#ze gentleman

[minnowtime]

Group photo!

Also they kicked Damien out for ungentleman behavior

[aragarna]

Guy Williams as Diego de la Vega and Julie Van Zandt as Magdalena Montes (Zorro, 1957, 1x17)

bonus: Sergeant Garcia dancing with doña Ines

[ratmonky]

if you ever feel insane just remember that i have a cap gun and i use it to play russian roulette for uh… foreplay reasons

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

THE moment 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

[solxamber]

Tides of Affection - Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

You've chosen Azul!

Falling for Azul is gradual, yet natural, just like the ebb and flow of currents.

Prologue ; 1k Masterlist

You hold your phone for a moment, mentally preparing yourself for the call. After a lot of back and forth in your mind, you’ve finally decided to accept Azul’s date invitation. As much as you tried to play it cool, the thought of an exclusive dinner at Mostro Lounge had been lingering in your head all week.

The phone rings once, and you hear a professional but familiar voice. "This is Azul—"

"I’ll go on the date with you."

A loud crash echoes from the other end, followed by a distinct, undignified yelp. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that’s bubbling up. There’s a beat of awkward silence, then a very obvious sound of someone—likely Azul—scrambling to recover his composure.

"I-I mean, excellent! Yes, that sounds... wonderful," he continues, trying to adopt his usual smooth tone but failing miserably. You can almost see him pushing his glasses up, his face pink as he adds, "I'll pick you up tonight. Dress... appropriately."

That night, Azul shows up at Ramshackle looking like he’s spent hours meticulously choosing the perfect outfit. He’s wearing his best suit, his glasses polished to perfection. When you answer the door, he offers you his arm, clearly attempting to channel his inner gentleman.

The two of you walk toward Mostro Lounge in comfortable silence, and when you arrive, you’re stunned. The restaurant is completely empty, save for a beautifully set table in the middle, lit by soft candlelight. It’s a perfect mix of intimate and extravagant.

"Azul... this is amazing," you say, genuinely impressed.

Azul’s face lights up at your praise. "I’m glad you approve. I wanted tonight to be... memorable."

Before you can reply, Floyd suddenly appears out of nowhere, and your eyes widen. He's wearing his usual Mostro Lounge uniform but with a huge, fake mustache taped to his face. He walks over to the table, arms outstretched, and starts speaking in the worst French accent you’ve ever heard.

“Bonsoooiiiir, mes amiiiis!” Floyd exclaims, throwing in some exaggerated hand gestures for good measure. “Tonight, I will be your serrrrveur extraordinaire! What shall I bring ze beautiful couple to eet?"

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing, while Azul’s face looks like it’s seconds away from bursting into flames. He’s frantically signaling something to the side, mouthing at Floyd to cut it out.

Floyd, of course, ignores this entirely and leans in close, waggling his fake mustache. “Perhaps ze... escargot? Or ze finest lobstah?”

Azul is about five seconds from collapsing into the floor when Jade appears, ever the picture of calm, and gently steers Floyd away. “Floyd, I believe your expertise is required in the kitchen.”

Floyd whines loudly. “Awww, c’mon! I wanna see Azul embarrass himself! It’s funny watching him mess up in front of his little date!”

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to entertain yourself,” Jade says, completely unfazed, as he firmly guides his twin back into the kitchen.

Azul looks like he’s dying inside. “I deeply apologize for that,” he mutters, mortified beyond belief.

You can't help but laugh. “Honestly? I think it was hilarious. Floyd's got... quite the talent for making things interesting.”

Azul lets out a long, exhausted sigh, shaking his head. “Interesting is one way to put it.”

He reaches for his glass of water, but his hand is visibly trembling, and when he takes a sip, some of it dribbles down the side of the glass. You can’t help but notice how tense he is, his shoulders drawn tight and his eyes darting nervously between you and the table. It’s honestly... kind of adorable.

Feeling bold, you reach across the table and take his hand gently in yours.

Azul freezes, eyes widening in shock.

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” you say softly, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I’m here because I like you, Azul. You don’t need to impress me—I’m already impressed.”

Azul’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and when he finally speaks, his voice cracks. “You... you like me?”

Your expression softens. “Yeah, Azul. I do.”

He blinks, the gears in his head turning like he can’t quite process what you’re saying. Then, slowly, his body relaxes. His shoulders drop, his grip on your hand becomes less stiff, and though his face is still flushed, he gives you a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the tension in his voice fading. “That... means more to me than you know.”

From that point on, the conversation flows more easily. You find yourselves chatting about your day, and you regale Azul with the latest disaster involving Sebek, Ace, and Deuce.

“So Sebek gets into this huge argument with Ace over who can jump higher, right? But in the middle of it, Deuce trips over a bucket and knocks down this entire stack of potions—"

Azul’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh no...”

“Oh yeah,” you continue, grinning. “There were explosions everywhere. Sebek’s hair turned bright purple, Ace got covered in glitter, and Deuce? He’s been sneezing feathers for hours.”

Azul shakes his head, exasperated but clearly amused. “Your group is nothing if not... unpredictable.”

“You’re telling me. Poor Crewel had to ban us from the alchemy lab for the rest of the week.”

You both share a laugh, and by the time the food arrives—delivered by a very professional-looking Jade—the mood has lightened considerably. The food, as expected, is incredible, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the rest of the evening.

When the meal is done, Azul insists on walking you back to Ramshackle. The night air is cool and crisp, and there’s a comfortable silence between you as the two of you stroll back through the grounds.

As you reach the doorstep, Azul hesitates, looking like he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words. Before he can overthink it, you take his hand, raise it to your lips, and press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Azul’s reaction is instantaneous. His entire body goes rigid, his face turning a deep shade of red. He stares at you like he’s short-circuiting, and for a moment, you genuinely wonder if you’ve broken him.

“G-Goodnight!” he squeaks, his voice a full octave higher than usual. Then, without warning, he practically flees from the scene, leaving you standing there, thoroughly amused.

You watch him disappear into the distance, shaking your head fondly. There’s no denying it—tonight was an absolute success.

It’s a typical PE day, which, for you, means sitting on the sidelines watching your classmates either struggle or excel at flying lessons. As someone with no magic, you’ve been mercifully excused from the torment of broom flying, so instead, you get to watch the chaos unfold.

Vargas is barking encouragement at the students, his voice booming across the field. "Come on, put your back into it! Fly like your life depends on it!"

You casually lean back, eyes scanning the group. Some are soaring confidently through the air like they've been born on a broomstick, while others—well, others are just... Azul.

You spot him hovering about an inch off the ground, his hands gripping the broom with the intensity of someone holding onto a cliff’s edge for dear life. His face is pale, and there's an unmistakable look of pure existential dread in his eyes.

"He's going to fall," you mutter under your breath.

Sure enough, his body wobbles, and he teeters dangerously to one side. Without thinking, you bolt across the field, reaching him just as his broom starts to tip. Your hands find their way to his waist, steadying him before disaster strikes.

Azul nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden contact. “W-what are you—"

“You were about to fall,” you say, shooting him a quick grin as you hold him in place.

Azul’s entire body trembles under your touch, and his usual calm façade cracks as he struggles to keep himself from spontaneously combusting. His grip on the broom tightens as he attempts to regain some sense of balance.

From behind you, Grim, who's been lounging nearby, rolls his eyes dramatically. “Seriously? He’s like a centimeter off the ground. He’s not gonna die if he falls.”

You shoot Grim a look but can’t help the snicker that escapes. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Floyd, who’s been casually observing the scene from a distance, bursts into laughter. “Oh man, Shrimpy’s out here saving Azul from the ground! Classic!”

Jade, ever the composed twin, nods in agreement, though there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Quite the heroic rescue, I must say.”

You stick your tongue out at them, ignoring their teasing as you turn your attention back to Azul. “You okay?”

He nods, though the pink flush creeping up his neck says otherwise. “I-I’m fine,” he stammers, clearly out of his element.

From Azul’s perspective, however, things are much more dire. He's not just being saved from an embarrassing fall—he's certain that he’s staring into the face of an angel. You haven’t taken your hands off his waist yet, and his mind is racing with the realization.

There are literal sparkles around you, he’s sure of it. His thoughts scatter in a million directions as he tries, and fails, to focus on anything other than the warmth of your hands still holding him steady.

Why are they still holding me like this? Do I smell like fish? No, wait, I don’t! Is this what people feel like before they combust?

Then, just as suddenly as you grabbed him, you pull your hands away, and Azul feels the loss immediately.

“Thanks,” he manages to choke out, though it comes out sounding more like a croak than anything remotely suave.

“You sure you're alright?” You eye him for a moment longer, clearly amused by his frazzled state.

Azul straightens his glasses, desperately trying to regain his composure. “Yes... perfectly fine. Though I believe I owe you for the timely intervention,” he says, his voice steadying with every word. “Perhaps another dinner, to... properly thank you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Azul, are you asking me out on another date?”

He clears his throat, suddenly very focused on a non-existent speck of dust on his broom. “I—I suppose that’s one way to phrase it, yes.”

You smile, clearly amused. “Alright, I accept. But only because I saved you from a one-centimeter fall.”

Azul blushes furiously at that, but he nods. “Of course. You’re a true hero.”

As you walk back to your spot on the sidelines, Floyd and Jade exchange a look, clearly holding back more laughter.

“Man, Azul’s gonna lose his mind if this keeps up,” Floyd says, grinning ear to ear.

“Indeed,” Jade replies smoothly. “It seems they’ve found the perfect way to keep him grounded.”

It’s a relatively normal day at Night Raven College—by normal, of course, it means you’re trying to prevent Ramshackle from falling apart at the seams for the fifteenth time that week. You’re in the kitchen, battling yet another suspiciously leaky faucet when your phone buzzes with a message. Azul.

Your heart flutters, but then a mild sense of concern settles in—Azul doesn’t usually text you unless it’s something important. Maybe another business proposal? An invitation to the Mostro Lounge to try his latest ‘limited time’ seafood special? But no, when you open the message, it’s short and strange: "Be ready by 5 PM. Dress warm. See you soon."

Uh… What?

Now, Azul isn’t exactly the type to do spontaneous things, so this throws you off completely. But, intrigued and with no pressing emergencies (for now), you throw on a warm jacket, scarf, and gloves, wondering what he has planned.

Is it another attempt to woo you with his business acumen? A surprise study session? You’re equal parts curious and worried about what sort of ordeal this could lead to.

By 5 PM, you’re waiting outside, pacing in front of the creaky Ramshackle door when, sure enough, Azul arrives. He’s looking incredibly out of his element—wrapped up in an enormous winter coat, cheeks pink from the cold, a thick woolen scarf around his neck, and glasses fogging up slightly from his breath. Honestly, he looks like he’s just walked into a freezing wilderness.

"Azul, are we... going on an arctic expedition or something?" you tease, but you’re already grinning at how adorably overdressed he is for the mild chill.

Azul clears his throat, looking a bit embarrassed as he pushes his glasses up. “No, nothing of the sort. I merely wished to—ah—show you something. Follow me.”

Now you’re even more intrigued. "Okay, but if this turns into a surprise business venture, I reserve the right to mock you for the rest of time," you warn playfully, falling in step beside him as he leads you out of the Ramshackle courtyard and down the campus path.

As you walk, the usual hustle and bustle of the school fades into the background. It's quiet, and you notice that Azul keeps glancing at you like he’s checking to see if you’re still there, as though he’s afraid you’ll vanish into thin air.

Eventually, you reach the outskirts of campus where a small forest lies ahead. Azul stops and turns toward you with an almost... nervous look.

"I wanted to take you somewhere that I rarely show others," he admits, avoiding your eyes as he fidgets with the edge of his scarf. "It’s... personal."

You tilt your head, heart already beating a little faster at the way he’s looking so serious and vulnerable. This isn’t the Azul that deals in contracts and meticulous plans. This is Azul without the safety net.

"Personal?" you ask, softening your tone. "Lead the way."

The two of you trek through the trees, and you can’t help but notice how ridiculously over-prepared Azul seems for this—he’s walking carefully, as if he's bracing for quicksand, making sure not to slip on any imaginary hazards. It’s both sweet and hilarious at the same time.

Finally, after what feels like a mini hike, you break through a clearing, and your breath catches in your throat.

You’re standing at the edge of a frozen lake, its surface glimmering under the evening sky. Lanterns are strung along the trees surrounding the lake, casting a warm glow over the ice. There’s even a small blanket laid out with a thermos of what smells like hot cocoa, and a pair of ice skates placed neatly at the edge of the blanket.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Wait... are we—are we going ice skating?"

Azul, now looking a little sheepish, nods, refusing to meet your gaze. "I... thought it might be enjoyable," he says, his voice quieter than usual. "I know it’s not something I’d typically do, but I—well, I wanted to do something special for you."

Your heart practically melts on the spot. Azul is definitely not the ‘outdoorsy’ type, let alone someone who’d voluntarily ice skate. Yet, here he is, dragging himself far out of his comfort zone just to plan something this sweet.

He nervously adds, "I’ll admit, I’m not... terribly skilled at this activity. But I’ve—uh—practiced."

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculously cute and nervous he sounds, though the image of Azul trying to practice ice skating in secret is now firmly lodged in your brain. "You did all of this for me?" you ask, warmth spreading through your chest.

Azul nods, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "I... wanted to show my appreciation. You’ve done a lot for me, and I thought... maybe this would be a pleasant way to repay you."

Your grin is unstoppable at this point. You don’t even care that it’s freezing or that you’ve never been the best skater. The fact that Azul has gone to this much trouble for you? You’re already swooning.

"Azul, this is..." You don’t know how to express how touched you are, so instead, you grab the skates and immediately start putting them on. "Come on, let’s skate!"

Azul seems startled by your enthusiasm but follows suit, albeit much more carefully. You can already tell he’s bracing for disaster as he edges toward the ice like he’s about to step onto a minefield.

The second he sets foot on the ice, you see why he’s so nervous. His legs immediately start wobbling like a newborn giraffe, and you barely suppress a giggle as he clutches at your arm for dear life.

"I-I told you I wasn’t very good at this," he mumbles, his face turning a bright shade of pink.

"It’s okay, I’ve got you," you reassure him, though the effort it takes not to laugh is almost painful. "Just hold onto me."

Together, you manage a few laps around the lake, though Azul’s feet continue to betray him, slipping and sliding more often than not. Every time he stumbles, you’re right there to steady him, which only seems to make him more flustered.

But the more you skate together, the more comfortable he becomes. And at some point, when he’s finally not wobbling like a newborn calf, you realize just how thoughtful and genuine his effort is. He did this for you.

By the time you’re sitting together on the blanket, sipping the hot cocoa, you’re grinning like an idiot, completely smitten. Azul is still embarrassed, probably replaying every awkward moment on the ice in his head, but you’re too busy falling for him to care.

"I can’t believe you did all of this," you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Azul swallows, his ears turning red, but he smiles shyly. "I’m glad you enjoyed it."

You glance up at him, and in that moment, you know you’ve completely fallen. Because here is Azul—stoic, business-minded Azul—going out of his way to make you smile, even if it means doing something as foreign to him as ice skating.

"I did," you say softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "More than you know."

The pipe in Ramshackle bursts with a violent hiss, and before you know it, water is everywhere—gushing from the ceiling, flooding the floor, and turning your already dilapidated home into a mini waterpark.

You’re ankle-deep in the chaos, trying desperately to block the spray with your hands like that’s going to do anything. Grim is perched on your shoulder, equally panicking but trying to maintain his usual bravado.

"Hey! Do somethin' before we drown, hench-human!" Grim barks, his little paws flailing as he attempts to swipe at the water like it’s something he can defeat with a few swats.

"I'm trying!" you shout back, grabbing a bucket and using it to… well, collect more water? Honestly, you’re not even sure what you’re doing at this point. The pipe is making noises like it’s laughing at your efforts, and you feel a wave of frustration welling up in your chest.

Just then, your phone rings, startling both you and Grim.

"Not now, Grim!" you yell, struggling to balance him while your other hand is busy with an already overflowing bucket.

"Uh, it's not me, hench-human!" Grim snaps, poking the phone with his tail until you fumble it into your hand.

You glance at the screen, only to see Azul calling you. Oh no, this is not how you imagined the day would go.

"Azul?" you answer, already sounding defeated. You don’t even get the chance to properly greet him before he’s asking, all smooth and casual, “Are you free for dinner tonight?”

And that’s when you lose it.

"Azul!" you practically sob into the phone. “Ramshackle is flooded! The kitchen’s drowning, Grim’s trying to help but he has paws, and I’m pretty sure I'm going to skewer Crowley when I see him next!”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end as you try not to full-on cry about the soggy state of your life.

Azul’s voice, calm as ever, replies, “Stay right there. I’ll take care of it.”

You barely have time to process his words when, not even 15 minutes later, there’s a knock at your door. You slosh through the water to answer it, only to find a team of professional-looking people standing there with equipment in hand.

"We’re here to fix your plumbing," one of them says, as if this is a perfectly normal emergency call on a late evening.

"What the—?" You step back, utterly baffled as they walk in like a squad of elite disaster-rescue plumbers. They immediately get to work, assessing the damage and patching up the burst pipe like it’s nothing more than a leaky faucet.

You stand there, shell-shocked, as they not only fix the pipe but also take a moment to reinforce some of the more concerning areas of Ramshackle.

Azul appears behind them, watching everything with a critical eye. He’s dressed as impeccably as ever, looking completely unbothered by the soggy mess you’re in the middle of.

“You…” you blink at him, at a loss for words. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Azul gives a small, graceful wave of his hand, like it’s no big deal. “It was the least I could do. I couldn’t very well let you stay in a house that was falling apart, could I?”

Overwhelmed by the gesture, you do the first thing that comes to mind. You hug him. You throw your arms around him and squeeze, feeling genuinely touched by how thoughtful he’s been.

Azul freezes, completely stiff in your embrace, his hands hovering awkwardly as though he’s forgotten how to function as a human being. But after a beat, he tentatively wraps his arms around you, his grip a little unsure, but warm nonetheless.

When you pull back, his cheeks are tinged pink, and he’s not quite meeting your eyes. “I-I hope the repairs were to your satisfaction.”

"They were more than that," you say, giving him a bright smile. “Thank you.”

With the pipe situation under control and Ramshackle’s kitchen looking more presentable than it’s ever been, you realize it’s far too late for the romantic dinner at Mostro Lounge. But there’s a solution for that.

“How about we get some fast food and watch a movie instead?” you suggest, figuring a more casual date would be the perfect end to this bizarre evening.

Azul, still looking mildly flustered from the hug, agrees. “That… sounds lovely.”

You both settle down on the couch with a pile of fast food, picking a movie to watch together. Azul, despite his earlier composure, is tense beside you—staring at the screen but clearly not paying any attention to what’s happening in the movie.

You try not to laugh at how rigid he is, and after a while, you give up on subtlety entirely. Casually, you wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into your side as you lean back against the couch.

His entire body tenses, but he doesn’t resist, instead leaning into you. His head rests lightly against your shoulder, and though you can feel him fidget every few minutes, he gradually relaxes.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, the warmth of the moment making the movie’s plot irrelevant.

The next morning, you wake up, still curled up on the couch with Azul half-draped across you, his head resting comfortably against your chest. You blink groggily at the morning light filtering through the window, then glance down at him.

Azul stirs, waking up and blinking in confusion before realizing the compromising position he’s in. His face goes crimson almost instantly, and he sits up way too fast, nearly knocking himself off the couch.

“I-I—” he starts, trying to find the words while adjusting his glasses, but he’s clearly too flustered to form a coherent sentence.

You, on the other hand, just grin at him, completely at ease. “I’d love to do this again,” you say, voice soft but sincere.

Azul freezes again, staring at you for a moment before a bashful smile slowly creeps onto his face. “I… I would like that too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the two of you sit there, grinning at each other like lovestruck idiots, the events of the previous night already becoming a sweet memory you’ll both cherish.

It’s a sight to behold: Azul in his element, operating at full power, and you get to witness it firsthand. You’re sitting at one of the booths in the Mostro Lounge, ostensibly there to “visit” but really, you’re here to watch him work. And wow, does he work.

Azul is currently handling a group of students who are clearly way in over their heads, trying to negotiate terms for a favor.

The air is thick with desperation—and that’s just from the students. You watch, entranced, as he slips into full businessman mode, his smile sharp enough to cut through steel.

The poor students don’t stand a chance.

“So, gentlemen, if you sign this contract, I can guarantee that all of your, shall we say, academic concerns will be resolved by the end of the week.” Azul slides the contract across the table with a flourish. His voice is smooth, the kind that lures you in before you realize you’re already caught.

You’re impressed by how easily he manipulates the situation—he’s making them feel like they’re getting the best deal of their lives, but you know better. This is Azul. The house always wins.

One of the students glances at the contract and hesitates. “Uh, are you sure there aren’t any... you know... hidden clauses?”

Azul’s grin widens, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. “Hidden clauses? Why, I’m hurt you would even suggest such a thing.” He places a hand over his heart, like he’s truly wounded. “I run a perfectly legitimate business, I assure you. The terms are all there in black and white.”

You bite back a laugh, watching the students squirm under his gaze. It’s like watching a master at work, and you can't help but admire the way he plays this game so effortlessly. Even when they’re suspicious, he has them eating out of the palm of his hand within seconds.

Azul doesn’t just thrive in this environment—he owns it.

Suddenly, Floyd sidles up next to you, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “You’re drooling, you know.”

You roll your eyes. “Am not.”

“Are too~!” Floyd sing-songs, clearly enjoying your flustered expression. “But I get it. Watching Azul reel in his prey is like watching one of those nature documentaries—where the shark’s about to take down a baby seal. Brutal, but you can’t look away.”

You elbow him lightly. “You make it sound so predatory.”

Floyd just laughs. “Because it is. You’re watching Azul, right? Same thing.”

Across the room, Azul is wrapping up the deal. The students, clearly defeated, sign the contract with trembling hands. Azul’s smile never falters. “Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing how your grades improve.”

They leave, looking like they’ve just sold their souls. Which, knowing Azul, might actually be the case. As soon as they’re out of sight, Azul turns and catches your gaze, his expression instantly softening.

Gone is the sharp businessman—now, he’s just Azul again. He walks over to you, adjusting his glasses with that trademark confidence.

“Well, how did I do?” he asks, though you can tell from the way he’s standing that he already knows the answer.

“Terrifying, as usual,” you reply, giving him an amused grin. “I think you might have scared them into improving their grades out of sheer survival instinct.”

Azul chuckles, sitting down beside you. “I prefer to think of it as... motivation. It’s important to give people a little push every now and then.”

Floyd, still lingering nearby, snickers. “A push, he says. More like you shoved them off a cliff and waved goodbye.”

Azul shoots Floyd a warning glance. “And you’re supposed to be working, not lurking.”

Floyd shrugs. “I’m watching you work. That counts.”

Azul sighs but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he turns his attention back to you. “So? What do you think of my... business?”

“I think it’s impressive,” you admit, leaning forward slightly. “And also a little scary how easily you do this.”

Azul’s smile turns a bit sheepish, which is honestly adorable considering how confident he was just moments ago. “I just know how to handle people. It’s all about finding their... weak points and using them to negotiate.”

“Yeah, you’re a real charmer,” you tease. “But don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re a bit of a softie when it comes to me.”

Azul’s face flushes a light shade of pink, and he quickly adjusts his glasses again, clearly flustered. “Well, that’s... different. You’re—special.”

Floyd, ever the instigator, snorts. “Special, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Floyd, out,” Azul mutters through gritted teeth, but you can’t help but laugh. The banter, the contrast between business-mode Azul and flustered, bashful Azul—it’s all incredibly endearing.

You lean back, still watching him, completely entranced by the way he balances his ruthless efficiency with these softer moments. He’s a force to be reckoned with, both in business and... well, with you. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re helping Sam with a delivery of books, stacking them in your arms and heading down the hallway like some kind of overly burdened delivery person.

It’s just your luck that today of all days, the stack of books you’re carrying makes it impossible to see ahead of you. But you’re used to this. After all, navigating life at this chaotic academy means half of it is spent balancing things you probably shouldn’t be holding while dodging all sorts of absurd situations.

You’re about to drop off the books at an empty classroom, or so you think. You shove open the door, barely catching a glimpse of something—or someone—just before you crash right into them.

There’s a moment of complete, cartoonish chaos as you both lose balance. The next thing you know, you’re flat on your back, books scattered everywhere, and the weight of someone is suddenly pinning you to the floor.

“Wh—” You’re about to shout something half-baked like "What the heck?" when you hear a choked gasp from above you.

You look up—and to your horror, you see Azul standing just outside the classroom door. His face is twisted into an expression so heartbroken, so dramatically devastated, that it looks like he’s witnessing the betrayal of the century.

Oh no.

You quickly realize how this must look: a mysterious person on top of you, you flat on the floor, books scattered everywhere. If this were one of those tragic romance novels Azul undoubtedly reads in secret, this would be the scene right before the misunderstood breakup.

Azul’s face is pale, his eyes wide behind his glasses, and you swear you can see the exact moment his heart shatters into tiny, irreparable pieces.

He opens his mouth, probably to say something cutting or deeply tragic, but instead, all that comes out is a strangled sound, and he abruptly turns on his heel, bolting down the hallway at a speed you didn’t even know he was capable of.

"Azul! Wait!" You panic, shoving the poor soul on top of you off with a quick, distracted apology. You barely hear them stammer out a confused “s-sorry” before you’re sprinting down the hall, books and all common sense abandoned in favor of chasing after Azul.

How is he so fast?! You didn’t know his legs could move this quickly, considering how calculated and leisurely his movements usually are. You half expect him to trip on his own dignity, but no, he’s moving like he’s being chased by a kraken.

“Azul!” You yell again, heart pounding as you finally manage to catch up to him. You grab his wrist and yank him into the nearest room, which, as luck would have it, is the tiniest broom closet you’ve ever seen.

The door slams shut behind you, plunging both of you into a cramped, dust-smelling room. The only sounds are the awkward shuffling of brooms and the frantic thudding of your heart.

Azul is rigid, avoiding your gaze like the floor is the most interesting thing in existence. His face is still a mess of hurt and confusion, and you’re absolutely not about to let him spiral into a misunderstanding-fueled melodrama.

“Azul.” You don’t give him time to wallow in whatever tragic narrative he’s cooked up in his head. You’re done with misunderstandings.

You have enough stress dealing with Crowley, and everything else in this cursed place and you're pretty sure that your life expectancy has halved since you came here—you’re not about to waste your remaining time on needless drama.

Without another word, you close the distance between you and kiss him. Hard.

Azul freezes for a moment, completely caught off guard, but then, just as desperately, he kisses you back. It’s clumsy and a little messy in the cramped space, but there’s no mistaking the way his hands cling to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you finally pull back for air, both of you are breathless, and Azul looks like his entire world has been flipped upside down. “W-What was that?” he asks, voice shaky.

“That,” you say, still catching your breath, “was to stop you from jumping to conclusions.”

Azul blinks at you, clearly still processing everything, so you take the opportunity to explain what happened. “I was just delivering some books, I swear! I crashed into someone by accident, and they fell on top of me. That’s it. Nothing else. I was about to say sorry when you walked in.”

The tension in his shoulders visibly melts away, and his usual composed expression begins to return. Relief floods his features, and he even lets out a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle. “I… I see. I suppose I was being a bit… hasty in my assumptions.”

You raise an eyebrow. “A bit?”

“Alright, perhaps more than a bit,” he admits, looking slightly sheepish now. He pushes his glasses up his nose, his face still a bit flushed from the kiss. “I’m sorry for running away like that.”

You smile, feeling your heart lighten. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“I won’t,” Azul promises, and then, as if remembering something, he clears his throat awkwardly. “So… um… does this mean…?”

You grin at him, already knowing what he’s about to ask. “Azul, I want you to be mine.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like he might pass out from sheer emotional overload. But then, a shy smile tugs at his lips, and he nods. “Only if you’ll be mine, too.”

“Deal.” You lean in and kiss him again, softer this time, but no less passionate. He kisses you back eagerly, his arms wrapping around you in the tight, confined space of the broom closet.

Then, just as you’re fully immersed in the moment, the door creaks open.

You both freeze mid-kiss, turning your heads in unison to see Sam standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin on his face.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So this is where you disappeared to, huh?”

You and Azul are both bright red, scrambling to separate yourselves from each other, but Sam just waves a hand casually. “Don’t mind me. Carry on, lovebirds.” He winks, giving you a conspiratorial look before closing the door behind him.

You’re left standing there, dumbfounded and flustered, while Azul stares at the now-closed door like he’s questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

“Well… that happened,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck.

Azul lets out a soft groan, burying his face in his hands. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. “Hey, at least we’re in this together, right?”

He peeks at you from between his fingers, and after a moment, he smiles, leaning into your embrace. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

The rumors have spread like wildfire. You and Azul—caught making out in a broom closet. Seriously? Of all the places! And you're pretty sure it's that guy who crashed into you earlier, seeking some petty revenge for toppling over you like a stack of books.

The first person to bring it up? Ace, of course.

“So, broom closet, huh? I always knew you were bold, but that’s next level!” he grins, nudging Deuce, who’s already fighting back laughter. Deuce tries to stay composed but fails miserably, snickering. “Dude, a broom closet?”

Azul, standing beside you, looks like he’s two seconds away from melting into a puddle. His face is redder than Riddle on an off day. “I… I don’t… this is...—"

Before he can finish, Floyd suddenly appears, draping his arm over your shoulder. “Whaaat? You didn’t invite me to the show? How rude!” His grin is practically splitting his face. “Azul, you dog! In a closet, huh?”

Jade, always the calm instigator, steps in, his expression innocent but his tone wicked. “How bold of you, Azul. One might expect a more... sophisticated venue, but I suppose a broom closet has its own appeal.”

Azul’s hands are trembling by now, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. He looks like he’s weighing the pros and cons of teleporting to another dimension. Meanwhile, you’re basking in the chaos. If they think they can make you flinch, they’re sorely mistaken.

“Oh, come on, guys,” you say with a smirk, wrapping an arm around Azul’s shoulders. “I mean, look at him. Who wouldn’t want a piece of this? I’d like to see you do better.”

Azul squeaks at your boldness, his body going rigid beside you, but you just give him a reassuring squeeze. “They’re just jealous. Right, dear?”

Ace nearly chokes on his own laughter. “Jealous? Of a broom closet make-out sesh? Sure, we all dream of that kind of luxury.”

Floyd, still howling, points a finger at Azul, “I never thought I’d see the day where you’d make the headlines for this.”

Azul buries his face in his hands. “This is… I can’t… Floyd, please stop.”

Jade chimes in, “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you so… exposed, Azul.”

You shrug, completely unfazed. “What can I say? We’re just out here, living our best lives, making out in closets.” You give them all a casual salute. “Catch you later, losers!”

Grim, who's been sitting on your shoulder the whole time, pipes up, “I approve! Azul’s rich, and my henchhuman is happy, so I get premium tuna. Everybody wins!”

The teasing? Relentless. But you just wink at Azul and squeeze his hand before pulling him out of the mess. “C’mon, let’s leave these losers behind. They can’t handle us.”

As you walk away, hand in hand, Azul finally finds his voice, though it’s barely above a whisper. “I... I didn’t know you could turn something so mortifying into... whatever that was.”

You grin. “Stick with me, Azul. We’ll be the power couple everyone wishes they were.”

Azul, though still red-faced, can’t help but chuckle under his breath, squeezing your hand just a little tighter as the two of you stroll away, leaving the chaos—and the teasing—far behind.

1k Masterlist ; Main Masterlist

I had to edit this in a hurry because I was convinced Jamil was gonna win till Azul swept in the last few hours

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ AS YOU WISH ꒱ DILUC RAGNVINDR X READER

warnings ⟢ minors do not interact—i will block you! bondage. slight dubcon (but not really...trust). cunnilingus. reader has a vagina, wears panties, is shorter than diluc, and is referred to as “dearest” once.

word count ⟢ 952

notes ⟢ this fic is part of @ficsforgaza’s kinktober event! my prompt was diluc + bondage. i want to give a HUGE thank you to my beloved zebra (@tartagliove) for the beautiful redraw of darknight hero diluc in the banner. ze—i’m in awe of your talent, and i feel honored to have your artwork at the top of my fic!

The sounds of gore cease suddenly.

You hold your breath and listen, straining to hear signs of who won the battle. Tendrils of smoke drift into the air and the ripe stench of death coats your tongue; gooseflesh skitters across your limbs. When the blindfold is ripped from your head, you let out a shriek, chest heaving as you regain composure. A mere pace from you is a masked figure who is renowned in Mondstadt, more legend than man: the Darknight Hero.

His entire body is obscured by an inky cloak, a birdlike mask covering all but the lower half of his face. A shock of crimson hair is gathered high into a ponytail at his crown, his tresses a cascade of flames that lick down his neck and back. His irises are the same color: the glowing embers of a dying fire, sparking hot then fizzling out.

Before you can so much as thank him, he gestures to your arms. They are bound with rope that looks like it was dipped in the cosmos—indigo charmeuse pinpricked with wandering stars—intricately woven with Abyssal magic to suspend your wrists above your head.

“It’s going to be a while until that magic wears off.”

His voice is rich and flinty; it reminds you of charcoal. When his gaze flickers to your flimsy nightwear, you squirm against your restraints, acutely aware of your vulnerability.

“What would an Abyss Herald want to do with you, I wonder?” The hero slowly circles you, appraising, an umbertail falcon stalking his prey. “You have no vision. And you certainly aren’t prepared to fight.” A gloved fingertip, sooty with ash and ichor, grazes the hem of your shorts—much too close to your inner thigh.

“Is this an interrogation?” you snap. “Because I’d also love to know why I’m here.”

An amused smile tugs at the man’s lips. He’s so near that you can see the puckered flesh of a scar that cuts across his cheek; he grasps your chin with surprising gentleness. While his words are terse, they drip with honey. “You’re a mouthy one, hm? So tell me, then,” he pulls your shorts down and they fall to your ankles, a digit moving to stroke the waistband of your panties, “were you touched here?”

“S-stop,” you stutter, swallowing thickly. “This hardly seems appropriate for the hero of Mondstadt.”

One strong hand steadies your waist while the other pets the pubic hair that curls out from beneath your lacy briefs. He chuckles and leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear in a whisper, “Are you claiming you don’t want this?”

From the moment you first spied the tall, broad figure of your savior, a simmering warmth ignited in your belly, kindling into a roaring fire. Lust seeps through the thin garment that barely preserves your modesty, clinging to your labia. Even in the dim, flickering light of the room, your need is apparent in your smoldering stare and spit-slick pout.

Swiftly, he withdraws. “I will not stoop so low as to force myself on—”

“Don’t play the proper gentleman all of a sudden. Touch me.”

Without another word, the Darknight Hero drops to his knees. His eyes are a dusky glass of dandelion wine, drinking you in as he mouths at your clit through sopping fabric, his tongue pressed flat, savoring your arousal. But he doesn’t tease you for long; he tears off your final layer and discards it like an afterthought, humming at the sight of your exposed cunt. The stubble on his cheek scrapes the plush of your thighs as he spreads your legs. You wobble with the movement, the rope burning your wrists as your arms stretch uncomfortably.

A sweet peck to your clit is your only warning before he slips between your folds. He starts with tender licks and caresses, occasionally dipping down to lave at your hole, then returning to where you need him most, sloppily sucking until your head grows fuzzy with pleasure. You try to focus on and decipher the patterns that his slippery muscle weaves. His mouth melds perfectly with your heat, and his deep, rumbling groans heighten your bliss.

But your shoulders ache, and you’re worried that your ankles are going to give out on you.

“Diluc,” you whimper.

In an instant, your husband stands up—chin dewy with your desire. He rips off a glove and singes the rope; your body floods with relief as your arms fall slack. He removes his mask to reveal his drawn expression: brow furrowed and jaw firmly set. “I pushed you too far,” he states, examining the bands of raw flesh that encircle your wrists.

You shake your head vehemently. “No—not at all. I agreed to this, you know.”

His visage softens with your reassurance, though his eyes still shine with concern. He presses a featherlight kiss to each of your injuries. “Shall we return home? I’d like to get some salve on your wounds as soon as possible. In fact, I may visit Sucrose for a fresh jar. Of course I won’t detail what happened or why we need the salve...”

Diluc’s anxious rambling trails off, and he soaks in your palpable irritation as you frown.

“What is it, dearest?”

“Well, I was hoping the Darknight Hero would finish what he started,” you huff, ignoring the heat that blooms in your face at the admission.

“Oh,” he smirks, stepping closer, “is that right?”

“Don’t make fun of me—I’ll make you regret it.”

“I would never dream of such a thing.”

“So…” You press your palms to his chest, rising to your toes. “You’ll take me up to Mr. Ragnvindr’s study, hero?”

His lips ghost yours, sticky, heady with you. “As you wish.”

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Bel and Tippy 🩵💙🥺🫶 I like being a gentleman to my dazzling diamond eyed prince! 💎✨

(Bel (left): he/him, xe/xem/xis, and they/them/their - Tippy (right): ze/zem/zeir, fae/faer, and he/him)

[riddle-me-ri]

Ok! Now for some Lupin drama! The Lupin gang have a friend that’s apart of the gang who they are undoubtedly in love with. During a getaway from the crime scene the crush takes a bullet for them in their back as they wrap their arms around them shielding them from harm how do they react?

a/n: yessss angstttt gimme gimme gimme no worries though the reader makes it but still I'll take what angst I can get lol. I hope you enjoy!

Lupin The Third and Gang React to Reader Taking a Bullet for Them

Lupin The Third

- Lupin tried to push you back out of the line of fire, but with your grip around his waist–he was too late.

- This is one of those extremely rare instances where the gentleman thief is absolutely speechless.

- Whatever plans Lupin had for after the heist have been changed–

- His priority now is to get you help and fast.

- For once he wished Pops was around, Zenigata had quicker access to help.

- Lupin calls out for aid from the others, and they immediately rush to help.

- No one would doubt how much he cared for you as he swiftly took off his signature jacket and used it to hold your bleeding wound.

- He WILL save you. You WILL be okay, no matter what it takes.

- Lupin has dealt with plenty of losses before…but he refuses to lose you.

Jigen Daisuke

- Jigen immediately catches your body before you can fall to the ground.

- He holds you tight as he quickly takes aim at the perpetrator that shot you.

- Once Jigen shoots him down, his full attention is on you.

- He does his best to put pressure on your wound while trying to carry you in his arms.

- As much as he doesn't like to hear your groans and hisses of pain–they're a relief for him to hear

- He tries to reassure you that everything is fine–you'll be okay…

- But he can't refrain from asking why you would do such a thing…

- Through the pain, you mutter how you'd do it again to save him.

- All Jigen can do is shake his head in disbelief as he tries to get you back to the getaway car.

Goemon Ishikawa XIII

- Goemon is rattled to his core.

- Waves of shame, guilt, and fear wash over him.

- Shame that he couldn't dodge the bullet in time, guilt that you're hurt, and fear for your condition.

- He instantly grips your body closer to his. This would be a sweet embrace if you weren't wounded.

- In a shaky voice, he calls your name and is relieved to hear your voice, albeit weakened and breathless.

- Goemon's first thought was to get you somewhere safe and fast while he stays back.

- He calls for the others, and they take you to get help.

- As much as Goemon wants to tag along, he wants nothing more to ensure your wellbeing…

- But no, he refused to return to your side until he had avenged you.

Fujiko Mine

- Nothing could stop the shriek that Fujiko made.

- She fell to her knees with you cradled in her arms.

- Words kept come pouring out of her in a hurried tone:

- “Why would you do that?”, “You're bleeding!”, “Can you stand? We need to find the others!”

- Fujiko was used to putting other people's lives on the line for her benefit.

- But she would never ever imagine you, someone she cared for deeply, would put their life on the line…

- Especially for the sake of saving her own.

- Fujiko wastes no time calling for help. She's worried about moving you, so she focuses on tending to your wound.

- Even through her tears, she tries to reassure you that you'll be okay, as she hears the others' footsteps running closer to you two.

Inspector Koichi Zenigata

- Zenigata is stunted.

- No one's ever risked their life for his. He'd never ask someone too…

- Especially not someone as near and dear to him as you.

- To see the only light in his life slowly fade after taking a bullet for him–

- Zenigata panics, but does what he can to keep it together.

- He wraps his suit jacket around you, tightening it around your body with the sleeves.

- His hand puts pressure as he somehow manages to carry you to his car.

- There will be time to find the suspect later, he recalls the voice…the face…

- Zenigata's priority is to get you safe and medical attention.

[aardvark-123]

~Fallout 4 Companions React to Being Cheated On~ (By you, the Commonwealth's infamous heartbreaker.)

Ada would be appalled when she walked in on you and KL-E-0 making love on the armour workbench. "I don't believe my eye. That technique you're using is simply appalling!" she'd declare, shoving you to one side. "Sorry about them, babes. But now that I'm here, why don't we take this opportunity to have a practical demonstration?" Ada would purr, drawing a metal finger along KL-E-0's chin. "I thought you'd never ask," KL-E-0 would smirk, wrapping her slender arms around Ada's steel-clad shoulders. "Show me what that custom body can do, handsome. The shop can wait for a few hours..."

Cait wouldn't seem particularly bothered. "You and the Mariner, then, is it? I'd never have seen that coming!" she'd laugh. "Why don't I go and get Arturo or that lady from Vault 81, and we can have a double date? No, don't get up, sure I can fetch them right now if you want!" Cait would wander off, and then, after a reasonable wait, start beating up the nearest mannequin with a sledgehammer. She may be polyamorous, but you still should have told her you were seeing the Mariner, and sadly Cait doesn't know how to express that feeling while maintaining her party-girl persona. She settles for being increasingly passive-aggressive (and then just plain aggressive) until you get the message.

"B-by George!" Codsworth would cry, dropping his tea tray. "Sir and/or Mum, what on Earth is happening? I don't- I don't- I don't understand..." Poor Codsworth would want to believe it was all just a misunderstanding, and that somehow you'd cheated on him completely by accident, but in his CPU he'd know it was no accident. In tears, he'd pack his bags and hover out of your life forever.

"I was thoroughly aware zat exclusive relationships are ze most popular variety," Curie would weep with anger. "But never could I 'ave imagined 'ow painful it would feel, seeing you, twisted around zat jumpsuit-wearing harlot Kasumi! Y-you made me human! You showed me 'ow it felt to be in love! Was it all just a game?! Did you merely think you were toying with ze pretend feelings of a poor, naive little robot?! Putain! Get out of my sight, or I SWEAR I shall kill you!"

Paladin Danse would seem, if anything, to underreact. "I see," he'd growl. "Not like I could ever hope compete with Paladin Brandis's rogueish bad-boy charms. Well, I hope you're happy together..." And that would be that. ...Or so it would seem until you tuned into the Brotherhood of Steel's radio channel. "People of the Commonwealth, do not fall in love with the individual calling themself the Sole Survivor! They are single-handedly responsible for a trail of broken hearts from here to Sanctuary Hills," Scribe Haylen would recite. "Paladin Danse would like me to add that, contrary to some of his previous remarks, the Sole Survivor is terrible at kissing. And now, the weather..."

"I know I can't really complain about you keeping secrets," Deacon would say, "but you've got to be upfront about these things! If it's... if we're just something casual, say so! Don't just leave me hanging until I find you shacked up with some other handsome devil, okay? ...Okay, then. When do I get a turn with Fahrenheit?"

Dogmeat would be deeply upset. "How could you?! And with my sister, of all people!" he'd bark. "I never treated you wrongly. I was always there when you needed me, I fetched your slippers and that tennis ball you kept throwing for some reason! I was the PERFECT GENTLEMAN! But no, apparently that isn't ENOUGH for you!" he'd howl with despair. Dogmeat would flee into the night, his tears mingling with the rain dripping down his snout, and you'd never see him again.

Porter Gage wouldn't exactly be thrilled, but you're the Overboss of Nuka World, so what can he do? (Tell you about a secret stash of Nuka Cola Quantum, but neglect to mention that it's currently stored in a super mutant behemoth's fridge, that's what.)

Glory would kick you in the groin. "That's what you GET for playing stupid games, you wanker!" Since Glory is wearing a brand-new pair of adjustable women's Chore™ boots by the Original Muck Boot Company™, made of flexible cloth on the lower leg and sturdy rubber on the foot, her kick would be devastating.

"Wow," Hancock would chuckle, seeing you curled up in bed with Bobbi No-Nose. "Just... wow. I was feeling kinda bad about seeing Moe Cronin and Trader Rylee behind your back, in addition to sleeping with Mel behind Bobbi's back, but not any more! ...What? Oh, I know Mel's gay, but we're still doing it behind your back, Miss Noseless Wonder."

Old Longfellow would drink himself into a daze and forget about you.

MacCready would drink himself into a daze, shoot you in the head, and help himself to your things.

Nick should've known better than to get mixed up with you. From the moment you slunk into his office, lips red with lies and Maybelline, eyes dark with broken dreams, he could tell you were trouble. There was something about you, though - maybe it was how you drew yourself up like a cat when the detective held your hand, or maybe it was how those hips of yours swayed like an anaconda. None of it matters now, though. Nick opened up his heart to you, sweet cheeks, and he sure as Hell ain't making that mistake again. (You were found snogging Mr Zwicky, as it happens, in the bus on top of the school.)

Piper would confront you loudly and vociferously in public. "What the Glowing Sea was that, Blue?! Just how long've you been seeing Ellie Perkins behind my back, huh? What's going on with the two of you? And does Ellie think I'm cute?!" The questions would come in faster than you could make excuses, but Piper would offer you an olive branch when her head was clearer. She'd still be your friend, as long as you'd learned your lesson and wouldn't toy with a starry-eyed reporter's heart again.

Preston would be heartbroken, to the point that he wouldn't even be able to look at you for a few days. Nevertheless, he'd swallow his feelings and try to stay on good terms with you, because the Minutemen need a talented builder/pest control specialist on their side. What's his happiness worth compared to the safety of the whole Commonwealth?

Strong would wander in while you're in bed with Marcus and not react at all. "Strong here to borrow torch," he'd say, taking a torch out of the drawers. "Don't break the handcuffs, all right, Marcus?" he'd add, wandering back out of the room.

"I don't believe your nerve, seeing Strong behind my back! What's WRONG with you?!" Marcus would be weeping with fury and occasionally throwing things at you while he packed his bags. "I thought we had something special, but no, I guess I'm just another warm, green body to be used and thrown away! You pig! I'm taking the kids and moving back to Jacobstown."

X6-88 wouldn't know what to feel to begin with. He isn't programmed to feel anything, really; the sex was just to give you some enrichment. X6-88 is a Courser, nothing more. But why does he tense up so, and where does that fire in his heart come from, when he sees you in bed with Doctor Li? Kissing you and caressing you, letting you try on her lab coat... There's nothing else for it. One of these days, the good doctor will have to suffer a sudden, fatal accident.

[alandemoss]

Matthew's Subtle Subversion

I have not, nor will I, watch the popular Christian series "The Chosen". The show, which draws from Mormon influences, was highly anticipated by several Baptists I know, and I find that rather odd. When I think of the title, I am immediately repelled by the concept of “the elect” as understood by Reformation, Calvinist, and Presbyterian traditions. Predestination, as they interpret it, is a grotesque, isolationist, and heretical reading of selective scripture. This doctrine renders much of creation meaningless, serving only to protect the fearful cultures it infects.

I am neurodivergent which has made me insatiably curious my entire life. Other traits of my condition include deep yet detached emotions, intense focus, thorough exploration of details, and a strong sense of justice. While these characteristics have served me well in work and hobbies, they have primarily led to isolation. Few people are interested in hanging out with someone who spends most of their time researching facts, history, and cultural patterns, writing poetry, or studying psychology. I rarely understand jokes, and flirting is utterly lost on me, despite my extensive research into these social skills.

However, after 46 years, I am finally ready to speak my truth and do whatever it takes to share my human experience. This begins with a hard truth about myself:

I hold deep contempt for the religious dogma I was raised in. It seeks to disallow my very existence, and I believe that such ideology should be eradicated along with all similar ignorance. Only recently did I come across a quote from a far-right "Christian" pundit calling for the elimination of autism as part of a sort of purification of humanity. My flat affect once led a deacon to suggest that I was possessed by demons and that I should learn my demon’s name for exorcism. This encounter occurred while I was volunteering at a nursing home, where the gentleman couldn’t see the "joy of the Lord" in me.

Autistic individuals like myself are often subjected to the harshness of righteous indignation, with little grace offered by dogmatic adherents. Pastor Rick Morrow of Beulah Church in Richland, MO, recently claimed that neurodivergent people are afflicted by the devil or perhaps simply not favored by God. According to Morrow: "Either the devil has attacked them, he's brought this infirmity upon them, he's got them where he wants them, and/or God just doesn't like them very much, and he made them that way… Well, my God doesn't make junk. God doesn't make mess-ups." Am I truly consumed by the demonic? This appears to be a clear case of projection—one that calls for serious investigation.

A pang of curiosity led me to search Google for any indication that Jesus’ disciples might have been autistic. My initial thoughts centered on Thomas, given his skepticism, his need for empirical evidence, and his relative obscurity among the Twelve. Peter also came to mind, given his staunch loyalty, even to the point of violence, and his strong sense of justice, qualities that Jesus regarded as foundational to the church.

Interestingly, "The Chosen" portrays Matthew as autistic. Having watched videos explaining the reasons behind this decision, I find myself in agreement. Matthew is portrayed as highly skilled with numbers, socially inept, clumsy, occasionally dim-witted, and consistently exhibiting a flat affect. He is also despised by many, as tax collectors were in that era. I believe Matthew likely harbored deep contempt for the religious hierarchy of his time, possibly using his position as a tax collector to exact a measure of justice for himself while undermining the religious authorities. Who could blame him, considering how poorly “weirdos” are treated within church walls? I would have, and indeed have, acted similarly on my own behalf and others.

There is a very real danger to the pursuit of happiness, freedom, and even the lives of neurodivergent individuals when zealots become convinced that God requires them to be healed—or worse, purged.

I have long felt a sense of distrust and distance from fundamentalist congregants. As far back as I can remember, I’ve always asked too many questions or, worse, involuntarily laughed at the absurdity of hierarchical leadership, antiquated ideas, and overly dramatic cultural condemnations. These, more often than not, are thinly disguised expressions of a preacher’s personal dislikes masquerading as divine mandates. I have tried to work quietly to subvert these toxic ideologies. A moderately concerned inquiry into the evolution of dogmatic theology reveals it to be nothing more than the wishful interpretations of lost souls. There is no grace, no love, and no good that comes from a spirit of zealotry. Zeal directed against one’s brothers and sisters breaks every commandment and the whole of love’s law.

I’m glad that Jesus saw Matthew. I have no doubt that I, too, would lay down my life to follow such grace. I pray that our friends lost to puritanical piety will once again rediscover His love.

[spidermilkshake]

SAWBONES

Oh goodie, look what fandom writing idiom has ensnared me now: Team Fortress 2.

Time to make up shit about ze Medic!

1: "Hiring Process"

Mid-October, 1962

San Francisco, the Mission District

7:00 p.m.

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

            The spy watched for several long moments even after confirming that the man in the alley was indeed the one the Administrator sought out, the one in his file. Statue-still except for the eyes and for breathing, he observed his target.

            In watching, he was more and more convinced the Administrator must be mistaken this time. This fellow was a nervous type, flitting back and forth from the parked van and the door to the basement room in the grimy neighborhood—all the while muttering in a mixture of German and English. He was on the older side of adulthood. Not nearly as old as the spy, but at least within a two-decade dart-toss of him. He was fidgety—he was somewhat put-together and what would be conventionally considered handsome for both his age and the times. He was a glasses-wearer, and a suspenders-one too. Out of current fad style, but doing better on that front than the spy…

            More troubling, the target was quite a bit bigger, more robust in build, younger and more vital than the spy, and there was no telling if the blackmarket doctor was armed, or how armed. The silent watcher must be careful not to let this encounter come to blows—even he wasn’t confident he would come out on top without the element of surprise.

            Though the spy did not quite believe this tall Teutonic gentleman was indeed the infamous “Butcher of Bavaria”, he did have to admit he had the frame of someone who routinely overpowered and chopped up Schutzstaffel officers and was also in the right age range for it. There was the added hope that, were he the legendary serial killer who had made it hard for Nazis to sleep at night from 1941 to current day, that it may make this doctor more amenable to being approached by the Frenchman over any of the American agents.

            “Ach, vhere ist..? Ahh, zhere you are.” The spy overhead the man’s voice muffle out from a trunk in the back of the van. His jaw dropped open as the target retrieved a slightly blood-stained Waffen-SS Schirmmütze from the trunk’s depths. Okay then. Maybe this was the Butcher of Bavaria. With a bright, almost wistful grin the doctor chuckled and popped the peaked hat onto the top of an anatomical skeleton model’s skull where it sat outside the open back of the vehicle. The spy stood still as ice but secretly was quite startled and impressed as the doctor dug around more and… pulled out another officer’s Schirmmütze… and then another… and then a final one, decorated with a rust-brown smear on the side and the accoutrement of a (late) SS captain instead of the usual Wehrmacht markings. Balancing the “war trophies” on his strong, skillful fingers, he giggled darkly to himself again and seemed to be considering where to set them for the time being while he carried on rearranging the van’s cargo. “So viele. Hmm, I need to invest in a hatbox of somezing… would hate to lose track of all you…”

            The Butcher’s back muscles suddenly tightened, posture sharpening and tensing, and the spy’s spine chilled in almost the same second. Mon dieu. The realization that a slight noise of his suit jacket’s silky fabric shifting had alerted the doctor to someone close by brought his focus up to a peak, holding his breath as he saw the man whip his head around and tuck the hats back away. The once jolly, soft-edged blue eyes had hardened until they glinted just like the glass lenses augmenting them—gaze scanning around not like a frightened prey animal but like a formidable beast enraged by a rival. A wolf sniffing out a threat.

            “Who is here?” The cheerful, flutey-high voice had roughened and darkened. The Butcher turned to have his back blocked by the van—eyes flicking around eager for a sign of an adversary, “Zeige dich!”

            It was now, or never. Any more delay would only lower his chances at recruiting this dangerous madman. The spy took a subtle step forward and allowed the Invisi-watch’s cloak to drop just as he entered the faint light creeping out from the open basement and the panel van’s dash.

            “Bonjour,” he said in his typical unimpressed tone. Years of practice assisted in keeping his composure despite entering the considerable lunging-range of the tense stranger with an impressive kill count. Flicking out a cigarette from his case, he lit it in a fluid motion and locked eyes with his target, “Doctor Fritz Ludwig, am I correct?”

            “Who is asking?” the Butcher growled. It was impossible to avoid noting that one of those skillful hands of his was creeping into an outer coat pocket. The spy shook his head, waving his free hand for patience.

            “Relax, mon amí. I am not here for any violence tonight. If you must know a name, then please call me Mercier.” The spy was unbothered throwing out his real surname—with all the records-scrubbing it mattered little now. “And you are the one I’ve heard so much about. The very famous ‘Butcher of Bavaria’. Je suis impressionné!”

            The praise did not seem to put the mad doctor at ease, and he instead screwed up his brows in suspicion and barked: “How do you know zhis?” The weapon he had been reaching for slowly emerged from the deep pocket and into his white-knuckled grip: An alarmingly large blade. A Wehrmacht Heer bayonet knife, if the spy had to guess. Probably another memento off a dead Nazi soldier; that was at least five now. “Who sent you?!”

            “If you’re concerned about police, or any sort of government intelligence finding this out, then I assure you that your full identity is strictly known to my employers. And they are in no way interested in legal nonsense,” Mercier took a slight pull from his cigarette, very aware of the weight of his revolver holstered under his suit jacket but making sure to not incline his free hand towards it just yet. “What they are interested in is your particular set of skills. Perhaps we could speak somewhere more privately on that,” he gestured towards the basement chamber, “and preferably without sticking knives into each other.”

            “Rrrgh… sheisse…” The Butcher relented a notch, but did not let up the tension in his squared shoulders or put away the blade. He glared over at the Frenchman and muttered in a fierce tone, “Fine—you first. And I keep zhe knife, you keep… whatever it is you have.”

            “Assez juste,” The spy nodded, “Mind if I smoke?”

            “Ja. Fine. Zhat’s fine,” the doctor was clearly irritated by the request, but found it a non-issue compared to everything else at hand. “Now go, schnell—before someone else vanders in here…”

            Mercier took the few nerve-wracking strides down the two small steps into the Butcher’s current lair, calm on the outside but preparing himself mentally to repel a sudden pounce from the serial killer following just a few meters behind him. He paused at the open receiving area, taking in the clean but rough concrete confines—the flimsy fold-out table and rusted mediocre shop shelves all packed with a wide variety of ominous-looking surgical tools and devices. In one corner, more brightly-lit with a hanging contraption of fluorescent tubes, was what looked like a salvaged dentistry chair. Tellingly, the armrests had a series of grooves worn into them, right where the wrists of a patient would be placed. Or… probably not a “patient” so much as one of the good doctor’s favorite types of unwilling organ donor.

            The door latched shut behind Mercier.

            Ah. Terrific. This certainly wasn’t the start of the last ten horror films he had seen. Against the genre, Dr. Ludwig stepped around the spy with a wary buffer zone and settled into one of the available folding chairs by the one semi-clear space at the table. He gestured with the point of the bayonet to the other seat. Mercier took it, crossing his legs casually and sucking down another lungful of cancer-stick to keep his wits about him. The Butcher remained slightly hunched, as if watching for a reason to need to spring back upright, and with one dexterous hand continually fondling the grooves of the bayonet’s hilt. Nervous. Not hiding it at all unlike the spy.

            “Mercí,” Mercier began, trying not to glance at the small cooler set close by on the table or at its “Biohazard” label, “I will not waste too much of your valuable time, doctor. Have you ever considered work in the mercenary field?”

            “Wha…” Behind the gleam of his spectacles, the doctor’s eyes widened, “Mercenary vork?”

            “It is very worth considering. The kind of combat medic able to perform the transplant of several vital organs on a man within half an hour and send him out in peak form the next day—and also not be too squeamish of supplying the organ donors directly from the opposition on the battlefield—is in quite short supply.” He puffed on the cigarette once more, “Actually, I believe that supply is one. You are exactly the man we need on our team.”

            “Mm.” Dr. Ludwig’s gaze flicked around before settling on the spy’s glowing cig once more, “Maybe… you could convince me. Ja. Vhy should I want to join zis team?”

            “You’re a man of science, non?” The spy cocked an eyebrow as his gaze rested next on an autoclave, sat popped open with a selection of fluid-stained clamps, scissors, and vials waiting inside. “You no doubt have some significant research to fund. Equipment, electricity… subjects do not come cheap.”

            “Vell…” Ludwig frowned with narrowed eyes, and Mercier was keen to see that the bayonet was now resting on the table (though with the deadly doctor’s palm still set on its handle), “Zhat is mostly true… hmm… Go on.”

            “Should you accept our offer, then you would receive a significant research budget from T.F. Industries,” the spy cracked a dry fraction of a smirk, “You may recognize the name as among the highest-grossing multi-sector defense contractors on this continent. You could accomplish a lot more with us than… well, here.”

            “Hmmm…” The Butcher of Bavaria was looking far less threatening now, a contemplative flash in his half-hooded eyes. His hand which was not readied by the knife snaked up and adjusted his glasses a bit higher on his nose. “Yes… I could believe zhat.” He aimed a sharp look at Mercier, right in the eyes for once, but with more intrigued energy than predatory. “I must know more though… Vhat about restrictions?”

            “As far as the team’s Administrator is concerned, ‘restrictions’ align only with the bounds of physical impossibility,” he shrugged, “And she is not so partial to those, either. She is the sort of boss who would give… bonuses for toiling in God’s domain, vous savez?”

            The doctor blinked, inhaled over a long pause with an expression morphing into one of mixed alarm and hope, “Ah… I see.

            “And zis team you speak of?” Ludwig’s composure settled, gaze returning to an area slightly left of Mercier’s face. “What exactly is zhe goal of it all?”

            “Our employers have some opposition. Dangerous opposition of course. The usual mess in these company mix-ups: Stealing trade secrets, attempts to blackmail each other, industrial sabotage… et cetera, ad nauseum. And the team itself is, erm…” the spy flipped which side of his mouth held his cigarette, “…currently reduced in number due to an unfortunate mishap. We only have a skeleton crew at headquarters. In order to recover and defend our resources, we need a medical professional.

            “Especially one skilled at piecing dying men back together. And can do that with parts of other, enemy dying men.” The spy blinked, noting his cigarette had reduced to a smoldering nub, “Does this sound like something worth signing onto, in exchange for essentially unlimited funding and laboratory space for whatever medical experiments you desire?”

            “…Vell… Vell…” The man suddenly looked quizzical, “Vhere is all of zhis fighting, and funding, and free laboratory supposed to be happening?”

            “New Mexico.” He shrugged, “Not the most glamorous location, I know, but remote enough for our purposes. It is as Americans would say, ‘the Wild West’ out there.”

            “Zhat’s… aheh, zhat’s very far away, ja?” A sliver of the non-threatening, nervous nature the spy had first seen this man exuding returned.

            “We can arrange for whatever transportation you require. For you, and any possessions you wish to take with you. I assume there may be quite a bit.”

            Before the mad doctor could formulate any confirmation, or any further digging into details, from behind where they both sat and beneath a sanitary sheet came a series of harsh flutters and soft burbling noises. Almost like… purring? But frantic, smaller, throatier.

            Cooing.

            “Ach—aheh, ein moment, bitte—” the doctor stood, abandoning the knife for a spell. With delicate but anxious speed the man lifted the sheet partway to peer inside the top of a very large open cardboard box, the sort that a television set or some other shiny technical appliance might come in. Mercier stared, dumbfounded, at the most efficient killer of Nazi officers outside of the French Resistance and the Red Army grousing at the dimly moving contents of the box in mostly his native German—tone so low the Frenchman only caught and fully understood portions of it:

            “Okay, wer von euch Kämpft? Du schon wieder—nein! Nonono, hör auf damit! Muss ich dich wieder fangen und festhalten? Ergh...!” The Butcher stretched down to reach the shadowy interior with one hand and grabbed hold of something which struggled pitifully against his strength. When he straightened and flicked the cover back over the large box, he turned to reveal his fingers curled around a pure white pigeon of some sort—neck feathers ruffled and feisty but very unable to escape its position.

            Still with bird a prisoner in his hand, Dr. Ludwig slipped back into his chair and looked about in short, embarrassed glances. Mercier’s raised eyebrow got even more raised.

            “…Doves?” he ventured.

            “Ja, er. Zhey are new. Zhis one is a bit aggressive.”

            “How ironic.”

            “Really I just need a proper cage for zhem… more space.” He peered hopefully over the rims of his glasses at the spy, “Would zhat be somezing possible to have, if I take up zhe offer?”

            “Mon amí, you can have whatever cages you want or need,” Mercier almost laughed at the trifling nature of the request, “for whatever test subjects you want. For birds it would be supremely easy…”

            The Look which flooded up into and pooled behind the killer doctor’s eyes like a tide of blood made Mercier bite down a bit too hard on the cig’s filter; here, with that unbridled laser-beam of violent intent aimed into his soul, he could believe beyond any doubt that this was the phantom doctor which had made the habit of divesting Operation Paperclip sign-ons of their spinal columns. He also knew without a doubt he had made a grave error—and he hoped not too literally.

            “Zhey are not test subjects,” Ludwig snarled. The pigeon in his grasp settled its feathers and began boredly biting at the man’s thumbnail, which did nothing to break his murderous focus.

            “Ahem… apologies,” Mercier tried not to let on how much the sweat beading beneath his mask itched, and fixed his sights on the white bird in order to break the hellish eye contact, “so… these birds are..?”

            “Haustiere. Zhe English is ‘pets’, I believe.” He spat, dripping sarcasm. With his free hand, the Butcher demonstrated by stroking the creature gently on the head with two fingers (which the pigeon proceeded to gnaw at with renewed vigor). “And zhey would be coming with me.”

            “Of course,” the spy internally sighed with relief as the promise of a gruesome death simmered down, placated by the presence of the fluffy little critter. He pinched out the remains of his cigarette and tucked the filter into his case’s “trash pocket” before fetching out a fresh one. “Now, if there are no further questions?”

            “None zhat are zat important,” the doctor let out a huff, scritching up the handheld dove’s neck feathers until the thing’s eyes pinched nearly shut with tame delight and it stopped fussing.

            “Excellent,” the spy lit the new cig and held out a hand palm-up, expectantly, “What shall I tell my employers?”

            “I zhink I have been convinced.” Dr. Ludwig cracked a faint smile—all pearly teeth and the most menacing appearance of dimples and crowsfeet to exist. “Ja, I need to leave zhis disaster of an operating theater anyvay… about zat transport?”

            “Take this—” Mercier slipped what appeared at first to be an innocuous business card from another pocket in his cigarette case and passed it to the doctor. “Call the number here, within the week if you could. The person you speak to can arrange everything when you are ready. Just be sure to identify yourself and bring up our little meeting tonight.”

            “Danke,” Ludwig held the card between two fingers, dubiously examining the branding of the front-business plastered all over the hunk of cardstock: “R.E.D. Bread.” The pigeon kicked up a brief fit of coos, stretching its neck to try and nibble at the paper before the doctor sighed and held it well away to tuck the card into his breast pocket. “Vell, zhey’ll be hearing from me soon, zhen.”

            “Mm-hm,” Mercier stood, puffing lightly on the fresh carcinogens as he took a few steps towards the door. “Very good. I look forward to working with you, doctor. I would be especially pleased if you could show me your, ahem… ‘collection’ sometime,” he tipped his head in the direction of the parked van, and the still-unloaded skeleton model wearing a former-Nazi’s peaked hat.

            “Oh! Ohohah,” The Butcher’s unnervingly cheery grin returned, chest puffing out slightly with a pride which Mercier understood well but was still a teensy hint freaked out by, “You saw zhose, ey? Hm, well I suppose I could give you zhe tour, once I’m settled in.”

            “Fantastique… I will look forward to this also.” Mercier stepped out the door, aiming a courteous nod back towards man and bird, “Until then, I bid you adieu.”

            “Lebe wohl!” Dr. Ludwig replied with a half-chuckle, the pigeon in his hand cooing emphatically and watching the spy retreat and politely close the door behind him with a few twitchy tilts of its head. Once outside, Mercier took a pause—eyes settling on the anatomical skeletal model dangling on its rolling frame and the bloodied hat still resting on it. He stared at—really past it—as he vacuumed mightily at his cigarette until the tip blazed. His weary exhale wreathed his whole head in a stormcloud of smoke.

            “Mon Dieu…” He sucked in another cloud, examining the skull closely and noting how very much detail was paid to making the teeth look, uh, flawed and… real. “C’est l’homme qui me soignera si je suis blessé par balle…”

            With that thought, Mercier pocketed the second spent, snubbed filter end and picked up a brisk stroll out of the alley and over to the cracked, dirty lot tucked around the neighboring street corner where he’d left his car. At least now, here, alone in a nighttime city hundreds of miles from any Team Fortress stronghold or even safehouse, he wanted most to put a little distance between himself and the mad doctor.

            There would be times and places (not now and with backup, and most importantly with repercussions) for cordial familiarization with his new, terrifying colleague.

            The doctor, meanwhile, was content to tend his recently-rescued birds before sealing and starting up the filled autoclave—a murmured and casual rendition of “Bei Mir Bist Du Shoen” echoing up between the damp cinderblocks into the alley. Lined up on a shelf for their evening feeding time, the pigeons didn’t understand what this bizarre giant that fed them delicious sunflower kernels and slivers of lettuce off his sandwich was singing to them, but they did seem to appreciate the time out of their makeshift box nest and the undivided attention.

            Whether the upstairs neighbors thought much of it was unknown. Wasn’t time to figure it out. Within two days of the foreign lyrics drifting up their drainpipes, the basement room had been cleared out except for a threadbare dentist’s chair, ratty shelving and a few loose white feathers. The van sat dead and gutted—with no one putting together its connection with the recent disaster of a dignitary’s wedding—most choosing to just pick it clean for parts and tires and make no mention to the authorities. They were a little puzzled where that friendly European doctor went—and were sad to see he’d gone so quickly from the area—but glad various local folk had gotten a shiny new kidney, a square foot of healthy skin over an old stretch of scar tissue, a functional liver, a couple of cleared-up nasty infections, and a miraculously good knee out of it.

            Oh well. C’est la vie.

[jajafilm]

Nadpřirozené myšlenky

Ačkoliv se seriál Criminal Minds (Myšlenky zločince) odehrává ve fikčním světě, ve kterém nejsou žádné prvky fantasy, fanoušci docela často a rádi tento prvek do FF přidávají, nebo tvoří crossovery s jiným fandomem, který ho obsahuje. Já sama nejsem žádnou výjimkou. Ráda čtu o tom, jak se hrdinové z BAU musejí poprat s tím, že nadpřirozeno existuje a jak to naruší jejich dosavadní vnímání světa. Původně jsem chtěla vytvořit jen seznam CM/SPN, což je asi v tomto tématu ten nejpopulárnější crossover spojení, ale pak jsem si uvědomila, že se nejedná pouze o jedno spojení fandomů a že bude mnohem lepší, když to uchopím celé.

FF pouze na Criminal Minds s fantasy prvkem

Restless

Autor: phantomeyeswriter

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13541928/1/Restless

Anotace: Reidova nechuť k dotykům byla v poslední době zjevnější. Pouze Hotch ví proč.

MP: Reid je postřelen a zemře, neopustí však tento svět. Zůstává jako duch, aby dál pomáhal svému týmu. Jediný kdo zná pravdu o Spencrově stavu je Hotch. Postupně se to však dozvídají i ostatní a rozhodnou se Reida přivést zpět ze záhrobí. Povídka bohužel není dokončená.

Assault of Empathy

Autor: Moriarty-Mastermind

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10879718/1/Assault-of-Empathy

Anotace: Dr. Spencer Reid je empat. Cítí emoce a duševní stav ostatních, může ovlivňovat jejich vlastní emoce a cítí emoční otisk zanechaný na objektech. Tuto moc měl již od dětství a naučil se ji udržovat v tajnosti. Ale jak dlouho to může držet před členy BAU? Zvláště když se jeho schopnosti začnou vymykat jeho běžnému stavu.

MP: Povídka bohužel není dokončená. Reid má telepatické schopnosti, které před týmem tají. Tyto schopnosti dostal, poté co byl zabit na střední svými spolužáky a následně stal z mrtvých. Po mnoha letech jeho tyrani ze školy začnou vraždit a zdá se, že je za tím jiný člověk, který má podobné schopnosti, jako Spencer.

Unwound

Autor: wednesdays__child

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Pár: Hotch/Spencer

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752068

Anotace: Při vyšetřování jednoho případu je Hotch vystaven pramenu mládí, což má za následek ztrátu paměti to, že se z čtyřiceti pětiletého muže stane znovu teenager. I když se Hotchovi postupně paměť i věk vrací, stále to je veliký šok a problém jak pro jeho rodinu, tak pro celý tým BAU.

MP: Za mě dost šílená fantasy věc, kterou bych asi od fanouška CM nečekala. Hotch se zde chová OOC, což je jasně dáno tím, že prostě je mu najednou čtrnáct a tak je to nadržený sem tam sprostý dospívající (nikoliv galantní gentleman), tak jak to u dětí občas bývá. Svádění Reida je legrační a trochu oplzlé, chtěla bych, aby toho tam bylo míň a autorka se více soustředila na další aspekty problému, když hlavní vedoucí jednotky takto najednou omládne. Chtěla bych více interakce s Jackem a více problému na pracovišti. Nicméně i tak se mi ta šílenost líbila a dost jsem se u toho pobavila.

Extraordinary (Nové)

Autor: KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic

Pár: Hotch/Spencer

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34075051/chapters/84766717

Anotace: V rámci FBI existuje specializovaný tým plný elitního výběru lidí. Jedineční jedinci s velmi zvláštními dovednostmi. A jejich úkolem je vzít neobvyklé případy: ty, které je třeba nejen vyřešit, ale není jisté, zda je nesubjektem člověk, nebo něco úplně jiného.

Ve světě plném upírů, nelidských tvorů a neznámých poddruhů existuje jen tolik informací, aby je bylo možné vágně regulovat. Pravidla, která jsou tak snadno a násilně porušována, a to vše skrytá na očích nic netušící veřejnosti.

MP: BAU je speciální jednotka FBI, která řeší těžké zločiny a je tvořena nadpřirozenými bytostmi. Hotch je upír, Emily čarodějnice, Morgan vidí lidské aury, Rossi je nesmrtelný kněz, JJ manipuluje s veřejným míněním, Penelopa ovládá elektřinu a počítače. Jediným člověkem v týmu je Reid, který je prostě jen své příliš chytré já. Povídka popisuje jak případy, tak vztah Hotche a Spencra, kdy Reid nechá Aarona, aby se jím krmil, protože ho miluje.

Setkání v Římě

Autor: MaryBarrens

Jazyk: Čj

Pár: Hotch/Spencer

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663027

Anotace: Když Morgan dostane od svých dětí dovolenou v Římě, potká někoho, koho viděl naposledy před lety. Někoho, kdo měl být už dávno mrtvý.

MP: Reid je zde nesmrtelný. Pěkné, jako skoro vše, co Mary napíše.

Náznaky

Autor: MaryBarrens

Jazyk: Čj

Pár: Hotch/Spencer

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/series/48613

Anotace: Reid byl vpravo od něj a zuřivě se rval s Watersem, a opravdu, neměl teď ležet na zemi, na zádech, s rukama a nohama rozhozenýma a s kulkou v hrudi?

MP: Reid je upír. První povídka ze série „Tajemství“.

Criminal Minds/Supernatural

Na tento crossover má MaryBarrens skoro celou sekci. Nebutu tedy vyjmenovávat všechny její díla. Já sama jsem také dvě napsala, jedná se o povídky „Skutečná FBI“ a jednodílné pokračování „Zbylé zlo“.

No Way Out III

Autor: KelinciHutan

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4401734

Anotace: Sérioví vrah se po své smrti stane démonem a na stanici se objeví dva lidé, kteří předstírají, že jsou agenti FBI.

MP: Jeden z těch nejlepších crossoverů na tyto dva fandomy.

Sour Cherry Pie Life

Autor: FaithDaria

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7050961/1/Sour-Cherry-Pie-Life

Anotace: Dean odešel do civilního života. Škoda, že tohle nikdo neřekl sériovému vrahovi, který v současné době pronásleduje teenagery v Indianě.

MP: Dean po zastavení apokalypsy začne žít s Benem a Lisou. Když se však v okolí objeví sérioví vrah, nemůže se ubránit a alespoň vypracuje geografický profil pachatele a domovskou ochranu dětí. K případu je pozvána BAU, na které Deanova práce zapůsobí.

A weekend with the Winchesters

Autor: just a little rain

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10587993/2/A-weekend-with-the-Winchesters

Anotace: Sam a Dean vyšetřovali skupinu neobvyklých zmizení. Bohužel pro ně místní policie už zavolala do týmu BAU. Co se stane, když Winchester při práci na případu unese jednoho z agentů FBI?

MP: Dean a Sam pracují na případu, bohužel přitom je pozná JJ a tak ji Sam s Deanem unesou, aby nemuseli hned odjet z města a nechat případ ladem. JJ se bojí, unesli jí dva nejhledanější psychopati ve státech, brzy se však přesvědčí, že Winchesterovi nejsou tak špatní, jak se všichni domnívají.

Full of Surprises

Autor: Gozzer

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707580

Anotace: Spencer Reid býval lovcem. Ne druh, který zabíjí zvířata, druh, který ničí monstra. Myslel si, že se dostal ze hry, dokud se to zas všechno nerozesere, zatímco pracuje se svým týmem na případu.

MP: Spencer je před týmem, že je lovec a zná bratry Winchestrovi. Bohužel jednou Dean uvízne v BAU jako hlavní podezřelý a tak Reid musí s pravdou ven. Moc povedená jednohubka.

Monsters in Your Closet

Autor: Jomacblack

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Typ: crossover (Supernatural, Criminal Minds)

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464364/chapters/46330363

Anotace: Když ABU zatkne Castiela, Dean se Samem unesou Reida, a chtějí ho za svého anděla bez schopností vyměnit. Tým FBI se bojí, protože bratři jsou hledaní známí sérioví vrazi, kteří by neváhali jejich člena rozčtvrtit a tak k výměně nakonec svolí. Spencer mezitím ujišťuje, že jeho únosci nejsou nic takového, co si o nich agenti myslí.

MP: Jedna z nejlepších crossoverů, které jsem četla. Strašně by mě zajímalo číst pokračování, ve kterém Reid využívá co se od Winchestrů naučil.

Natural Minds Meet: Crossover Fan Fiction

Autor: ??

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://stunudo.tumblr.com/post/161623033088/natural-minds-meet-a-crossover-fan-fiction, https://stunudo.tumblr.com/post/163570065613/natural-minds-chat-a-crossover-fan-fiction

Anotace: Reidovi bolí hlava, lékaři mu tvrdí, že je to psychomatické, což je blbost. Až ho navštíví Dean a vysvětlí mu, že se jedná o ducha, projde s ním poslední případy, na kterých pracoval a když spálí malou sošku chlapce, Reidovi se konečně uleví.

MP: Moc pěkný Gen crossover, ve kterém se Spencer dozví pravdu o nadpřirozenu.

SPN/Criminal Minds crossover: This Bitter Earth

Autor: art_savage

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://art-savage.livejournal.com/21902.html

Anotace: Winchesters a jednotka FBI pro analýzu chování vyšetřují stejný případ, řadu záhadných úmrtí na základě plantáže v Jižní Karolíně.

MP: Duch, Dean je jako podezřelý zatčen ABU, mírné přátelství Morgana a Deana.

The Devil Made Me Do It

Autor: FireflyFanatic3x

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9676438/1/The-Devil-Made-Me-Do-It

Anotace: Abaddon něco chystá a Sam, Dean a Cas musí zjistit co dřív, než bude příliš pozdě. Ale když se v Libanonu v Kansasu objeví 7 těl, je povolán tým BAU, aby chytil dva z nejvíce hledaných sériových vrahů. Neodpočinou si, dokud Winchestrové nebudou v base. Jaký bude profil lovce? A jak zachráníte svět z vězení?

MP: V této povídce se Penelopa zná se Samem ze Stenfordu. Nemůže uvěřit, že její bývalý přítel je nebezpečný sériový vrah. Cas je padlý anděl a již nemá nadpřirozenou sílu. Abaddona ho unese a chce proměnit všechny lidi v démony. Tým BAU se dozvědí, že existuje nadpřirozeno a po několika důkazech nakonec bratřím pomůže.

Spree

Autor: littlejareau

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9803515/1/Spree

Anotace: Sam a Dean Winchester jsou vrazi. Ale jsou to opravdu oni?

MP: Zde Sama zná JJ. Jedná se o jejího přítele z dětství. Sam JJ zavolá a chce se nechat zatknout, jen však, aby dokázal, že všechny ty vraždy nemají na svědomí on a jeho bratr, ale jejich dvojníci leviatani. Povídka pokračuje dále FF „Hunt“ a měla mít i další díly, bohužel je nedopsaná.

Rain Check

Autor: Partly

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6624165/1/Rain-Check

Anotace: Vyšetřování zavede Hotche do Harvelle's Roadhouse.

MP: Hotch se při jednom vyšetřování setká s Jo a Ellen, ale sotva pochopí, že se nachází v loveckém doupěti.

Officially, This Didn't Happen

Autor: Fitz

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829519

Anotace: Hotch jde navštívit Halyn hrob, když narazí na Winchestery.

MP: Tohle se mi docela líbilo. Škoda že v povídce není lépe prodaný motiv odhalení nadpřirozena… nicméně interakce Hotch a bratři Winchesteři je moc pěkná.

Drowned

Autor: eden22

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703341

Anotace: Sam a Reid jsou uneseni mořským koníkem, nebo co je to za monstrum. Spencer si myslí že Winchesteři jsou sérioví vrzy. BAU mezitím zatkne Deana.

MP: Klasický crossover těchto dvou fandomů. Líbí se mi, jak jsou zde bratři považováni za podezřelé až do úplného konce. Žádné vysvětlení pro FBI, že nadpřirozeno existuje.

Monsters are Real

Autor: whiskygalore

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424113

Anotace: Hotch se setká s dvaadvacetiletým Deanem, který ho rozčílí. Později se dozví od Gideona, že nadpřirozeno je skutečné a že Winchestrové tyto monstra loví... Aaron si však i tak myslí, že i když John svého syna nemlátí, není dobrým otcem a duševně ho týrá.

MP: Na začátku trochu více přisprostlé, než by bylo nutné, ale pak se povídka ubere tím správným směrem. Líbí se mi jak Hotch i po té co se dozví pravdu, vidí, jak John Deana směřuje a že to co mu vsugerovává do hlavy, není správné. Tedy John zde není bezohledný vrah, ale ani svatoušek (tak trochu obyčejný parchant) a Gideon na to není o nic lépe.

Chasing Ghosts

Autor: Blondie 20000

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13796958/1/Chasing-Ghosts

Anotace: BAU ve městě vyšetřuje řadu úmrtí. Civilisté trvají na tom, že je to duch. Duch? Duchové neexistují. Že jo? Ukázalo se, že nejsou jediní, kdo vyšetřují tento podivný případ.

MP: Hotch s Reidem na hřbitově potkají dva muže vykopávající hrob sériového vraha. Nejdříve si myslí, že ti dva jsou nebezpeční, možná i jejich neznámý. Jenže pak se ukáže duch onoho sériového vraha a agenti tak zjistí, že nadpřirozeno existuje. Nemůžou ovšem o tom říct zbytku svému týmu, protože, kdo by jim věřil? Moc pěkná jednohubka. Přesně to, co člověk chce od tohoto crossoveru.

Prove to Me (It's Real)

Autor: HildegardBi

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890686/chapters/60224605

Anotace: Spencer vidí něco, co by neměl. A ani neví, jestli je to skutečné... Spencer je vystaven nadpřirozenému a je přesvědčen, že má halucinace.

MP: Reid je zachráněn Winchestery před upírem, nedokáže tomu ovšem uvěřit. Bratři jsou přeci sérioví vrazi a upíři neexistují, ne?! Když zjistí pravdu, rozhodne se klukům pomoci s dopadením upírského hnízda.

A Family Matter

Autor: Heavenstands

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33395932/chapters/82951750

Anotace: Z rukou Hankela je Spencer unesen Winchestery. Ti mu tvrdí, že je jejich bratr, snaží se ho vycvičit a přimět ho, aby jim daroval svoji krev na nějaký rituál. Tým je nervózní a domnívají se, že jejich nejmladší člen trpí stockholmským syndromem.

MP: Taková klasika na toto téma, bohužel zatím nedopsaná, takže se těžko soudí, jaká povídka bude dál.

Double Trouble

Autor: Practicalsome

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33346318/chapters/82814545

Anotace: Winchesterovi objevili nového démona, sériového vraha známého jako George Foyet. Přirozeně se rozhodnou, že nejlepší způsob, jak to vypátrat, je unést agenta, kterého Foyeta pronásledoval, aby viděli, co ví. Měli ten plán trochu víc promyslet.

MP: Kluci jdou po Foyetovi, unesou Hotche, aby se zeptali na detaily. Problém nastane, když takzvaný démon napadne agentovi rodinu a ukáže se, že to vlastně není nadpřirozené monstrum, jen monstrum.

and i'll find strength in pain (Nové)

Autor: pinkzelink

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504609

Anotace: Měl to být normální, přímočarý případ.

No, v jejich případě „normální a přímočarý“ obvykle znamenalo stopu zlomených a krvavých obětí. Přidejte k tomu město s počtem obyvatel přibližně o velikosti Spencerovy třídy absolventů střední školy a přetíženou kancelář šerifa a dostanete BAU na dosah ruky.

BAU narazí na případ, který je víc, než se zdá, a Hotchovi a Morganovi se otevřely oči do zcela nového světa. Naštěstí pro ně má Reid v tomto oddělení nějaké zkušenosti.

MP: Spencer, Derek a Hotch jsou na případ, kde je démon. Reid naštěstí ví, co má dělat, protože se již s nadpřirozenem setkal. O Deanovi tu je jen zmíňka.

Just Another Day (Nové)

Autor: Franklin_T0rtle

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705998/chapters/70380081 

Anotace: Jednotka behaviorální analýzy nikdy neviděla tak matoucí případ s tak spletitou časovou osou. Nesubjekty nemají zjevnou MO, preferovanou metodu zabíjení nebo typ oběti. Přesto jsou odhodláni to rozlousknout. Ale pokud si myslí, že těmto bratrům dokážou dát smysl, čeká je další věc. Nikdy předtím nestáli proti Winchesterům a odpovědí na jejich otázky je mnohem víc, než o co se domlouvali.

Sam a Dean Winchesterovi byli – opět – zatčeni. Zdá se, že policejní vazba na ně nikdy neulpí a není žádným překvapením, že sedí v cele. Přichází s územím, znají cvičení. Už jsou na to zvyklí – ale také se nikdy předtím nesetkali s BAU.

MP: Celkem klasicky crossover s těmito fandomy, kdy jsou kluci zatčeni a pak se na stanici objeví démon a BAU pochopí, že nadpřirozeno je skutečně. Hezky napsané, ale nic zvláštního.

Swerve (Nové)

Autor: colls

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976773

Anotace: Během roku, kdy byl Dean v očistci, Sam skončí zpět ve vazbě FBI.

MP: Sam je po smrti svého bratra zase zatčen. Je však unavený předstírat, že nadpřirozeno neexistuje. Naštěstí pro něj i BAU. Spencer sleduje léta jeho případ a je ochoten připustit, že by mohl být nevinný. Navíc Sam FBI pomůžu s vyřešením případu. Cítím z toho takovou melancholii.

Feds, Felons, and Pie (Nové)

Autor: sesshachan

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357020/chapters/7343108

Anotace: Byl to jen další případ, dokud nebyl Spencer proklet. Teď vypadá na čtyři roky a netuší, kdo ho proklel. Naštěstí zná lidi, kteří se na podobné věci specializují.

MP: Reid je proklet - omlazen do svého čtyřletého já. Zachová si však své dospělé vzpomínky. Naštěstí ví komu má při příležitosti s čarodějnicemi zavolat. Tým se tak setkáva se Samem a Deanem. To, že existuje nadpřirozeno, BAU tedy zjisti docela brzy a důkaz toho mají přímo před sebou v podobě situace jejich kolegy. Což ubírá té povídce na té pikantnost. Jinak je to fajn krimi řešení nadpřirozeného případu. Zajímavostí je, že Spencer se ze svého prokletí nevymaní, do budoucna zůstává mladým chlapcem, který musí znovu vyrůst.

The Kids are All Right (Nové)

Autor: SeeEmRunning

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838321

Anotace: Co když v Criminal Minds 6.09 byli zajati chlapci z Winchesteru?

MP: Sam se neustále sleduje v obdobích, které má na starosti BAU. Končí to smrtí Jess. Výjimečná povídka, protože zachycuje období Samova dospívání.

No Difference (Nové)

Autor: The_Bookkeeper

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666525

Anotace: Derek byl v mnoha špatných situacích. Ten se snadno dostane do první pětky. Nebo ano, pokud by se Dean a Sam Winchester ve skutečnosti chovali jako sadističtí psychopati, jak od nich očekával. Místo toho Dean odkazuje na Star Trek, Sam uklidňuje Reida a Derek nikdy nebyl tak zmatený.

MP: Sam s Reidem a Derek s Deanem zůstanou nějakou dobu zavalení v jeskyni, kde kluci lovili wendigo. Sam s Deanem se na nebezpečnou psychopatii chovají míle.

Open your eyes, take a look behind the curtain (do you like what you see?) (Nové)

Autor: Hannitah

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24125812/chapters/58083571

Anotace: BAU se dozví o existenci nadpřirozena a jde k Winchesterům pro pomoc, ale oni právě získali Samovu duši zpět a mají své vlastní problémy, se kterými se musí vypořádat. Když se objeví nový případ, kdy jsou ženy zabíjeny v zamčených místnostech, musí odložit své neshody a pokusit se spolupracovat.

MP: Tým BAU se setkají s upírem, zachrání je neznámý lovec. Řeknou si, že se budou muset o nadpřirozenu dozvědět víc, aby to uměli rozpoznat od svého normálního případu. Kontaktuji Winchestry, jako své konzultanty, ti však mají svých starostí dost. Oproti ostatním povídkám, tady je zajímavé, že k setkání bratrů s týmem FBI dojde na základě toho, že je BAU sama vyhledá s prosbou o školení. Také je v této povídce pachatelem tulpa, což též není moc časté.

Fanning the Flames

Autor: mandraco

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Pár: Demian/Barnes

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436415

Anotace: Někdo vraždí podle Chuckovích. Členové ABU si myslí, že by to mohl být někdo nábožensky založený. Sam s Deanem se domnívají, že by to mohl být rozzlobený duch. Jen jeden tým má pravdu.

MP: Tradiční crossover se však netradičním canoním párem. Líbí se mi, že na konci ABU nejsou přesvědčeni, že nadpřirozeno je skutečné… je to jen otevřená možnost.

When it Rains, it Pours

Autor: Chaotic_Librarian

Pár: Aaron Hotchner/Dean Winchester

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48044065

Anotace: Hotch zjistil, že monstra jsou skutečná, když se George Foyet ukázal jako upír. Upír, který zabil svou bývalou manželku a jejich syna a kterému Hotch musel utrhnout hlavu holýma rukama. Co jiného tedy bude dělat, než vyhledat jediné dva muže, kteří mohou odpovědět na jeho otázky?

MP: Poté co Hotchova rodina byla zavražděna upírem, skonči agent s prací pro FBI a rozhodne se vyhledat a spojit s nechvalně známým bludným sériovým vrahem Deanem Winchestrem. Protože evidentně jeho bludy jsou skutečné. Dobrá jednohubka, která pokračuje ne tak zdařilou kapitolovou povídkou „My Love Pours Over You Like Rain Pouring Down Your Face“.

One Year On

Autor: Chaotic_Librarian

Pár: Spencer Reid/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45324532/chapters/114032719

Anotace: Rok poté, co byl Spencer Reid umístěn pod ochranu svědků, jeho tým konečně dostal šanci sejmout muže, před kterými byl Reid chráněn. Ale Spencer se zabydlel ve svém novém životě jako Mark Porter, knihovník. Jak se může vrátit do života, o kterém už necítí, že mu patří?

MP: Závěrečný díl série „It Wasn't Supposed to be This Way, But Perhaps It Was Always Meant to Be“. Reid žije pod ochranou svědků jako knihovník, protože ho několikrát unesli Winchestři. Problém je, že svýmu týmu nikdy pořádně nevysvětlil, že ony únosy mu vlastně zas tak nevadili. Sam s Deanem evidentně nejsou sérioví vrazi, ale lovci monster. Jenže to se těžko vysvětlí týmu, kteří na nadpřirozeno nevěří. Spencer navíc po čase odloučení od BAU si uvědomí, jak byla pro něj práce v FBI špatná, a že chování v týmu nebylo vždy OK. Nakonci je Aaronovi a Garcie odpuštěno.

Criminal Minds/Harry Potter

Lord Potter at the BAU

Autor: pwebes

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24991303

Anotace: Harry Potter je jeden velký magnet problémy. Na jeho „dovolené“ v Americe je najednou zatčen a vyslýchán americkými mudly o smrti Amelie Wintersové. O oné ženě nikdy neslišel, takže požádá o svůj jediný telefonát a zavolá Ministrovi magie Kinglseymu Shacklebotovi.

MP: Harry je zatčen BAU za vraždu ženy, o které ani nevěděl, že existuje... a tak zavolá na ministerstvo Kinglseymu. Kraťounká jednohubka, která neohromí ani nezamrzí. Nebylo by špatné si přečíst pokračování.

Fighting for Freedom

Autor: dreamsofmermaids

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560360/chapters/69990969

Anotace: Na konci děsivého čtvrtého roku Harry zaslechne něco ve vlaku zpět do Londýna, které uvede do pohybu řadu událostí, které odhalí pravdy, změní rozhodnutí a pošlou Harryho na cestu skutečné svobody. Ale nic nepřichází bez boje.

MP: Harry je Hotchův syn, to se však dozví až poté, co zjistí Brumbálové zákeřné intriky i zradu svých nejlepších přítel. Rozhodne se vymanit z Brumbálova vlivu. Pomocí skřetů z banky se očistí od viteálů, emancipuje a vytvoří rituál, aby kouzelnický svět na zlého ředitele upozornil a rozloučil se. Rozhodne se zkusit odjet do Ameriky a nalézt svého otce. Když ho však konečně najde, Hotch mu nevěří a odstrčí ho. Což se agentovi FBI šeredně vymstí, když Harryho pak unese sériový vrah. Povídka zatím nedokončená.

Adoptivní otec, zlý Brumbal.

What Fades Away

Autor: Magi Silverwolf

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864201

Anotace: Jason Gideon si konečně všiml, že jeho svěřenec si našel nového přítele. Rád by řekl, že je to dobrá věc, ale nemůže. Problém je v tom, že strávil příliš dlouho lovem příšer, než aby nepoznal, že se jedná o trénovaného bojovníka. V jeho mysli není pochyb, že doktor Harry Black je víc než obyčejný knihovník.

MP: Gideon si všimne, že kolem jeho mladého svěřence se motá jakýsi knihovník a to mu není třikrát po chuti. Pozná totiž z jeho postoje a pohybů, že se jedná o nebezpečného člověka. Možná voják, špión, nebo neznámý... A tak se rozhodne, že by bylo lepší, kdyby záhadného Harryho Blecka od Reida odloučil, nebo ho alespoň prověřil. Jedná se o celou sérii, ve které se přátelí Reid, Harry a Lenka. Harry je zde mocný pán smrti.

The Housekeeper

Autor: enchanted nightingale

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Pár: Hotch/Harry

Odkaz: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7496865/1/The-Housekeeper

Anotace: Po smrti Haly si Hotch najme chůvu na hlídání jeho syna Jacka. Jedná se o zelenookého laskavého muže, do kterého se náš agent FBI nakonec zamiluje. Netuší však, že jeho „chůva“ je ve skutečnosti válečný hrdina a mocný kouzelník.

MP: Většina crosoverů HP a CM je zaměřena na vztah Hermiona a Reid. Dává to smysl, dva inteligentní a mladí lidé… Nicméně, žádná z těch povídek nedosahuje kvality i originality této. Povídka má vše, co bych od takového tématu chtěla. Rodinný pohodový život, napětí v tajemství a anagnórisis (odhalením) toho, že je Harry čaroděj, pozadí s řešením případů, či sladká romantická zápletka.

Criminal Minds/ Fullmetal Alchemist

Do tohoto crossoveru jsem se také zapojila v povídce „Zákeřná pravda“.

God Complex

Autor: BatRak

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Pár: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47947276/chapters/120889489

Anotace: První případ Edwarda Elrica s BAU: Unsub, který svým obětem sundá pravé nohy.

MP: Součást série „Construct Small Wings and Try to Fly“. Roy a Ed se propadnou skrz alchymistický portál do našeho světa. Začnou tam žít jako normální USA občané. Ed chodí na univerzitu, kde si ho všimne BAU a po čase začne s týmem pracovat. Je však podezřelé, jak dobrý je agent, co byste od bývalého státního alchymisty čekali? Povídka zatím není dokončená.

When They Pick Through the Wreckage

Autor: AngelSelene

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Pár: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, JJ/Will

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130303/chapters/66251269

Anotace: BAU se dozvěděli o Royově a Edově automailu, ale Ed skrývá další tajemství a jeho svět se chystá narazit do jejich. „No tak, zvedni to sakra. Vím, že jsi ve třídě, ale neobtěžoval bych tě, kdyby to nebylo důležité. Vím, že jsi naštvaný, ale kurva mi zavolej, jo? Tohle je... Je to naše věc. Možná budeme mít cestu domů. I když jsi na mě pořád naštvaný, nebo ne…“ Zastaví se a zhluboka se nadechne. I když už nechceš, abychom tam byli... Myslím, že bys i tak chtěl jít domů, pokud můžeš." Napíšu ti adresu. Prostě zavolej. Prosím?“

MP: Podobně jako v povídce „God Complex“ i v této FF Roy a Ed jsou vrženi do našeho světa a Erlic se připojí jako profiler do BAU. Hrdinové z CM s jeho vztahem s Royem nesouhlasí, ale sotva mají relevantní názor, když neznají jejich celou historii. V této povídce se však jejich světy střetnou. Do našeho světa je přivedena alchimie. Ed, JJ a Morgan uvíznou v Amnestisu, zatímco Roy musí policistum vysvětlit, že alchimie skutečně existuje, vše, co viděli, není halucinace a že je třeba chitit spolupachatele, jenž provedl lidskou transmutaci. Závěrečný díl série „Wreckage“. Z této série ještě doporučuji povídku „Nothing Beautiful About the Wreckage“, kde Eda unesou a Roy na to má vtipnou reakci.

Criminal Minds/ Mrtví jako já (Dead Like Me)

I do tohoto crossoveru jsem přispěla a to dílem: „Neodhalené tajemství rána“.

New Life, Same Face

Autor: walrusface

Jazyk: Aj, nepřeloženo

Pár: Mason/Rube I Gideon

Odkaz: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359394/chapters/582497

Anotace: Poté, co odešel, aby se očistil, se Mason znovu objeví v Rubeově životě. Rube, který pracuje v BAU, netuší, jak Mason zapadne do jeho života coby Gideona.

MP: Mason je zde docela OOC, ale jinak je to docela milý crossover.

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Arrival at the airport

[goddamnjustgoddamn]

23.06.23

-PL-

W zależności od humoru żałuję lub nie, tego, że jestem dorosła. Odkąd skończyłam 18 lat chciałam opóźnić starzenie się w jak największym stopniu. Ale bycie coraz starszą niesie ze sobą też sporo plusów (nie wierzę, że to piszę). Na przykład to, że nie jestem już tak wystraszona jak kiedyś, w sytuacjach stresowych lepiej sobie radzę i zanim coś zrobię, to potrafię policzyć do trzech i wymyślić jakieś rozwiązanie. Mogę też być bardziej odpowiedzialna, za siebie oraz za innych. Za samodzielnie zarobione pieniądze kupuję to, co potrzebne oraz czasem to, na co mam po prostu ochotę. Jasne, to nie znaczy, że nagle wszystkie moje problemy zniknęły. Myślę, że zawsze jakieś są. Ale co jeśli po prostu tak ma być? Może gdybyśmy nie rozwiązywali problemów, to stalibyśmy w miejscu w kwestii naszego rozwoju? Zresztą, każdy zna chyba ten moment niesamowitej satysfakcji, kiedy przeskoczy się samego siebie i coś się nam uda.

Miałam wczoraj taką sytuację. Pan, który ledwie co przyleciał do naszego hotelu, zostawił telefon w taksówce. A ja z dumą przyjęłam profesjonalną postawę i starałam się mu jak najlepiej pomóc. Zadzwoniłam na infolinię kontrahenta, u którego robił rezerwację, a później staraliśmy się dodzwonić do taksówkarza. Myślę, że jeszcze parę miesięcy wcześniej bardzo bym się zestresowała w tej sytuacji, chyba nawet bardziej, niż ten pan. Ale teraz, jestem w stanie zachować zimną krew.

Uwielbiam też widzieć uśmiech innych. Staram się go zawsze wywoływać, jak najczęściej. Utożsamiam się z podejściem jednego gościa, o którym wspominałam już we wcześniejszym poście. Powiedział, że w ciągu jednego dnia stara się pobić rekord z dnia poprzedniego w sprawianiu komuś uśmiechu na twarzy. I z tą dewizą chciałabym dalej iść przez życie.

Ja sama jeszcze nie umiem siebie traktować, jak dorosłą, taką prawdziwą, jak z książek, czy jak te wszystkie dorosłe panie, które widuje się na ulicach, czy w tramwaju. Ale cieszę się, że (chyba) w pracy mnie tak traktują. Doceniają mój wkład i zaangażowanie z czego niezmiernie się cieszę.

Wracając z pracy byłam tak zmęczona, że kleiły mi się oczy, ale zobaczyłam coś, co bardzo mnie rozweseliło. W tramwaju, na siedzeniu obok siedziała pani, w jasnych falowanych włosach, a obok był pies, którego futerko bardzo przypominało jej włosy (cocker spaniel). Wskoczył jej przednimi łapkami na kolana, a pani, jak gdyby wierzyła, że towarzysz ją rozumie - mówiła do niego "Zobacz, poznajesz tą okolicę?".

-ENG-

Depending on my mood, I may or may not regret being an adult. Ever since I turned 18, I wanted to delay getting older as much as possible. But getting older also brings a lot of pluses (I can't believe I'm writing this). For example, the fact that I'm no longer as scared as I used to be, I can cope better in stressful situations and I can count to three and come up with a solution before I do something. I can also be more responsible, for myself and for others. With the money I earn on my own, I buy what I need and sometimes what I just feel like. Sure, that doesn't mean that suddenly all my problems have disappeared. I think there are always some. But what if it's just meant to be? Maybe if we didn't solve the problems, we'd be stagnating in terms of our development? Anyway, everyone probably knows that moment of incredible satisfaction when we leap over ourselves and succeed at something.

I had this situation yesterday. A gentleman who had barely arrived in our hotel had left his phone in the taxi. And I proudly took a professional attitude and tried my best to help him. I called the helpline of the contractor he was booking with, and then we tried to get through to the taxi driver. I think that just a few months earlier I would have been very stressed in this situation, probably even more so than this gentleman. But now, I'm able to keep my cool.

I also love to see others smile. I always try to evoke it as often as possible. I identify with the approach of one guy I mentioned in an earlier post. He said that in one day he tries to break the previous day's record of making someone smile. And with this motto I would like to continue to go through life.

I myself don't yet know how to treat myself like an adult, a real one, like from books, or like all those grown-up ladies you see on the streets or on the tram. But I'm glad that (I think) at work they treat me this way. They appreciate my contribution and commitment, which I am extremely happy about.

Coming back from work I was so tired that my eyes were sticky, but I saw something that cheered me up a lot. On the tram, there was a lady sitting in the seat next to me, with light wavy hair, and next to her was a dog whose fur very much resembled her hair (a cocker spaniel). He jumped onto her lap with his front paws, and the lady, as if believing her companion understood her - said to him "See, do you recognise this area?".

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Ooooohh my Dio, okay while listening to that mashup "Invincible Riot" song, and working on two drawings of PixieKars... I think I found the plot for Sapphire Heartverse 3.

Idea under the cut:

So I was imagining, since my weapon of choice is a spear, I was somehow an honorary pillarman, swiftly fighting with a spear. Doing tricks, flips, faster than lighting strikes with my weapon as if it was part of my body. A look of pure determination to defeat my opponent on my face.... but... how did we get here? Who is my opponent? Why am I part of the pillarmen crew?

So.... you know in Sugar Crash Void Bash, when my son Ramón stopped Divine Puppet! Bel from continuing to fast forward time? And their abiities clashed thus making a second ripple in the universe?

Well... that brought the pillarmen back.

No, I mean....

It brought all of them back. The entire superior humanoid life form species that previously lived underground is back. Yes, Kars, Esidisi, Wamuu, and Santana are back too! However, everyone's memory is very faded. Esi and his and Kars's sons have faded memories, but Kars was affected heavily.

For some reason, maybe it's the repressed trauma of being isolated in space and now he's suddenly back on earth, maybe it's the fact he can barely remember anything at all... and he doesn't even recognize his own family. He hardly knows who he is.

Esi tells Wamuu and Santana that it's probably for the best they just try to help Kars relax and try not to stress him out. They have to explain things to him and try to help him remember things, especially them.

Meanwhile, all is going well in the Muscadine-Ice house.

Uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh somethin happens here uuuuhhhhaaaANYWAY-

Evil stand user somehow gets the power to nullify everyone's stand. Everyone loses the ability to call upon their stands and the entire world is under the control of this asshole stand user.

Everything is all messed up blah blah blaaaaah something happens here uuuuuhhhhh-

Somehow Tippy loses zeir memory too and ze's found by Wamuu. Tippy is unconscious, and since Wamuu is the more merciful of the three, he's worried whether or not he should do anything about this random human gentleman.

Wamuu lightly kicks him, he knows the human is still alive but doesn't know what to do... especially with everything going on (pillarmen tournament to determine who is worthy of... something idk, maybe an evil pillarman oc or something happens- we-we'll see.... you know I'm not even sure what these dudes are genuinely called. They just call them "The Pillarmen". They probably have an actual name for their species and they call themselves something. One sec, let me look it up)

(Okay so it looks like they're just called "The Tribe of Darkness" which is so fucking cool. I think the threequel might have something to do with that.... maybe I might just call it "Sapphire Heartverse 3: The Tribe of Darkness"- also I just realized I said "evil pillarman oc" as if like- these dudes were not evil to begin with- well.... it is the sapphire heartverse, fuckin Dio is a good guy now and made up with Jonathan. So anyway sorry, let's continue)

Wamuu takes Tippy to the underground stone palace where his family is staying. Kars is still frazzled and having trouble coping, still breaking down every now and then and not really knowing why. For comfort, Kars has been reading some fairytale novels about elves, pixies, merfolk, and other mystical beings. Esi keeps trying to console his husband, and suddenly Wamuu is carrying an unconscious human.

Esi: aaaand your son has an unconscious human in his arms.

Wamuu explains that he doesn't mean any harm and the little human is lost, hurt, dehydrated, etc

Esi tells Wamuu to toss the human outside because he might upset Kars with his presence.

Kars realizes something.... in one of the fantasy novels he was reading, a pixie of blue hair blessed the knights with his power. Kars explains that maybe they could train the pixie or something uuuh... insert some more stuff here-

Tippy wakes up not knowing who or where he is or who these freaking superbeings are. He doesn't even remember having a stand or a family or anything. All he knows is the basics about being human, and a little bit of the English and Spanish language.

They communicate with him and realize that he doesn't remember anything or where he came from.

Long story short, Tippy is called Pixie by the pillarmen, and they train him. Since he's very lean and lacks any muscle mass, of course they overpower and hurt him during sparring and training at first.

Over time, he gets a little more toned while still remaining lean and limber. They try a bunch of different weapons, but Pixie is very skilled with a spear due to muscle memory from Sapphire Heart. He doesn't know why... but a spear is like his best friend. He even carves a place to put a heart shaped sapphire in the middle of the top.

He ends up being able to spar on an even level with Wamuu and Santana. Not only is he skilled with that spear of his, but he's very cunning and quick on his feet. Being limber, light, and flexible like a snake helps when it comes to making large men fall to their knees. Pixie uses his sharp wit and spear to his advantage.

That night, they give him a circlet that will give him his very own "horns". He wears it with pride.

Kars realizes that he might have feelings for Pixie (in my headcanon, the tribe of darkness are all polyamorous)... but he's a filthy human.

Meanwhile, Vanilla and Bel are devastated that Tippy was taken (or something, I haven't decided yet), and the world is under attack and everyone's stands are gone. Emmanuel flies over and stays for a while so they can try to solve the mystery of Tippy's disappearance... and try to defeat the evil stand user

Some stuff happens heeeeerrreee-

HEAVY SPOILERS!!! PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!!!

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

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

Anyway, Vanilla, Bel, Ramón, and Emmanuel definitely find Tippy.... but he's not Tippy anymore. He's Pixie and he's ruthless. Kars is extremely angry that these humans are trespassing and claiming that Pixie is theirs. Esidisi realizes that.... they might be telling the truth.

Kars puts his hand up to his husband's face, then smirks,

"We'll have a battle. If you win, you get to keep Pixie and leave quietly... but that won't happen, because you will be dead before you even get that opportunity."

The four have to defeat each pillarman. Including Pixie.

So some classic Jojo shenanigans happen, and the Muscadine-Ice family has to find a way to outsmart these people without using their stands.

Vanilla has to fight Esidisi

Ramón has to fight Wamuu

Emmanuel has to fight Santana

Bel has to fight Kars

Meanwhile Pixie/Tippy is watching.

Once the pillarmen have been outsmarted somehow and defeated by being pushed out of the ring one way or another,

Kars smirks,

"It's not over with yet. You still have one more of us you need to defeat."

Pixie leaps down and points his spear at all four of the family members.

"Which one does he fight?" Vanilla asks, "Me?"

Kars cackles,

"No, you ignorant human... he's going to kill all of you at once."

So the battle commences!! Pixie is extremely fast and ends up injuring each one of his family members. He leaps off of them and uses tactics he did with the pillarmen to make them trip over one another or fall over themselves. Emmanuel comments on how fast he is, but he and Vanilla could probably hold him down.

Bel scoffs and angrily points at the pillarmen,

"UM, if he couldn't be held down by those four brutes, do you really think any of us could?!"

They all try to get his memory back by saying things he should remember, but hardly anything works.

Vanilla does end up kissing Pixie, which causes him to freeze up and remember everything... flashbacks to their first kiss, how they met in the mansion, bickering occasionally, their wedding, when they found Ramón, how they raised him from baby to now, how they found out parallel universes exist, meeting Emmanuel, Divine Puppet! Beleza Muscadine, falling in love with Bel after he was released, and the life he lived after that......... Tears well up in his eyes as he kisses Vanilla back,

"What am I doing here?" Tippy says that, not because he forgot again or anything, but questioning what he's doing in the first place, "I want to go home."

Kars is enraged. He fell in love with Pixie, he was ashamed to be in love with a human but this little human meant so much to him. Now other humans are taking him away. His fists are clenched as he stands up, but Wamuu touches his father's shoulder,

"He... found his way home, Lord Kars... and a deal is a deal... they defeated him."

Kars doesn't want to believe it... but it's true. These little humans have used technicalities and loopholes to defeat each and every one of them, and since Pixie isn't "Pixie" anymore... therefore he is defeated... Kars grits his teeth and hates seeing somebody he had a connection with get taken away.

Vanilla and Bel kiss him on both cheeks, and Ramón hugs all three of them... that's when Kars's face softens a little bit... he looks over at his sons, then at his own husband, who's sniffling and crying a little bit while looking at the human family.

Kars has no other choice or say in the matter, he has to accept losing Pixie.

As they say their strange goodbyes, Emmanuel asks something that interests the pillarmen...

They need help defeating an evil human who stole people's powers. Bel is like, "Dude why are you asking?" and Emi goes, "Hey, it's worth a shot. The more the merrier, yeah?"

Kars and Esi converse for a while... soon they both end up agreeing to put an end to the evil human who's tormenting the world.

So pretty much, the pillarmen and the Muscadine-Ice family join forces to take on the evil stand user and get the other stand user's their powers back!

Later on Kars asks Tippy if ze remembers being together with him, Tippy says that ze does... Kars tries to touch Tippy's hand, but ze hesitantly takes it away. (the pillarmen also learn that Tippy and Bel have secondary pronouns, and their only reaction is, "oh okay cool, I guess that makes it easier than just saying 'he he he' all the time haha.")

Bel keeps giggling and talking about how attractive the pillarmen are, and jokes to Esi, "Do you work out?" and Esi laughs and jokes back, "No, I was born like this."

stuff happens heeeereee aaaaaaauuuugghh

Kars and Tippy can be together on one condition: Bel and Vanilla are also his boyfriends. Kars reluctantly agreed and the rest is history. so uh... it's BelNillaKarTip! or uh....TipVanKarBel! or... somethin like that... please for the love of the stone of Aja no more people in the polycule hrrrrghh- (BelTipVans is still the main main though)

Anyway, somehow the evil stand user is defeated by the pillarmen and the humans!

Some things are subject to change, some things may be edited, added, taken out, etc but yeah, this is the basics of what I have down for the threequel!

[angieloveshua]

Two meters ahead, a supercar stopped at the side of the road. Xu Ze raised his head. He recognized the car model and knew that there were only three of them in the capital, one of which belonged to He Wei.

The car door slowly opened. Xu Ze walked forward slowly until he reached the side of the driver’s seat and peered inside.

The person sitting inside wasn’t He Wei.

Lu Heyang had one hand on the steering wheel. The car’s light blue ambient lighting lit his face with a mechanical coldness. He tilted his head, looked at Xu Ze with a subtle smile, and asked, “Need a ride?”

Here comes the gentleman in his valiant white horse. 😍