#-a woman giving birth because of a car accident like in my fic

[katyobsesses]

Okay so obviously I'm freaking out over the fucking ending of the episode

But there was a moment I noticed earlier when Hen and Eddie were tossing the ball around.

Chim comments on it saying "...it's unnatural, Hen. Like the two of you down there tossing that ball around." With his teasing smile.

My brain went directly to that being a joke about her being a lesbian, and how she doesn't 'play with balls' because of that and how, well, to Chim Eddie is straight so he also doesn't usually play with balls.

And the LOOK EDDIE SHOOTS HIM.

Like they chose to cut to Eddie. That was on purpose, it meant something!

And like.. could it be a joke about how they're not usually playing catch? Or that they're not... Athletic?? Or something??? Yeah maybe, but that doesn't fit, or make much sense if I'm honest.

So I'm sticking with it being a 'playing with balls' joke. And with Eddie giving Chim that look because he's queer and how dare Chim insinuate anything else

[adri-2022]

Tiny Freckles

Fandom: Chicago PD

Characters: Jay Halstead x FemReader

Warning: none

Word count: 2522

Jay Halstead Materlist

A/N: Hi guys this is my first time ever writing a fic, so if you have some advise for me leave it in the comments. Also, english is my second langueage, I'm sorry if there are grammar errors.

Don't be afraid to leave a comment!

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It was nearly midnight and while the streets of Chicago were empty, there was a sense of urgency. It wasn't to long ago that your contractions started, if you were being honest, you've been feeling them all day, but you couldn't tell your husband because- yeah it would happen back then what is happening right now. Jay drove frantically towards Chicago Med, obviously being careful not to crash the car with his very pregnant, very much in labor wife. Just when his thoughts were driving to another world, he was pulled out by his high school sweetheart and wife Y/N grabbing his hand in a tight grip as another contraction hit.

“Oh my god they weren’t joking about the pain, I already know he’s going to be a force to be wrecked with”. You scrunched your eyes shut as if that would help the pain disappear. And boy were you feeling every bit of pain, and did you regret that time you laughed with Hailey -your husband work partner- saying they couldn’t be that bad, well yeah you were regretting a lot of things including that because damn they were worse. Jay watched silently glancing back and forth between the love of his life and future mother of his child and the street. Trying not to have and accident because then you would kick his ass.

“You alright honey? Got a hard grip there, can I have my hand back?” Jay tried to ease the tension and maybe make you laugh but you were having none of it.

“Oh- so- so you think your funny now I’m just peachy not like I’m going to give birth or anything” You appreciated him trying to keep your mind of off the pain. He just nodded his head and continued driving while you still had his hand in yours, his tracing patterns in your knuckles with his thumb and giving you that look- God -that look of just love and compassion.

Not long after that you were pulling up to the parking lot at the hospital. Jay didn’t wait a second to jump out of the truck feeling exited but scared at the same time, although he couldn’t show that to you because this time it was about you and keeping you calm so there wouldn’t be any complications. He wouldn’t risk this, not for all the money in the world this moment right here this was topping his top 3 favorite moments. First being the time, being when he met you back in the ninth grade, you guys were just kids, but he knew- right then and there that he some day would marry you. The second favorite the first time he saw you walking down the aisle not believing for a second that you really were going to marry him, because in his words -he was not enough for the most amazing woman he’s ever met- of course you thought that was bullshit. And the third, well you guys were going through it now and he couldn’t have asked for a better life partner and mother of this child and the future ones.

He helped you get out of the truck swinging the bags on his shoulders then started walking by himself leaving you there with your mouth hanging open -was he not going to help you or what-.

“Ahm- excuse me dear husband of mine, aren’t you gonna wait for me? I can’t walk like you. I’m, 9 months pregnant and about to give birth”. Your sassed because guess what? He was walking like he was on a Black Friday sale, and he wanted to get the biggest TV that he could get his hands on -it almost gave you flashbacks, yeah you weren’t going to another one of those with him. Never. Ever again- when he heard your voice he turned around with an innocent smile.

“I’m sorry honey, I’m really nervous, I love you though” “You’re something else you know that right?” “Yeah, I know” both of you chuckling while walking to the entrance of the hospital. Stepping through the door you recognized a really tall redhead, yeah that’s your brother. Well not really, he’s your brother-in-law, Jay’s older brother.

“Jay? Y/N? What’s wrong?!” Yeah, both Halstead brothers were panicking great.

“Her water broke” “My water broke” both Jay and you answered. While Jay had you tucked by the waist in order to give some support. With that being said Will helped you taking you free hand and helping you from your other side guiding you to the maternity ward. Giggles could be heard in the hallways from the three of you, Will trying to calm Jay anxious state and you laughing when you got a break from the contractions. You loved them a lot, they were the only family you had left, your parents died a while after Jay left for the rangers and you were an only child so the Halstead and your Chicago family -Med, PD and CFD- were all you needed.

Hours had past and there you were on your side having a mini meltdown over the pain and pretty much regretting not having your mom here. Trudy had been called, she was the closest thing to a mother figure ever since Jay started working as a patrol officer and then in Intelligence, but apparently today everyone in Chicago was on the streets for some kind of parade and not even the sirens were helping your chosen family to get to Med faster. And there was Jay at the side of your bed keeping a close eye on you the whole time caressing your hair and kissing you nose, lips and baby bump, also trying to get your baby to chill about the pain which made you laugh a bit.

“Breath baby, breath I’m right here. Squeeze my hand, there you go” he whispered in such a sweet voice while pulling a piece of hair out of your eyes -Jay loved your eyes he always said they were his safe place- and in other circumstances you would blush like crazy but now you just wanted nothing more than to punch his beautiful face.

“I don’t think I can do this, I’m so tired Jay” panting and out of breath while Jay rubbed your back in a calming manner.

“Yes, you can, you can. You wanna know why?” he asked kissing your forehead and rubbing his nose with yours and giving your hand a squeeze. “Why?” your voice almost cracking.

He looked at you with such love and compassion in those green eyes that made you fall in love every day. And just above a whisper “Because you are the bravest woman I’ve ever met, you Y/N Halstead are my favorite piece of art, and you inspire me every day. You are fearless, compassionate and I can’t wait for our kid to be just like he’s momma”

You looked into his eyes, with tears of love in yours and wanting nothing more than to kiss him but guess that won’t happen as another of your dear friends hit you like a fucking bus. “OH. MY. GOD, I’m going to kill you” you screamed in his face. “What- why me?” he asked with wide eyes staring back at you with a panicked expression, like he didn’t know what he did, oh, but he did know.

“This is your fault, it’s your fault I’m in pain and having to deliver a whole human being through a very tiny hole in my body. I’m never letting you get me pregnant ever again. Mark. My. Words.” Screaming and crying at the same time getting emotional by his words and frustrated by the pain. Because it was known that Jay Halstead is a very feared detective, a very badass on top of that. But man was he a big teddy bear when it came to you.

“Baby I’m pretty sure it takes two to dance the devils dance- just saying- no- ok I’ll shut up” Jay said raising his hands in surrender. He didn’t know what to do, you were in pain and didn’t want drugs for it, it was exasperating. As another contraction hit, you started screaming and squeezing Jay’s hand while he looked like a deer in headlights screaming back at you. You were pretty sure if someone walked through the door of the room, they would think you were both crazy, and that was not to far from the truth. Just as you thought of that you OBGYN walked through the door and looked at the both of you before saying her welcoming speech that you didn’t want to hear, you wanted this baby out now.

“Okay Y/N it’s time to meet your baby boy, what do you say, ready?” Dr. Montgomery asked giving you a sweet smile getting her team inside the room while you frantically shook your head looking at Jay with a panicked expression. “No, no, no I can’t”.

“Yes, you can. Hey baby look at me” Jay said. But you didn’t listen you were all in your mind thinking about all the what ifs. While you were panicking Dr. Montgomery gave Jay an encouraging look, and he called your name again successfully pulling you out of your thoughts. Oh man that voice, you would know who it was with your eyes closed in the middle of the night.

“Sunshine- look at me baby come on” this time you listened opening your eyes meeting his, which held so many emotions in them. Leaning in towards you, he connected your lips pouring every emotion into it. God, he really knew you inside and out I mean how could he not you’ve known each other since you were 15 years old. He would be a shit husband if he didn’t. Leaning his forehead with yours both of your eyes closed.

“You’re going to be such an amazing mom to our son, I just know it, you and me?” “Always” you finished. Now that your eyes were open you could see the corner of his lips turning up slightly giving you an encouraging smile. Just then the door opened again, and Trudy entered the room giving both of you an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late traffic was a bitch- Chuckles, Sunshine” she said to both of you before continuing “I’m right here, momma is right here” Trudy said picking up the hand that was free at the moment. “Let’s do this” both Jay and Trudy said averting their gaze to the doctor who was ready to start delivering baby Halstead giving her a simple nod.

After giving birth to your beautiful baby boy, everyone from Med, PD and CFD had come to congratulate you both making jokes, and everyone amazed by your baby and gone back to their shifts. The only thing that could be heard would be the soft snores of a beautiful woman who had just concurred the world or at least in Jay’s eyes as he looked at your sleeping figure and smiling lightly at the baby in his arms caressing his little cheeks. He was feeling so much at the same time fear, joy, excitement, love and proudness. As of 3 hours ago he was having his hand tortured by you, 1 hour ago he was cutting the baby’s umbilical cord with Trudy guiding him on the task. And now- now he was holding the most beautiful creation in his arms and making a solemn oath to protect and love this tiny human with everything he had. God, would he burn the world to ashes if Noah asked him to. Yeah, his name was Noah Alvin Halstead and yes Trudy, Hank and everyone who got to meet Alvin Olinski shed a tear. Jay leaned forward giving Noah a kiss on the forehead.

“You don’t know how much I’ve waited to have you in my arms, you don’t have any idea how you have changed my life. You and your momma are the best things that could’ve happen to me and I'm proud to be your dad. God please don’t grow up, stay this way. I really don’t want you to leave for collage just yet.” “Damn that was cheesy” Jay’s and Noah’s moment was interrupted by another voice and when Jay looked to the door, he couldn’t help but smile bigger than before.

“Mouse hey!” “Hey man” Greg "mouse" Gerwitz Jay’s best friend from the rangers who was supposed to be in Afghanistan right now. What Jay didn’t know is that when you started getting contractions you called Mouse and he got in the first plane back home to meet his nephew. Mouse walked silently to where Jay was stood with Noah, men he tried getting there before you fell asleep but it was a long trip so he didn’t make it in time for you, but he was here, and you would be happy when you woke up.

“I tried to get here before she fell asleep but guess what, I don’t have a car with police sirens and all that shit” mouse said sarcastically while giving his finger to Noah who wrapped his fingers around it making Mouse’s heart melt. “Shh hey, not cursing in front of my son, you owe $20” Jay said chuckling along with Mouse. Yeah, you and Jay had to install this the minute the intelligence unit walked through the door because Kevin and Adam don’t have any type of filter in them. The more Mouse looked at Noah the more he felt proud of his best friend who had overcome a lot from being in the rangers with him, to his ptsd, being a detective in Chicago’s most elite unit and everything in between Jay managed to come through with you by his side.

“I’m proud of you Jay, and I know your mom would be proud too and don’t have a doubt about it” Mouse had met Jay’s mom over a video call back when they first enlisted, such a beautiful and sweet woman. Jay looked at Mouse, would she be proud? He didn’t know but something he was sure of was that she was watching over him, Will, you and Noah- and maybe Mouse's dumbass-. He then turned to look at his son who was in Mouse arms, Jay had passed him just moments before he made the comment, like everyone had said already, Noah was a carbon copy of his dad even his tiny freckles. How could he deserve all of this after everything he’s done and gone through, Jay will always be afraid that some day he’ll wake up and everything would be gone. But looking over at your sleeping figure he knew right then and there that he would live every day and every night enjoying and praying that you and Noah would never disappear. As if reading his thought,

“It’s not a dream man, its your wonderful reality dumbass” mouse said grinning at his best friend. “What did I say about the curse words Mouse? Y/N will kill me if Noah learns any of that shit” Jay said before both of them busted out laughing.

[phoenixyfriend]

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."

[dinosaurtsukki]

pro-volleyball player!atsumu + taking care of his pregnant wife

anon: Hello I saw your kita fic with pregnant reader and it was so cute, I loved it 👉👈 can I request something similar for the Miya twins? (In Atsumu's case I have to imagine it was an accident haha)

a/n: i’m so touched that you guys really enjoyed my farmer!kita + taking care of his pregnant wife headcanons and requested for an osamu and atsumu edition. i just know that these are going to be long so i’ll be doing atsumu’s first and then osamu’s so i hope you like this !!

of course i have to talk about how you guys got together because they’re one of my favorite parts to write 

you and atsumu probably met through online dating. atsumu normally has a very busy schedule but he also wanted to date and therefore online was the way to go

surprisingly, he was more into the idea of dating someone rather than just meeting up to have sex. sure, he enjoys that but it’s different from sitting down and getting to know someone

eventually, he matched with you and he was charmed by how funny you were and that you didn’t mind his busy schedule. it wasn’t long until you went on your first date and the first time atsumu laid his eyes on you, he just had this feeling that your relationship was going to be a good one

the two of you would go on dates in your spare time but because he was often busy and tired after practice, you two would just hang out in his apartment and eat take-out

once in a while you like doing something special and cooking a home meal for him and atsumu just knows you have no idea how much he’s touched that you would cook for him

the two of you have so much fun by yourselves in your little at-home dates. one time, you and atsumu decided to marathon dreamworks movies and had a heated debate over whether shrek or megamind was better

omg you were practically yelling at each other and it was so dumb but after that, atsumu was just like ‘oh shit i have to marry her’

he ended up consulting kita and osamu for advice because this is some serious shit

anyway, he did buy a ring but he just couldn’t think of the right time to propose. atsumu ended up proposing on the spot though after the MSBY jackals won a really important game and you rushed to the court to congratulate him

your proposal was caught on TV and it was just magical

the two of you planned your wedding to take place while it wasn’t volleyball game season so atsumu was able to devote more time in helping you plan

osamu offered to be a caterer but atsumu was all ‘we can’t eat onigiri the entire night’

atsumu wanted your wedding to be quite big. he invited a lot of his past teammates and friends and he knew you had a lot of family to invite too

ngl when he saw you walking down the aisle he got impatient because you looked so beautiful and walked down to meet you halfway

‘atsumu, you kiss the bride after you say your vows’

‘i don’t care it’s my wedding’

the reception was fun. osamu was being a little shit and kept clinking his glass while you two were about to eat until kita scolded him

atsumu has definitely always wanted to take care of kids and he just knows he’s gonna be a fun dad so the two of you definitely plan to have a child

after finding out you were pregnant, you wanted to surprise/prank him. you pretended to be sick and asked atsumu to fetch you a thermometer

he got it and was like ‘this is a weird ass thermometer’ before he realized that he was holding your pregnancy test

‘oH MY GOD WE’RE HAVING A BABY????’

cue atsumu crying and hugging you tight and also spinning you around and later getting worried that he spun the baby and now the baby was also dizzy

despite the fact that he has a busy schedule with practice, atsumu still finds time to come home and take care of you

he insists on doing the cooking this time and ngl he’s not as good as his brother so osamu had to come help him out a bit. you find it sweet tho that your husband puts in the effort

atsumu already has some weird preferences for food in the first place so your pregnancy cravings don’t really bother him. like, you want a jar of pickles to yourself? atsumu is getting TWO jars so you could eat together

when he comes home after a very tiring practice he wants nothing more than to just lay down with you on the couch with his head on your lap (even though there’s not much room for him anymore)

atsumu’s definitely the type who loves to rub your baby bump and whisper things to your baby. the first time he feels your baby kick he’s just completely astounded

once he came across an article about how playing music and putting headphones on a pregnant belly will help the baby become smarter and he had i d e a s

you: atsumu, we are not making our baby listen to the shrek soundtrack

atsumu: not even fairy godmother’s cover of ‘i need a hero?’

you: okay, maybe one song

atsumu was worried that your due date was right in the middle of game season and he’d make multiple precautions to make sure you’d be able to get to a hospital safe even when he was not around

aka this meant calling kita and osamu (and even suna) and asking if you could be one of your contacts just in case

and it ended up coming in handy because you had your first contraction in the middle of an MSBY jackal game. luckily suna and osamu were beside you

osamu was basically pushing people out of the way yelling ‘PREGNANT WOMAN PLEASE MOVE’ while suna was keeping you steady

kita agreed to meet you all at the hospital and atsumu, who noticed you were gone from your seat, heard from his coach that you had gone into labor

and then bokuto and hinata were all OKAY LET’S FINISH THIS GAME QUICK SO ATSUMU CAN MEET HIS BABY

i swear to god it ended up being the MSBY jackal’s best game ever. hinata and bokuto’s power was over 9000. even sakusa got into the whole frantic energy

they didn’t even celebrate once they finished the set they all just left the court and piled into sakusa’s car

sakusa may have ignored a few traffic rules and stoplights otw but he did it to help in his own way

lmao imagine you’re in the hospital and the FOUR STAR PLAYERS OF THE MSBY JACKALS WALK IN 

by then, though, you had already finished giving birth and was now resting in your room. atsumu visited you to check if you were alright before he went to see his baby in the nursery

i swear he almost cried right on the spot when he saw his child sleeping peacefully in their crib

you woke up to the sight of your husband sitting beside your bed, smiling while cradled your child and you just knew your baby was going to be so loved

***********************************************

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos​ @miyumtwins​ @strawberriimilkshake​ @pocubo​ @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan​ @therainroguefanfiction​ @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh​ @charliefredb​ @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @tpwkatsumu @waitforitillwritemywayout

[mrs-hatake]

here comes the bride: prologue

pairings: levi x female!reader + minor zeke x female!reader.

genre: alternate universe, illegal car racing, suggestive themes, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, slow burn, falling in love, eventual smut, heavy make out sessions, hurt/comfort & fluff.

summary: “Fine.��� She breathes out without bothering to hide her unhappiness. “I’ll get married.” She swallows the bile at the back of her throat. Her mother casts a radiant smile her way and weakly reaches out to take her hand in hers. 

“Thank you.” She says sincerely, bringing Y/N’s hand to her lips and kissing it with difficulty. “I’m sure you’ll come to love Levi, he will treat you right.”

a/n: helloooooo!I'm back with another aot fic :Dthe plot for this fic came to me randomly and i instantly fell in love that i HAD to write everything down. each chapter will contain trigger warnings if necessary and this chapter is tagged with tw for mentions of death and manipulation. lastly, I would like to thank my soulmate for helping with proof reading and selecting the appropriate characters for y/n. that's all that I have. happy readings! ❤️

this fic can also be found on ao3

The sound of the monitor is deafening. It’s consistent beeping is accompanied by the soft pitter patter of the rain outside as the weather slowly transitions from spring to summer, emitting an ominous atmosphere. The grey clouds and the wind howling outside, the large rectangular windows outside don’t help with the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. People rush to seek shelter and cars zoom by despite the slippery streets, eager to reach their destination without delay.

A small family of three surround a luxurious hospital bed which fully showcased their financial status and class. The bed was covered in the finest linen, a soft cream color and the silkiest pillows that accommodate  absolute comfort.

An air purifier with the aroma of lavender and honey is found in almost every room of the hospital, masking away the horrible stench of disinfectant and death. However, it still lingers in the air, like a criminal imprisoned for life.

The woman on the bed is pale, no longer looks like the tanned Goddess that had been dubbed Miss Osaka at the Young Ladies of Japan debutant three years in a row. Her long and healthy locks have lost their sheen and are brittle and dry, split ends can be seen and her grey hair is on display, when she usually dyes them every two months. The healthy fat in her body has dissolved, leaving nothing but skin and bones. Despite all of this, her glimmer of ebullience still lives on.

“How are you feeling, mother?” A young woman in her early twenties is sitting on a wooden chair next to the hospital bed with a look of worry on her face. Her fingers are brushing through the knotted hair of the dying woman on the bed while her other hand tightly holds her mother’s boney and wrinkled hand.

The older woman offers a weak, gentle smile. “I’m fine. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” She chuckles but is soon coughing heavily, eyes shutting tightly to fight off the pain in her lungs.

“Are you alright? Should I call the nurse?”

The older woman shakes her head, however, and instead motions for the pitcher of water and the empty glass on her bedside table. Understanding dawns on her daughter’s face and she hurriedly pours a glass of warm water and hands it to her mother and helps her sit up straight to drink the entire glass in one go, her mother gasping in relief once the glass is empty.

“Mamiko.” A man in his mid sixties rubs his hand over his face in distress. He had been wearing a mask of bravery for his wife and two daughters, but seeing his usually strong and stubborn wife look so frail and weak frightened him. Memories of them butting heads, teasing each other and fighting over the course of their marriage reminds him of just how fiery his wife was. Seeing her in such a state tears off the mask he’s wearing on his face and tosses it away, exposing his true emotions.

“I’m fine, Masamune.” The woman waves him off and motions for her daughter to press the remote to raise the head of her bed so that she can sit up straight. She gives a pointed look to her husband, as if to prove her point.

All that her husband can do is sigh.

Just then, a timid knock reaches their ears and a smiling nurse enters the room with an apologetic expression on her youthful face. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are ending soon.” She reminds them gently.

Masamune tiredly nods his head and pushes himself away from the wall to cross the short distance to where his wife is resting on the bed and lovingly kisses the top of her head. “Come back to us soon.” He whispers before heading towards the door, awaiting his two daughters.

“Get well soon, mother.” The younger of Masamune and Mamiko’s daughters, Tsukiko, is a twenty year old woman in her third year of law school and is aiming to achieve her Intellectual Property Law Certificate to assist her family in the future. She bids her mother goodbye with gentle eyes and a strong squeeze to her hand.

Y/N is about to get up from her chair and mimic her father by kissing her mother goodbye, when the older woman interrupts her, “Y/N, stay. I need to discuss something with you.”

Glancing to where her father and sister were lingering by the door, she nods her head and remains in her seat. She has a feeling that her father and younger sister are aware of the topic her mother wishes to discuss with her.

When the door is softly shut behind the two, Mamiko turns to face her eldest daughter and the heir to their company. “Have I ever told you the story of the day you were born?”

Growing up, Y/N had heard the story of her birth countless times from her parents, her grandmother who had been living with them at the time, and the maids living in their mansion all told her about it. They coined it as the funniest situation they’ve ever experienced in their lives. She had heard the story so many times that she has it memorized. Still, she shakes her head no.

“It was my twenty-fifth birthday. Your aunt Chiaki insisted that we have a girls night to celebrate the big day.” Her mother chuckles at the memory of a young Chiaki who had recently gotten a pixie cut after a terrible break up with her boyfriend of three years and how she had practically dragged Mamiko out of their house.

“We did your typical girly traditions; going shopping, getting our nails done, the usual.” Her mother weakly waves her hand. “Little did I know, your father had gathered up everyone who could come to our home on short notice for a surprise birthday party. It was around three or four o’clock in the afternoon that Chiaki and I finally decided to return home. I opened the door and the lights flickered on and a discordant ‘Happy birthday!’ was yelled. I was so elated and touched by their surprise that I couldn’t stop laughing! I laughed and laughed for five minutes straight, literally, when I felt a warm and tingling sensation trickle down my legs. Though I should be embarrassed at the thought of wetting myself in front of our guests, we quickly realized that the speed and the amount of liquid rushing through was actually because my water broke.”

“Everyone screamed and squeaked at the arrival of the baby. Panicking, I was rushed into the car with your father hysterically, frantically gathering all of the necessities we need for your delivery and drove all the way to the hospital like a mad man. Now that I think about it, I’m surprised we didn’t get into some kind of accident.” Mamiko hummed at the thought and then turned to face her daughter with raw affection in those fatigued eyes of hers, and with a shaky hand, cupped her daughter’s cheek. “And two days later, our beautiful baby girl came into our world. Your father had complained that you were as stubborn as I am for taking two days to arrive but I knew that you were taking your time to get comfortable and face the world head on.”

Y/N offered her mother a small smile as she desperately tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill and swallow the thick lump in her throat. “I love you.” She whispers with a hoarse voice.

“I love you too.” Her mother returns the sentiment with a small curl of her lips.

“And you were such a joy to raise, your sister, too? of course but you were our first. Our first child, our first daughter and our first experience as parents. There were difficult times, I can’t deny that, but seeing the woman that you are today, it was worth it.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes and cascading down her cheeks. She licks the single tear that lingered on her tongue and turned her head to kiss her mother’s palm. “I’d trade the whole world for you to return home to us in good health.” Y/N’s voice is broken but her sincerity is firm.

“I know you would.” Her mother says as she retrieves her hand. “Which is why I hate myself for asking you for such a request... but I want you to know that I am doing this out of love and care for you.”

Y/N’s eyebrows draw together in confusion before realization dawns on her and she vehemently shakes her head in denial before her mother could voice her request. “No. No, I won’t do it.”

“Please, Y/N.” Mamiko holds her daughter's hand with hers using all of the strength she could muster. “Think of it as my dying wish.”

Y/N continues to shake her head but this time her shoulders are shaking as sobs rake her body. “Don’t say that!”

Neither of them say anything as Y/N continues to cry at the predicament they are in. Her mother; old, frail, and dying and is begging her to do the one thing that Y/N loathes more than anything. She had fought all her life with her parents to be emancipated from their backwards traditions, live her life how she sees fit and make her own decisions accordingly.

“I know your father and I weren’t the perfect example of a happy couple and that you have witnessed things little girls your age shouldn’t have witnessed but we tried to be decent and put together for your and Tsukiko’s sake.”

Suddenly, the memories of her parents screaming at the top of their lungs, insulting each other with words that Y/N knew she wasn’t meant to hear, and her father harshly grabbing her mother’s upper arm until it bruised, all came flooding in that moment. She had bare witness to their flawed marriage.

“I won’t force you into an arranged marriage, but I won’t die happy knowing that my first and eldest daughter isn’t married.” Mamiko knows that she is guilty of manipulating her daughter into a marriage, especially by using her nearing death as leverage, however, she is certain that her daughter will one day find it in her heart to forgive her. And that’s why she pushes on with her dying wish.

“Your father and I have already found a suitable man-”

“You found someone behind my back?” Y/N unintentionally snorts at her mother as though she does not care. She is hurting and is scared of being blackmailed into marriage.

Mamiko withholds the urge to heavily sigh at her daughter and patiently explains herself. “Your marital status has been haunting us for years, we can’t just ignore the fact that our daughter wishes to remain single for the rest of her life.”

“And you can’t just respect my wishes, can you?”

Mamiko’s eyes seem to glass over and get shiny, she hesitates, yet still won’t back down. She was doing this for her daughter. “Stop being stubborn for once and listen to your mother.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she humorlessly chuckles at her mother. She had done everything for her mother’s sake, sacrificed so much to make her happy. And the one time Y/N asks for the same in return, she is strongly denied of it.

Her mother’s coughing fit snaps Y/N out of her stupor and she hastily refills the glass with water and gives it to her. Perhaps it could be the works of her mother’s illness or the inevitable truth of her mother’s demise that has Y/N letting out a noiseless exhale, her shoulders sagging as she slumps into her seat.

“Fine.” She breathes out without bothering to hide her unhappiness. “I’ll get married.” She swallows the bile at the back of her throat.

Her mother casts a radiant smile her way and weakly reaches out to take her hand in hers. “Thank you.” She says sincerely, bringing Y/N’s hand to her lips and kissing it with difficulty.

“I’m sure you’ll come to love Levi, he will treat you right.”

When she hears that name and recognizes who he is, it feels like cold water is being dumped all over her and she shivers at the thought of a future being married to an expressionless and strict man. In that instance, she felt like she wanted to bolt and run away with a new identity. But for her mother’s sake, she puts on a brave smile and nods her head.

[everlarkficexchange]

Hanging in the Balance

Written by: @ameliaodair

Prompt #29:  I want to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta almost lose their first child and it makes their love and relationship even stronger.  [submitted by anonymous]

The prompt pretty much says it all.  On their way to visit Katniss’s mother, Katniss, Peeta, and their daughter fight for their lives.  When Peeta wakes from the devastating crash, his life— and Katniss’s are forever changed as their sweet, baby girl has the fight of her life, with her life hanging in the balance.

Thanks to the amazing @taylerwrites for her magical beta skills!

Rated T for difficult situations

Warnings: (almost) losing a child

Hanging in the Balance

“How long has it been since the last time we saw your mother?” Keeping his eyes focused on the road and his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, Peeta glanced over to Katniss, his beautiful wife of six years.

“I don’t know, maybe …  Actually, I think the last time we saw her was just after Prim was born; oh my god, I can’t believe it’s been that long.  Oh, Peeta, did you rem—” Katniss tensed up, thinking they had forgotten an important item on their checklist.

“Calm down, Katniss. Trust me,” Peeta gave his wife a charming, yet reassuring smile and reached for her hand. “I went over the list three times before we even left the house, and then once more after loading the car up.  We didn’t forget a single thing.  And if, by chance, there is something we forgot, I’m sure it can be duplicated at the nearest department store.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Katniss murmured, catching a glimpse of the back of their daughter’s head before slowly relaxing into the passenger seat next to her husband.

“In fact, I’m almost certain we brought enough stuff with us to stay for a year,” Peeta gently joked with his wife, in hopes of easing her nerves.  He knew the real reason for Katniss’s high-strung demeanor, and her incessant need to be in complete control.  She had lost her younger sister when she was just a little girl and it nearly broke her.  Peeta still wasn’t convinced she had recovered from that loss. 

Katniss and Peeta were childhood sweethearts.  While Peeta knew from the moment he entered his kindergarten classroom that he was destined to be with the beautiful girl with the stunning grey eyes,  raven-colored braids down either side of her face, and a voice that could bring a stuttering, toothpaste-stained shirt little boy to his knees, it took Katniss a little longer.  It required some convincing, but Peeta was persistent and finally, at seven-years-old, Katniss accepted his friendship-invitation.  And the lovesick fool that Peeta was decided he would take what he could get.  So, for years, they were friends— best friends. 

Peeta was there the day Katniss’s sister, Prim, died.  He had sat next to Katniss, gripping her hand like a lifeline while they stood vigil by Prim’s bedside, and watched as she took her final breaths.  And it broke him too, but not like Katniss.  She was devastated beyond belief— for so long.  And for so many years after that devastating tragedy, Katniss vowed to never have children … she could not bear to love another person with so much of her heart, only to have them ripped from her life.  They dated for five years before she finally agreed to marry him.  And then it was another four years before she agreed, and quite apprehensively, to try for a family.

“I think I’m going to get off at the next stop for some gas and we can stretch our legs.  It’ll be nighttime soon and I’d rather you guys not wander around in the dark in some backwoods city I don’t know.”

“You worry too much, Peeta,” Katniss chided, taking Peeta’s hand and entwining their fingers.  She brought their conjoined hands up to her lips and placed a kiss against the crest of his knuckles.  That’s why they were perfect together— because they balanced each other out.  When one was overcome with fear and anxiety, the other was always there to level the other one out.

Peeta got off at the next exit and followed the signs to the nearest gas station, which was less than a mile away.

“Don’t go to the Shell, go to SHEETZ,” Katniss pleaded with her husband when she saw the direction he was headed.

“Why?  Shell has better gas.”

“SHEETZ has cleaner bathrooms.  Please baby,” Katniss whined, knowing the use of the pet name, in addition to giving him the wide, puppy-dog-eyes would be enough to melt his hesitation.

“Okay,” he conceded, “Anything for my girls,” he gave Katniss’s hand another squeeze as he stopped at the four-way intersection and then gently accelerated on the gas when he saw the coast was clear.  Ever since their daughter, Prim was born, Peeta drove like an old man instead of a man in his late twenties— precious cargo and all.

“PEETA!!!!!” Katniss screamed when a set of headlights came barreling straight for them.

    “Mr. Mellark?  Mr. Mellark, can you hear me?” Peeta opened his eyes and tried to sit up.  “Mr. Mellark, how many fingers am I holding up?” The uniformed man asked him as he waved his fingers in front of his face and shined a flashlight into his eyes.

“Three.  Where’s my wife?  Where is Prim?” Peeta responded, shoving the medic’s hand out of his face as he attempted to sit up again.  “Where am I?” Peeta demanded, turning his head from side to side, surveying the small space he was in and called for his wife, “Katniss?” But she wasn’t anywhere in sight; as far as he could see, he was alone in the ambulance with these three strangers— medics.

“Sir, please calm down.  You were in an accident.  My name is Pollux and I am a paramedic.  You have sustained some rather severe injuries.  We are rushing you and your family to the nearest hospital.”

Adrenaline flooded Peeta’s veins, his heart accelerated until he was fuming, “WHERE is my wife and my daughter?  Where are they?  Are they okay? Please, you have to tell me,” he demanded, oblivious to the steadily increasing beeping in the background and needing some answers before his anxiety consumed him.

“They were air-lifted from the scene of the accident; we should be arriving at the hospital any moment now.  We’ll know more upon arrival,” Pollux offered sympathetically and craned his neck to his shoulder to speak into the microphone attached to his uniform, “Hey Castor, what’s our ETA?”

Peeta didn’t realize there was already an IV connected into his arm, or that the paramedic injected something into it, which was the reason everything went black.

2 days later:

“Well!  There are those marvelous blue eyes I have been hearing about!  Good morning Mr. Mellark, my name is Dr. Trinket.”

When Peeta opened his eyes, everything was fuzzy at first.  He blinked a few times until his vision slowly adjusted, and this Dr. Trinket came into view.  She was a beautiful doctor, there was no denying that.  Probably in her mid to late thirties with short, curly, blonde hair— so blonde it almost looked pink … and she was in the traditional hospital scrubs you normally see doctors wearing.  

  ‘Seriously, bright pink scrubs?’ Peeta thought, wondering if he could go blind just by looking at her for too long.

“Can you tell me your name and date of birth?” Dr. Trinket asked him, shining a light into his eyes.  “Good, good.  Pupils are equal and reactive.”

Peeta recited his name and birthday for Dr. Trinket, and she nodded, satisfied with his response.  “Do you know where you are?”  Dr. Trinket asked, checking his reflexes.

“Um … a hospital?” Peeta thought that seemed obvious.

“And do you recall the circumstances that brought you here?”

Peeta closed his eyes and tried to pull the memory from his mind, only to come up empty.

“Mr. Mellark, you were in an accident,” Dr. Trinket began filling in the blanks for him, “You suffered a slight concussion in addition to a hairline fracture to your femur.  After assessment upon your arrival to Tribute Center Regional Medical Facilities, you were rushed into surgery to repair your injuries.  You have a splint on your leg and should heal just fine.  I foresee a speedy recovery as long as you stay off your legs.  Do you have any questions for me?”

Flashes came sputtering back, hitting the back of  his eyelids like one of those slow, stop-motion picture films from Dr. Trinket’s words. “M-my w-wife and daughter—” Peeta croaked, his voice still dry and hoarse from days of not using it.

“Nurse, nurse, can we please get Mr. Mellark some form of oral hydration to quench his thirst?” Dr. Trinket pressed the call button on the remote by his bed and spoke into the intercom, “I bet you are just parched, aren’t you Mr. Mellark?” As upbeat and gregarious as the lovely Dr. Trinket appeared to be, he was not fooled by her deflection.

Before he had the opportunity to ask about his family again, a woman with kind eyes entered the room, carrying a styrofoam pitcher of water, a small tower of cups, and a handful of straws.  She poured Peeta a cup of water and offered it to him.

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled at the woman, who returned his smile, and then disappeared from the room just as quickly as she entered.

Peeta took a long sip of water through the straw and wasn’t sure anything had ever tasted so good in his life.  But then he met Dr. Trinket’s eyes and asked the question that was looming over them once again, “My wife?  My daughter?  K-Katniss and Primrose Mellark?”

Dr. Trinket’s face fell, and then she looked at him with so much pity, which only compelled Peeta to immediately jump to conclusions.

“No, no, they can’t be!” He cried, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh, no!  No, no, my apologies Mr. Mellark.  Your wife currently rests in a medically induced coma.  She had some minor swelling on her brain, so the doctors felt it was necessary to allow her body adequate time to heal.  She should be waking at any moment and her prognosis is optimistic!”

Peeta took another sip of water and braced himself for what came next, “And P-Primrose, m-my daughter?” Peeta faltered, afraid of her response.  She was barely two years old; if he and Katniss were injured this badly, what happened to her?  She was so tiny, she was—

“Your daughter’s—”

“Prim,” Peeta insisted.  If his daughter’s condition was as critical as he feared, he would not allow the staff in this hospital to treat her as another ‘number’.  He’d heard of horror stories and patients being neglected because of arrogant doctors.  No, they would call her by her name.

“My apologies; Prim is in the pediatric intensive care unit.  I do not know much about her case, but your daughter’s doctor will stop by shortly with an update on her status.  I shall page him now to inform him that you are finally conscious.  His name is Dr. Abernathy.”

“Okay,” Peeta nodded.

“I must warn you Mr. Mellark, Dr. Abernathy may come off a bit abrasive, his bedside manner needs much work, but—"

“Is he good?  Will he save my baby?” Peeta implored; he could care less about the doctor’s bedside manner, all he cared about was if the man was good at his job.  All he cared about was if he could save his baby girl.

“I may be a bit bias … but yes.  He is the best.  It is a fact that he is a world-renowned critical care pediatric surgeon.  You will not find a more qualified physician in all of Panem.”

“O-okay, that’s good,” Peeta stuttered, feeling more optimistic as Dr. Trinket walked toward the door.

  “Um … Dr. Trinket, if you don’t mind me asking, but why are you biased towards this doctor?”

“He is my husband,” Dr. Trinket answered proudly. “Oh, and please call me Effie, ‘Doctor Trinket’ is my mother … and besides, it makes me sound so old!”

  “Mr. Mellark, I’m Haymitch,” a man with scruffy blonde hair covering his eyes strutted into the room.  He had a white coat just like the other doctors Peeta had seen cruising the hallways, but this man looked far from any doctor he had ever met.  Sure, he had the arrogance the other doctors seemed to have in spades, but he did not share the chiseled and clean-shaven faces he had witnessed on some of the other medical staff.  He looked up, and above the breast pocket of this man’s jacket, the name, Dr. H. Abernathy, was inscribed in elegant script onto his coat.

So, this was Dr. Abernathy, Peeta thought.  “It’s— it’s Peeta.  Y-you have news about my daughter?”

“Yes, Primrose Ellis Mellark, twenty-six-month female,” Haymitch began, flipping through his notes.  Then he dragged a chair across the room, its legs scraping against the floor, finally planting it next to Peeta’s bed before he took a seat in it— backwards.  Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch put his notes away and crossed his arms over the back of the chair to look Peeta in the eye.

Yes, this was unlike any doctor I’ve ever come across before, Peeta thought to himself, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Mr. Mellark, Peeta, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, yer little girl is in pretty bad shape.  Thankfully, she was properly strapped in the car seat, and rear-facing at that— which is what will probably save her life.  Most parents don’t follow the PAP guidelines—”

  “I’m sorry, what is PAP?”

  “Oh, my bad— I mean … sorry.  It’s the Panem Academy of Pediatrics— you know, the guidelines— uh, the riff-raff of all the do’s and don'ts pertaining to childcare and whatnot.  Anyhow, most parents turn their kids around before it’s time so they can see them … but uh— yeah— she’s beat up pretty bad, we’ve removed all the shards of glass from her skin and stitched up all the residual lacerations.” Peeta cringed at the doctor’s extensive description of his daughter.  “She suffered some internal damage to her organs—”

“When c-can I see her?” Peeta stammered, interrupting the doctor and fighting back tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Soon.  I’ll have someone page your nurse once she’s stabilized, and then we’ll get someone to bring ya up there.  Ya got any other questions?” Haymitch asked Peeta, squirming to get out of the chair.

“Has … has anyone told Katniss— my wife?”  Peeta warily asked the doctor.  Part of him was hoping that Haymitch had already told her, while deep inside he knew it had to be him to deliver this crushing blow.

“No, not yet.  I have to round on a few patients and then I’ll be stoppin’ by her room.”

Peeta gulped, “Would it—”

“Sure kid, it’s all yours.  It’ll save me the trouble of havin’ to do it,“ Haymitch gruffed.

Geez, Dr. Trinket wasn’t kidding about his bedside manner, Peeta silently ruminated, all the while, wondering how in the world those two were married.

  “Katniss? Katniss, baby, can you hear me?” One of the nurses hunted down a wheelchair and rolled Peeta into Katniss’s room.  The sight of her broke his heart.  She was lying there, unconscious and connected to an assortment of tubes and wires.  As he sat by Katniss’s side, he found comfort in the steady beep, beep of her heart monitor, which he hoped was a good sign.  He reached for her hand, holding it in his own, and closed his eyes, silently willing her to wake up.

I … I can’t do this alone; please Katniss, please wake up, with a quivering lip, he silently pleaded to her.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” Peeta looked up and asked the nurse.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mellark, but it isn’t an exact science.  Patients can wake up anywhere between a few hours, to a few days once they’re weaned off the medication.”  Katniss’ nurse, Annie informed him with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Although Peeta was frustrated, he knew it wasn’t Annie’s fault and forced a smile to his lips.

Peeta wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he first arrived in Katniss’s room.  He had already twice refused to return to his own room; he didn’t care about himself.  All they wanted him to do in his room was rest, and he was perfectly capable of doing that from the comfort of his wife’s room, if not better.  If he went back to his room all he would do is worry; at least in Katniss’s room, which was just across the hall, he could attempt getting a little rest.

“Mr. Mellark?” Annie slowly crept into the room.  Peeta had fallen asleep in the chair next to Katniss’s bed, the cramp in his neck proof of the poor position he was in.

He jerked up when he heard Annie’s voice. “I know you don’t want to leave her side, but Doctor— I mean Haymitch just called and said we could bring you up to see your daughter.  Would you like to—”

Peeta jolted up from his chair, forgetting about the injury to his leg for a moment until the pain shot up his spine.

“Oh no, no, no, I will get your wheelchair and take you up there.  You wouldn’t make it to the elevators,” Annie smiled.

Annie rolled his wheelchair in from outside the room and wheeled Peeta to the PICU floor.

“So, does everyone call Dr. Abernathy by his first name?” Peeta tried to fill the uncomfortable silence with small talk.

Annie chuckled from behind him. “Yeah.  He and Dr. Trinket— Effie; they don’t like formalities.  They claim it helps eliminate the doctor/patient barrier; something about trust and bonding.” Peeta nodded and thought, ‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

“Okay, I guess … I can see that.  Have you worked here long?  Do you know … is he a good doctor?” Peeta hoped he wasn’t being too intrusive, he just needed to know if Haymitch was as qualified to care for his daughter as Effie claimed.

“Haymitch?  Oh, yes … he’s the best.  If it were my son lying in a hospital bed— no matter where in the world I was, I would want Haymitch as his doctor.  Heck, I would gladly pay him whatever he wanted and have him flown to whatever corner of the world I was in.”

“Wow, that’s … impressive.  So, you have a son?”

“Yes, Nick is four years old,” Annie stopped and flipped her name badge over, stretching it out in front of Peeta’s line of sight to reveal a picture of a little boy with the greenest eyes, and wavy, sun kissed golden-blonde hair.

“He’s adorable … he’s going to be a heartbreaker when he’s older,” Peeta smiled, his heart aching to hold his own daughter.

“Thank you.  His name is Finnick— well, Finnick Junior, after his father, but we just call him Nick.  Oh, look!  We’re here!”

Annie wheeled him into the PICU and spoke with one of the nurses who helped him to the “Scrub Room.”  ‘Johanna’ first demonstrated the process of “scrubbing down,” which meant vigorously washing your hands with a medical scrub brush that contained a special, hospital-grade antiseptic soap.  When it was his turn, Peeta “scrubbed” for exactly three minutes while Johanna stood over him, observing with her stopwatch in hand throughout the entire process.  On the one hand, it made him feel self-conscious, but on the other hand, he was glad the staff was this precise.  Then she checked his temperature, because, under no circumstances was anyone permitted to enter the unit with a temperature above 100.3.  The last step was donning a sterile gown, gloves, and a facial mask before finally being allowed to see his daughter.

  “So, if someone leaves and comes right back just a few minutes later, they have to do this all over again?” Peeta asked Johanna.

  “Every single time—no exceptions.  Hospital policy—or, well, Haymitch’s policy,” Johanna chuckled.

Prim looked so tiny in the incubator she was lying in, it reminded him of the ones you see premature babies in.  It brought back memories of the day Katniss gave birth to their daughter, Peeta, silently thanking the heavens that his and Katniss’s newborn baby was full-term and healthy.  He just hoped luck was on their side this time, too.

Peeta’s entire body quivered with trepidation when his eyes landed on his daughter.  Prim was covered in stitches— they stretched across her entire body; on her arms, legs, her chest, and covered a majority of her face and head.  It looked like they even had to shave a portion of her hair to place some of the stitches.  She had IVs inserted in both her arms, a tube down her throat, and a tiny nasal cannula blowing oxygen into her nostrils.  Peeta’s eyes began to sting from the sight of his beautiful Primrose, and the closer he inched toward her, the harder his eyes stung.  Until finally, the dam broke, and the tears began pouring from his eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs escaping his entire body.

“Oh, Primmie baby, I am so sorry.  Daddy is so sorry; do you hear me?” Peeta cried to his little girl.

“Is she … will she make it?  Do you think— can she— will she survive this?” Peeta looked up, meeting the nurse’s eyes, and wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“I honestly cannot give you a definitive answer Mr. Mellark.  These little ones tend to have a mind of their own.  Right now, it’s kind of touch and go.  I would say that if she makes it through the night, then she’s got a standing chance.  But I’m going to tell you something, I’ve seen babies much worse than your daughter bounce right back, but— on the flip side, I’ve seen others with barely any injuries—” Her words trailed off, hesitant to complete her sentence, but Peeta knew what she meant.

They didn’t make it.  Peeta sucked in a breath, mustering all the courage he had to be strong for his daughter.  What would he do if Prim di— if she … he couldn’t even think the word without his chest feeling as if thousand-pound bricks were smothering him.

“Why is that? What makes the difference?” He forced the words out.  If Prim was to survive this, he needed to know.

“I think … Now, this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it depends on how hard they’re willing to fight.  Their will, their drive to live.  Right now, I would say, and perhaps this does nothing to ease your mind, but … hope and pray.  As a veteran PICU nurse, I truly believe in the power of prayer.  Talk to your daughter and let her know that you are waiting for her; that you are counting on her to survive this.” Peeta nodded, understanding what the nurse meant.  “Give that beautiful little girl something to fight for,” Prim’s nurse finished with a kind smile.

“What was your name again?  I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it, and how long will you be Prim’s nurse?”

“My name is Portia Rose, and I’ll be here all night,” the kind nurse replied, with an equally as kind smile.  Peeta wondered if it was fate that brought them together.  His daughter, named after Katniss’s lost sister, and this ‘Portia Rose,’ their names having an uncanny similarity.

  “Peeta, Peeta what happened?” Katniss croaked, knowing something was wrong the moment her eyes opened and her husband’s tear-streaked face came into focus.

“Katniss, there was an accident.  What is the last thing you remember?”

“I remember, we were going to the gas station … you wanted to stop before it got dark.  We … we were on our way to see Mom … and then … and then … Peeta, what happened?  Where is Prim?” Katniss asked, pushing herself up with her hands to straighten her position in the bed.

Water pooled in Peeta’s eyes and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of tears.  He had to be strong for Katniss, he couldn’t show weakness, not yet.  Not now. 

  Peeta poured Katniss a cup of water and handed it to her. “Here sweetie, I bet you’re thirsty.”

Katniss took the cup and pulled the water into her mouth, “Peeta, you’re scaring me.  W-what happened?”

“Katniss, we were in an accident; w-we were hit head-on by a drunk driver.”

Katniss felt the heat spread through her face, and then slowly, it radiated to the tips of her fingers and toes.  “And Prim?” She asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“She’s okay for right now.  The doctors are taking really good care of her.”

“Okay, that’s good.  That’s really good,” Katniss smiled.  Peeta could see the tears welling up in her eyes and knew she was biting down on the inside of her cheek to quell her tears as she nodded.  He instantly knew that something wasn’t right; this was the opposite of how Katniss should have reacted.  His Katniss would be screaming, throwing a fit— demanding to get out of the hospital bed, adamant to see her daughter.  But this was more like … like denial.  He saw this once before … when her father died.  Granted, that was years and years ago when they were barely teenagers.

Peeta observed Katniss for a few hours, occasionally leaving to check on his daughter.  He knew the staff in the PICU were taking exceptional care of his daughter, and something told him his wife needed him more.  After his most recent visit to Prim in the PICU, he made sure that Portia knew how to reach him in case … in case she needed him.

When Katniss was given “out of bed” privileges, she walked around the room, cheerful and full of smiles as she chatted jubilantly with her mother on the phone.  She acted as if their daughter’s life wasn’t hanging in the balance just a few floors above them.

“Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow,” Katniss informed Peeta after placing her phone on the bedside table.

Concerned for his wife’s emotional stability, Peeta spoke with one of Katniss’ nurses to find out when he could take her to their daughter.

“I don’t see why it should be a problem, she does seem to be basking in the river of ‘De Nile’,” Dr. Cinna noted, trying to lighten the mood.  “Perhaps seeing Primrose with her own eyes will open her mind to the truth,” Peeta smiled, shaking Dr. Cinna’s hand; he was the first one to refer to their daughter by her name unprompted, and Prim wasn’t even his patient.  It was at this time that Peeta decided that he liked Dr. Cinna— that he was perhaps his favorite doctor as of yet.  Dr. Cinna provided Peeta with a wheelchair for Katniss, after first making sure Peeta’s legs were strong enough to haul her to the elevator.

“Come on Katniss, let’s go see our girl,” Peeta suggested, rolling the wheelchair up to Katniss’ bedside.

“Okay, sure.  Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow.”

“That’s good Katniss, I’m glad,” Peeta tried to feign enthusiasm.  He frowned, wondering if she realized she just told him this only minutes ago.

Peeta wheeled his wife to the elevators and then pushed the “12” button that would deliver them to the PICU unit.  He followed the arrows and pressed the button on the intercom, waiting patiently for someone to answer them.  Johanna immediately recognized him, and took them through the same procedure from earlier of scrubbing down, a temperature check, and donning the sterile gown, gloves, and mask before Johanna led them to their daughter.

“Peeta, what— what are we doing here?  I thought you were taking me to Prim?” Katniss asked, all traces of joy disintegrating as she was wheeled to Prim’s bedside.

“Katniss, honey— this is—”

“Oh, baby!  Prim, baby, oh my God, what, how—” Katniss’ eyes filled with tears as she craned her neck up to meet Peeta’s eyes.

“No, no.  NO!” Katniss screamed, standing up from her wheelchair, glaring daggers at Peeta.  “NO, this is NOT happening!”  Katniss shrieked, bolting from the room.  Peeta did not follow her, he knew she needed time.  The wheelchair was only precautionary, Katniss’s main injury was the concussion, which had healed during her medically induced coma.

He pulled a chair up to his daughter’s bedside, stuck his gloved hand inside the isolette and began to stroke her tiny hand.  He needed her to know he was here for her and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet baby girl.  My beautiful, beautiful, Primrose; Mommy, and Daddy are here for you and we’re not going anywhere, do you hear me?  Mommy is just scared right now, and she will be back really soon.  Oh, Primmie— we love you so, so much and we need you to get better.  Oh, Prim; I know you probably don’t know this, or understand it, but you are the light of our lives.  You have to get better, okay?  Please fight, Primrose; you have to fight.  I don’t think Mommy would survive if we lost you, I don’t know if I would survive.  I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on such a little girl, but … but—” Peeta closed his eyes, held his head down, and did something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. 

He prayed.

“If there is anyone out there who can hear me, anyone at all, I—” Peeta began, pleading with the powers that be as he sniffled, wiping his eyes with his free arm.  “Please save my girl, she is my world, my everything.  And— and my wife— Katniss needs her Primrose.  I’ll do anything; if it’s a life you want— or need, take mine instead.  Prim is just a baby; she hasn’t had time to live yet.  She still needs her first day in kindergarten, her first best friend—a first boyfriend and a first heartbreak.  I’ve lived, I’ve had all those things and more.  I’ve lived a happy life, but please, just please, don’t take my girl.”

“Prim …” Peeta began after a moment, hoping to reach out to the sister Katniss lost so many years ago, “if you’re out there, and you can hear me, please … please look over our girl.  Please, don’t … you can’t take her, it’s not her time,” Peeta sniffed again, his head perking up from the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Mr. Mellark?” It was Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch, looking no worse for the wear.

“Hi, Dr. Aber—”

“Haymitch.  Call me Haymitch.”

Peeta nodded and met the man’s eyes, “Peeta.”

“Peeta, we’ve done everything we can for your girl, now it’s up to her.”

“What does that mean?” Peeta asked with a befuddled raise of his brow.

“It means that medically speaking, there is nothing more I can do for your girl.  Now, it’s up to her, whether or not she’s willing to fight.  If she gains consciousness before the night’s over, I am optimistic that, in time, she’ll make a full recovery.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Peeta asked, trembling with fear as he awaited the doctor’s answer.

“Then it’s not likely she’ll wake up at all, and then … we’ll discuss extraordinary measures.  But let’s not cross that bridge until we get to it.  In my experience, kids will fight to live if they have somethin’ ta fight for.”

“Thank you, Dr.— Haymitch.  I … I need to find my wife— what are visiting hours?”

“I’ve cleared it with the nurses; you and your wife can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled and shook Haymitch’s hand, eager to find Katniss.  As he made his exit from the PICU, he noticed Haymitch taking the seat next to his daughter and cleared his throat.  Peeta slowed his pace, straining to hear what the doc had to say.

Haymitch cleared  his throat once more and began to speak in a soft and gentle voice that  Peeta almost didn’t recognize from the hardened doctor.  But it was— without a doubt, him.  “Listen, sweetheart, I know you don’t know me and all, but my name’s Haymitch and I’m your doctor.  I know you’re little and all and you probably don’t understand how the world works, so, I’m gonna tell ya.  You see, doctors give orders and patients are s’pposed ta listen.  I’m the doctor, you’re the patient, got it?  Alright, well now that that’s settled, I’m ordering you to stay alive, alright kid?  That’s all you gotta do; stay alive.  I’ll do the rest.”

With that, Peeta went on a quest for his wife, knowing his daughter was in good hands.

  After Peeta wheeled Katniss to their daughter’s bed, it all hit Katniss like a ton of bricks.  That was her daughter lying in that miniature hospital bed.  Her Primrose.  She had already lost one Primrose; she wouldn’t survive losing another— she just wouldn’t.  Unable to face the truth, she ran from the room and took the elevators to the top floor.  Once she exited the elevator, she went to the nearest door, which led to a stairway.  She took the steps two at a time and passed through another door that opened up to the roof.

Katniss ran to the edge, leaning against the banister; not to jump, but just to look out into the sky.

For the first hour, she cried.  She cried and cried, trying her best to convince herself that wasn’t her Prim lying in that bed, but someone else’s baby.  It couldn’t be her daughter, it just couldn’t.  The universe couldn’t be that cruel, right?  But deep down, she knew it was.  And then, she was consumed with guilt—for wishing that fate upon someone else’s child.

During the following hour, she did something she hadn’t done since she was small, since her own parents forced her to do it.  She didn’t necessarily believe there wasn’t a God exactly, but she didn’t really believe there was one either.  But what if there was?  Would he still listen to her after all the years of silence?

Deciding it was worth the risk, on the off chance there was some kind of higher power out there, she begged, she pleaded for them to save her little girl.  And then, she resorted to begging, dropping to her knees as she bargained her life away.  She didn’t know that at the same exact time, her husband was doing precisely— the same exact thing.  She was on her knees sobbing when she heard the door whoosh open, her husband’s beautiful blue eyes piercing into her own grey ones.

“Katniss, are you okay?” Peeta asked her, worry glazing over him from the sight of her on her knees.

She wanted his comfort, needed it even.  But then, she was angry at him.  No, not angry, but furious, enraged.  This was all his fault, after all.

“Go away!” She shouted at him, seething with rage.

“Katniss, what?” Peeta shrunk back, hurt by her rejection.

“This is all your fault Peeta.  If you hadn’t— YOU’RE the one who wanted kids, not me.  If YOU hadn’t convinced me to have kids, this wouldn’t be happening.  We wouldn’t be losing her.” Katniss stood up and inched herself closer to Peeta, sending him a cold, icy, glare.

“You don’t mean that Katniss,” Peeta told her, holding his stance with pain-filled eyes.  He knew deep down that she was just hurt and needed to channel her frustrations elsewhere.  Lashing out at him was the easiest, and fastest way to achieve that goal.

The closer Katniss got to Peeta, the angrier she became.  The tears began streaming down her face until she could no longer hold back the uncontrollable sobs.  She began hitting and pounding her fist against his chest, she was so angry.  But Peeta didn’t budge.  He didn’t try and stop her, he just stood there, taking each hit and allowing her to use him as her own personal punching bag.  He knew it wasn’t actually him she was angry at, she just needed somewhere to divert her anger.

Peeta pulled Katniss into his arms and within seconds she ceased pounding his chest.  He held her, crying his own silent tears while Katniss sobbed in his arms.  Once the tears subsided, Katniss looked up to see the pained expression on her husband’s face, in addition to the tears streaking his cheeks and she felt … guilty.

“I’m sorry Peeta, I’m so sorry.  Oh, Peeta, I— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Shhh, sshhh.  I know, I know,” Peeta whispered into her ear, stroking circles against her back as he tried to comfort her.

“I can’t lose her Peeta, I— I won’t survive if I lose her.”

“I know Katniss, I know.  Me too.  But … but I won’t survive if I lose you.  So, let’s pull ourselves together, go to our baby girl and give her something to fight for,” Katniss sniffled and nodded her head.  Together, they walked back to the PICU to be with their daughter.

They re-entered the PICU and headed straight for Prim, only to see a swarm of nurses huddled in a circle; in what looked like them holding vigil at their daughter’s bedside.  One look on their faces and Katniss and Peeta knew something was wrong— devastatingly so.

“I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, her vitals are steadily declining.  It won’t be much longer now; would you like to hold her before— before—”

“I … I wasted so much time,” Katniss cried, nodding as the tears streamed down her face.  One of the nurses pulled up a rocking chair for one of the parents to sit in.  Peeta was adamant that Katniss hold her first— just in case.

They opened the tiny incubator and placed Prim in Katniss’s arms, draping a blanket over them while another nurse made a call to Haymitch.

“Oh, baby girl, momma loves you so much.  Mommy and Daddy love you so, so much sweet girl.” Katniss hummed through her tears.  “You are so special Prim, so, so very special, my sweet, sweet girl.  You are so special and so loved and …” Katniss sobbed through her tears, placing kiss after kiss to her little girl’s forehead.  Peeta squatted next to Katniss and with one hand, he linked their fingers, and with the other hand, he stroked his little girl’s foot.  The floodgates were open— he didn’t think he could cry any harder until he heard Katniss’s beautiful voice singing the lullaby to their daughter.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head and close your eyes,

And when they open, the sun will rise;

Peeta’s heart plummeted in his chest as he heard Prim’s heart monitor “flat line.”  As difficult as it was with the splint on his leg, he inched closer to his wife and daughter as they both cried and overwhelmed Prim with kisses.  They showered her with as much love as they could muster, telling her how much they loved her.  They told her how special she was and how they would never forget her.  As badly as it hurt Peeta to say the words, he finally told his baby girl that it was okay for her to go.  The last thing he wanted in this world was for her to suffer.

The nurse reached up to silence the heart monitor when, suddenly, the steady beeping from the machine resumed all on its own.

“What the—” the nurse exclaimed just as Haymitch burst through the door.

“I thought you said code red?” Haymitch growled, seeing the normal heart rhythm on the monitor.

“She—she flatlined, and then— she just— came back,” Portia stuttered in complete bewilderment.

“Little slugger had something worth fighting for, what’d I tell ya?” Haymitch chuckled, looking at the teary-eyed parents.

One Year Later:

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you …”  Katniss and Peeta sat on either side of their daughter on her third birthday, slightly less than a year after the devastating car accident that nearly took her life. 

  “That is one happy little girl,” Effie looked up and smiled at her husband.  “Thanks to you,” she added in a whisper.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Haymitch pretended like he didn’t care, but Effie knew—she always knew; he cared too much.

  “What did you wish for, sweet girl?” Katniss asked her daughter after she blew her candles out.

  “A baby brudder,” Prim said, her face smeared with chocolate frosting and a mouthful of chocolate cake.

  Simultaneously, Katniss and Peeta’s eyes locked and Katniss inadvertently reached up to palm her belly.

  “Should we?” Katniss mouthed to her husband who gave her a slight nod.

  “You’re going to be a big sister Prim, but not for a few more months,” Peeta informed their daughter, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Yay!  I like wishes, Mommy!” Prim squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck.

[mdittyz123]

Motley Crue/The Dirt Fics

Nikki Sixx

-Animal in Me

Aria is a journalist for Rolling Stone magazine. She’s followed and hung out with countless bands. But what happens when she follows Motley Crue for one month for her latest piece? #series #ongoing #complicated relationship #ozzy osbourne

-Rebel Love Song

Nikki and Corey have been friends since they were kids. Back than Nikki Sixx was just simply Frankie to Corey. He was just the boy next door with a troubled past and a messed up present and future unknown. Corey was just the ideal girl next door, a girl Nikki couldn’t believe would actually give him the time of day. Things changed when Nikki took off without a goodbye or even a note. It would be years later before the two would be reunited. And when they are the girl next door isn’t exactly the girl next door anymore. Things happened and she’s changed. But will she still be the perfect girl in Nikki’s eyes or will she just be another girl in the crowd? #series #ongoing #childhood friends #friends to lovers

*-Afraid  Summary: You meet Sikki Nixx, but then you meet Nikki Sixx and your world is forever altered. #dad!nikki #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby #godfather!tommy #meet in rehab 

-Best Friends  Summary: Omg colson and Dougie getting close to Nikki’s teen daughter (in a big brother way) #the dirt cast #the dirt movie filming #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #brothers in all but blood #brother figure!douglas #brother figure!mgk/colson baker #protective

-Twins  Summary: Can I request a lil something that Nikki is dating a girl but she’s an identical twin and Nikki can never tell them apart? (Maybe a lil smut;) #twin!reader #messing with nikki #headcanon

-Support  Summary: can you do a Headcanon about Nikki’s daughter having a baby? #single mom!reader #grandpa!nikki #daughter!reader #baby #grandaby #headcanon

-Grounded  Summary: Headcanon for being Nikki’s teenage daughter today? & Headcanons for Nikki’s teen daughter being super close to “auntie Brit” and “Uncle Tom”?? #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #uncle!tommy #headcanon

-Tommy's Sister  Summary: Tommy’s sister getting with Nikki. #brother!tommy #sister!reader

-You.  Prompt:  “you’ve shown me what love can feel like.” 

-I'll Kick His Ass  When Izzy Stradlin assaults Vince Neil's wife Sharise, things heat up between the Crue and Guns N' Roses, especially since the reader is Axl Rose's ex girlfriend #brother!vince #sister!reader #guns n roses #violence against females from guns n roses #memories #protective!nikki #protective!vince #the dirt movie filming

*-Shellshock  Request:  1)Hey I saw you did a Nikki imagine that was based on a queen song ,, I was wondering if I could request that the reader is related to one of the members of queen and Nikki finds out and gets star struck 😂 sorry this is a weird request lol. 2)May I request a oneshot where reader is dating Nikki Sixx and she is best friends with Queen, especially Freddie, one day Queen makes a suprise visit? I am curious about the reactions of Motley Crue. I am rambling at this point but I would be really happy if you can write something like this🧡 #queen #crossover #queen x reader platonic #reader is queen's friend and introduces them to motley crue

-Being Ozzy Osbourne’s Daughter and Dating Nikki Sixx (Headcanon)  #headcanon # dad!ozzy #daughter!reader #secret relationship

-Nikki Meets His Child Who Was Born During The Tour  #headcanon #dad!nikki #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby

-The Love of a Brother  Description: Nikki is your older brother and he comforts you when the family past comes back to haunt you #brother!niki #sister!reader

-Protective  Can I request an imagine please with Nikki Sixx?? (been loving the dirt lately lol) i don’t a have personal preference on what it should be on. Maybe where you get hit on at a show and Nikki isn’t very happy and calls the dude out? #protective!nikki

-Headcanon for Being Nikki Sixx's Daughter  #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader

Tommy Lee

-Tommy Lee Dating Someone Who Loves Cats (Headcanon)  #headcanon

-Brother's Best Friend  Summary: Vince is your brother and he forces you to go to one of his shows. You catch Tommy’s eye and he offers to take you home when you start begging Vince to let you leave. You end up hanging with Tommy and end up liking him much more than just the drummer for your brother’s band. #brother!vince #sister!reader

-Drummer  #series #tommy lee x reader #brother!mick #sister!reader #marriage #jealosy 

-Little Drummer Boy  Description: “ I’d love to read a Dad!Tommy taking his and Reader’s kid shopping for their first little drum kit.” #dad!tommy #mom!reader #son #little drummer

-No More Secrets  Request:  can you do a fic where the reader is nikki’s sister and falls in love with tommy? nikki gets upset but everything works out in the end? thanks ✨ #brother!nikki #sister!reader #secret relationship  

-Daddy's Girl  Description: You and Tommy have a 3 year old, but you’re not together. The baby takes a liking to your new boyfriend and Tommy is jealous/hurt because he feels like he misses out on his daughter’s life. #Part 1 of 2 #dad!tommy #mom!reader#child  #angst with a happy ending 

-Headcannons for being Tommy's daughter?  #headcanon #dad!tommy #daughter!reader

-My Brother's in the Band  Summary: Your brother finds you in a compromising position with one of his bandmates #brother!mick #sister!reader

-Get a Room  You and tommy are best friends and you flirt constantly and everyone’s trying to get you two together lmao #series #part 1 of 6 #best friends to lovers  

-The No Fun Tour  SUMMARY // You’ve been working as a roadie for Motley Crue for a number of years because of your interest in the music business and family connections with Doc.  The boys are touring with Ozzy and things are looking promising for them, but if they mess up one more hotel room they’re in big trouble with Elektra Records. Doc has assigned you to watch Tommy for the night, and while the boys are like second family to you, you realize you may actually have more feelings for the drummer than you originally thought. #series #part 1 of 17 #roadie!reader #reader is motley crue's assistant #secret relationship

Vince Neil

-My Kinda Lover  song inspiration: My Kinda Lover by Billy Squier #fluff

-Newlyweds No More  #brother!mick #sister!reader #wedding night #cheating #car accident #agnst 

-Hold On Your Life  Reader is pregnant with Vince’s baby and they’ve been together for a couple of years and Vince is off on tour while she’s staying home and he accidentally overdoses and when he wakes up he’s just worried about his girl and his baby

-Dancer  Summary: You never thought that you would meet the love of your life in the strip club you worked at. #stripper!reader #single mom!reader #step dad!vince #child

-Vince Imagine                                                                                             #vince neil x reader

-The End or the Beginning  Could you please do a imagine where the reader is Razzle’s sister and has a friends with benefits relationship with Vince. The night of the car accident she was in the car with them and survived alongside Vince which leads them to get closer and end up admitting they have feelings for one another? #brother!razzle #sister!reader #angst #car accident 

-Drunk Confessions  Request: Your Tommy Lee’s sister and Vince falls in love with you #brother!tommy #sister!reader

-Me and You Plus Two  Description: You and Vince have twins #dad!vince #mom!reader #birth #twins #babies 

-A Girl  Summary: When Vince finds out he’s going to be having a little girl he doubts his ability to raise a young woman into adulthood. #dad!vince #mom!reader #pregnancy 

-Being Vince Neil’s Identical Twin Brother (Headcanon)  #headcanon #twin!vince

-Persephone  Description: Reader is a famous singer and has an innocent image but when she turns 18 the label wants to up her sex appeal so her and Vince’s record label have them fake date—the media nicknames them as Hollywood’s Hades and Persephone. #headcanon #singer!reader #fake relationship #becomes real

-Try                                                                                                       Description: Reader is Tommy’s sister and she’s best friends with Mick and falls for Vince and she’s really obvious about it but only Mick sees it and teases her about it #brother!tommy #sister!reader #best friend!mick 

-One Chance  Vince falling for a girl and her not realizing it, this one is for you! #cousin!mick #cousin!reader #oblivious!reader

-Lights  SUMMARY: A road trip for more booze doesn’t end well with a drunk Vince driving and Razzle and Y/N tagging along. #character death #car accident 

-Headcanon for Being Vince's daughter after Skylar  #headcanon #dad!vince #daughter!reader

*-Borrowing  #brother!tommy #sister!reader #continue the family name

-My Kinda Lover  Vince being shy around a girl, getting nervous and messing up a show when she’s there #before motley crue was a band

Mics.

-Trouble Summary: I’d like to request a Nikki Sixx, where the reader is a good friend of him, and just as crazy and they party a lot and she always comes up with stupid ideas such as throwing a tv out of the window, or lighting up mick’s room and they are all just crazy and do a lot of crazy and stupid things? So she is kind of a part of the Terror Twins? #terror twins plus one

-Preference #12 - Motley Meets The Baby  #mick mars x reader #dad!mick #mom!reader #nikki sixx x reader #dad!nikki #mom!reader #tommy lee x reader #dad!tommy #mom!reader #vince neil x reader #dad!vince #mom!reader #new baby

Douglas Booth

-Head-canons for Nikki’s daughter meeting Douglas Booth or MGK and being like O_O shit he’s hot 😂  #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming

-Makeup Artist  Summary: Omg Nikki’s teen daughter helping with Dougie’s makeup for the movie #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #makeup artist!reader #the dirt movie filming

-Having a Baby with Douglas Booth (Headcanon)                           #headcanon #dad!douglas #mom!rader #pregnancy #baby

-It Just Sort of Happened (Douglas Booth Imagine)  #the dirt movie filming #dad!tommy #daughter!reader

Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker 

-Head-canons for Nikki’s daughter meeting Douglas Booth or MGK and being like O_O shit he’s hot 😂  #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming

-Being Pete Davidson’s Sister and Dating Machine Gun Kelly (Headcanon) #headcanon #brother!pete #sister!reader

-Having a Baby with Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker (Headcanon)  #part 1 of 2 #headcanon #dad!mgk/colson #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby

-Being Roger Taylor’s Daughter and Dating Machine Gun Kelly (Headcanon)  #headcanon #queen #crossover #dad!roger taylor #daughter!reader #drummer!reader

Daniel Webber

-Winning  Summary: Can we have more on Nikki’s daughter and Daniel’s relationship? #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming 

-On Set  Summary: Being Nikki’s oldest daughter and dating Daniel Webber from the Dirt. While they’re filming but you come to see Nikki, Tommy, and when Mick and Vince was on set helping. #headcanon #the dirt movie filming #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #secret relationship

[blackevermore]

x My (Actual) Vlad Headcanons

[ I love shit posting random things about Vlad, but I thought I’ll actually post my interpretation of Vlad and share it with yall ]

x So right off the bat my Vlad is kinda like a AU where (as we all agree PP didn’t happen and Vlad didn’t get water down to a basic bitch) Vlad gets a redem arc and Dani is brought back and they work out their relationship where he is now her father figure. Danny and he have a truce and Vlad becomes his mentor (and uncle/dad). He is no longer the mayor but continues to live in Amity. 

x Demisexual Demiromantic, i mean come on....20+ years of pining over the same woman?! Make sense.

x Bara Vlad....that's it. Man has big ol’biddies

x Vlad has full sleeve tattoos of ghost related things (because i read a fic with them and I have to have it) but like no one will ever believe that thee Vlad Masters would ever have tattoos that he got done in the Ghost Zone.... That also glow when he transforms (the lighting is active)

The Russian Cyrillic (I hope to god that’s right) says ghost/specter

The gave at the bottom with the orthodox cross says the year he was born ‘60 Masters. This is like a nod to the fact he “died".

Red eyes are a nod to Plasmius

He has another cross on his back in the middle of his shoulders

x Russian and German descent, first generation American, only child. Comes from old money that kept getting lost or stolen. Great relationship with parents, birth mother died when he was 10, first step mother died when he was 19. 

x Triple Major graduate in engineering, business, and supernatural studies in biology. Wasn’t able to graduate with his class due to accident, when he did graduate he didn’t walk across the stage. 

x Loves to garden and always enters the community garden completion. He plays fair and is such a sore loser. He has set his neighbors flowers on fire before. 

x Is the hot dad at every single fucking PTA meeting and always brings sweets. His favorite sweet is strawberry shortcake but he is very bias on who makes it. Has made a few moms cry.

x Has vampire and cat like behaviors due to his transformation that bleed over into his human form. His iris will change red and glow without him knowing. He lies and tells the the ignorant he has albinism since he knows not many people are aware albinos don't actually have red eyes.  

x Mentally this man is 45, physically his man is still 23 but thank god for stress, the lack of sleep, and facial hair for making him seem more in his 30s. Lets hope he never figures out what sleep is because someone will catch on that he looks really....young. Him now being half ghost has slowed down his age so much that he isn’t really sure how long he will live but he knows that it might be until the turn of the century.

x Treats Plasmius as his own person and always speaks in third person when talking about him. I really liked the headcanon I saw of Vlad not being able to accept that him and Plasmius are the same person and he threats it like an ego. Which ends up with Vlad making a dup of Plasmius to help him out around the place and he fucking talks to himself and answers. (Has been told his ego is “speaking” when he gets dramatic). Like how do you get in a fight with yourself sir?!?

x Was allergic to bananas and green tea.

x Loves nature hates everything that comes with it when being outside too long. But he will strongly uphold the scout honor like the man child he is.

x He is a organized hoarder and will give you a 12 page essay on why he hasn’t thrown out something yet.

x Owns three motorcycles, one for traveling, two for style, he owns three spot cars, a Rossie, and of course the family car which is a SUV. (yes I promise he can drive this time)

x Due to him willing to change for the better he becomes a lot dorker like he was in college.

[I’ll add more later]

[cherrysung]

pairing: soulmate!jaemin x reader

genre: guardian angel au / fluff / slight angst

warnings: language, sad themes, character death (car crash), suggestive (not explicit, I suck at smut), my shitty writing (I’m so sorry)

summary: the glimmering boy from the accident would often visit you in the depths of your dreams with eager eyes, your imagination the only place where he could allow you to see him. that is, until you finally became an adult.

word count: 10.2k

note: this is my first time writing a long fic, it might seem rushed or confusing but I’m sure I’ll improve with time, so feedback will be greatly appreciated. anyways, I truly hope you enjoy the story from the bottom of my heart! also, thank you @glossyjaems for hyping me up on this!

cherrysung’s navigation

The rain poured violently, hitting the car windows in near agression as you mindlessly watched the drops race down, ‘till they eventually disappeared from your view. The roads were hugely engulfed in a sea of haze, and it was complicated to decipher the direction in which the car was heading towards, amidst all the fog surrounding. You remember a gentle song playing quietly from the radio, and if it weren’t for the furious banging of the weather, you’d be fast asleep. Asleep, in the warm arms of your mother, who held you so dearly. No one expected what was to come. The anxious stirring from your father, the deafening crash, the cries of the woman who now held you tightly with fear, or the pitch black darkness that consumed everybody in an instant.

Four years, you were only four years when you lost your entire family; and you were supposed to leave with them. Softly, the song kept playing, when you caught a gleaming silhouette in the distance. Just like that, consciousness slipped away from you.

Years went by quickly, time left but memories stayed. The helpless screams of your father and your mother’s tears that fell onto your chubby cheeks; you remember them vividly. You thought memories were supposed to be cherished, but yours only managed to haunt you every progressing day of your life. A life that was meant to be taken away from you, a life that was meant to be spent with your loved ones. You lost one option for the price of the other and you weren’t sure what was worse, there was no way an answer from something as intricate as existence could be obtained. All you knew was the shimmering light before blackness tugged at your vision. Tall, lean and majestic; you wished it would’ve been one of the few memories that did stay, but it seemed like it was fading away more and more as the clock ticked by.

Attached to several tubes and beeping machines, you had woken up disoriented that day, completely unaware of your surroundings. So confused, you couldn’t even process or fathom what just had happened; the death of your parents, or the cuts and bruises that stung your delicate, baby skin. A nurse was walking by the room you were in when she noticed the small of your figure sitting up on the hard hospital bed, immediately bursting through the door with shock plastered on her young face.

You were not expected to survive a coma. You were not even meant to survive a deadly car crash. No one was really expecting you to wake up. In the midst of all the chaos that had eventually formed by the surprised nurses and hospital staff, you could only stare through the small-framed window, at the bright spark that shined outside in the empty streets. Only for your eyes to see.

Growing up with your grandparents had its perks. They were very pure beings; always trying the best they could to keep a content smile on your bruised face, always trying to show you the love their own children couldn’t. Their mythical, fantasy tales were your favorite; the ones where everything and everyone was magical, where anything could happen because suddenly animals and plants could talk, and the Earth wasn’t as soulless. Your lovely storytellers successfully distracted you from the harsh truth, that an innocent child like you had to learn at a very young age their family; the woman who birthed you and the man who held you in his arms for the first time, were gone. Just like they had left, the time came where their own parents had to step off the journey of life, too. This time, you were fully alone to face the frightening reality and malicious threats of those who weren’t happy. Fifthteen years old, you were now totally by yourself.

Or so, you thought.

Forming part of your grandparents’ usual anecdotes and short stories, was the tale consisting of soulmates. Soulmate, someone destined to be by your side forever. You knew they loved talking about myths and legends, so believing that something as harsh as life already had prepared an individual to cherish you, seemed impossible. More so, when it took your parents from you in the worst way possible. Naturally, you brushed the thought aside despite your grandmother’s last words, asking you to wait for the letter, one that was soon to come. You didn’t know what she was talking about, and quite frankly, you were too distressed to care; helplessly watching the world take yet again, someone from you.

Every night after the accident that almost took your life, images began forming in your head. What were images turned into short dreams, and soon, they were a common occasion every time you slipped off into slumber. After giving a final goodbye to your grandparents, those visions only seemed to increase. There, you would always meet him. The boy with excited eyes, somehow he always appeared remarkably delighted to see you, although you couldn’t understand why. Who was he? Why was he in your nightly thoughts all the time? You didn’t know, but you didn’t mind either. He was divine, always formally dressed in a white suit; black, lustrous shoes and hair combed back so carefully accompanied by a slight part enough to show some of his forehead. A person so tremendously handsome, you usually wondered how your young mind was even able to create such a heavenly man.

You never failed to meet him in your dreams. Enveloped by all the loneliness you had been left with, you looked forward to see him until the sun decided to rise from within the towering mountains and over the vast horizon; the sultry warmth of a new day bringing you out of the place where only the two of you knew. Life was mostly dull unless you were having your fair share of time with the celestial boy in the depths of your imagination.

Age seventeen came through, gifting you with the fading of majority of the scars that had been left on your skin as a daily reminder of what happened years ago. One of them, though, chose to accompany you forever. It was fine, you assured yourself, no matter how dark it sounded, it was the closest thing to your parents that you had. Rather than despising it, you’d enjoy it.

The town you lived in wasn’t all that special. It was small and far from the bigger cities, home to a low population of friendly people. Everyone knew each other; and everybody knew what happened the winter of 2006, when your parents died. The year your whole world came crashing down; like the angry ocean waves would hit at the random, jagged rocks that stuck from beneath the water. In spite of the tragedy you had to endure, nobody treated you with shameless pity, and instead taught you that yes; life can be threatening, but it can also be marvellous. You realized that living is unexpected; one day you’re breathing, the next one you could be gone. It’s difficult to accept the fact that everybody’s fate is exceptionally different. Sometimes they might leave with pride, sometimes they might leave with fear. Of course you didn’t know what the world had in store for your future, but you certainly didn’t want to keep drowning in your sea of miserable grief.

Sighing, you put an end to your train of thoughts as you plopped down on your bed’s soft mattress. Your grandparents’ wooden house was the same as it was the day they left; cosy, warm and vintage. You would often dream here about what the actual cities looked like, your last time catching the bright, colorful lights being the same day of the accident. Grandma didn’t want to tell you much as she usually avoided describing the occurence in detail, but she did admit you were on your way to visit her and the rest when the early winter storm caught up with the unplanned trip. Maybe, if your father would’ve chosen to spend one last day at your old house, they would be here today.

The endless questions and memories that consumed you everyday were enough to lull you off into a deep sleep.

Suddenly, everything around you looked magical and extraordinary in the sea of green, healthy grass that kissed at your bare feet oh so tenderly. Several flowers that accompanied the slightly flowing ocean of emerald were colorful; blues, pinks, yellows, purples. Every single shade thinkable was present. A sky so heavenly azure, and a small amount of white, fluffy cotton clouds decorating it beautifully. You discovered, you were no longer in reality. You were in your dreams. Far off in the distance, your eyes spotted the same white suit you had grown accustomed to seeing, and your feet immediately headed in the direction of the clean attire. There he was, the same boy who was nothing but absolutely ethereal, sitting on the soft field of tulips and roses under a large oak tree. He didn’t have to search to know you were there; he felt your presence from miles away, even when you were not meeting him in your lovely thoughts. After all, he had always been there with you. You just weren’t aware of it.

Despite the tall grass that occasionally tangled with your feet, you reached him easily, quietly taking a seat next to him on the velvety ground. “Hello.” He simply greeted, still looking off into the horizon as he slowly grazed his hands through the flowers surrounding him. Features so enchanting, his face looked like it had been sculpted and carved by the gods themselves. A defined nose and jawline, narrow eyes that only conveyed pure compassion, with a final touch of the smoothest skin you had ever seen before. He was literally glowing with beauty.

“Hi,” you replied shortly with a small smile, “we meet again.” He turned to glance at you, his eyes surveying lightly over your own features. He thought you were breathtaking.

He slightly nodded his head, the setting sun offering a nice dew to his warm skin. “We do.” A pause took over, and you wondered why he was so quiet today; usually, you were used to him being more talkative, even flirty. Before you could say anything else, he spoke up with a graceful smile. “You’re turning eighteen soon, right?” You could only nod, a huge knot forming in your chest at the thought of spending yet another birthday without the company of your family, you wished they would’ve been able to watch you turn into an adult. “Don’t be sad, just because they’re not with you physically, doesn’t mean they’re also not with you emotionally. If you think about it, they have never left.”

It had become a common feeling to be taken aback by his sudden rightful guessings of your thoughts. You never understood how he was able to tell what you were currently thinking, and honestly, it didn’t seem like you’d ever know, for his answers had always been along the lines of having a strong intuition.

By now, the bright sun had almost completely set behind the horizon, engulfing the vast grasslands with warm hues of oranges, yellows and reds; while the quick approaching night brought with itself a sea of blues, purples and pinks. The colors mixing together created a stunning evening sky, a view so captivating you could misinterpret it for a famous Italian painting. “I guess you’re right,” you agreed with his previous statement, “but I just wish I was able to spend a day meant to be so special with my family. In the flesh, I mean. I’m tired of spending my birthday by myself. Turning eighteen was supposed to feel exciting, but I can’t seem to find eagerness anywhere within my emotions when I know I’ll be on my own again.” Exhaling with slight disappointment, you softly pulled at a honeysuckle beside you and allowed yourself to savor the sweet taste of the nectar that it gingerly left on your tongue. You wondered if there was anything else more sugary than the tasty honey of the tiny flower.

“I understand.” He replied with a slight nod as he watched you grab another honeysuckle. Then, he did something he had never done before, and his hand grasped yours delicately. You were certain this was only a dream, still, you could feel him. You could feel his skin and the warmth that radiated from his hand, along with the creases on his much bigger palm. Somehow, the skin there wasn’t soft like you imagined, in fact, it was sort of rough; either way, they still managed to feel silky as they held your own. “But hey,” his eyes twinkled with happiness as he beamed, “I promise you, you won’t be spending your eighteenth birthday alone this time. I promise, really.”

“I hope you’re right,” you let the boy intertwine his fingers with yours, “I’ve been meeting you in my dreams for the longest time. Things like this don’t happen, so I believe you might be telling the truth.”

His eyebrows furrowed adorably as he shook his head, “I always tell the truth, lying is wrong. Besides, I would never do that to you.”

“Indeed.” You grinned lightly, and only now had you remembered this had been the first time in a while where you had shown genuine merriment. Night had taken over, and now the dark sky was covered in multiple little stars that, although from your perspective they barely sparkled, you were sure they glowed the brightest if close enough. Sometimes, what shines the most is not always the first thing noticed. The boy holding your hand frequently questioned why you couldn’t see that on yourself; why you couldn’t see how dazzling you really were, like the twinkling balls of fire that called themselves stars. Sighing with joy, you kept staring up at the endless heavens, the lively moon being your only source of light. “Hey?” You spoke up again, earning yourself a hum from the handsome boy. He didn’t seem to age, he still looked the same as he did the first time you ever saw him in yours dreams. Now, you realized his features resembled the same as a regular teenager like you, except he was obviously striking. “I’ve been meeting you here for as long as I can remember, but I never got your name.”

He chuckled, thinking you sounded cute. His free hand gently pulled at a fully bloomed rose, its scarlet red shade so bright and vibrant in the scarce night light. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that yet, love.” He shook his head, releasing your hand and instead replacing his own with the beautiful rose. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough, you just have to wait a little bit more. Then, you will get an answer to all your questions. They say patience is key.” Standing up, he carefully pulled you up with him too, pressing a faint kiss to your forehead. “Lovely, it’s time for you to leave.”

“But I don’t want to.” You muttered, not quite looking forward to another lonely day.

The boy laughed lowly as he began walking in the opposite path from where you initially came from. “Dont worry, you see me here everyday, right? I’ll be waiting for you here on your next dream. And the next one, and the one after, and the one after. I will always be waiting. Just do me a favor, will you? Take that rose with you, consider it my early birthday gift. Keep it, and care for it. Also, remember my promises, I won’t ever break them.”

Just like that, he disappeared in the multitude of blooming flowers, as you felt yourself fade away from the world you wished was your reality.

You woke up from your deep slumber, a smile etched across your face as you thought of your little secret, who you always encountered in your dreams wearing the same white suit. Your conscious itself was still adapting to the daylight of a new day and the comforting heat radiating all the way from your window. Hair disheveled, and eyes puffy from sleep, you had not woken up yet completely. As your senses adjusted, strangely enough, you felt something smooth against your arm, only then noticing the red rose resting nicely next to you while its petals softly kissed at your skin. A gasp left your lips instantly, and you quickly scurried off the bed as fast as lighting to stare incredulously at the flower laying on it. You were a hundred percent sure that was not there before drifting off. Yet, as freaked out as you were, the boy’s words filled your mind, and you reluctantly picked up the gorgeous plant to place it in a vase of fresh water.

The brand new day carried on as always, unwanted and repetitive. Many outsiders who traveled from the bigger cities claimed your small town was breathtaking; here, they didn’t have to deal with the awful sounds or smells that the multiple factories over there emitted, they didn’t have to deal with the large streets full of traffic and impatient car horns from people who were desperate to get home. Here, your town was everything but the opposite. Streets were not paved, instead, they were nice dirt paths created by the town’s own people so cars could drive by easily. It was mostly rural; adorned with greenery, flowers, crops and the overall touch of unbothered Mother Nature. A huge pond occupied by different, colorful fish was located in the center of the town, also serving as a usual meeting spot for friends or couples who wanted to have a lovely day out. Lastly, the most special detail; a large river stream ran through, which had been decorated between the passing years with several tiny shops and homely bakeries that had slowly started forming alongside it. Generally, it reminded you of pictures from Venice, Italy that you’d see on the internet.

In spite of how gifting your little town was, it’s not like you could enjoy it when you had no one to explore it with. You had your fair shares of adventures around it when you were young, but as you inevitably grew older, so did the cravings for companionship, for a friend. A friend you didn’t have. Growing up without any parents somehow prevented children at school from befriending you, claiming it was weird to not have a mother or a father. You never blamed them, nor did you resent them; they were merely young kids, who were almost just as clueless as you.

Due to many unpleasant experiences, you began believing this town had nothing else in store for you other than remind you of the unforgettable truth, so you often refrained from going out when it was unneeded. Living alone had also slowly become bearable; either way, you had to learn how to because there was nobody else who would be able to guide you through life. There was no choice but to become independent at an early age.

After taking a warm shower and placing the unexpected rose in a vase, you decided to make yourself some chamomile tea. While waiting for the water to boil, your eyes spotted a rusty note that was messily folded, laying on the kitchen counter. It appeared almost crumpled, like it had been bunched up in a rush. You confusedly stared at it for a short moment, trying to remember whether there had been a note there last night when you cleaned the kitchen isle. A sudden whistle interrupted your puzzled thoughts just as you were about to open up the strange looking letter, bringing you out of your daze as the loud hiss reminded you the boiling, hot water was finally ready. Cursing under your breath, you quickly whipped around in a hurry to turn off the stove, forgetting about the wrinkled paper altogether.

The rest of your day went by unbothered, the night sky catching up quicker than you had presumed. Regardless, it didn’t faze you. Rather than upsetting you, it only caused a huge wave of excitement to travel along your body; you knew what the night meant. You let out a squeal that bounced off the walls as you observed through the window the dark sky that had engulfed the whole town, decorated by the bright moon that had replaced the yellow, warm sun. It was only seven at night when you read the time on the digital clock hung on the thorough, wooden walls. You hurried off to your room, where you quickly readied yourself for sleep.

Not long after, you found yourself barefooted in the same place as always, although this time autumn season had began. Unlike reality, time worked distinctly in your dreams. When it was nighttime in the real world, it was daytime in your thoughts. Yet, you couldn’t understand why the season suddenly changed, you weren’t quite sure this had happened before. Right in front of your eyes, the oak tree you were so used to see standing gracefully with flowing, vibrant leaves, was slowly becoming leafless while the few ones that did manage to stick to the branches jumped between different, several warm and golden tones. The grasslands that were once a blanket of only verdant green with the occasional colorful flowers that would stand out, was now an ocean of faded orange mixed with a faint tint of pinkish red. Underneath the oak tree sat him, but this time he was not dressed in the same white suit from always; he was wearing casual clothes, and his typical perfectly brushed hair was left down and fluffy, covering most of his forehead.

White denim jeans paired with a white denim jacket, and a loose light, grey t-shirt tucked carelessly inside his pants; he seemed to already know what you were wondering, and answered your question before you even got the chance to take a seat on the dried autumn grass. “Everything is different because something important is nearing. No,” he giggled when he noticed you lean forward with a new question ready to be asked, “I can’t tell you what the special occasion is. Chill, you’ll find out in no time.”

Whining, you slightly sulked with an annoyed look plastered on your face, “I’m tired of all these weird clues.”

“Don’t worry, the answers are closer than you think. Quit sulking, drama queen.” He grinned warmly. The scenery appeared ridiculous when compared to his radiant smile, it was a battle he’d win right away effortlessly. A sudden breeze passed by, offering a pleasant warmth that felt sensational as the air slowly became cooler every time the season developed more. Whenever you met up with him, you always had new things to interrogate him for, but just recently your inquiries had gotten much bigger as you found yourself in stranger situations leading towards him. You turned to glance at him, despite his side profile being the only sight you could get from your current view, you knew he still looked unreal as ever. “I noticed you kept the rose.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “how do you know?”

“Can’t answer that either.” He shrugged with a cheeky grin, exhaling with calmness as he rested on his elbows, basking in the warm, soft breezes that blew by every now and then. His chestnut brown hair moved fluidly along with the infrequent winds too, letting his forehead show up for a split second. You thought he seemed so peaceful like this. Truthfully, he always looked peaceful, but today his features were particularly serene as they emitted a feeling of tranquility, even you felt it. He hummed, opening his eyes for a short moment before closing them again, “you forgot to read the note. I’ll get rid of that one and send a new one when you wake up. Make sure to read it, no excuses.”

A small huff of disbelief escaped your lips, as they soon turned into a smile. “Are you sure you’re not a witch? You were the one who put the rose on the bed, right? Because how else would that magically be there? Please answer me before I go insane.” You massaged your temples gently to simmer down all the jumbled emotions that had fallen upon you. “I thought you were just part of my imagination, but I’m doubting that now. Oh my God, what are you? There’s literally no way I can bring a flower out of my dreams-”

“Just part of your imagination, what am I? An imaginary friend? Sorry,” he laughed, “I’m not that. Yeah, I was the one who placed the rose next to you; but no, I won’t answer how.” You could tell he was having fun watching you experience an existential crisis in the middle of your dreams, it entertained him more than he would like to admit. “Today you seem very curious, that’s no good. So, we will be parting ways sooner than we usually do.”

“Wait, no, what-”

With only the snap of his fingers, it was nighttime, like a light switch had been flicked and suddenly the brightness was turned off. Due to the fast approaching winter lurking just around the corner, it was freezing cold, the temperatures so low you stared at the unfazed boy like he was crazy. You immediately began shivering, and he calmly took the time to place his denim jacket over your trembling shoulders. Honestly, the piece of clothing didn’t really provide you with much cover, but the warmth of his body that had stuck to it was enough to decrease the clattering of your teeth and the goosebumps that had formed on your arm the moment the temperatures abruptly dropped. “You can take that with you. For now, we have to go. Goodbye lovely, we’ll see each other soon.”

Your body shot up on bed in shock, anxiously feeling around your shoulders where indeed, a jacket comfortably rested on. His jacket. You felt like crying from all the utter confusion, so many questions swirling in your head that you wanted to desperately ask. Breathing irregular, you stood up with a slight stumble as you made your way towards the bathroom with a failing vision until you were able to grip the small counter, your reflection showing back on the flimsy mirror. There was no tone to your skin, which was accompanied by a light dampness; your throat felt like it was stinging and your nose was extremely runny. Was this a cold? A sharp pain hit at your temples before a grunt left your lips, demanding you to get some rest. Using all the strength you could muster, you went back to bed, falling weakly on the soft mattress.

“You fucker, now I’m sick.” You gritted through you teeth with irritation. As if on cue to your words, another crumpled ball of paper flew onto your forehead, gently bouncing off and onto the bedsheets. You cursed again, rolling your eyes before opening up the letter. It looked old, the delicate paper was covered in several creases and ink stains that were smeared all over the page; inside, was the messiest handwriting you had ever seen before. Squinting, you tried your best to make out the tangled words that were scribbled down.

Before I even start; you got to stop cursing young woman. The Heavens are watching and won’t be happy at you. Now, off to the actual letter. You must still remember your grandmother telling you about it, this was the note she was talking to you about. How are you? I hope you’re dealing alright with that nasty cold, honest, I knew you’d catch one after that weather. It’s alright though, it won’t last longer than three days, enough for you to spend your awaiting birthday without any bothersome sicknesses. How does it feel to be turning eighteen years old in four days time? Maybe you didn’t believe me, or maybe you did, but I’m still keeping promise to my words, and I assure you; your eighteenth birthday won’t be spent alone, neither will be your other birthdays to come. You’ve come so far in life, you have battled so much and yet you’re still overflowing with strength. You definitely deserve answers to all the questions you’ve often wondered about.

Remember all those fairy tales you would hear all the time from your grandparents? The ones you loved so, so much? Many of them were really only that; tales and nothing more, just something to keep you entertained, except for one. No, soulmates are not a lie, or merely another created narration from your lovely storytellers, they’re a real thing. You’ll meet your soulmate soon, I promise. I could tell you who it is, but I’d rather wait and watch you find it out yourself. For the meanwhile, you can look at your wrist the day you turn eighteen, you’ll notice some words engraved on it. They’re meant to be your soulmate’s first words ever said to you; in person, so the flesh and bones. I feel like I gotta make that clear because you’re so dense. When you do finally meet them, the words will fade away. Overall, you’re going to get a gut feeling when you meet the right person, you won’t even need to check your wrist to know. Everybody is destined to meet their soulmate sooner or later, you would know about it more if you ever left the house, lazy. Since you don’t, you’re not really aware of how many people out there have already found their fated lover. Even your folks were destined soulmates. Everybody is.

You certainly are curious. No, don’t be scared, stop thinking I’m a witch, I’m not. Yes, I can read your thoughts and I can feel your emotions. Yeah, even though I wrote this way before you read it. I can already decipher them from days, hours, minutes and seconds before. What’s up, I hereby officially present myself to you as your Guardian Angel. Just as one gets assigned a soulmate, they can also get assigned a Guardian Angel, way before they’re even born; life is weird. Truth be told, your family already knew me. This is why your grandmother asked you to wait for the letter, otherwise she knew your stubborn self wouldn’t have budged. Someone like me can only do much, I don’t really form a part of what The Heavens decide; therefore, I wasn’t aware that you were involved in a car crash along with your parents. As your Guardian Angel, I can only save the one assigned to me, that being you. And, as far as decisions go, it had also already been determined by The Heavens they would be taking your parent’s lives early. I don’t know why, but they must have their own reasons. One thing I can assure you though, is that their last breath was peaceful. All they wanted was for you to be fine, and they knew you’d be.

No one from your family had a Guardian Angel for themselves because it’s actually a rare thing to get one assigned. You were part of the small percent who did attain one. I’m not just a creation from the depths of your dreams, but it was the only place through which I could communicate with you for the meantime. Our situation though... it’s a little complex, or different, but very special since it barely ever happens. Little to no chances, I mean. Again, I’ll leave that for you to figure out. Look out for my visit on the 28th, your birthday. Once you turn eighteen, I’m allowed to see you. Not in your dreams, or thoughts or imagination, just reality. See, right? I promised you. You won’t be spending your birthday alone anymore, and I never break my promises.

I also want you to know, your parents and grandparents; they’re fine, they’re resting well. I really am sorry that I was not able to do anything to save your parents, trust me, if I could have, I would’ve. Thank you, for always thinking so fondly of me and calling me your hero when you were young, even though you didn’t even know what I was. I’m glad you looked up to me. Don’t worry, and don’t cry, remember I can feel when you’re unhappy; I can already tell as I’m writing this letter that you are in tears. Don’t be, I know you frequently worry about your family, if they left happy or sad; or, if they left in peace or not. They’re totally happy in The Heavens, where nobody suffers. You don’t have to be concerned over them anymore, they’re in peace and their wish is for you to be too.

Yes, silly, Guardian Angels can age. Mine was just frozen at twenty until I meet you. I still have a lot of explaining to do but you have to figure out the important part first.

I hope this letter answered all your big questions, it seems like it did. I apologize again, that I couldn’t save your parents. But, do believe me, they’re all fine. Stop crying, it makes me sad too. I can’t wait to finally meet you, I’ve been already waiting more than eighteen years. Anyways, I’ll be ending this here, lovely. I know your grandma said it was only a note but this got longer than I had planned, oops. See you soon,

Na Jaemin, your Guardian Angel.

Your hands shook as the crippled letter fell from your trembling grip, tears running down your face uncontrollably. You wouldn’t say your cries were of anguish, but rather, peacefulness. Peace because now you finally knew your parents were fine, and peace within yourself after that discovery. It was a question you initially thought was impossible to get an answer for. For the longest time, you had felt guilty you were given a second chance while they were not; but, although you still firmly believed they were taken unfairly from you, at least you knew they were okay. Words were not enough to express how you currently felt. So, the world that you thought to be so ugly and malicious actually had things such as soulmates and Guardian Angels? You always doubted they existed, much less were you able to process you were gifted with the two. It never crossed your mind that the boy in your dreams, Na Jaemin, was the reason why you were even alive.

You always told yourself the world had so much to make up for after taking away your loved ones. Little did you know you had been meeting with the most important person in your life for the entirety of it. Suddenly, it was you who had to make up for so much. The question was, how would you do something greater than what Na Jaemin did for you? He was after all, your literal savior.

And you’d be meeting him soon.

November 28th finally arrived, your cold long gone as the time hit twelve o’clock at midnight. Anxiously, you looked down, and time felt like it had slowed. Although the seconds kept counting down just fine, you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your veins as you watched black, cursive words gradually show up on your wrist. ‘Hello, lovely.’ You exhaled with a shaky breath, gliding your finger over the words swiftly; they looked like they had been tattooed on your wrist for a long time now despite their recent appearance. Astonished, you cursed before glancing around your bedroom, unsure of what to do and completely ignoring the angel’s previous scolding for your bad habit of swearing. It all seemed unreal to you, but the constant burn of the pinching you inflicted upon yourself assured you it wasn’t. Your heart rate was beating at rapid speeds, and you began wondering if it would eventually thump out of your chest to escape from all the unstoppable adrenaline rushing chaotically through your entire body.

“Alright, calm down, fuck.” The angel could only watch you in amusement from afar, shaking his head at your raw language.

The midnight winds were tremendously cool as the winter temperatures continued to drop, the heater or the cosy clothing you currently wore were not enough to fully rid you of the icy atmosphere. You wished you’d meet the angel in your dreams, so you could be welcomed by a warm and sultry weather. Unfortunately, you had not gotten to see him after the day you read the long, messy letter he wrote. It was weird to not have the daily visions you had grown so accustomed to.

Somewhere during the very early hours of the morning, you managed to drift off into a deep sleep, unable to meet the angel once again. You woke up to a much more pleasant climate air, and you would’ve been happy about it if it weren’t for the many doubts you awoke with. It had been four days since you had last seen him. The usual scenery you always magically appeared in with the help of your brain didn’t develop in the deepness of your thoughts; you didn’t care about your birthday anymore, you cared for the boy from your dreams. You still had to learn to call him by his actual name, but it was harder than you expected when he had basically been nameless for most of your life. Na Jaemin, you had never heard that name around your town or anywhere else, it was just as unique as him.

“I heard you calling?”

You shrieked, tumbling off the bed and onto the hardwood floor as your chest heaved up and down in fear. Quickly, you stood up on your feet, where you locked wide eyes with the charming smile you always admired, a grin beaming with pearly whites showing through that could light up the whole world. There he stood gracefully, unlike you, wearing the same attire he had been sporting the last time you saw him; of course, minus the denim jacket you occasionally hugged to sleep. Instead of the same brown hair he always had, it was now a light shade of blonde, to the point where it nearly looked silver. Eyes still widened in alarm after his unexpected arrival, you carried on taking in his features and tall figure; lean and majestic, exactly as you had described him the first time. He was absolute breathtaking, and his beauty only seemed more glorious face to face; you were utterly speechless.

An almost quiet giggle went past his lips, a smile still adorning his features as he carefully approached you upon noticing your frozen state. There was a slight glow that outlined his physique, similar to the one you always caught sight of as a child, but not as strong. With gentle movements, his hand softly came up to cup your cheek, tenderly caressing at the skin before pulling you into a warm embrace. You gasped, his swift actions successfully bringing you out of your daze; and ultimately, with shaky hands, you wrapped your arms around his torso tightly as well. He hummed lowly in satisfaction at the feeling of your returned hug, already loving how it felt to finally be held by you.

Hugging him felt oddly nice to you, there was an emotion inside that you couldn’t quite describe, but you knew for sure it was a feeling you had never experienced before. You felt free and no longer alone, like you had known him your entire life; not just because of the dreams where the two of you conversed, it was a feeling more personal than that, like he had always been there with you. Not all your senses worked in your nightly thoughts, and only now were you able to bask in the sweet smell that engulfed him; he smelled like home. Like the tall, grassy grounds he was always sitting on under the same familiar oak tree as he waited for you. Like the roses and tulips that were fully bloomed in all their grandeur by summer time, and like the warm sunrays that never failed to make his skin naturally glow with dewiness. You had never smelled anything in your dreams, because it simply was impossible, but you didn’t have to; you knew right away he was the epitome of the place where you always met up, in all the five senses. The enthralling landscape, the soothing sounds of nature, the sweet taste of honeysuckles, the feeling of the flowing grasses, the earthy scent of threes and flowers; all put together into a human body.

Not only did he feel like home, but his embrace also provided a sensation of comfort and safety that nobody else could emulate. Your heart was beating rapidly, but this time it wasn’t out of shock, it was nervousness. You felt like you had made the biggest discovery ever, yet you were not sure what the find was. Still, everything somehow felt right amidst the thundering thump of your chest that rang loudly in your ears.

“Hello, lovely.” He whispered in your ear, feeling the smile on his face as his lips gently pressed against the side of your head.

Overcome with emotion, a tear ran down your cheek before slightly pulling away so you could properly look up at him. “Thank you, for saving me. Thank you so much... Jaemin. How will I ever repay you?”

“Silly,” he simply chuckled, “you don’t have to repay me with anything, meeting you is enough.”

You nodded as he ran his fingers through your hair, confessing, “I feel very comfortable around you, even though I just met you. Well, in person, I’m still confused.”

“It’s totally normal,” Jaemin replied as he pulled away from his tight embrace, softly patting your back, “technically, I’ve always been here, you just couldn’t see me. Reminds me; happy birthday, lovely.”

Heart fluttering at his words, you began feeling all giddy and fluffy inside despite not understanding the reason why. You could not fathom why he was having such a huge impact on you already. “I have a question.”

“Not surprised.”

“Do you, perhaps, have any wings or a halo?”

Jaemin giggles in amusement at your question, shaking his head. “I don’t, but I used to. We only have wings and halos when we’re in The Heavens, not on Earth. I’m meant to form part of Earth from now on, so I can’t really show you, except for the glow around my body. That, I choose whether I want you to see it or not.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “Yeah, I’m still a Guardian Angel, your Guardian Angel specifically.”

Your cheeks flushed a faint tint of pink, muttering as you looked down at your feet, “stop reading my thoughts.”

“What? Are you scared I’m going to hear something naughty or weird one day? Don’t worry, I’ve heard plenty of those. Also heard multiple times you think I’m god-worthy handsome. Thanks, by the way. Its okay, it’s normal for me now. Just keep your thoughts in check, where did you learn all those dirty things, young lady?”

“Jaemin!” You screeched in embarrassment, your cheeks only becoming redder than they previously were, his grip tightening around you lovingly.

The boy shook with laughter, a melodious sound to your ears that you wanted to keep hearing for the rest of your life, and if it weren’t for the awful embarrassment you were experiencing, you would’ve surely relished in the contagious cackles more. Being with Jaemin was natural, it didn’t feel awkward at all, you instantly knew you could trust him with anything; besides, meeting him in your dreams for the past fifteen years was enough time to warm up to him.

“Come on,” you grabbed his hand, letting go not long after when a jolt shot through your arm. “What the hell! What was that?”

“You better stop cursing around me,” Jaemin jokingly warned, narrowing his eyes at you, “you have to find that out for yourself. I never thought you’d be this clueless, to be honest.”

“And lastly, this is the basement; tour is finally done! This used to be my grandparent’s house from mom’s side, where I spent my whole childhood in. My dad’s parents lived a little farther away and their house wasn’t roomy enough to take me, but they still visited here constantly; it felt like they all lived together, honestly.” You explained to the tall boy. You had decided to show him around, still rocking your hideous pajamas, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Jaemin hummed as he listened to you, eyes skimming over the wide, empty room; of course, he already knew every single part of your house like the back of his hand. He had been watching you your entire life, chances are he even recognized it better than you. Though, as he gazed at you with loving eyes, you seemed too excited showing him around so much that he chose to remain quiet and carry on pretending he was unfamiliar with everything surrounding him.

Your grandparent’s house was extremely welcoming; as most houses in your town, this was also built solely out of pure wood. It wasn’t exactly a cabin, but rather a small suburban home. Everything inside consisted of mostly vintage items left behind by your folks, the only modern objects around being the ones they had bought for you. As for the backyard, it wasn’t really spacious, but it was well appreciated and cared for since majority of the homes in the town didn’t have one. Your grandmother was always making sure her garden looked appealing at all times; and in memory of her, you would regularly keep it neat in spite of your hatred for gross bugs and itchy plants.

“I used to always come down here when I wanted to play with old stuff, like landline phones or typewriter machines, I thought they were quite fun.” You smiled automatically at the fond memories. “Oh! I also remember accidentally catching Grandpa and Grandma kissing, it was disgusting.”

Jaemin laughed, recalling the time you found your grandparents being way too romantic for your young mind to comprehend, and your startled eyes before running off as soon as you had identified the scene in front.

You sat down on the dusty wooden floors that were in strong needs of some good polishing and sweeping as you called Jaemin over. Complying, he took a seat next to you, creating a feeling of familiarity just like you would usually sit together in your dreams; except this time, the two of you were in a basement desperately screaming for a deep clean. You were certain his white clothes would be totally dirty by the time you left the room. “I forgot to tell you, you were right about the whole soulmate words thing.”

“Did you think it was a lie?” He cocked an eyebrow, paired with a sly smirk.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” You waved your hands in the air fearing he had gotten the wrong idea.

Giggling, he nodded and brought your hands down gently, “I know what you mean. Tell me about it.” He might’ve been a holy being, but he had never experienced love for endless decades. Now that he finally found you, he couldn’t stop the crazy thumping of his heart.

“Okay so, I stayed awake until midnight yesterday - well, today, actually... anyways - besides the point.” Jaemin smiled adoringly at your cute stutters and fumbled ranting. He had learnt years ago that you stumbled over your own words when you were ecstatic about something. Hearing your thoughts in the distance was nearly impossible when he was so close to you, and it was inevitable to catch what your mind was currently thinking. You were talking, but your mind kept saying he looked ethereal right now next to you, going as far as comparing him to the most prepossessing events from Earth itself and claiming he was still prettier. “So, as I was telling you, I stayed awake ‘till midnight and you were right! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I noticed small letters appear on my wrist out of the blue, it was freaky to see it firsthand. Do you want to see?”

A cocky smirk was threatening to show up on Jaemin’s lips sooner or later, whether it be for your thoughts about him or what you were about to find out; yet, he fought the feeling and simply agreed at your request. It felt like euphoria was devouring him whole, but outside, he maintained a serene stance when you raised your wrist up to his eyes. As expected by him but not by you, the words were no longer there. A piercing shriek that hurt his ears left you upon realizing your wrist was not marked with the cursive letters anymore. Jaemin could only internally crack up at the sight of you scrambling away in panic, rushing towards the small window on the wall to get a better look of your arm with the aid of the sunrays. There was, in fact, nothing there.

The angel pondered playfully, humming specially loud so you’d be able to catch the mischief in his tone, “I thought you wanted to show me something? I don’t see anything there.”

Eyes wide like they were about to jump out of their sockets, you turned to look at him with a frightened expression, whining. “What do you know that I don’t?”

With a grunt, Jaemin got up from the floor as he brushed off the dust on his clothes, rolling his eyes at your question. “Silly girl,” he approached, your feet moving backwards the closer he got, eventually stopping when your back hit the wall behind you, “you’re so bad at this game.” He smiled cheekily before flicking your forehead.

“Ow!”

“Lovely, what did I explain it meant when the words faded away? Do you remember what I first said when I arrived?”

Oh. You realized what the current situation was. Jaemin was your fated soulmate, and as always, you did not notice because you were distracted; unsurprisingly, distracted by him. “But you’re not exactly human? How is it possible?”

He shrugged, running a hand through your hair, “Heaven and God are complicated. Angels can have human soulmates if that’s how The Heavens decide it, the only benefit you get, is you get to know when you’ll meet them - unlike humans who have no idea if they’re even gonna be fated to somebody or they’ll leave the world tragically because of their wrongdoings. The downside is that angels can take thousands and thousands of years to meet their soulmate; I was lucky to only have to wait three hundred.”

“Three hundred years!? But how come you’re twenty years old, how did you become an angel? Does me feeling all happy and sappy around you have to do with all this?” You were freaking out, but you didn’t want him to misunderstand.

Jaemin nodded, pulling you down onto the floor with him again, “there are two different types of angels; angels and Guardian Angels. Angels are people that died before their innocence was tainted which is basically all newborns or young children; teenagers and adults can too, just not as often. Guardian Angels are beings created by God himself, so unlike angels, we never existed in Earth first.” His hands were fiddling nervously with the end of his t-shirt, fingers adorned with a few silver rings. “We’re only allowed to meet our soulmate until they turn eighteen, so our age freezes at twenty while we wait. Angels can’t see their soulmate like I did in your dreams, but since I’m your Guardian Angel, I’m required to watch and care for you at all times. So, it’s acceptable to reveal myself to you discretely. And yeah,” he sheepishly giggled, “that’s why you feel all happy and sappy around me. I do too.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess. Someone dumb like me can only handle so much information, Jaemin.”

He snickered. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You pushed him away playfully, a small smile lingering on your lips before a blush took over your features. You never had a boyfriend previously, and you had no idea what to do from now on. Jaemin looked lovely as ever, the attraction you had for him only heightening as the bond became stronger. His once fully white clothes were now slightly covered in dust, as so was his face. Despite that and his tinted cheeks that you assumed were like that because he intruded your thoughts once again, he was the same handsome boy from your dreams that never failed to make you smile. Now, he’d be by your side for more than your usual six hours of sleep, and you were thrilled, to say the least. Meeting him for real got your heart rushing and doing flips, you didn’t know what that initially meant; but now you were sure it had to be love. It felt strange to feel something as deep as love for someone you met minutes ago. Then again, Jaemin was more than a soulmate; he had basically been with you the entirety of your life, your love went higher than a mere soulmate bond. “So, what do we do now?”

Rosy cheeks, the angel was still not able to look at you after listening to your thoughts. He knew he had to stop doing that, but it wasn’t easy when they sounded so loud and tempting in his ears. “Can I kiss you? I’ve really wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you.”

A series of wild coughs took over you upon hearing Jaemin’s confession, your reaction only making him feel giddier than he already was. “I - sorry,” the attack in your throat gradually slowed down, “I’m just, Ive never had my first kiss before, I’m new to all of this.”

He scurried closer with cheeky eyes, the darkening daylight that managed to show through the tiny window in the room signaled that the sun was beginning to set, the basement now drowned in a vibrant, saturated mandarin shade. Your breath hitched instantly when he cupped your cheeks, his eyes fully sparkling with love and adoration for you, gaze traveling down your features until it landed on your lips. He wet his own unknowingly, slightly parting them as light, irregular puffs of breathes left him. Jaemin leaned in, closing the short gap that was once between the two of you until the same jolt of electricity from before warmly hit you.

His lips tasted sugary sweet, like he had been previously sucking at the nectar from the honeysuckles you loved to have in your dreams. Now, you were certain that there was indeed something sweeter than honesuckles. Not only did he taste sweet, he felt sweet too. His mouth moved against yours slowly, the rhythm at which you two kissed was a little bit sloppy, but neither of you cared about it; hands still gently holding your cheeks while your own found their preferred location, lightly grabbing at his shoulders. Jaemin pulled back, chest heaving with pants as he attempted to catch his breath, leaning in again after whispering lowly against your lips.

“Hadn’t had my first kiss either.”

“Na Jaemin, you’re supposed to be an angel from Heaven!”

The boy ignored your protests, keeping you trapped between his body and the wooden wall as he continued a fiery assault on your neck, lips trailing all the way down to your collarbones where he mercilessly sucked hard reds and purples at the delicate skin.

Months had quickly gone by after finding out the angel was your fated special someone, and time flew peacefully as your feelings for each other grew more and more at rapid lengths, if it was even possible to be any more infatuated than you already were. A lot of remarkable things had happened once Jaemin officially stepped into your life; you weren’t low-spirited anymore like you used to be, coming to terms with yourself that Jaemin was happiness itself, it was impossible to remain miserable with someone as bright as him around. Although your biggest dream had always been to visit the wonderful cities that you knew awaited outside your small town, you decided to stay here; often reminding you of the views you’d always encounter in your imagination whenever you met up with the angel, instead of your parents like you used to believe.

Christmas was the best holiday you had spent, drowning in all the love Jaemin cherished you with while his arms held you tightly to his body as you both cuddled in front of the warm fireplace, under large, fluffy blankets. Or, the softness of his lips that pressed against yours in utter passion after he had shamelessly placed random mistletoes all around the house as an excuse to kiss you all throughout winter. It was little things like that, that made you fall deeper for him. Spring was slowly coming to an end as summer prepared to engulf everybody in the heat of its shining sun and the hot temperatures that gradually became warmer every day. You couldn’t wait for the orangey sunsets that were soon to come so you could take Jaemin out to the small shops located along the river, accompanied by the relaxing sounds of the streaming fresh waters and forgotten 70’s songs that the old ladies from the stores never failed to play.

With time, you found out Jaemin was tremendously clingy and overwhelmingly sappy. For a while, he seemed absolutely pure, the tittle well deserved since he did belong to the vast heavens that he described as divinely glorious. You believed him, for his looks and personality where the exact same. Though, your perception of innocence that you had for him might’ve gone overboard, because even a harmless angel like him could sometimes overflow with a burning fire of love and want.

“Are you even allowed to do things like this?” You whined under his towering frame, refusing to let out any sounds of satisfaction. He was supposed to be a holy and saint being, yet here he was, licking and biting at your skin with no remorse. No matter how hard you tried to keep quiet, the shocks of pleasure that his naughty kisses sent throughout you entire body were inevitable and tough to neglect, when the feeling was so exquisite.

He was panting with need, wasting no time in taking off both your shirts as his hands instantly began roaming around your unconvered, warm skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him, “it’s fine.” His hands slowly moved up towards your flushed face, taking their own sweet time to run over your tummy and all the way up to your chest, which received special extra attention, until he eventually reached your cheeks and brought you into a rough kiss. Jaemin’s lips devoured you like there was no tomorrow, like he was a starved man, occasionally biting gingerly at your lower lip before lightly swiping his tongue across, engaging the wet muscles in a battle he would surely win. “Please, touch me.”

You pulled away shortly with ragged breaths, lips a cherry red and fully swollen from all the endless sucking he had inflicted on them. “Na Jaemin, are you sure this is right? I’ve never done anything dirty yet I swear I feel like I’m corrupting you so bad-”

“Stop swearing, it’s wrong.”

Jaw dropped in disbelief, you glanced up at the shirtless boy who still had you pressed against the wall with no way out, “I - you’re saying that while trying to get into my pants! I’m pretty sure swearing is the least of concerns here.”

“I’m not the one who’s thinking about sex all the time, you expect me to go through my day calmly when you’re thinking such naughty stuff?” Jaemin whined with a pout, running his fingers through his blonde locks in frustration before unexpectedly picking your flustered self up. He hurriedly carried you towards the bedroom, ignoring your loud screams demanding to put you down as he gently threw your body onto the soft mattress. “I’m literally a teenage boy, I have needs and your thoughts don’t help,” he kept complaining, “this is totally normal, it’s fine as long as it is with your soulmate, I promise. Now, please, woman.” The angel proceeded to leave a trail of feathery, wet kisses down your neck again, eyes landing on your bra straps before they locked with your gaze and wordlessly asked for permission.

Nodding slowly, you pulled Jaemin down and locked lips once again; though, this time it felt like all your unsaid emotions were pouring out into the desperate kiss, love being the biggest one swimming in the pools of several, different sentiments. He returned the kiss delicately as your hands slightly tugged at the little hairs that rested on the back of his neck, eliciting tiny moans and groans that rumbled in his hard chest. Breaths of pleasure that you swallowed escaped his mouth, the kiss progressively becoming messier and harsher as you allowed yourselves to get lost in the euphoric feeling of your bodies pressed close together, the warmth the radiated from your bare skin igniting a huge fire of arousal within the two of you.

“I love you. So much.” Jaemin pecked your lips one last time with a sincere smile, hands gliding over your shoulder blades as they unclasped your bra, gently sliding off the straps with eyes that twinkled with nothing but absolute love, lust and devotion. “I’m gonna take you higher than Heaven.”

“Jaemin! Don’t be rude!” Right then and there, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be; in the arms of your lover as he showed you a deeper intimacy than you had ever shared before. Despite all you had gone through, life gifted you with the greatest present, Na Jaemin. You didn’t have to dream anymore to feel at home, he brought it with himself.

A celestial angel, indeed. Life was no longer unbearable for you, it was the best thing ever; and you were ready to live it at its fullest.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

What are your favorite johnlock fics of all time?

Ohhhh.

Ohhh noo. 

Nonny you’re cruel.

Okay so funny story: 

Someone asked me this exact thing a couple years ago. 

I started a fic rec list offline at that time

Said list kept growing and growing as I decided to start sorting my fics.

It’s now a couple years later, and the list has over 300 fics on it XD.

So you see my dilemma LOL. 

I have done a few fic lists in the past along this vein:

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017 )

Ten Fave Short Johnlock Fics (Easy Reads April 2018)

25 Fave Johnlock One Shots (April 2018)

Top 10 Fave Fics (September 2018)

So what should I do today? How about the fics I ALWAYS re-read when I feel like I just need something familiar and oh so delicious? Would that be okay? Fics that I never hesitate to read again? Note that this list will probably change in a few months’ time as I re-read newer fics I’ve recently bookmarked; if I’m in a certain mood, a fic will get added and another removed, LOL. In fact, I’ve had this sitting in my drafts from quite awhile before I finally posted it, LOL. Waited a week, because my “feels” kept changing, HAH!

I have WAY more than 30 of these, but I had to stop somewhere! So here’s the criteria for these ones today:

I’ve read them more than 5 times since I bookmarked them

I read them start to finish, without skipping anything even though I know what happens.

That’s it. It’s just so I can keep my list down, LOL. Seriously, I love SO many fics that this list was HARD to do. Hope you enjoy!

I-J’s TOP 30 READ-AGAIN FICS (MARCH 2019)

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Fa Subito by kim47 (E, 6,659 w. || Suit Porn, Cockblocker Mycroft, Obsessed Sherlock, PWP) – John wears a suit. Sherlock finds it extremely distracting.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

The Emergency Contact Series by blueink3 (M, 11,763 w. across 2 works || 5 and 1′s, Whump, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Caring Sherlock / John, Scars) – The first time John Watson’s emergency contact is called is the first time Sherlock Holmes finds out that he has the job. The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job.

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w. | Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock’s perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock’s case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he’s pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

Tomorrow’s Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn’t simple.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w. || Fake Rel., Roadtrips, Slow Burn, Mummy Holmes) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.“Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,690 w. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

LHR-HNL by scullyseviltwin (E, 35,066 w. || Hawaiian Vacation, Post-TRF, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Just Talk Already, Drinking, Mutual Pining) – In need of an endangered flora sample, Sherlock and John must make a trip to an unexpected destination.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. ‘Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there’s a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Mary is Not Nice) – When John’s left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she’s about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w. || Magical Realism) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w. || Casefic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w. || Character Injury, Introspection) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w. || Rich Sherlock AU, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Alternate First Meeting) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family’s private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it’s time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Perdition’s Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

[radiojamming]

u should write a fic where the deputy is joseph's kid

SHE’S BACK AND SHE’S PISSED

(also this is probs just variations on a theme since i know a lot of people have done this before. this is just my take plus some background headcanons, so hopefully it’s entertaining at least!)

- - -

Ana feels like she’s about to make a huge embarrassment of herself in front of the marshal. She feels like she’s going to throw up all over his lap, and with the way he’s looking at her, she might look like that’s exactly what she’s about to do. Her stomach is rolling with nerves, and she’s probably annoying him by drumming her fingers on her knees and bouncing her feet to try to ground some of that nervous energy. Fortunately, the marshal doesn’t say anything, although Pratt peers over his shoulder and gives her a good-natured, “Christ, would you settle down?”

No, she really can’t. But she does manage to hold still long enough for the marshal to look away from her in disinterest.

She only half-listens to Whitehorse and the marshal’s conversation, because she already knows what’s at stake. If anything, she probably knows more than anyone else in the helicopter, let alone the sheriff’s department. The kicker is that no one knows that she knows, and she’d like to keep it that way for at least another half hour or so.

They slowly pass by the statue of the Father, and there’s a strange twist in Ana’s gut at seeing it practically glowing under the moonlight. They turn a sort of half circle around it, and for one poetic moment, she feels like his eyes are on her. One of his hands is outstretched, pointing upward, beckoning. Ana stares at it as long as she’s able, until he slips out of her periphery and back into the darkness.

There’s a stilted silence that follows the statue’s appearance, as though no one in the helicopter is quite sure of what to say. Ana looks at the arrest warrant in the marshal’s hands, as incriminating as plain black ink on white paper can be. Joseph’s name is printed in prominent even print, crowned with the seal of the Department of Justice. For a long while, his name is all Ana can look at, and an entire conversation with dispatch passes by, completely unheard, until Pratt speaks up again, saying something about bringing Nancy along rather than her.

It’s a joke. She knows it is. But Ana can’t help the way her head snaps up, leveling a glare with Pratt that he meets with wide, surprised eyes. There’s a strain at the corners of his mouth, and he quickly turns his head away. 

Good, because there’s no way they could have left her behind. She’s worked too damn hard to be in this exact helicopter on this exact day. 

Then, the cult’s compound comes into view as flickers of firelight and a church that’s bone-white in the silvery light of the moon. When Whitehorse gives the order to bring the helicopter down, Ana knows then more than ever that nothing in her life is going to be the same.

She’s at peace with that.

- - -

Anastasia Rook carries two photographs in her wallet at all times.

The first one is of Ana and her mom sitting on the edge of a fountain at Disney World. Her mom is exaggeratedly leaning across Ana’s lap in a swoon while Ana is caught in a laugh. Disney World was Ana’s senior trip in high school, and probably one of the happiest memories she has. 

The second one is of two people that Ana has never met; at least, has never remembered meeting. It’s a man and a woman at some kind of party, maybe a wedding judging by their clothes. The woman is in a black cocktail dress with a small string of pearls around her neck. Her dark hair has that sort of mid-90s fluff to it, as does her fire engine-red lipstick. She has this great snarky grin in the picture, holding up a pair of black high heels by the straps on one finger. Beside her is a young man with his arm around the woman’s waist. Like Ana in the Disney World picture, whoever took the photo caught him halfway through a laugh. His eyes are squeezed closed behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He’s wearing a suit with his black tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck. 

Ana doesn’t know these people, but at the same time she does. She knows that the man and woman are her biological parents; Mother and Father in a way that the people who adopted her are mom and dad. The photograph is all that’s left of the two of them, having last been carried in her mother’s wallet on the day that she died. 

She knows her mother died in a hospital in South Carolina after a car accident, because Ana also has a copy of her mother’s death certificate now tucked away in a manila folder back at Ana’s apartment. And she knows that her father never came back for her. Or if he did, he didn’t stay.

He didn’t take her home.

All that’s left of him other than a photograph is a name written in blurred typewriter font on her birth certificate. Joseph Seed, who went on to be a preacher in Georgia, who was involved in a possible kidnapping outside of Savannah, who started a new religious movement that made headlines for good reasons until suddenly they didn’t–

Who now is the Father of the Project at Eden’s Gate.

That’s who Ana’s father is, and she’s spent the last decade or so of her life trying to find him, to match the man in her photograph to the man sentenced to be arrested.

- - -

All the marshal has to say is, “Joseph Seed, you’re under arrest,” and Ana feels like her entire world has been shifted on an angle. She feels like the creaking floorboards under her feet are liable to fall out from under her at any second. It feels like a dream, facing her family that isn’t her family, because her true family is probably sleeping safe in their beds half a country away, blissfully unaware of what’s happening. 

There are two men that she knows are her uncles. She knows from vital county records that Jacob Seed is the oldest, then her father, and then John Seed. Ana doesn’t know who the woman on the right is, but she slots herself so neatly into the appearance of the family that Ana’s left to wonder what her role is. 

And then–

Her father.

Her actual, real, biological, flesh-blood-and-DNA father is standing in front of her. There’s only a fleeting resemblance to the laughing man in the photograph, but she knows it’s him. Even in the strange, smoky light of the church, even with the scars and tattoos and the massive gold aviators hiding his eyes, Ana feels it more than anything. Maybe that’s dramatic, or she’s being poetic again, but there’s absolutely something there, even if his eyes don’t light up with recognition when they fall on her. 

But she does see his brow pinch for a moment, and he lingers there, hands outstretched, watching her with this odd sort of passiveness. She gets the idea that she and the rest of the sheriff’s department are playing into something that’s been a long time coming, like a couple pawns shuffled just so on a chessboard. And har-dee-har-har, that’s rich, because of the white yarn embroidering ROOK on the patch on Ana’s chest. Switch out two consonants and a double vowel and she might be on the other side of this confrontation.

That thought weighs oddly heavy on her as she feels the cool steel of the handcuffs through her gloves. Part of her wants to just stop the whole circus right then and there, to ask the fifty questions that have been sitting on the other end of the scale in her head for the last decade. She wants to ask if her father even knew she was alive, if he even knows who she is. She wants to pull that photograph from her wallet and shove it right under those ridiculous sunglasses, showing him that she knows. She wants to tell him how she’s followed him through birth and death certificates, newspaper clippings, and articles tucked away in internet archives. 

Mostly, she wants to ask him why.

Why did he leave her in that hospital? Why did he walk away that night, leaving a dead wife and an infant daughter that he’d never get to know? Why did he leave South Carolina on one rainy night and turn up on the other side of the country in a fucking doomsday cult? 

There’s no right way to ask, and apparently no right time. Ana can’t figure out how to pause this scene where she needs it to stop, just to say, Oh! Hold up! This is my actual father and I’ve spent the past few years relentlessly hunting him down! I need to talk to him before we go hauling him off to prison.

Instead, she’s left with handcuffs dangling from her left hand, both of his hands outstretched to her like an offering.

“Cuff him, Rook,” she hears the marshal say.

There’s a pause. There is a perfect pause. She could ask half her questions in that pause.

Ana grits her teeth and reaches out, latching the cuffs shut on her father’s wrists.

[tadomodoka4-blog]

What are your favorite johnlock fics of all time?

Ohhhh.

Ohhh noo. 

Nonny you’re cruel.

Okay so funny story: 

Someone asked me this exact thing a couple years ago. 

I started a fic rec list offline at that time

Said list kept growing and growing as I decided to start sorting my fics.

It’s now a couple years later, and the list has over 300 fics on it XD.

So you see my dilemma LOL. 

I have done a few fic lists in the past along this vein:

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017 )

Ten Fave Short Johnlock Fics (Easy Reads April 2018)

25 Fave Johnlock One Shots (April 2018)

Top 10 Fave Fics (September 2018)

So what should I do today? How about the fics I ALWAYS re-read when I feel like I just need something familiar and oh so delicious? Would that be okay? Fics that I never hesitate to read again? Note that this list will probably change in a few months’ time as I re-read newer fics I’ve recently bookmarked; if I’m in a certain mood, a fic will get added and another removed, LOL. In fact, I’ve had this sitting in my drafts from quite awhile before I finally posted it, LOL. Waited a week, because my “feels” kept changing, HAH!

I have WAY more than 30 of these, but I had to stop somewhere! So here’s the criteria for these ones today:

I’ve read them more than 5 times since I bookmarked them

I read them start to finish, without skipping anything even though I know what happens.

That’s it. It’s just so I can keep my list down, LOL. Seriously, I love SO many fics that this list was HARD to do. Hope you enjoy!

I-J’s TOP 30 READ-AGAIN FICS (MARCH 2019)

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Fa Subito by kim47 (E, 6,659 w. || Suit Porn, Cockblocker Mycroft, Obsessed Sherlock, PWP) – John wears a suit. Sherlock finds it extremely distracting.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

The Emergency Contact Series by blueink3 (M, 11,763 w. across 2 works || 5 and 1′s, Whump, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Caring Sherlock / John, Scars) – The first time John Watson’s emergency contact is called is the first time Sherlock Holmes finds out that he has the job. The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job.

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w. | Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock’s perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock’s case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he’s pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

Tomorrow’s Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn’t simple.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w. || Fake Rel., Roadtrips, Slow Burn, Mummy Holmes) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.“Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,690 w. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

LHR-HNL by scullyseviltwin (E, 35,066 w. || Hawaiian Vacation, Post-TRF, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Just Talk Already, Drinking, Mutual Pining) – In need of an endangered flora sample, Sherlock and John must make a trip to an unexpected destination.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. ‘Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there’s a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Mary is Not Nice) – When John’s left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she’s about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w. || Magical Realism) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w. || Casefic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w. || Character Injury, Introspection) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w. || Rich Sherlock AU, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Alternate First Meeting) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family’s private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it’s time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Perdition’s Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

from I am to see to it that I do not lose you. https://ift.tt/2FTbxgX via IFTTT

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} Green and Grey (part 2)

Fandom:  Critical Role (Wildemount Campaign) Rating:  M Chapter Warnings: Death, car accidents, grief/mourning, drug mention Relationship:  Fjord/Caleb Widogast, Past Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf (YEAH, I CHANGED THIS ONE, DON’T JUDGE ME) Word Count:  2,786

Found here on AO3. Read from chapter 1 on AO3 here.

The long-awaited actual first chapter. (Hopefully now that the semester’s over, I’ll be able to write more and will be updating, ah, at least semi-regularly.)

If you want to follow along with the songs I get the chapter titles from, I’m making a playlist of them that will be updated as this fic updates!

__________________

Chapter 1: Come Away, Little Light

Come away, little light, come away to the laughter, Show yourself so we might live. Come away, little light, come away to the laughter, To the ones appointed to see it through. We are coming for you. We are coming for you. (“Come Away to the Water”, Glen Hansard)

Five Years Earlier

The room was dark, and it smelled like metal and cardboard and brine. It halfway comforted Fjord with its familiarity, the way it was the same scent that he woke up to and fell asleep to day after day. It was like the well-known movement of the ship, the heartbeat-sway rhythm that he’d learned to counterbalance with. It only caught you off-guard if you spent a few months on land, tripping you up and sending your legs and stomach reeling.

That was the other half – the half that filled Fjord’s lungs like he was drowning, smothering him and blanking his mind out. This was a dizziness, a head-spinning panic that was mostly induced by the man in front of him with the grey eyes and the buzzed-short gold-brown hair and the simple device clutched in his left hand.

“Don’t,” Fjord said, hands up and fingers spread as if to grab but not to hit. “Sabien, don’t. You don’t have to do this.”

“Kind of do, though.” Sabien blinked – slowly, distinctly, a motion that always drew the eyes to his face. Fjord knew well that look, that blink. He’d seen it on Sabien’s face since they were seven years old and Sabien was convincing Fjord to steal the quarters from their housemother’s wallet, lying sweetly when they were caught. “This whole shitshow’s rotten to the core. You ought to know that by now.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you should blow it up.” Sabien’s hand twitched, and Fjord froze. He had no idea how sensitive the switch Sabien held was. “Where’s the bomb, Sabien?” he asked calmly. “We can still stop this. You  can still stop this.”

“It’s one ship, Fjord,” Sabien said, tone dripping with a mockery even Fjord could recognize. “One fucking Navy ship. One fucking metal machine of death. What’s one ship, more or less?”

“Exactly,” Fjord said urgently. “What will blowing up one ship do? It won’t help. There’s a couple hundred people on here. You’ll just be killing innocents.”

“No one on this ship is innocent,” Sabien spat, and he took a step back from Fjord, further from the doorway, deeper into the shadows of the darkened room. “Every fucker on this ship deserves what I’m going to give them. Including the two of us.”

“Some of them didn’t have a choice,” Fjord said. “And what about Vandren? You gonna kill him too?”

“Vandren’s just as bad as the rest of them,” Sabien said. “You’re a fool for thinking otherwise. A fool who believes the lie that he cares about us – that he cares about you .”

Fjord flinched back as if stung. “Come on,” he said softly. “Sabien. Please. I know you. You don’t want to do this.”

For the first time, Sabien’s eyes dropped from their razor focus on Fjord’s. “I do, though,” he said. “You don’t know me, and you don’t get it. I do want to do this.” His eyes flicked back up, and for one odd, vertigo-inducing moment, Fjord thought they looked completely colorless in the darkness of the room. Colorless as a glass of water, but with nothing behind them to distort.

“Run, Fjord,” Sabien whispered. “You have to run, however you can. Sometimes this is the only way.”

Fjord saw the movement a second too late, and he could only get to the door before he heard the ear-splitting sound of an explosion.

Pain tore through his back.

He was sinking, sinking, sinking through ink-green water.

*****

The next thing Fjord remembered, he was in the hospital with no hearing in his left ear and an uncontrollable tendency to flinch and freeze at loud noises.

There were no other survivors.

 Present

Mollymauk Tealeaf’s funeral was on a cold day in November.

It was a private affair; Molly hadn’t known many people – he’d left his birth family behind long ago, and the people he’d traveled and performed with more recently. As it was, there couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen people there, only one of whom Fjord recognized, and he didn’t really feel like saying hi to her. Jester was sitting with her shoulders hunched and her knit hat pulled low over her curly hair, giving off more don’t-touch-me  vibes than Fjord could ever remember getting from her.

Maybe this was the first funeral she’d been to.

It wasn’t the first Fjord had been to, but it was the first one in a while, and he’d forgotten how goddamn much it hurt, losing someone.

You were too good for this world anyways, Molly.

The funeral was outdoors, and there was no ordained priest. Molly wouldn’t have wanted that, despite his fondness for the Catholic faith, and besides, Fjord would’ve been surprised if he’d have been allowed to be buried in a parish cemetery. He probably would’ve been annoyed by the somber atmosphere, honestly, but Fjord didn’t see there was any way around that. It was winter, and the snow made everything seem sharp and painful and also muffled, like silent tears. They’d set up a few folding chairs; they’d each said a few words that Fjord couldn’t really remember.

A quiet, skinny young man with ash-pale skin and long, dyed pink hair in a side cut – he’d introduced himself as Caduceus Clay, the groundskeeper of the graveyard – had offered them tea and said a prayer over the grave in a language Fjord didn’t recognize. Irish, maybe. It sounded a little like Molly’s slight burr.

Yasha, Molly’s best friend, hadn’t been able to stay through their makeshift ceremony. They hadn’t even known if she was going to be able to come, only just out of the hospital as she was, but she’d shown up with her arm in a sling and looking strange without her usual dark eye makeup. She’d taken one look at the grave, tombstone-less because they’d barely been able to scrape together enough money to bury him, and let out a wordless scream that made Fjord think of stormy days at sea where all he could hear were the crash of the waves and the bereft cry of sea-birds caught in winds too powerful for them, tossed through the skies until they were dashed against the surface of the ocean. She’d dropped to her knees and stayed there for a long minute, kneeling in the snow, before getting up and walking off before any of them could stop her.

Fjord couldn’t say he didn’t understand the impulse.

He shivered, bringing his hands up to his mouth so he could breathe onto them. He was wearing thick gloves, but even they didn’t completely shield his fingers from the dry, biting cold.

Another man who’d stuck around, not someone Fjord recognized, was wearing gloves as well – fingerless, threadbare. During the service, he’d been sitting next to a skinny white girl of about nineteen with a medical facemask and a shabby green hoodie. She’d been fidgeting with a Bic lighter until he put a hand over hers, and she’d stilled for a few minutes before resuming. Now she was standing near Caduceus, and her friend was at Molly’s grave.

Fjord watched as the man crouched down and started writing something with his finger in the light dusting of snow over the freshly turned, frozen earth. Part of him said he should leave the man to his own grieving, but something – whether a morbid curiosity, or an aching wish to know someone was feeling similar pain to his – made him get up from the spindly folding chair and walk over.

Mollymauk Tealeaf,  the man was writing. Shine bright, circus man.

“You knew him?”

The man’s voice was startlingly soft, rough and low and coiled with a German accent. His words sounded heavy, like drowning, like a thousand gallons of water filling your lungs and dragging you under.

Fjord would know.

“Yeah,” Fjord said, and stuffed his hands back into the pockets of his down jacket. “Roommates, actually. We, uh…” He swallowed. “Yeah. I knew him. You?”

“We were friends, I think,” the man said. He was wearing a long coat, shabby as his gloves, over several sweaters layered on top of each other. A scarf, handmade by the look of it, was wound around his neck. He had badly cut brownish-orange hair that covered his ears, and scruff that went a few days beyond a five o’clock shadow. He smelled like cigarettes and sulfur. “He was kind to me. Kinder than I deserved. He… we…” He trailed off, then shrugged.

“Well. Glad you came. He shoulda had more people here.”

“It was the least I could do for him.” The man glanced up, and his eyes were grey-blue, and they looked tired, and they looked like the ocean during a storm. “I am Caleb, by the way. Caleb Widogast.”

“Fjord.” He didn’t bother offering a last name. “Who’s the kid?”

“Her?” Caleb inclined his head towards the skinny girl. “Nott. My sister. She was friends with Mollymauk as well.”

“You know anyone else here besides her?”

“Beauregard.” Caleb gestured at the other woman, dark face twisted in grief, besides Nott and Jester. She was standing about twenty yards away, leaning against a tree. Fjord had seen her punch that tree halfway through the makeshift service, then swear and grab at her bleeding knuckles. “You?”

“Jester. The one in the tights. She’s pretty broken up.” Fjord’s eyes dropped back to Molly’s grave. “So’m I, if it comes to that.”

“He was a special person,” Caleb said softly, reaching out and resting his fingers on the snow-dusted dirt.

“Aren’t you cold?” Fjord asked. “Your hands…”

Caleb flexed his fingers. They were long, and spindly, and red. “Not too bad,” he said.

“I have gloves…”

“I’m fine.” Caleb stood, crossing his arms over his chest and burying his hands in his armpits.

Fjord was startled to realize Caleb was only a few inches shorter than he, and that not taking into account his hunched shoulders. “All right. You goin’ to the, uh… the party? Wake? Whatever it is?”

“Ah. I suppose. He would want me to.” Caleb nodded at the grave. “He wouldn’t like all this silence and sadness. He liked life.”

“He sure fuckin’ did,” Fjord said. He closed his eyes for a moment, hit by a sudden wave of pain as the realization struck him that he’d be going home to an empty apartment tonight. No Molly making a mess of the kitchen or keeping him up with his parties or stopping him before bed to do a one-card tarot reading.

No Molly.

Fjord wiped at the hot tears that managed to trickle down his face with the back of his glove. “I’m gonna miss that colorful son of a bitch,” he said.

“He was the best of us,” Caleb said, and closed his eyes, head bowed.

“Caleb?” The girl’s – Nott’s – voice, creaky and uncertain, stuttered through the snow as she slunk over. “Are you all right?”

“Maybe. Come here.” With one arm, Caleb reached out and pulled Nott into him, the two of them huddled together, now.

Fjord, not wanting to intrude, backed away. On his way back to his seat, he stopped by where Jester was sitting. “You okay?” he asked gently.

“No,” she said. Her nose was red from cold and crying. “I just… can’t believe he’s gone. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe he’s going to appear and ask why we’re all so sad.”

Fjord settled into the seat beside her, unsure of what to do, how to comfort her. She was scrunched into herself, arms twisted into a knot across her chest, tight-clad legs wound around each other. “It’s so stupid,” she continued, voice clogged. “It’s so stupid, Fjord. The world is mean.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

It was their fault.

His  fault.

It was a stupid decision, but he’d never been able to say no to Jester, and she’d wanted to go to the party so badly. One of the kids who’d been coming to her storytimes for weeks now had been adopted unexpectedly, moving away, and Jester had needed something to cheer her up. So Fjord had remembered the party he’d been invited to by a friend of a friend, and said that he hadn’t planned on going, but sure, why not? He could bring Jester.

She’d been so happy about it.

He’d never seen her so unhappy, now, not even he was driving her up from the coast that first time. Two years ago, now. She’d been twenty and the entire back of his Jeep had been packed with her bags and she’d waved to her mom until they couldn’t see her anymore, and then she’d cried for a couple miles. This was different. She couldn’t call Molly on the phone when she missed him like she could with her mom. She couldn’t write him letters like she’d told Fjord she was going to do for Kiri. No one could, where he’d gone.

And it was his fault.

Fjord was suddenly struck with a desperate need to leave. He stood up abruptly, the chair tilting back. “I gotta – head out, Jes,” he mumbled. “Gotta head home, I –”

She nodded, still staring at Molly’s grave, where Caleb and Nott were still standing, and Fjord had a feeling he should be worried about her, but. But. He couldn’t be – not right now.

He couldn’t even go to the goddamn wake, he thought as he walked, head down and barely paying attention, towards the street where he’d parked. Couldn’t even give Molly that much. He unlocked his car with shaking fingers, slipped into the driver’s seat, and closed the door behind him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and let his head tilt back to hit the headrest.

He couldn’t stay there forever, as much as he wanted to, so after a moment, he started the car, turning the heat up as high as it would go, and carefully navigated the snowy streets home. It wasn’t far. Ten minutes, maybe. They’d chosen the graveyard closest to where he’d lived. Where Fjord still lived.

The eleven minutes it took Fjord to drive the distance felt too short.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in the place since Molly’d died. He lived there – of course he’d been in it. But now Molly was in the ground, and there was a finality about that that felt different, somehow. At least Molly’s car wasn’t parked in front; it had been totaled, Fjord had been told. (It was his name on the insurance papers. Of course it was. The other option had been for Molly not to have insurance at all, and Fjord had not been about to let that happen.

Not that it mattered, in the end.)

The hallway was dark when Fjord walked in, and Fjord kept it that way. He stripped off his coat, stuffing his gloves in one of the pockets, and hung it on the hook beside the door. Headed straight for his room – or meant to.

Molly’s bedroom was right across the hall from his.

He stopped, halfway into his room. Molly’s door was still open a couple inches – he always forgot to pull it closed when he left, and the gaudy tapestry that hung on the back of it was always getting caught. Fjord could see the corner of the tapestry, now, black fabric and silver thread. He could almost imagine Molly’s sharp-fingered hand pulling back the tapestry, Molly leaning in the doorway (Molly had been a leaner; doorways, walls, people, it hadn’t mattered to him) and asking if Fjord was going to spend the entire evening in his room, or if he wanted to hang out with him instead. Fjord would smile and say he didn’t have anything better to do, and he would end up in Molly’s room, and they would listen to one of Molly’s albums – Hozier, maybe, or Saint Motel, or Liam Lynch, Molly’s record collection seemed endless – and Fjord would doze off against Molly’s shoulder, and Molly would nudge him awake because he didn’t want you to wake up with a sore neck again, you’re practically an old man, after all, Fjord.

The doorway stayed empty, of course.

Fjord would have to go through that room eventually.

Not today. Not when Molly still haunted it like a ghost, like a phantom feeling in the back of Fjord’s throat akin to the beginning of tears, like the smell of Molly that still hung heavy in the apartment (incense and marijuana and something like metal, or maybe blood), like a Molly-shaped space in the air that he couldn’t step through for fear of disappearing himself.

Not when Fjord was responsible for that empty space.

He shook his head and closed his bedroom door behind him.

[angry-ace]

I was tagged by the inspiring @barbex who's fictober challenge I am doing

Rules: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on: writing, art, gifsets, whatever.

I’m gonna tag people that are waaaaay to cool for me but who’s to stop me my anxiety probably @crunchie-morris who by the way has the BEST jackcrutchie modern au that I love with my whole heart and @your-brother-crutchie who is my go-to sprace blog both Sami and Rowan own my entire ass guys not in a sexual way but in a you’re my idol and I want to write like you way  also @one-true-houselight who’s got some pretty cute original fic stuff going, and lastly my son Thayne @king-of-newyork whom’s’t I love with my whole heart

Fuck this is gonna be long

Fanfics:

-my Jackcrutchie Mermaid au

-my newsbians fantasy au

-my hella angsty sprace au where Spot is a farmer not a newsie

-yesterday's fictober prompt that I accidentally fell asleep before finishing oops

Original fics (I'm going to be including both the works I've started and the ones that I wish to start but are currently just ideas rattling around my brain. As I was summarizing this I realized how messed up some of these are so I’m gonna give a content warning for death, abuse, body horror?, cannibalism, supernatural evils, attempted rape:

-a post apocalyptic novel about a group of teenagers who become refugees after their hometown is attacked by bandits and they end up fighting some cannibals and shit 

- currently there’s kinda an idea for a horror book in my brain about an evil ghost that preys on mentally ill people because neurotypicals find us less credible. Don’t worry the ghost gets killed in the end by a kickass lady and the sibling of one of its victims.

-  A woman is with her older sister, her niece, and her brother in law when the zombie apocalypse starts. Her parents were scientists and she was named after one of their coworkers.The brother in law is bitten and killed and the sister kills herself shortly thereafter. The protagonist is left to care for her niece. They end up in this community run by a tyrannical guy who sends the niece away against her will. She escapes and wanders alone until she’s scratched by a raccoon. The scratch gets infected but she's saved by another woman. They begin dating and find a new community that’s actually safe and good. They get word of the niece and decide to leave together to find her.

- A teenage boy with monoplegia in one of his legs caused by a spinal injury navigates the zombie apocalypse. His journey begins with his mother, infant sibling, and abusive father who escaped jail at the start of the apocalypse. He was in jail for causing the car crash that injured the protagonist by driving drunk. To escape a zombie horde the father throws the baby into the mob and the mother runs in after the baby, they both die. The protagonist is left with his abusive father who is eventually killed by a badass afab agender hero in a hotel. The hotel is overrun by the dead and they escape together. Once outside they steal a car with a key in the ignition. They drive for miles heading towards a refuge from the dead, a safe community where they can live out the rest of their lives in safety, when they hear noises coming from the trunk. They open the truck, expecting to kill a member of the undead, but are instead surprised by the presence of a kidnapped teenage girl. They drive together to the community but the protagonist is denied entrance because of his disability. The girl enters the community but the protagonist and agender badass move on. They encounter a group of other disabled people who were denied entrance to the safe haven. Notable members are a spunky autistic girl, and a deaf young woman who turns out to be the sister of the teenage girl they’d previously traveled with.

- Okay so Nina Normal is a transracial adoptee from India who is living in Kansas. She was adopted when she was a baby so she never meets her birth parents and they literally never become a plot point. She visits her uncle in his science lab and is caught in the explosion of a particle accelerator that gives her super speed. She starts fighting bigots with her best friend Maia, a Japanese teen who is an aspiring voice actress. She also attempts to dismantle Narcorp, a company responsible for selling the faulty lab equipment that caused her accident who’s goal is to cause people to get super powers so that they can have a super powered army.

-Okay so this one is an ace lesbian named Lana has a super abusive mom and also she is a princess. She’s a painter and has magic but she has dyslexia so finds it difficult to read spellbooks. There’s this army that trying to overthrow the queen and she joins them after her mom throws her out of the house after she attempts suicide. In the army she meets a girl Mary and she and Mary start dating. The queen’s army threatens to attack Mary’s army while it’s weak and Lana gives herself up to protect Mary. Lana’s mom tries to do a ritual to remove Lana’s magic for herself but it’s interrupted by Lana’s father, who she’s never met, rescuing her. Lana’s dad returns her to Mary and helps aid the overthrow of the queen. Lana and Mary have a huge fight about Lana’s mother’s execution and Lana goes to study magic in her father’s court. Lana’s dad turns out to be a dickhead, he tries to make Lana get married to a dude but obviously she doesn’t want to because she’s gay and also still hung up on Mary. The dude gets drunk and tries to rape Lana but she uses a spell to make him start throwing up and get really sick. Lana returns to Mary and helps dissolve the monarchy in her home queendom. It basically becomes a lovely anarchist commune and Mary and Lana get back together and also get married and live happily ever after.

- Okay so this one doesn’t have any humans. It takes place in a different solar system on the planet of Oceana. Oceana is almost entirely water and it has a bunch of different mermaid cultures and types of mermaids. There are polar mermaids that live in the cold areas, can survive on the ice, they have gills and tails, the way they walk is by digging their claws into the ice and dragging themselves around. The deep sea mermaids are more like angler fish, they have super great hearing and rather than speaking and doing hand motions like polar mermaids they communicate by flashing their lights. Basically the different mermaid tribes are at war and idk the mc is trying to resolve the conflict. The mermaids would be different sizes based on whatever fish they’re supposed to be.

-So there’s this evil group trying to turn people superpowered to do espionage shit idk. And they kidnap a bunch of at-risk teens to experiment on giving them powers or to study their naturally occuring powers. The kids eventually escape during an attack on the lab by a group opposing the scientists, but some of the kids got left behind. They begin working with the attackers to rescue their friends. What happened to them has some fallout on the kids like the mc’s boyfriend becomes addicted to drugs from his struggle to cope. Eventually the kids that got left behind are rescued. Some of them don’t want to keep fighting the organiation and move on. Other’s feel like their lives have purpose since they began the fight and keep at it. The one’s who moved on get roped back into it when the organization attacks a very public place and their guilt gets them involved.