationship and always talked to each other; you had met logan after he was brought from the crash his personality was brash and off putting but his love for rogue is what made you want to get to know him more, it made your heart feel fuzzy..but in the best way possible

love at first sight was something you didn’t believe in but watching logan fight and risk his life to save this little girl he had just met turned something in you

and suddenly you believed in the thought of love and first sight moreover you believed in soulmates, he had slowly taken over your mind. he took over your daily life, it was embarrassing. you had never been this bad with anyone you had talked to

the sound of your heart beating roughly against your ribcage; the sight of him made your heart go a little insane. the small conversations you had, the littlest touches those were the ones that lingered those were the ones that stuck with you. you hated him you hated how he made you feel like you were going to explode like you wanted to scream into a pillow at night. you were in desperate need of advice, you had stormed yourself right to the lab.

“jean!!” your voice had boomed throughout the lab, jean had been in your mind lately she just hadn’t expected you to catch onto those feelings so quick. you were pretty stubborn, “when did you realize you were in love with scott..?” the loud call of her name to the normal tone yet desperate question made her have some whiplash

“when? i couldn’t tell you that” jean thought back to her first time meeting scott and their bond they had. “if this is about you and logan—”

yours brows furrowed “had you been reading my mind.” “[name] even without reading your mind your stares at him were enough to tell me everything”

jeans heels clicked against the floor as she put her hand on your shoulder, “i can’t tell you when or how i found out i liked scott but when you know you know” her eyes were soft. the question you had been trying to look for so long was right in front of you. you had always known you knew.

the minute you saw logan hold rogue so dear to him sacrificing his healing abilities so she would be able to stay alive was when you knew. “oh my god.”

But to logan, that was so much harder and took so much longer to simply admit he had fallen for you, he was 200 years old he was too old for you.

logan also had a gruff to him he always held people at a distance, he didn’t want to hold someone too close. he didn’t want to lose another person who he sought was important to him so he held you from a distance, it didn’t take much for you to work your way into his life

the xmen had treated him much like an outcast maybe much to his fault for being such a prick. you never let that get to you, a ray of sunshine that was just too nice—you actually cared about rogue, you wanted to help him you wanted to save rogue. maybe that’s when he started to grow somewhat fond of you

that was up to question he never took that as the sign, he’d saw you as a friend from that someone who was just nice to everyone. rogue had grown so fond of you she had always mentioned you in their conversations, it warmed his heart. to see rogue go from someone who held herself at a distance to being so comfortable in her own way especially with the help of you

logan had a smile on his face, one that could be missed. he had started to think about you a lot, your smell filled his nose. it was almost comfortable in such a way it’s as if your presence was able to comfort him, he knew you were there he knew you were safe; he’d catch himself staring at you more, lingering his touches a little more, he had this urge to hold you near him

“the way you look at [name] it’s different logan” rogue came from behind giving him quiet a scare, “jesus kid..” he grumbled. he couldn’t even notice that rogue was behind him at all,

rogue let out a small laugh putting her hand on his shoulder “you’re so in love with her, it’s sickening” she teased. logan refused to admit to no such thing “am not, you’re thinking nonsense kid”

“refusing to admit anything classic logan. when you have your ‘when you know you know’ moment do thank me”

his brow furrowed, a gruff smile as rogue had been right “don’t you have a class to be heading too?”

rogue rolled her eyes leaving him alone to head to class. logan had felt like his mind was going to explode, he needed a drink although it was school hours he opted for a dr pepper. “logan..!” your voice cause his head to turn behind in a rapid speed. “shit you scared me” he didn’t know why he lied he was just too excited to see you

a laugh escaped your lips, “did ya need something bub?” he put the dr pepper up to his lips sipping the carbonated beverage—“oh no no, i was just coming this way and i saw you” the damn smile you always wore, he could feel his shoulders relax his whole body relax

your scent filling up the room, honey, vanilla, and the smell of coffee you had always had with you. it was a comforting smell; the sun beamed through the windows casting this angelic look onto you, you were some kind of angel that saw the good in him and never judged him too harshly. his heart felt like it was beating harshly against his chest, he didn’t know how long he had been staring at you but it felt like hours. you were just so beautiful, it was a beauty in all his 200 years of living that was different

“logan” you waved your hand in front of his face, he seemed zoned out, “you still there..?” your face wore with concern. he laughed “yeah i’m still here bub”

“i was going to make some cookies since the kids really seemed to like them..” he watched your movement, the way you spoke so highly of the kids the way you held yourself to a standard never faulting to that. it made him feel weak, if he had been completely honest he hadn’t been listening to a single thing you said. he was just in a different world

a different world admiring you, he wore a small smile “so this is what she meant by when you know you know..”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

a/n — im still getting the just of writing again please bare with me </3

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

new sea glass gardens fan here! ✋🏻 happy to see such so much ask activity but i cant really go thru them all.

SO

what is one thing thats not in the fic but related to the universe that you would like ur readers to know?

Welcome!!

It’s that we won’t get to season 1 but if we did yuuji would be violently jealous of yuuta, who is living his best life and is obviously gods perfect man who has somehow locked down fushiguro megumi as his boy.

Probably just how badly it went when megumi was a kid.

There’s been a lot of asks about what happened when the zenin had shared custody. Most of what happened is never making it into sea glass gardens, because I don’t think it would ever come out in yuuta’s pov. I do have one shots from Megumi’s perspective and Gojo’s perspective that I’ve half written that may go up one day, but for right now, it’s a lot of backstory that you won’t ever get from sea glass itself.

If you don’t want to pick through a million asks, here’s a loose outline of what happened:

Gojo found Megumi and decided to adopt him. He then immediately decided he was in over his head and that he would be dragging Nanami and Shoko in with him. It takes a village and he’ll conscript one of his own.

Nanami and Shoko asked him “where the fuck did you get children” and he Did Not Answer That Question

During this time, Gojo, Nanami, and Shoko were sort of falling apart. They were all grieving. Everyone was completely overworked. Nanami had one foot out the door and wasn’t even hiding it. He was isolating himself and blatantly about to leave them all and not leave a number to reach him at. Shoko was abusing alcohol and cigarettes. Gojo was constantly in missions. They were all on the brink of losing each other for good when gojo brought megumi and tsumiki home.

Then he told the Zenin that he has discovered the magic of teenaged fatherhood with Zenin Toji’s kid and would be keeping him, xoxoxo. Hugs and kisses, peace and love, would not be giving this funky little dude back.

The Zenin replied “fuck you, thats our blood, give him back” and Gojo replied “fuck you, I called dibs.” Which the Zenin Did Not Like.

But the thing is that none of the Zenin knew that Megumi had the Ten Shadows yet, and the Zenin knew that if they went to war with Gojo, they’d lose. And they did not want to fucking admit that one member of the Gojo clan could kick all their asses at once, especially over the son of the Zenin clan’s biggest failure, especially when that guy just fucked them all over by killing the star plasma vessel. To save face, they decided to let Gojo keep him and called it a peace offering between their clans… then turned around and spread rumors about how Gojo just liked little kids and that’s why he wanted Zenin Toji’s son.

There’s a roughly nine months period after that where everyone was genuinely happy. Like, it was far from perfect, but they were finally healing a little? They were finally a real group again. They were all simply enchanted with Megumi and Tsumiki. They were happy. They felt like they could really, really be a family one day.

Then the Zenin found out Megumi had the ten shadows.

Cue the most aggressive custody battle of all time. The Zenin wanted full and unconditional custody of Megumi. They wanted Gojo to never have contact with him again. They did not want Tsumiki. Megumi would be theirs and he was never to be allowed contact with his sister or anyone from their group again.

At this point, the higher ups were mostly content to let them duke it out privately. They thought Gojo would lose, is the thing. He was committing the ultimate taboo by taking the ten shadows from the Zenin. They figured he’d eventually cave after he burned up all his good will and he’d be easier to control after this.

Instead it got to the point where Gojo said “actually, fuck this,” and just fucking. Quit. So did Nanami and Shoko. They formed a union and took the kids with them. The Zenin had decided that taking Megumi was an act of war they would answer in kind. It was either kill the entire Zenin clan or fuck off with their family and they chose the latter.

Megumi and Tsumiki think they were just on vacation but actually the custody dispute had escalated to the point of physical violence and the Teen Parenting Trio were hiding out with them to keep them safe.

This made the higher ups freak out, because all of a sudden, they had lost their only working special grade curse user and their only healer. They put pressure on Yaga to fix it.

Yaga was the one who brokered the custody agreement.

He convinced Gojo that what was best for Megumi and for everyone was to negotiate with the Zenin. The Zenin would have partial custody, and Gojo would have him the rest of the time. Megumi would get training in his technique from the people with the best knowledge of it, the Zenin would get time with the Ten Shadows, and they’d avoid war. Yaga thought it was the best deal they’d get.

This is when it all goes to shit.

The Zenin start abusing Megumi. They wouldn’t call it abuse if you asked them, but it was. They forced him to train constantly. No one would call him by his actual name no matter how much he begged. The bit where Megumi was forcibly bathed in sgg? It was an everyday thing when he was a kid. Every single aspect of his life was controlled when he was on the compound, down to what he wore and how his hair was styled. He was getting beaten pretty badly on the daily. The Zenin consider learning how to manage pain a part of training, and Megumi was not exempt from that. He was their heir. He was meant to withstand the most intense training without complaint.

Zenin Naoya was made one of his primary trainers, and he did purposefully abuse Megumi. Everyone else was obsessed with Megumi, only cared about the idea of him, and discarded anything that didnt fit their image about who they wanted him to be. But Naoya hated him. He saw Megumi as usurping his place in the clan. He liked hurting him. He beat him as often as he could.

Megumi starts acting out at home because of how bad things are with the Zenin. He gets in more and more fights at school and shuts down constantly. He's hurting and it's making him struggle, hard.

Eventually, Megumi goes to Gojo and begs him to stop making him go back to the Zenin Compound.

Gojo doesn't save him.

When they come back and make the custody deal, the higher ups basically go after the Teen Parenting Trio with everything they've got. The thing is that they almost lost some of their most valuable members of their society. They realized that they needed new ways to control them. So they introduced Shoko to harder drugs and got her addicted. They worked Gojo constantly. They isolated Nanami. When Megumi goes to Gojo, Gojo's at the absolute end of his rope, fully exhausted, and cannot take a single thing more.

He's also biased out of his mind as to what he thinks is going on. See, he thinks Megumi is being treated how Gojo was treated when he was a kid, which is like a little prince. The issue he's worried about is Megumi being pampered and put on a pedestal to the point it becomes dehumanizing. He's working double time to make sure that the rest of the time, Megumi gets to be a kid the way he didn't get to be growing up. But he never in a million years thought that the Zenin would ever lay a hand on the Ten Shadows, because the Gojo never in a million years would have laid a hand on their Six Eyes.

The other thing is that he sort of just. Thought he knew what was going on? Megumi had been pissed he had to be separated from his sister from the start. He had started to fight incessantly at school (because he was being abused and lashing out), and the Zenin were explaining away his bruises by saying he was starting fights with the other children. It fully fit with his behavior, in their mind. They blamed Maki more than once for his bruises, ironically enough. They said she was jealous of his technique.

Megumi was itty bitty and so fucking hurt, and he sort of stumbles through asking for help, and a lot is lost in communication. Gojo thinks he's just sick of going back there because his family's fucking weird and treats him like he's magic Jesus and he wants to be with his sister full time again. He also thinks that the only options are keeping this going or killing all the Zenin, because that's what Yaga told him. As much as he fucking hates it, he'd rather Megumi put up with spending two days a month with some fucking weirdos over murdering an entire clan or giving up custody entirely. So he basically cuts Megumi off and tells him that they have to make this work if he wants to stay with his sister the rest of the time.

Megumi now thinks that his family knows about the abuse and that they'll take away his sister if he doesn't just shut up and take it.

Megumi gets more hopeless and desperate, but he doesn't ask for help again. He thinks they already know. And he's not going to beg someone to help who never will. The abuse gets worse.

The Zenin start pushing their luck. They don't want partial custody--they want full custody. They start refusing to turn Megumi over to them unless Gojo personally comes to retrieve him, because Gojo's the only one who can actually make them turn him over. Megumi thinks his family is just fucking abandoning to his abusers and becomes more despondent in his situation. It doesn't help that the Zenin are telling him that he's staying later than he has to because his family didn't care enough to come get him.

Nanami gets increasingly frustrated with the situation because he keeps showing up to pick up Megumi at the very first second he can, and the Zenin keep turning him away at the door, and he keeps having to call Gojo in only for them to suddenly cooperate without complaint. He feels useless and angry.

Gojo feels frustrated because he's got every single second of the day scheduled with missions, and he's having to leave them to knock on the door of the Zenin compound and walk Megumi to Nanami's car. During all of this, Shoko has been escalating her drug use due to the higher ups pressure, and it's starting to show, but she refuses to get clean because she can just heal any damage the drugs do to her. Their previously happy family dynamic starts breaking.

Eventually, the situation at the Zenin compound hits its breaking point. If you're interested in what makes the situation hit a new extreme, the post is here, but I'll refrain from saying it here in case anyone wants to wait and see if I'll post the one shots and have it be revealed in-universe.

Naoya almost kills Megumi that time around, and they're all so emboldened by the liberties they've been taking with the custody agreement that they don't even try to hide it this time. They don't think Gojo actually loves Megumi, is the thing. They think Megumi is just a pawn to him, and that he won't care if they hurt him.

Nanami is the one that finds Megumi like that, and it fucking destroys him. He is never able to forget what Megumi looked like then. He carried him to the car, held him the entire time that Ijichi gunned it back to the school, rushed him to Shoko for treatment, and has never been able to forget what it felt like to hold him and not know if he'd survive the drive. He has never been able to forget it.

Anyway, he went back to kick Naoya's fucking ass.

Gojo showed up halfway through their throw down, drag out fight, so furious the ground shook with it. That's the part that Maki remembers of what happened. He told them that it was over, that they'd never be allowed near Megumi again, and he kept his word.

Yaga tried to talk them out of it. It's not that he wanted Megumi to be hurt. He just genuinely thought they didn't have any other options. He didn't think they could actually take the Ten Shadows from the Zenin. He thought the best they could do would be to try to force them into a binding vow not to hurt him. He told them they had to give Megumi back to the Zenin.

The Teen Parenting Trio cut him out of raising the kids completely after that. It broke their trust in him. They no longer thought he'd actually protect them.

Nanami broke down. He couldn't do it anymore. It was Haibara all over again. He told Gojo he was done, that he couldn't do it anymore. He wanted equal custody of the kids. They could work out a schedule. But he couldn't do this anymore.

Gojo realized that Megumi thought that he knew the entire time, and swore up and down that he'd never compromise on his or Tsumiki's wellbeing again. Their family was never the same, and it sort of haunts Gojo as to what they could have been. He always wonders if they could have had something closer if he had just refused to let the Zenin near his kid.

These events are in greater detail in the asks, but that's the general backstory underlying the events right now.

[underforeversgrace]

Fic Stats Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

@jackdaw-sprite thanks for the tag! I enjoy both being tagged in shit and doing the tag games! Let's fuckin gooooo! All data is from AO3 and does not include Tumblr information, nor stories posted only to Tumblr.

Most Hits: broken trust and the wounds hidden behind

This one is actually my highest by a significant amount! At the time of this post, it's at 6,463 hits. My number two story is at 3,814

Jack wasn't meaning to snoop in his son's room when he found a box of medical supplies and a USB with a tag that said IF I DON'T COME HOME. Danny’s secrets revealed, Jack is desperate to earn his son’s trust, to earn the right to this secret he stumbled across. After almost two years of unknowingly hunting his son, is Danny's trust too broken to heal?

Second Most Kudos: by your grave (the monster we made)

This one is second for pretty much all stats!

Maddie knew Danny kept secrets, it was a topic they didn’t discuss. But when she sees scars she knows he couldn’t have, she knows she can’t keep pretending. She just needs to figure out those scars.

Third-Most Comments: the walls you hide behind (I saw the truth inside the real you)

I'm actually suprised by that one! It's only been coming out for the past two-ish weeks!

Jazz is tired of the ghosts, tired of her parents not doing enough, tired of Phantom's recklessness and her brother's persistent exhaustion. When she yells all of her frustration at her parents after nearly getting killed by a ghost, she gets sent to Vlad's mansion in Wisconsin for the weekend - where she's offered a chance. She could have the ability to fight back, protect her brother and her town. Jazz leaps at the prospect. When she returns to Amity Park at the end of the weekend, it's with abilities and strength of her own, and she's fueled by anger and disdain. And she's got her eyes, first, on Danny Phantom.

Fourth-Most Bookmarks: Welcome to Intro to Ghosts

Man I really should update that fic shouldn't I?

Sure, turning sixteen was supposed to be a big year regardless, but this was a little beyond what Danny had expected when he'd both been told he was now king and then asked to be a teacher for the Intro to Ghosts class while also being a junior in high school. Now he has to juggle a secret identity, being a superhero, doing centuries worth of old paperwork Pariah didn't do, his own schoolwork, AND his students/classmates schoolwork! This'll be fun. Or catastrophic. Hopefully fun.

Fifth-Most Words: healing the wounds we hid

This is the sequel to broken trust, mentioned earlier! It's actually going to be my second highest word count (it's full draft is roughly 38k, but for where I am in posting, it's at number 2!) Once it's posted by your grave (the monster we made) (also referenced earlier), will be the actual number five.

Least Words: fang u for ur help

At a paltry 345 words, this is the shortest fic I've posted to AO3. It's a silly like DannyMay thing bc the idea was funny and didn't need to be any more than it is.

Danny has fangs and questions. DannyMay2023 Day 16: Fangs

Tags: GAH I HAVE NO IDEA WHO'S BEEN TAGGED AND WHO TO TAG. Ummmm. @scarletsaphire @lexosaurus @strawberrycamel, and anyone else who wants to!

[densi-mber]

Mentor

A/N: This one takes place around season 4, either completely AU or if they got back home in time for the 26th. I know it’s not quite a Christmas fic, but it’s close enough. Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating!

***

“Hey, do you want to the Jameson Center with me the day after Christmas?” Deeks asked Kensi one day early in December.

“I thought you volunteered at the soup kitchen,” Kensi commented, referencing the Christmas they spent serving food to the less fortunate.

“I do, but they had an entire high school class volunteer this year, so I checked in with some other places I’ve worked with before,” Deeks explained. “Jameson’s is a center for struggling kids who don’t really have a lot or good support at home. A big part of their outreach is to bring in adults and peers from the community to help out.”

“So, you just go and hang out?” Kensi asked.

“Sometimes.” Deeks shrugged. Sometimes it was really that simple, although the conversations that tended to occur were anything but simple. “On holidays or special events they usually have games, food, the usual stuff. Most of the kids seem to enjoy it. And if they don’t, at least it’s a place where they won’t get in trouble…or anything else.”

Kensi mulled it over for a few moments, then nodded. “Ok. Let’s do it.”

***

Deeks was good at this. Kensi had seen Deeks with kids countless times on cases, whether it be angsty teens or a kid who just needed someone to pay attention to them, Deeks fell into whatever role needed with ease. Somehow, Kensi always forgot that detail.

Today gave her a sharp reminder of those skills as he effortlessly wrangled a few dozen kids between 3 and roughly 20 years of age into the various planned activities. Technically, the center was supposed to be for minors, but Deeks held a rather liberal open-door policy.

When Kensi questioned if he’d get in trouble, Deeks had shrugged and said,

“Look, most of the supplies are either donated by patrons or the volunteers, so it’s not like we’re blowing through funds or something. And, as long as no one causes any problems, I think we’d all like to see them here than hanging out at a bar or the gas station that sells cigarettes to anybody with the money.”

The few times she’d visited a center like this when she was on the streets, she’d always felt like an outsider. Looking back, she didn’t know if was real or imagined, but she’d felt judged by the mentors and other kids. It was the reason she’d only gone back a couple times. To see these kids so cared for, was oddly healing.

They’d started out with lunch (“Feed the gremlins first, Kensi. Only way to maintain order.”) and then moved on to a few Christmas themed games, which were a huge hit with most of the kids. At first, she found the thought of managing so many kids with only three other adults in addition to her and Deeks, intimidating. However, by the time they were Rudolph themed version of pin the tail, started having fun and forgot to worry.

“Hey Mateo, JC! This tree isn’t going to decorate itself,” Deeks called out in a throaty voice a couple hours into the evening. Two older boys probably somewhere in the range of 14-16 years old rolled their eyes and scoffed.

Kensi had noticed them skulking in the back, refusing to participate in most of the activities, yet not leaving either. They so clearly wanted to project an air of superiority, but couldn’t fully conceal their interest in the fun.

“Yeah, like I wanna make a crappy ornament,” JC replied, jutting his chin out towards Deeks. Deeks nodded, completely unaffected by JC’s disrespect.

“That’s absolutely fine, but you should know that there’s prizes for the best decorated ornament from each age range.”

Mateo considered this information for a moment, then pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, joining a table lined with other teens.

“Traitor!” JC called after him.

“What, I like prizes, man,” Mateo defended himself.

Deeks hid his grin at their antics while he showed a little blonde girl how to thread beads on a string. After a few minutes, and muttered words that Kensi didn’t catch, JC reluctantly situated himself beside his friend, and grabbed a pile of supplies.

Kensi stood on Deeks’ left side, teaching a group kids how to tie a sliding knot. While they chattered among themselves, she took a moment, to watch Deeks in his element.

“How did you learn to do this?” she wondered, nodding around the room when Deeks looked up in apparent confusion. “You seem to know exactly what to say or do with everybody, no matter their age or baggage.”

Glancing down at the little girl still working at her beads, he nudged her to the side with an encouraging smile. “Hey kiddo, I’ll be right back, ok?”

She nodded without looking up, her tongue sandwiched between her teeth as she concentrated.

Walking a little ways off, he led Kensi to the snack table. He offered her a cup of coffee, but she shook her head.

“So, what’s your secret to being the kid whisper?” she prompted.

“I’m hardly a magician. I guess…I just learned to listen to kids. Even when they’re not talking, they say a whole lot,” he explained. “Other than that, I try not to have too many expectations. Especially in these kinds of situations. Cause the harder you push, the more they’re going to buckle down and resist.” He chuckled. “I might know a thing or two about that from personal experience.”

“I could have used you when I was 17,” Kensi mused softly. The before she could ruin the mood, she added, “They’re really lucky to have a role model like you.”

Deeks’ eyes widened, slight surprise, followed by embarrassment all flashing across his face. Then he dipped his head, and she swore his cheeks took on a faint rosy tinge.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his thumb along his bottom lip. “That’s uh…thanks.” Something in front of them caught his eye, and he craned his head slightly, corners of his mouth lowering. “I should probably wrap up the ornaments. Looks like they’re getting a little restless.”

As he’d guessed, some of the younger kids had begun finding other uses for their beads while others were beginning to look a little bored.

“All right guys, everybody gather around. It’s time to go caroling,” Deeks announced, clapping his hands together a couple of times.

“Oh hell no!” Mateo said emphatically, ripping off the Santa he’d acquired at some point.

“Relax, Mattie. I’m just kidding. We’re having hot chocolate and Christmas cookies.”

“Ok then. But I’m still not singing,” Mateo warned him with a raised finger.

Kensi snorted, sharing a smirk with Deeks.

“Five bucks says he’s humming “Frosty the Snowman” in less than ten minutes,” he said to her in an undertone.

“Yeah, not taking that bet,” Kensi whispered back. She turned her attention to the kids lining up to get their doses of sugar.

Surprisingly, Mateo and JC had taken it upon themselves to help the little kids. A quick glance in Deeks’ direction confirmed he was watching them too, a proud smile twitching at his lips.

“Thanks for inviting me,” she said, drifting closer to Deeks so their shoulders brush. “It’s been oddly fun.”

“Good. I’m having fun too,” Deeks told her. “Now let’s get some cookies before these guys eat them all.”

[l0t4n]

YEARLY CHECKUP

a/n Dr. Mal Practice, MD will see you now. Also sorry I am NOT familiar with the interworkings of the Devildom medical system, if anyone is more enlightened on the canonical aspects than I feel free to lmk. First NSFW fic posted here too - are we excited or are we excited teehee...

Contains NSFW. Dubcon (verbal consent, but power imbalance). Medical/clinical/otherwise loveless sexual contact. A little slutshaming and exhibitionism. Belphegor receiving handjob, GN reader, genitals unspecified.

It is incredibly simple to become a doctor in the Devildom. Demons are very hardy; nowhere near as finicky as humans are when it comes to the intricacies of care. Further, even if a demon contracts a serious issue, they're usually just stuck that way with no cure ever. Because of these two factors, there's no real concern for injury or death amongst patients - it virtually never happens, so they let practically anyone become a medical practitioner, no schooling or specialization required beyond on the job training. The pay is nowhere near as high as it is for human doctors because of that, but you get very few patients and a lot of time to sit about doing nothing, which is preferable for some.

Today, your job as a physician has been unreasonably hectic. Most days, you have no patients, totalling five or less a week, usually with minor ailments, many externally caused - a cold or a bad cut, neither of which you need to be especially careful with treating, since it's almost always issues that heal on their own quickly. Recently, however, you've had an inordinate number of patients for seemingly no reason - from the start of the work day until the end, you just had appointment after appointment with little time in between. It's the last patient of the day and you are fully prepared to leave, even if it requires you to cut even more corners than usual to treat them. It's already dark out, and the cold white light of the examination room sears its way past your eyeballs and into your brain, giving you a headache. Right as you rub your hands against your face to alleviate some of the pain, your patient walks in.

The sound of the door opening catches you by surprise, yet the patient says nothing as he promptly seats himself at the end of the examination bed, wax paper crinkling underneath him. He's very languid in his movements, and slouches from where he sits. It takes you a moment to look away, your sore head processing at a slower rate than normal. You swivel your chair around to face the computer on the desk beside you, pulling up his patient file quickly, as to make up for lost time. You fill the dead air in the meantime with a drawn out sigh. “Belphegor? What seems to be the problem today?”

“I fell asleep while walking down the stairs the other day, and hit my stomach hard on the way down.” His voice is quiet and sleepy. You don't really question how someone falls asleep while walking - regardless, falls are a common issue, and cycling through the potential concerns is like muscle memory to you.

“Any bruising or sharp pain?” You type his complaint into the form on the monitor before you.

“It's a little bruised, but pain-wise, it's just a bit sore…” You nod, typing the last of the notes and rising to your feet. You pull a pair of blue latex gloves from a box beside you, putting them on with practiced efficiency.

“We're going to take a quick look. Lay back for me.” You walk up beside the exam bed and motion as if you're pushing him back by his chest, without making contact. He complies, falling back easily. Your gloved hands catch the hem of his shirt, already risen up just a little, and pull it up to his ribs. His skin is pale, the light purple bruise visible on the left side of his waist, forming a line that fades out as it approaches the middle of his stomach. You press firmly across his lower abdomen, beneath his belly button, careful not to touch the injury too roughly. “Does this hurt?” You look up as you ask, only noticing then how his eyes have shut. He nods “no”, head flopping to the side after. You see now how he fell asleep going down the stairs. Returning to the physical exam, you press on both sides of his waist, just above his pelvic bones. You do this just a bit harder than before, a bit jealous that he's falling asleep and you're still on the clock, and you watch his otherwise undefined abdominal muscles flex a little bit beneath your hands. “Still no pain?” When you look up this time, he's just barely raised by his elbows, his face flushed pink - yet, he doesn't look at you.

“No,” he says it quietly, and his demeanor has totally shifted. Just moments before, he was relaxed enough to nearly fall asleep during the exam, but now he seems almost embarrassed. You look down, only not noticing where your hands rest, framing the apex of where his thighs meet his hips. The loose pants he wears do little to hide his arousal underneath. You stare uncomfortably long at his dick, noticing the light trail of black and white hair that goes up to his belly button. Once your overworked brain catches up with the situation, your head turns back up to look at him. He's fully propped up on his elbows now, and his hands are fidgeting with the pleather coating of the bed beneath him. He makes eye contact with you for a second, before glancing back away. You remember to move your hands, but right as they slip from his thighs, his own hand grips yours. A few uncomfortable seconds pass, before he says, “You can touch me, if you want.” His voice is bashful and sweet, but you don't miss the slight tremor in his voice, almost a bit sinister.

Your exhausted mental state feels almost refreshed, and before you can consider things like appropriate practitioner-patient relationship, you're pushing him up by his hips, motioning for him to lay on his back, which he does obediently, his hands nervously playing with the paper he lies on. You can only imagine what about this situation in particular made him hard - your head hurts just dully enough to deny you a solid answer. You leave your gloves on as you slowly, clinically grope his dick over his pants, the other hand resting on his thigh. He shivers and sighs beneath you, opening his legs wider for better access. Your movements are slow and methodical, careful not to show any emotion on your face. An idea hits you then - with no explanation, you stop touching him, moving back over to your desk. You feel Belphie’s eyes follow you, confused and concerned, as you pull a small packet of lubricant out of a drawer. Normally, these are used for various, non-sexual procedures, only sometimes involving the genitalia. Not today, though!

As you approach the bed again, Belphie is staring up at you worriedly, as if he's done something wrong. “Take off your pants.” You have difficulty keeping a level, emotionless tone of voice as you order him around, and you see the relief hit him, right before he leans over to roughly shove his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh. Soon, you're standing in between his legs again, his cock bobbing against his navel in anticipation. You rip the gel packet open, squeezing a bit out onto the head of his dick. He jumps a little from the cold temperature, but quickly suppresses his shock as your gloved hand grips his shaft, thumb rubbing the lubricant across the head. He shutters again beneath you, whining at the contact, his hips rising to meet your hand while his leg blindly kicks at your side, trying to find a place to perch against you, hold you in place. You ignore it at first, but he keeps trying to wedge his knee under your arm or over your shoulder, blocked by his half-undone pants. You stop your slow movements once again, stepping back and out of his reach.

This would be easier if he didn't insist on wearing those boots. Your hand is still slick with gel, and you don't want to dirty your gloves just yet. “Take off your shoes… So we can continue the exam, of course.” He's visibly annoyed about the interruption, and rises a bit slower than before as he moves to unlace his boots, kicking them off in a hurry, before his pants follow - by the time he's laying back again, his pants are hanging off his left ankle, only his socks remaining fully on, while his knees are pulled up to his chest. He stares up at you from under his hair, already messy from the way he's been writhing underneath your touch. When you don't immediately step back over to him, he wiggles his hips lewdly in your direction. The moment your hand is back on his dick, the gel has warmed under your palm, and he's quickly arching his back in pleasure. It seems like he's afraid you'll decide not to let him finish, or that, between all these delays, your appointment together will end before then. As a result, he continually tries to show off for you - although, he could be a bit more careful with his volume.

His moans are breathy with no space inbetween, almost like panting at times. His voice pitches into a whine every time you rub over the head of his dick, and the rather slow pace you move at doesn't seem to help. He took no time getting worked up, and he's moaning like he's close - though, you doubt how much you can trust the authenticity of his vocalizations. You rub along his shaft slowly, in a very linear up-and-down pattern, your thumb pointing away from your fist to rub against his slit every time you move upwards. Your other hand is wrapped around the base of his dick, holding him in place for “examination”. It's clear he's getting tired of the pace you've set, trying to rock himself into your fist at a faster rate. You tighten your grip against the base of his cock, causing him to jolt at the pressure. Leaning over him, you move your hand to focus on the head of his dick, agonizingly overstimulating him.

“You need to keep it down. We don't want anyone interrupting our private appointment. It's unbecoming,” you say through gritted teeth. You expect him to back down at that, but he grins widely in excitement and mischief - you quickly realize, from the prospect of being found out. He immediately throws his head back, loudly moaning like a whore. Only then do you decide to quicken your pace in frustration, going from slow and methodical to quick and messy in an instant. The gel on his dick fills the room with sticky, wet noises, combined with the way he groans in satisfaction at the pace change surely leaves no question as to what's occurring now to any passersby. Still leaning over him as you roughly get him off, you take the chance to look him over - the way his fingers helplessly grip at the bed beneath him, his stomach heaving with every exaggerated moan he utters - and, most importantly, his fucked out expression, half-hidden behind his hair. His eyes are shut, eyebrows worried and, of course, his lips are parted for his frequent moans and pants to escape. A bit of drool has collected at the corner of his mouth.

He peers up at you, opening his eyes for just a second, before they close again tight, his entire body trembling. You look down just in time to see him cumming, each buck of his hips painting his stomach further as he frantically humps your fist. You continue touching him throughout his orgasm, until he's jolting from oversensitivity. You remove your hand from him, slipping your now-dirtied gloves off and unceremoniously dumping them in the trash. Your patient lay panting on the bed, half-clothed, most of his abdomen slick with cum and lube - and you're already off the clock. You place a box of tissues next to his exhausted body. “Leave once you've cleaned up. I'm done for today.” Just as you move to walk away, a hand grips your wrist, surprisingly strong. You turn to see him sitting up now, looking right at you.

“I'm not done yet. Keep me company a bit longer?”

[snek-of-eden]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

@trentcrimminallybeautiful I'm going to slip in here if that's alright? It's definitely been a while since I've done one of these. (Also hi, so nice to follow your account again - I've made a new account but I used to be a big fan of your ted/trent content!!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

As of now, 33. Though it'll be 34 as soon as I gather the motivation to post a new one shot I've been working on. No plans on stopping, either!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

317,176, titles and things I've co-written notwithstanding. From roughly March 2023 - 2034.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ah, the age-old question. The fandoms I write (and have written) for are Good Omens (both TV show and novel), Star Trek TOS + the original movies, Ted Lasso, Our Flag Means Death and One Direction. I used to write for The Owl House, She-Ra and Gilmore girls too, but those fics no longer exist in the public domain. G

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lavender Apiary Of Your Honey Eyes - (Aziraphale/Crowley, 507 kudos)

Diffusing Lights, Confusing Times - (Aziraphale/Crowley - 351 kudos)

pausing the world to stay right where we are - (Aziraphale/Crowley - 195 kudos)

Onward. Forward. - (Ted/Trent - 188 kudos)

Eggnog and Effervescence - (Aziraphale/Crowley - 185 kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I do! It might take me a while to catch up, but I always make an effort to respond to people. And I really really appreciate them so much! Positive fandom engagement is so helpful to authors' motivation, and it's special to know someone is enjoying the content you've put time and effort into. So yep, I respond to comments.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Generally I don't write unhappy endings, since I write what I want to read and I want my characters to heal once I shatter their souls in a million pieces <3 but oh boy am I the king of ambiguously-angsty endings. One that stands out is lost in your drunken haze, or maybe The Sorriest Stage (from Good Omens and Star Trek, respectively).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmmm, most of them have really happy endings!! Or at least content ones. I like wrapping my blorbos in fluffy blankets and giving them hot chocolate heh. wood smoke and sugar and Pride Of Place are pretty euphoric, though :]

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully not much, so far. Constructive criticism that is more 'criticism' than 'constructive', certainly, but not outright hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh, absolutely! It's not a main focus of mine, but I've written my fair share of characters knocking boots. Usually only as part of longer stories though, not stand-alone fics. Always consensual and sweet (but hopefully hot too!). I like writing gender-diverse characters exploring those parts of themselves, as well as tackling themes of sex-positive asexuality in my works.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Crossovers have never really appealed to me, so I haven't publicly posted any. I've started a couple, but they never went anywhere.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had unique aspects of fics stolen, yes.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No! I'm open to the idea, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I have :D. It was a pretty strange experience because I was the only one fluent in English, but fun nevertheless.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Dude, that one's so tough!! A million are whirling through my head, but I'm going to stick to my gut and say either Aziraphale/Crowley from Good Omens or Kirk/Spock from Star Trek TOS. They're just adorable agh T-T

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I only have one abandoned WIP right now (wahoo! here's to stubborn author's guilt) and I don't think I'm ever going to finish it. Looking back, the plot isn't great and it feels slightly immoral writing about real-life people who I no longer ship together, so I think that one's gonna stay unfinished. At least I left it on a good note so nobody gets mad about a cliffhanger. lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good at writing evocative descriptions, and I'd say I'm alright at doing scenes of cuddles/casual intimacy (my favourite tropes in the history of forever)!! And I'm pretty stubborn, so once I set my mind to something I'll generally finish it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm impatient, so I tend to miss things or not edit enough once I've completed a draft. I also have a million ideas, barely any of which actually get written. I've filled notebooks upon notebooks with plots and motives that will never be expanded upon or even looked at again.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Personally I don't do it very often. My native language is English but I know a bit of Spanish and Italian, so I feel relatively confident if I ever need to add dialogue in those languages. Usually I'll add context within the fic as to what the character has said, or write it out in italics at the end of the paragraph. For alien languages I'll use a translator, since there isn't much of a direct comparison. If I need to write dialogue in a language I'm completely unfamiliar with, I'd probably go to someone more knowledgable than me and ask for their help so as not to screw it up and be insensitive. :)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I believe it was She-Ra and the Princesses Of Power (reboot). Thankfully those fics never saw the light of day. First fandom I wrote for and posted was One Direction (I shudder thinking about those dark days lol).

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Lavender Apiary Of Your Honey Eyes, hands down. 100%. That one holds a special place in my heart <3

Thank you so much, this was really fun!

npt: @foolishlovers @fried-marshmelon or anyone who wants to do it <3

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @rngaredead :)

For simplicity's sake I'm going to go with just my biDEMONium/trentcrimminallybeautiful ao3 and not try to combine it with my thesorrowoflizards one (why do i have more than one? because i was, among other things, an idiot who didn't know how pseuds worked next question) even though that would probably double some of these numbers lkfjgh

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Again, just on this account? 171 (some of those are oneshot compilations though)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

661,851 for now

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso, The Mysterious Benedict Society, The House on the Cerulean Sea, House MD, Death by Dying, Instinct, King Falls AM. Also, sort of Gravity Falls. Mostly those first two though, tbh. This one I think I will include other fandoms I've written and posted for on other accounts because it's fun and less about math. So also Shadowhunters, The Librarians, The Mentalist, The Dresden Files (TV), Roswell New Mexico, The Sandman, Star Trek, Professor Layton, Sanders Sides, Miraculous Ladybug, and sort of The Legend of Zelda. Also see, for unposted or posted a very long time ago and no longer something I would willingly share, Supernatural, Dirk Gently (both 2016 and 2010), Doctor Who, Warehouse 13, SurrealEstate, Person of Interest, Haven, Leverage, Bones. Psych, and probably more

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ted Lasso Kisses Trent Crimm On The Mouth (Trent/Ted - 1,157 kudos)

semaphore (Trent/Ted; Trent & Colin - 997 kudos)

off the handle (Trent/Ted - 736 kudos)

linger (Trent/Ted - 709 kudos)

a preacher, a bikini, and a kiss or two (Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs - 673 kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I always get really busy/tired and then it's been so long it feels like it would be weird if I did. Plus, sometimes my answers by nature of the comments can get repetitive and then even though I'm being sincere I feel insincere which sucks. However, if a comment has a direct question or something I actually have like, something unique to say about, I'm much more likely to respond sooner rather than later/never. I appreciate every single comment soooo much though literally my motivation to get through the day like 80 percent of the time

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm going to stick with Ted Lasso fics here since I have so many fics posted and this is my Ted Lasso sideblog and say... well, most of the time I have a bittersweet ending and then some sort of hopeful epilogue (such as with ink sunset and make a mess of you) but I guess betrayal's sting / absolution's balm or something to get off my chest may qualify?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhh, honestly, most of them are happy endings. I think trick & treat and matters of the heart end on particularly high notes?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not in this fandom! Yet

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh, yeah, baby. So much. Not sure what "kind" means in this context. It sure is explicit smut. I have tended almost exclusively towards hot transgender sex the last few years because. yknow. hi. but somehow I don't think that's the intention in the question.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do, but I haven't posted a lot. Only one on this account (a Gravity Falls x The Mysterious Benedict Society crossover that started as a joke because of a shared actress) although I had an interesting Shadowhunters x The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess fusion on my other account. I've written some pretty weird WIPs, though. And I've got some posts about Ted Lasso crossover/AUs, like a Sarah Jane Adventures AU, a Pushing Daisies AU, a Stardust AU... You can find that kind of thing in this tag on my blog.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. Not in this fandom, though, as far as I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Again, not in this fandom, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh, man, I don't know if I can decide. Magnus/Alec (TV version only I'll die on this hill) will always hold a special place in my heart, but I've got other "obsessed with this when I was a kid" ships and also recency bias/current hyperfixation means Trent/Ted screams as an immediate answer, and so on and so forth. I'm bad at picking favorites. Overall, I'd probably say one of those two, or both.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Sticking to Ted Lasso again (I have. so many MBS WIPs. god.) I'd say lost sight of (who you are) (lost motivation, want to finish, fuck!!) or sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell) (got mad at it), or!! oh!!! ink sunset (stuck) and possibly the next installment of matters of the heart. Yeah, I have a problem

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good at being funny and also at eloquent but perhaps a little too verbose metaphors. I love me an elaborate metaphor

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

It's hard for me to focus and get what I have in my head out sometimes, even when I really want to. Whether it's being unable to organize or just my brain flat-out refusing to cooperate and do anything. Also, I'm way too like. easily discouraged with lack of feedback, and even a little negative feedback can kind of ruin my week and make me never wanna go back to that story ever again.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I just realized. The questions seemed familiar but I wasn't sure why and now I know, now that I've gotten to this question. I have done this game before and I remember bc of this question. I was confused bc it was under a different name, I think the questions were in a different order, and it was sometimes slightly differently worded but nope! This is the same one! Weird Anyway, just for this particular question, I'm going to copy-paste my old answer because I'm lazy. I’m extremely bad at linguistics in general, so if I must include someone talking in another language in my fic, I think I’d tend to cheat and do italics or some other indication that this is ‘in another language’ (ie “Where are you going?” she asked in Russian), but that’s admittedly a lazy approach. But I also think it’s probably better than butchering it with an auto-translator? Also, when people just include the translation in the end notes, even with a link (although that makes it marginally better) it breaks the flow of the story and makes it hard to read. Making an effort to at least match grammar is good (which I would do if it was for longer than a single scene, probably) but I think the best solution is when people know what they’re doing and like, have an actual translation with a little html code so you can click on it and it reveals what it means? Or if you’re clever, revealing what it means using context around it, but that has its own limitations. So that both like, uses the actual language and doesn’t break up the flow. It balances accessibility, flow, and respect for the other language in question well. But you’ve got to both know what you’re doing with the language (either asking someone/hiring someone/knowing the language yourself) and the html (although there are guides for that you’d have to spend time figuring it out + know it exists in the first place to look). And this is fanfiction, something we ultimately do for free in our spare time, so the lazy approach, I think, can be understandable. Maybe not in every context, but it’s not worth stressing a lot over in a few random lines or anything, you know? It is really cool when people do know a language well enough to include it properly in a fic, though, it can say a lot about a character or dynamic; and their background(s) and like. it’s neat :)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ever? Doctor Who. And I don't remember the order, but after that I know I wrote some stuff about Star Trek (mostly TNG but I believe also TOS), Supernatural, A:LTA, Marvel, WTNV, and the Stanley Parable? I think I first posted either Supernatural or WTNV

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I have no idea. Some of my top ones (for Ted Lasso again) would be matters of the heart and trick & treat I suppose?

Tagging: whoever wants to do this man, I probably tagged everyone I'd normally tag last time so if you see this and you wanna do it, go ahead and tag me and do it!

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 7

Part 1 Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

What?

What had you just said?

Bakugou looked up, wide eyed, to stare at his alpha. His beautiful Y/N. The hand in his pocket gripped a small jewelry box tightly. He hadn’t been paying full attention, instead he had been in his own head, practicing over and over what he was going to say. But then you had said… He couldn’t have heard right.

“What’d you say?” He whispers gruffly.

Bakugou watched intently. You were staring up at the sky, though it didn’t feel like you were actually seeing the fireworks as they boomed and flashed.

“I… It’s time for us to break up, Katsu. You know it, I know it. This…” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, still not looking at him. “This hasn’t worked in a while. A long while. Years, if we’re honest.”

That… That wasn’t true! Why were you saying that? Bakugou stared at you, shocked. His eyes raked over you, and for the first time that evening, he actually paid attention. You… You didn’t look good. Your outfit was beautiful, and your hair was perfect. But now he noticed the slump to your posture, and the way your shoulders were tense and hunched. How long had those dark circles been under your eyes? Bakugou startled as he realized that whatever was bugging you clearly wasn’t just a today problem. Something had been going on for a very long time and he hadn’t noticed. How had he not noticed? He moved to inch closer to touch you, to hold and comfort his alpha. You held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“It’s alright. I know. I’m sorry I’m saying this today, that wasn’t what I had planned. But there wasn’t a good time before, and you were clearly so miserable tonight…” You blew a heavy breath out, glancing at the omega before looking away. “It’s time. Probably long overdue.”

Bakugou made a strangled little sound in the back of his throat as he stared, wide eyed. What was happening? This couldn’t be real. You were his alpha. His Y/N. Maybe… Maybe if he was honest with himself, things hadn’t been great when he had started out at being a pro hero, but that was over now. It was okay now. Things had calmed down. You were meant to be together! Katsuki took a step, reaching for you again. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

You took a step back, away from him. “It’s over, Katsuki. It’s over and that’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay!

“I know things might be awkward around the apartment,” you continued, “but it’s only for a little while. I’ve been offered a job, and I’ve taken it. I’ll be moving in a month. I’ll try to stay out of your hair until then.”

Bakugou’s mind screamed. He was frozen, his mind refusing to process what was going on. You were leaving? Leaving him in every single way? Where were you going and leaving him behind? When had you planned all this? What had happened for him not to notice his alpha was slipping away from him? Katsuki whined quietly. You winced and looked away.

“I’m sorry for saying this all tonight, but it needed to be said. I’m sorry.” You glanced his way, giving him a watery smile. “Goodbye, Katsu. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that you turned and walked away, your pace increasing until you had broken out into a run. Katsuki remained where he was, sinking down until he was kneeling on the peer. He stared after you until he couldn’t see you any more. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t… He pulled the small velvet box from his pocket and opened it with shaking hands. There was the ring he had picked out, just for you. From the light of fireworks that still flashed overhead he could just barely make out the inscription that he had asked for. “Forever.” Bakugou bit into his fist to muffle his howls of anguish.

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

It was strange, packing up. So many artifacts of your life that you have walked by and lived with every day without paying attention to you were forced to hold and consider. Take, toss, or give away. Some stuff was easy choices. You had packed your books up, and sorted through your clothing to figure out what you were going to take with you. But some things were harder than they should be. Like this. You held the unopened toothbrush package in your hands, turning it over and over. You had bought it years ago, when you had just moved it. It was for Katsuki if he ever stayed the night. And here it was, still unopened. It would be a waste to throw it away, unused. But you couldn’t stand to take it with you. You threw it into the give away box with an aggravated sigh. You had known this was going to be difficult, but it was even worse than you had anticipated. So many things in your living space reminded you of the blond that you were leaving behind. The little orange knick knacks you bought because they reminded you of him. The first edition runs of his very first hero merch. The dusty omega nesting kit that was hidden in the back of your closet. There were so many artifacts of your former plans and dreams, and each one hurt in a new way. The smell didn’t help.

You were certain you were imagining it, but lately it seemed like your apartment always smelled faintly of burnt caramel. It was a major reason you stayed away whenever you weren’t packing. It made you feel guilty, even though you were certain you were doing the right thing. He didn’t need you clinging on to him. He didn’t want you hanging on, and he had made that clear time and time again. And now? Now you had to figure out how to live in a world where Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t your sun and moon. You’d figure it out. Somehow. If you could just get that damned smell of caramel out of your nose.

You threw half empty containers of food and spices into the trash with more force than necessary. Maybe if you got rid of the food you had laying around the food smells would go away. You still had three weeks until you’d be moving, but there was enough savings in your account that you could eat out and live on the basics until you were settled in your new place. Or you supposed you could cook at Denki’s. You had offered to help him pack since his schedule was busier than yours. He was going to put in his transfer notice any day now.

You stilled and stared out the window without really looking at anything as you became lost in thought. It was something you hadn’t really processed before. The first time you were going to be moving in with someone, and it was going to be Denki. And it was going to stay Denki for the rest of your lives, or that was the plan at least. It was strange to think about. You could picture it though. Picture Denki and his grin. Imagine chaotic nights with Mario Kart and junk food. A slight blush tinted your cheeks at how easy it was to imagine what your future kids could look like. It wouldn’t be a bad life. It would take time. But you think the two of you could make it good. The friendship was there, and strong. Maybe, with each other's help, you could both let go. Heal. Maybe even come to truly love each other with time.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost time for you to go to work. You planned on giving them a couple more weeks. There honestly wasn’t much to do this time of year, but it got you out of the apartment, and that was something you really needed right now. You glanced around, deciding to leave your sorting as it was for now. In just a couple minutes, you were out of the apartment and on your way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten minutes after noon. You should be gone by now. Bakugou had listened, pressing his ear to his door. He cursed the building’s soundproofing when he couldn’t hear anything. He was desperate for any sign of you. But he didn’t quite dare confront you. How could he face you? In the span of an evening you had turned his entire world on its head. He had thought you were good. That the two of you had been as solid in your relationship as you had been when it had all started. But then you had said…

You had…

You were…

A whine creeped out of his throat.

The past week hadn’t felt like reality. He’d gone to work on autopilot, focusing on the job in a way that didn’t allow him to think of anything else. His friends hadn’t started asking questions yet, thanks to how busy work had been. Bakugou never thought he’d be grateful for an increase in villain activity, yet here he was. But when his shift was over and he had to go home, that was when your words replayed for him over and over again. He spent hours curled in his nest, barely leaving. He still ate, drank, shuffled to the bathroom. He cared for himself enough that he could still go to work without anybody questioning too much. The only other thing he spent any time doing, he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he couldn’t stop himself. Here he was, going to do so again for the fourth day in a row.

Bakugou crept out of his own apartment. He knew you were long gone from the building, but his guilty conscience kept him moving quickly and quietly until he reached his goal.

Unlocking your apartment was easy. He wondered if you had forgotten you had given him a key when you had first moved in. Maybe you thought he had forgotten or hadn’t cared. Bakugou used to think he understood you pretty well. He wasn’t so sure anymore. He crept in, glancing around. More of your things were gone.

Bakugou whined quietly as he walked further into your apartment. The air stank of burnt and bitter chocolate. If you were so upset you smelled like this, how had he not noticed? He began carefully sifting through the piles that appeared to be for donating. He grabbed a couple old shirts that smelled strongly of you. He tried not to let it hurt when he noticed one of the shirts was an old tshirt you had stolen from him years ago. He knelt on the floor just staring for some time. This was real. You had broken up with him. And now you were getting rid of your memories together and were going to leave. He might never get to see you again. Might never smell your scent again. Or worse, see you with someone else. Smell someone else’s scent on your skin.

Katsuki didn’t fight his tears as he grabbed as many things as he thought he could get away with without it being noticed. In minutes he was back in his apartment, desperately tucking everything into his nest. The smell might last him a while, but not forever. He curled up tightly, pressing his nose into a place where your scent was strong. He couldn’t do this forever. He didn’t know what he could do. As much as he hated to admit it, it was time to ask for help.

And that is all for this time, my darlings! More is in the works and hopefully will get to you much sooner than this part did. Katsuki is starting to pull his head out of his ass, hopefully it's a trend that will continue. TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @luajosephdun-blog, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness, @lonelyheart-clubband, @katsuki-cait, @moonwritters26, @animexholic, @kyrah-williams, @emilymikado, @wolvesblaxe360, @ficklemcselfish, @helena-way07, @fandomsaremylifesposts, @baby-bakuhoe, @sukeraa, l@ucypevensie11, @idk-sam, @katsuki-cait, @weirdestlove, @sasa-slayer, @anime-for-live, @kaidousimp, @bluesdustyflames, @vitheria, @milktea0208, @maristaymulti, @whatdidshesayyy, @memesbyeloise , @fandomsgotmefucked, @killmehe, @shy-panda02 , @skylan666, @missmolliemoo, @misssugarless, @arcticsakura, @queenondeezmatatas, @lordmypantsaresocool, @bluesdustyflames, @am-198, @hornelittleweeblet2, @joonie-centric

Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I’d have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams III

.I am not entirely sure about this chapter, if I’m completely honest, so I’ll probably rewrite it at a later time. If you want to get added to the taglist just let me know! Thanks for your continuos support with this fic, it honestly gives me so much life right now! *** Chapter 3

“There seem to still be a few things you haven’t seen.” Lady Dimitrescu stated after you reached the sitting room.

“It’s not everyday that you see girls turn into a swarm of bugs. I’ve seen a lot, but I never said I have seen everything.”

“Which brings me to the question that I want answered. What are you? My first guess would be that you are a vampire, like me and my daughters, but I have a feeling that that isn’t true. Sit down please, so that I can take a look at your wound.” Her tone brooked no argument, so you did as you were told and rolled up the leg of your pants. You winced when you saw the true extend of the damage. Even with enhanced healing it would take a few hours to properly heal.

“My biological father was a scientist, who researched a lot of occult and supernatural topics. He was also a massive asshole who thought it okay to experiment on his own baby daughter, so there’s that. I don’t know how, but someone he got his hands on the DNA of some creature no one really has a name for, but I have a guess. The only thing he really knew, was that they are like Vampires, but much more powerful.

He injected me with the DNA when I was four, but nothing happened, so I was deemed a failure. He did all kinds of tests on me, to see if the DNA would activate, but it didn’t. At least not until he tried to kill me. I was no stranger to torture after he failed, but that night I knew he came to finish it. I was 10, and I was scared and angry, so much so, that something in me broke. There wasn’t much left of him after I was finished. 

I’ll spare you most of the details of what happened after, since it is not relevant for what you want to know, and I hate the feeling of being exposed when I don’t know if I can trust the person in front of me. I ran away and my benefactor found me and took me in. I don’t know how, but somehow, he knew what I had become, and he took it upon himself to make sure that I got the best training I could get. I can somewhat use my enhanced abilities, but I am not completely awakened. I’ll get to that part shortly. 

After 6 years I was deemed ready to repay the favor and got sent on a hunt for rare artifacts, as I mentioned earlier. I was free to research my condition whenever the opportunity arose, and I did. I traveled the whole world, met all kinds of creatures and people, yet no one could help me with my predicament. That was until 8 months ago, when I found the first real clue. But that clue came with a price and I have been cursed. 

I still don’t have a name for the creature that I have become, but I found an old text that explained a lot to me. My kind won’t fully awaken until they bond themselves to another being, that has roughly the same power that we have. That’s where the curse made things more complicated: If I try to bond with anyone that isn’t my destined mate, I will die. Slowly and painfully. 

And if that isn’t enough, the curse took the ability to sense my mate away from me, at least in the traditional sense. Usually, we will know our mate by smell alone, for their blood will sing to us like nothing else ever could. We would feel a strong pull towards them, and they to us, for our blood will be just as exquisite to them, as theirs is to us. The curse took that ability away from me, and now I am destined to walk the earth, waiting for my mate to find me. 

Another side effect is what I call ‘boiling blood’. When I feel threatened enough it will activate and temporarily awaken me. I can’t control it though, and that is the problem. It only happened once so far, and that was when someone I care a great deal for, got hurt. But I have it under control for the most part. I just don’t like it when people I care about get hurt, I lost myself even before the curse happened. And I do understand if you deem me to dangerous and kick me out of the castle. You wouldn’t be the first one.” You ended lamely and sighed. It always took a lot out of you when you talked about the past. 

“You mentioned that you have a theory about what exactly you are?” Alcina asked and gently patted your dressed wound. You suppressed the gentle shiver that wanted to roll down your body and said, “I think I am a Vampire, but one of the first generation.”

***

“And what makes you think that?” Alcina asked carefully. You pondered that for a moment, her eyes never leaving you. She could see that it took a toll on you to tell her all that, and she could understand that. Admitting what had happened couldn’t be easy, especially when there was the possibility that you would be thrown out or worse. Alcina didn’t plan on doing either of those things though, and she would tell you soon enough. An idea was forming in her head.

“I read a lot about vampires and had my fair share of encounters, none of them as nice as the one with you, so I figured it must be something like that. Whenever a Vampire turns someone, a miniscule part of their DNA gets implanted in the one they’ve turned. That is why your Maker will always be stronger than you. But since I got way more DNA with fathers’ experiments, it could mean that I am the first person who got turned into a Vampire of the first generation. And if not first, then second, which would still be infinitely more powerful than a Vampire of third or fourth generation. Although I can’t be sure, since I destroyed everything that could give me a clue, when I killed my father.” You said silently, looking at the floor. Alcina couldn’t help but feel pity for you. A bad hand was dealt to you, and you just tried to live your life. She also admired how strong and confident you were, even after all that had happened.

“I have an offer for you.” Alcina said and put two fingers under your chin to make you look at her, ignoring your blush.

“Stay here. You have nowhere else to go, right? You fascinate me and I want to know more about your abilities if you are willing to show me. And I could use a hand to help me in the castle’s upkeep. But make no mistake, my dear. As soon as you show me that you become a threat, I will dispose of you. What do you say?” Alcina asked, but she knew your answer already. She could see it in the softening of your eyes and the spark of hope that flickered in your eyes. You gently nodded and gave her the most brilliant smile she had ever seen. Both of you briefly wondered where that feeling of trust came from, you more than Alcina, but for the moment it was enough.

***

A weird sense of coming home fell over you, when you looked into her eyes, that had gentled with your consent. She could probably kill you with a snap of her fingers, but somehow you got the feeling that she wouldn’t. Most people feared you when you told them what you were, not all of them humans either. But she gave you the feeling of safety, no matter what your nature was, and you wondered. Could she be the one that was fated to be with you? Or was that just wishful thinking, because she showed you kindness where everybody else would only show you fear and hatred? You were immensely attracted to her, that’s for sure, but could she be the one? 

“I want to see the full extend of your abilities as fast as possible if you don’t mind. If it is alright with you, I would arrange a little sparring session between you and my daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu said and took a seat on the chaise lounge in front of you. 

“I wouldn’t mind. It has been far too long since someone has offered me a challenge, so I will gladly accept, my Lady. My wound should be fully healed by tomorrow, so we can start first thing if you’d like,” you offered, eager to show her what you were capable of. Maybe she will keep you around for longer if you show her that you would be a valuable asset to her castle.

“I would like that very much, my dear. But now is time for you to eat and rest, as it is rather late. The day has been rather long and eventful, not just for you.”

“Of course, my Lady,” you smile and as if on cue, the door to the sitting room opened and one of the daughters entered the room with two plates. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nostrils. The two of you ate in companionable silence, and soon enough it was time to leave her presence for the night. 

The guest room she showed you was like nothing you have ever slept in before. You were used to all sorts of places to sleep, but never have you seen a bed so big and comfortable looking.

“Good Night, my dear. I hope you sleep well,” Lady Dimitrescu said and left you to your own devices before you could answer her. You dressed down to your tank top and shorts and fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as your head hit the pillow.

***

When you next opened your eyes, you were surrounded by the familiar darkness of your dreamscape, yet something felt different. You could sense a presence at the edge pf your consciousness and soon enough, a gentle voice spoke to you “So you finally found her.”

“Huh?” you asked into the darkness, chills running down your spine. The voice giggled and a shadow crept into the edge of your vision, which soon turned into a girl, that oddly enough, had somewhat of a resemblance to you.

“Who are you?”

“You’ll have to find that our for yourself. But what matters is, that you have finally found her. My Alcina,” the girl said and looked close to tears, although she was still smiling.

“Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think that Lady Dimitrescu belongs to anyone.” You said, defensive of the Lady. That made the girl laugh again, and you couldn’t get over the fact that she looked so much like yourself.

“You are right. But she was mine, as I was hers, a long time ago. Listen, the castle’s magic is strong, but not strong enough to give me enough time to explain everything. Just trust me, okay? Stay by her side, no matter what. Protect her. But most important: Take care of yourself. She lost us too many times already, but maybe you are the one that will break this hellish circle.” 

“I-I don’t understand!” you said desperately, trying to reach for the girl, but she was already fading.

“We will speak to each other again when the time is right. Until then, remember my words. Please protect her. Do what we couldn’t do and survive.” Were her parting words before you awoke, drenched in cold sweat. What the fuck was that?

But no matter how hard you tried to grasp at your dream and its implications, you felt your consciousness fading and fell back into a deep slumber.

***** Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Any fics of John and Sherlock going to therapy together? Can be established relationship or pre-relationship, but Johnlock endgame? Thanks for all you do for the fandom Steph, you're brill 💜💜

Hey Nonny!

Ahhh all I have are the ones in my Fake Relationship lists. I’ve probably missed some :P Feel free to add any I missed! <3

JOHNLOCK in COUPLE’S COUNSELLING / THERAPY

Rainbow Hearts Retreat by PajamaSecrets (E, 11,638 w., 8 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Undercover, Fluff and Smut, Bed-Sharing, Therapy, Humour/Crack, First Time) – "It's a same-sex couples retreat. For those experiencing troubles in their relationship. Consists of group and couples therapy as well as encouraging socialization between the couples. It's all in their incredibly dull brochure." "Rainbow Hearts Retreat," John read. "Sounds… quite gay."

Till Death Do Us Part by prettysailorsoldier (M, 15,390 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Christmas, Fluff) – When Sherlock links a recent spree of murder-suicides to a psychologist who specializes in marriage counseling, there's really only one thing to do: Go undercover as a couple in hopes of drawing the killer out. Faking a relationship seems easy enough, but things take a turn when their real issues start to creep into the sessions, and, all the while, a killer is watching, waiting in the shadows for their chance to strike.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst (T, 47,798 w., 9 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Post TRF Angst) – Sherlock and John go undercover to solve the murder of Joanna Oldacre, but things are complicated by the many feelings John has been repressing in the wake of Sherlock's faked death and return.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

A Case of Identity by jkay1980 (T, 91,009 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, Case Fic) – John and Sherlock have succeeded in rebuilding their friendship after Sherlock’s fake suicide, but an unusual case puts their relationship to the test. They pretend to be engaged and attend a marriage counseling workshop. Under the pretext of the case, Sherlock turns out to be a master of seduction, and John finally learns he might like Sherlock more than he thought. Slowly, John discovers that he loves Sherlock not only in a friendly, brotherly way, but both men have to fight their own demons before they can think of taking their relationship to a new level…

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

[alia-turin]

Request:  I wish you would write a fic where Caranthir and Imlerith are being requested by their commander to capture a human sorceress, who is known for her healing powers, compel her to divulge her secrets and spells and then kill her, but things take an unexpected turn

Honestly guys I feel so bad because you sent these awesome requests and I feel like butcher them and turn them upside down :D 

In any case couple of notes - big HC that I was introduced to is that despite everything Imlerith has soft side for animals, so I’m sorry if he sounds a bit OOO, but that whole thing is really about his soft side. If you want more Imlerith + animals, please check out @erinbeast . I have also put some ideas for Caranthir that come from an old fic I posted and another fic I’m currently working on (which I might never post but there is that). I hope y’all enjoy tagging you 

AO3 Link

Warning: mentioning of injured animal 

Caranthir stepped through the portal and Imlerith followed. Neither of them was wearing their armor, at least not in full. His friend still wore gauntlets instead of gloves and some of the metal around his legs and torso. Caranthir on the other hand was more practical, no amount of armor was going to protect them where they were going so he was just wearing his normal clothes and a cloak. He knew roughly where their final destination was supposed to be, but he wasn’t sure so he ended up getting them in the forest and they were going to figure the rest.

“I still don’t understand what Eredin’s problem with that particular sorceress is.” Imlerith groaned as Carathir led the way. He could sense the bitch so it wouldn’t be that difficult to find her at that point.

“Does it matter?” they were alone, even the usual forest sounds were somehow dulled around them. He couldn’t hear birds, just the wind brushing against the leaves. “She is a human sorceress, she is better off dead.”

Imlerith raised an eyebrow but the younger man did not see him as he was leading. Since Caranthir had joined the Red Riders the two of them had become friends. He had trained him to use a sword and spear, art Caranthir never mastered, but he had become damn good with that staff of his even when he was not using magic. He had also seen him grow, become more of a Red Rider compared to the skinny kid who left Avallac’h.

“For someone who uses magic you hate other mages way too much. Jealous they might be better than you?” He mocked but also that was something Imlerith never fully understood. One day something had snapped in Caranthir. The man never showed any real hate to anything but Avallac’h, at most he would just show lack of interest in things which in Caranthir’s cold mind was probably equal to hate. But then something happened, first it was just the darker mood but then during one of their raids he saw the Navigator break the skull of a human sorcerer. Imlerith liked violence, he inflicted it however he could, it made his blood running, but that had been something new from Caranthir. Maybe their friendship was rubbing on him or maybe it was just the Eredin effect.

“There isn’t anybody who is better…” Caranthir suddenly stopped. “Do you hear that?”

Imlerith looked around and focused, he could hear it. It sounded like a dog whining somewhere close. Without thinking Imlerith traced the sound and Caranthir was following.

It didn’t take them too far until they found the wolf lying on a bed of leaves and dirt. It was injured, an arrow was sticking from one of its hind legs and another one from its abdomen. Imlerith’s jaw clenched. He liked hunting, but he never did it for sport, it had always been for food or fur and he always made sure to finish his kill fast. He had no issue killing humanoid creatures in an extremely painful way, he even took pleasure in it, but animals were innocent. Whoever did not finish that kill deserved slow and painful death.

The wolf looked at them and showed them his teeth but he looked weak. Imlerith stepped closer, the arrow in the leg did not seem so bad, but the one in the abdomen...that was nasty wound.

Caranthir just looked at the other man as he approached the wolf, the animal was growling, but there was no bite, no danger to it.

“Imlerith, it’s dying, mercy is the best thing you can do for it.” He knew his friend felt some kinship to animals. Everyone always thought Imlerith to be mindless brute, Eredin’s rabid dog, but that was just part of the story. There is a side that almost nobody had seen.

“Maybe Avallac’h should have shown you some mercy.” the other man pointed at his face where Caranthir’s scars were.

“Maybe your mother should have shown some mercy when she saw you are barely intelligent to get dressed.” the Navigator bit back without hesitation. That’s what they did, Imlerith made fun of the scars on his face, the only person he tolerated to do that, and he made fun of Imlerith’s intelligence, just like true brothers.

Caranthir sighed. He wasn’t heartless, he just didn’t see a point in letting the poor animal suffer. He knelt next to Imlerith and placed a hand on the wolf’s head despite the sharp teeth that were barren.

“What are you doing?” Imlerith grabbed his wrist and squeezed.

“I’m not killing it. I can relate to the need to protect innocence and purity in its clearest form.” Imlerith had no idea what that meant. Caranthir had the habit to speak like Avallac’h at times, half of a conversation that made no sense to anyone. He made fun of him for that, but not now. The navigator freed his hand and placed it on the wolf again. Second later the animal was asleep and the laboured breathing was calmer. “We can break the arrows, but we should not pull them out, we need to deal with that bitch, which would be a quick job and then we can take it to Tir na Lia. It should be asleep for about two hours and it doesn’t feel pain, just make sure it doesn’t lose any more blood, because that will kill it.”

Caranthir didn’t have much hope for the animal surviving, judging by the blood around, it had been like that for some time, and his healing powers have always been the weakest from his many talents.

Imlerith scooped the wolf in his arm and followed Caranthir. He constantly looked at the animal to make sure it was still breathing. He decided he would name it Treise, a strong name for a beast like that. It wasn’t too long when they found an old log cabin deep in the woods. Caranthir did not stop, the man had no fear from some human witch, Imlerith followed but left the wolf outside, to prevent any further harm. He had seen mages fight and he also knew the pleasure Caranthir felt in making them suffer.

The Navigator was the first to enter the log cabin, bending his neck in an awkward position to get through the human sized door. Nothing impressive inside, wooden table, chairs, a bed in the far corner. The bitch was sitting next to the fireplace and turned in surprise when they walked in.

“Who…” she started a question, but he never allowed her to finish. His first attack knocked her on the ground, he wasn’t going to kill her, he was going to take his time.

Imlerith watched as Caranthir attacked the witch, she was a pretty thing for a human, small and fragile. A predator grin decorated his lips. Maybe he would let Caranthir have his fun using her to mop the floor and then he will have his type of fun.

“Wait!” the woman was on her hands and knees, her hair was a mess and there was blood running from her mouth. “I can help you.” Caranthir laughed mockingly. “I know you brought an injured animal with you, I can sense it, I’m a healer, I can help.”

Without hesitation Imlerith placed a hand on the navigator’s shoulder. Caranthir turned toward him, there was cold fire burning in his eyes. Funny how usually the roles were reversed. It had always been the younger man stopping him, but now Imlerith had other concerns than simple bloodlust.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, digging his fingers a bit deeper in the other man’s shoulder, his hand sinking in the soft first of his cloak.

“I cannot beat him.” she nodded at Caranthir. “And I don’t know why you are here but it isn’t for fortune reading. I help your wolf, you let me live.”

“No.” Caranthir said, almost offended.

“Deal.” Imlerith spoke at the same time and they both exchanged looks.

The woman wasn’t stupid and she did not wait for the two of them to sort their small differences. She got on her feet with visible effort and slowly limped toward the door.

“Please tell me the plan is to let her heal the wolf and then we kill her?” Caranthir said through his teeth, his jaw clenched. Imlerith did not answer. He wasn’t sure what the plan was. “You will tell Eredin. I’m not dealing with that.”

When they went out Caranthir walked to the nearest tree and pressed his back against it, his arms crossed over his chest, his cold eyes just pinned on the woman.

“It’s very weak.” the witch said as she placed her hand on the animal.

“Oh great, it’s very weak. Must have missed that.” the navigator said sarcastically, Imlerith couldn’t stop the smile on his lips.

The woman ignored them and started working. She pulled what was left from the arrows, thick blood started pooling on the fur but she worked quickly. She chanted a spell and pulled some herbs from her pocket that she applied to the wounds. Couple of minutes later she got up, the animal was still asleep and Imlerith got worried for a moment. Did she trick them? Did she kill the wolf as a final ‘fuck you’? If that was the case, whatever Caranthir was planning to do to her, would be nothing compared to what he would do to her.

“I cannot do anything about the lost blood.” she finally said. “And I cannot wake it up because of his spell. But once it wakes up it will be weak, it won’t be able to take care of itself until its body recovers from the loss.”

Caranthir forced an arrogant smile on his lips. Of course she couldn’t she was just a stupid human mage. It was surprising that Imlerith had been so...soft, between the two of them he had always been the nicer one, had he changed so much? No, it wasn’t that. He felt pity for the animal as well and didn’t really want it to die, but he was the logical one, Imlerith was impulsive. Where was Avallac’h now to see him? Where was his old teacher to call him rash?

“Am I free to go?” the woman asked, her eyes shifting between the two of them. Imlerith nodded, Caranthir was not really sold on the idea, but nodded as well.

He opened a portal and waited for Imlerith to grab the wolf and step through it, then he followed. They went straight to Imlerith’s apartments in the castle in Tir na Lia.

“We are not telling Eredin.” his friend finally said as he gently placed the wolf on his bed. He had never seen Imlerith being gentle with anything.

“We are not telling Eredin.” Caranthir repeated. “You are telling Eredin.”

“No.” Imlerith was still looking at the wolf. “We are waiting for a couple of days, and then we will do what we were supposed to do.”

After Caranthir didn’t speak for a while, he turned to make sure the navigator was still there.

“Why?” the younger man finally asked.

“Because that wolf means more to me than any other life out there and I’m paying her by giving her a couple of days.” Imlerith wasn’t sure if the navigator understood, neither of them was affectionate to anything. He expressed his emotions with violence and Caranthir...emotions did not come easy with him.

Caranthir nodded. He could relate, probably the reason he reacted the way he did was just because he did not expect Imlerith to be so...kind. But he could understand the desire to protect something.

[agentlemuse]

Dea!!! I am so in love with your Buddie the old guard fic I've read it so many times now I LOVE IT could you maybe write a little sequel to it with Eddie whitnessing Buck dying and coming back to life for the first time! No pressure obvs but you'd make me super happy! thanks again for writing the buddie old guard au fic ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Hayley I am so sorry for making you wait!

Also on AO3

“How much are you willing to wager,” Hen challenges, her own stack of bills being dropped on the table like a declaration of war.

Chim eyes everyone carefully, emptying out all the money in his wallet with a confident pop of his gum. “I’m all in. Buck?”

“All in. Eddie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on! It’s tradition,” Buck begs, practically pouting as he tries to get Eddie to join in on the bet. He refuses every time and every time Buck acts surprised.

“Pretty sure the only tradition here is them getting all of your money,” Eddie points out with a smirk, earning a sharp laugh from Athena.

“You are too young to be this lame,” Buck sighs dramatically as Eddie rolls his eyes. He might be lame, but at least he will keep his money.

Just like that Hen is crowing as Buck laments his defeat. He looks to him with wide eyes in hopes of sympathy but all Eddie can do is laugh. He did warn him.

Athena and Bobby were chuckling fondly from their spot in the corner, speaking to each other without saying a word as they do often do. After one night of partaking in too much of Hen’s sangria he asked Buck if they had developed telepathic powers and Buck laughed so hard he snorted red wine out his nose. Considering their immortal status he didn’t think it was quite that funny, but Buck disagreed.

Looking at them now he still says it was a valid question.

“Okay everyone listen up,” Athena announces, drawing the attention of everyone with the simple command. “We have some news.”

“New job,” Buck asks eagerly, already wanting to speed ahead.

Bobby and Athena share a sad look and for the first time since Eddie has known them they look like they’re struggling to find the words to say. Athena stands, picking at a scab on her arm.

A scab.

She shouldn’t have a—

“I’m mortal.”

It’s funny how you can live for a millennia and a single moment can still knock you to your knees.

Athena could still have three, maybe even four, decades with them, but suddenly each moment is finite. He knew this was possible, Buck had told him about Abby, but it wasn’t real until now.

He may not know her as well as the others; hasn’t watched dynasties rise and fall with her, but she’s his family now. He foolishly thought he’d have more time before saying goodbye to family again.

But it’s not about him. It’s about Athena. It’s about the people who have loved her for centuries trying to wrap their minds around life without her.

Eddie doesn’t know much about Buck’s parents, partly because there isn’t much worth remembering from the way Buck tells it, but Athena is his mother for all intents and purposes. Now that she’s - not vulnerable (she’d stab him for even thinking it) - mortal, Buck has been like an overprotective mother hen. Athena has looked ready to strangle him on more than one occasion and he’s pretty sure the fussing is more likely to take years off her life than anything else.

And it’s sweet. Funny even, how Athena looks at him with such exasperated fondness.

Only that overprotectiveness makes a reckless Buck even more reckless.

Which, fine, Buck’s immortal. For now. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? The idea that immortality just ends was hypothetical before now.

And Buck is—

Buck is—

Buck is his family. His person. The only reason he doesn’t spend this eternity of his lamenting every new day.

Buck has been on this earth for nearly a millennia without him, but Eddie doesn’t want to live without him. Not for a thousand years or a thousand days or even a thousand minutes. Not because he needs Buck, but because he wants him. He wants his kind eyes and infectious laughter beside his side. He wants the feel of his breath on the back of his neck as he lays curled in behind him. He’s not sure he can go back to sleeping alone.

A shame he’ll need roughly a thousand years to figure out a way to finally tell him, which is not going to happen with Buck being so eager to get himself killed.

Buck insists on throwing himself into danger, which means Eddie has to throw himself further. He’s younger, newer, he can take more hits. He knows logically that Buck must have died hundreds of times before him, but he hasn’t died since Eddie killed him. Maybe he can’t keep him alive forever, but he can certainly try.

Bobby catches on first.

“Nasty hit you took today.”

“I’ve had worse,” Eddie says nonchalantly, fingers flexing against a phantom wound long since healed. Buck stormed out earlier, pissed he jumped in front of a bullet for him only to bleed out slowly. Tonight Buck will hold him closer, making sure he’s still in one piece; a bittersweet ritual they’ve formed together. He’ll take the anger if it keeps Buck safe.

“You’ve been taking a lot of hits lately.”

“Saying I should work on my ducking skills?”

“Saying you can’t take them all,” Bobby replies, cutting off whatever comment he might be opening his mouth to say with a look. “When is the last time Buck died?”

“You should ask—“

“When?”

“When I shot him,” Eddie admits, jaw clenching.

“He’s had a good run, but good runs end. He knows what’s at stake just like everyone else. We can’t outrun the inevitable. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try,” Bobby says softly, an unspoken pain behind his eyes. “Don’t miss out on the good worrying about the bad.”

“Wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t so eager to put himself in harm’s way,” Eddie deflects, no real malice in his words.

“Funny, that’s what Buck said about Athena.”

That was hardly the same. Buck is being reckless, Eddie is just—

Well it’s not like he can take care of him through his cooking, now can he?

The next few months they take it easy on the missions, focusing on time together as a family. It’s good, great even, but it’s only a matter of time before the world has a need for their set of skills.

Which is how they find themselves in this dimly lit warehouse in what is clearly a trap.

He and Buck have taken the front, trying to clear a path to the escape route so they can’t get pinned in. The sharp pops of bullets flood his ears, a fog of plaster dust filling the air as bullets lodge in walls instead of bone.

There are too many blind spots and not enough cover.

There’s shouting, cries of pain, but none of them familiar. They’re gaining ground, they’re getting out, they’re—

The sick sound of a bullet striking flesh, muscle, bone enters his ear. A spray of blood hits his cheek.

Eddie turns to see Buck crumple against the ground.

Suddenly there is no noise, no friends or foes. There was only Buck lifeless on the floor, his head a gaping wound of brain matter and skull.

He falls to his knees beside him, blood soaking his trousers as he reaches out to help him. Only, he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Buck, wake up. Buck. Buck.” He doesn’t recognize his voice, doesn’t recognize the frantic panic of this strange sound coming out of his mouth.

He thinks of all those zombie movies he used to watch with his sisters when he was young. The only way to kill them was to take out the brain. They couldn’t come back from that. Buck couldn’t—

Eddie shot him in the head once, but this was different. There hadn’t been this hole. There hadn’t been brain matter scattered across the floor. Buck hadn’t taken this long to wake up.

He can’t do this without him. He doesn’t want to do this without him.

“Wake up, wake up, you have to wake up,” Eddie demands, then begs.

“Eddie, we have to keep going,” Chim says from across the room, providing cover from enemies he couldn’t care less about. “He’ll catch up.”

He ignores him. Of course he ignores him. He can’t leave Buck. He’s going to wake up, he has to, so why is it taking so long?

The team moves on, because there is no other choice if they want to get out of here, but Eddie doesn’t move. He waits for a sign of life, anything, but Buck stays perfectly still. He should be healing already, blue eyes fluttering and a smile on his lips. He shouldn’t be so still and pale under the stark stream of red.

He’s so lost waiting for puffs of air that aren’t coming he misses the footsteps behind him. It’s not until he feels rough hands grabbing at him that he remembers the fight. He feels a knife slide through his ribs as they try to drag him back. He thrashes wildly, scrambling for any weakness he can exploit. They’re not going to take him away from Buck. He’s not leaving him alone. He’s not—

A single shot rings out and the man Eddie was fighting falls.

Eddie turns back to Buck who is sitting up with a gun in hand.

Eddie scrambles over to him, pulling him close, feeling the side of his head to make sure he’s whole.

“Eddie, we need to catch up with the others,” Buck urges, already back in the game. How can he be so calm? How can he be so steady? “Eddie. Eddie.”

“Your birthmark grew back.”

Buck’s face grows soft for a moment, letting out a puff of breath like it was punched out of him. Eddie can feel the wound on his side healing, but he ignores it, busy feeling the pulse of Buck’s heartbeat where his hand rests on Buck’s neck.

“Eddie, we have to keep going.”

“You weren’t waking up. You took so long to wake up.”

“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck insists, resting his forehead warm and whole against Eddie’s. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I won’t leave you. Now let’s go.”

Eddie goes with him because there is no other option. He doesn’t want to be anywhere without him.

It doesn’t doesn’t get any easier to watch him die, but Buck always comes back to him. He has to believe he always will.

[erin-bo-berin]

Cabin Fever

MASTERLIST

Here’s a surprise daddy Spencer fic. I couldn’t wait to post this one because I’m so in love with daddy Spencer (shocker I know). This was an anonymous requested fic about the reader and their baby surprising Spencer at work. Enjoy ALL the feels.

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rated: G (tons of daddy Spencer fluff)

Word Count: 3,713

Cries echoed from the bedroom and you jogged up the steps from your quick trip downstairs. Your brows furrowed and mouth turned down in a frown as the cries got louder.

“I’m coming, baby, don’t worry,” you soothed.

You entered the nursery, picking up your baby boy out of his crib. Apparently nap time was over.

“Hi there handsome,” you smiled, cradling him in your arms, “Did you sleep well?”

Motherhood was different than anything else you had experienced before. It was tough, challenging and sleep hardly existed, but you felt such an enormous love for your son that it was worth it all. 

Named after his daddy, Spencer Alexander Reid—Alex for short—was the light of you and your boyfriend Spencer’s life.

It had only been roughly a month since you’d given birth. You’d only been out of the house once with Alex since and that’d been his first doctor’s appointment. You were going a little crazy cooped up in the house while Spencer was at work.

You laid him gently on his changing table, unbuttoning his onesie in preparation to change his diaper.

“How about we not pee on mommy this time, hmm?”

He cooed, waving his arms in the air. You pulled out a new diaper, grabbing an extra to place over his lower half to prevent anymore peeing incidents.

“Would you like to go visit daddy today at work? He’ll be so surprised to see you.”

You gently wiped him clean, picking up his legs with one hand to slide the diaper under his bottom.

“All your aunties and uncles at the BAU will be so happy to see you again too,” you smiled, pulling the tabs of the diaper closed.

“They won’t believe how big you’ve gotten since the last time they saw you.”

He made a few little grunts, kicking his legs.

Spencer’s work family had come to visit you and Alex in the hospital. You were so touched by all the love and excitement they had for the new little “BAU baby”.

You leaned over him, kissing his face repeatedly making him wriggle more. You chuckled, picking him up once again.

“How about a little swing time while mommy gets ready?”

You strapped him in his rocking swing and pulled the contraption close to you to keep an eye on him while you got ready.

It took over an hour just to pack his bag with everything you might need.

Between picking him up to comfort him and trying to figure out all what to bring, the hand on the clock went by faster than you’d realized.

It was after one in the afternoon when you’d finally got out the door.

•

“I knew I sensed baby cuteness from down the hall!”

Penelope Garcia, the BAU’s technical analyst was the first to find you sitting in the briefing room, Alex in his carrier on the table.

“We thought we’d surprise Spence at work. I didn’t see any of the team in the bullpen, so I just thought I’d wait in here.”

“Yeah, they’re on the way back from that local Virginia case we’ve been working on,” she said.

“You finally caught the guy?”

“Oh yeah, a real bad one, but aren’t they all? Enough of the bad stuff though because I have got to hold that little bundle of joy.”

You smiled, unfastening the buckles of his carrier, picking him up and handing him to Garcia.

“Hello, little guy. When did you get so big?”

She cuddled him close, baby talking to him.

“Y/N?”

You looked up and saw Spencer and the rest of the team walking in the room.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting! Are you still bleeding as badly as you were this morning? Did you see the postpartum pads I left for you?”

“Spencer,” you flushed, eyeing the rest of his team, embarrassed.

“Don’t even worry, Y/N. Been there, done that.”

The comment came from JJ as she breezed in, waving a hand in the air like it wasn’t a big deal before coming over and hugging you tight.

“Twice as a matter of fact,” she continued, “It does eventually go away, by the way.”

“Does it? Cause I feel like it never will,” you groaned.

“Y/N,” Spencer’s tone was stern, but concerned.

“Okay, okay. I was going stir crazy, so I thought we'd surprise daddy at work.”

He smiled, coming over to you and wrapping his arms around you, kissing your head.

“As long as you’re feeling okay, though,” he said.

“I am, don’t worry.”

Alex gurgled in Penelope’s arms while the team surrounded her, loving on him.

“Hate to break it to you Reid, but the kid looks nothing like you,” Rossi said.

“Thankfully.”

“Hey,” you hit Spencer’s stomach playfully, “He would’ve been just as cute if he looked like you.”

“He’s the spitting image of you Y/N, I swear,” Tara shook her head.

“How are you sleeping?” Matt asked.

Matt had five kids; he’d been through this quite a few times before.

“Well he’s at least letting us sleep a few hours a night,” you said.

Alex started fussing in Garcia’s arms.

“I think someone wants daddy,” she said, handing him over to Spencer.

“Hi little man, daddy’s missed you,” he kissed Alex’s head, cradling him in his arms.

As if magic, Alex immediately settled, his fussing quieted.

“So Y/N, when are you gonna let me babysit so you two can get started on number 2?” Garcia smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at the two of you.

“As soon as you and Luke have your first one,” you teased.

“Whoa, whoa, hey now,” Luke said putting his hands up, “Garcia and I are more than happy with just Roxy right now, aren’t we bella?”

“Yes,” Garcia nodded, “Doesn’t mean I can't make more room in my heart for another little baby Reid.”

“Penelope, she’s only five weeks postpartum,” Emily broke in, finally walking into the room welcoming you with a hug as well.

“I’m sure she’s not even been cleared to have sex again,” JJ added.

“Guys, we can stay out of my vagina’s business?” you chuckled.

“Technically, it’s your uter-”

“Spencer!” you cut him off.

“I love you guys, but this conversation got weird real fast,” you laughed.

You looked over to see Spencer walking the length of the room with Alex, talking quietly to him.

Most of the team had gone back to the bullpen to work and Emily gave Spencer a few files that he needed to look through later before leaving. Only JJ and Penelope remained in the room.

“Have you been good for mommy today?” Spencer asked rubbing his belly, “She’s having a bit of a hard time after having you. You were quite the big baby, little man. You weighed nine pounds. I’m still amazed that she managed to push you out.”

You chuckled, overhearing a bit of his one sided conversation.

“I can’t get over how great he is at being a dad,” JJ said, watching him, “I mean I knew he always would be, but just seeing it is kinda—”

“Mind blowing?” you filled in, nodding your head in agreement, “I know. Some days it still doesn’t seem real that we actually have a kid.”

“I’m pretty sure if you let him, he’d try babywearing while doing a geo map or something,” Penelope said.

“I don’t doubt it,” you chuckled, “He’s so attached to Alex. It’s almost a good thing he didn’t turn out to be a girl.”

“Why’s that?” JJ questioned.

“Cause she’d have Spencer wrapped around her finger.”

“That’s why I say, baby number 2,” Penelope grinned.

“Maybe when he’s a little older,” you smiled, turning back to watch your two boys.

Spencer was talking animatedly to Alex, making silly faces down at him. Alex was smiling up at him and cooing in response.

“How’s breastfeeding going?” JJ asked.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “So. Much. Pain.”

“Lanolin is a blessing,” she answered.

“Ain’t that the truth,” you nodded, “I pump a lot though because Spence likes to feed him as well. It gets Alex used to a bottle plus it lets Spence bond with him. Two birds, one stone.”

“I did that a lot with Henry and Michael. Will loved to feed them.”

“Luke always leaves feeding Roxy to me,” Garcia grumbled, “Heaven help me if we ever actually have kids.”

As if on cue, Alex started crying.

“Speaking of feeding,” you said, “Sounds like someone is hungry.”

“How the heck do you know that’s his hungry cry?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

You gave him a look.

“Spencer, a mother knows. Besides I’ve learned his cries.”

“Did you bring a bottle?” he asked.

“Does Garfield love lasagna?” you retorted, sarcastically, reaching into the diaper bag to get a bottle.

“Touché,” he laughed.

Alex cried harder, his fists shaking in the air.

“I know buddy, we’re getting a bottle,” Spencer said patting his bottom, swaying him a bit.

He took the uncapped bottle from you and put the nipple to Alex’s lips. His mouth closed around it and he started eating, his cries vanished.

“That’s good stuff isn’t it Alex?” Spencer cooed to him, watching him eat.

JJ and Garcia had slipped out moments before, needing to get back to work. They promised they’d come say bye before you left, though.

Alex kicked his feet while he ate, his eyes roaming the things that were in his sight: Spencer’s face and the ceiling lights.

You sat at the table watching the two of them, a smile on your face. It was moments like this that you wanted to hold on to forever.

“What?” he asked when he noticed you staring.

“Nothing, just enjoying watching my boys.”

Spencer smiled, holding Alex’s small foot in his palm. He tickled it gently causing Alex to yank it away.

“Sorry, bud. Eating is important work.”

You yawned, resting your head in your hand.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

Spencer was good at helping get up with Alex at night, but most of the time you let him sleep since you knew he had work early in the morning.

“I don’t know, three? Four hours?” 

You stifled another yawn.

“He was up around 11 pm at first. I fed him and changed him. Then again at 1 am and didn’t go back to sleep again until almost 3. At 5, he needed a third diaper change of the night, got a second wind and then was out by 6:30. By then you were up.”

“Babe, you need to sleep or else your body will take longer to heal.”

“I know, but it’s hard to sleep when he sleeps. I’m too busy trying to get other things done that I don’t have time to accomplish when he’s awake.”

“What if you take a nap in here and I take him for the afternoon?” he suggested.

“Spence, you’re at work, you can’t.”

“Yes I can. Garcia doesn’t have a new case for us yet and it’s just a lot of paperwork that needs to be done.”

“I don’t know,” you hesitated, “He can be a handful when he’s fighting sleep.”

“Y/N, I got this, okay? You need sleep to function and he needs his mommy to get some sleep. Don’t you, Alex?”

He fussed in response, the nipple having slipped out of his mouth.

“My bad, my bad,” Spencer chuckled, putting it back into his mouth.

“Okay,” you relented, “A nap does sound great.”

“Then it’s settled.” 

He bent down to grab Alex’s diaper bag.

“There’s extra diapers and wipes in there, two more bottles that you should probably put in the fridge, a couple of pacifiers, a blanket if he’s cold, his baby wrap, a change of clothes, a—“

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted you, “Don’t worry, okay? If there’s any problem, I’ll get you. Besides JJ is always around to help with any baby qualms I might have.”

You nodded, moving to sit on the couch in the room.

“Sleep well,” he said, leaning down to kiss you.

You thanked him, your eyelids already beginning to flutter closed. 

You were sound asleep before he even left the room.

•

“Did I miss it being bring your kid to work day?” JJ chuckled, walking up to Spencer’s desk.

Spencer sat at his desk, one arm holding his son, his chin balancing the bottle that Alex was still eating from as he filled out the paperwork that needed to be completed.

“I made Y/N take a nap in the briefing room and told her I’d take Alex for the afternoon. Besides, I secretly think Emily just wants him around so she can hog him later,” Spencer chuckled.

“Well you’re taking multitasking to a new level, that’s for sure.”

“Oh just wait until I start babywearing. It’s a shame I can’t just bring him along with me on cases. I’d have no problem wearing him while doing a geo profile.”

“Funny, Penelope said something on the lines of that.”

“I just feel like I can’t get enough time with him,” he frowned, looking down at him, “I mean he’s already five weeks and I feel like he’s already changed so much.”

He was close to finishing his bottle and he’d have to burp him in a minute.

“They grow up fast, Spence. I wish I could tell you that it gets easier balancing this job and a family, but it isn’t always that simple. What I can tell you is that cherishing the little moments like this are important. You’ll have a million of them, but each and every one is special. No matter where you work, what job you do, you’ll always feel like you’re missing out on something whether you actually are or not. You just learn to enjoy every single moment you get with them,” JJ smiled.

JJ’s boys were no longer babies—now 11 and 4—but she cherished them and her family very much. FBI work did make time for family difficult, but Spencer had always seen her make it work. He knew that if it was possible for her, he could make it work. He loved his little boy so much already and missed him dearly while at work, that’s why a rare afternoon like this was so special to him.

“Thanks, JJ.”

He pulled the empty bottle away from Alex’s mouth, picking him up to burp him.

“If you need me, I’ll just be juggling diapers and paperwork over here,” he grinned.

She snickered, patting him on the shoulder as she walked off, heading to Emily’s office.

“So, what do you think about daddy’s work?”

He tapped his back gently, rubbing circles on Alex’s back. He kept talking as he burped him.

“Pretty impressive, huh? Do you like my desk with all of daddy’s books and pictures of you and mommy?”

Alex fussed, his stomach most likely bothering him. Spencer tapped his back a little harder.

“Come on big man, you’ll feel a lot better if you burp.”

He wriggled against Spencer’s shoulder, fussing more.

“I’m impressed it’s your first day on the job and you’re only five weeks. I didn’t get into the FBI until I was 22.”

It was then that Alex finally burped, big and loud, causing a few smiles and laughs from neighboring agents.

“There we go. You oughta feel better after that.”

Spencer felt a wet spot on his shoulder and groaned, realizing too late he forgot to grab a burp cloth. He sat Alex in his carrier while he tried to wipe the spit up off his shirt.

“You’re lucky you’re cute Alex because I don’t think your spit up compliments the color of this shirt.”

He kicked his legs, shrieking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re proud.” 

But his shrieking didn’t stop there, it soon became fussing which quickly turned into crying. His face scrunched up and his legs thrashed.

“I guess you don’t want to be in your carrier now,” Spencer mused, picking him up.

“Is it nap time for you?”

He glanced at his watch, noticing it was close to 2:30. Y/N usually put him down for an afternoon nap around this time.

“Now I see what mommy was talking about.”

Spencer kissed Alex’s cheek, laying Alex against his chest. One hand rested against his head, supporting his neck while the other laid gently on his back. He looked through the glass window of the briefing room and saw Y/N sound asleep on the couch. He smiled to himself, his heart warming at the sight.

He had so much love for her. From carrying Alex for nine months to working harder than she ever had at something, just to bring him into this world. Now, she sacrificed her own needs to take care of their son. He was glad he’d made her rest; she deserved it more than anything.

Plus, if he was honest, he was thoroughly enjoying his time with Alex.

He rocked back and forth in his desk chair, trying to soothe the stubborn whimpers that still came from Alex.

“Do you want daddy to tell you a story?”

Spencer looked down and saw Alex squirming a bit, trying to get comfortable. He reached for the pacifier on his desk, placing it gently into Alex’s mouth. He immediately started sucking on it, the pacifier moving just the slightest.

“Well once upon a time, daddy delivered a baby. Just like you! It wasn’t you though, unfortunately. Mommy preferred an actual doctor to me, but I did get to cut your umbilical cord. But, I had memorized the manual on childbirth back when your auntie JJ was pregnant with Henry, just in case she went into labor in the field. Anyway, I’m getting distracted.”

His fingers stroked Alex’s tiny clenched hands and smiled when his hand grasped his finger.

“There was this big, bad guy who had hurt a lot of people to prove that he could be a good father. Yeah, it was kind of messed up. But his wife was going to have a baby. In fact, she was in labor when I got there with my old partner Morgan. Her contractions were pretty intense and there was no way she was going to make it to the hospital in time. So while Morgan arrested the bad guy, I helped the lady deliver her baby. Just like you, it was a little boy. Up until then I never thought I’d seen a more beautiful human. But that was before I’d met your mommy and you.”

Alex sighed, his movements becoming more sporadic and his breathing more even. Spencer peeked down and saw his eyelids growing heavy.

“In the end, the mother named her little boy after me. He’s a Spencer like the both of us. Pretty cool, right?”

There was no further sounds from Alex for he was fast asleep, content against his daddy’s chest.

•

When you woke, the sky was already darkening outside.

“Holy crap, how long did I sleep?!”

You looked around for your phone. In the midst of your searching, you didn’t hear anyone walk in.

“It’s around 6 pm.”

You looked up to see Emily walking in, smiling.

“Have a nice nap?”

“Sounds more like I went into a coma,” you laughed, “I’m so sorry about this.”

“Don’t worry,” she waved a hand, “Spence has been parading Alex all over the bullpen all afternoon. He even gave him a tour of the BAU. I think Alex was a little less than impressed though.”

You giggled at the image. You didn’t put it past Spencer for doing that.

“I hope he wasn’t a distraction or any trouble,” you worried.

“Definitely not. I got some obligatory baby snuggles in though.”

“They are the best, aren’t they?” you agreed.

You looked through the window into the bullpen, seeing no sign of Spencer and Alex.

“Would you happen to know where they went?”

“I think they’re in Rossi’s office playing with Alex. Rossi’s teaching him how to play peekaboo.”

“Spencer or Alex?” you joked, causing her to laugh.

You grabbed your phone and purse, saying your goodbyes to her and walked down to Rossi’s office.

“I feel like a grandpa all over again,” you heard Rossi say as you approached, “But I’ve never had a grandchild this young.”

“Well you’re gonna be like his grandpa anyway, whether you like it or not,” Spencer chuckled.

You walked in to the two of them making funny faces at Alex, Alex deadpanning back at them.

“It’s like he’s wondering what the heck is wrong with the two of you,” you laughed.

“Hey, there’s mommy,” Rossi said, turning Alex’s carrier in your direction so he could see you.

Immediately Alex began kicking his legs.

“Hey babe, how’d you sleep? Do you feel better?”

Spencer pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Much better. Thank you for letting me crash on the couch.”

“No problem. Alex and I had quite the afternoon,” Spencer smiled, rocking the carrier gently.

“I never thought I’d see Spencer working a case while wearing a baby,” Rossi said.

“Oh no, you guys got a case? Why didn’t you wake me?”

You felt bad, afraid that you and Alex had gotten in the way.

“Emily wouldn’t let him,” Rossi supplied, “Besides Alex was a complete angel. He was sleeping like it was his job.”

“Thank you guys so much for helping out today.”

You gave Rossi a hug then grabbed the diaper bag, reaching to pick up Alex’s carrier.

“I got him.”

Spencer picked up the baby carrier, following you out of Rossi’s office and down the stairs into the bullpen.

“Well today didn’t turn out like I expected it would,” you noted.

“It was definitely interesting,” Spencer agreed.

“Well I guess I found the best way to cure cabin fever.”

“Yeah?” Spencer turned to you as you walked out of the unit, “What’s that?”

“Joining the BAU for the day.”

Spencer chuckled and looked down at Alex.

“Come on buddy, let’s go home. I think you’ve had quite the long day.”

You smiled as the elevator doors closed behind you. You were already looking forward to spending the evening with your two favorite boys in the world.

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​

[jadethest0ne]

When the Moon meets the Morning, Epilogue - Sky

Summary:  Raphael is going on missions with Captain Jupiter as he always does when he meets an orange-wearing turtle yokai who feels oddly familiar.

Word Count: 1591

Ratings/Warnings: General Audiences; some minor harrowing moments, but mostly fluff, emotional overload, emotional manipulation, self-deprecation

Notes: The last part of this fic! Finishing this up with another nightmare/dream sequence! (so contains some potential distressing imagery). I hoped this adequately wrapped up the beginning of their friendship! I had a lot of fun working on this! But I’m not done with Raph and Mikey yet! I’ve still got roughly 2 more fics in store that will continue to explore their part in the Fantasy AU. Stay tuned! ;3  Big thanks to @undercoverwizardninjaturtle, @fraymotiif, and @5weekdays for helping me workshop this!

Read on AO3 For the RotTMNT Fantasy AU

———-

Raphael is in the village square back by the healing house, but it is strangely silent and devoid of people. No wait. Mikey is over there, looking at him. Mikey looks around. Looks at Raph. Confused.

A large alligator yokai looms behind Mikey, gearing up to attack. Leatherhead? Raph knew he shouldn't have let him go free! Raph rushes past the boxshell, ignoring Mikey calling his name, and charges into the larger yokai. Raph is surprised that this time it's much easier to overpower him than before. Leatherhead scrambles to regain his footing and it's Raph's turn to loom threateningly over the yokai, trying to appear tough to challenge the physically larger beast. But as Raph looks down at him, Leatherhead looks frightened.

Large pleading eyes stare back at Raph, and Raph sucks in a gasp as the emotion he feels from the gator is palpable. And surprisingly familiar. It's a feeling of being helpless. Othered. Hunted. Raph looks down. His hands are sweaty but look a lot more scaly all of a sudden. His nails are sharper. He is not wearing his gear or clothes; his spikey shell and plastron exposed. He tries to tug at his mask tails for comfort, but he isn’t even wearing his mask. He looks up to see that he's traded positions with Leatherhead. Except that Leatherhead is no longer there, and in his place is Captain Jupiter. Mikey is nowhere to be seen.

The Captain looks much taller and more imposing than normal, now towering over Raph and casting a dark shadow over the snapping turtle. The Captain smiles at him, but not in a friendly way. It's the kind of smile he directs at villains and monsters. One of triumph. Of overtaking his bounty. Raph shrinks back under the all too toothy smile. A whine escapes his throat as the Captain laughs heartily.

"I've got you cornered now, demon!" exclaims his mentor.

"Cap'n," Raph tries to say, but his mouth is dry and the word gets caught on its way up. He tries to clear his throat, but it comes out as an almost growl.

Captain Jupiter doesn't like that.

"You can't threaten me, evil beast! I will smite you like I have so many monsters before you!" The Captain points an accusatory finger at Raph.

The finger glows, and a red beam shoots out of the end of it hitting Raph square in the chest.

Raph's body stiffens from the strike and he falls to the floor, curled in on himself. His body twitches, but other than that he can't move. His breaths come quick and fast, but all too small against his tightening chest. He feels lightheaded. The Captain comes closer, cast in an even darker shadow, so much so that only his glaringly white smile shines through. Terror spreads through Raph's body. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is choked sobs as thick tears roll down his cheeks.

"I've got you now, monster." The Captain's voice deepens to something menacing and the word "monster" comes out distorted and inhuman. He extends a hand towards Raph, somehow appearing larger and larger as it stretches over him closer and closer. There to take him away. To lock him up. Like the monster he is. Only monsters have claws and teeth and spikes and sharp edges like him. Only monsters are large and menacing and scare folks at a glance. Only monsters hurt the people they love, leaving pink scars on their faces. Only monsters -

The hand that touches Raph's shoulder is soft and small. The tiny hand rubs his scales gently and the motion is paired with a gentle voice.

"Raph?" Mikey says. Quiet enough to not spook him; loud enough to be grounding.

Raph looks up at the small figure sitting beside him. Raph's eyes are blurry with tears, but even as he tries to wipe them away, he has to blink a few times to allow them to adjust because Mikey is glowing. Squinting a bit through the light he sees that it is Mikey's eyes. They're shining bright yellows and oranges. Like his fire. Like the morning sun. Breaking over the horizon. It's warm and comforting, and Raph tries to focus on that. He closes his eyes, still seeing the brightness through his eyelids, and takes some deep breaths. He swallows the lump that had formed in his throat and rubs his head a bit to clear it. After a few more breaths he opens his eyes back up. Mikey's eyes are no longer mimicking the sun, but a warmth still radiates from him.

"Raph. You're okay," Mikey says. It's a statement. Not a question. Because he knows. Raph nods and sits up, but Mikey's hand never once leaves him. Once in a sitting position Mikey rubs his shoulder and arm again. "You were having a bad dream."

Raph rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat and says, "Yeah, and you were in it."

Mikey gives Raph a sad, but meaningful smile. "I still am."

Raph pauses in rubbing his neck. Mikey does not pause in patting his arm. He blinks and looks around. They are in the sky. The fluffy clouds are tinged with an orange and peach sunrise. It feels like they're on solid ground, but whatever ground they're on is reflecting perfectly the morning sky around them.

Raph blinks again and looks at Mikey. "So none of this is real? You're not real?"

Mikey's freckled cheeks scrunch up and he giggles. "I'm still real, dude. I think you were dreamwalking again."

It takes a moment for that statement to sink in. "Dreamwalking?" He sure is doing a lot of blinking. "Again?!"

Mikey tilts his head to the side and quirks a brow up at Raph. "Yeah, you do it all the time!" He huffs out an amused laugh. "Do you not know that you're doing that?"

Raph shakes his head. But in the back of his mind a few flashes of faded memories return. Of Mikey's shell on a mirrored lake. Of Mikey in the forest. Of a figure in dark purple and another in bright blue. Oh man. How many peoples’ dreams had he accidentally wandered into?

"I'm - I'm sorry," Raph stutters out. "I'm not trying to pry, I just didn't notice before."

"Well, I guess if you're always fighting bad guys, you maybe never had time to practice your other magical abilities. Especially if you didn't even know you had them."

Raph looks at Mikey guiltily. Dreams can be really private. He didn't mean to mess with anyone's, least of all Mikey's. He's about to voice another apology, but Mikey squeezes his arm comfortingly.

"No need to apologize! I'm glad you're there for me in my dreams! You're always helping me out!"

The guilty feeling in Raph's gut lightens a bit. "Really?" He asks hopefully. Mikey nods. Then Raph realizes Mikey's word choice. "Wait, 'always?' How often have I...?"

"Pretty often, actually. For as long as I've had dreams, at least as I can remember. You always have those moon-eyes. It's why I recognized you in the fire!" Mikey smiles, and as he does the sun brightens around them.

"I- I'm sorry I didn't realize - I..." Raph stammers, still trying to take all this information in. Then yet another realization hits him. “Wait. Am I the Blood Moon Hunter?!”

"Well, yeah,” Mikey says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But I was never sure that you were real until I saw you then, to be honest." He shrugs and waves his free hand emphatically. "I'm just glad I was able to help you out this time."

Raph looks away and scratches his cheek absently, thinking of the nightmare form of the Captain. It's bad that Raph was thinking of his mentor like that at all, even subconsciously. "Oh, you saw that..?"

Mikey shakes his head. "I didn't see much. Just a shadow, and then you crying. And I felt that you were really scared..." He looks at Raph with deep concern, "Are you okay...?"

Raph gives a small, but genuine smile. "Yeah, I am now." Mikey smiles back. Then Raph nudges Mikey very slightly. "I mean, you'd know, right?"

Mikey laughs, and lights reflecting off the clouds sparkle in time to his giggles. "Yeah, I would."

He gives Raph's arm another squeeze. "I'm really glad I could meet you."

"Same here."

"I'll probably be visiting the North again in the spring for more deliveries, but in the meantime, feel free to wander into my dreams again."

"You sure about that?" Raph says with apprehension. "I don't even know if I could do it on purpose."

"Well, this way it'd be good practice. AND," he emphasizes eagerly, "we'd get to see each other more often!"

"Yeah..." Raph's smile widens. "That'd be great!" It really would be.

"Cool!" Mikey gives Raph's arm a final squeeze before letting go.

The sky is filled with a bright orange flash.

Raph wakes up to an orange ray from the morning's sunrise peeking through his bedroom window. He squints against the sun's rays and sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He looks around his room. Right. Mikey had left yesterday after the whole Leatherhead thing, and brunch with Red Fox. He looks out at the beautiful morning sky, tinged with oranges and golds and a hint of peach, and smiles. It seems like he's going to be able to see his friend again sooner than he thought.

The End.

<–previous   ///   back to the beginning–>

[incognitajones]

gift fic

for @fulcrumstardust​‘s champagne birthday! 

Cheers to you, friend! Here is your wedding meet-cute, as requested; my apologies that it’s a bit late, but better late than never...

———

As a rule, Jyn didn’t much enjoy weddings. She didn’t particularly care about marriage as an institution. And as far as parties went, they were usually boring and staid, at least until everyone got drunk on cheap wine and the reception turned into a seething mass of bad dancers and handsy drunks.

Not that she’d expected Baze and Chirrut’s wedding to be like that, but still. The general principle applied.

She was glad she’d come today, though. It was genuinely moving to see Baze and Chirrut stand up in front of their friends and family and join their lives officially (though they’d been loving partners for years). The venue, and the day itself, were beautiful: an understatedly elegant restaurant on the riverbank with a view across the water, and a crystal clear autumn day with sunlight sifting through the bronze-gilt leaves.

There were maybe more guests at the wedding banquet than Jyn had expected, but again—not a wedding person. And both Baze and Chirrut tended to draw people to them (Chirrut by force if necessary, as Baze always said). Jyn recognized a few people, mostly students from the martial arts studio, though she was content to nod at them from afar and keep grazing her way through the astoundingly delicious buffet. She’d given the grooms her best wishes and a little red envelope of money already, so as soon as she’d finished eating her own body weight, she’d be on her way.

Just as she was starting to think about leaving, Baze came up beside her, took her by the arm, and said, “Come meet Chirrut’s newest stray.” She’d just about reached her quotient of new people for the day but Baze was like a (much older, grumpier) brother. Jyn didn’t want to say no to him on today of all days. So she let him lead her through the crowd sipping wine and gorging on hors d'oeuvres to where Chirrut was standing beside the dessert table.

“I brought Jyn to say hello,” Baze announced. He slid an arm around his husband and rested his cheek on the top of Chirrut’s head.

Jyn was so occupied trying not to giggle at this uncharacteristically sentimental display that she didn’t notice the other person in the group until Chirrut started an introduction.

“Ah, thank you, husband! Jyn, this is Cassian Andor—“

“Oh.” The bitten-off syllable escaped Jyn before she could hold it in.

Cassian said in a similar tone of bewilderment, “It’s you.”

“You know each other already? Really?” Chirrut asked, with an irritating note of glee in his voice. “And here I was just thinking how well you’d get along.”

“Not exactly.” Cassian’s low voice was just as magnetically attractive as Jyn remembered it. And then she wanted to kick herself for remembering. “But we’ve met.”

Baze cleared his throat. “I see Mrs. Jiang over there, Chirrut, we should thank her for the gift.”

“Yes!” Chirrut agreed, grinning. “You two enjoy yourselves. Try the chocolatines, they’re excellent.”

Jyn glared at Baze, but he only shrugged and abandoned her. Traitor.

She directed her stare back at Cassian. Why should she run away, after all? She wasn’t embarrassed by running into the Tinder hookup from this spring who’d ghosted her and led her to delete the app out of spite (not because she was that disappointed, no matter what Shara said). And she was not remembering what was underneath those clothes, or the way he’d kissed the hollow beneath her ear with just a faint rasp of stubble… Absolutely not.

She grabbed a pastry and bit into it deliberately, refusing to look away.

“How do you know the grooms?” Cassian asked in a mechanically polite tone, with a death grip on the glass in his hand.

Jyn swallowed a mouthful of flaky puff pastry without tasting it. “Baze is my godfather.”

She snatched up a plate and loaded it with three more chocolatines—maybe enough sugar could make this bearable—before asking an equally inane question. “So you’re taking a class with Chirrut?”

“My physio recommended it to work on my balance,” Cassian said. There was a moment’s awkward hesitation as he waited to see if she would speak, but Jyn had just taken another enormous bite of pastry so he plunged ahead.

“I was in an accident in May,” he said. “Hit by a car. My phone got smashed and I was in the hospital and by the time I managed to get a new one, um…”

“Oh.” Jyn’s eyes widened as she did the math in her head. It had probably happened right after that night. “Oh, shit.”

“I was going to call you. Honestly. I really wanted to see you again. But when I was able to log in again your account had disappeared.” He raised his glass and drained a long, desperate swallow of his drink as though to keep himself from talking.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry. Are you doing okay?” Even to her own ears, Jyn’s attempt at sympathy sounded stilted and clumsy.

He nodded. “Getting better, yeah. The pin in my leg is a pain but hey, at least I can walk.”

He was maybe a little skinnier than a few months ago, but otherwise she couldn't see anything that looked like a healing injury or scar. She shoved back the momentary impulse to check him over, head to foot, very thoroughly, to explore his body with her hands and soothe anywhere that might still be in pain.

Jyn set down her empty plate on the table and shifted from foot to foot. “I wanted to see you again too,” she admitted softly, her chin tilted down.

More people arrived to plunder the dessert table and the two of them were displaced around the corner. In the process, Jyn wound up much closer to Cassian than before. She stayed still, waiting to see if he’d shift away again, but he didn’t.

They shuffled a little farther from the dessert table as yet another group of guests congregated around it. Now they were so close to one of the doors to the terrace that when someone slid it open to come inside, the draft blew a strand of Jyn’s hair over her eyes. She lifted a hand to push it back and watched Cassian track the movement of her fingers.

“I need some air,” she said abruptly. She tipped her head toward the terrace overlooking the water, looking up at him with a question.

Cassian set his glass down and opened the door. The breeze off the river flowed past them, crisp and pure. It had been a gorgeous fall day, but as the sun began to set the temperature would also drop quickly. Jyn was glad she’d worn a long-sleeved dress and tights, but was starting to think a jacket would’ve been a good idea too.

She walked toward the railing overlooking the drop to the river and propped her elbows on it. Strands of her hair were falling out of its knot and the wind teased them across the nape of her neck like a stroking hand. She remembered Cassian’s fingers cupping her there, holding her as he moved inside her, and a long shiver drew up her spine.

“Are you cold?” Cassian shrugged out of his suit jacket.

Jyn opened her mouth to refuse, but he said, “Please?” and the memory jolt of hearing him say the same word on a low groan short-circuited her.

She nodded, mumbling, “Thanks.”

He placed it carefully over her shoulders without touching her, but the sensation of being surrounded by warmth that smelled like him still fogged her mind. She wrapped her arms around herself inside the satin lining to hold in the heat and to keep herself from reaching for him.

“We could go back inside,” he suggested, but Jyn was reluctant to give up the lingering golden light. And the company of Cassian.

She shook her head. “It’s nicer out here,” she said inadequately, hoping that she sounded like she wanted him to stick around.

He leaned on the railing next to her, mimicking the casual drape of her body. “Anyway, I’m sorry that our wires got crossed.”

“Don’t apologize!” Jyn ordered, feeling like a heel. “I’m sorry. I take back all the nasty thoughts I had about you.”

“All of them?” he said, turning his head to look down at her. “I don’t blame you for being angry, given what it looked like.”

“Maybe not every single one.” She licked her lips.

The honeyed light of the setting sun caught in his dark brown hair, and Jyn found herself trapped staring at the way it fell across his face and brought out the amber in his eyes. His mouth had lines around it that looked like they could be from pain, but when he smiled at her they deepened into something like real happiness.

She lifted up on her toes, just a little, and pressed her lips to his: a soft, light kiss as gentle as she could be despite how badly she wanted to consume him. His hands went to her arms and held her up, sustaining the contact as they opened to each other and the kiss sank deeper, hungrier. She leaned into Cassian and he let her weight press him tight between her body and the railing at his back. At the smoky burn of alcohol on his tongue she made a shameless noise, pushing closer still.

He jerked in her grip and she pulled back, terrified that she’d hurt him. “Cassian?”

“Jyn,” he murmured in response. His hands lifted to cradle her face and he kissed her again, lips dragging along her cheek until her skin kindled at his touch. She wasn’t cold anymore, she was a blazing fire.

She whispered, “It’s probably rude to start making out at someone’s wedding.”

“Probably.” His voice was roughly gravelled, and his breath on her cheek made her shiver again. “Should we stop?”

She pulled his mouth back to hers and kissed him once more, twice more—and forced herself to stop at three before she lost her head completely.

“Come on,” she said breathlessly, rocking back on her heels and taking his hand. “Come with me. I’m going to give you your jacket back. And then you can give me all the rest of your clothes.”

[thethousandyearwitch]

Eye for an Eye

A "Medical Experimentation"/Black Market Surgery KakuHida fic, because it came to me in a dream.

"Hidan wakes up after a wild night, only to find himself in an uncomfortable and yet enticing predicament featuring a good looking stranger and the miracle of Jashin. And maybe both parties can get something out of this situation..."

Rating: Explicit due to some gruesome talk

Ship: KakuHida

Words: 1702

AO3 Link

Nauseating Darkness. That was the first thing Hidan perceived when he woke up. The feeling of a room, that you’re not even seeing, spinning.

He should have known that this would happen, after the hot bartender kept pouring drinks on the house before he could even finish them. It wasn’t his intention to get drunk off his ass, but free alcohol and shallow compliments from some goth chick can change a night quite quickly.

Reflexively, the man tried to turn to his side to soothe his nausea, only to feel a firm resistance on his wrists. The restrictive movement called his attention toward how cold he felt overall, and how fucking uncomfortable whatever he was laying on was. At the same time, he could hear some movement close to him come to a halt.

“Hey, hey, I’m not in the mood for some BDSM games, I think I’m gonna hurl.” He slurred and tested the restrains again. A gurgle crept up from his abdomen, and the suffocating darkness still wasn’t giving way to any light.

“What the fuck.” A deep voice echoed, definitely not from the cute bartender that Hidan had hoped he took home with him. It wasn’t a question, more of a baffled statement. The young man wasn’t a stranger to taking men home with him, but this was definitely not planned, and the unclear discomfort from his abdomen that stretched all the way to his sternum was enough of a boner-killer that he just wanted to get a shower and a prairie oyster.

“Dude, just, uncuff me, get this fucking blindfold off, and I promise I’ll write you a 3page essay apology for the missed sex or whatever.”

“What- No, stop. Listen closely to me.” The deeper voice came steadily closer, and Hidan was sure he could feel the warmth of another body inching closer to his. “I am not about to fuck your sorry ass. You had some real bad luck, and drew the interest of one of my clients, who paid me to remove your eyes and a couple of organs.”

The spinning inside of his head only got worse, and Hidan let out a confused groan. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“There’s no blindfold, dumbass, your eyes are already sitting on my desk ready for pick-up. I don’t even know how or why you are alive; you’re probably banged up on some drug cocktail that cancelled mine out. But you’re going to bleed out any second. No hard feelings.”

Oh. He’s been tricked. Of course, free drinks are never truly free, but he’s never paid with organs before. First time for everything.

The pressure on his body became clearer to him now. He could feel the burning edges of an incision, reaching roughly from 1cm below his bellybutton up to the tip of his sternum, between the 6th and 7thrib. The foreign body that squirmed itself under his ribcage, wrapped itself with learned precision around his heart, that could only be a human hand.

“Can you not afford a bone saw like any other unlicensed doctor?” Hidan laughed and could feel the pressure on his lungs. Every muscle in his body slowly started to follow his command again, warming back up with steady relaxation and contraction.

“I don’t need to justify my expenses to a dead man talking. I don’t care about leaving a neatly chopped up body, and neither does my guy who’ll get rid of you after the job.” Something cold and sharp pressed against Hidans Aorta, a scalpel, he was sure. “Any last words?”

The pain from the incision gave way to a booming headache, itching and scratching the inside of his skull. Slowly, white spots came into his visions, like a night sky that revealed itself one star at a time. “Yeah, what’s your name, asshole?”

“…Kakuzu. Goodby-“Before he could finish his parting words, Hidan snapped his arms free of the leather straps that held him down, and he threw himself at the other man’s throat, toppling both of them to the ground. His eyes had fully reconstructed themselves, and away from under the surgery lighting, he could slowly take in his surroundings in dimmer light.

“This place is a fucking shithole.” The floor was dirty, the walls and even the ceiling were covered in dark stains, an oakwood desk near the wall was held together with layers of yellow-ed glue, next to it a beat-up office chair with scotch-tape adorned seating. His eyes wandered to the man he kept pinned below him, covered in Hidans spilled out lower intestine. “You’re not too bad though, damn.”

His hands were wrapped around the throat of a well-build man, probably a couple years older than him, with rich, sepia brown skin, black hair tied in a knot. He wore a surgical mask, but it couldn’t fully cover the ends of what was clearly a not yet fully healed Glasgow-smile. But what was most striking about Kakuzu were his eyes; His sclera was a dull red, and his Iris were a bright emerald green. “Why would anyone want my eyes when you’ve got the grand prize resting in your skull?”

Under Hidans firm grip, he could feel the strength Kakuzu had to use just to speak up. “What the fuck are you?”

“I’m my gods most favorite little bastard! Now, how about a little trade, ‘kuzu?” He shifted his weight off of the other man’s windpipe, just enough to let him breathe under a strain.

“What do you want?”

“My guts, ideally back where they belong. And in return- “He grabbed Kakazu’s hand, which until now had been busy digging his fingernails into the immortal’s arm, and guided it to Hidans restored eyes. “-I’m sure your client would go bonkers over two sets of eyes.”

There was a pointed silence between the two, Hidan grinning as his internal organs tried to work against the pull of gravity, tissue already trying to reconnect itself with a painful burning sensation. For a moment he thought that the incision would close over his exposed organs before he’d get a response.

“Get on the table. I’m not going to waste anymore anaesthetics on you though, or else I won’t turn enough of a profit.”

Hidan climbed back on the operation table, arms rested behind his head, legs crossed leisurely. “Money greed is a sin, y’know?”

“That’s fine by me, I’ll buy myself a VIP seat when I get there.” Kakuzu readied a medical sewing kit, and unceremoniously crammed Hidans intestines back into his abdominal cave, to which he squirmed in response, but snickered as well.

“It’s not too late to repent! Jashin takes every poor soul that knocks on his door with the correct offerings, and I have a feeling you’ve got what it takes. And I’m living, breathing proof of his miracles. Or else how will you explain all of…this?” He waved his hand around in the general direction of his eyes and his open wound, and Kakuzu swatted his hand away.

“I don’t know, I don’t care. Maybe you’re the result of a radioactive freakshow. Maybe I’m finally succumbing to asbestos poisoning. Now hold still or I will have to tie you back down again.”

“Kinky! Say, after you’re done stealing my eyes again, wanna grab some drinks?”

“Drinks is how you got into this situation in the first place.”

“I’m not regretting it~”

This earned him an eye roll, though more importantly, he realized Kakuzu didn’t say ‘No’ to his proposition. The surgeon finished the final stitches and gave his work a satisfied nod. He placed a glass jar, filled with some strange liquid, on a smaller table next to the operation table, and leaned in closer to Hidans head. “Now for the money-makers.”

“Wait-wait-wait, how are you gonna take ‘em out? You’re not just gonna snatch them out with your fingers, right?” Hidan fidgeted, though his manic grin didn’t falter. His chest was rising and falling heavily with rapid breathing, pulling at the fresh stitches.

“You really are an idiot. The eyes are too delicate and firm to be taken out like that. I’ll be using a tool that looks like a spoon, but has the sharpness of a scalpel, to basically scoop them out. Getting scared?”

“Are you kidding? I’m really getting excited now…”

Kakuzu huffed and placed one hand on the right side of Hidans face, using his thumb to pull the skin under his eye down. “No squirming, or I’ll take your teeth as collateral.”

“Don’t entice me, ‘kuzu.”

The sharp, cold tool slid smoothly between eyelids and eyeball, and without much resistance it curved into the eye socket and severed the optical nerves. In just a second, Hidans vision on his right side went black, and his heart beat violently against his chest. The pain was overpowering, searing, and exciting.

The surgeon dropped the disconnected eyeball into the formaldehyde jar, and switched hands to get a better grip on the left side of Hidans face. “Halfway done. Need a break?”

“Stop being a fucking tease…” Hidan breathed out, face flushed with excitement, fingernails helplessly scratching at the side of the solid table.

And without any further warning, the tool slid behind the second eyeball, severed nerves, and discarded it into the jar.

Back to nauseating darkness. All of Hidans other senses felt enhanced, he could smell the preserving chemical mixed with his fresh blood, he could hear the buzzing of the lamp above him, he licked his lips and tasted only his sweat, and most of all, he could feel the lingering warmth of Kakuzus hand still on his face, his thumb brushing over Hidans cheekbone.

“You’re a walking organ bank.” The younger man didn’t reply, too busy with catching his breath. “I could save money on anaesthetics and trying to lure idiots to operate on. I’d have any organ anyone could want – on demand.”

“I’m not gonna let you cut me open every day for free, yknow?”

And suddenly Hidan could feel hot breath ghosting over his ear, so close that cold shivers ran down his spine.

“Maybe I do have some free time for a couple drinks, and a little business talk.”