#Hair fall expert doctor near me

[tiya1928]

Super specialty Hospital in Dwarka

Maharaja Agrasen Hospital is one of the best hospitals in Dwarka/Delhi, NCR. Maharaja Agrasen Hospital aims to make the most preferred Hospital brand by providing compassionate, multispecialised healthcare services hospital at Dwarka. MAH Dwarka provides all the convenient services according to the underprivileged patients with best surgeons, super specialization in treatments such as (Orthopedics, Neurology, Gynecology, Physiotherapy, Cardiology, Dermatology).

[ficfanatictrf]

The Night Stand (Part 4)

Summary : The conversation that should have happened soon (and another cliff hanger - I'M SORRY)

Warnings : An argument, cliffhanger (sorry)

Edited and proofread by nobody - just going for it!

Word Count: 2.3K

Jayce stared down at the multiple test results from the baby. Anxiety gripped deep in his stomach as he researched what all of this could mean.

He had told you so many times to not worry, to let the Doctor tell you when something needed to be done. However, that wasn’t the whole truth of it.

As he looked at the symptoms and results from the tests, matching them to what he could find in medical journals and books - he figured he was probably facing the same dilemma that the Doctor had been facing.

With a heavy sigh, allowing his head to fall into his hands as he wished he knew what to do - he didn’t notice the footsteps coming up behind him till he heard his partner’s voice from right above him.

“I wasn’t aware that you and Ms. Medarda were trying to start a family”

Bolting upright, he hastily tried to pull all the scattered tests together to try and hide it - yet Viktor’s expert fingers found one of them rather easily and snatched it off the desk before he had a chance to get rid of it.

“6 weeks old. I assume that means the night of the gala? The two of you did retire for the evening rather early” The man teased, holding the paper out of reach as Jayce went to snatch it.

Jayce could only panic as Viktor actually started to inspect the results that had been on the paper. At first, it went from a gentle smirk, it always being present when he was playfully teasing his partner, to the smirk dropping as he took in just what the recent test had found.

However, he wasn’t expecting the frown to quickly shift to near panic, being rather rough as he pushed Jayce harshly away from the other results as the smaller man was ripping through every test.

“This couldn’t possibly be Ms. Medarda. This is…” He trailed off, seeming to find the exact test that he had been looking for but hoping that he wouldn’t see.

“Jayce, I need you to be truthful with me.” He started, his eyes finally moving away from the papers before him to look over at his partner.

“Who’s test results are these?”

—----- —----- —-----

You watched as the man was soon beginning to pace before you, it was clear that he was wrestling with how he wanted to start this discussion.

You had never seen him like this before, panicked and angry, as well as many other emotions that would come and pass as it was replaced with another intense one.

And even though he opened his mouth to start speaking many times, it always closed moments later as he deemed whatever he was going to say as not the right way he wanted to start this conversation.

“…I didn’t mean to hide it from you- I just, I never knew how to tell you.”

Your voice had been but a soft whisper, but still with how Viktor immediately stopped his pacing to face you - it was the same reaction that you would have received if you had screamed.

“You should have told me the moment you knew!”

His voice raised higher than you had ever had before, yet from the break in his voice as he screamed you could tell that this was not from anger but from something else.

“The doctors here don’t know a thing about Undercity illnesses! In fact, who are you seeing?!”

A hand came up to grip at his hair, nearly pulling it out in panic as thought after thought was soon rushing through his mind. Lists were racing through his mind on what he needed to talk about next, what he needed to show you next, do next.

“Scratch that. Just - I’ll ask around, see who would be the best to talk to regarding it” He muttered, suddenly turning to head towards his own desk to open a drawer that you had hardly ever seen him using before.

In a matter of moments, the man had scooped up all the contents of the drawer and placed it onto the desks surface. Hands shuffling through everything that he had to place them into piles.

“The Undercity is not as careful when it comes to medical history, but I tried to fill in as many of the blanks in my family’s medical history as I could. This will help to screen for a few known inheritable diseases.”

Pulling out a handful of papers, he set those down on the chair beside him. Which, as he continued to speak, you slowly made your way to stand with him.

“After all, Fathers statistically pass on 50% more of their structural variants to their children than a mother does. It is likely that something from my genes is what is causing our child to be having so many medical issues…”

The hasty speed that he had been moving about before slowed to a stop, the man’s eyes seemed to become unfocused as his mind raced after a thought. You could see it, the same guilt in his eyes was there as when he talked about those in the undercity - the feeling that he was the cause of their suffering, that he wasn’t doing enough.

Yet, before you could start to try and comfort him - it would appear that Viktor pushed himself to move on.

You were surprised as he opened the drawer above the one he had emptied, pulling out bottle after bottle of different pills as well as throwing papers here and there to find the one that he was looking for.

“I did as much research as I could on the subject, creating a detailed plan on when you should take everything in this regime.” He went into detail over every single vitamin and supplement, showing that the paper he had also went into detail on why you would need to take each of these medications.

Viktor had clearly spent hours and hours on this, though it was the back of the paper that really surprised you.

His writing was cramped, clear that he had tried to fit as much information onto the sheet as he possibly could.

No cold deli meat No soft cheese Must sleep on your back No hot baths No caffeine Brush teeth more often, mother’s teeth more susceptible to plague

And on and on and on it went.

“… I haven’t explained anything the way I should have…forgive me. Let me start again.”

Viktor’s voice was soft as it pulled your eyes away from the page that you were grasping in your hands.

“ I was able to see one of the results as Jayce was looking at it. At first, I was teasing that he and Ms. Merdada would have…but the readings were far too similar to…to my own”

With but a glance, he was able to find the very two documents that he was referring to. One was clearly much older and made with a lesser quality paper and ink, worn from how many times it must have been in someone’s hands.

Yet, as he handed the documents over, you could still see how the odd trends that your child was having were identical to what you could only assume were Viktor’s own medical charts.

“F-From how old the child must be, 6 weeks at the time but we are closer to 7 weeks now. That was when…I…”

“…yes, our one night stand…”

You finished, seeing how he just wasn’t able to finish the words. Cringing at your wording, the man merely nodded before gesturing nervously at all the papers and medications that he had accumulated.

“All of this information is yours. Whatever you need from me, I’ll handle it. As well as the money-”

His eyes widened, turning to rifle through his satchel. It took but a moment, but from the small box that he pulled out - you were rather confused why this box had been linked to whatever he had been talking about.

“I looked up the general amount, with it based on income as well as…the health issues- I wanted to give as much as I thought appropriate.”

As you opened the box, you felt your heart stop.

“My calculations came to roughly a little over one hundred thousand a year. Yet, that didn’t seem to be enough to me, not for something like this. So I, well, I increased the amount to fifty thousand a month. Inside that, you will find a hundred thousand. Not only for the month and a half that has passed but also because…of my negligence and stupidity.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“I admit, that night I had been thoroughly sloshed. But that is no excuse for…you were far more intoxicated than I and I shouldn’t have…you were not able to give consent- I am to blame for all of this.”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing.

You tried to reach out for him, to watch as he quickly stepped away from your touch like it burned. All the while, he was right back to not looking you in the eyes like he had been since that night together.

“I will provide anything you need. I will provide monthly payments of fifty thousand, as well any medical costs you or the child need. As well as money for housing, if you need it - and childcare.”

“You make it sound like you plan on not being in the child’s life…”

At first, you had believed that he would deny the accusation. Yet, as the silence stretched longer and longer between the two of you- the answer was crystal clear.

“How can you just throw away your child like this?”

“You wouldn’t understand-”

“I won’t understand unless you explain it. This is your child, neither of us wanted this to be the result….but wouldn’t you want to be in their life?”

“No! No, I can hardly think of anything that could be worse.” He stressed, a hand coming up to run roughly through his hair. Yet, in your own heartbreak, you didn’t notice the way he hastily wiped away the moisture slipping down his cheeks.

“Everything will be better this way. Your life, the baby’s life…. Everything”

Did he intentionally leave himself out? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t able to ask him about the wording as he had used your moment of shock to slip from the room - escaping before he said anything more on the subject.

Before he hurt you even more.

—----- —----- —-----

Things were odd after that day.

Viktor was still rather distant when it came to talking to you directly. But you would find pages and pages of notes and letters in your desk every time you seemed to walk away for a moment.

Where Jayce was constantly making sure you weren’t physically or mentally straining yourself, Viktor was one of the worst naggers you had ever met in your life. Constantly you had notes on his review of what you had eaten, more information about pregnancies as well as questions on if you had any odd cravings.

‘No matter what you may believe in the moment, if you find yourself having the desire to ingest chalk, you must not actually eat it. My mother craved chalk for nearly three months before I was born. Father said he had to constantly check to make sure that Mother didn’t smuggle the substance.’

You adored these little stories that he shared.

And yet, he still refused to talk to you.

—----- —----- —-----

The notes and letters had only lasted for a week, the amount of them quickly tapering off till you didn’t find anything at all.

Once more Viktor wasn’t speaking a word to you.

Any information he felt he needed to send you about the baby was sent to Jayce, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of talking to you face to face.

Everything felt like it was over for you.

You hadn’t even realized it at the time, but there had been a sliver of hope that if Viktor knew then he would have at least talked to you more. That he would have claimed the child as his own, that he would have wanted to be its father.

Yet, as you packed up your things for the day, trying once more to talk to him…only for him to blatantly ignore you. The embarrassment of standing before Viktor’s desk as he continued to work like you weren’t there - the other people in the lab glancing your way with pity as Viktor didn’t even so much as glance up at you.

You felt the last bit of hope in you, finally die.

What was even the point anymore about any of this?

Silently, you slipped a small piece of paper into Jayce’s desk.

Your resignation.

You would disappear, start a new life somewhere else. The city was huge, meaning that it wouldn’t be that hard to find some hole in the wall to work. It would be you and the little one.

Your eyes moved down to your stomach, which had still not begun to show any signs - yet somehow you just knew that they were there.

A precious little being that would be with you. Someone who needed you, someone who wouldn’t push you away.

Walking back to your apartment, you had made it halfway before you felt a sharp pain starting from your stomach before shooting up the back of your spine.

A wave of fatigue hit you like a bus, finding yourself sinking to your knees as you struggled to keep your food down from the waves of nausea that were rolling through you.

Everything had happened so fast, your mind only recognizing someone’s face - a stranger, before you were being moved, before then being in a completely different location.

There was shouting, people running in and out of your area of vision, and yet you couldn’t manage to feel anything other than tired.

You were so exhausted, so sleepy.

Letting your eyes close, you could hear off in the distance someone you didn’t recognize yelling for you to stay away.

But honestly, you just didn’t want to.

—----- —----- —-----

Taglist : @piperdoodles @gabrielle-was-here @twisted-carnival-creature @cheeriecherrymain @thehistoriangirl @vmyths

[panzershrike-pretz]

Lanterns

Part 3

Disclaimer: i'm well aware that some of the characters mentioned (namely the peculiar bunch) are originally from another work, Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children. When I "made" them, I was only a child who didn't know how to do much besides very poorly made fanfic - but with time, I grew more attached to them and as I understood how to create characters, i just couldn't bring myself to abandon them; so I kept them. I changed a lot since then and they did too as mine. Please, do keep it in mind if you're familiar with the MPHFPC series - if I decided to put this as a disclaimer it's because I care. I won't stand being accused of stealing characters.

Summary: A Goddess who lost her faith, trying to get back to her senses so her family doesn't fall apart.

Warning: death threats and I think it's about it??

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop, @bucky32557038ww2, @xxluckystrike (if you want in or out, just tell me!)

-> Image below found here.

The chit chat tha filled Blithe was soothing. It was home, after all, with all it's peculiarity and strange inhabitants. The ship was old; when Athena first stole her, she was a decrept little thing, abandoned in a port somewhere along the Portuguese coast - and the Goddess made it her own.

She was the one who found every member of the crew. The one who kept them together in the beginning, before everyone truly got along - instead of wanting to kill each other.

The first members of her crew were Sirius, Hydra and Rodion. The three of them lived together in a small house; two siblings and their cousin. She didn't have a hard time convincing them to join - they eagerly wanted to leave their old lives behind. Just like that, Athena found herself with an extremely talented navigator, Sirius; a loyal boatswain, Rodion; and a good wanna-be doctor and potion expert, Hydra.

Somewhere along the line, she found Michael, a sweet Lycanthrope eager to be accepted somewhere, for once in his life. He wasn't able to turn down the position of cook.

After him, came Darty. They were a massive sight to behold; with long wavy hair and pretty eyes, a beautiful smile. They liked to sit around and play music, to keep spirits up during long days lost at sea, under the scorching sun. At night, the crew likes to sit around them, hearing their songs and dancing about, to pass time.

After that, Athena came across an interesting bunch; they called themselves Peculiars. She remembered how her crew was captured and schedule to meet the gallows - and then those kids came out of nowhere, causing a rockus that let them escape the hands (and guns) of the Royal Navy. She gadly took them in; cabin boys and girls that would bring Blithe even more life with their energy - it was different from how the Gods acted, they were mortal after all and wouldn't mind living each day to their fullest.

Hugh and Fiona where inseparable; the bee boy and flower girl. They were always together, like shadows; he was the only person with whom she'd speak, in german, and he'd gladly translate it out. Nothing could stand between them.

Then Emma, a withy, red-headed pyrocinetic girl, full of stupid courage and a big ego. She was a leader and it showed; the person who kept them together and pushed them forward during hard times.

Brownyn was like a mom. She had strenght - no, really, that was her whole thing. She prided herself in helping or protecting others and keeping her eyes on the two youngest: Claire and Olive.

Then Millard, the invisible boy, who initially followed Hydra's every step. He was a joke, really, being a walking Encyclopedia of knowledge. Sometimes, he could be found near Natasha, the light-eater, and Juni, who had an amazing hearing.

After then, came Seamus, Dean and Pangey (who dragged Peggy along, much for the dogs delight). They were somewhere in the army during World War 2 - but Athena couldn't care less for what they did.

The two last of that bunch where Horace and Enoch. Two boys who would not stop bitchin' about everything; especially cranky ol' En, who found himself adopting Olive as a younger sister and then being both adopted by Rodion as his children.

There was Wolfgang, a quiet man who ran away from prison and made his home in the middle of that strange bunch. The crew met him around the same tine they met Theodore, Archie and Toby - the trio almost never came along with the ship, but they were a part of Blithe all the same.

She only knew that when Sam stepped away from his Captain deal, he immediately found himself being the ship's Master Gunner - no one would be better suited to take care of Blithe's artillery anyway. Sometimes the crew fells like he's the one truly in charge.

Dean, Sam's own personal shadow, prided himself on his vision and precision; the man was a sniper and kept his own title when he became part of the crew. Athena felt like if the man had enough beers and guns, he could rip through basically everything - courage and dumbassery were two things he had too much of.

Last of the three, Pangey or Pangea. She kept to herself, most of the time, rarely comming out of her shell - but always there to help. When she came, Hydra wasn't all that happy to share her medical position, but the two quickly got along, like mother and daughter.

Finally, Jeremy. The Captain. The man that once tried to hang Athena was now the one who leaded her ship. She lived for the drama. Which was all she was about to get.

"ENOCH JAMES O'CONNOR, MAKE THAT THING PUT MY DOG DOWN, WILL YA?", Pangey snapped, making the First Mate look down from her crow's nest, curious, both wings open at her side; if things got out of hand, she could just sweep down and shove one of them into the icy water.

Peggy was hanging in the air, smilling and wagging her whole body, not smart enough to get that she was dangling just above the ocean. In the mouth of a monster, no less.

"Wha'? They're playin'! Look at 'er, she's lovin' it!"

"Don't you make me shove your face down a barrell of rum! Make your... thing... get off of her!" The woman was angry. Actually, it looked like it was the angrier she's ever been. And it amused Enoch. "Lis'en here, ye bri'ish shmuck, release my fucking dog or I'll gadly put a hole through your brain!"

"He doesn't have one!", Hugh laughed, getting a death glare from the boy. "What? Am I lying, Enoch?"

Enoch scoffed, trying to make it look like he wasn't offended. The thing Pangey was mad about was Pax, his not-so-little companion. It was a big monster, to be fair, whith dozens of tongues and sharp teeth, loads of eyes and a not really friendly face either - he resembled somewhat a two-headed calf. And, to make things worse, he was invisible to most people aboard Blithe, safe from Enoch himself and Athena.

It was typically a monster that'd gladly kill everyone on that ship, but Enoch was certain he had that thing under control; looking at it now, with Peggy dangling in the air, Pangey couldn't bring herself to believe him.

"Speak to it. Make it put my dog back on the ship."

"Whyyyy? He isn't hurting her!"

"ENOCH, I WILL HURT YOU!" And she was yelling again, fighting the thought of grabbing her pistol and ending him here and now. She usually hated using firearms, but carried one anyway for self-defense since the war. And she usually refrained from hirting people, but Enoch was getting on her nerves and playing with her precious baby. She was about to go ballistic.

"Enoch, listen to Pangea", Seamus said, standing against the main mast. "Don't you think you got enough threats by now, emo bitch?"

He looked over at the man, startled. He didn't think he was watching and, well, Enoch usually kept his annoyance to himself near the guy. Seamus frightened him. Finally, he decided to stop Pax's plan of maybe dumping Peggy in the ocean.

Stop. Down., was really all he needed to do for the beast to let go of Pegs, who looked very happy to be on her feet again. She looked behind her, to where she knew was her big and scary friend. Why am I back? Weren't we playing?

Pax growled, sitting and letting his tongues wander off again, messing with the dogs fur. She quickly got in a playfull stance and both of them ran off - obviously, every one of Pax's steps felt like the ship was gonna break in two.

Pangey crossed her arms, staring down at Enoch. "Don't you have anything to tell me?"

"Like what?", he shook his shoulders. "I'm not sorry for anything, it's not my fault they were playing!"

"Oh, really? Because I think that not doin' anything about my dog being held up above the icy ocean by a killing machine that only you can give instructions to is something you should be really sorry for!"

"Cut it, you two", Sam interveined again, putting himself between the two. "Enoch, fuck off, please?"

"Ugh... fine!", he stomped his way onto one of the lower decks, fumming as he went. Like a spoilled little brat.

"I can't stand him anymore", Pan let out, now focused on her friend. "We've been stuck together for too long."

"No one can stand him", corrected Sam, a little more playful. "Cheer up, it's almost Holiday season. Maybe we can light him on fire."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

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

It didn't take more than one or two days for Dean, sitting on watch, to yell about land. No one besides him could see it yet, but Sirius was happy to keep Blithe's course. She creaked as the waves hit her side, being compelled forward by the wind on her sails. She was a good ship - or, and everyone would die on this hill, the best one to ever set sail.

The bay in which she sled to was awfully familiar and as she anchored beside some small fishing boats, her crew made all the needed preparations to step on land and finally acess the damage on her side, which slowly but surely was letting enough water in that she was even more tilted to the side.

"Hmmm, this place smells so good!", Hydra was jumping up and down in place, looking at the town in front of her. It was a fishing village somewhere along the state of Amapá, just south of the French Guiana. Hydra was right about the smell; it came from the foodstands along the shore - and she was happily one of the first to make her way towards it when the gangplank was lowered.

"Alright, there's a hole on the bow and it'll need fixing. Rodion, you come with me so we can find some locals and get materials. Athena, you'll come too; we need a good enough translator", Jeremy was firm, eyeing her up so she wouldn't sneak away. "Sam, you're in charge. Get these guys working on gathering more food and water. Remember, no stealing this time; or the locals won't be of any help."

"Yes, sir!", Seamus was quick and went right to work as the three went in search of some help. He gathered the crew, assigning each of them with their tasks for the day - some would get food, others water, medicine, new blankets and cloth. He figured Fiona would be of use gathering fruits and vegetables, seeing as they were on land.

With everything sorted, he turned to supervising the deeds - apart from going up the mast to see if Brownyn was doing alright with the sails. He wasn't exactly fond of the altitude.

Lady Blithe was enormous in comparision to the other ships in the bay - and her black sails and pirate flag, with a crow's skull engraved on it, made a lot of heads turn her way, curious. That village was probably never visited by pirates, as they didn't sound any church bells to warn the people of incoming danger. Still, whatever authorities in the town where alert; it could be a trap, for all they knew.

Blithe and her crew didn't mind the stares. They were indeed strangers who didn't speak the native language, for Gods' sake. The stories told talk of bloodthirsty monsters firing cannonballs all over, burning whole cities to the ground in search of goods soon-to-be stolen. What the locals found was nothing like that.

Hydra couldn't help but notice the small little decorations here and there as she walked, not knowing anymore what was her original task. The houses had vases filled with red roses, orchids, horehounds, fire lilies and arum lilies. She smiled. Those were her flowers.

A few years ago she came to conclude that most people didn't really believe in her anymore - or on the other Gods, for that matter. They had newer, better ones. She spent so long drifting away on the sea that she was disconnected from the mortals; it was with it in mind that she made her way inside a little temple made for her.

Hydra hated her role when she was a kid. She always wanted to be normal, like her cousins - which child would like to have their career all planned out? She cursed Imbatwa, Ozymandias and all the Gods she could muster the name off. She didn't want to be know, to be important or to be some kind of role model.

What kind of Family Goddess she would be, if hers was a comically large mess? What kind of Marriage Goddess was she, if every one of her relationships ended badly? Her own child didn't really like her, so how could she be the symbol of motherhood and childbirth? It was only right for her to run away from all that and live amongst a crew of other people just as broken as her.

Some of them were also Gods who had rotten in their own minds. That was the thing that got them together in the first place. If the Goddess of Death and Feeedom, of all things, wasn't cursed to be forever chained to the ocean, nothing would be the same.

"Your Highness came to pay us a visit...? Give us your blessing...?", some old woman stood beside one of the back doors, wearing the garments of a priest. She didn't seem impressed in seeing the Goddess herself stand in the middle of her church.

She felt strange staring at the depiction of herself at the back of the temple. It was a scarlet ibis with open wings, to gladly take in those in need.

Some people would go all their lives without a single bit of recognition, while she had temples and statues and holidays made for her just because... she was born. It always felt wrong. The Godhood thing. Like it was a piece of clothing that didn't quite fit.

"Oh. I didn't see you there..." Hydra was saying, ready to go away, but she simply couldn't bring herself to.

"You are a troubled one, child"

Child? Granted that woman looked like she had some good 70 years, but Hydra was older. Why was she being called a child?

"I heard your steps and thought it was one of the villagers, not the One for whom this temple was built". She still stood there, curious as to what in the world was Hydra doing. "People usually come to me for help. What can I do for you, my Goddess?"

"Hydra. My name is Hydra. Please... please, use it."

"As you wish."

Both of them stared into each others eyes. Hydra felt compelled to start talking, but she didn't. Originally, when she was in a temple, it was to listen to others and not herself.

"We missed you, dear", the elder said as she got closer, leaning on a cane to help her stand. "We've been having a couple of rough years since you left".

Since I left to sea and started ignoring you, Hydra couldn't stop that train of thought, feeling some kind of guilt. She couldn't lie to anyone: she ran away so she didn't need to heed to her responsabilities.

"We won't blame you", the elder added, as if reading Hydra's mind. "Gods are trapped in their jobs, liking it or not. The ship in the harbor is what brings peace to you lot, isn't it?"

"Hum... yeah. She does."

"Then you shouldn't feel guilty for how us, mortals, handle ourselves."

"Are you giving me a life lesson?", Hydra inclined her head a bit.

"It depends. Do you need one?"

She didn't immediately answer, caught off guard by that priest. "How may I call you?"

"Maria de Lurdes", was the answer. "But I won't mind anything you desire to call me, my Godde- uh... Hydra."

Hydra made her way to the stained glass, depicting amazing stories that run wild. She could only make up Blithe's blurry sillouete from afar. "Why didn't you ring the bells?"

"You weren't gonna hurt us."

"How could you be so sure?" Hydra turned her head a bit, just enough to see the woman from the side of her eye. "We had sails full dressed and the flag blowing."

"Yes. The black flag, not a red one." Maria sat on one of the benches, tired. "The black Jolly Roger means lives will be spared if there's surrender... the red one, well..."

She was right. And both of them also knew that a ship so tilted it was almost rolling over was not exactly a good enough vessel to raid a village.

"Anyway, I just felt you wouldn't attack."

"What?"

"I could feel it. I'm a old woman, Miss Hydra, my gut doesn't lie." Maria smiled. "You aren't like normal pirates, are you? I can see it on your face. You guys are just like Robin Hood, right?"

Hydra liked the woman; she was quick to guess things and was almost always right. The Goddess nodded. "Yeah... just like Robin Hood... mostly."

"What will you be doing during your Holiday?"

Hydra stopped. It's been years since she last took part on any celebrations; her friends usually stayed alone partying while she took refuge anywhere quiet. This year she thought would be the same - yes, she celebrated with them the other Holidays, but her own? It was off her schedule.

Apart from her and Sirius' birthday, which she always took part - even if against her will, just for her brother -, the Night of Libero Sanctis was the only other Holiday in her name and she couldn't bring herself to participate. She had lied to herself just enough so she believed that it was a waste of her time. The New Year was better anyway and it was only some days later.

December 28th could be absolutely scrapped off of her calendar.

"I'll stay in bed. Probably reading, I don't have anything else to do", she finally said, the words hung heavy in her tongue.

"Pardon me, but that's bullshit."

"Excuse me?", Hydra turned to Maria, confused. "How so?"

"Not hoving anything else to do. That is bullshit."

The Goddess simply waited, perplexed. That woman had some guts, she had to admit. And, to be fair, Hydra really needed to be beaten with a dead cat 'till it started meowing, so she could come to her senses.

"What about your family?" Maria asked.

"I don't really think they appreciate me being alive, if I may be honest", she spoke carefully, still processing. "Actually, I believe they would be more than happy to receive a letter declaring my death on the 28th."

"Not your blood family, darling. The ship's one."

"Oh."

Hydra felt her wings become tense. Right. Maria was talking about Blithe. She felt so stupid.

"Won't you stay with them?", the elder asked. "My grandkids will come visit me. We'll have a whole celebration here in the temple... what about you?"

"Uh... I guess... it doesn't really matter...?"

"Matters, yes. It should, at the very least."

Hydra kept still as the old woman stood and very slowly made her way to the back of the temple, just to come back some time later holding something.

It was a lantern. One of those that floats when you light it on fire. It had little flame engravings on the side, along with a pretty depiction of a flower. Hydra felt a chill down her spine as she understood - Maria was giving that to her.

"My Goddess, would you be so kind as to light this lantern on your night..?", she asked, bowing her head. "If not for you, then maybe for us?"

Hydra was left speechless for a moment. Then accepted the gift.

"I'll think about it, miss Lurdes."

She turned to go, feeling like it was already late - and soon enough someone would be at her tail nagging her about not doing her assigned tasks. As she went, she heard the woman pray:

"May all the Gods stand by you."

Hydra smiled a little. They already stood - or at least the ones that really mattered to her did.

"Same for you, lady."

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

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[flyingraijin]

The MHA Boys When You Get Sick

Ft. Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Shigaraki, Dabi

Warnings: Swearing, sickness ig, fluff

Note: I wrote this in about 10 minutes because I got bored and needed something to distract me from the fact that it’s almost Monday

Katsuki Bakugou

In terms of physical care, he really knows his shit.

Makes sure you're fed, hydrated, tucked in bed and comfortable before you really even get a chance to think.

This man is an expert at keeping his body in perfect physical condition and so he knows exactly what to do when something goes wrong.

He struggles a little bit with providing for your emotional needs however.

He doesn't want to get himself sick.

If he had the choice, he's probably only come near you with a ten foot pole.

So when you're curled up in bed, nose running and asking for cuddles, he's gonna hesitate for a hot second.

He can't resist you forever though.

Although he only cuddles you under the guise of "You're so annoying when you don't shut up."

But no kissing though >:(

Absolutely not

He's probably wear a mask while he was snuggling with you

You know it's nothing against you though so you don't mind

Eijirou Kirishima

The absolute sweetest sweetheart to ever exist

"Oh no, baby, you're not feeling good? I'm so sorry, honey."

Brings you anything you could ever need.

If you're missing school, he will want to take the day off too, to look after you.

Growing up, he learned that the best medicine for sickness is sleep.

So that's what he encourages.

He doesn't mind getting sick from you, so he'll let you rest your head on his lap while he strokes your hair.

He'll talk quietly or read something or hum - anything that will help you drift off.

Even once you do fall asleep, he won't leave your side for long.

He makes sure there's water and headache meds at your bedside, and plenty of tissues.

If you have a fever, he'll keep a cool cloth on your forehead and change it the second it starts to warm up.

And once he inevitably gets sick, the roles will be reversed and you'll stay by his side and take care of him the way he did for you.

Izuku Midoriya

He has ALL the supplies.

All you need to do is text him "I'm sick" and he'll be at your door, bag of medicine, food and books in hand.

He has a whole order of business to go by.

Check your temperature.

Make sure you're drinking.

Do you need to visit a doctor? If so, he'll take you.

It'll also get to the point where you need to force him to stop rushing around.

You ask him to come sit with you and he does.

He'll hold you and just cuddle you, trying his best to keep you comfortable.

He doesn't want to smother you but knowing you're not feeling good puts him on edge.

He hates it.

When you fall asleep against him, he'll get his notebook and draw you.

You hate it because you're sure you don't look your best while you're sick but he doesn't care

You just look so peaceful, even with your skin burning with fever and bags beneath your eyes.

He's another one who won't mind getting sick.

As long as he's able to keep you happy while you’re sick, he's perfectly prepared to deal with the consequences.

Tomura Shigaraki

He'll simply stay with you.

He has no clue how to take care of someone.

Have you seen that man, he can barely take care of himself

He doesn't like touching people at the best of times (people who likes, at least)

And knowing you're already weak makes him even more hesitant.

His compromise is to sit by you while you rest.

He'll play on his switch or brood or whatever he feels like doing.

And he'll let you lean on him or cuddle against him if you want to.

While he's not the most cuddly person, when you are sick, he allows you to show your affection.

He wont reciprocate though.

He leaves the nursing to Kurogiri.

However he will hover in the doorway of your room as you're tended to.

Then he'll sneak in and sit cross legged at the end of you bed once you've fallen asleep.

Creepy as it sounds, he'll watch as you doze.

It just interests him to see you so vulnerable when usually you're so strong.

It's makes him feel soft inside.

But he'd never ever tell anyone.

Dabi

Take your meds and go to sleep.

He does not give a fuck.

But in all honesty, he's not the type to coddle.

Once he hears you're sick, he'll briefly stick his head in at your door.

"You look like shit."

He's not going to show you directly that he cares.

But he will check in with Kurogiri (who once again is the one tending to you) to ask how you're doing.

And he may or may not sneak in while you sleep to leave something at your bedside.

Not ever anything fancy.

But something that you'll know is from him.

Like a single cherry blossom.

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems Ch.8

AO3 link!

Chapter 8 – Guest Speaker

Her name was Anuja Chaudhri. She was the foremost expert on the influence of demons on culture. Her books about the history of demons and cults were famous, but not as famous as her latest, which focused on pop culture and how it had lowered the threshold for untrained summonings. It had been a real boon for the University to get her as a guest speaker. She flew in especially.

She was also, as Tyrone had mentioned, a known Twin Souls fan. That’s how she got started in her career, anyway, and she hadn’t entirely given up on those roots. Several chapters of her most famous book were entirely devoted to Alcor and how he was clearly ‘the next stage of demon evolution’.

“It's an honour to have you here, Mrs Chaudhri," Hicks said, offering the greying woman a glass of water in his office. "I know the students are eager to hear your presentation."

"No, the honour is all mine," she smiled. "The opportunity to mould those bright little minds of the next generation of demonologists is a reward in itself."

Thomas tried not to take it personally, the way she smiled at him while she said that. Compared to her he was barely an adult, probably. Despite all his complaints about the grey hairs Tyrone caused, he knew he looked younger than his age.

"The presentation will take an hour," she went on. "I start at half past ten?"

"Yes, then we'll introduce you. The students will be already assembled in the auditorium. Afterwards we have a small lunch planned with the rest of the faculty."

"Yes," Thomas said. Met Hicks' eyes, somewhat apologetic. "About that. Would you be amenable to extending your presentation with a debate? Another, ah, expert in the field heard about your presence here and wishes to add their own two cents. So to speak."

"That is highly unusual," she said, blinking. “Who are you speaking of?”

“He introduced himself as Ronny Vandenne.” Thomas just barely avoided rolling his eyes when he corrected: “Doctor Ronny Vandenne.”

Hicks seemed to be close to facepalming.

Mrs Chaudhri looked puzzled. “The name is not familiar to me.”

"It isn’t? I do hope you'll agree," Thomas went on. "He's a self-proclaimed expert on Alcorian myth, and he is very eager to pick your brains in a well-meaning debate."

"Ha! I see," Chaudhri said. Her dark eyes twinkled. "This would not be the first stuck-up old man that wants to put me in my place. Yes, let us debate. I will look forward to it."

Hicks’s frown towards Thomas was just barely not an all-out glare. "Please don't feel pressured, Mrs Chaudhri, it is very bad manners of us to surprise you with this. Feel free to deny Thomas's – and Doctor Vandenne’s -  request."

“Sir,” Thomas said, but Chaudhri was smiling.

“It is no bother, truly,” she said. “I have learned from my previous talking engagements. When the moment to ask questions arrives, the students usually fall silent. It will be good to have some proper questions from a fellow expert. The children will learn much from this.”

Yes. That’s what Thomas was afraid of.

----------

The auditorium was filled with all four years of demonology students, as was standard practice for guest speakers. Most of it was taken up by the first years, of course – then the amount of students petered off, year by year, until they got to the five current ‘chosen ones’ of the master year. Hicks taught the last year by himself – less chance of Tyrone interfering with the practical summonings. 

Thomas had his hands full with the younger years anyway. Young and stupid, and way too eager to summon a demon for little things. Had he and his friends ever been like that?

At least the decrease in students was caused by them dropping out instead of bloody murder. It was a point of pride for Thomas that since he and Tyrone had joined the university staff, the amount of deadly demon-related accidents among first year demonology students had decreased to near zero.

Thomas looked at his students and felt a pang of nostalgia for his own student days. They hadn’t been perfect. Stressful, at times, but… it felt different. The glasses of nostalgia made all the colours brighter, he supposed. Things had been less complicated, in a way, when it was just him and the gang.

Complicated wasn’t bad, he reminded himself. He had Elisha now, and a future full of exciting plans and challenges to tackle. And without having to lose anything, no matter how Tyrone complained about barely ever seeing them. 

Tomorrow was the first day he’d bartered away to Tyrone, and they were going to spend it watching pre-Transcendence movies with all their friends. Honestly, Thomas couldn’t complain.

Today was going to be painful, however. First he had to see Tyrone completely humiliate their guest speaker, and then… the first experiment. A first possession, to establish a baseline and become familiar with the process. What did it say about him, that he voluntarily chose to do this? 

Thomas watched as Hicks introduced Anuja Chaudhri to the students, and then with a lot less enthusiasm, ‘Doctor Ronny Vandenne’, who was just Tyrone with a long white beard, bushy eyebrows, and a glaring lack of fashion sense.

Did any of the students recognise him? If so, they didn’t show it. But it was always tough to get any reaction from them before noon. Students were chronically sleep-deprived.

Chaudhri started with a short overview of demons in ancient folklore from all around the world. For the third and fourth years this was nothing they hadn’t seen in their History courses, but even they listened attentively. Chaudhri had a way with words, Thomas had to admit. Her voice painted a vivid picture – the mystery and the magic, hidden in a world that was all technology, only appearing in small glimmers and rumours. Trapped inside stories and myths. 

“Then… the Transcendence,” she said, with a wide gesture – poof! “Suddenly magic was everywhere, no longer hidden or weak. The veil between worlds ripped to pieces. Only for a moment, but long enough to have lasting consequences.”

“That’s just the story of the Transcendence, that’s nothing new,” ‘Doctor Vandenne’ interrupted her, with a dismissive wave. “These students already know all that. Are you getting to a point, or what? Respectfully.”

Shapeshifting must be grand, Thomas thought. You could act like a total ass and then just change your face so there was no one to be blamed. 

"I do, Doctor Vandenne," Chaudhri said, moving her gaze to the assembled students. "I was originally planning to tell you all about my previous books, and how intertwined demons and their cults have become with several worldwide cultures. None as much as Alcor the Dreambender, who does not only have several distinct cults praising him, but who also appears in many pieces of media. Books or shows about demons are standard fare, and I am sure all of you can tell me at least four or five different movies or books about him."

"Twin Souls," the first student she pointed at blurted out. She blushed at the looks she got from her fellow students. "It's popular, okay?"

Tyrone, Thomas was glad to see, was cringing. This deal wasn't working out so well for him, was it? 

"Princess Mizar," another student offered. "And it's many remakes."

"Yes, good. What else?"

"A Hundred Shades of Gold?"

"The Demon Diaries."

"The Woodsman and the Hunt? It's a fairytale, does that count?"

“Mizar the Magnificent!”

"There are more, of course," Chaudhri smiled. "And usually I would focus my presentation on dissecting those stories and finding the common myths underneath. But today I'd like to do something different. I want to tell you about my current research."

“Let me guess, it’s about Alcor,” Tyrone said.

“It is,” Chaudhri said. “You are an expert on Alcorian lore, yes?” 

“You could say I’m familiar, yeah.”

“Then you will agree there is little known about his origins. It’s an intriguing topic I am working on. I have found sources that may be new to you as well.”

“I highly doubt that. But, sure, continue.”

The smile she sent towards Tyrone was mild as milk, and exactly as opaque. "As I mentioned, demons only left the vaguest impression on mainstream culture pre-Transcendence. Those who did are all very localised, contained within a single region or culture. Usually in the form of stories, nothing concrete to prove they truly existed. The ones that we do have proof of were small and rarely seen. Except for one. Traces of him have been found all over the world, on all continents. Wood carvings, stone statues, paintings - even on currency. Until the Transcendence happened. Afterwards... nothing."

Thomas had been reading up on demons every opportunity he got, first because he was a kid with a dumb obsession and later because his grades depended on it. Of course he'd extensively read everything about the Alcorian Myth he could get his hands on, no matter how contradictory. 

Most experts agreed that Alcor was ancient and had simply been less powerful and less likely to answer summonings before the Transcendence. A few said Alcor had actually been born during that world-changing event. There was very little known about the way demons procreated, so maybe they were on to something.

The face behind 'Ronny‘s’ beard and eyebrows had paled as Chaudhri spoke. Thomas frowned. What was the matter? 

"It's an interesting puzzle," Chaudhri went on, and put on the next slide of her slideshow. A one-eyed triangle with outstretched, spindly arms and legs gazed over the assembled students. It looked suspiciously like Alcor's symbol. Brothers, maybe? Could demons have family ties?

"Bill Cipher," Tyrone said. Not in the voice he had been using for 'Ronny Vandenne'. Something deeper. Colder.

Chaudhri awarded him with another smile, almost proud now. "You recognize the symbol? It's an unfortunately neglected field of study, pre-Transcendence demonology. Difficult to find trustworthy sources."

"I bet." Something was wrong with Tyrone. He had stopped blinking. "Where did you find this?"

"The trails were all over the world, as I mentioned. Buried in museums and in personal collections. The bulk of the research comes from Gravity Falls, which played a key part in the Transcendence." She put on the next slides, which were old pictures of a small town surrounded by trees. Houses, more trees, a decrepit looking shack, more houses, a town map. 

Gravity Falls. The place where the first mentions of Alcor popped up, Thomas mused. Which only happened post-Transcendence... and their symbols were so very similar. Huh. Could they be one and the same? It wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for demons to rebrand as something else. They'd lose all influence from their former name, of course, but it hadn't put a crimp in Alcor's style at all.

Tyrone shook his head. "You shouldn't research Bill. Just do͘n't̴."The faintest hint of reverb lingered in his voice. 

Oof. Thomas hoped no one else had noticed. He met Hicks’ eyes. This presentation was going off the rails, and not in the way he had expected. Time to cut in? 

Hicks got the message and cleared his throat. “Mrs Chaudhri, excuse me. This is very fascinating, but we’re running a bit late. Could you perhaps move on to your next topic?”

Chaudhri frowned, then looked at the clock. “I see. I would not want to keep all these hungry students from their lunch. Very well. We need to set some time aside for the debate between Doctor Vandenne and me, after all.”

But Tyrone was already getting up from his chair. “No debate,” he said, and left.

-----

“Shouldn’t you be having lunch with your guest?” Tyrone muttered, as Thomas picked his way through the messy room. Papers were thrown everywhere, as in a freak indoor cyclone. It was going to be a pain putting them in order again.

“Hicks can handle that on his own,” Thomas said. He sat down next to Tyrone. “I’m sorry your end of the deal wasn’t as fun as you hoped.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fine, I wasn’t exactly rooting for you to embarrass our world-famous guest speaker,” Thomas admitted. He opened his bag and extracted the wrapped sandwiches from it. Hicks and Chaudhri would be in a nice restaurant by now. Vending machine sandwiches were horrible in either case, but when compared to what he could have been eating…  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care if she upset you. Somehow?”

His fishing for information wasn’t subtle enough. Tyrone avoided his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Thomas said. He offered Tyrone one of the sandwiches. “But when you do, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks.” Tyrone finally uncurled from his moping position long enough to take the sandwich. His eyes were gazing at something on the far wall – or the past, maybe. “It hasn’t been that long ago. Only a couple hundred years. Yet so much has been forgotten. And other things should have stayed forgotten.”

“Is her research dangerous to you?”

Tyrone didn’t answer immediately, and that was worrying enough. “I don’t know. It could be. Don’t look further into it, Thomas. Please.”

“I won’t, but… you’re Alcor, you can quietly convince her to change research topics, can’t you?”

“Yeah, and I’m going to. Ugh. Why couldn’t she just have talked about Twin Souls for an hour?” Tyrone moaned. “I had so many annoying things planned!”

“You’ll get your chance next time.”

“Oh, I will.”

-----

Her flight wouldn’t leave for hours yet. She had time until morning. Time enough for this.

She turned off all electronic devices in her hotel room. Fished around for the marker in her purse. The hotel room was carpeted, but the mirror would do. With eager anticipation she drew the symbol on its flat surface, and whispered the summoning invocation. The one given especially to her, in a hazy dream full of soft meadows and glinting golden eyes. Exactly like she had always hoped, as a younger girl.

Golden eyes watched her now, her reflection rippling into the familiar guise of the Dreambender himself. 

“Anuja, my love,” he greeted her, in her own language. His mouth spread in a wide, close-lipped smile. He put a hand against the mirror surface, and she followed his example, imagining she could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin layer of glass. “Has your day gone well?”

“It has,” she said, and marvelled at his presence here, his endearments for her. She was not as young as she once was, but he didn’t care about that. He was what she always imagined him to be – caring and kind. Her angel in a demon’s skin. “It went exactly as you said it would. Someone did try to interrupt my presentation. They left when I changed the subject to Gravity Falls and Cipher, like you predicted might happen.”

“I am omniscient after all. Good old Bill, he threw the wildest parties,” he said, with a glint of sharp teeth. “But you know how I love the sound of your voice. Please, tell me everything. The one who tried to disrupt your presentation, I’m very curious who would do something so rude. Was he very upset? What did he say? Leave no detail out, my sweet Anuja.”

She didn’t, talking until she was hoarse. When she fell silent at the end of her story, he smiled down on her, eyes burning.

“Well done,” he said. Her head was spinning. The golden fire of his eyes filled her thoughts with promise. He looked from her lips to her eyes and back again, meaningfully. “I’m so proud of you, my beloved. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been. Now, there is one more thing you could help me with.”

“Anything,” she said, breathlessly. 

“I was hoping you would say that,” he said, smiling like a dagger. He reached through the mirror, and swallowed her screams.

Afterwards, there was only the hotel room, thick with the scent of blood and sulphur. 

He paused in admiring his handiwork, and made a gesture, erasing some key parts of the remaining sigils on the mirror. Then the summoning power ran out, and he popped away again.

A one-eyed star remained behind, gazing blindly at a room full of carnage.

[edupunkn00b]

Revisions, Ch. 23: Amnesia

Prev - Amnesia - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Tags: Human AU, Pining, Mutual Pining, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Slow Burn, Hanakahi Disease, Amneisa, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Remus likes to swear- WC: 1969 Logan Sanders writes Star Trek Fanfiction

“Doctor?” Lewis Zimmerman scowled as he looked up from the datapad in his hand. He bit into his apple and squinted at his unexpected visitor. “Captain Data,” he said, chewing. He took another bite, waiting for the android to say more. Giving up, he swallowed and gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?” “With Dr. Soong’s passing, you are now the preeminent expert in humanoid artificial intelligence.” Data began, posture stiff. “Oh?” Dr. Zimmerman dropped his apple on a stack of datapads and leaned forward in his chair, peering at Data as though he was fixed to a specimen slide. “Are you here for yourself, then? Are you malfunctioning? Looking for an upgrade?” He stood, practically salivating as his eyes fell on the seam in Data’s hair under which hid the access hatch for his primary positronic processors. A smile spread across Zimmerman’s face. It wasn't a pleasant smile. “Are you finally here to take me up on my offer?” Data leaned away from Dr. Zimmerman, sitting taller in his seat. “No, Doctor.” He blinked twice. “I am here to request a selective memory wipe.”

“Hm, interesting…” Zimmerman sat on the corner of his desk and rubbed at his chin, tilting his head as he watched Data’s blinking algorithm. “I can see how agitated you are about this request.” Leaping up, he clapped his hands excitedly. “I accept! When are you available for the procedure?” He swung around to the other side of his desk and tapped at his main terminal. “I can free up two weeks starting on…” He squinted at the screen. “Starting tomorrow.” “That would be acceptable, Doctor.” Data’s posture relaxed, leaning toward his backrest 0.24 degrees. Zimmerman narrowed his eyes at the movement and made a note on a datapad. “I am on shore leave for the next month while the Ghez is retrofitted with new transwarp engines after we had to jettison our core last month.” “Excellent! I will need some time to prepare the algorithm.” Zimmerman tapped at this computer controls for several minutes. “You mentioned this is a selective memory wipe. What precisely are you trying to erase?” “Not what, Doctor. Who.” Dr. Zimmerman looked up from his computer, his scowl returning. “Wh

Logan shoved his computer away as he was seized by another fit of coughing. Pushing his chair back, he leaned forward, fighting to get enough breath to cough up the flower caught in his throat. His ears filled with static and stars danced before his eyes as he struggled to breath past the obstruction.

He tumbled from his chair, landing on his hands and knees in front of his desk. His coughing had stopped, replaced by a high-pitched wheeze. The medicine. He needed the serum. He fumbled blindly at the desk drawer, the edges of his vision darkening.

Finally, he forced enough air into his lungs to cough again, and his hacking covered the sound of his door slamming open. Two frantic voices, speaking to him and to each other. Two pairs of warm hands on his back, his shoulders, rubbing and patting. He finally coughed up the flower and collapsed into a pair of waiting arms.

~~~~~

When Logan next opened his eyes, thin sunlight streamed through the window. A humidifier bubbled near his head, the cool mist falling gently over his face. He blinked at the ceiling, rubbing his eyes, finally reaching for his eyeglasses and sliding them into place. He stared at his clock, willing the numbers to come into focus.

7:36

He jolted upright, flinging the covers off his legs and twisting out of the bed. He landed on the floor with a small thud. For a moment, his sleep-fuzzed mind tried to figure out what he was doing in bed—wasn’t I finishing that chapter?—but he shook away irrelevant thoughts and hurried to his closet. He ripped off his pajamas—when did I even put these on?—and dressed in the first shirt, tie, and slacks his hands touched.

There was something to be said for sticking to a near monochromatic color palette.

Yanking on his socks, he stumbled about the room. He caught a glimpse of his reflection and drug his fingers through his hair—good enough—and snatched up his laptop and charger, shoving it all into his bag. Coughing into his elbow, he grabbed a few tissues and raced out the door.

As he started down the stairs, he faintly heard Janus and Remus’ door opening. He’d just hit the first floor landing when Janus’ voice called after him, “Lo? Have you forgotten? You’re sick. Where are you going?”

“I’ve—” Interrupted by another cough, Logan tried to stifle the next, hoping to prevent a full-on fit. “I’m late… I need to go.” He called back past another cough, “See you tonight!”

~~~~~

Later that evening, Logan stumbled up the porch steps. Before he’d even pulled his keys from his pocket, the door swung open, Janus and Remus standing on the threshold. “Oh… Thank you…” He stepped inside, panting lightly.

Remus was silent, his mouth tight and eyebrows knit together. He crossed his arms in front of himself and his leg shook, looking between Janus and Logan. Janus rubbed his shoulder, then drew Logan inside the house. “My dear Logan, why did you go to work when you were so sick?”

“I… we’re so close to… to the midterms, I…” He set down his bag and leaned against the wall as he toed off his shoes. “My students—”

“Don’t you fucking care that you’re gonna get your students sick?” Remus burst out, his eyes glistening in the dim hallway. “If you don’t care enough about yourself, at least care about them.”

Logan shook his head. “My doctor has… has assured me… not contagious—” His words were cut off by harsh coughing. He waved the couple off when they drew closer, concern pinching their faces, then bent over, coughing into his elbow as he fumbled for a package of tissues. Janus took the package and pulled one free, quickly opening it and pressing it into Logan’s hand.

He coughed into the tissue, crumpled it, and shoved it into his pocket. “Thank you,” he muttered between labored breaths. “Doctor says… allergies.” He leaned against the wall, gradually catching his breath.

“Allergies?” Remus snapped, his own voice choked. “Are you allergic to flowers?”

“Muse,” Janus’s voice was low as he laid his hand on Remus’ shoulder.

Roughly shaking off his hand, Remus glared at both of them. “No, Jannie, fuck it! You saw what I did last night!” He crossed his arms again and stared at Logan. “You’re coughing up flowers, Lo. What the fuck is going on? That’s not normal!”

Logan somehow grew paler and shrunk away from the pair. “Y—you two saw that?”

Gently rubbing Remus’ back, Janus stepped closer to both of them. “Yes, Lo, we saw. We heard you choking and came in. You…”

“We thought you were dying, Lo Lo,” his anger finally dissolving in tears, Remus flung himself at Logan and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I—” Logan’s breath caught in his throat, but it had nothing to do with his coughing. “I… I assure you, I… I am fine.” He closed his eyes and hugged Remus back, arms drawn tight around his waist. He let his head fall forward, resting on Remus’ shoulder with a stuttered sigh. “I simply need to rest.”

“Will you let us help you into bed?” Janus asked, stroking Logan’s head. He nodded against Remus’ shoulder. “Muse, would you bring Lo upstairs while I make some tea? And maybe some soup?”

“‘Course, Jannie.” Remus rubbed Logan’s back. “How does that sound to you, Lo Lo?”

Logan panted against him. “Both… sound nice.” He clung to Remus’ back as they slowly made their way upstairs, pausing twice when Logan had to cough. By the time Remus had helped Logan remove his tie and turned his back while he changed into a long-sleeved thermal and joggers, Janus was coming up the stairs with a tray.

Remus took the tray and set it on the desk, then refilled the humidifier and turned the switch to high. Janus arranged Logan’s pillows so he could comfortably sit while he drank his tea and had at least something to eat before trying to sleep.

“You… you do not need to…” Logan smiled weakly as Janus drew up his covers, smoothing them down before Remus placed the tray next to him. “Wait on me…”

“It is our pleasure, Lo,” Janus said, reaching for Logan’s cup and pressing it into his hands.

Remus dragged Logan’s desk chair to the side of his bed and turned it around before sitting on it backwards and patting Logan’s leg over the blankets. “Yeah, Lo Lo. What else are friends for?”

Logan looked down at his tea and nodded. He took another sip before speaking. “I appreciate it.” He swallowed hard. “Very much.”

The three sat in silence for several minutes. Remus’ knee bounced as he and Janus exchanged a few pointed glances, with the latter subtly shaking his head before Remus finally blurted out, “So what’s with the flowers, Lo Lo?”

Setting down his cup, Logan looked away. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s rather… unpleasant.”

“That’s not an answer, Lo Lo.” Remus raised an eyebrow as his knee rubbed against the side of the bed.

“They’re fr—from a… homeopathic t—treatment my doctor suggested,” Logan stuttered out. “My stomach… doesn’t agree with it.”

“Homeopathy?” Janus said, eyebrow cocked.

Logan nodded and sipped more of his tea. He eyed the soup, wondering whether it was safer to try to keep the bowl on the tray rather than risk spilling the entire thing if—when—another coughing fit struck him.

“Trying to keep an open mind,” Logan said at last, holding a napkin under his spoon as he tried a bit of the soup. He winced as his stomach clenched at the first food he’d had since early the night before. His eyes flicked over to his top desk drawer. Maybe it would be worth it to take the next dose a little early?

“How’s it working?” Remus asked, giving his leg a gentle poke.

Logan shrugged, looking around the room.

They fell quiet again as Logan finished his soup and tea between coughing jags. Janus sat near the foot of the bed, gently stroking Logan’s shin over the blankets. Remus rocked back and forth, humming. Logan glanced at him with a little smile when he recognized the chorus to Lean On Me.

Eventually, Logan’s eyes grew droopy and his coughing seemed to ease. Remus tucked a lock of Logan’s hair behind his ear. “We should let you sleep, Lo Lo.”

Nodding drowsily, Logan settled against the pillows. Sitting upright seemed to lessen his cough and he wanted to try the position for sleep. He removed his glasses, smiling a silent thanks when Remus took the frames and folded them, setting them next to the humidifier and a glass of water.

“‘Night, Lo Lo,” he said, moving Logan’s chair back to his desk.

Janus reached over and took the tray. “Remember, we're here if you need anything, Lo.” Balancing the tray against his hip, he squeezed Logan’s hand and met his eyes. “Anything.”

Logan nodded again, “Thank you both.” then closed his eyes against his stinging tears. “You’re both amazing.”

“We’re not half of what you deserve, Lo.” Janus whispered, stroking his hand one more time, then followed Remus out of the room, easing the door shut behind them.

Janus set the tray down on the floor and wrapped his arms around Remus, drawing him close as he started to shake. “He’s lying,” Remus said, his muffled voice breaking as he buried his face in Janus’ neck.

“I know.”

taglist: @mavenmush @melaniidarling @braingobur @lunatatic @demon9980 @crossiantgay @psychedelicships @justmeandmygayships @ts-creator-boost @bluerosesbleedred @tsfanficarchive @tsshipmonth2020

[heliosthegriffin]

The Adventures of Shota Jaune

Arthur Arc always knew his son was going to be special, it had been seven daughters straight that the Brothers had given him, he was due for a son. Good things come to those who hold strong and have faith.

His son would be amazing.

It was a given!

He didn’t expect how right he was.

How was he suppose to know his son would come out of the womb glowing like a disco ball!

The nurses were running around, his wife was crying, and Arthur had dick all of an idea what was going on.

Arthur winced has the doctor doctor cradled his broken hand while being escorted out of the room, all Arthur had seen was a flash of light and a cry of pain, before a nurse caught his falling son.

Now Arthur held his glowing baby boy as his wife was being loaded up with Morphine wanting to now what’s wrong with her baby.

Shit’s fucked.

Arthur looked at his baby boy.

“Your name is Jaune Arc,” The baby slept in his arms. “you’re going to be a trouble maker aren’t you? Well, that’s fine, we have plenty of trouble makers in the family. You’re going to fit right in.”

And so the Arcs were once again black-listed from another hospital, and Baby Jaune Arc had already broken a man’s hand.

-----------

Four year’s Later....

Arthur walked groggily to his son’s room, light bleeding from underneath the door.

It was midnight he should be asleep.

His son’s giggling told him otherwise.

He opened the door and called out to him. “Jaune, it’s midnight. Why did you turn your lights on?”

His son turn his head to him looking embarrassed as several floating orbs of light rotated around him.

Arthur felt his jaw drop. When could he do that?!

“Sorry, I just couldn’t sleep. I’ll go to bed soon.”

Arthur felt the words on in one ear and out the other, had his son found his semblance? 

“Jaune, what are those lights?” Arthur said weakly to his son.

Jaune looked confused for a moment looking around. “I didn’t turn on lights, though,” Then his expression brightened, literally as a orb went pass his face. “Oh that! You said I could have lights on at bedtime, and sometimes I got scared, so my Orra would make me flashy flash, but that just made more shadows. So, I tried to to make my Orra bigger, but it wouldn’t so I tried to make it move over the shadows, and it did!”

Arthur watched in fascination as the globes orbited around his son. His son really was special. This was beyond basic Aura manipulation, this was beyond anything an expert could do. Darkness be damned, even Arthur himself prided himself on his aura control couldn’t doing anything half as intricate as this!

“How did you get it to move like that? Your Aura that is?” Curiosity bled into his voice. It stung his pride a little bit to ask his son tips on Aura manipulation, but his pride as a father and his own want to know how won out.

Jaune looked at his father confused. “I just did?”

Arthur looked at his son patiently. “Could you show me how to then?”

“Um, ok.” His son said reluctantly. 

Arthur watched his son carefully, activating his aura and having it circulated into his eyes to be able to see his son on a auric level.

Arthur flinched back in shock and nearly blind.

His son had so much damn aura! It was like looking at the freaking sun at high noon.

Arthur could barely even see his son’s figure through the light, a barely visible shadow in the midst of a bonfire of pure white light that danced and waved on currents that could not be understood even by a expert like himself. Light filled the room and a revelation hit Arthur. He himself was under his son’s aura, the entire damn house was!

Even outside the room he could see the currents of his son’s brilliant aura circulating around the house and even leaking into the wood and stone! He was reinforcing the house, and it was even being absorbed into his own aura and he hadn’t even noticed.

His son had been subconsciously leaking aura and he hadn’t notice at all! It was so invasive and overwhelmingly aggressive, but deviously subtle that it took a hold on everything it was near.

His son was a walking talking breathing, Aura reactor. No wonder he lit like a disco-ball when he was born, no wonder he fired off the occasional flare of aura, no wonder his all of his sister had awakened their aura, no wonder the fucking cat did too!

His son was enhancing everything around him, Arthur himself hadn’t even questioned why his own reserves had enlarged, his son did it.

It was a open knowledge that reserves just increase with time and practice, but his had nearly doubled over the last four years.

Arthur shut down his Aura Sight, any more and it might give him damage his control.

Arthur no longer needed an explanation as to why his son could create light-balls. It was easy enough explanation to himself, he was just separating dense sections of aura and have them follow the auric currents he created.

Arthur knew what he had to do now, his wife was going to kill him for it, but Jaune not mastering his talents would be the graver sin.

“Jaune do you want to be a huntsmen like your dad?”

Arthur frantically cover his eyes as his son squealed and flash-banged him with happiness.

Even through his aura he could feel a sun-burn, well aura-burn, forming.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

-----------

One year later....

Arthur’s eye’s twitched as his wife tried to get his son off the hill he made out of his sisters unconscious bodys.

“Jaune, please come down, they’re your sisters.” Victoria said trying to coax they son down.

“NO!” Jaune said with a stomp, pained groan coming from the sisters. “They’re mean and tried put me in a dress again!”

“They’re doing that because they love you and want to see how cute you’d look!”

Jaune groaned. “You’re in on it too!” He said with another stomp.

“Oww,” Another groan came from the pile.

“No, Jaune I just want to see my little man look pretty!”

“I don’t wanna be pretty I wanna be man’y man!”

“You can be a manly man,” A gleam came to his wife's eyes and Arthur groaned. “After you wear this dress!” Victoria said pulling out a dress and lunging at her son.

Arthur shook his head as his wife and only son tussled. “Jaune I’ll be waiting in the backyard when you want to practice.”

“No, Jaune no! Don’t use the back-breaker aaagggh!”

“NO, Jaune don’t suplex me into your sisters! Aggh!”

--------

One year later.

Arthur watched his son play in the parks playground, a nice day with a clear blue sky and a cool breeze that would come around with a the pleasant smell of evergreens and the clean lake in the park, Arthur taking a moment to admire the small waves going across the water to lap at the beaches edge.

Ah, it couldn’t get more relaxing than this.

‘Shink-Break.’

He hated when he was right. He had run across the park as fast as possible to stop the blade from hitting his son.

He really shouldn’t have bother though, as Jaune grasped a broken pocket knife blade in his hands.

An absolutely tiny little thing was holding the other end, a horrifically skinny child with brown, pink, and white hair was trembling as Jaune held her in the air.

Arthur nearly gagged in disgust as got within ten feet of the children.

The smell was nose-burning and made his eye’s water in pain.

Still though Arthur look at the child his son was holding in pity. The poor thing could have been much older than his son but probably didn’t come up above three feet, they were dress in what might have been clothes at one point but had been caked in so much filth, dirt, and grime that they might as well been wearing rags.

So skinny, so damn skinny.

Arthur grimaced at the sight, the child was on the verge of starvation. A fire then lit in his belly, if he ever got his hands on whoever left a child like this he would swear on his word to kill them, no excuses, he was a huntsman he had enough sway that he could get away with it.

“Jaune, what happened? Also, put the child down.”

Jaune shrugged. “Can’t if I do she’ll do her shiny thing and disappear again.”

“Her shiny thing? Does she have an Aura Jaune?”

“Yeah, an sembence.”

“Semblance, yeah. So, could you give her to me, so that we could talk about how this happened?”

Jaune shrugged and handed the child to him, who started thrashing violently as they were being handed over, then Jaune stopped and hugged her, even as they were thrashing, her broken knife chipping at his aura.

“Actually, dad, I think I’ll hold onto her.” Arthur sighed with pity, and nodded his head. It was probably better that she didn’t get pasted around it might give them a panic attack.

“That’s fine, so what went on for this to happen?”

Jaune started rocking the child in his lap, even as they stabbed at him, but the fight quickly left them. 

“Well, I was playing, and I got tumbie rumbles, and went to get an ice-cream, then my ice-cream went gone, and I was not happy, then I did a ohra thing, and could see that she was eating my ice-cream.” Jaune took a breath and Arthur absorbed the information.

“So, I ask her why she stole my ice cream and why she’s so smelly, she got mad, well actually she got scared, an tried to punch me, then when she hurt her hand she disappeared, so I tried to find her again, then I picked her up and she tried to stib me.”

Arthur nodded and sighed again. He got on the ground and looked at the child, he gave the friendliest smile he had.

“Hi, I’m Arthur and this is my son, Jaune. What’s your name?”

The child looked away.

Arthur frowned for a second before trying again. “Do you have any parents? Or a guardian? Could you bring them to us, or have them come here?”

‘So that I can beat them to death with my bare hands.’ Arthur thought. 

The child said nothing.

“Are you hungry? We can get you some food? You want to go get some food?”

The child still said nothing, but there was a slight tremble to them now.

“Hey dad, um.” His son said. “There’s a thing, on her, It don’t look so good?” Jaune said pointing at the girls neck.

Arthur leaned in closer and recoiled immediately.

A black leaking smile was gashed across her neck leaking white and yellow pus.

“We’re going to the doctor, immediately!”

-------

Two months later.

Arthur smiled as his newest daughter was following son around like a duck. It had taken a little while and a couple stab wounds, but Neo had finally given into the Arc charm and let herself be adopted.

She was finally gaining a healthy weight and color to her skin, and her hair was combed and cut properly. Dressed up in nice clean clothes. Oddly enough she was actually older than Jaune by about three years. That had only made Arthur more incensed to find her parents.

Arthur had also been true to his word. More than happy to keep it actually.

Vale may be down one councilwoman, but the world was a better place so it balance out. Shame they couldn’t keep his face out of the press, but he sent his message.

-------

Six months later

Arthur glared at Saphron as she fidgeted with her girlfriend Terra.

The tweens had lost not only Jaune, but also Neo. In the middle of Vale.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand down his face, then pointed at the ferry where Victoria and his other daughters waited.

“Go wait over there with the rest of them. I’m sure your mother and Gris will have words for you two.”

“But Dad-,” “Mr. Arc please-”

Arthur stared firmly at her and Terra. Two tweens vs a now world-class huntsman would never in a million years be a fair contest.

They bowed their heads with shame and sulked over to his wife and eldest daughter, Gris the only huntress out of his daughters.

Arthur tried not to smile, as his daughter and her girlfriend got torn a new one, but he could only try so hard.

To be honest, however. He wasn’t worried for Jaune that much or Neo if Jaune was there. With the boys Aura and her Semblance they were damn near untouchable even for him.

No, he was more worried about-

‘KAAAA-BOOOOOOM!!’

The colateral damage.

So, Arthur did what he always did to find Jaune, follow the sounds of destruction.

He found Jaune sitting and talking to nothing in the middle of what was probably at one time a nice three story building, along with what might of been a nice, friendly gang of Vacuon thugs judging by their skin tone and tattoos that led back to the Sand Devils Gang.

They weren’t much more than bone splinters, red mist and a little bit of viscera now.

If he wasn’t so proud of his son, he might be terrified.

“So, Jaune mind telling me what happened here and where your sister is?”

Jaune jumped at the sound of his voice, bringing his hands up the way he taught him and probably how he just annihilated those men.

He relaxed when he saw Arthur and smiled. “Oh, hi dad! You can drop the barrier Neo and Em,”

Em?

Arthur had a feeling that they had another one.

“So Dad, we met a new friend, and she wanted to show us her house, but a group of meanies where here and wanted to make us do things, so I made Neo and Em hide, while I took care of it!”

Yep, they got another one.

Neo shattered into existence along with green-haired mocha skinned girl who looked absolutely terrified.

“This is Emerald, she lives here-, Oh no! I wrecked your house, I’m sorry!” Jaune looked at his dad paniced. “Dad! She can stay with us, right?!”

Arthur nodded and sat down to get eye level with the children.

Neo was holding Emerald and soothing her, and Emerald looked like she might run away at any moment.

She looked around nine, less dirty than when they first found Neo, but still under-fed and probably a street kid.

“Ok, you can stay with us.”

Emerald’s eyes went wide with shock, but Neo and Jaune pulled her into a hug.

------

Two months later...

Emerald was following Jaune and Neo like a moody cat, she had taken to living in with them better than Neo, even if she still pickpocket them some times and hid in the crawlspace.

Turns out she had still living parents. Arthur had made sure to extract all in the child support she was owed, and made sure they left her in their wills.

Too bad they suffered such tragic accidents afterwards. But, who would miss some Vacuon Dust Baron, or some Atlas Upper-Class Trash. 

Plus who cared if he was wanted by Vacuo or The Ace Ops, he was already blacklist anyway in both kingdoms.

-----

Two Months Later...

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday Jaune Arc!”

His string bean boy had turned seven years old today.

He was so happy for him.

Arthur looked at his son blow out the candles.

A wind blew over the campfire as storm was on the horizon.

They were celebrating his birthday here in Shion this year.

Arthur had a special present for his son this year, something to celebrate starting to train him in earnest as a huntsman. Even if he was as powerful as some huntsmen in training.

Boy would he be a monster... Well, more of one.

Arthur slid a long rectangular package across the camp table to Jaune.

“What’s this?”

“Open it up.”

Jaune looked at it and then tore open the wrapping.

A stainless steel practice sword and a heater-shield made for his size.

Jaune looked at his father with tears in his eyes. “I love it!” He squeaked out.

Victoria did glare at Arthur along with Gris, but they and the rest of the family squeled athis reaction.

They were just jealous he got the best gifts.

Arthur looked at his son seriously. “You understand what this means, Jaune? You’re going to have to start being a real huntsman now, no more regular school, we’re going to home-school you, and anytime you’re not training you’re going to be learning, understood?”

Jaune looked nervous briefly, but nodded resolutely. “Yeah, I get it. Plus I didn’t like anybody at school anyway, they were always mad at me for some reason or the girls would run away screaming.”

Arthur drifted his gaze to Em and Neo, who looked away innocently. “I guess it’s time for you two to start huntress training too, Jaune could use some partners.”

“Yes!” Emerald said joyfully, as Neo cheered with her.

Victoria stilled glared at Arthur, but he ignored it. “Who wants cake?”

------

Later that afternoon...

Clouds were starting to blow in and Arthur was gathering his family into the fortified cabins. It was going to start a down pour soon.

That’s when Arthur heard it, a moan of pain.

Arthur sighed and walked into the woods. His son, his newer daughters, and some boy he’s never seen before, all circled around a black haired Grimm masked woman who was on the ground in pain.

“Alright, what’s up this time?”

Jaune kicked the woman in the gut, elcipting a groan from her.

“She’s mean, kept trying to make us go with her, then made Vern over there fight us,” Arthur looked at the boy name Vern, who was staring awestruck at his son. Vern noticed him and quickly nodded, Arthur then noticed a black eye on the boys face and several other wounds. 

“I beat him though, and Vern got all scared, the Lady then tried to make us walk through a portal, I said no. She got mad. So she tried to beat us up, so Neo and Em gave her the run around while I beat her up. Then she got flashy eyes and tried to blasted us, but Neo and Em gave her the run around and she hit herself, then we all gang up on her.” Arthur looked at his son and daughters in amazement, not even hunters and huntress-in-training and they took on a rogue huntress with a powerful semblance and dust capablities. He was so proud of them!

The his eyes drifted back to Vern.

Arthur had a feeling he knew this song and dance already.

Arthur on down on one knee.

“How do you feel about adoption?”

------

One month later...

Raven Branwen, Raven notorious coward Branwan, was the rogue huntress his children caught. Nobody believe him though and now he had the nickname Tribe-Hunter.

Team STQ was quite interested in handling her imprisonment. That was none of Arthur’s business. Ozpin had been quite generous on his bonus though and gave him plenty of vacation time with his family.

Oh, and Vern was actually named Vernal and a girl. He really should have expected that by now. She didn’t take to family very well, but once a pecking order was established she was better behaved, even if she challenged him or Jaune for leadership.

Arthur held his wife closely as they watched their children play in the backyard. Well, Jaune and the new three.

They were practically a little team. Vernal was even calling his son ‘Boss.’

Arthur though couldn’t help feel something inside him watching his children beat the shit out of each other. That this was only the start of craziness.

His wife then gripped his hand. “I want more.”

“I feel like we don’t have a choice anymore.” But the idea didn’t bother Arthur much.

[caught-in-the-filter]

My Bad, Bad Devil, You Put the Angel in You

—an angel!Killian/demon!Emma AU PWP for CSSNS21

A/N: A huge shoutout and thank you to ultraluckycatnd for beta-ing this for me, and to the mods of @cssns for giving us another year of this event!

Heads up that this has some sacrilegious uses of Biblical references, and I totally understand and respect if that's a big nope for anyone for any reason. Most of my life, it would've been a nope for me too. I mean no attack or mockery or other ill intent toward Christianity/religion or anyone who practices any form of it.

I grew up in church but I've been questioning a lot for a long time now, and this sort of became my own little personal rebellion. (I guess writing smut in general has been, but this one is on another level.) I kind of have a love/hate relationship with this fic; it was fun when I started it, but then I got frustrated and stuck, and now I'm not sure how I feel about it anymore. And maybe I'll regret it in the future if I ever see the light again or something, but for now, I've resigned to the fact that if I'm gonna go to hell (if I even believe there is one anymore), then I might as well have a little fun with it while I can.

So if this is your thing, I hope you enjoy. If not, dl,dr, and no hard feelings.

Also, I know the title is a little long, but I couldn't resist the Doctor Who reference.

Rated: E; Words: 2904; AO3

——

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Emma purred, closing the distance between herself and the angel standing before her. With a flick of her wrist, she cast him back against the window and commanded the curtains to cross in front of him, spinning him so that he faced the glass before wrapping themselves around his wings and arms to restrain him.

“A daughter of the damned, getting in over her head?” Killian quipped, testing the hold of the thick cloth keeping him in place without fighting it.

“Mmm,” Emma hummed. Taking advantage of the fact that he hadn’t worn a shirt in favor of opening his wings, she reached around his waist and bent her arms upward so she could slowly rake her nails down his exposed chest. “You’re the one tied up, but I’m in over my head?” She twirled a few of his hairs around her finger and tugged, making him flinch.

“You make the mistake of thinking I’m not exactly where I want to be, love.” Killian glanced back at her with a devious smirk. “That is why you’re in over your head.”

“Oh, I know,” Emma smiled. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she lowered her hands and began to unlace his trousers. “I know you want to fall, don’t you?” She freed his hardening cock from its leather confines and slowly ran her hand back and forth along the length of him. “You want to rise and fall and lose yourself in the worst way.”

“With you?” Killian panted, already breathless under her sinfully skilled touch. “Hell yes.”

“Then you’re going to let them watch you fall from grace.” Emma gestured at the window in front of them, guiding Killian’s eyes to gaze out at the possibility of unwitting passersby spotting their activities, before taking him in hand once more. “You’re going to let them see you give all of yourself to a demon.” The guttural groan he made only spurred her on as she continued to pump him. “Unless you can’t handle it.”

Killian’s head fell back when Emma interrupted her stroking to grip his balls with a taunting squeeze, and he muttered under his breath, “God, forgive me,” as his eyes fluttered closed. Bucking his hips, he tried to coax her to go faster, “Yes, Emma, please yes,” but she smiled as she removed her hand and relished the whine that left his lips.

“An angel eager to sin.” She slipped her hands beneath the back of his trousers, kneading his ass for a moment before stripping off the leather, trailing kisses down his spine as she sank to the floor with the material. “Step.” With a tap to the backs of his knees, she removed the trousers completely and tossed them aside.

Emma ducked between Killian’s legs and twisted her body in one fluid motion so that she sat with her back to the window, greeted by his cock pointing right at her face.

“I want to taste you,” she said and lifted his cock so she could lick a slow stripe from base to head, swiping her tongue over the sensitive tip. Looking up at him from beneath her lashes, she cupped his ass and pulled him toward her as she took him into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. The staccato sounds that left his lips convinced her to hold him there as long as she could, flexing her tongue along the length of him, until she had to lean back to take a breath.

“Delicious,” Emma sighed and took him in again, and again, this time guiding him back and forth, in and out, her tongue darting out to tease his balls with each plunge.

Killian panted her name amidst a slew of encouragements, lost in the way she licked and sucked and consumed him. Her grip on his ass tightened, and he bit back a moan when her finger made its way to the center and circled its find before dipping just barely inside.

“Ooh, sounds like you like that,” she parted from him long enough to tease, continuing her carefully intrigued prodding as she asked, “shall we sodomize an Angel of God?”

“It wouldn’t—” he gritted his teeth as she gave his cock a particularly strong suck, straining against the curtains holding him at her mercy, or lack thereof, “—wouldn’t be the first time, love.”

“Oh?” Emma raised an eyebrow at him, pausing for a moment before bringing him into her mouth once more, staring up into his eyes as he watched her intently.

“Aye. Though I much prefer to give than to receive.”

Of course you would, Emma thought, the pun of angelic nature not lost on her. She hummed her assent around him and sent a ripple of pleasure coursing through his body. 

It was too much and not enough. As Emma relentlessly devoured him, Killian fought against the material holding him back. With one forceful downward motion, he tore the curtains in half and freed himself as he sought his glorious ascension.

His fingers laced into her hair, and for once, he allowed himself to take. His frantic thrusts were met with surprised and hungry moans, the vibrations of which sent him soaring over the edge.

“Ohh fuck. Fuck,” he cried as he spilled himself down her throat. He felt it when she swallowed as he held her still and his cock continued to pulse.

“Such a dirty mouth for such a pure being,” Emma remarked as she caught her breath when he at last let her go. She got to her feet and stood facing him, using her tongue to trace the lines of the cross tattoo on his chest as she rose, and she yelped when he pulled her flush against him, his arms tight around her.

“Oh, it can be much, much dirtier,” he growled, making her gasp as he gave a harsh tug to her hair and attacked the exposed skin of her neck with sloppy kisses and less than gentle nips and searing hot breath. She arched up into him, and it was his turn to pin her against the glass. His hand and hook frantically tore at her blouse while his mouth continued its expert assault as it made its way to hers and along her jaw until he caught her earlobe between his teeth. “Would you like that, demon?” he asked, slipping his hand beneath her waistband and trailing his lips down to the swell of her breasts. “Would you like my mouth on you where you’re warm and wet and wanting for me? Teasing you as you’ve done me, making you long for my cock as much as I long for the feel of you around me?”

Emma suddenly couldn’t find the words, too caught up in the thrill of hearing him, an angel, her angel, talk like that. Hoping to get the point across, she threaded her fingers through the haphazard locks on his head and shoved him to his knees.

“Shall I take that as a yes?” he grinned, holding her gaze as he lifted her incredibly short skirt and ran his thumb along the already soaked strip of lace she considered panties before pulling it down to her knees.

Emma leaned forward to allow the remnants of her blouse to fall to the floor before reaching for the support of the window once more as he canted her hips toward himself with the curve of his hook pressed to the small of her back.

Killian’s wing curled forward to assist with holding up the material of her skirt, the feathers tickling the top of her thigh, so he could focus his efforts on her aching core. Too eager to taste her, he wasted no time, choosing instead to start right with his mouth at her clit. She jumped at the unexpected jolt of pleasure, and he steadied her with his hand splayed against her inner thigh, inching his fingers toward her center.

“How can you be from Hell when you taste so divine, Emma?” he praised. “I could spend eternity quenching my deepest thirst between your legs.”

“Then shut up and quench it,” Emma barked. She didn’t really mean it, not completely. She loved his silver tongue, especially when he used it to talk dirty, but right now she craved him putting it to a different use.

“Ask and ye shall receive.” As he gave one more suck on her clit, Killian plunged two fingers inside her, soon increasing it to three as he stretched her and coaxed out more of her arousal onto his expertly explorative tongue.

“God, you’re so fucking good at that,” Emma sighed, tugging his hair as she rode his tongue and fingers, relishing the warm vibrations his pained groans and hungry moans ghosted over her sensitive skin.

“Oh no, love,” Killian said without relenting, looking up at her as he continued working her between words. “Don’t blaspheme. I’m not Him. I worship at your altar, Emma, and there’s no better place to be on my knees.”

“I like your Word better, anyway.” Emma’s head tipped back as her hips began to buck, but her moment of near bliss quickly turned into one of frustration. “No,” she gasped, shocked and almost offended as he pulled away with a smirk and stood to his feet, leaving her clenching on nothing and far from sated. “Come on, Killian, please! I thought you were all about giving! And how is this worship?”

“I meant what I said, love. I adore you, I do. But I am an angel, after all.” Killian chuckled. “We tend to enjoy when someone is brought to the edge before they’re granted their salvation. I need you begging for it.”

“Fucking tease,” Emma huffed, turning away from him with her arms crossed in front of her.

“Mmm,” Killian mused, “perhaps you are ready to receive more.” He nudged her legs apart with his own, a soft blow with the side of his foot kicking one out to the side, and Emma scrambled to reach her arms out in front of her for balance, her hands slipping on the window as her legs spread. Snaking his arms around her, he set his chin on her shoulder as he held her in his embrace and mused, “What do you think, love? Shall we bare you to them as I take you and show them what they can’t have, or should we keep this sinful skirt on and show them how eager you are to be ravished by an angel?”

“On, off, I don’t care which you’re into, just fuck me!”

“A bit of both then.” Killian pressed the side of his hook to her stomach and pulled her to him, holding her so that her back pressed against his chest. Lifting the front of her skirt, he handed her the bottom hem. “Hold this up for me, love.”

With a smirk, she took it between her teeth, stretching the waistband higher and pulling the material taut between her breasts as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder and winked at him.

“There’s a good girl.” He smiled and raised the bit between them with the tip of his hook, taking himself in hand. “You pretend you like to rebel, but you behave so well for me. Now, tell me what you want.”

“I said, I want you to fuck me,” Emma answered, slightly muffled by her skirt, frustratedly trying to swivel her hips in the hopes of getting him inside her.

He draped her skirt over his hand and wrapped his hooked arm around her once more to still her. Her annoyance encouraged him to tease her all the more, and he brushed the tip of his cock between her folds agonizingly slowly as he said, “I need you to be more specific, love. What do you want?”

“Fuck, Killian, I want your cock inside me.” Emma almost dropped her skirt when he filled her in one smooth slide, her jaw instinctively ready to fall open, but she caught herself and clenched it instead, biting down hard on the material with a groan at the sudden stretch.

“Very good.” The tip of his hook dimpled her flesh, dangerously close to piercing her, as he held her against himself and slammed into her from behind. His fingers laced themselves between hers and he caressed up the side of her body as he brought her hand to rest on the back of his neck. Emma raised her other hand in kind, and Killian moved his to her breast, kneading and squeezing it as he lost himself in the feel of her.

“Fuck, you feel fucking amazing around me, Emma. Not even heaven compares to the feel of you.” Killian licked a stripe along Emma’s collarbone and clamped his mouth over the spot, digging his teeth into her flesh. She moaned at the thought of the mark she’d wear tomorrow.

Bringing his arm back, Killian pressed it across Emma’s shoulder blades, pinning her chest to the glass in front of them with an arch in her back that jutted her ass out at him, and this time Emma did drop her skirt as her mouth opened on a loud moan at the forceful change of angles. Killian grunted and tucked his hook beneath the waistband, ripping it apart with the sharp tip and watching it fall as he pounded into her.

“I told you to hold that,” he growled against the shell of her ear. “Perhaps you are a naughty little minx after all.” Killian swatted Emma’s ass with an open palm before grabbing the reddening flesh and massaging it, in theory to soothe the sting but so roughly that she thought he might leave a bruise if he continued, one she’d be more than willing to bear as a reminder of their time for several days to come.

“Forgive me?” she teased in a mocking tone as she met his thrusts with each backward roll of her hips, almost inclined to make prayer hands at him if moving them wouldn’t risk her falling.

“Not exactly a sincere repentance, is it, love?” Killian struck her ass once more before grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging her head backward. “But it is rather tempting to grant you reprieve nonetheless.”

“Ah, so why don’t you give into that temptation, angel?” Emma gritted.

“Don’t try to persuade. Ask me for it.”

“Please, Killian, I’m so close.” Emma couldn’t take it anymore. “Make me come, angel. Please!” Emma sighed through a string of curses as Killian moved the curve of his hook to her clit, pressing the brace against her flesh just above it as he rubbed quick circles over the swollen nub.

“What say you, demon?” he asked, breathless himself as he brought them both to the brink. “Shall we chance our own breed of Nephilim?”

“Yes please,” she panted desperately. “I’ve already tasted you. I want to feel you. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“I’ll give you what you want, demon, but I want to hear you scream my name when I do, not God’s.” Killian’s mouth travelled from Emma’s neck to her shoulder and back as he pistoned his hips with abandon. His teeth scraped her flesh before he moaned against her cheek as he found his release, “Emma, fuck yes, Emma,” filling her with it and pushing it deeper as it dripped down the length of his cock.

With his brutal thrusts and relentless teasing, Emma granted his request soon after, crying out, “Killian!” at the top of her lungs as her knees buckled beneath her.

He practically lifted her off the ground when he caught her with his arm wrapped around her middle, holding her tightly as he drew every last drop of ecstasy from within her before he slipped from her core and spun her into a lightheaded kiss, caging her against the window with his arms once more.

“Well, that was fucking hot.” Emma smiled against his lips as she pulled one into her mouth to bite it playfully, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. “Who knew you had it in you, angel?” One hand anchored in his hair as the other clutched at his ass, and she pulled him closer to her so she could rut against his leg, letting their releases spill down her thigh onto his and making him groan.

“It was the other way around, love,” he joked with a certainly devilish smirk, “but I concur, it was fucking hot.” Tucking his arms beneath her legs, Killian hoisted Emma into them and carried her to the bed, tossing her not so gently onto the mattress.

Emma giggled as she taunted him with one curled finger, beckoning him to her as she spread her legs wide, an invitation he happily accepted as he knelt between them and crawled above her body with a guttural growl.

“You might just convince me of the divine benefits of your side,” Emma purred, running her hands down his sides to grip his waist, “but I think I need to witness a bit more firsthand to make sure I believe, if you’ve got another miracle in you.”

“Angels are eternal, darling,” he said. “I’ll never leave you if that’s what it takes to really fill you with the spirit.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

——

A/N: "Glorious ascension" to describe an orgasm? Yeah, I'm going to hell.

——

Tag list ��️: @batana54 @darkcolinodonorgasm @deckerstarblanche @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @holdingoutforapiratehero @hollyethecurious @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @kmomof4 @qualitycoffeethings @stahlop @teamhook @the-darkdragonfly @thejollyroger-writer @tiganasummertree @wefoundloveunderthelight @xsajx @zaharadessert

[camthesolemnone]

*crashes through door*

HI I HAVE ANOTHER ONE!!

Ok. Soulmate AU!! it's the one with the red string connecting you to your soul mate by your pinkie. Make up some rules for it if you need to!! I like to do the thing where the string gets tighter/looser as they move closer and farther from their s/o.

Ok, goodnight, I love you, bye!

*mwah*

*passes out just outside door*

Whoops accidentally made Zhanna older than Heavy in this one. Well I mean, maybe she is, but I've always written Mikhail as the oldest child in his family. Anyway, enjoy!

Wide eyes full of tears and flushed cheeks was what Mama came across upon turning to face who was tugging at her shawl. Little Zhanna, no more than five, was highly concerned about her baby brother.

"Mama! Misha’s finger is blue!"

Fearing that her son had developed gangrene from the cold brought on by the heavy storm outside, the distressed mother turned away from her soup pot and made haste towards the living room.

"Zhanna! Go get your father!" She instructed, entering the space, and the small girl nodded rapidly as she dashed off to where Papa was doing laundry.

Mama approached her child. The infant was situated in the center of the carpet, tiny hands shaking and eyes also leaking. Mikhail couldn't form words yet. He could only helplessly wail as he became light-headed; he had lost all feeling in his pinkie finger.

Mama kneeled down near him, and Zhanna and Papa appeared a second later.

"What is going on! Is moy syn alright?" The older man cried.

Mama took the boy’s hands in her own and examined them closely. As Zhanna had announced, his left pinkie was a light shade a blue. At the base of Mikhail’s finger was a small red string, fastened so tightly that it constricted the blood flow. The Russian mother breathed a sigh of relief.

“There is nothing to fear, he has simply acquired his soulstring,” Mama explained, standing up and giving her family a reassuring nod.

Papa let out his own held breath at the fortunate news, but Zhanna simply stared at her parents in confusion.

“Mama, what is a soulstring?”

Her father reached out to grasp her mother’s hand, and the two of them smiled down at their daughter.

“Young Zhanna, a soulstring is leetle red string around your pinkie that connects you to your soulmate: the person you are destined to fall in love with. Some people’s thread appears immediately after birth, but for others, it can take several years before their special partner is chosen,” Mama revealed.

Papa added on, motioning to Mikhail in the process.

“The tighter the string is, the farther you are away from your soulmate. Seeing as your brother’s is strong enough to cut off circulation, there is good chance his soulmate does not live in this country.”

Zhanna glanced over at the thread on Mikhail’s finger and then back to her parents, crossing her arms.

“What happens to the string when you find your ‘soulmate?’“ Zhanna inquired.

Papa crouched down to ruffle his daughter’s hair while Mama picked up Mikhail and left the room to resume dinner.

“Once you meet fated love, the string falls off for good,” he explained.

The small girl beamed and ran a hand through her black hair.

“Chudesno! I can’t wait to get my soulstring!”

.

Mikhail had given up on his chances of ever finding his love or feeling his finger again.

Forty seven years had passed since the red string initially appeared on his pinkie, and not once had he ever felt it loosen up. He felt hopeless and silently wondered most days if the higher beings had made a mistake. Maybe he truly wasn’t attached to anyone and they had tied the thread just to spite him. Instead, the Russian decided to spend his time taking care of his family.

His father had long since passed and Yana and Bronislava had run off with their soulmates, but at least Mikhail could still provide for his mother and Zhanna.

An ad in the newspaper intrigued him one morning: a mercenary job in America offering thousands. The giant immediately took to calling the company, known as Mann Co., and asked for a position. Not only would he be able to make enough money to provide a comfortable life for Mama and his sister, he was delighted at the opportunity to wield guns against evil men with no consequence. Moving away from the Russian blizzards would also prove to be a positive change.

Within two months of his interview, the new Heavy Weapons Specialist was landing down in New Mexico. A few days were spent getting used to his new surroundings and signing paperwork, but eventually, the bus came by his hotel to take him to the Reliable Excavation Demolition base. 

While lounging in the tough leather seat, Heavy glanced at the surrounding seats and took notice of two other men sitting in the back. They both wore red and yellow bands on their arms, indicating they were some of Mikhail’s new teammates. Preferring not to spend a year with a group of people who disliked him, the Russian moved to the back of the bus to make a good first impression.

“Privet, I am Heavy Weapons Guy,” he began.

The two men looked up from their respective pieces of literature. The younger of the two lazily held and flipped a baseball magazine with one hand. The other man, taller and masked, was gripping a thick, plain-covered novel.

“Yo! I heard that our Heavy was supposed to be, well, you know, heavy, but damn you’re fa--OWW!” The Bostonian shouted, being met with a swift slap from the man sitting beside him.

“Please ignore Scout here. This rotten bunny doesn’t seem to have any manners.”

“Go to hell, you French bastard!” Scout shot back.

The insults continued and Heavy found himself silently slinking back into his seat. He had the strength to snap both of them like toothpicks if he so desired, but it was better not to end his career before it started.

Along the ride, the bus stopped several times to pick up the rest of the RED team. First came their pyromaniac and engineer, then the sniper and soldier. The demolition’s expert came by himself and the final stop was saved for a relatively young woman in a purple dress.

“Er, hello, everyone. I am Miss Pauling, your boss’s secretary. I’m scheduled to give you guys a tour around the base and to break down your jobs. Raise your hand if you have any questions and please, try to cooperate with one another,” the woman sighed.

Dell, the shortest man on the team with a yellow hardhat, raised his hand.

“Yes, Engineer?” Miss Pauling prompted.

“Isn’t there supposed to be one more fella here with us?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Miss Pauling glanced toward the ceiling briefly as if she were really pondering the answer before turning to Engineer.

“Medic’s flight got delayed due to a massive snowstorm in Berlin. He should be here tomorrow at the earliest.”

It was impossible to notice the difference just by looking at it, but Mikhail nearly jerked forward when he felt it. Was he really going insane in his desperation? Had the string really just loosened? It most certainly had, he had felt the pressure ease up ever so slightly, but something in the back of his mind that told him it was just his imagination. The giant shook his head and groaned, barely able to pay attention to anything else Miss Pauling said.

His mind became a battlefield of longing versus absurdity. The thread had suffocated him during his prime. There was no possible explanation as to why his soulmate would be appearing now of all times. By forty seven, Mikhail was overweight, balding, had several scars from his time in Siberia, and was rated ugly by every woman he had attempted to romance. He couldn’t think of a single reason as to why his love would find him attractive now, and it deepened the eternal hole in his heart.

But Heavy held onto the faintest thread of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his suffering was about to come to an end. He would meet with the woman or man fate had binded him to, and he could finally be happy.

That night, Mikhail stared at his bedroom ceiling wide awake. Once their team’s doctor arrived in New Mexico, he would know for certain what destiny had in store for him.

.

Ludwig’s attempt at getting some shut eye on the flight failed. He couldn’t fall asleep even if he wanted to, for his pinkie was regaining its color. Somehow, this job as a battlefield medic that he had selected out of the blue was leading his soul to its missing half.

“It’s only a matter of time,” he murmured to himself, eyes more hopeful than the day he earned his doctorate’s degree.

.

Heavy awoke to the sound of loud yelling and banging on his door.

“Attention! You will be dressed and be stationed in the recreational room for role call in five minutes! That is an order!” Soldier commanded.

The softer, more compassionate voice of Miss Pauling sighed and spoke through the door.

“I’m sorry Heavy. I couldn’t say anything to convince him not to come with me to wake you guys up. Just settle down in the rec room in a few minutes, okay?”

Mikhail groaned, both from a lack of sleep and the sudden wake-up call. He complied, however, adorning his red, short sleeved shirt, his bulletproof vest, the bandolier for his minigun, pants, a belt, and a pair of sturdy combat boots.

When the heavy weapon’s specialist arrived in the rec room, it was absolute chaos. Spy had moved on from insulting Scout to bickering with Sniper, Demoman was already sloshing around a bottle of alcohol, Scout had stolen Engineer’s hardhat and was taunting him with it, and Soldier was shouting at a terrified looking Pyro.

“RED Team! Enough! It’s only the first day and you’re already at each other’s throats!” Miss Pauling stomped, placing her hands on her hips.

Some the the mercenaries, including Heavy, faced towards their higher-up while the others continued to do their own thing.

“Now look, your first battle will begin as soon as Medic arrives. I’m heading over to the airport to pick him up, so I advise you all check over your equipment,” her words more of a command than a suggestion.

Heavy’s eyes widened. He felt it again. 

He decided in that moment that polishing Sascha could wait.

Before Miss Pauling could leave the room, the large man scurried over to her and placed a massive hand on her shoulder to grab her attention.

“Yes, Heavy? Do you need something?” She asked plainly.

Mikhail nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Da, I want to come to airport with you, if you do not mind. I promise not to cause any problems.”

Pauling raised an eyebrow.

“Pozhaluysta, Miss,” the Russian begged, rubbing his forever blue pinkie with his other hand.

Miss Pauling opened her mouth to speak, but her words died on her lips when she noticed the tiny gesture. Instead, she gave him a short nod of understanding and proceeded out of the building.

.

In the car, Heavy’s leg bounced. His breathing was deep, and his whole body seemed to sweat with fear and anticipation. With every inch the vehicle moved, he could feel the burden on his finger lighten up. This wasn’t just some illusion or dream, it was really happening. After forty seven years of waiting, he was about to meet the love of his life.

Miss Pauling took note of his anxiousness, but didn’t say anything during the trip, giving Mikhail plenty of time to ask himself a million questions. What would his lover look like? Would they be a man or a woman? Would they have a heart of gold, or a rotten core that sought to make the Russian miserable at every turn?

Finally, the airport was in sight. Mikhail could hardly withstand the separation between himself and his soulmate. He wanted, needed to find his other half. He needed to shower them with all of the affection he had been waiting so long to administer. He needed to hear their voice and inhale their scent and feel their body against his own.

Miss Pauling nearly tripped over her high heels trying to catch up with the eager Russian. She had seem some truly heartwarming instances of soulmates meeting over the years, but never before in her life had she seen someone so desperate to unite with their fated love.

.

He had to hold onto a railing as he stepped out of the plane to avoid passing out. 

Ludwig had always experienced air-sickness while flying, but more than that, his hand was trembling. The string that had plagued his right hand for decades was loose, looser than it had ever been before. The doctor was overwhelmed; he wanted to throw up and cry tears of happiness at the same time. This was his moment, his soulmate was waiting for him.

As he stood near the loading gate, the thread loosened further, and it signaled that his soon-to-be lover was getting closer, closer.

Unable to withhold his excitement, Medic dashed across the airport. He got caught up in several crowds and passed right by the luggage pickup, but none of that mattered. He was following his heart’s call now; he let the slackening of his bindings guide his every step.

.

“Heavy! Please slow down!” Miss Pauling yelled, but the giant had blocked her out a long time ago.

There was only one voice he was willing to let in now. He pushed past a group of adults with the tiniest apology as he charged up the stairs. If he were anywhere else, he would have most likely been stared at and thrown out by security. In the chaos of the airport, everyone assumed he was simply running to reunite with a loved one.

An opening in the crowds.

Everything went silent.

The world slowed down.

Mikhail spotted him, his soulmate across the grand building. He was more handsome than he could have ever imagined, and although he didn’t know it yet, Ludwig also firmly believed that he had just encountered an angel.

The soulstring unraveled and landed on the ground.

All remaining distance between them was covered in a second. The force of the impact sent them to the ground, but neither of them cared. Arms wrapped around strong bodies, tears spilled out of adoring eyes, and lips whispered the pledges of love they had so desperately longed to hear.

At last, Mikhail and Ludwig were home.

[skinoxyclinic]

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• Skin treatments – Acne, Acne Marks and Acne Scars are the most common anxious conditions which make the patients look for the Best dermatologist in Kharadi Pune most of the time. Treatment of acne relies on the right diagnosis and treatment. Make sure when you are looking for lady dermatologist in Kharadi Pune, Dr. Usha Angre is an acne specialist who is the most trusted Skin Doctor in Kharadi Pune.

• Hair Loss treatment – Hair adds to everyone’s personality and losing hair can be very devastating as it’s like losing one’s crown and glory! We all would have experienced that on seeing even a single extra hair strand falling out from the head, the instant reaction is to google the Best Skin Doctor in Kharadi Pune near me! Let’s understand that there are different causes that lead to hair loss in both males and females. Obtaining hair regrowth is solely dependent on its thorough diagnosis and accurate management.

• Welcome Ladies! Is the Pigmentation that you have developed on your face during pregnancy making you anxious and making your search for a Female Skin specialist in Kharadi Pune? Your solution is found at Skinoxy clinic.

The most common pigmentary condition with which patients come to our clinic is Melasma. It is butterfly-shaped pigmentation on the face involving both cheeks prominences and the bridge of the nose. Treating melasma can be very challenging and the best result is achieved with a combination of treatments.

Please note that the treatment of every clinical condition is depending upon its root cause and that’s why each client is examined thoroughly and assessed during dermatology consultation at the clinic.

Dr. Usha Angre makes you comfortable at your consultation where you can ask all your questions freely in a friendly environment. She then after explaining the condition in detail formulates the customized treatment plan which is suitable for your medical condition to give the best result.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

NSFW Alphabet [Trafalgar Law] Complete Set

·         A = Aftercare

Law will insist you clean-up and go to the bathroom to prevent infections. Exhausted? You are, but he’s a doctor. And he knows what’s best for his S/O. As tedious and uncomfortable as it is to move – let’s face it, he just screwed your brains out – he will order you out of bed to do this task, but he too has to clean up, so he will do most of it for you and for himself as you happily lean against him.

Once he’s done, he’ll lead you back to the bed and tuck you in. Sometimes he’ll crash with you, but most of the time he has work to do and will make sure you’re contented before he leaves you; getting you some water to drink for example. He is a captain after all, but you know this.

·         B = Body part

His favorite part is of course his hands, and for you it’s the same. He finds enjoyment in the fact he can make you come so undone with just a push of a finger. The avid way your body takes him is a turn on and he takes great pride in hearing you beg for more – men and their pride, right? The inked letters on his fingers look so delicious as they sink into you; he almost can’t believe how perfect this feels and how warm you are.

You love his hands, not for the same reason, but because he’s gentle and considerably skilled with them; the tattoos are a bonus, because damn do you worship them. Whether he’s performing surgery or using his hands to activate his Devil Fruit, it’s a major turn on for you. Of course, there are other parts of Law you adore too – his sharp eyes and taunting mouth – but overall, his hands turn you on the most.  

·         C = Cum

Law doesn’t understand your fascination with his cum – it’s a mess to clean – but he doesn’t mind covering your face or filling your mouth if you ask. It’s warm and tastes decent, because he eats well, and you love it. He can’t deny how good it makes him feel to see you so worked up over something he considers irrelevant – he doesn’t plan to have kids with his profession; too dangerous. But if you love it, then good for you. Just don’t ask him to cum inside you. Nope!

“Cum can reduce wrinkles and smooth the skin.”

Why does he bothering arguing with you?

·         D = Dirty Secret

Law won’t admit it, or bring it up, due to it being so embarrassing, but he’s often fantasized about what it would be like to cut you apart with his Devil Fruit ability and fuck you senseless. He’s not even sure it can be done, but dreaming about your detached head watching him as he screws your body turns him on. Won’t happen though, because he’s too much of a prude to suggest it.

·         E = Experience

He may be a doctor; an expert on anatomy, but Law doesn’t have much experience with sex. The first time he had sex, it was based off instinct alone. Fill the hole, right? Can’t be too hard. It was … all right, he reckoned.

You made it better. He learned what made you come undone, and even learned a few things about himself. This didn’t turn him into a slut, but he began to enjoy it more. There’s still a lot he has to learn, but he knows more than before.  

·         F = Favorite position

Missionary, obviously. He doesn’t know much else, but on occasion, Law will let you ride him. This is better achieved in his desk chair, as you have no choice but to be on top. He doesn’t like not being in charge and he has no problem reminding you.

“Let me ride you. Sit down.”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t order me around. You won’t leave this bed for a week.”

·         G = Goofy

Not likely, Sunshine. Law is a serious character. You’ve only seen him act out of character around Kid or Luffy – something about these two brings out the dweeb in him; testosterone, you assume. Not much changes in bed. He’s a bit more domineering, ordering that you get on your knees, and sometimes you think he’s a bit of a sadist; he makes you beg quite a bit before he fucks you.

Afterwards, he’s rather gentle with you. He’s a doctor, remember?  

·         H = Hair

Pirates seldom groom or bathe for that matter, but Law manages to find time to freshen up when he can. Hygiene is important to him; he’s the sub’s only doctor. He changes outfits frequently and trims his goatee and sideburns – pubic hairs too; black as the hair on his head – when they grow out of control.    

·         I = Intimacy

Depends on him. He’s a calm and collected man; things don’t normally bother him unless his plans are ruined or he’s around Kid and Luffy. This being said, he’s eager to please you; he’ll give you sweet kisses and such. But, if he’s annoyed and in the mood, you can expect some sore muscles and a lot of orgasms.

“Remind me to thank Kid later. Or punch him in the face.”

·         J = Jack Off

Law has you, but not all the time can he just stop what he’s doing and find you, so he has to use his hand. Trust me, he imagines fucking you; can even hear your voice as you beg and praise him. Masturbating isn’t as pleasing, but it works for him.    

·         K = Kink

Begging and orgasm control; Law is a simple man.

·         L = Location

His room mostly, but Law will sometimes lead you to the operation room on the Polar Tang and wreck you on the operation table. But there was that one time on the Sunny.

·         M = Motivation

Your devotion and suggestive nature motivate him; the subtle and eager method you use to instigate sex does the trick, but sometimes Law is just aroused. Your body is great, but just being near you turns him on; he’s just too stubborn to tell you.

·         N = NO

Harming you is never something he’d agree to – as well as shooting his cum into you. Golden showers are also a no; it’s nasty and he’d never agree to it.

·         O = Oral

He prefers to receive rather than give, because he’s not too skilled in oral. However, he will make an attempt if you ask. You’re vocal during sex and if given oral, you tend to guide him when he’s falling short of expectation. Law doesn’t like this much – due to hating orders – but he does it for you.

“I don’t mind at all not receiving; I happen to like your cock.”

·         P = Pace

Slow at first, because he likes to draw out your moans and make you beg for more, and once you do, his pace quickens until your breathless and horsed. You have mentioned before how the first hard thrust drives you insane, so sometimes Law shoves his cock into you roughly; damn do you tighten around him when he does this.

·         Q = Quickie

Sometimes quickies are all either of you have time for. Law doesn’t openly ask for them, but he will motion away from the crew when he’s in the mood and fuck you against the wall or in a secluded room inside the sub.

·         R = Risk

Unless it’s agreed on or planned out, he won’t risk it. He’s a simple lover, so there’s not a lot he’d be eager to try unless you mention it first. The process is too lengthy at times; consequence and plans to prevent either of you from getting hurt.

·         S = Stamina

Law can fuck, but he needs breaks. His stamina is average. You don’t mind, however, because during this down time he’s gentle and intimate with you.

·         T = Toy

Not gonna happen. Why? Because he doesn’t have time for foreplay; perhaps once he finds the One Piece. Sex toys are also not the easiest items to come across – more elusive than Devil Fruits.

·         U = Unfair

Besides making you beg for him; Law can be unfair at times. He’s a tool so sometimes – quickies generally – he gets off and doesn’t do the same for you. Now when he has time, Law will make it up to you; he’s not a complete asshole. He just doesn’t know how to manage his time well.

·         V = Volume

The occasional curse and grunt are about the only noises he will make, other than urging you to beg for him. You make enough noise for the both of you.

·         W = Wild Card

He likes to see you in his clothes; his yellow hoodie looks good on you, but he’s extremely greedy and won’t let you wear them in front of others. His hat is another story; not in a million years. It’s his and he’s not sharing.

·         X = X-Ray

Law is average. It’s skinner than most you’ve seen, but you don’t mind; he’s a thin man.

·         Y = Yearning

You yearn for sex more than Law, but sometimes he needs a release. He’s a busy man and sex is usually the last thing on his mind.

·         Z = ZZZ

Law is an insomniac – look at the shadows under his eyes.  He’s much too busy to sleep and even after sex he returns to his role as captain and doctor of the Heart Pirates. You have to sometimes convince him to come to bed, and sometimes he will.

[tech-blog987]

Preventative Strategies FOR DERMATITIS & ECZEMA

Preventative Strategies FOR DERMATITIS & ECZEMA

The first step in stopping eczema is asking on the reason of eczema. Many outside reasons may be removed or as a minimum avoided. In maximum reason, there could be a few outside element that brought on or irritated the eczema attack.

Possible elements might also additionally encompass meals, drink, plants, cosmetics, toiletries, laundry detergents, cleansing beverages and dirt mites. Try to keep away from touch with any viable irritants as tons as viable. There are some of different matters humans can do to forestall eczema outbreaks from occurring.

Wear herbal fabrics.

Use a moisturizer.

Ventilate the house.

Try to lessen the quantity of dirt mites withinside the home.

Change mattress linen often.

Avoid scratching affected areas.

Try to lessen stress.

Avoid meals which can be excessive in saturated fats.

Seeing a Doctor

The first aspect you ought to do in case you suspect you’ve got got eczema is make an appointment together along with your medical doctor or pores and skin expert. Discuss any eczema skins signs you’ve got got experienced. If you’re recognized with eczema, your medical doctor will advise an eczema treatment. If you need to take any herbal treatments for eczema, talk this together along with your medical doctor or expert at some point of your visit.

Thank approximately what might also additionally have brought on the eczema pores and skin signs. Is there a own circle of relatives records or any meals hypersensitive reactions that can have contributed to the eczema? If you think you understand the reason of eczema, talk this together along with your medical doctor or pores and skin expert as well. It can be capable of be removed, stopping any in addition outbreaks.

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