#Mar also said he had a role he wanted to request in mind

[dizzybevvie]

Ok penny for sure not playing sora in the KH dub im so so curiousss

[3416]

Capitals’ Rasmus Sandin reflects on shock of Maple Leafs trade, finding role with new team

By: Joshua Kloke | Mar 21, 2023 | The Athletic

At first, Rasmus Sandin didn’t want to listen to what he was being told.

On the rink at the Kraken Community Iceplex in Seattle on Feb. 28, Sandin was moments away from his rep in a practice drill when he got a tap on the shoulder from Leafs assistant coach Dean Chynoweth. Sandin was wanted by a Leafs media relations member.

Sandin gave Chynoweth a quizzical look and told him he’d get to the request later.

“You’ve got to go now,” Chynoweth told him.

Beside the rink, Sandin was informed he had to see Leafs GM Kyle Dubas immediately.

“That walk felt very long,” Sandin told The Athletic.

Sandin stood stunned as Dubas delivered the news that the first draft pick he had ever made as Maple Leafs GM, and a player once thought of as a centrepiece to the Leafs’ future on defence, was being traded to the Washington Capitals.

“(Dubas) told me it wasn’t really something he wanted to do. But he felt like this was best for the team and also a good situation for me to go to Washington,” Sandin said.

With that, Sandin’s practice, and time as a Maple Leaf, was over. A whirlwind three weeks has followed for Sandin. He has spent the majority of his time as a Capital on the road, and he has logged over 20 minutes per game on the ice, something he last did in December for the Leafs. With that ice time, Sandin has posted an impressive 11 points in eight games with his new team.

The trade and increased playing time has given the 23-year-old a new lease on life, and an opportunity, in his words, “to show Toronto that they did something wrong with trading me.”

Over the course of a wide-ranging 20-minute phone interview, Sandin looked back on his time in Toronto, the trade that surprised him, and his future in Washington.

Rasmus Sandin wants to set the record straight.

“I did not request a trade out of Toronto,” he said. “I had literally no idea I was getting traded.”

Despite rumours to the contrary, likely a by-product of an emerging talent who didn’t get the kind of playing time that talent might dictate in Toronto, Sandin insists he never once thought about requesting a trade either. After he was drafted in the first round in 2018, Sandin moved from the Soo Greyhounds to the AHL’s Toronto Marlies. He had the on-ice smarts, the vision and the puck-moving skills that made him look like a decent grab at No. 29.

And maybe, if his skating and understanding of how to pick his spots defensively came around, he could become a top-four, power-play quarterback down the road too.

There were no serious questions about his development through his first season in the AHL and his second pro season, in which he split time between the Marlies and the Leafs. A foot injury hampered his playing time in 2020-21, though he was part of the Leafs’ playoff lineup for five games against the Montreal Canadiens in 2021. Perhaps the first genuinely concerning questions about whether Sandin could be depended on in important moments were raised during Game 5 of that first-round series, when two of his turnovers led to Canadiens goals in a loss.

In 2021-22, the final of his entry-level deal, Sandin was beset by injuries. He looked like a capable bottom-pairing defenceman, sure, but regular top-four minutes didn’t come.

“In my mind, it was always about battling for a spot,” Sandin said. “They had such a deep defence core, which is a good thing because everyone is battling every single day for a spot in the lineup.”

So coming into this season, it was fair to wonder where Sandin fit with the Leafs long term. He looked on the verge of breaking out, but Dubas had assembled a team capable of competing now. Among Leafs defencemen who were on the team before the trade deadline, Sandin again sat sixth in average time on ice. And though he’d received some more power-play responsibilities, he’d been lapped by his friend and fellow young blueliner Timothy Liljegren in ice time.

Sandin will always be linked to Liljegren in Toronto, fairly or not. Both are Swedish defencemen, first-round picks who rely on their hockey IQ — and were chosen in back-to-back years.

And Dubas was looking for both to sign similar bridge deals this past offseason. Liljegren bit on a two-year, $2.8-million deal in June 2022 as Sandin remained unsigned. Questions about his future in Toronto were amplified.

“What people don’t know is that my mom got sick in the beginning of 2022. She got cancer. She had some serious surgeries. We had a really tough time as a family that summer. That’s a big part of why I stayed at home, so I could spend time with her. People don’t know about that. That’s fine with me because I knew it, and Toronto knew it and they were fine with it,” Sandin said.

So while those questions remained at the start of training camp, Sandin stayed at his home in Sweden, unsigned.

“To be honest, my head wasn’t (in Toronto). For me, family comes first. My head wasn’t in hockey to go back to Toronto to sign a contract (in June),” Sandin said. “It was important to have my mom’s back.”

Sandin’s brother Linus returned to Sweden to play in the SHL after two professional seasons with the Philadelphia Flyers organization, which included his NHL debut in 2021-22.

“Being in Toronto with the market it is, no matter what, everything is going to be a big deal. That was something I wanted to keep to myself and not distract other guys,” Sandin said.

He still isn’t sure how many other teammates knew about his mother’s diagnosis.

As the leaves began to fall on the trees and Sandin said his mother’s health began to improve, she told him it was time to return to Toronto. He signed a deal with the same term and cap hit as Liljegren’s during training camp.

He finished his Toronto career with 48 points in 140 games, averaging 16:40 per game and has few regrets outside of more team postseason success.

“I wish we could’ve gone further in some of the playoffs,” Sandin said. “Otherwise, I don’t think I would have done things much differently.”

And that attitude is part of why Sandin was so taken aback by the trade out of Toronto. He says he believed in his future with the team.

Sandin was surrounded by friends in Toronto, too. Towards the beginning of this season, there were seven Swedes on the Leafs’ roster, the most of any NHL team.

Yet within a matter of minutes, those friendships were put to the test as Sandin was dealt to the Capitals and forward Pierre Engvall was shipped to the New York Islanders. After that Leafs practice in Seattle concluded, Sandin, Engvall, William Nylander and Timothy Liljegren gathered beside the rink for one last chat.

“It was tough holding back tears,” Sandin said. “It’s more than just hockey.”

“It was a nice moment, to have the chance to say goodbye,” Sandin added. “I’m going to have (them) as best friends for the rest of my life.”

Sandin left the rink, and the Leafs organization, walking arm-in-arm with Nylander.

“It’s tough even talking about it. (Nylander) was telling me how much he was going to miss me. We’ve been so close since even before my time in Toronto. He’s one of my best friends, if not my best friend. He wished me the best of luck, and said, ‘Don’t you dare not talk to me after you leave us,’” Sandin said.

It’s a side of the uber-cool and laid-back Nylander the public isn’t often privy to.

“He is the way a lot of people see him with the confidence and all that. But he’s one of the best human beings I’ve ever met. He has a lot of different sides. Sometimes the rest of the guys who don’t know him don’t get to see this side very often. For me, being close to him, I think I’ve seen every single side of him. I wasn’t too surprised about it, but I was obviously very happy that he showed that side as well,” Sandin said.

Still in shock, Sandin headed south to meet the Capitals in California. Having only packed for 10 days primarily through Western Canada in late winter, Sandin immediately found himself in need of a change of attire.

“I ran out of clothes pretty quick,” he said.

Life with the Leafs had been the only life Sandin had known. No more navy blue Adidas sweatsuits to wear to practices and morning skates. No more sneakers to go with suits for games, with ties optional. The Capitals operate a business-casual dress code, which meant one of the first stops Sandin made was to a local mall for dress shoes and a tie.

Once he was outfitted to the Capitals’ standards, he could focus on “showing what type of player I can be, and am.”

“You want to prove (the Capitals) right that they made a good choice in trading for you,” Sandin said. “And you want to prove your old team wrong.”

The Capitals have given him the runway to do just that. He’s averaged a whopping 24:56 time on ice per game, tops among all Capitals position players.

Now, how long Sandin’s production streak lasts remains to be seen. He’s minus-5 as a Capital and his five-on-five expected goals with the team sits at a paltry 41.42 percent. Six of his 11 points have come on the power play. Still, his increased workload is part of the reason Sandin believes he’s producing on the score sheet at an impressive rate. He feels part of the solution for a Capitals team on the outside looking in at the Eastern Conference playoff picture.

“It’s been a lot of fun just to know that your coaches believe in you, and your teammates believe in you,” Sandin said. “That’s a reason why they wanted to pick me up. They see me as a Washington Capital for a long time. That feels good.”

For the young defenceman, the ice time has helped him move on from the difficulty of leaving close friends. He can’t deny that it feels nice to be wanted and to see a way forward into a prominent role on the ice for years to come.

“I hope to stay here for a long time,” Sandin said.

[emeren]

bloodlust ☤ 1

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“The devil and I get along just fine...”

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vampire!Eren 

Word Count: 5.1 k 

Chapter Warnings: Blood, anxiety

Chapter Summary: Reader, a nurse, finds themselves facing a fanged beast, unsure what to make of the world. But this devil with dark hair may not have the intentions you think. 

☤ this work of fiction deals with vampires. in turn, there will be discussions of blood and minimal gore. it will also include nsfw content in the near future. all chapters will be marked appropriately☤

Moonlight soaked the path towards his freedom. It danced and reflected off of the dew coated blades of grass. Each one emulated a life he planned to save, with the destruction of his  people and the protection of the person he cared for most in the world. She had yet to materialize into something more than the soft breeze of a memory.

He was hungry; the tortuous cry of his instinct to ravage told him so. However, years of training and restraint had yielded him more than capable of swallowing his own desire. The one thing he sought most weighed heavier than impotent monstrous actions. For his goal, he could resist the craving to release his sharpened fangs.

He allowed his eyes one last glance over the house he’d called home for the past four years; dark and gloomy against the stormy night sky. Soon, those who’d chained him in shackles and dragged him to the cellar would be amiss in panic. Wrought iron bars that once caged his devilish soul would be found empty. A beast was on the run.

He felt brief sorrow for those he would hurt in the process of securing their freedom from a pained existence. But he’d made up his mind. All that was left to do was to head north.

His nimble hands pulled the dark hood of his coat above his head. He took one deep breath, the entrancing smell of rain and dirt wafting through the air.

North, to the person that occupied his past, present, and future. To freedom.

☤    ☤    ☤

You considered yourself well suited to the role you’d decided to serve for the rest of your life. Time spent meticulously memorizing health patterns and disease characteristics had broadened your sense of confidence. Doubt rarely ever plagued your mind past the childish decision of what to eat for breakfast in the morning.

Nursing had not always been your final destination in life; the unprecedented scared you enough to mark healthcare as a profession to avoid. Losing two parents unexpectedly in high school due to a mysterious illness had been enough to change your once convinced mind.

Your rain jacket was slick with the slight precipitation clouding the late night sky as you entered the hospital locker room -- a weak cup of coffee in hand, marred with a ring of chapstick residue against the lip. Night shifts were often greeted with unrelenting misery on your behalf.

“You look excited to be here,” The familiar tone of your coworker hummed from behind you. There seemed no force strong enough to concur surprise in your unrested eyes. Historia was someone who lacked a certain fear factor in most aspects of her being, anyways.

“I didn’t see you when I came in, Historia,” You answered, eyes glancing over your shoulder to take in the blonde-haired nurse. Despite having walked in the rain the same as you, her demeanor was much more spritely.

She gave you a smile, following you towards your adjacent lockers. “Ah, I came in the back entrance today.”

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s working the night shift,” Your half-assed attempt at being friendly mingled with the clammer of your locker. Historia chuckled softly from behind her door.

“I prefer the night shift, actually. Isn’t this your third night on?” She asked. You slipped your wet jacket from your shoulders, shaking it slightly before hanging it in the metal box.

“Yeah, it is. Can’t say I enjoy it as much as you do,” You lightly closed the door, Historia doing the same. Overt kindness wasn’t a trait you claimed when burnt out on work; she knew this and gave you no foul for it.

Her blue eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile. “Not a creature of the night, hm?”

“I’m no vampire, that’s for sure,” You chuckled. Historia’s smile faltered slightly. It came as no surprise that she was afraid of monsters and ghouls. You decided to change the subject in her favor. “Speaking of, I hear it’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, coy smirk wiggling its way back onto her blushed cheeks. Despite your adverse to the unknown, you enjoyed indulging in childish hospital rumors. The notion that weird cases spiked on nights when the moon was full in the sky was a tale as old as time; strange people flooded the hospitals, with even stranger injuries and illnesses. Or so that was what people said, not that you’d ever experienced it yourself. “I wonder if anything crazy will happen tonight.”

“Doubt it,” You stepped aside, allowing her to match your stride as the two of you headed towards the conference room for a briefing before the shift. She hummed in agreement, the rest of the walk done in a comfortable silence.

The room for debriefing was a mundane conference set up. The walls were a bleached white; anatomy posters and warnings about the harmful nature of cigarettes decorating the walls. An oval desk surrounded by blue, plastic chairs took up most of the room. It smelled like microwaved Kraft, courtesy of a nurse scarfing down a last helping before their shift started.

“That’s odd,” Historia frowned, blue eyes tracing the room. Staff sat around in quiet huddles, most silently waiting for the briefing to start. She glanced down at her watch before nudging you in the arm. “Where’s Doctor Smith? We start in two minutes.”

The tall, burly man was never late for a briefing; his stoic nature didn’t allow room for such a lack. He had never given you a reason to doubt his trust, but something about his demeanor made you uneasy. He commanded a room with such conviction that your coworkers fell to his feet with unadulterated respect; you, a mindless sheep following their lead. Rational thought would’ve placed your discomfort on his position of power and his role as your boss. Simply put, however, he gave you the creeps.

The plastic chair skidded against the polished floor as you took your seat at the table beside Historia. The older staff coughed and occasionally grumbled, filling the tired silence with a sense of annoyance. Your blonde coworker sensed your gripe, elbowing you in the ribs and leaving a crease in your lilac scrubs. You suppressed a smile.

“Pardon me,” Doctor Smith’s commanding voice echoed through the room before he stepped in the doorway. Your muscles tensed; back straightening as if to give the illusion that you hadn’t been hunched over, looking exhausted and miserable. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted; not a strand out of place and not a wrinkle in his blue dress shirt. His lab coat was almost a sickeningly bleached titanium. “Sorry for my tardiness; I was dealing with an emergency back home.”

Historia shifted beside you.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He gave a terse smile before picking his clipboard off of the table and flipping through the papers. “Looks like we’ve got the regular scheduling for this evening. As usual, the night shift staffing is lighter than our other shifts, so remember to be vigilant and take action without being told to.”

You tended to tune out the mundane precautions and warnings that were part of a pre-shift briefing. Outside the window, rain pattered against the glass pane. The shower provided a sense of comfort; rain often preceded a night spent inside, wrapped in blankets with a mug of hot tea. Though your current schedule didn’t allow room for such indulgence, you took a small delight in the weather condition.

Historia bumped your knee with her own under the table. You glanced at your friend, slightly alarmed from your daze. She leaned over, attempting to discreetly whisper in your ear. “He looks distracted tonight, hm? Wonder what that’s about.”

Your eyes glanced at Doctor Smith, who was reading through the clipboard with a staccato like urgency. Not wanting to cause any disturbance, you nodded your head in agreement.

“We’ll follow through with our regular assignments. If you don’t know where you’re located this evening, I suggest checking the bulletin in the locker room. As for this meeting, you’re all free to go,” His blue irises scanned the faces of all the employees, searching for confusion or questions to be answered. You averted your gaze, following suit as the rest of the room erupted in moving chairs and shuffling scrubs.

You already knew where you were working for the night; the same place as the last two, over in the geriatrics wing. This night would be the same as the others, not that you were in any place to be upset about that.

“Y/N!” Historia’s voice called you to look over your shoulder, barely out of the conference room. She had a slimy smile on her face; the kind that reeked of favors and avoidance. You felt the need to control your eyebrow from rising in annoyance. “Can I ask you something?”

You exhaled from your nose. “Shoot.”

“I have a patient in room 702 that I was assigned to,” The slightest batting of her mascara slicked lashes, blue irises working their hardest to win you over. You raised your eyebrows, urging her to continue. The other staff shuffled by you, sparing nosy glances. “I was wondering if you could take it? I’ll work in the geriatrics wing tonight for you.”

You had to give it to the tiny woman; for all she was worth, she was great at getting people to do what she wanted. You valued her responsibility and reliability, and she’d proved to be a friendly presence in the workplace. However, that didn’t stop you from seeing the selfish underbelly of her prosperous actions.

“What’s the patient in for?” You humored her. Even if her request was self-fulfilling, you figured might as well use it to your own advantage. Almost anything beat another night in geriatrics changing diapers and administering pill dosages.

“A blood transfusion,” She responded, smiling softly at you. “I’m not very good with bloody things, you know. Easily squeamish.”

You pretended to ponder whether or not to take her up on her offer. It was an easy choice, really. “Yeah, sure. What blood type are they?”

☤   ☤   ☤

The stand rattled unpleasantly against the tiled ground as you stopped in front of room 702. The thick bag of blood shook slightly from the sudden stop. How Historia had ever become a nurse when grossed out with the concept of blood, you weren’t sure. It seemed that her sweet disposition often aided her in whatever situation she needed to change for the better. You were an adult woman though, so whatever her motivations might’ve been didn’t concern you.

You gave the cart a once over, making sure all the necessary tools and items were there: a needle, an IV, gauze, those sorts of things. Blood transfusions were a typically fussless procedure; tediously watching the red liquid pump itself into the body.

Your knuckles lightly knocked on the door. “Hello, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion!”

Silence, beating through the empty hallway of the hospital. The lights were dimmed and eerily abandoned. You waited for ten seconds before opening the door to the sleepy room.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing he who was to be given blood. Historia had mentioned he was a John Doe, lying unconscious on the bleached sheets. You turned back to grab your cart, not bothering to be quiet. He’d be awake soon enough, anyway.

As you wheeled it in, your back was to the patient. The cart squeaked and rattled, stopping at the foot of the bed. You turned around, ready to rouse him from his slumber.

Beautiful.

You’d had attractive patients before. Both men and women who floated by life with the easy wings of accurately placed facial features to boost them up. A pretty face often had heat rising to your cheeks, but professionalism stopped you from thinking any further. Natural biological responses couldn’t be helped, after all.

Never had a patient left your lips parting in awe, heart drumming up it’s own beat of excitement in your chest. His face was slim; sharp jawline and a large, broad nose peeking out into the air. Pale cheeks barely dusted by the pink of an almost intangible blush. His eyelashes were long and thick, jutting out against the purple hue of his impossibly dark circles. Hair the color of old driftwood swirled and bunched on his pillow. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you’d ever treated, let alone seen.

What color were his eyes? Were they a dark brown, one to match the nature of his hair color? Or were they green, contrasting his pale skin? You began to feel eager to find out, more excited to know and learn as your gloved hand gripped his broad shoulder. You frowned at the frigid temperature of his skin.

“Excuse me, sir,” You gently shook, trying not to give away the way your body was reacting. There was no place for hormonal displays in your line of work, and despite his undeniable beauty, you were determined to remain professional.

His eyelids snapped open with such a speed you had to compose yourself not to trip backwards. Contrary to what you thought, his irises were a pale, almost sickly greyish blue. They held no gleam; no life behind them. Disturbance washed over your brain, warning bells going off in your mind. He looks slightly… feral?

He jolted upwards, confusion knotted on his once peaceful face. You stumbled backwards slightly, hip clipping on the cart.

“Who are you?” His voice was gravelly, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Blue eyes stared at you with such an uncertainty it made your head spin.

“I’m your nurse, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion,” You gestured towards the cart and stand, a red bag hanging from it like a token of peace. Despite his prickly reaction, you weren’t frightened.

“I feel like I’ve met you before,” He said, eyes squinted. Analyzing you, trying to pick apart your being, yet there you stood before him, a marvel to be held. He briefly glanced to the side; not more than a millisecond were his eyes off you before they were back, filled with unadulterated panic. “Where- where is Historia?”

You frowned, a little perturbed. “She asked to swap-”

“I need you to leave, now.” He growled, voice deep and authoritative. You widened your gaze, taken aback by his demanding request. The sheet fell from around his shoulders, bare chest exposed. Large hands raced to his face, hiding the features you’d once considered beautiful. “Get out of here!”

“Are you alright?” You panicked, stepping closer to the bed. His large form began shaking, knees drawing towards his chest from under the blanket. He appeared to be in pain; like a wounded animal.

“Fuck,” He yelled, breathing becoming labored. There wasn’t time to ponder. Was he having a panic attack? Was he going into shock? Questions didn’t need to be asked, you just knew that you needed to act. “I said leave!”

“No, I need to help you with whatever-” His hand shot off of his face, long, black claws sharpening from his fingers. You became fear stricken, his palm connecting with your chest. It sent you stumbling backwards, tripping over the wire to the heart monitor and slamming into the wall with your back. Tendrils of pain clamored up your spine.

“Close your eyes,” He rose from the bed, both hands dropping from his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, fist clutching your scrubs above your heart. Uncertainty. Terror, facing death like this. A monster stood before you, created by the devil himself. Tall, foreboding, chest heaving. His neck snapped upwards; wide, red eyes piercing into your thinly veiled soul. He spoke something like a garbled beast. “Promise me you’ll close your eyes.”

You didn’t respond. There were no words to be spoken. Between his pink lips glinted a pair of large, sharp incisors. “Promise!”

You reverberated with his words, wincing and shutting your eyes involuntarily. He didn’t want you to watch as he slaughtered you. “I-I promise!”

The loud clamor of metal colliding with the polished floor had you breaking your promise mere seconds after it’d been made.

He stood, illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs like an angel ascending to heaven. The bag, once an object you’d believed to be a healing beacon, clutched between clawed hands. His teeth, bare to the world, puncturing the thick plastic as though it were paper.

His adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically as he swallowed mouthfuls of thick, red blood. It was as if he’d been starved; knees buckling and desperate blood sucking so intense that his legs could no longer support his body weight. He knelt on the once clean floor.

The twine that connected your sense of reality and rationale had been pulled taut -- pieces of the frayed string snapping and threatening to drop you into depths unknown. Uncertainty had always been a foreign concept; you’d been given the option to study your circumstance and fully conceptualize it before going head first into a situation.

That’s what had intrigued you about being a nurse; though the job seemed like a bull in a china shop, you’d learned every reason why or how that bull ended up there and what exactly you needed to do to get it out.

You lacked the expertise or even the understanding to handle this particular situation. What studying could’ve been done? Reading horror stories or watching Twilight as a teenager with your friends? Even then, the probability of this happening to you felt like it should’ve been a zero percent chance.

You liked knowing what to do. Thrived on it, actually. This man, tall and dangerous, presented you with no opportunity to know. There was no textbook on how to handle a vampire, as childish as it felt to recognize that that’s what this was.

You’d been so sure. So convinced that there was no possibility of this heinous monster being an actual thing to walk the same crusted earth as you. Yet here he was, dawning the shape of a man and the face of an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so terrifying?

The hospital wall was cold against your back, the distant hammering of an organ that no longer felt placed in your chest rang true against your clenched fist. You felt the chilling call to move, to rise from your place and run. You didn’t know where, but the muscles in your thighs screamed a silent symphony.

He made quick work of the bag, like it was nothing and had never been anything in the first place. Who had donated that blood? They were probably asleep somewhere, lying in a bed and dreaming of a different world. A world where their charitable donation wasn’t being consumed by a devil before your terrified soul.

The red liquid oozed from his lips and dripped onto his barren chest. You hadn’t moved since you’d collided with the wall what felt like an eternity ago. Your ears rung rapidly with the obnoxious blood flow to your overstimulated brain.

Eyes the shade of a blue jay traced from a pair of blood soaked claws up towards your face, following the path of destruction. Though shock and fear reverberated through your every nerve, the softness in his gaze dulled a small part of your terror. He looked guilty, holding his dripping hands in front of his face like he’d just committed murder.

“You promised to close your eyes,” A voice so small, as if he’d known you your whole life and you had just witnessed a character altering situation. Something echoed in the back of his words, something that sounded like resentment. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at your prying eyes or himself.

“I- I didn’t, I mean, I tried not to but,” You were at a loss. A loss for a way to communicate how you were feeling, a loss for sanity in the world. The monster before you scowled, as if scolding a child who’d disobeyed their parent. “What are you?”

He brought his bloody hands to the floor; you noted that the claws were gone. “I figure it’s pretty obvious at this point. Can’t you tell?” He whispered.

“But vampires aren’t-” His steely gaze hardened at your choice of words. “They aren’t real, are they?”

“They are,” He responded, looking at you with such a strong emotion that you shifted uncomfortably against the wall. What was he thinking? Those eyes looked like they were fixed on someone he cared deeply for, not someone he’d met mere minutes ago. “But you weren’t supposed to know that, which is why I asked you not to open your eyes.”

“You started drinking a bag of blood right in front of me!” You whisper-yelled, brows knitting together to display your slight frustration. The wonder and fear still laid active in your chest, but something about him was familiar and comforting, despite his gruesome actions. You couldn’t explain exactly why you knew he would bring you no harm. “Of course I was going to open my eyes. If I’m not supposed to know, why would you do that right in front of me?”

His scowl deepened. “I tried to warn you. I haven’t had any blood in awhile and I lost control of myself.”

“What happens now?” Your question came out smaller than intended, unfamiliarity rising in your abdomen. The thick stench of blood was beginning to make your intestines twist in disgusting unease.

The question sought to strike a chord in the young man’s features; a grim and saddened look swept across his sharp attributes. His hand came up to pinch his temples, unperturbed by the bloody fingerprints left in its wake. “We have to get out of here, and fast. If we don’t, the people who are after me will kill you.”

“Kill me?” The word had a different sense of fear wafting over you; the kind that pricked your eyes with the sensation to shed tears. He looked pained. “I can tell them that I didn’t see anything, I can promise that I never saw you and-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He snapped, glancing at you with irritation. His harsh tone forced your pleas to die unsaid in your throat. “The people following me aren’t rational. One of them will also be able to tell you’re lying.”

“So then, what am I supposed to do?” You cried, allowing the bottled up and suppressed emotions to spill over the thin wall of resolve that his comforting presence provided. He didn’t flinch but remained in serious tranquility. “I’m supposed to leave here and hit the road with some random man, who is a fucking vampire, and what? Hope for the best?”  

He looked away from you, blood-covered face staring at the hospital bed that he’d once occupied. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this now. I owe you enough to protect your life as best as I can.”

You were in hysterics. What sort of ultimatum was this? Stay and die or leave and risk dying? Another predicament that couldn’t be solved with the aid of literary education. Resentment was beginning to build in your own chest. Diving into an unexplored depth of the ocean, brimming with creatures and lore that you had never predicted to be real.

“Hey,” You snapped back to reality. The man before you scooted forwards slightly. Though his face was that of a devil, soaked in another’s blood and deathly pale, his movement had your chest tightening in something other than fear. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise, if you come with me, you’ll be safe until I can get them off our tail. Then I’ll take off and they’ll follow me, leaving you alone.”

Sticky tears trailed down your cheeks, eyes burning. When did you start crying? “How -- how can you be so sure? How can I trust you?”

He was on his hands and knees in front of you now, sharp nose half a foot away from your face. Any call to breathe was put on hold, teary eyes widening slightly at his stare. It was soft and open, trusting in the strangest way. His dark hair hung around his face.

“My goal is to rid the world of demons such as myself. That’s why they’re after me, and why they would take your life to guarantee silence. When I’m finished with what I want to accomplish, I will be dead and so will they. I have nothing to gain by hurting you. I promise to keep you alive long enough to see the end of this.”

Your lips parted in awe. The conviction in his tone was that to lead an entire army into battle; to create religions and cult followings. Blessed be the demon who wished to take down his own kind.

You had spent years convincing yourself to trust in what others told you to follow. Self-intuition wasn’t enough to breed a successful nurse; you needed the expertise of studies and procedures done before you. You required the necessary tools that others had used and approved of. Your heart’s certainty had no place in medicine. It had no place in the tried and true.

The man slowly rose one freezing hand towards your face, apprehensively watching for your reaction. You sat unmoving, owl-eyed. His palm caressed your chin, cold thumb swiping the tear from your cheek, smearing blood in its wake. “Find it in your heart to trust me.”

The conviction of his words rang lightning through your veins, mouth speaking without precedented thought. “Okay.”

He rose from his crouched position, offering a red hand to help you up from against the wall. You shook your head. There had been enough blood sharing for the evening, sanitation crossing your mind as you shakily slid along the rough plaster, bracing yourself to display a toughness that you weren’t sure you contained.

The rule of thumb not to trust those whom you don’t know played a soft melody in your heart. Mothers’ warnings and fathers’ lectures. Apparently all you had been told fell upon deaf ears, clouded with the hazy judgement of a life threatening situation. But in circumstances such as these, did the general rule apply? You were left to ponder.

“Hey, wait,” You frowned, a dumbfounded feeling crossing your mind as the man stepped towards the opposite side of the room. He stopped and turned, sharp jaw jutting against his mane. “What even is your name?”

“Oh,” He turned back towards the other side of the room. You didn’t follow. The door was the opposite direction, so whatever business he had over there did not concern you. “It’s Eren. And you?”

You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks at the confession of his name. It was beautiful, feeling somehow appropriate for his physical appearance. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah,” He responded, as if he already knew. You scoffed inwardly at his tone, still anxiously pressed against the wall. His blood stained hand rose to the latch on the window, attempting to open it.

“Why are you opening the window?” You questioned, noticing a beep from out in the hallway. The door stood open, allowing passersby to witness the blood on the floor and your cheek, as well as this man called Eren, who appeared straight out of a horror movie.

Closing the wooden door meant deciding with certainty to trust him; to follow him and hope that whatever tales of murderous vampires he’d shared had been truthful. To step away from the knowledge and the comfort of your current life. It implied that no one would see you in there with him and come to your rescue.

They will kill you.

Your hand gently clicked the heavy door into its place.

Turning back to Eren, you noticed his hand wrapped around the latch to the window. He was frozen in place, watching you make your final choice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You reiterated. Eren turned back towards the glass. His reflection wavered slightly in the shine.

“This is how we’re getting out of here,” Eren responded, pulling the latch and shoving the window open as far as it would go. It stopped at about two inches, for safety reasons.

Disbelief once again danced across your mind, pulling you into what was beginning to feel like a new equilibrium. “If you’re planning to leap out of that window, it only opens that far.”

He ignored you, bringing his bloodied palms up against the glass. It appeared as though he merely shoved it; so light that it shouldn’t have budged. It shouldn’t have moved at all. The heavy window snapped at its industrialized hinges, pummeling down towards the ground below.

He glanced at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised semi-smugly. You gawked back; simultaneously impressed by his strength as well as put off. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll die if I jump from here,” You scoffed, still not moving from your place. Eren stared back emotionlessly. He stepped towards the bed, reaching beneath it and pulling out what appeared to be a black hooded jacket.

He swung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood above his head. “I know. If you ride on my back, you won’t die.”

“Are you always this mundanely serious about fucking supernatural shit like this?” You spat. There was a warmth beginning to settle in your face as well as your core; heated by the idea of being so close to him.

“Yes,” He retorted, walking towards you so quickly you thought your head would start spinning. “No time to waste with your endless questions.”

He reached down, abruptly swooping you up from behind your thighs, effectively gripping you bridal style.

“Eren, put me down. Put me down!” You started squirming as he thundered towards the open window. You hated heights as much as the next person; they were fine in retrospect, but made you dizzy when in close proximity. Eren seemed unbothered by your quiet cries of protest.

“Eren, I swear to god,” You brought your fist to his broad chest. He ignored you, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Against any better judgement you still retained, your eyes glanced towards the drop. Your stomach sank, becoming a heavy boulder in the bottom of your abdomen. “Fuck, put me down!”

He stared down at you. A gaze so tranquil that the rest of the scene seemed to fade away. You became hyper-aware of his bare chest which you were pressed against; that unfamiliar churning in your core spreading towards your limbs.

“Hold still, or I’ll drop you.”

☤   ☤   ☤

next chapter >>

tagging: @sunshinedragonofthewest​ @ryukatters​

[ares-would-be-proud]

Anon said Is it alright to request some head cannons-nsfw preferably for Reiner being in love with his precious step-sister? Like he has to take care of her so no one hurts her, and who better to take care of her then himself?

Reiner thinking he's the only man good enough for you, his precious step-sister.

{ Reiner x fem!reader | tw:stepcest, tw:possessiveness, tw:overprotective, tw:overstimulation | smut, forbidden love | modern }

{ "Mars and Venus, Allegory of Peace" 1770 by Louis-Jean-François Lagrenée 1724 - 1805 } (ha! Get it? Bc they're also siblings)

Sees it as his own job to protect and dot on you, not letting you go somewhere alone without him by your side, keeping an arm around you at all times.

Dotting in the way he never forgets your favourite snacks each time he goes to the store, takes over cooking duty when your dad and his mom go out, makes sure you're sleeping and eating well.

Being skeptical of your friends, and making his own friends get on edge if their eyes happen to stare at you for a bit too long for his liking.

Bertolt never meets your eyes because of that, even Annie just glues her eyes to her phone whenever you walk in the room.

Will literally intimidate people from even thinking of approaching you by his presence alone, you could safely walk anywhere anytime with him by your side.

And yet, with you he melts at every flutter of your eyelashes and twirl. Becoming putty in your hands with every soft touch and small peak you give his cheek.

His brain almost stops each time you smile.

And while to everyone else it seems like he's just an overprotective big brother, behind closed doors it's another story.

His hand trailing up your thighs under the dinner table while his mom tells you about her day.

His lips kissing down your neck whenever you wear that low-cut top, hands going under the fabric and tugging down your bra till your breasts spill over them.

Turning a deaf ear to your protest's about being late to your friend's house, his attention solely on sucking marks down your chest before taking a nipple between his lips and sucking while flickering the other.

By the end of it, you had to change into a long neck shirt from the amount of hickies and marks he took his sweet time leaving behind.

Is the type to take you with him places, his own personal cheerleader.

Loves making you call him big brother, even if you weren't younger he'd still demand it.

I say "demand" but in reality he's just pouting with puppy eyes.

Since your dad married his mom, he was smitten the day he saw you at the wedding.

Oh and he will literally buy you anything if you play your cards right, even if he goes broke.

Really easy to manipulate if you're willing to play the role of the cheering sweet little sister, his heart easily swaying with the sway of your short skirt, throat going dry at your honey filled voice calling him the best big brother.

Really really wants to take care of you.

Like really, will find excuses to let him take care of you and do stuff for you.

Although nothing comes without a price…

Let's just say what's normal sex for him is overstimulation for the normal person, he has insane stamina

And his cooing for you that you can give him another orgasm, just one more.

You both could be sitting on the couch, watching a movie you've been wanting to watch for a while, and he will pop a boner because the way you giggled at a scene was really adorable-

Even while knowing that his mom was just a room away—fixing both of you some dinner in the kitchen—it didn't stop your step brother from trailing his big hands up your legs, squeezing the plump of your thighs before pulling at the hem of your shorts, an intense stare in his eyes.

"Come here" he says while patting his thighs, "really missed you baby, wanna feel you against me." 

Coaxing you into giving in, not wait for a reply before letting his hands do all the work to sit you on his lap. Burying his face in your neck as his hot breath tickles your skin, almost whining about how tiring today was while his hands rub circles on your back.

You don't miss the curving of his lips when he asks if you could kiss it better for him, make your big brother feel better.

His hands start trailing up and down your back instead, feeling the softness of your shirt, the curve of your ass, circling around your waist before going up again, adding just enough pressure to loosen any tense muscle you might have.

You try not to give in despite his coaxing, mouth in a frown as you stare at the remote still clutched in your hand, the sound of the movie you were watching still playing in the background almost mocking you.

"Reiner can't this wa-" you try to brush him off but the rocking of his knee between your legs shuts you up, making your grind back against them to get more friction as you press your thighs together.

Eyes glossy as your brain gets clouded by the pleasure, your older brother bouncing you on his leg till your toes curl and mewls escape your lips. 

You hear him shushing you, murmuring how your step mom might hear you, only to grind against your dampening shorts faster.

The knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as you get closer to the edge, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, your own hips pushing back against him.

His arms get a firm hold of your hips, stilling them as he stops his own leg too, mere seconds before you get that final push.

"Want your brother to make you feel really good? Want me to take care of you huh?"

You quickly nod without thinking, aching for any sort of relief. He rewards you with a kiss, slow and gentle as if you're some delicate soft thing he needs to pamper.

-

And to him, you are. That's why he took you to his room despite the growing urge to push you against the nearest surface and ram inside you,

No, your big brother would never. He sees it as his duty to protect you from everything and so it follows that he wouldn't settle for less than a soft bed and a pillow under your back.

That's why he tucks you against him the second you get on the bed, his back to the headboard with you sitting between his legs, back against his chest.

His hand slipping past the elastic band of your panties, fingers painfully slowly moving up and down your slit before parting your lips. 

Your back arching when they start toying with your puffy clit, rubbing circles around it and flickering it till your soaked panties start clinging to your wet pussy.

Brain turning into mush when his fingers shove into your sopping hole, the faster he goes the louder your whimpers get as his thick fingers thrust in and out.

His other hand put enough pressure against your stomach to keep you in place when your thighs began to quiver, the more you squirm in place when his thumb presses down your now swollen clit the more your back rubs against his hardening cock.

"Fuck- just like that." Groans slip past his lips with each roll of his hips against your ass, precum starting to seep through the fabric of his pants.

He's as desperate as you are.

It's not long before he has you creaming on his fingers, watching you unfold and shake before gushing against his hand. He slowly pulls his fingers out as sticky lines cling to them, looking at you panting with your legs still shaking, before shoving them back in and fucking your own mess back inside you.

You let out a strangled scream at the punishing pace, head lolling to the side from the overstimulation and mind going completely blank.

All sorts of compliments and soft words leave his lips, praising you as he forces a second orgasm out of you, having you turn into putty in his hand.

Too much- it's too much, you're too sensitive and barely able to form coherent sentences, a shaking quivering babbling mess, too high in pleasure to notice the tear stains down your cheeks. Attempting to finally catch your breath now that your brother is satisfied.

If only.

"You're ready for me sweetheart?" He says, voice laced with anticipation as he pats your messy cunt, making your knees buck. "Ready for your big brother's cock filling up this pretty pussy?"

One second he's tugging your soaked paintes to the side, cold sending shivers up your spine, the next he's tapping the head of his cock against your hole, pushing up your slippery folds till the tip rubs against your sensitive clit, making more tears collect clouding your vision.

Cock throbbing at just the idea of your gummy walls squeezing him inside, making his thrusts stutter and grip almost bruising against your skin. Filling his room with the sound of skin on skin slapping as his hips slam against your wet thighs

The image of your knees folded against your chest till the base of his cock disappears inside, reaching impossibly deep till he's kissing the entrance of your womb before slamming against the rough patch of skin that makes you drool.

It's driving him crazy with lust.

And despitet how much he wants nothing more than to fuck his cum inside you, fill you up and plug you with his cock, really make sure that you're tied to him for life and no other man will even think of looking your way with, he will still pull out.

Sprouts of cum rushing out his swollen cock as he pulls out with a wet pop, whie ropes painting your stomach and chest instead, going down your thighs and the curve of your ass before staining the sheets. 

Just have your brain swimming in milk and honey as you take in the afterglow, he'll run soothing circles up your thighs while you doze off to the rise and fall of his chest.

The scenes play out in perfect order in his mind. Yeah, just the thought alone is enough to make him want to go for three rounds at least till he's cumming dry. 

"Alright, spread your legs more for me, yeah just like that."

[flashfuture]

hello do you mind explaining all the amazons?

All of them????

Okay uh I'll break down the ones i at least know about anyone who's deeper into the WonderFam please jump in I don't really interact with them that much.

But we've got

Diana Prince: Wonder Woman

Our Golden Age Princess of the Amazons. During the Golden and Silver ages she came from Paradise Island. She was truly animated clay here and several hundred years old by the time of WWII. During the Golden Age Diana married Steve Trevor and they had a daughter named Hippolyta "Lyta" Trevor. (My break down of Lyta would be an essay in itself and she's not really an Amazon so). Diana was a member of the JSA here.

During the Silver Age Diana also married Steve but no kids. She rescued Donna Troy from a fire and sent her to Paradise Island to be raised by Hippolyta making Donna and Diana sisters. This is the first timeline to mention Ares is her grandfather technically as he made Hippolyta. Diana lost her powers at some point. She got really really good at martial arts and then two years later got her powers back. She supposedly died during Infinite Crisis but then you know didn't. During Convergence she killed a vampire Joker. That was fun. In this timeline Diana was a founding member of the JLA.

Okay and post crisis New Earth Diana is the first one to say Diana is from Themyscira. It was still called Paradise Island sometimes. She was molded from clay. Diana in this time was not a founding member of the JLA but came to America after it was founded. (I think Infinite Crisis retconned her to be a founding member but idk) Diana has become a member of the Trinity alongside Batman (Bruce Wayne) and Superman (Clark Kent). 

The Prime Earth Diana is the one from Flashpoint and onwards. She’s now the daughter of Zeus. In New52 if I recall right she was made much much younger like in her 20s and explored mankind in the modern era. The Doomsday clock thing reestablished her WWII origins. She was also said again to have been born during probably the Hellenistic Period (they said classical antiquity and that’s you know just a few thousand years) She just helped out in Death Metals and is now doing something with Infinite Frontier unclear I don’t really know what Prime Earth Diana has been up to lately. 

So on Earth-Two, Earth-One, and New Earth Diana was the granddaughter of Ares and as such her life span was greatly extended. On Prime Earth as the direct daughter of Zeus she is immortal. 

Donna Troy: Troia/Wonder Girl 

Donna is a tricky one. She was introduced real quick to fill the girl role on the Teen Titans cause the boys were getting a little too gay. So started Silver Age Earth 1. Okay so basically her origin kept changing but the one that’s ‘canon’ is she was created to be a playmate for Diana but was abducted and kept being cursed to live tragic lives in New Cronus. Right around the Titans era okay Donna was rescued by Diana and brought back to Earth. Donna was the one to suggest the Teen Titans name. Donna is a member of the Fab Five along with Robin/Nightwing (Dick Grayson), Aqualad/Tempest (Garth of Shayaris), Kid Flash/Flash (Wally West), and Speedy/Arsenal (Roy Harper)

Donna married Terry Long when she was 19 and they had Robert, got divorced, they died in a car crash. 

After Crisis on Infinite Earth Donna sorta realized all those ‘lives’ she led were other version of her which she was all of now. And also Donna was believed to be the Goddess of the Moon. She had to stop a sun-eater or whatever but failed (Hal came in with a clutch it it’s cool)

Donna also had to fix some shit during Infinite Crisis and ended up on a Universe Hopping road trip with Kyle Rayner and Jason Todd to find Ray Palmer for Final Crisis or something. She was killed by a Superman Android during the Teen Titans/Young Justice Crossover. (Edit thanks to that anon for this I legit couldn’t remember how she died)

And Prime Earth Donna was made to destroy Diana. She you know didn’t. 

Look I’ll be real I know next to nothing about what the New52 tried to do with Donna. I just go by her original origins of being Diana’s sister. 

On Earth-One and New Earth Donna’s life span was greatly extended and on Prime Earth she is stated to be Immortal as on Prime Earth Amazonian’s on Themyscira were granted immortality. 

Nubia: 

She is like Diana’s twin made from darker clay on Earth-One which is the silver age Earth. Nubia was actually slightly older than Diana but she was stolen as a baby by Ares who was going by Mars. Mars/Ares is Nubia’s grandfather and he wanted her help in taking down the Amazons. Nubia was raised on Floating Island (or slaughter island as Mars/Ares called it). Nubia fought Diana and hesitated to kill her leading to a draw. Nubia returned to Floating Island and at some point Supergirl had to save her life from poison of some sort. 

On New Earth she went by Nu’Bia and was just a random Amazon, her job was to guard the Doom’s Doorway which is an entrance to the River Styx. She was not Diana’s sister. 

On Prime Earth Nubia is the daughter of Hippolyta and the half-sister of Diana not her twin. Nubia went undercover pretending to work with Darkseid before Themyscira could recover and rally to fight. Nubia is currently the Queen of the Amazons. She was given the crown by her mother, Hippolyta during the Dark Metals event. 

As with Donna on Earth-One and New Earth Nubia had a greatly extended lifespan and on Prime Earth Amazons are immortal. 

Cassie Sandsmark: Wonder Girl 

She is a New Earth entry who was for the new Young Justice team. She is the daughter of Zeus and Dr. Helena Sandsmark. Here as Ares is Cassie’s half-brother and technically the father of the Amazon’s this means Cassie is Diana’s great-aunt. 

Cassie as a girl was able to request a Boon of Zeus who she didn’t know was her father at the time I believe and demanded real superpowers. Her mother Helena was able to turn off Cassie’s superpowers at the start as well. Cassie was trained by Artemis for awhile. Cassie became Wonder Girl in honor of Donna Troy who handed over her old suit. Cassie joined Young Justice as a teenager and would later be on the Teen Titans. Cassie has become a part of the Core Four for Young Justice alongside Robin/Red Robin (Tim Drake), Superboy (Kon-El/Conner Kent), and Impulse (Bart Allen). 

Cassie’s best friends outside of the core four are Supergirl (Kara Zor-El) and Cissie King-Jones (Arrowette). Cassie and Conner Kent used to date as well and she was in love with him before he died during Infinite Crisis. 

On Prime Earth Cassie is the daughter of Lennox and the granddaughter of Zeus. In this version Diana is Cassie’s aunt not the other way around. Cassie is still a member of the Young Justice team here. I don’t exactly remember what was happening during the New52. She was still Cassie unlike Kon and Bart who’d been replaced. But during Rebirth she went with the other members of Young Justice to rescue Conner Kent from Gemworld. She is currently still a member of the Titans. 

On New Earth as the daughter of Zeus, Cassie is an immortal who would not age further once she reached her prime age (like 27 or so). On Prime Earth as the granddaughter of Zeus and the daughter of Lennox Cassie’s life is extremely extended. 

Artemis Grace:

Artemis of Bana-Mighdall comes from a separate group of Amazons not on Themyscira or Paradise Island. Bana-Mighdall is a tribe of Amazons in Egypt who left Greece millennia ago. 

On New Earth Artemis left her home at 14 and wound up working for Ra’s Al Ghul before returning to her home. There was a competition to see who would be the next Wonder Woman as Hippolyta foresaw Wonder Woman die and wished to spare her daughter the fate. Hippolyta ensured Artemis won the competition. Artemis was shunned by most of the world including the Justice League who refused to see her as the true Wonder Woman. Artemis was also thought to be too violent. Artemis would later die in a battle with a demon fulfilling the prophecy of Wonder Woman dying. 

Artemis got out of hell eventually and was given the job of training Cassie Sandsmark by Diana and would later train Supergirl in combat as well. 

On Prime Earth Artemis was raised being told she would be Queen of the Amazons. She was desperate to prove herself and wanted to be the Shim’Tar of the Bana Amazons. Artemis’ best friend and lover Akila was chosen instead. Without Akila by her side Artemis felt her home had nothing left to offer and set out on her own. She helped stop an invasion of Qurac into Bana as well. 

Artemis then joined the Outlaws and worked with Red Hood (Jason Todd) and Bizarro, a botched clone of Superman. 

On New Earth Artemis had a greatly extended life span. On Prime Earth he Amazons were gifted immortality but those who left for Bana-Mighdall lost this gift so it is most likely that Artemis has the same extended lifespan from New Earth. 

Grace Choi:

Grace on New Earth comes from the same group as Artemis in Bana-Mighdall. Grace’s mother is an Amazon but her father was a Korean American. Grace grew up in America in the foster care system. She ran away at 9 but was kidnapped and sold into a child prostitution ring. She managed to escape at age 12 after her powers kicked in. Grace began fightining both for pay and for fun and worked as a bouncer at a meta club in Metropolis. 

Grace worked for the Outsiders for awhile at the request of Roy Harper an ex-fling and good friend of hers. She helped rescue Lian from the same child protsition ring she was in as a child and generally had lots of adventures with the Outsiders. 

Later it was revealed she had Bana roots but Grace refused to join them as they were currently you know sieging down the US. Batman was briefly worried about her loyalties but Grace proved she had no loyalty or ties to the Bana Amazons. 

Grace has returned to the Prime Earth in Infinite Frontier and in Festival of Heroes and it seems like nothing has changed with her so far. 

Grace has increased longevity of her life. She is listed as half-amazon because only her mother is a Bana Amazon but all Amazons only have their mother who are Amazons so I don’t really see why she isn’t a full Amazon. Anyways increased life span. 

Jason:

He is Diana’s twin on Prime Earth. He was sent away cause you know no men on Themyscira. Jason was raised by Glaucus who was a member of the Argonauts crew and worked under the original Jason of Greek Myth. Who Jason was named for. 

Jason was raised on the Aegean Coast by Glaucus and became a Fisherman. Jason was trained in his youth by his half-brother Hercules. 

Jason worked briefly with Diana but wasn’t sure how to be a hero. There was a period where Darksied’s daughter tricked him but Diana talked him down. And Jason saved Diana’s life during the Dark Metals event. 

He is currently in the Dark Mutliverse living with a boyfriend on the Aegean Coast. 

As the son of Zeus, Jason is an immortal. 

⚔️ Also for fun the Weapons:⚔️

Lasso of Truth: Wielded by Diana Prince

Originally imbued with it’s power by Aphrodite and Athena later after crisis forged by Hephaestus and powered by Hestia, this lasso forces the truth from whoever it has ensnared. It is indestructible.

Lasso of Persuasion: Wielded by Donna Troy

This Lasso forces someone to do what the wielder demands. This requires Donna’s or whoever wields the lasso to have a stronger will then who they’re using the lasso on. It is indestructible.

Lasso of Lightning: Wielded by Cassie Sandsmark 

This lasso was created by Ares and gifted to his half-sister Cassie Sandsmark on New Earth. This lasso channels Zeus’ lightning and can make someone experience intense rage if they are caught by the lasso. The power of the lasso is directly correlated to Cassie’s rage levels. 

Lasso of Submission: Wielded by Artemis Grace

Originally from Earth-3 this lasso has the ability to make someone obey any commands even those to inspire false love. After Superwoman (Lois Lane) of Earth-3 was killed Diana took the lasso and gifted it to Artemis. 

Bow of Ra: Wielded by Artemis Grace

The Bow of Ra was a gift from the Egyptian sun god, Ra to the Bana-Midghall Amazons. This bow goes to the Shim’Tar and forges a special bond with them. Those who are not the Shim’Tar cannot wield the bow and further if you are not a candidate to be a Shim’Tar the bow will harm or even kill you. The bow requires intense willpower to use or it can drive the wielder mad. Akila was driven mad with the power of the bow and had to be killed by Diana and Artemis. It is said to have the power to destroy stars so this bow is incredibly dangerous and powerful if not wielded by the right person. 

(Bonus Donna used to use a lasso that was golden but held no specific magical properties.) 

[eastertag]

Phoenix

@janetm74 gift for @katblu42

the prompts: 1) Lee Taylor, 2) rising like a phoenix and 3) a bird with a broken wing, preferably a Thunderbird.

‘Uncle Lee, Uncle Lee!’ the twins shouted, rushing up to him and throwing themselves around his legs. He bent and scooped them up as their parents followed them at a more sedate pace, bemused smiles on their faces.

‘Tina, Vincent,’ Lee said, inclining his head to them as they all made their way back into the house, and the grins broadened. Some things would never change. As Lee sat down, one child on each knee, Kayo disappeared to get supper ready while Virgil entertained their guest. 

Or rather, while their guest entertained them.

Lucy Ruth and Grant Jefferson Tracy loved their Uncle Lee. Even if he couldn’t get their names, or their parents’ names right, he told the best stories. They didn’t get to see him as often as they would like, but every time he visited the island he made sure to spend some time with them.

Virgil came over and held his arms out for one of his children. ‘Come on, bed time,’ he said, taking Grant as Lee stood up with Lucy. This was often the highlight of his visit, and Lee wouldn’t swap this opportunity for anything.

Putting the youngsters to bed, Virgil and Lee exchanged glances, waiting for the inevitable request, and Grant didn’t fail to deliver. ‘Story, Uncle Lee! Story!’ he clamoured, his sister joining in. Lee grinned. ‘Which one do you want to hear?’ The children shared a glance, then squealed together: ‘The phoenix! Tell us about the phoenix!’

Lee chuckled. He’d lost count of how often they requested this one and he sat in the chair between the two beds while Virgil disappeared to assist his wife in the kitchen, safe in the knowledge that his two would be well looked after.

‘Well, Lana and Gerry, have you ever seen a phoenix?’ he started, and as usual both children nodded and pointed at him. He rolled his right sleeve up to reveal the faded tattoo. The phoenix, rising from the flames and ashes, screaming defiance to the sky. ‘That’s right. I got this after a particularly difficult rescue…

‘Damn it, Lee, that was too close!’ Jeff yelled, pulling Thunderbird Two up and away sharply.  The corresponding swearing told him that Lee was alright, if a bit shaken. The voice of his eldest came over the comms: ‘careful, Uncle Lee. We don’t want those roughneckers thinking you’re one of them rather than one of us rescuers!’ Jeff chuckled as Lee retorted rather sharply, ‘careful yourself, Spencer, we wouldn’t want you to…’ whatever he was saying was cut off by another explosion on the rig. 

Ribbing would have to wait, and both Lee and Virgil got the rescue platform ready for its’ last run, while Jeff used Two and Scott used One to stabilise the platform enough to get the last lot of workers off. John confirmed from Five that all emergency protocols had been initiated, and that capping the well now only required the special missile Brains had put together.

Scott fired the missile once the rescue platform was safely away in Two, and both ’birds headed back to the mainland. Two dropped off the workers at the hospital and they headed back home, Virgil flying and his dad co-piloting him. 

Not long after the four men could be found relaxing by the pool. International Rescue was still very new, that rescue had counted as their last single digit. Nine rescues in eight weeks. Sure they had started slowly, but as news spread about the organisation rescues were picking up. With all three of his eldest on board since the start, having had some background training in their respective fields beforehand, Virgil was now starting to go out and put his engineering skills to use. Jeff had made it very clear to his son that Two was his, but he needed some more training on the rescuing side before his dad would hand over control completely.

That was why Lee was here. Jeff and Scott may be pilots, but Lee was the engineer, as was Virgil, and Jeff had thought that his old friend and fellow astronaut would be ideal to help Virgil learn how to assess and react on the fly, as it were. Scott was an excellent commander, and could make snap decisions that were 99.9% right, but he wasn’t an engineer, and some of the decisions involving structural integrity and stability Virgil already knew how to call. It was what would make Scott and Virgil such a brilliant team – their respective skills complemented each other perfectly, they just needed honing.

Lee spent the next couple of days going over simulations with both boys, drills being run again and again until the two worked as one and they ‘won’ every time. They were fast studies, and Lee was more than happy at the way ‘Vincent’ picked up making decisions quickly, and his confidence at telling ‘Spencer’ when he was wrong or needed to take account of a variable.

He was preparing to return to Alpha Moon Base in two days. They spent his penultimate night with a barbeque, retelling how their dad and Lee had made the Mars landing, how Lee had needed to engineer a solution within seconds while Jeff was fighting to pilot the craft, how they barely made it. Sure, with every telling Lee embellished some part or other, but the overall story was not lost on Scott and Virgil. Always be aware of what you can use around you, think on your feet, Never Give Up.

The next morning all four were torn from their sleep by the emergency klaxon. 2:30 am was not a time any of them were used to getting up, but the ability to jump out of bed, dress and present oneself to the lounge for briefing Virgil was gradually getting used to. Scott never had a problem with this, his military training more than enough to prepare for this. John also didn’t have an issue with his NASA background. 

It was, so far, their third early morning call. Getting into the lounge last was not unusual, but at least he was awake. Scott passed him a coffee that he seemed to magic from nowhere, and he gratefully sipped the scalding drink while John filled them all in. 

A mine collapse in England with several workers trapped. However, the good news was that they had had notice, so the majority of workers had been able to get away. Scott was dispatched immediately, while Brains, Lee and Virgil poured over the plans of the mine and surrounding areas, checking geology and if there was going to be any surprises.  The only thing they worried about was that there were several ventilation shafts dug out over the larger area, which was a forest, and the possibility of an explosion of the gases that naturally built up was quite high. With that knowledge in mind, Two set off with the Mole, Jeff piloting and Virgil co-piloting.

It took Scott no time at all to reach the mine, and his report confirmed everything that they had already known and prepared for. As he set about organising what he could on the ground, Virgil and Lee went over the geology again, mulling over potential issues and discussing contingency measures. Jeff listened in, his confidence and pride in how quickly his son had assimilated to his role growing.

Lee and Virgil took the mole down, and it was a textbook rescue. Five miners, minor injuries only, it took around an hour to get them all loaded on the mole. The injured were loaded onto the waiting ambulances and International Rescue were thanked profusely. As they cleared away the equipment and loaded everything, Jeff looked at Lee and he nodded. It was time. As the four returned to the ’birds, Virgil was surprised when his dad walked past Two and carried on to One with Scott. Scott glanced back at his brother, grinning madly, and gave him a thumbs-up. 

‘Dad?’ called Virgil after them, uncertain despite his brother’s obvious glee. Jeff turned around and came over to his middle son, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. ‘Virgil, you performed really well on this rescue, both Lee and Brains said you made the recommendations yourself, you decided where to drill, you looked out the potential danger sites. You’ve more than earnt the right to fly your ’bird home without your old man standing over your shoulder.’ He thumbed over his shoulder to a waiting Scott, ‘that’s your brother’s privilege today.’ Scott mock-scowled, but he really couldn’t keep the grin off his face, and neither could anyone else.

One shot off into the distance. Virgil knew his brother would be waiting for him, but for the moment One was out of sight, and Lee huffed something about ‘show-off flyboys’ and ‘like father like son.’ Virgil just grinned. They were all flyboys really, well, except possibly Gordon but even he could fly competently (not that their eldest brother would ever admit that), only Scott seemed to have inherited their father’s love of speed so far. Alan may have, but he was too young to earn his wings yet.

Two rose more slowly – majestically was the phrase Virgil preferred, thank you very much – but she had her own turn of speed. The take-off may not be as impressive as her sister but compared to other aircraft his girl was fantastic. Using her VTOL’s to gain enough lift to engage her main engine, both Virgil and Lee kept an eye on the forest around them so they didn’t set fire to any trees. Trying to ensure he didn’t, Virgil nudged Two forward as she rose.

They hadn’t got far into the air when Lee suddenly shouted. But whatever he was shouting about was lost in the roar of an explosion that rocked Two violently, catching her back and left side, causing her to spin out of control.

Lee came too with several voices yelling for him and Vincent, er…Virgil. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but at the moment his concentration was all on shutting the voices up to stop his head from hurting. Oh, yeah. He needed to open his eyes to do that, and boy was that a mistake. Bright light assaulted him, followed closely by the smell of burning…he knew that smell, it was familiar to him. The smell of burning electrics!

It was the jolt he needed to get himself moving. Unbuckling his belt, he quickly checked himself over, nope, no injuries other than the cracked head and possible whiplash. He wiped the blood off his forehead while he stood up.

Second big mistake. He immediately doubled over and vomited. Ok, make that cracked head, possible whiplash and a concussion. But there was something more important he needed to do. The shouting was still shrill in his head and ear, but he ignored it, hauling himself over to check on Vinc…Virgil. The young man was out cold, a similar gash to his head.

It was the fire all around them that worried him. There was an extinguisher – Brains ever the overcautious, but this was extensive and he knew he needed to get them both out of there quicker than treating the flames would allow for. But as he tried the upper exit the resultant failure to open was no surprise. They would need to get out of the cockpit and the side door.

One of the advantages of being ‘space-trained’, as Lee often termed it, was that it taught you to think on the fly and to use whatever was to hand. And what was on hand, just outside the cockpit, was a prototype suit Brains was in the middle of designing for Virgil, to assist with heavy lifting. At the moment the bare bones were there, and it would be the best thing to use. Even if opening the door was easy, they would be surrounded by debris.

Good job he was strong, Lee reflected, hoisting Jeff’s middle boy into a fireman’s carry. This boy was heavy! He staggered out of the cockpit and into the service way, stopping before the entrance to the pod. The exosuit was housed here, a small area set aside for her, and Lee was thankful that he and Vincent were the same height as he carefully laid the lad down and got into the suit.

As with everything Brains created, the suit adjusted to fit him, and Lee marvelled at the engineering behind it. With a whirl of gears and pistons lee was moving, Vinny over his shoulder, over to the doorway. Thankfully this one slid open easily, Cahelium being so very tough, but outside the ’bird the forest was ablaze.

No sooner had Two got caught up in the fireball, Five had notified One, and a horrified pair of rescuers turned around and raced back in time to see her crash. Training taking over familial responsibilities, they set about using One’s cannon to blast the rapidly spreading fire. Jeff knew that One didn’t carry enough to douse this and directed John to call the local fire services. Scott set One down some distance away, both men inwardly seething at the distance needed because of the fire.

Their priority was to get Lee and Virgil out, so donning their fireproof suits Jeff grabbed two spare oxygen tanks while Scott grabbed extra fire extinguishing tanks, and the two set off while John constantly called to the downed men.

As Jeff and Scott burst through the forest they were met by an astonishing sight. Lee Taylor, resplendent in the exosuit prototype, Virgil over his shoulder, both bathed in the flames around them. The exosuit, still unpainted in this testing phase, shone reds and yellows. They appeared almost in slow motion.

Later, later Scott would mention how like the phoenix Lee looked appearing so suddenly. But right now, all their attention was focused on rescuing Lee and Virgil and putting out the fire.

…and once your Uncle Scott mentioned the Phoenix, that was it. Of course, that was the seed sown, but I didn’t get the tattoo straight away. Returning to Alphie was next on the cards, and it wasn’t until several years later, when your Grandpa Jeff was missing. When your Uncles Spencer and Alvin came to rescue me and Alphie was destroyed I felt that my life as an astronaut was over. Then Spencer gave me another chance when we went to Mars.

When Tina, your mom, came and found me I felt that I was given a second chance at life at my age, and I remembered Spencer remarking about the phoenix and I thought “that’s me, that’s my life.” Your uncles gave me my life back, a second life just like the phoenix. Then they went and rescued your Grandpa, and my third life began, teaching the next generation of Mars settlers.’

By the time Lee had finished both children were asleep, and Virgil and Kayo were wrapped around each other in the doorway. Hearing how their weird Uncle Lee saved their dad’s life never failed to fascinate the pair, and they loved the tattoo. Virgil had been honoured when he’d been asked to design it.

The three adults retired to the living room to reminisce. 

[josefavomjaaga]

Helfert, Joachim Murat, Chapter 2, Part 4

(Sorry, just a short piece today as I've been somewhat distracted. But hey, guess who is mentioned: Pépé!)

**

The King had also recently become irritated with Austria on learning that she had transferred decisions on the claims of ex-Queen Maria Luisa of Etruria and on the succession to the throne of Savoy from his hands to those of England, Russia and Prussia; "this proves," Gallo said to Count Mier in the second half of December, "that Austria no longer adheres to the principle which she herself has expressed: that she does not wish to allow any other power to interfere in the affairs of Italy. Must this not make the King uneasy?" In the question of the Marches, Metternich and Consalvi pressed the Duke of Campochiaro until the latter, in the best opinion of making his master more favourably disposed to the sentiments of these two powers, came to the concession that the Neapolitan troops should withdraw from the Marches, provided the Pope would commit himself to the strictest neutrality between Joachim and Ferdinand. But the king refused. "How could Campochiaro make such a promise," he exclaimed in conversation with Count Mier, "when he had the strictest mandate to make the recognition of me as king a conditio sine qua non for the evacuation?! The Pope may easily promise that he will observe strictest neutrality between me and King Ferdinand, but he will not keep it. He promised me in Bologna, and then again in Cesena, to send me an envoy and to accept one from me as soon as he arrived in Rome. Did he do it? On the contrary, he has conspired with my enemies to my downfall, he has allowed himself to be drawn completely into Ferdinand's interest. Does he want to postpone my recognition until after the end of the Congress? Once I have the recognition of the Congress, I will not stand for his recognition, which will then be a given. Let him do it now, I will be grateful to him for it and then he will also get his stamps out. I hear he wants to banish me for occupying territories which, as he thinks, are the property of the church ? My Lord Count, he would have to start with you; for you occupy the Legations just as I occupy the Marches." [Footnote 1]

Footnote 1: Mier to the 20th of December. Some time later, Lucian Buonaparte wrote to his sister that he would come to Naples on behalf of the Pope in order to reach an agreement about the Marches; but he was given to understand that he was not to interfere in matters that did not concern him.

**

To the Vienna Congress, as to the world in general, Joachim understandably wanted to spread the opinion that no one was better suited for the throne of Naples, that no one was more popular than he with all classes of the population, and this gave rise to a flood of addresses which arrived in Naples from all parts of the country, mostly ordered, often literally prescribed, and there found their way into the capital newspapers and with them to Vienna, to be used by Cariati and Campochiaro as evidence in favour of the king. But there were also more independent manifestations among them, and an address from a part of the Neapolitan nobility was particularly noticeable at court because in it, with barely concealed allusion to Sicily, the demand for constitutional institutions was expressed. Even if the king did not find himself in a position to comply with this demand for the moment, he was perhaps not entirely displeased with this manifestation because it touched on a matter that could win him numerous and widespread sympathies.

For he was more than ever anxious to make himself popular and, in contrast to the measured or defensive attitude of the old cabinets, to win public opinion in his favour. The only thing that got in the way of his efforts were his country's carbonari, about whose secret activities new signs were constantly appearing. Of course, as we know, the more educated associates often had constitutional desires in mind, and these would have challenged the king just as little as the ideas of Italian unification, which also enjoyed great support in these circles. But the evil for him lay in the pronounced old-royal sympathies and tendencies by which the great mass of the Carbonari allowed themselves to be dominated; and even of those in frock coats many placed their hopes in the return of the Bourbons, because they attributed to the Crown Prince Franz a preference for constitutional institutions. For the sake of those wishes and ideas, the sect had zealous supporters even in Joachim's immediate surroundings. Maghella, who had been freed by the capture of Paris from the distrustful bonds in which Napoleon's police had held him since his recall from Naples in 1811, one does not know for what reason, and who was now once more in King Joachim's confidence, was considered a friend of the Carbonari, and the same was the case with several of the national generals. But the king could not be dissuaded from his suspicions. "You want me to show mercy to the Carbonari," he said one day to Guglielmo Pepe, "people who in their assemblies at Lanciano declare me a tyrant?" At his meeting with Pius VII at the foot of the last campaign, Joachim had asked him to condemn such a dangerous sect also from the ecclesiastical point of view; the Pope had answered evasively: "this had already been done in the earlier bulls against secret societies". When he returned to Rome, however, a new edict appeared, signed by the pro-state secretary Cardinal Pacca, against the Freemasons and other such associations and cooperatives; only the Carbonari were not expressly mentioned, and the King of Naples therefore saw himself dependent solely on his own decrees and courts, which diligently performed their duties. One of the sect's headquarters was now the Abruzzi, where the military commissions passed one death sentence after another.

In the capital, hardly anything was noticeable about these bloody events. At the royal court, things were cheerful and glamorous, even if the expense had been somewhat reduced compared to earlier times. Entertainments and cercles, hunts and carousels alternated with military spectacles on the Field of Mars and attracted onlookers from all over the world, among whom, as always, the English played the leading role and received the greatest attention.The London Cabinet was troubled by the naivety of some of the sons of Albion who, like Lord Sligo, marvelled at the King of Naples as one of the greatest men of his time, assured him of the sympathy of their countrymen, wrote home that England had no more loyal friend than he, and so on. Things were brought to a head in this direction by the Princess Caroline of Wales, who was met by the King in person at Aversa on 8 November and brought to the capital in his carriage, he on the left and she on the right, where she declined however to stay in the royal palace. But she paid visits to the queen and received those of Caroline, appeared at the festivities of the court and hosted such in her palace, and was not in the least disturbed by the fact that her government had no envoy or diplomatic agent, not even a certified consul in Naples. The king, his fame and bravery, were the perpetual object of her homage. Among the living images that were sometimes performed at her house, one evening one saw the bust of Joachim crowned with laurels under a palm tree; two ladies of the Neapolitan aristocracy presented Hebe and Fama, while the princess, as Parthenope, inscribed Murat's name in the Book of Immortality. At last the extravagant lady fell quite seriously in love with the handsome Gascon, did not exert the least compulsion to let him notice it on every occasion and in every conceivable way, and, when she did not see her passion reciprocated, threw her hatred on the queen, whom she sought to divide with her husband; in short, she behaved in such a way that all the world took offence at her conduct, most of all the English, who made loud comments about her.

If Joachim remained impervious to Princess Caroline's displays of affection, he found himself all the more seduced by the political flattery with which she pricked his ears and which he believed to be confirmed by various other quarters. In the London Parliament many voices of opposition, especially Lord Oxford and General Wilson, had risen in his favour, and now he imagined that his recognition by the British was as much as settled, so that he had no further need of Austria. An English doctor, Griffith by name, presented himself to the King as a close acquaintance of a friend of the Prince-Regent, offered to help him in London and elicited political secrets of the most delicate kind from the gullible man.

The fires of war blazed anew in Joachim's veins and external circumstances helped to stoke them. He was now almost at war with his territorial neighbour the Pope. In the first days of February 1815, he showed Count Mier the letter of one of his generals commanding in the Marches, which spoke of an unusual accumulation of papal military, of the formation of volunteer armies in the border regions: "everything pointed to an imminent invasion and he requested instructions and supplies of troops from the king". Murat complied with the last request by reinforcing the border cordon against the Roman by the Velite regiment of the Guard, 9 February. Postal traffic between the two neighbouring states was disrupted and soon ceased altogether, so that Naples had to think of opening a new line through the Abruzzi via Ancona and Bologna for the dispatch of letters to the north. Bad news also came from France: in Franche-Comté Dauphiné Provence an army force of 30,000 men was assembled, which seemed to have no other goal than Naples. Murat took this as a pretext for getting ready to march and sent word to Vienna that he intended to lead an army of 80,000 men against the French border, for which purpose he would be allowed to march through central and upper Italy, his troops would keep to strict discipline and pay everything in due time. However, Emperor Francis was far from agreeing to such a far-reaching request. Austria, he told the Neapolitan plenipotentiary, could not allow the peace of the peninsula to be disturbed by such a military development and would also inform the Cabinet of Versailles of this negative answer (25 and 26 February). At the same time, orders were given in Vienna to reinforce the troops in Lombardy and in the Venetian region in order to counter any hostile undertakings planned by the other side.

[End of Chapter 2. The Hundred Days are coming.]

[crystaljins]

When the ice melts

Characters: Jimin x Reader

Word count: 10.8K

Synopsis:  They say never meet your heroes, and never has that been truer than when you meet your idol- former figure skater and two time Olympic athlete, Park Jimin. But maybe you can turn things around...

Sports!au (Figure skating) + prompt: “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Notes: Here is my entry for the btsboulangerie August prompt! I will say, the only things I know about figure skating is from hours of watching Yuzuru Hanyu skate and let’s be real, he inspired a lot of the plotline to this fic. Do yourself a favour and look up the following things on youtube before reading:  Yuzuru Hanyu’s performance at the 2014 Cup of China, his performance to Notte Stellata, and Mao Asada’s performance to Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 2 (I can send you the links to all of these if you PM me ;).)

Huge shoutout to @yoongi-sugaglider for her inspiration and encouragement while writing this fic.

EDIT: Now with bonus drabble found here.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, bits of angst and fluff, a few scenes that a bit suggestive but not explicit, mentions of hooking up at a club.

 You’re sceptical from the moment you set foot into the club.

“Are you sure he’s here, Jungkook?” You call out urgently to your friend, struggling to keep up with him amidst the mass of pulsating bodies. You’re surprised he hears you over the heavily thumping bass.

“This is the kind of place you’re always going to find Jimin in. At least since his accident, that is.” Jungkook answers ominously as he continues to plough carelessly forward. He is nowhere near as uneasy as you are in such a place. As he loves to remind you, he has actively engaged in a social life outside of the ice rink you spend most of your waking hours in. In fact, after high school he actually lost most of his interest in being on the ice, despite his former status as a talented and well-loved hockey player. Instead he now focuses his attention into his degree in sports science. He still works at the ice rink your father owns part time, however, and it was during one of his shifts that he let slip that he personally knew your hero and idol, Park Jimin.

It was that fact that had led you to your current location. Park Jimin, two-time Olympic gold medallist and possibly the most skilled and talented figure skater in the history of the sport, had dropped off the ice-skating radar just two years prior. Such a fact had not deterred you from viewing him with the adoration and eagerness that only a loyal fan could understand. And so, the revelation that your good friend Jungkook knew him personally could only have one possible outcome. You had demanded that he introduce you to your hero. You’ve been a fan of Jimin since his first gold medal win at the tender age of 16, while you had been a starry-eyed 12-year-old taking figure skating lessons in the ice rink your father owned. And after much pestering and begging, Jungkook finally agreed to arrange your meeting.

Had Jungkook more tact and emotional sensitivity, he may have possibly taken you aside and reminded you of the sobering fact: One should never meet one’s hero. He does no such thing, however, and you are so busy in your eager plotting of how you could ask Jimin to coach you that you don’t even pause to consider the fact that you might be disappointed.  

As it stands, you nearly collide with Jungkook’s sturdy back when he halts without warning before a plush booth built into the wall of the night club. Your heart nearly skips a beat- this is it, you realise, as you lean ever so slightly to peer around your friend’s back. This is the pinnacle of your career. From the moment you first laid eyes on Jimin’s skills, you have eagerly awaited this moment. His poster has been on your bedroom wall for nearly ten years at this stage. You’ve never been fortunate to see one of his routines live- this is the first opportunity you have ever had to see your role model up close. You inhale deeply as you focus your eyes on his figure.

Only to find him otherwise occupied. He is engaged in a fierce lip-lock with a young woman who seems very comfortable seated upon his lap. Immediately you are mortified and straighten, allowing Jungkook to once more obscure your view of Jimin. It is not like you expected much from his meeting, or that you had anything more than the sort of crush a schoolgirl might have on a celebrity, but it is still, for some reason, crushing to see him in such a way. Your intentions in meeting him had been entirely innocent- you just want him to choreograph your next routine for the competition you have coming up. You had been recruited for the national team on the Olympics just 6 months earlier and this will be your last solo competition before you begin training with the national team for the Olympics which takes place in just one year. A chance to work with Park Jimin would be a tick on your bucket list. Still, your visceral reaction is also due to the realisation that perhaps Jungkook had not warned Jimin that he had arranged your meeting. Which means your request could be entirely unwelcome.

Jungkook seems undeterred by Jimin’s activities and folds his arms. He clears his throat loudly. The music is quieter here and normal conversation is possible, but Jimin does not immediately detangle from his… friend and so you think that perhaps he hasn’t heard Jungkook. But Jungkook merely waits and eventually Jimin pulls away with a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m busy.” Jimin snaps, and these are the first words you hear from your hero. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I only agreed to meet you here and not in a coffeeshop because you promised you wouldn’t pull this kind of stunt. You’re being rude to my friend.” Jungkook complains. Jimin smiles apologetically at the girl in his lap, who seems unbothered by the interruption and merely gets to her feet and vanishes into the crowd without a word of greeting. Jimin stares after her for a long moment before allowing his gaze to settle on you and Jungkook. You suddenly feel exposed beneath his stare- you should have dressed more nicely, more impressively. Isn’t appearance so important in the sport you have chosen? The unimpressed expression upon Jimin’s face as his eyes slide passively over you certainly confirms that.

“Hello,” You begin with an awkward smile, ducking your head politely. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you! I’m (Y/N) and I wanted to ask you if you’d-“

“This is the girl you were telling me about, Kook?” Jimin interrupts. Up close, he is beautiful in a way that cameras and youtube videos cannot portray. His face is smooth and sculpted and there is a chilling beauty to the detached way he regards you. There is also a subtle disgust to his gaze that mars his handsome features, however. And its directed purely at you- beneath its intensity you feel your gut roll and you battle the urge to empty the contents of your stomach before his neatly polished shoes. “Her?” He repeats for emphasis. “In the Olympics?”

Jungkook, ever the loyal friend, looks like he may actually leap to your defence. But you are quicker. Though you have always been on the quieter side, too preoccupied with your sport to focus on much else, you have never lacked a backbone. And if there’s one thing you are confident about, it is your skill on the ice. Suddenly you feel anger. How dare Jimin, legendary ice skater or not, evaluate your skill and worthiness to be in the Olympics without even having glimpsed your ice skating? How dare he be so shallow as to think your outward appearance is in anyway indicative of your passion and joy in your beloved sport?

“How dare you.” You snarl. Jimin looks mildly amused at your anger and watches you through narrowed eyes.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” He mocks. He leans forward and rests his chin idly in his hand. His hair is pushed up and carefully done and it is no wonder that women would fawn over him in such away. He is unfairly handsome in his white button down and well-fitted black trousers. “Do you think you’re special? Do you even know what it takes to get to the Olympics? Because I do, and,” He looks you up and down, your frumpy sweater and messy hair. He wrinkles his nose. You’d come straight from the rink because Jungkook hadn’t told you Jimin would be at a club, and so you look completely out of place. “I don’t think you have it.”

“You haven’t even seen me skate.” You retort hotly. You had never imagined you would one day address your idol with such contempt. But he has proven to be anything but the man you used to worship. Jimin seems surprised at your vitriolic interruption. You look at Jungkook, who looks apologetic and inhale deeply. “I was going to ask you to coach me, and honestly, I would have walked away without a complaint if you’d just said no. But you don’t get to judge my worthiness to be on the ice without even seeing how I skate. I bleed, sweat, and cry on that ice. You don’t get to scoff at me before you’ve even seen what I can do.”

You cannot, for the life of you, give a reason behind your next action. But fuelled by your anger and indignance, you reach into your bag and pull out a crumpled flyer, with the address and directions to your father’s ice rink printed across it. You hold it out towards Jimin who, after a moment of hesitation, accepts the piece of paper.

“I’ll be here practicing tomorrow, if you change your mind and want to see what I can do.” You say quickly. “If you want a chance to be part of something big, then I guess I’ll see you there. But if you want to sit here and get drunk and reminisce about when you had what it took, then be my guess. Have fun watching me perform at the Olympics and knowing you could have been there with me.”

And with that, you stride off, leaving Jimin alone at his booth with an impressed Jungkook in tow.

“Wow, ice queen,” Jungkook calls, when you’re outside the club and able to converse at a normal volume once more. “I never thought you had it in you.”

You don’t pause your hurried walking, however, until you are sure you have left the club well behind.

And then you promptly crumble to the ground, hands shaking and eyes wide.

“Did I… did I really just say all that?” You asks breathily, dizzy now that the adrenaline and anger has fled your system. “To the Park Jimin?” Jungkook laughs and pulls you to your feet with a hand around your arm.

“You absolutely did.” Jungkook declares proudly. “And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you skating tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said all that!” You lament, and Jungkook laughs.

“As much as I love him, Jimin has needed a kick in the arse ever since his injury and he needs more in his life than just alcohol and girls. You did a good thing. Now come on, I’ll drop you home so you can get a good rest before showing Jimin how it’s really done.” Jungkook reassures you, dragging you off before you can freak out any further.

And you placidly follow, now filled with dread at what is to come.

++

The sun is too bright and the inside of Jimin’s mouth tastes worse than a men’s urinal. He’s hungover and grumpy and your irritating words ring in his head. And the absolute icing on the cake- he wakes up alone in his bed, instead of with the hot girl he’d been on the verge of going home with before you showed up. He’s going to kill Jungkook. He should have known from the second that Jungkook offhandedly mentioned he had a friend good enough to be in the Olympics that last night was going to suck.

So then, why the hell does Jimin find himself gazing with disgust at the ice rink you had mentioned you’d be practicing at, not an hour after that awful wakeup? He can still vaguely taste vomit in the back of his throat and the sunglasses he wears aren’t big enough or dark enough to lessen the stabbing sensation from the sun. He shouldn’t have drunk nearly as much as he did last night but he’d needed to forget. Your voice and your face and that look in your eyes. The spark, as you had talked about your skating. He’s seen it before- he used to see it every day, when he looked in the mirror before leaving for early morning practice. That spark has long since died- it’s been gone since the moment the doctors told him he would never skate competitively again.

It’s not too late- he can still leave. Pretend he never saw you and that your words didn’t burrow frustratingly deep beneath is skin. He could go back to his life of partying and drinking and struggling to forget a life he cannot leave behind. But he doesn’t want to. He needs vindication- he needs to see how bad you are, so that he can close up the gaping wound you’d reopened. So many old feelings of hurt and bitterness and agony have suddenly been dredged up and he needs something to seal it over. To ignore the ragged, ugly scar on his heart, and this time all the alcohol and drugs and women in the world will not smooth the rough edges. So he sips aggressively from the cheap coffee he’d picked up on the way which tastes like garbage and doesn’t even bother to remove his shades as he steps into the ice-skating rink.

At this hour, there is no one present but you. He’s momentarily taken aback to see you, alone in the centre of the rink. You look different to the uneasy, poorly dressed young woman from last night. You had looked like a geek desperately in need of a makeover from a cheesy teen movie, but the lone figure in a sapphire blue dress ice looks… different. He can’t find the words but something foreign heats in his veins as he is overcome with something other than the nausea and disgust that he usually feels when presented with any aspect of his past.

Music startles him as it crackles in through the speaker. His heart leaps into his throat as he recognises the tune- Notte Stellata. You don’t even know he’s there, yet it can’t be a coincidence that that is the song you have chosen to practice. You extend your arms slowly in a delicate pose as the opening strains filter slowly through the air and he sees your shoulders raise in a gentle inhale.

And then you are gliding across the ice. If the spark he had seen in your eyes last night was enough to plague his thoughts for so many hours, it is nothing compared to the way you smoothly cut through the rink. Perhaps, he thinks, you were not born. Perhaps you were carefully crafted with a loving heart to soar on angel wings formed from thin silver blades. You lift into the air in a triple lutz and land with the lightness and grace of a swan and then you extend your arms outwards.

You’re beautiful. But suddenly it is not you or your performance that Jimin is seeing. Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, another figure that dances over the smooth pool. The figure cuts across the ice with an impressive power and grace- that figure brought tears to the eyes of people who knew nothing about figure skating. That figure was him. People called him the Swan, because of his grace and beauty on the ice. Magazine articles had described him as an artwork as intricate and valuable as the Mona Lisa or Van Gogh’s starry night. It was to this very song that he had stood on a podium at the Olympics and proudly received his first gold medal.

He squeezes his eyes shut before he can be greeted with what happened to that beautiful, mysterious figure. For it had all evaporated like a dream- the kind you awaken from with tears on your face without fully understanding why. His entire life had been ruined in one go. Just one year after his triumphant second gold medal win, he had been in a car accident. His body, carefully trained to float with ease over the ice, to make powerful, jaw-dropping manoeuvres seem as simple as inhaling and exhaling, had refused to obey him. A broken leg, shattered in a way that would never heal properly enough to allow him to competitively skate again. No amount of physiotherapy or surgery or desperation would allow him to shine in the Olympic rink again. There would be no third gold medal win. Every single moment of hard work throughout his entire youth was gone in a single accident.

And when he opens his eyes, only you remain on the ice, hauntingly beautiful in the way that he had thought only ice can be. Lonely and cold yet majestic. Figure skating is about conquering- about overcoming the harsh, unwelcoming cold and holding your ground through gravity defying flips and tricks. Constantly, the sport strips you of warmth and comfort and familiarity and requires gruelling work and pain and blood and danger. It takes something special to make something so ugly and painful look so beautiful. And that it what you have just done on the ice. Tears pour down his face and he is thankful for the way his sunglasses hide the agony that no doubt lingers in his expression. It’s been two whole year and yet the grief is as fresh as if it were yesterday. Somehow, despite the pains such a sport brings, his happiness was on that ice and it was been cruelly torn from him before he could even fathom what its loss would mean.

He clears his throat and covers his face by taking a long sip from his coffee cup as you are startled from your finishing pose. You were completely unaware of his presence and somehow that makes your performance more startingly beautiful- even alone, just practicing, there is such emotion and power in your skating. He now understands, why you were so offended when he brushed you off based off of a cursory glance. You are amazing- better even than he had been, perhaps.  And now he understands what you are- a chance to be part of something he had thought he had been removed from. He’s never been able to cut the love of figure skating away from himself- he would have better luck sawing out his own heart. And you have presented him with a chance to relive that joy- through you.

“A week,” He calls. Your hand is clasped over your heart, absolutely stunned by his presence. It is charming, that despite inviting him, you genuinely do not seem to have expected him to come. But he has come, and he’s going to take out all his fear and pain on you. He’s going to take you to the Olympics, and you have no one to blame but yourself. “Give me a week to work out a routine. You’re going to get a gold medal in this comp.”

And he can’t resist a parting shot as he leaves, before he takes his leave. Just one petty phrase, for the sake of his ego.

“Your landing for the double axel was too heavy and uncoordinated.”

And yet somehow you watch him go with an excited smile on your face.

++

A week later you arrive at the ice rink, your entire body pulsing with nerves. You had not thought Jimin would agree to choreograph your performance, and yet here you are. You can’t help but feel a bit of pride- your skating had clearly won him over, somehow. And so ,with your blood roaring through your veins, you take a step into the ice rink, feeling the familiar way cold air fills your lungs and settles into the base of your chest. You’ve always found the sensation enlivening- never are you more alive than when you are on the ice. And while you have your reservations about working with Jimin, especially after his rude behaviour, you cannot kill the flame of excitement that flickers deep in your stomach. This is a dream come true.

Jimin waits alone in the centre of the ice-skating rink. At your arriving footsteps, he turns slowly and watches your advance towards him with a curious look to his eyes. It’s an intensely probing stare, like he is evaluating every step of your body, measuring the weight that lands in your skates against the ground with each footstep. And then he slowly smiles and your heart flutters. Jimin is beautiful in an inhuman way and that he should ever look at you in such a way is more than your delicate heart can handle. You swallow deeply before stepping onto the ice and gliding towards him with a practiced ease you hope conveys grace and beauty.

Jimin tilts his head and keeps his arms folded across his chest as you stop before him. As you do you register the sombre, heavy tune of a piano concerto crackle through the speakers of your father’s ice-skating rink. It starts slow, with dark chords ringing through the air and climbing in intensity. Gradually the melody crests and builds until the piano erupts in a complex and powerful virtuosic passage, given weight and power by a grave string accompaniment.

“This was his second concerto.” Jimin says, instead of offering you a greeting. “Rachmaninoff’s, I mean. His first ever concerto was met with heavy criticism. It was an extremely challenging piece to write- it took him ten months to write and yet his efforts were spat on. And in the three years that followed he was depressed from the backlash and unable to write anymore. This song is his return after three years of darkness, and it brought his career back from the dead. This,” He informs you. “Is the song you will perform to at the competition for your free program.”

You stare wonderingly at Jimin for a moment and shut your eyes as the mood of the piece shifts to something lighter and freer. The piano bounces along and the orchestra follows behind yet hints of the initial darkness still linger despite the bright tone. You can hear it- the composer’s pain, his determination to clamber back from the pits of despair. You want to dance to this song. An intense longing fills you.

“Can you do it? It won’t be an easy piece to skate to.” Jimin asks, and you peer back at him with your jaw set in determination. The expression wins a slight smile from him.

“I can.” You reassure him. He nods and walks forward. He is not wearing skates- instead he wears heavy boots on the ice. Likely, the instability in his ankle means he cannot balance in skates without significant pain. And you are his chance to overcome that, you suppose. You will do for him what he can no longer achieve.

And thus begins your gruelling practice. You’ve pushed yourself hard before but never in the way that Jimin pushes you. Jimin, much as you suspected he would, has very little patience and his little experience with teaching means he gets frustrated easily when you do not pick things up in the way that he assumed you would. You are soaking in sweat as practice goes on despite the fact the ice-skating rink is kept at such a low temperature.

“Extend your leg further.” Jimin urges, combing a hand through his hair in frustration for what is probably the fifth time. “The pose looks messy if you’re all loose and floppy like that.” You wince and attempt to follow his instruction once more. You’ve been going for hours by this stage. “Once more from the triple lutz.” He snaps, stepping off the ice to give you the room to launch into such a complex and difficult leap. But your body is exhausted from such intensive exercise and from the second you catapult yourself in the air you know you’ve done it wrong. You lift unevenly into the air and though you clench your core and attempt to right yourself, it is too late. You come down at completely the wrong angle and wince as your ankle takes the brunt of your weight. Pain lances up your leg as you crumble, and your body continues to slide.

When you lose enough momentum to begin picking yourself back up off the ice, Jimin skids to a halt, sending up a spray of ice chips. He’s clearly carelessly sprinted across the ice to get to you and he throws himself down beside you without a thought as to his wellbeing. You hadn’t thought him capable of such concern for someone other than himself.

“Are you ok?” He cries out in alarm, wrapping his hands around your outstretched ankle. Despite the low temperature of the room, his fingers are somehow still warm, and you had not realised how chilled your body was until you feel the heat encircle your leg. Carefully, he rolls the ankle you had landed on back and forth and around, scrutinising your face for the slightest hint of pain. It is tender, but you know tomorrow you’ll wake up and not even remember what ankle you had hurt.

“I’m fine.” You wave him off with a smile. “Let’s try that again.” You say, about to get up, but a firm hand against your shoulder keeps you down.

“No.” Jimin almost growls, and there is a sternness and barely repressed anger to the glare he gives you that pins you in place. “It was stupid of me to push you this hard. Let’s get dinner and we can pick it back up tomorrow if you’re feeling ok. We’ll get some ice on this too.”

Despite your protests, Jimin decides to take you out for dinner that night. You almost succeed in wriggling out of it, but a growl of your stomach has him urging you to come along with renewed determination. And to make it more embarrassing, as soon as you arrive at the restaurant, he drags over a second chair and makes you rest your injured leg on it, placing the ice pack over your tender ankle with a gentleness that makes you uneasy for reasons you cannot understand.

“That’s more than enough for today.” He scolds you. “You need to take care of yourself after an injury or you won’t make it very far.”

He settles opposite you and orders you both food.

“My coach used to always take me out for hot soup afterwards. Said we had to warm ourselves up after being in the cold so long.” He remembers fondly as the two of you await your meals. He seems so different from the asshole you met in the club a mere week ago and you still aren’t even sure what made him change so drastically. “He was the best coach in the world. I only made it to the Olympics thanks to him.”

“Are you trying to follow in his footsteps?” You ask in an attempt to subtly determine his motive. Jimin shrugs and shakes his head as the waitress sets down two steaming hot bowls of soup before you.

“Who knows.” He admits. “Even I’m not sure what I’m trying to achieve. A week ago, all I cared about was getting drunk enough to forget what the Olympics were.”

He watches you curiously as you lean forward and raise a spoonful of salty broth to your lips.

“Why did you come, then?” You say, finally asking the question that has been itching at you since you received the text asking you to come to the ice rink. You can probably guess the answer, but you want to hear it from him. He’s made a drastic change after his awful first impression and you aren’t entirely sure he’s someone you can trust yet.

Jimin doesn’t answer for a long moment. Instead he takes a long sip of his soup and fidgets with the noodles that float in the broth. Finally, he raises his eyes to you and there’s a look to his eyes that you can’t seem to interpret. Somehow it is a gaze filled with sadness and yet he looks so peaceful at the same time.

“I love skating.” He admits. “There was a time where it was my whole world. To have it taken so suddenly, with no warning…” He sighs and shakes his head. “I felt like I had nothing yet. But I believe that sometimes we are given second chances, and that’s what you are. My second chance. I want to see you in the Olympic rink. I want the entire world to shed tears because they’ve seen true beauty. And I can’t convey that beauty anymore, but you can. I know you can.” He confesses, and to his credit, his ears are only tinged the slightest bit pink. You stare at him, completely gobsmacked. How can you even fathom such high praise? “But now it’s my turn, to ask you a question.” He admits, his eyes sharpening with interest. You wince, a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but you know it is necessary.

“Ask away.” You say, because you suppose that as your coach, he has a right to know about you to at least some degree.

“Why me?” He finally asks, after a moment of hesitation. “Where’s your coach? Why are you even entering this competition if you’ve already been selected to be on the Olympic team?”

The silence between the two of you stretches out for a long moment. You take the opportunity to shove a few mouthfuls of soup into your mouth. It’s not an unexpected question. In fact, he probably should have asked the question long before agreeing to coach you, to make sure he wasn’t stealing someone else’s athlete, and the fact that he hasn’t asked you before now means he probably senses it’s not a question you are ready to be asked. But with the atmosphere between the two of you warm and comfortable, now is the best time for him to ask.

“She died.” You say nonchalantly. The soup suddenly tastes bland, but you continue to eat it. It provides you a distraction from the heaviness of the conversation. “Six months ago. It was cancer. I had just gotten scouted to be on the national team and we realised she wouldn’t make it to the Olympics, probably. So this was our compromise. She was fighting so hard because she wanted to see me skate one last time and… she… she didn’t get to. She died a week later.”

Jimin stares at you in dismay, speechless. Perhaps he had suspected you’d had a falling out with your coach, or that you needed a new one now that you’ve been selected for the national team. He probably never could have guessed the horrible reality.

“(Y/N)…” He says softly. You shake your head and offer Jimin a slight smile.

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’m doing ok. My parents have been really supportive and have even been trying to find me a new coach. But I wanted you. I just thought it would be nice for my first comp after she… passed away. To this day, the routine you did to Notte Stellata brings me to tears and so I thought if you were the one choreographing, then I’d give a performance worthy of her legacy. One that she would have been proud to see.”

Jimin’s expression scrunches up at your words. You don’t shed a tear throughout the whole story even though it all feels so fresh. It still feels like she’s going to ring you and scold you for not being at practice or not following the strict diet regimen she always set for you. Somehow six months of grieving doesn’t feel like enough to get back on the ice, yet at the same time you are itching to go back out there. For her. She had been like a second mother to you and the fact that she didn’t get to see you skate one last time is a scar you know will never fully heal.

Jimin is a bit of an enigma, and you never know how he will react to something. Perhaps this is why his reaction to your story is such a surprise. He stares at you like he’s in pain. A single tear wells up in his left eye and rolls down his cheek, tracing down the smooth contours of his handsome face as it goes.

“Thank you. For that honour. I… Thank you. And I’m sorry for being harsh today. I’ve never been a teacher before and so I don’t know your limits or mine. But if you keep with me and tell me when I’ve gone too far, I believe we can do this.” He admits, and his voice is slightly raspy . “I… After I stopped skating, I didn’t have a purpose or goal in life. I’ve just kind of been… existing for so long. But… thank you. I think I finally have a purpose- I want to take you to the Olympics. I’d decided earlier that I want to go to the Olympics with you but I never actually asked you. Will you do it? Will you go to the Olympics with me?”

And Jimin is mean and harsh and awkward. He’s a drunkard and a loser and a shallow jerk. He’s not even qualified to be a coach and such an ambition with an inexperienced mentor could lead to the destruction of your own career. It would be foolish, to agree to go to the Olympics with him.

And then you recall, being a young teenager skating for the first time and watching his comps. Being lonely as you entered highschool with no friends and rushing home to watch his Olympic performance live. Following his rise to fame and shedding tears because his skating held a beauty you could not put into words. And therein lies your answer- it is thanks to the man sitting before you that you even dared to dream of the Olympics. Your dreams will always feel incomplete if it is not him you go to the Olympics with.

“Yes.” You say. “Let’s go to the Olympics together.”

++

After that first day, Jimin is softer and far less harsh. Every day he grows in patience. He remains a stern and difficult coach and choreographer, though. He pushes you far past what you think you can handle. But he never pushes you past what you can actually handle. He’s constantly vigilant, for signs of fatigue and always ends practice before you can go too far. And so, each night you go to bed and sleep deeply, satisfied with the work you have done. His choreography is technically difficult and extremely advanced and yet designed specifically with you, your capabilities and your strengths in mind. If you master it, it will carry you to a gold medal without any doubt.

It’s exciting. Who could have ever thought that one day it would be Park Jimin coaching you on the ice? Despite his inexperience with coaching, he knows figure skating really well and you find yourself improving drastically beneath his tutelage, as the months go by and the competition date approaches. He really could have a future as a coach if he was ever inclined to do so. If maybe he learned some people skills, that is.

“Extend your leg further,” He orders from behind you, placing a hand on your knee to prevent your instinct to fold it as he uses the hand wrapped around your ankle to lift your outstretched leg a bit higher. His hands are almost hot on the skin of your legs. You hadn’t realised how much your body had chilled beneath the air-conditioning of the gym you are currently in. You wince as he begins to hit the limits of your flexibility and wobble just the slightest bit.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he shoots you a glare.

“Was that a wobble?” He asks, his tone venomous. Your eyes go wide. Today is one of the days you practice off the ice- one foot is placed in the centre of a balance ball while Jimin adjusts your posture. Despite the ways in which you two have grown quite close, he still comes across as very menacing when he enters what you call “coach mode”.

“N-no.” You stutter as you lie. He releases your leg and you know he expects you to maintain the position. You do, though not without a slight fluctuation. Jimin’s sharp eyes catch the movement though and he walks around so that he is facing you, hands planted intimidatingly on his hips.

“A wobble could cost you your career.” He reminds you, and this is the third time he’s lectured you about this in the past three days. “All it takes is for you to launch yourself airborne from just slightly the wrong angle and you could break a leg.” He scowls, and he steps in close. You drop your outstretched leg and hop off the balance ball. You roll your eyes and fold your arms across your chest, refusing to cower at his ‘angry coach’ vibe. And maybe you would have gotten back on the balance ball obediently if it weren’t for the muttered, irritated comment that follows: “How can a figure skater be so inflexible?” He laments.

“Excuse me?” You blurt, eyes wide in outrage. “I am flexible!”

He winces, probably because he didn’t intend for you to overhear the comment, but also because he’s now quite familiar with the certain buttons he should never push while coaching you. For the most part, you are a reasonable student, one who follows his instructions diligently and practices hard. But any time the slightest comment is made about your skill or ability as a figure skater that isn’t constructive or contributing towards your improvement, you go slightly beserk. And this is one of those moments.

“I’ll prove it to you!” You cry, striding over to the yoga mat laid out in the corner. You almost throw yourself down on your back and glare at him. “Do the stretch! The warm-up hip one.” You order. He almost groans in irritation- the stretch in question is one he had suggested at a different practice to help keep your hips loose. But you had been too embarrassed to try it due to the intimacy of the positioning and so he hadn’t pushed you. But now, your pride has been hurt, and you are going to prove him wrong, embarrassment be damned. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, scolding himself for his slip up, before kneeling over you and locking his ankle over one of your outstretched legs. He then wraps his fingers around your other leg, placing the flat of one palm against the heel of your foot and the other over your knee, before slowly lifting one leg towards your head.

“Tell me when.” He says with a sigh, his tone resigned.

“I won’t.” You reassure him petulantly. “You’ll see how flexible I am.”

And really his comment was quite unnecessary, because flexibility is a vital skill as a figure skater. A fact which is demonstrated as Jimin continues to push your leg towards your head. You wait eagerly for him to admit that he was wrong as it reaches the point where you are almost doing the splits, but it never comes. Instead, Jimin has gone oddly quiet from where he kneels between your leg. Puzzled, you tilt your head to meet his gaze to find that his stare has gone oddly misty. His lips are slightly parted, and his eyes are fixed on where his hand presses to the heel of your foot.

“Jimin?” You call. It rings out oddly loud in the quietness of the section of the gym you are in, like a gunshot. Jimin flinches like he’s been punched in the stomach. His eyes land on yours and they are oddly wide. The expression reminds you of the face a child might pull if they were caught in the middle of stealing candy from a jar. Wide and panicked and a little bit glazed.

“I…” He says slowly, and his voice is a little bit croaky. He clears his throat and moistens his lips with his tongue before trying again. “I…”

You don’t get to find out what he was planning to say though, because in the next moment you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out.

“Special delivery!” He cries. Jimin drops your leg like he’s been burnt and scrambles away like you have rabies. He takes a moment to frantically smooth out his clothes and run his hands nervously through his hair, before turning to face the intruder who strides quickly towards you. There is a wide grin on Jungkook’s face, and he waves a large package wrapped in brown paper towards the two of you. You sit up and watch curiously as Jungkook prances forward. Jimin, oddly, still has a lot of nervous energy and gives off an oddly frantic air and when his gaze lands on the package in Jungkook’s hand, it seemingly worsens.

“Jungkook!” Jimin cries, eyes bugging out of his head and his face almost going purple, so severe is his blush. “How did you get that?”

Jungkook skids to a stop between the two of you and beams cheekily.

“You had it delivered to the rink.” He says coyly, wiggling the package playfully in front of Jimin’s eyes. Jimin makes a hasty snatch at it and grabs it out of Jungkook’s hands. It’s a fairly bulky package. “But I knew you two were here, so I thought I’d use my lunch break to come visit the two of you and deliver the package.”

By now you are standing, and you move in close to examine the package.

“What is it?” You ask curiously, and then it’s shoved unceremoniously into your arms by a surprisingly flustered Jimin.

“It’s for you.” He says quickly, his head turned determinedly in the opposite direction of you. “I ordered it online- I thought you could wear it for the comp.”

You blink a few times, confused. But then you peel away the brown paper wrapping to reveal the contents within. It’s a figure skating dress. The skirt is a deep, midnight blue though the torso is something icier and paler. They mix together in a gentle gradient and jewels scattered over the bodice glint like starts as the catch the light above you. The sleeves and décolleté are nude- when you wear it, it will look like you are painted in the night sky. Your throat goes hot and sticky and you find yourself battling tears at the thoughtful gesture.

“Jimin,” You say softly, genuinely touched. He smiles and rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“It’s nothing… it was on sale and I thought it would look nice on you.” He admits sheepishly. “I was just going to leave it in your locker later today, but I guess someone had other plans.” Jimin shoots a meaningful but venom-filled look at his friend, but you are too preoccupied with examining your new outfit to notice. You clutch it tightly between your fingers.

“I have something for you too.” You announce suddenly. “Wait right here. It’s in my locker.” You urge, turning around and sprinting across the gym. A few people at the cycling machines pause their exercise to watch you go.

Jimin uses the opportunity to whirl on Jungkook.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Jimin snarls, and Jungkook laughs and dodges a swipe from Jimin. “I didn’t ask for a personal delivery!”

“Of course I did.” Jungkook cries mirthfully. “Did you think I’d pass up an opportunity to see you actually be nice while sober? Her reaction was so sweet, wasn’t it? Don’t you just wanna hug her and kiss her and stop being a douchebag 90% of the time? Oh man, I’ve never seen you go that shade of red before. Totally worth the drive over here.” Jungkook wipes at amused tears that are pooling in the corners of his eyes. “I mean, I also came over because there’s a sushi place next door that is to die for and (Y/N)’s father is treating me to lunch, but this has been a great little adventure. Thanks for the show, Jimin.” Jungkook says, waving his friend goodbye. Jimin aims another whack at the back of Jungkook’s head, but his reactions are quicker, and he merely darts off. He whistles a cheerful tune as he goes. Jimin is about to follow after him and give Jungkook a proper piece of his mind, but you arrive back beside him before he can do so. You’re slightly out of breath from your quick sprint, but you quickly straighten and beam.

“There’s a bit of back story behind this.” You explain, stretching out your hand and uncurling your fingers to reveal a long, thin box that fits easily into your hand. Curiously, Jimin accepts it and is about to remove the lid but you hastily place your hands over his to stop the movement. Your fingers are slightly cold, and his eyes catch on the contrast of your skin against his. “I bought this for you right after your second Olympics win.” You confess, and you drop your gaze from his. There’s embarrassment in your expression and it’s oddly endearing. Jimin feels an odd, fluttering feeling just beneath his sternum. But then your words register and he’s a bit confused.

“I didn’t know you then, though- that was 3 years ago.” He reminds you and you shake your head and smile.

“I’ve been your fan since I was 12 years old though!” You exclaim. “I bought it because I was going to mail it to you to show my support. And I never plucked up the courage to do it until my coach managed to get me a seat at one of the comps you were supposed perform at. I was going to throw it onto the ice after you performed. But you… you never got to perform.” You say softly, and Jimin feels himself tense just the slightest bit. He knows the competition you are talking about- it was one of the few ones in his hometown he still competed in. But then the accident had happened, and he’d cancelled his registration. “But I kept this all these years because I still wanted to meet you. Even if you couldn’t skate anymore, you were and are still my hero. And I found it again the other day and realised that I finally have the chance to give it to you.”

Slowly, you release your grip on his hands enough that he’s able to pull the lid off the small box. A thin silver chain rests in it and in the centre against black velvet lies a tiny pendant shaped like a cat. He blinks at it a few times in confusion.

“You always talked about your family cat growing up in interviews. The fat tortoiseshell one. You said she was your inspiration because of her calm approach to life.” You recall fondly. “And fans always through cat plushies onto the ice because of that and I guess I wanted to set myself apart a little.”

Jimin just stares incredulously at the little trinket. It should be offensive, to have such a reminder of how his life has gone wrong resting in his hands. And as a gift from you, no less. But it isn’t offensive, for some reason. It’s touching. It’s flattering. Slowly a smile grows on his face and his hands start to tremble. There’s a warm, full feeling in his chest. What an honour, to have someone like you be such a loyal fan. To have kept this reminder of his golden years despite the fact that you’d never even met him. And your skating is so beautiful and with enough time will outshine his own, but it’s thanks to him. He inspired that beauty in you, and to know that is an honour and joy and privilege that he will carry with him throughout the rest of his life. And this necklace symbolises all of that.

“Thank you.” He mutters softly. He raises his eyes off the pendant to look at you. Your eyes are slightly round and a little uneasy, but when he responds with gratitude a smile splits your face. “But I can’t accept this.” He tells you with a smile. With careful fingers, he plucks the necklace from its box and comfortable bed of velvet, and steps towards you. “This necklace is yours.” He says. You seem to sense what he’s trying to do as he steps in close, because you raise your hair off the back of your neck to allow him to put the necklace on for you. It clasps shut and falls to rest safely against your collarbone.

You stare up at Jimin and you don’t really understand the tenderness in his gaze, or the ensuing ache in your chest in response. You just feel… happy. Warm. Excited. There’s so many feelings racing through your chest and while you don’t have the time to process them now, you know that things will go well. Instead of pulling away after fixing the necklace in place, Jimin leans in close so that his lips almost brush your ear. You feel your face heat.

“Take it to the Olympics for me.” He whispers softly.

++

The day of the competition dawns bright and sunny. Jimin is gripped with a fluttery kind of nerves. It’s a thrilling sensation though, one he hasn’t felt since he’d been able to skate. So much of his time has been spent in darkness, spiralling deeper and deeper away from the sun and suddenly today he feels a warmth and brightness he hadn’t realised he’d been missing.

You nail the short program in the morning and are all smiles and jitters as you come off the ice. You’re leading with your point score and if you follow the routine for your free program well, then you’ll take the gold medal home for sure.

“Did I do well?” You ask breathlessly, the second you step off the ice. You stumble a bit, shaky from the adrenaline, and Jimin steadies you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“She’d have been so proud.” He reassures you warmly and the resulting beam you give him makes him think that nothing could drag him down.

There is something that could drag him down, though he doesn’t know it in that moment.

Typically, there is a break in the middle of the day, where skaters are allowed to have a warmup on the ice before the afternoon program starts. Jimin is a little hesitant to have you out on the ice, though he can’t really put into words. He writes it off as just nerves though, and sees you off onto the ice with a smile. He doesn’t really focus much on your warmup- you know what to do. Instead, he scans the seating section where he knows Jungkook is. It doesn’t take much time to locate him and Jimin quickly darts up into the audience section towards his friend. Jungkook is waving a little paddle pop stick with an unflattering image of you stuck to the end and watches the figure skaters warm up with his mouth slightly ajar.

“She’s really good, huh?” Jungkook admits aloud, as Jimin takes a seat next to him. Jimin grins and nods.

“She’s got this one in the bag.” Jimin brags, and Jungkook offers him a strange smile.

“She really did a number on you.” Jungkook says suddenly, with a laugh. “To think, just a couple of months ago you’d be angry and hungover at this time of day. And now you’re smiling and laughing. I really think that (Y/N) is the best thing to happen to you.”

Normally, Jimin would deny it. Maybe flush a little and frantically discourage Jungkook from such a sentiment. But for some reason, he can’t bring himself to do it- probably because he can’t deny the weight and truth of such a statement.

“She is.” Jimin admits softly. Jungkook’s jaw drops in response, but a ruckus on the ice distracts him from whatever response he may have given.

Puzzled, Jimin directs his gaze to where medics are suddenly rushing onto the ice. And then, like two magnets clicking together, his gaze lands on you. You’re sprawled out on the ice, unmoving, with one of your competitors similarly collapsed. She, at least, is sitting up, looking slightly dazed and confused, but you are unmoving. Jimin’s heart leaps into his throat as he realises what has happened- there’s been a collision.

He leaps to his feet, but Jungkook’s hand around his wrist stops Jimin for rushing straight for the ice. Two medics help you to your feet and lead you off the ice.

“Wait.” Jungkook calls. “She’s ok- she’s standing up. Don’t get in the way of the medics. We can go to her after they’ve done first aid.”

Jimin glares at Jungkook, long and hard. His friend merely stares evenly back until Jimin reluctantly lowers himself back into his seat. He watches desperately as you are able to groggily step off the ice. Even at this distance, he can see the way blood streams down your face. Once he sees the dreadful crimson staining the ice, he can sit still no longer, and he gets to his feet and dashes off before Jungkook can say a word in response.

In the kiss and cry area, a crowd has gathered around you- some are medics, some are camera crew and some are your fellow competitors. Jimin shoves them carelessly out of the way, forcing himself forward until he is face to face with you. Your eyes are slightly out of focus and they’re in the middle of bandaging your head, and when you look up at him, your eyes fill with tears.

“Jimin,” You cry, choked. They haven’t cleaned up the blood yet - it has dripped down your neck and stained the misty blue of the outfit he had bought you. Jimin crumples to his knees in front of you.

“Is she ok?” He demands of the medic trimming a bandage for you. The medic winces and evaluates you.

“We think it’s just a minor concussion. She’ll be fine with some rest- but maybe she should skip the free program. Maybe if you take her home-“ The medic suggests tentatively, but you cry out in response.

“No!” You almost shout. The crowd buzzing around you goes silent at your outburst, but you don’t seem to notice. “I have to skate. I have to compete.” You cry, begging the medic, begging Jimin, begging anyone who can let you go back on the ice.

“(Y/N)…” Jimin calls quietly. “It’s ok- there will be other competitions. Your health is more import-“

“There won’t be.” You argue vehemently. “I promised her, Jimin. I promised her.” Tears are really streaming down your face now, mixing with the rivulets of blood that pour from the cut on your chin. You’re wearing the cat necklace and the silver is marred with angry droplets of red. You gently push the medic away and struggle to stand upright. You wobble a little, but you keep upright. It’s only minor injuries, but Jimin highly doubts you’d be able to skate properly like this. And if you take another fall, things may only get worse. Skating now could cost you your career. Blind panic rises in his chest and makes him nauseous- it reminds him of a darker time just two years ago, when he had been informed that he would never skate again. You’re so small and fragile and it’s something that could just as easily happen to you, but before you’ve even gotten the chance to compete. He can taste sour fear in the back of his throat.

But when Jimin looks into your eyes, he comes to understand something. As much as he wants to take you to the Olympics- as much as you yourself probably want to go to the Olympics, this takes priority. He remembers how important his coach had been to him during his career, and how he would have reacted if anything happened to him. He can’t imagine what you must have gone through- what it must have taken, to get back on the ice, just six months after her death. You have to do this, and though his heart aches with fear and agony at the thought of you endangering yourself again, he knows that you will never forgive yourself if you don’t do this. You are skating for her and he doesn’t have a right to stop you.

“Finish the first aid.” Jimin requests of the medical personnel, before turning and dismissing the crowd. They quickly dissipate under his intimidating stare, but not without a few surprised mutters of isn’t that Park Jimin?. And then he turns to you. He’s only just met you in the last few months and you’d given him so much hope that now dangles precariously on a thread. But he doesn’t want hope or purpose or ambition if that’s not what you want. “Whatever happens out there, she’ll be proud.” He reassures you, and then you’re smiling with relief through your tears. You reach out and wrap your fingers around one of his hands.

“Thank you.” You say, and somehow the weight of your gratitude now means more to him than any Olympics medals you may win- heck, more than the medals he’s won. He finds himself smiling despite the dread that sits deep in his stomach.

“No wobbling out there is allowed.” Is all he tells you.

++

Amidst the silvery glow of the white ice, you stand as a lone figure. Jimin remembers when he first saw you skate, all those months ago. This reminds him of that time, although this time your head is bandaged, and your hands shake as the opening piano chords ring sombrely through the arena. There was a lot of murmuring when you first stepped onto the ice but it has all gone quiet as you wait patiently in the centre, raising your arms delicately above your head. Then the piano erupts fiercely, notes scattering and spilling across the ice in the same moment that you take off. There is power as you launch yourself across the ice.

The strings pad the rich sound and climb in intensity as your first jump approaches. Jimin holds his breath as he sees you brace one leg before you push outwards. You spin through the air and he couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to. But you land at the wrong angle and your leg skids out underneath you. You’ve missed your first jump.

You aren’t deterred though. Quickly you scramble back onto your feet and begin to skate across the ice as the piano melody grows more and more complex and urgent. This next jump is your hardest. But again, you miss- you’re dizzy and you miscalculate the angle you must land in. Still, without hesitation, you clamber back onto your feet even though Jimin can see the way frustrated tears are starting to pool in the corner of your eyes.

What comes next is a spin, as you extend your leg outwards, your speed varying and changing as you adjust your position- you hold your leg out in the pose he had been constantly trying to get you to replicate and you execute it perfectly. You raise your leg above your head as your spin becomes more rapid. The music becomes more delicate and thoughtful and so does your skating. You glide across the ice and yet there is a carefulness that isn’t normally there- he can see the way you must concentrate, the way you desperately fight off the waves of dizziness that you are experiencing.

The pitch climbs into something brighter and hopeful and you once more attempt a desperate jump. You land badly again and actually end up on all fours. For a second, he thinks you may not be able to get up and the music threatens to leave you behind. The whole crowd holds its breath collectively. Suddenly your eyes meet his. It’s quick- you just so happen to be facing towards the wall he’s standing behind. But your expression changes, and so does the music, just in time for you to send yourself soaring with your arms outstretched behind you like the wings of a swan.

Suddenly, Jimin remembers why your skating has him to encaptivated. With the brighter music, you suddenly erupt with a brightness and grace that is entirely unique to you- you dance and skip over the ice rapidly. It’s because no one else can skate like this. No one can translate beauty into movement on the ice like you can. You have another leap coming up and this time when you launch yourself up, it’s with a determination and confidence that you didn’t have before. You land perfectly and Jimin’s heart skips a beat. You’re instantly flying again, soaring towards your grand finale. The music slows to another climax, slow and grave but with the brightness from before carried in the dancing piano melody and your feet bounce with the notes- a triple toe loop, a double axel. Gradually your confidence grows, and the music builds again for one last final climax as you enter your last spin.

The music fades and you are left, in the centre of the rink, gasping for breath. There are tears pouring down Jimin’s face. Somehow, despite all the flaws and errors, it is the most beautiful and moving performance he has seen in his entire life.

It’s in the moment that Jimin realises something. He doesn’t just want to take you to the Olympics. He wants to see you all the way through. Every loss, every triumph, every high-point and low-point… He wants to be there beside you for it all. He’d been in darkness for so long and he’s suddenly found his light. It’s you.

You meet his gaze as the crowd roars with applause and people pelt bouquets onto the ice. And your eyes are red rimmed and teary, but you smile, and it is the most heart-stoppingly beautiful smile he has ever seen in his life. It’s only been a few short months, and yet…

And yet he loves you.

Your coach would have been so proud.

++

You don’t end up taking home the gold medal. Despite your admirable determination to skate in your injured state, there were too many technical slipups for the judges to overlook. Still, with your awesome score carrying over from the short program, and your impressive recovery in the second half of your free program, you land an impressive second place.

Jimin likes the colour on you better anyway- as you walk along side him, the silver medal around your neck bounces against your chest and catches the light and it matches perfectly with the delicate silver chain and silly cat pendant that dangles at your collarbone. But none of it shines brighter than your smile.

“You did really well.” He reassures you, as he follows you out of the rink, towards your car.

“I know.” You say smugly. Your tone is at odds with the banadages around your head and on your face and the medal that glints silver instead of gold.

“She would have been proud.” He informs you, and your answering smile is even more smug.

“I know.” You answer cheerfully, and it brings a smile to his face.

“I’m proud.” He tells you, and you shrug nonchalantly as the two of you arrive just outside his car.

“I know.” Still, you are smug and Jimin is gripped with the sudden and cheeky urge to see what you don’t know.

“I love you.” He tries, one final time, and the smile slides off your face and is replaced with something shocked. Jimin grins as he gets into the car, and it takes you a moment to recover from your shock and slide into the passenger seat.

“I… didn’t know that.” You finally say, and Jimin laughs. He shrugs. You open your mouth and close it a few times before you attempt at last to respond sincerely. “I… I like…. no, I love y-“

“Save it for the Olympics.” He cuts you off, and your eyes go wide in a comical way that makes him laugh. “You can say it when you get the gold medal.”

Your eyes harden with the challenge and you petulantly fold your arms across your chest in answer.

“Just wait and see, then.” Is your answer, your pride provoked, and honestly Jimin wouldn’t have it any other way. Perhaps he should feel uneasy, or desperately need to hear that you reciprocate his feelings. It’s a risky gamble, to not just wait for your response for something that might not even happen, but to delay it. But see, that’s the thing. He knows it’s going to happen. He has all the time in the world, now, and he can absolutely afford to wait for the Olympics.

Because you’re going to take home his third gold medal for him.

[ernmark]

heyo!!! m sorry to bother, and I understand if it would be too much work, but would u mind recapping what happened between Juno and Peter? I have pretty bad memory problems and no time to listen to it all again like i wanna, so i’m just sad for boys but also confused lmao

It’s not a bother at all!

(Actually, it’s a whole lot easier for me to write a post like this than to do original writing, so I’m especially happy to do it).

If you have any questions or need any clarification, just let me know and I’d be happy to elaborate!

So a super quick review of Juno and Peter’s history together:

Juno Steel and the Murderous Mask:

Peter was hired by a deranged Xenoanthropologist-turned-Martian-Furry named Miasma to steal an Ancient Martian death mask from a local mob/reality TV family, the Kanagawas. When his first attempt was thwarted by a murder, he returned to the scene of the crime disguised as Agent Rex Glass of Dark Matters (the Solar System’s super shady FBI organization), but the Kanagawas would only let him near the crime scene if he was accompanied by Juno. 

Lots and lots of flirtation was had. They were trapped in a closet together, Peter punched Juno down a hallway at Juno’s request, they fought off a bunch of genetically engineered monsters together, Juno took a pretty nasty hit for Peter, and Peter tenderly stitched him up while making a teasing remark about “playing doctor”. During all of this, Juno quietly deduced the truth about the real murderer, and about Peter’s role as the original thief of the mask. In the big parlor scene at the end, they worked together to subdue the murderer. 

Peter then persuaded Juno to take him back to his apartment, probably fully intending to bed him and then sneak out with the mask during the night. He pulled Juno into a kiss, sneaking the keys to Juno’s safe (where the mask was kept) out of his coat while Juno was distracted. Unfortunately for him, Juno wasn’t distracted. He’d figured out Peter’s game a while ago, and used Peter’s distraction to get him into handcuffs and call the cops.

Peter wasn’t fazed by any of this (more turned on, really), and so he offered to run away with Juno, so the two of them could go adventuring together. Juno refused and let the cops take him away. When he was gone, he found a note left behind, in which Peter assured him that he really did want them to run away together, and signed it “your better half, Peter Nureyev”. He then made his escape.

Juno Steel and the Midnight Fox:

This is the latest of several episodes in which Peter has been stealing artifacts for Miasma and Juno has been hunting the two of them down, over the course of which Juno swallowed a Martian pill that gave him very costly mind-reading powers. 

After all his leads dried up, Juno went to a local art smuggler, Valles Vicky, and did a case for her in exchange for help from one of her contacts. At the end of the case she called the contact, and it turned out to be Peter. Peter made his entrance by breaking into Juno’s apartment and waiting for him to turn on the light before he announced himself, because he’s dramatic like that, and then dragged Juno off on another adventure.

His first words to Juno since Murderous Mask: “Hello, Juno. It’s been a while.”

Juno Steel and the Train from Nowhere:

They drove directly from Juno’s apartment to the Oasis Casino in the middle of the desert, where Peter had an appointment to play a high-stakes game of Ragnian Street Poker with retired hack jewel thief Brock Engstrom. In order to get Juno in the room with Engstrom and his bodyguard, Nuryev introduced the two of them as Duke and Dahlia Rose, a husband-and-husband duo of bright-eyed jewel thieves from the Outer Rim. He even bought Juno a lovely suit as part of the disguise, which Juno took particular offense to. 

Peter and Engstrom gambled secrets, with the stakes being that Juno would be killed if Peter lied about any of the secrets he revealed. Juno took offense to that, too, but Peter insisted that he would give up all his own secrets and weaknesses before he let that happen. 

After some further surliness and poor communication skills between the two of them, Juno figured out that Engstrom was cheating, and together they were able to force Engstrom to reveal the secret of the Utgard Express high-speed vault.

Things were going great and they were heading back to their shared hotel room with a questionable number of beds, but Juno had to be Juno and he accused Peter of taking secret orders to murder him. Peter pointed out that the “secret orders” were in fact very bad doodles, and that Juno was being a jackass, and he went to bed.

That night, an assassin tried to murder them, so the two of them had to make a break for it, and they wound up stealing Engstrom’s car, the Ruby 7 (previously owned by Jet Siquiliak of the Pirate Crew). They made it onto the Utgard Express, but were caught by Brock Engstrom and his bodyguard in the process. More adventures were had, more flirting happened, and Engstrom’s bodyguard made Juno especially nervous about his feelings for Peter. So as soon as the two of them were defeated and our heroes stole what they needed to get, Juno lashed out and tried to distance himself again. 

Just as they were making their escape, they found themselves cornered by Miasma, who had hijacked the Ruby 7 for herself. She ordered Juno into the car at gunpoint, and then intended to murder Peter and leave him in the desert to rot. Using his very painful mind-reading powers, Juno realized that she needed him alive, so he threatened to kill himself if she harmed Peter. Miasma agreed to let Peter live, but to bring him with them as leverage over Juno.

Peter Nureyev and the Angel of Brahma:

Miasma took Juno and Peter to an Ancient Martian tomb deep underground, where she’d set up a lab and bunker. There she proceeded to force Juno to probe Peter’s mind for multiple tests of his (very, very painful) mind reading powers. Peter often insisted that Juno take time to rest, but Miasma tortured Peter during these lulls in order to motivate Juno to continue. Typically Juno worked himself until he lost consciousness, and then they’d be dragged back to their cell.

This continued for somewhere between days and weeks. 

When Miasma got dissatisfied with Juno’s progress, she forced him to go into Peter’s memories, where he witnessed Peter murdering Mag. This seriously freaked him out, but Miasma insisted that he continue or else she would start cutting off bits of Peter for motivation. Juno relented, and kept watching until he passed out.

When Juno woke up, he was messed up by what he’d seen, but wasn’t ready to talk about it. Peter asked him why he’d never bothered to look into his backstory before, and Juno admitted that he was afraid of what he’d find. Peter insisted that he look into Peter’s memories now and see it for himself, and he could make his decisions about Peter then– whether Peter was worth his time, or whether they would part forever after all this was over. Juno nervously agreed, and he looked back into Peter’s mind on his own terms (while holding hands with Peter. I feel this is important.)

He witnessed the events on Brahma, where teenage Peter and his adopted father Mag attempted to stop the tyrannical leaders on New Kinshasa from murdering petty criminals with their flying laser city of death. They infiltrated New Kinshasa as Mag and Peter Ransom and made their way to the reactor core of the city, and got as far as stealing it… only in the process, Peter learned that disabling the city’s lasers would also wind up killing everyone in the city, and mass murder was really not something he was okay with. During the argument, Mag revealed that he’d been lying about all the things he’d said to motivate Peter– he’d say whatever was necessary to win Peter over to his cause. Peter was horrified and demanded Mag give back the reactor core. When Mag refused, Peter murdered him and replaced the reactor core, saving the people of New Kinshasa. He was caught in the act and identified as Peter Nureyev, and he used his capture to essentially hold the entire city hostage, threatening to bring it down if they continued their reign of terror. He then made his escape, but his true name was forever linked to the ransom of New Kinshasa.

During all of this, Juno went too deep and was having some major health complications, and Peter panicked and called the guards for help. After they assured him that Juno was okay, he knocked them out (killed them?) and attempted to drag Juno out, but Juno was too heavy to carry and in too much pain to leave under his own power. Peter made his own escape, swearing to return for Juno.

Juno Steel and the Final Resting Place

Miasma got what she needed from Juno, and she decided to finally execute him. At the last second, Peter (disguised as one of Miasma’s minions), shot her and the other minion and rescued Juno in a very heroic fashion. 

Together they ventured deeper into the tomb in order to find one of Miasma’s artifacts, the bomb that wiped out the Ancient Martians, so that they could destroy it. Once they got inside, though, they found Miasma there, mysteriously still alive. Turns out she’d spliced herself with Ancient Martian DNA, and was now effectively immortal and a whole lot more eldritch. 

They fought her, all the while figuring out her plan: she was going to hide in the bunker alone and use the bomb to wipe out all other life on Mars, because she’s charming like that. 

The bomb’s countdown was triggered, and Juno dove into Miasma’s memories in order to find out how to deactivate it. He pushed himself too hard, though, and his mind-reading powers destroyed his right eye in the process. He did, however, come up with a plan. He pushed Peter out the airlock and locked himself and Miasma inside with the bomb, keeping her away from it so she couldn’t escape or get rid of the bomb. While Peter desperately begged Juno to open the door, Juno admitted that Peter was the best thing that ever happened to him, and that his one regret was not taking Peter up on his offer to run away together. 

The bomb went off, and Miasma was killed. Juno, however, wasn’t: the bomb was only meant to kill Ancient Martians, as a form of mass suicide for their hive mind species, and had no effect on humans. Juno, who was more than suicidal at this point and wanted nothing more than to go out with a big heroic blaze of glory, was in shock that his last hurrah was taken from him. And also in shock about literally everything else that had happened to him in the past week.

Peter kissed him, took him back to a clinic (unfortunately, they couldn’t save Juno’s eye), and then back to a hotel in Hyperion City. He acknowledged that Juno had said what he had in the heat of the moment, and he didn’t have to go with Peter if he didn’t want to. Juno assured him that he did want to (oddly specific wording on his part). Overjoyed, Peter took Juno to bed, and a sexy time was had by all.

Afterward, Juno stayed up to watch Peter sleep, then rolled out of bed, put his clothes on, and walked back into his office. On his way out, he heard Peter murmur his name in his sleep, content that he and Juno would embark on their grand adventure in the morning. 

[kasdeyathebitterwoman]

A Ninja Warrior Love Story - Part 15

HELLO! It’s been a hot minute since I posted to for the Ninja Warrior fandom. I do apologize for the delay. I had quite a bit of this part written, but I definitely got distracted and felt a little distant from it. But I’m back! I’ve got a new chapter for you all! We’re getting further along in the story and I hope you like it! 

CW: abuse, family trouble talk

Word Count: 3,690

taglist

@maeleeme @henrycavillluv32 @andyrazzledazzle @blossom-a @fanfictionaddiction99 @jhenno2002

A week after getting out of the hospital, Henry surprised Lily with a single heart pendant necklace and a request to officially be his girlfriend. He was old-fashioned like that and it made Lily appreciate him further. Through tears and laughter, Lily accepted. About a month after that, the two of them drove up to Oklahoma to begin pre-shooting for the movie. Lily didn’t actually do much but spent as much time as she could with the lead stunt coordinator. She watched from the side as Henry began working on shots. He and Tom would perform a scene multiple times, often from different angles, but mostly just shooting the scene until Tom felt they had it right. She was fascinated but the process and loved talking with Henry about it all. She also knew when to back off after a long day.

On her days off, which were often, she walked around the cities they were filming in. Pretty often Henry’s local assistant, Sarah, and Kal would come with her. They walked around the Oklahoma City playing tourist for the most part. Lily liked Sarah. She was from Arizona but moved out to Texas with her family when she was twelve. Years later, she started working as a virtual assistant for several people before landing roles as an assistant for celebrities in the area. The two chatted about different things, what they studied at school, how they met Henry, etc. While out walking one day without Kal, Lily and Sarah found an old bookstore. Lily perused the shelves and found herself in awe of a vintage copy of The Velveteen Rabbit. She explained it was one of her favorite that Eleanor had given her years ago, but was lost after college. Lily didn’t have the heart to explain what exactly happened. It was too expensive to justify purchasing it, but just knowing she could find a copy again made her happy.

Both Henry and Sarah learned what a voracious reader Lily was when she wasn't working or training. During their first of three weeks in Oklahoma, Lily devoured twelve books during her downtime. By the fourth week, it was less because she found a ninja warrior gym that Donovan had suggested for her. She was able to get workouts in when she wasn’t on set working or studying.

When their first month of filming was up, Lily and Henry had about two days off before they were expected on set again. Henry was staying in a trailer on set while Lily commuted from a hotel nearby. On their first day off, Henry arrived at her hotel knocking on the door waking her up. Her sleep schedule was off completely with the random call times for shooting combined with the pretty consistent days off. She shuffled over to the door after Henry had knocked for the second time and opened it, squinting at him from around the door. Henry smiled wide and chuckled. He held a cup of coffee and the leash for Kal, who was sitting dutifully at his feet.

“Did I wake you sleeping beauty?” he asked, laughter tickling his voice. Lily grunted in response and stepped aside to let him in. He balanced a cup of coffee and Kal’s leash in his hands as he walked in. Kal trotted in and soon as Henry let go of his leash, immediately found solace next to the couch. He looked up at Lily as did Henry. She yawned wide and loud, stretching her arms above her head. Henry laughed as he closed the gap between them. Lily graciously took her cup of coffee and look-up at Henry.

“What are we going to do today, Brain?” she asked her voice heavy with sleep. Henry looked at her confused. “Sorry, old cartoon reference,” she replied and Henry chuckled. He reached out and pulled her hips closer to his.

“Well, funny enough, it’s National Comic Book Day,” he started. “I heard there was a comic book store in the city. I was thinking we could go there for a bit and then maybe find a walking trail for Kal to run around,” he looked at her expectantly.

“Sure, we can do that,” she said. “Plus, I think there’s a bookstore that Sarah and I went to not too far from the comic book store,” she said absentmindedly, missing the twinkle that flickered in Henry’s eyes.

“Oh yeah,” he said, smiling wide. “I remember you telling me about that store.” Lily nodded, then sighed.

“But if we go out, there’s going to be a crap ton of paparazzi,” she said and Henry sighed as well. Since arriving in Oklahoma, the paparazzi had been relentless. They even snapped several pictures of Lily and Sarah when they were walking Kal because they recognized the dog himself.

“True, but I don’t want you to think I’m hiding you away from the world,” he said, a slight plea in his voice. Lily shook her head no.

“Oh no, you’re not hiding me,” she replied. “I’m hiding myself,” Henry laughed loudly at that. So loud that Kal jumped in his spot. He looked down at Lily.

“Okay, how about a compromise?” he asked and Lily looked at him skeptically. “What if we go out this morning and then spend the rest of the day and tomorrow indoors?” he raised his right eyebrow at her, a gesture that made Lily weak in the knees. She thought about it some then replied.

“Deal, but snuggles come first,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and looking at Henry over the rim. He smirked and laughed.

“Deal,” he replied. Lily nodded her head once then pulled away. Henry started to follow her until he realized she was gesturing to Kal to join her in the bedroom. “Wait, what?” Henry stopped in place and watched her confused. Kal padded into the bedroom and in the doorway, Lily turned around to look at Henry.

“Oh, you thought I meant snuggles with you?” she asked playfully, a smile she couldn’t resist crossing her face. Henry’s confused expression quickly turned to amusement as he understood what she meant.

“Oh you little,” he muttered, immediately chasing her into the bedroom. Lily squealed as she turned into the bedroom. She would have been able to evade Henry’s hands, but Kal was right behind her, desperate to see what was taking her so long. She almost tripped over his large frame and then suddenly Henry’s hands were on her, tickling her until she was short of breath. Henry held her tightly as he pulled her toward him. She lifted her coffee cup up and over his shoulder right as Henry leaned down to kiss her. It was rough and a little sloppy, but Lily didn’t mind because it was also real and passionate. Kissing him was her second favorite thing to do with him. He held her close and finally pulled back to look at her. She smiled up at him and felt her love for him stir in her chest.

—

As predicted, the paparazzi were out snapping photos, but they weren’t as bad as Lily had expected. Walking up to the comic book store in town, they were stopped once by a local. A father and a son, who was wearing a Superman shirt, asked for a photograph and Henry obliged. Lily offered to take their picture since there was no one else with them. She smiled at Henry as they continued to the store. He was so kind and generous to those around him. He caught her smiling and gave her a confused look.

“What?” he asked. Lily smirked.

“You’re adorable,” she said, low and only to him. Henry just beamed at her. They continued on to the comic book store. Henry went directly for the Superman comics and Lily wandered over to the graphic novel section and perused in their respective sections for a while. Lily then wandered around the store and found a section with old posters. She started flipping through them and got excited to see renderings and images from the Adam West Batman television show. There were great shots of Cesar Romero as The Joker as well as great images of Adam West and Burt Ward as their respective characters. Lily gasped when she found a beautiful, technicolor shot of Eartha Kitt as Catwoman. She pulled the poster up to inspect it further when she felt someone behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Henry smiling at her.

“What did you find?” he asked. Lily pulled the poster around to show him.

“Look,” she said excitedly. “Eartha Kitt as Catwoman. Did you know her first appearance as one of her most iconic characters was actually uncredited?” there was a passion in her voice that surprised Henry.

“No, I didn’t know that,” he replied, examining the poster. Lily bit her lip in excitement.

“And there’s more,” she turned back to the posters. She could feel Henry move closer to her. “There’s this one with Cesar Romero as The Joker. He never shaved his mustache so they just painted over it!” She laughed and Henry laughed with her excitement. “Oh, I didn’t see this one!” she pulled out a poster of Frank Gorshin. “Oh my gosh, the original Riddler!” she gasped as she pulled it up to show Henry.

“Wow, that’s so awesome,” Henry agreed. Lily did a little dance in giddy excitement and Henry chuckled at her. “I didn’t know you liked this stuff so much,” Henry said. Lily smiled up at him.

“Oh man,” she started. “Me, Mar, and her little brothers used to get up on Saturday mornings to watch this show. The Adam West Batman was my first superhero experience,” she smiled up at Henry who was watching her with intrigue and intensity. She blushed to realize how much she went on about Batman. “Um, what did you find?” she asked, glancing down at the stack of things in his hands. Henry jumped to it.

“I found these great versions of a few Superman comic books and these amazing art renderings,” he showed her the artwork. Lily looked through the artwork and smiled. They really were very well done.

“These are incredible,” she said, smiling up at him. He looked back at her warmly. They headed to the front to check out. Henry bought his artwork and comic books while Lily bought the posters of Eartha Kitt and Frank Gorshin. Then they headed over to the bookstore a few shops down. Lily was hoping to show Henry the copy of The Velveteen Rabbit she had found but when they got there, it was gone. Disappointed, she turned to Henry who saw her despair.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her closer to him. “Maybe we can find you another copy.” Lily bobbed her head as she accepted his embrace. They walked back to Lily’s hotel hand in hand. Lily forgot completely about any photographers that might have been around.

Henry dropped her off at the hotel with a quick kiss then left to collect Kal and a vehicle so they could head to a park. Lily dropped her things off in the front room and sat on the couch. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel bad about this loss. It hurt not getting to see or hold the book again, but she decided to believe it went to a good home. A few moments later, she got a text from Henry that he and Kal were downstairs. Lily changed her shoes to her trainers and jogged downstairs. Climbing into the SUV, she was met with a smiling Henry and Kal. He told her he found a dog-friendly walking trail nearby, but they would have to drive to it. The drive was relatively silent with an occasional grunt or huff from Kal in the backseat. Henry did reach out to grab Lily’s hand and run his thumb over her knuckles.

At the park, they found a spot to park the car then headed out with Kal. They continued to be quiet in each others presence. After a while, Henry finally spoke.

“So tell me about watching Batman with Mar,” he prompted. Lily smiled. She told him about the year she had to stay with Mar and her family. And how on Saturdays, all the kids would get up to watch Saturday morning cartoons. After cartoons, old television shows would play and one of them was the 1960’s Batman show. Lily was enamored right away and it never left her. Mar’s brothers would drive her to the comic book store to pick up comics and graphic novels as well. “So let me ask you,” Henry started. “Would you be interested in reading Superman comics?” he smiled at her coyly. Lily threw her head back and laughed.

“I have read several Superman comics, but I’d be willing to read a few more,” she looked up at him and smirked. Henry smiled back.

“Good, because this,” he gestured between the two of them. “Wouldn’t work out otherwise,” he laughed at Lily’s expression.

“Oh, so that’s the dealbreaker?” she asked, her eyebrows raising. Henry just giggled. They continued to laugh as they walked. Kal trotted ahead of them taking in the area. He sounded like a pig sniffing around the ground. Henry reached for Lily’s hand and took it in his. They walked like this for a while, silently stealing glances at one another. Well over an hour later, they hot, sweaty, thirsty, and ready to sit down for a while. Lily and Kal at least seemed ready, Henry seemed okay. They trekked back to the car and headed back to the hotel. Henry grabbed Kal and the travel items he had for Kal and himself in the car. In her room, Henry got Kal set up for the evening then turned to Lily.

“So now what?” he asked, turning to Lily. He closed the small distance between them so Lily was forced to look up at him. She turned her face up to his and smiled sweetly.

“Well, to be honest, I’m thinking about a shower,” she replied and Henry smirked.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea,” he said to her, his voice low and husky. Lily ran her hands over his broad shoulders and down his arms. The tips of her fingers hovering along the top of his jeans. Henry closed his eyes and sighed, his head tilting back ever so slightly. Taking his hand, Lily pulled him into the bathroom. He watched with hawk eyes as she pulled the shower door open and started the water. Then, Lily turned around to him. He stepped forward and closed the gap between them. Lily's hands immediately pulled on the hem of Henry’s shirt. Between her efforts and Henry’s, they pulled his shirt up and off of his large frame. Then with nimble fingers, Lily began unbuttoning his pants. Her fingers quickly undid the button and began tugging on the zipper. Henry’s hands were on hers immediately, helping the process along.

Once he was down to his briefs, Henry wasted no time getting Lily out of her clothes. Just as she had, he started with her shirt. His hands pushed her shirt up and over her head then his warm hands rested gently on her waist. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and for a moment, she thought she saw him holding his breath. Then, slowly, he reached up and unhooked her bra. Gently, he pulled the straps down off her shoulders and revealed her breasts. He placed his hands so they cupped her sides and one thumb could gently trace her nipple. Lily shuddered with pleasure, the feeling of his hands on her body was one of the few things she craved most in the world.

“You said it to me once,” Henry said suddenly, his voice low. “And I liked it so much, so I’m saying it back to you. I love the way that you make me feel,” he said this, then moved is hands down to Lily’s jeans which he began to undo.

“And how do I make you feel?” Lily asked, stepping out of her jeans. She ran her fingertips down his abdomen and saw him relax into your hands.

“You make me feel,” he started. “Good - really, really good,” he looked down at her, his blue eyes shining bright. “I feel like a man that can do anything when you smile at me,” he watched her with a sweet intensity. Lily felt herself blushing as she smiled and bit her bottom lip. Unsure of what to say, she stood up on her tiptoes and pulled Henry in for a kiss. It was passionate and real, the kind of kiss between two people that love each other and love that they are together. Then she pulled his hand and they moved toward the shower. They removed their underwear and stepped in. It was a tight fit thanks to Henry’s size, but that just meant more of an opportunity to touch every bit of real estate that was Henry Cavill.

The two giggled through their shower. Henry enjoyed taking care of Lily and making her laugh. He covered her head to toe in suds and laughed hysterically when he was able to make her hair into a faux-hawk. When they were done, Lily got dressed in the plush robe provided by the hotel while Henry donned his sweat pants and nothing else. Lily’s hotel wasn’t nice enough to have room service, but she was able to find a place nearby that would deliver burgers for them. Henry was on a strict diet now that filming was in the swing of things, however, he hadn’t had a cheat meal that week, so the burger would be fine. While they waited, they sat on the couch in her room. Henry was at one end with Lily on the other side, her legs outstretched over his lap. He took her feet and began giving her a foot massage.

“Tell me more about staying with Mar,” he started quietly. “It sounds like it was pretty good,” Lily had been watching his hands work. For a moment she paused before sighing and responding.

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad at all,” she started. She looked up at Henry’s face. Though he was working out the knots in her feet, he was watching her intently. “The circumstances just sucked.” she shrugged her shoulders. Henry watched her, his blue eyes sparkling. “When I was 16 or 17, my dad relapsed. He started getting drunk as soon as he’d wake up. Since I was the only other one in the house, I took the brunt of his anger and pain. One night when he was really worked up, he kicked me out. He literally threw me out on the porch and locked the door behind me.” Lily paused, feeling Henry’s hands stop. She wasn’t looking at him, but off into the distance. Her head snapped back and she looked him in the eye. “I cried for three days straight. I didn’t go to school, I didn't get out of the little cot Mar’s parents set up for me in her room. I laid there for three days and cried. Then I got up, started running again, started working with Ray and I haven’t really stopped,” her voice cracked a little as she spoke, realizing just how much pain she’d been holding in all these years. Henry’s lips were open slightly, his brow slightly furrowed as he watched her.

“Lily, I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. Lily shrugged.

“It’s part of the past and to be honest, I’m really tired of letting my past hurt me,” she said as she looked at Henry’s hands. Then she shifted her eyes up and looked into his soft blue eyes. Then Lily stretched out her hands and gestured to Henry to come towards her. They shifted so that Henry was laying half on her, half on the couch. His head rested on her chest while her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She began running her fingers through Henry’s hair and felt him pull her closer to him. She smiled as she pressed her lips into his hairline. “Tell me about boarding school,” Lily murmured to Henry. He chuckled into her chest. He began to tell her how excited he was to be sent away. How it was a much-needed change of pace, albeit a tough one since most of the boys were rather mean to him.

“They called me Fat Cavill,” he explained, laughing with Lily. “Which wasn’t entirely wrong. I was fat and my name was Cavill,” he said. Lily giggled. Their food had come and they were sitting on the couch, eating, avoiding Kal’s gaze as he watched them from a distance envious. When they were done eating and had cleaned everything up, they moved their conversation to the bedroom. Again, Henry lay so his head was on Lily’s chest and her hands were running through his hair. They continued to talk and share more and more about their past. It was hard for Lily to be so open, but Henry said something that filled a crack in her heart.

“Honestly, you remind me quite a bit of my mum,” he said. “Like her, you are so smart and fun and interesting. And you’re both strong, but it’s not an obvious strength. It’s a quiet, dignified strength that can’t really be measured,” he said this so surely, with so much confidence it left Lily in shock.

“No one’s ever said that about me before,” Lily said, quietly, still in shock. Henry tilted his head so he was looking up at her.

“No one has ever called you strong before?” he asked almost incredulously. Lily shook her head.

“No, I mean,” she started. “No one has ever referred to me as dignified,” she emphasized the last word. “I’m usually just the poor girl who had to be strong,” Henry readjusted so he was leaning on his arm, looking at her intently. Then he pulled her in for a kiss that was sweet and passionate. 

“You are so much more than that to me,” he whispered quietly. Lily smiled and kissed him back, feeling her love for him grow deeper. 

[ladykeane]

Bertie and Reg dress up for Halloween at Dahlia's!! and the party!!!

To the lovely Nonny who sent this, I profusely apologise if you’re not the massive weeb/animation geek that I am. But this idea stuck, and I couldn’t help myself!

Fair warning, it’s quite silly, most definitely cracky, and completely self indulgent…

There was a lesson given to me by my drama teacher at school, Mrs Irving, that has always stayed with me. The gist of her teaching was that a good actor must have a sort of dual consciousness. I suppose what she meant was that a chap should have the power to transform his mindset into that of the character he plays - and then just as easily slip back into his usual mental space, once the curtain falls. There must co-exist a Bertie-the-Wooster and Bertie-the-Prince-Hal within a single animal. Well, I suppose I have put this lesson to good use in my adult life, as I can attest that Bertie-the-Drone, Bertie-the-obedient-nephew and Bertie-the-seducer-of-certain-Jeeveses manage to be conjured at the drop of a whatsit.

A particularly surprising example of this dual consciousness wheeze occurred just recently, on the night of Aunt Dahlia’s annual Halloween bash. I suppose the lifted veil to the spirit world aided this shift of the Wooster disposish. (Well, the costume probably helped too, not to mention my dear auntie’s insistence that her party guests never drop out of character for the whole of the evening. That can make certain things a tad awkward, such as bathroom ablutions. One must ask: does Superman use the lavatory at all?)

I was given the scoop on the event by my ancestor over the phone, as I sat digesting a fourth-or-fifth slice of Reg’s birthday cake. (This year he had requested a Black Forest, and I have to say that I outdid myself. The leftover kirsch was also a boon.)

‘Super-groups?’ I asked. ‘You mean like the Travelling Wilburys?’‘No, young clot, I mean super-groups like the Avengers, Justice League, and their lycra-clad ilk. The group with the best costumes and most convincing delivery will receive a prize from your Uncle Tom and myself.’‘Ooh! And what is that?’‘For one, a cooking lesson with Anatole. Apparently he owed Reg a favour, and your man generously donated said favour to me.’I glanced an appreciative glance at my beloved, who sat perusing the W.H. Auden anthology I had given him.‘Secondly, a near-pristine Nintendo Gamecube, complete with controllers and a collection of best-selling game cartridges.’‘You mean the one you confiscated from Angela and myself? I still think that was an unfair punishment.’‘I say, it was entirely fair! Do you forget that I got stuck with the bill to clean your old headmaster’s office!? I am told that the stench of baked beans can still be detected throughout the school halls, to this very day! Anyway, I would advise you to get cracking. The competition will be stiff, I hear Angela’s little friends have been working on their costumes since August. Perhaps you and Reg could go as Batman and Robin!’‘Perhaps, auntie.’‘Well, pip-pip then. I’ve got many a fake tombstone and skeleton to haul down from the attic.’

As I hung up, Reg raised his head from his book. ‘I believe Mrs Travers has briefed you on this year’s Halloween festivities?’‘Indeed. She’s never offered a prize for the guests before. They’re real plums, at that. I reckon it would be well worth the splurge to get some first-rate togs.’‘May I ask what this year’s theme is?’‘Super-groups. By which I mean, groups of superheroes. She suggested we go as Batman and Robin! We’re already quite the dynamic duo, anyway. What d’you think?’

As I uttered these words, the Jeevesian brow began sinking south, until the look on his face chilled the lukewarm cup of tea sitting at my elbow.‘I should say not, Bertram.’‘Oh. Well… what about Danger Mouse and Penfold? You could be DM, of course.’‘I regret that I shall be unable to attend this year’s festivities. I have much to do to complete the Earl of Rowcester’s living will.’

Of all the paper-thin excuses! ‘Oh, don’t give me that Reg! What is it? You don’t care to be in the same room as all that brightly-coloured spandex? You fared just fine at last year’s “Stranger Things” soiree, and we were surrounded by a multitude of eighties fashion, at that!’(He made quite the dashing Steve Harrington, actually. Aunt Dahlia cast this Bertram as Dustin, so while I was able to tag after him all night there was an unfortunate dearth of snogging.)‘I am afraid I must insist. I do not care to be dressed in the bright, garish apparel that is requisite of superheroes.’

Given that it was the lowly rotter’s birthday, I held on to the flames that should have escaped from my nostrils. ‘Oh, very well, Reg. Have it your way.’ To ensure that none of my internal invective against him slipped past the Wooster lips, I left the flat for a sullen trudge about Mayfair.

***

That very evening, Bingo Little summoned self and several other Drones to dinner. He was in town with his husband Randy, to look for a property where they could spend their Winters. While the reports given indicated that all was spiffy within their NYC townhouse, Randy wanted to ensure that his paramour did not lose touch with his British roots. And I think I remembered him saying that his next novel was to be set in South Kensington, inspired by the likes of Richard Curtis and Hugh Grant. All rather convenient, no?

‘That Gamecube and cooking lesson with Anatole is as good as ours, lads. I have the perfect idea for our super-group.’ Here Bingo took a long sip of tea, leaving us in a state of eye-boggling suspense.‘Christ and his disciples?’ suggested Stinker.‘The Bloomsbury Group?’ queried Boko.‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?’ asked Gussie.

‘Better,’ Bingo finally replied, a rivulet of tea dribbling down his chin. ‘Do you know “Sailor Moon”?’

‘Sparkly schoolgirl with the pigtails? Yes, I recall watching the English language version with Angela sometimes. Quite a cheesy romp, that.’‘Oh, you ought to read the original manga ,’ said Boko. ‘A perfect blend of costumed superhero action and romantic high fantasy!’

For the next half hour, we were subject to Boko and Bingo giving us a full synopsis of the dratted space opera, complete with character studies, mythological references, and feminist overtones. Now, I have known my fellow Drones to sometimes possess hidden depths, but I was unsure whether this encyclopedic grasp of a Japanese super-girl-group was more of a mild pathology instead.

‘So,’ Bingo announced, ‘I believe I’ve figured out the perfect casting for each of us. I shall be Sailor Venus, of course, the soldier of love. Randy does call me his golden love god, after all.’ (Pause here for requisite retching.) ‘Gussie can be Sailor Mercury, given his general… wateriness. Boko’s love of house plants is perfect for Sailor Jupiter. And due to his spiritual calling, Stinker will be Sailor Mars, the shrine-maiden.’

I was trying to picture each of my chums kitted out in a colour coded schoolgirl costume. Perhaps we would score points for comedic effect, if nothing else.‘And what about me?’ I asked.‘Well, you’ll be our Sailor Moon, naturally.’‘Golly! I must say, Bingo, I’m quite chuffed to be given the starring role. I assume that it’s due to my former experience with drag, not to mention my theatrical prowess and general heroic gravitas.’‘Well… I suppose. It’s also because Sailor Moon is supposed to be a ditzy blonde crybaby.’‘Ah.’The judicious nods that the others gave were a tad insulting.

‘Does this mean that I’ll have to wax? ’ asked Gussie.

***

Now, if you’ve ever seen the much-celebrated cartoon, you’ll know that one of the highlights of every episode is the spangly transformation sequences, where each heroine morphs from humdrum schoolgirl into celestial warrioress. Our first go at donning the famous fuku was much less glamorous.

Boko knew a chap who knew a lass who worked at a highly-regarded fancy dress company. Apparently, many a masquerade-goer and cosplayer has raved about their beautifully crafted goods. As we trundled our way out their HQ on the tube, we were all in high hopes of scoring the perfect outfits. As it happens, the fitting session that followed made me appreciate just how inadequate the standard sizing of womens’ apparel really is.

Bingo and I had the best luck, but the costumes closest to fitting us were narrow in the shoulders and wide in the hips. Gussie managed to squeeze into one of the larger sizes, but resembled more of a wrinkly chicken sausage than a cute superheroine. (The skirt was appallingly short on him, and when he bent over to grab his phone from his bag I was quite traumatised.) Stinker, who is built akin to a silverback gorilla, utterly utterly destroyed the costume he attempted to yank on. I offered to foot the bill for that one, as a vicar’s salary can only cover so many breakages per month.

‘It’s no good, boys,’ sighed the seamstress who had patiently assisted us, ‘you’ll need to get these custom-made.’‘And how long will that take?’ asked Bingo.She put on a brave face. ‘I’ll do my best to get them ready for Halloween, but bear in mind I’ve already got a backlog of orders to finish.’‘Chin up!’ I replied. ‘I can probably ask a favour of the drag queen who did my costuming for “Legally Blonde” - Reg cut her a sweet deal with a new agent at the time. I’ll ask if she can source the shoes and wigs and things.’

A level of relief washed on to the girl’s face at this. I’d feel the same, if I were freed from the task of cobbling a pair of Stinker Pinker-sized red pumps.‘Even so, we’ll be cutting it close with this order. I doubt I’ll be done before the morning of the 31st.’‘Send me the bill for your energy drinks,’ I offered.‘It’s a deal.’

***

Time ticked on, and All Hallows Eve drew near. While I did my best not to harbour any full-on wrath against Reg at his blowing-off of the party, I couldn’t help but act a tad pipped towards him. Were lurid leotards and shiny accessories really so horrid?When he snuggled close to me on the sofa, I scooched away. When he dropped a kiss upon my map, my only response was tight-lipped disinterest. The blighter refused to compromise, so wherefore should this Wooster succumb to his entreaties? I took a lot of cold showers that week.

The big day came, and still nary a costume was yet received.‘5pm, she said,’ Boko told me, ‘and we’ll have to go and pick them up ourselves.’‘Hm, that is cutting it close. Well, bear up, old fruits! Leather Smalls will be along this arvo to do our make-up and hair.’‘Leather Smalls?’‘Didn’t I tell you? She’s part of an all-drag M People tribute act.’

If I can impart to you the experience of tubing it across suburban London in a long blonde, pigtailed wig, a full face of makeup, and masculine civvies, accompanied by four other similarly styled blokes, you probably wouldn’t doubt my claim that it was one of the more surreal experiences in my life. Halloween is not quite the big deal here that it is across the pond, so we got quite the share of wolf whistles, disapproving auntly glares, and ‘yaaaas, queen’s from our fellow travellers.

At last, at last, we arrived at Brinkley Court, freshly finished costumes in hand. The coloured lights, costumed crowd, and strains of ‘Monster Mash’ from within indicated a party already in full swing.As we entered the front door, I grabbed for the first bowl of sweets I could find, given my lowered blood sugar.‘That’s it!? Gawd, Bertie, you could have at least made an effort!’

Angela had grabbed one of the sweets from my hand and popped it in her mouth. I wasn’t quite sure who she was supposed to be, but her costume was really quite the thing.She was caked head-to-toe in light purple body paint, with a long wig in a paler shade of the same colour. A brilliant gem was affixed to her chest, and she wielded a long double-headed whip. I did not feel inclined to backtalk her.‘So who’ve you come as?’‘One of the Crystal Gems, obvs. Anyway, you need to go easy on those. Mum says that some neighbourhood bullies have been stealing sweets from the trick-or-treating kids, and she’s promised to recompense them.’‘What!?’My blood was now boiling - what lowly cad felt the need to scam helpless rugrats out of their jelly babies and smarties?

‘Oh, it’s awful,’ said Aunt Dahlia, swiping the remaining sweets from my hand and depositing them back in their bag. ‘I just saw Captain America crying his poor little eyes out, being comforted by Bucky Barnes. A whole evening’s worth of trick-or-treating swag, stolen from them by three nasty teenagers!’‘She means Thos and Edwin,’ Angela translated.‘What teenagers?’ asked Stinker.‘Some of the nastier upperclassmen from Eton, apparently. Captain America tells me that they have a reputation for bullying even the house masters and head teachers. Great brutes.’‘Rum,’ I said. ‘But, Aunt Dahlia-’‘Who?’I took in my auntie’s costume.‘But, Catwoman, hasn’t anyone tried to pull them up for it?’‘They’ve been too wily. I was told that they also egged the Emsworths’ place, running off onto Ham Common before anyone could catch them.’‘Travesty!’ cried Boko. ‘They can’t get away with this!’‘Too right!’ I said.‘Well? You lot are supposed to be the Sailor Senshi, aren’t you? You fight for love and justice, yes?’‘Er…?’‘You must transform, and thwart the damned villains!’

The Drones and I shared a look askance. ‘Um.’‘May I remind you, Sailor Moon, of the video games and French cuisine that are up for grabs for the group who best embodies their chosen superheroes?’‘Right ho. Moon Prism Power Make Up, then!’

***

We stampeded upstairs, bottlenecking on the landing, and Stinker stumbled noisily upon the top step. Into my old bedroom, and our everyday trappings were cast off in favour of our splendid, sparkly sailor ensembles.It was a bit of a muddle - the others needed help donning their padded brassieres, not to mention adjusting their skirts to preserve modesty. But after a few fumbling minutes, we were ready to go, as resplendent a team of magical girls as Brinkley Court had ever seen.

I allowed myself an indulgent linger before the full-length mirror. I really did look cute. The big pink bow was quite flattering to my proportions, and the blue skirt and collar set off my eyes nicely.‘Come on, Sailor Moon! We’ve got a contest to win!’With a flick of my pigtails, I was off.

Bursting out of Brinkley’s front door again, we charged into the gloaming. The place looks directly out over Ham Common, and on the great stretch of lawn, it did not take us long to spot the perps.

A juvenile, quivering Wallace and Gromit were surrounded by three of the largest, most grotesque teenage boys that I’d ever beheld. Though a good decade younger than myself, they looked to be twice my height and about four times my body weight. Most ghastly of all were their choices of costume: the ringleader was dressed as Pennywise the Clown, with his two lieutenants cast as Thanos and a zombie version of Napoleon Dynamite. I admit that the hint of rotten green brain showing through his blonde afro was an impressive use of make-up, but it did turn my stomach a tad.

Just before they could rip the trick-or-treat bags from the youngsters, I put a solid, heeled boot forward.‘Leave those beloved icons of childrens’ entertainment alone!’‘Hurrr,’ slurred Thanos, ‘check out the anime drag queens.’���Wanna come party with us, girls?’ said Pennywise. ‘We got heaps of sweeties for the sweeties!’I puffed out my padded chest. ‘Never! I stand for love and justice! And… by the Code of the Woosters, I shall punish you!’

And so it began. We swooped upon them. Wallace and Gromit scarpered, and we were met with a barrage of large humbugs. When thrown with enough velocity, those things can leave a bruise.

Behind me, Gussie boldly came up bearing a large garden hose. He turned the nozzle on the head, but instead of dousing the monsters, the force of the spray was a bit too much for him, and he clung on for dear life as the hose thrashed about in his arms. He quickly went down in a self-inflicted mud puddle.

Stinker managed to plant a shiner of a right hook on Thanos. The brute staggered away, doubled over in pain. He threw off his plastic infinity gauntlet, upon which Stinker tripped magnificently, going pumps over skirt into the turf as well.

Boko fearlessly leapt upon Napoleon’s back, wrapping his noodly arms about an equally noodly neck. Napoleon bucked about like a bronco with a bad itch. Boko did his best to hang on, but the slippery satin gloves ultimately betrayed him, and the poor soul was flung off into a nearby rose bush.

The three monsters continued running from us. It was just me and Bingo now. We exchanged a silent glance of Sailor Senshi solidarity, as we pursued them towards a clump of oak trees.With a well aimed stomp, Bingo got Pennywise right in the oversized foot, with the heel of his pump. However, before I could back him up, the two lieutenants grabbed my chum and snatched his wig by its red ribbon, hurling it up into the branches of one of the trees.‘NOT MY VENUS WIG!’Abandoning the skirmish, Bingo pathetically began clambering up the branches to try and retrieve the thing. (I mean, it was a nice wig. And if it came back damaged, I would be owing Leather Smalls big time.)

And so, the beasts turned their attention to me. Three cruel grins bore down upon me like vultures on a dying wildebeeste. They looked like they could easily pummel me into a boneless mush, and not even feel it the next day. I’m not too proud to admit that I quivered in my heeled boots.‘What was that about punishing us, sweetie?’‘Let’s hang her from the branches by those stupid pigtails!’‘Yeah! And then we’ll-’

All of a sudden, something sleek and sharp came whistling through the night air. It popped Pennywise’s balloon, and struck Thanos right between the cheeks of his ample bum.‘Ow!’‘What the…’It was a fine, thin blade, attached to a deep red rose.

The four of us whipped our heads towards the source of the floral projectile. Imagine my total astonishment to perceive, perched upon a high stone wall before the radiant moon, none other than Tuxedo Mask. Gosh, he was splendid, with his billowing black cape and aura of general rakishness.‘How dare you blackguards steal from innocent children and assault these brave soldiers. Sailor Moon, I know you can defeat them.’‘But how, dash it!?’

He tossed me a bright pink plastic object. It took me a moment to discern that it was an external hard drive. It bore a little decal of one of those colourful cartoon pony characters.I looked back at the monsters, to find Pennywise agog.‘Wh… WHERE DID YOU GET THAT!?’‘Uhm…’‘Dude… is that what I think it is?’ said Napoleon.‘GIVE IT BACK!’ cried Pennywise.

Tuxedo Mask and I shared a single silent, meaningful glance, and I dropped the thing to the grass, raising my heeled boot above it, primed to smash.‘Well… I might, if you agree to apologise to every last child you terrorised, AND return their sweeties.’‘But we already ate some,’ said Thanos.‘Alright… maybe just give them a few quid, in that case. AND you’ll be cleaning the egg off Mrs Emsworth’s front stoop.’‘Anything, ANYTHING!’ begged Pennywise. ‘Please just give me back my-’‘NIGEL!!!’

A robust, sour-faced Jean Grey was stomping across the grass, her fiery gaze fixed on Pennywise.‘You have a lot of explaining to do, young man!’‘But Mum-’‘I should confiscate your little pony stories this instant!’‘No! Please…’‘Instead, you will do exactly as Sailor Moon says, and apologise to all the people whose Halloween you have ruined! You too, Cyril, Edgar! Don’t think I won’t be telling your mothers what you’ve done!’

The clown was dragged off by his ear to begin his penance, but not before he could snatch up his pink hard drive. Now that the leader had fallen, his two henchmen slunk along in his wake.

The Sailor Senshi had regrouped, and Angela, Thos, and Edwin (sorry, Amethyst, Captain America, and Bucky) had also dashed up to join us.‘You know who that was?’ said Angela, ‘Little Nigel Belfry. I went to St George’s with his big sister Diedre. Rotten little punk. One of the worst trolls in the online “My Little Pony” fandom too.’‘He bullies us all the time,’ said Thos.‘Well, dangle the name “Eulalie” in front of him. That’s his username on all the major MLP forums. Not sure he’d like that info getting out at Eton.’ Here she thumped me on the back. ‘Well done, Sailor Moon, you gave him the punishment that he sorely needed.’‘Oh, but I couldn’t have done it without…’I turned towards the stone wall. Of course, Tuxedo Mask had already biffed off. Probably to go hunt down the Silver Imperium Crystal or something.

***

Now that the drama had wound down, we finally had a chance to mingle. I got to take in the costumes of Angela’s group: Honoria was some sort of giant magenta woman with sunglasses and boxing gloves; Florence looked lovely and delicate in a gossamer tutu, and gleefully swung about a rather frightening spear; while Madeline was surprisingly dressed in drag - some charming little chap by the name of Steven, I think. The craftwork of their outfits was simply matchless, and they were clearly the ones to beat for the contest.

After Time-Warping and Thriller-ing and Caramelldansen-ing the night away, as well as quaffing some questionable looking cocktails with names like Chemical X and Radioactive Sludge, it was time to announce the winners of the costume competition.Uncle Tom (sorry, the 4th Doctor) killed the music, and tapped a fork against his glass of Chemical X to call for silence.Dahlia-or-Catwoman hopped up on the coffee table, to better survey the throng. ‘The door prize goes to Winnie the Pooh, who clearly misunderstood the assignment.’Spode-the-Pooh shuffled up to grab his bag of humbugs, and Madeline-or-Steven applauded wildly.

‘The runners-up are Wario and Waluigi, who regrettably stayed true to their despicable characters all evening!’Claude and Eustace collected their swag of Quality Street and Jack Daniels, fighting over who would get to carry them.

Angela and I exchanged a tense side eye. Could one of us really have been left out?

‘And the first prize… is a joint win, between the Crystal Gems and the Sailor Senshi! Come on down, ladies!’Well, everyone pooh-poohs nepotism until they benefit from it. Angela and I joined hands, and led our respective groups to their shared moment of glory. (And after a little bartering, we agreed to let the girls take the cooking lesson, while we scored the Gamecube. I know that Angela has long been an avid fan of Anatole’s show ‘Cuisine Inferno’.)

***

After a little more merrymaking, the music changed from novelty festive monster songs to the cheesy fodder of slow dancing. As couples began to pair off and pitch woo, a thought occurred to me: where the devil had Tuxedo Mask gone?

At the very least, I wished to thank the fellow. It was anyone’s guess as to how he had picked up on Nigel-or-Pennywise’s little secret, but he had truly been my saviour.

I squeezed through the waves of slow dancers, trying to keep my eyes peeled for a top hat or a black cape. Alas, the only capes I could spy were of bright and garish hues.

I escaped to the quiet of Brinkley’s large, rambling back yard, in the hopes of getting a little air. As I ankled along the gravelled drive in my heeled boots, I couldn’t help but let a little melancholy sink in. Despite my search for Tuxedo Mask, I well knew who I really wanted to spend this night with.I reached the fountain, ornamented by Aunt Dahlia’s favoured statue of Artemis, and plonked my sorry self down upon its edge.‘Sailor Moon… we meet again.’

He emerged from behind the shadow of the trees, and I leapt right up.‘Tuxedo Mask! Ah… I really did want to thank you for your help back there. Awful solid of you, old chap.’

He did not come closer. ‘You are most welcome. I had been charged with organising the family affairs of the Earl of Rowcester. I encountered his youngest son, who proved to possess a most malicious and scheming temperament. I felt the temporary acquisition of the lad’s most prized digital information would prove a useful bargaining chip at some juncture.’‘And right you were, Tuxedo Mask! What a bally stroke of genius you…’

He stepped forward, and removed his eyemask.

‘Bertram, I am sorry that I was so intractable about tonight.’‘Oh… Good Lord… Reg, I hoped so dearly that it was you!’

I flew to his arms. And Angela, the sneaky brat, managed to get a good number of happy snaps of Sailor Bertie and Tuxedo Reg locked in a passionate embrace.

‘Reg?’‘Yes, my moonbeam?’‘Keep the cape.’

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi ! I recently read the fics "Uphill" and "A Hundred Crimson Sols", and I also remember reading "Perfomance in a leading role" a while ago, and I really loved them so I was wondering if you new other AUs where they have another job than in canon ? Especially ones where one of them is famous ? I love your blog btw, and you're so nice with everybody

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could recommend any true AUs? I feel like getting away from the canon setting. Thanks!

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: hi, do you have any coffee shop/different first meeting au fic recs? thank you! (:

Hi Nonnies!!

I hope you don’t mind that I put y'all together, since y’all are looking for pretty much the exact same thing! Funny because these all came in around the same time, LOL. I’ve SO many AU’s, but I’ve those ones sorted too, and Nonny 1, you’ve got a good suggestion here for today’s AU list, so we’re gonna go with Other Professions, which works great for Nonny 2′s request as well!! 

And Nonny 1, thank you very much for your kind words! I’m not THAT nice, but I try, LOL

Nonny 3, I’ve added in the “see also” some fics you may also enjoy! Believe it or not, I’ve never read a coffee shop AU fic. I think it’s because they’re mostly Unilock and I don’t really care for unilock :P (I like my John and Sherlock older because I can then relate to them :P)

I’ve also added some fics on my MFL list since I like making long lists LOL LOL.

ALTERNATE PROFESSIONS

See also (for First Meeting Nonny):

Fairy Tales and Fantasy

TV, Movies, and Books AU (Fantasy Pt. 2)

Magical Realism Where John is the Powerful One

Lumberjack John / Botanist Sherlock

WWII AU’s

Faes / Faeries

Alternate First Meetings (Canon-Feeling)

First Meeting Via Internet / Phone / Letters

Angel John 

Ghosts / Figments

School Fics

Soul Mates and Soul Bonds

Omegaverse

where the good things grow by anchors (M, 7,066 w. || Tea Shop AU || Alternate First Meeting, Magical Realism, Gardens, Tea, Friends to Lovers) – “I have a magic garden.” As come-ons go, John’s heard worse.

He’s Not Paid Enough to Deal with This Shit by janonny (T, 9,828 w. || Personal Assistant AU || Humour, First Meetings, Snarky John) – One of the first things John did was to write up step-by-step instructions on how to conduct a proper job interview before handing it over to Mycroft for his perusal. There were no kidnapping, deserted car parks or stolen therapy notes anywhere on that list. (Or the one where John returned from the war and ended up working for Mycroft as his personal assistant slash doctor on retainer. Everything was fine, until he was sent to post bail for one Sherlock Holmes.)

The Nutcracker by Odamaki (T, 13,758 w. || Nutcracker AU ||  Christmas, Dark Magic, Dolls) – Sherlock is unimpressed with Uncle Rudy’s present. A doll? What does he want with a doll?

Software Malfunction by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (E, 16,679 w. || Android Sherlock, Love Story, Unhappy Ending, Angst) – “You think I can’t love you? Just because you’re made with metal, and detailed programming?” The doctor propped himself on his elbow, and looked down at it. “I am nothing but blood and bone, and tissue. Things just managed get mashed together in a manner that made me like this. Just like you were put together to make you how you are. When I kiss you-” he did so, briefly, to prove his point. Then more deeply, and lingering, because he could. “When I touch you, or smile at you, does it make you feel different from when others have done it in the past?”

Pleasure to Burn by scullyseviltwin (E, 17,863 w. || Firefighter AU, Firefighter John / Arson Investigator Sherlock, Slow Burn, Pining, Case Fic-ish) – “If you’d kindly stop knocking about in there and destroying all of my evidence, it would be most appreciated!” John groaned and for a moment rested his head against the side of the truck. Of course he was the only captain left on the scene, which meant he would have to be the one to deal with the arson investigator.

Uncharted Territory by J_Baillier (T, 19,603 w. || Dystopian Future / Black Mirror AU || Angst, Drama, Homophobia, Bisexuality, Technology, Humour, Romance, Near Future, Happy Ending) – The System puts people through a series of assigned relationships in order to determine who their Perfect Match is. John believes that it works; Sherlock really, really doesn’t. One of them is probably going to be wrong.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

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

The Boy Who Drank Stars by kinklock (E, 36,157w. || Howl’s Moving Castle AU || Witches and Wizards, Slow Burn, Magic, Jealous John, Happy Ending, Bed Sharing) – “I’m looking for a castle,” John informed the scarecrow. “A moving one.”Except that, as it turned out, it was not a moving one at all.

The Soul Remembers by i_ship_an_armada (E, 43,636 w. || Oblivion AU || Post-Apocalypse, Movie Fusion, Science Fiction, Action/Adventure, Angst, Dreams, Bittersweet Ending) – John Watson is the lone security repairman stationed on a desolate, nearly-ruined future Earth. His dreams are plagued by a tall, dark-haired man, and when his dreams meet reality, he will be forced to question everything he believes is the truth about his life.

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

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

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because…new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride… prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hill AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant – but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief…

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 77,750 w. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he’s a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover’s trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world’s highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school’s Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who’s been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose… is it a pirate’s life for him?

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Actor / Hollywood AU || Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Secret Relationship, Coming Out) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE ||70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn’t have much choice. There’s only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

MARKED FOR LATER

(these are fics I have in my MFL list for future reading and have not read them yet. Read at your own discretion).

My, She Was Yar by blueink3 (M, 5,313 w. || Cinema AU || Teenlock, Mention of Sex for Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending) – YAR: adjective; (nautical term, of a sailboat) agile, quick, easily manoeuvred. Or, the exact opposite of what Sherlock Holmes is when he stumbles into John Watson’s cinema and turns his life upside down. Part 7 of the Tumblr Prompts series

come be my april fool by a_different_equation (M, 6,473 w. || Great British Bake Off AU || Writer!Sherlock, Est. Rel., Fluff / Humour, Baking, Marriage Proposal, Military Kink, Domestics, POV John, Romance, Sherlock Wears Glasses, Sweet Sherlock, Bookstores, Queer Themes) – After leaving ‘The Great British Bake Off’, Sue Perkins has written a book about Victorian baking. Tonight, on April 1st, she is reading at ‘The Bard’, Mike Stamford’s bookstore in central London. It is the exact same spot where John Watson, battered and bruised, had learned all about his magnificent bastard – one Mr. Sherlock Holmes, famous gay crime fiction writer – for the first time. A story about found family, DRAMAtical lesbians, how to react when your boyfriend has a military kink but he doesn’t want to act on it, oh, and popping the question. Sequel to ‘i read your book, you magnificent bastard’. Part 2 of Magnificent Bastard!AU

Idle Hands by kinklock (E, 7,226 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Phone Sex, Alternate First Meeting, Dirty Sign Language) – While working as a video sign language interpreter for the deaf, John’s last client of the day asks him to interpret a highly unusual call. (aka deaf Sherlock wants to call a phone sex hotline AU)

What To Do With An Atypical Animal Within by HarveyDangerfield  & swimsalot (E, 7,804 w. || Harry Potter AU || Animagus, Porn With A Little Plot, Tail Porn) – Sherlock is determined to be an animagus. But what happens when it isn’t a fox or a horse or a dog he’s turning into?

Dead Letter Office by a_different_equation (M, 20,364 w. || ‘Bartleby’ Fusion / Office Setting AU || Different First Meeting, Epistolary, John’s Blog, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pre-Canon, John Watson is Sherlock’s Boss, PTSD John, Military Backstory, Writer John, Drug Use, Texting) – John Watson comes home from the war, gets a new job and meets Sherlock Holmes through Mike Stamford. Same tale since 1891, except this time it’s 2008, John is Sherlock’s boss, and they work together at the Dead Letter Office in London. It’s not a love story, until it finally is.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 24,904 +w. || WiP || Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Meet Cute, Prince Sherlock / Soldier John, Alternating POV) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Aquiver by Junejuly15 (M, 25,852 w. || Fashion Designer AU || PA John Watson / Fashion Designer Sherlock, Sherlock’s Feelings, Romance, UST, Arrogant Sherlock, Drug Use, Confessions, Protective Mycroft, Parties, BAMF John, Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time) – Sherlock Holmes is a successful and arrogant fashion designer and John Watson his new PA. Of course, sparks fly between them.

False Advertising by ravenscar (E, 27,722 w. || Office AU / Devil Wears Prada Inspired || Victor Trevor, Flashbacks, Hurt / Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, Younger John/Older Sherlock, Marriage Proposal) – Sherlock is John’s boss and mentor at an advertising agency. Can they find love in the cut-throat workplace?

Out and Loud by paradigmfinch (M, 28,233 w. || Popstar AU || Dancer/Ballet Sherlock / Singer John, Fluff, Falling in Love, Mutual Pining, Jealousy) – John Watson is a 22 year old pop star who’s about to come crashing out of the closet.Sherlock Holmes is a reluctant fanboy auditioning to dance in his next music video. Part 1 of Out and Loud

Looking Glass Cabaret by lymphadei (E, 30,874 w. || Cabaret AU, Alternate First Meeting, Drag Queen John, Fluff and Smut, Drama, PWP) – Lady Grey leant up on her toes, her hands on either side of his neck to steady herself as she pressed her lips against Sherlock’s ear. “I wouldn’t say a devil, Mr Holmes, but I’m definitely not on the side of the angels.” Then, she pulled back slightly to place a lingering kiss on his cheek. Part 4 of the Interpersonal Affairs series

Through Dangers Untold by hogwartswitch (E, 32,003 w. || Labyrinth AU) – The Goblin King has fallen in love with John Watson and visits him in dreams. But the evil wizard who cursed the Goblin King cannot allow that to continue. Will John survive the labyrinth? Or will he become a lost goblin like all the rest?

An Everlasting Inferno by thatawkwardfriend (M, 35,011+ w. || WiP || Criminal AU || Different First Meeting, Minor Character Death, Gun Violence, Sherlock Whump, Friends to Lovers / Enemies to Lovers, UST, Mutual Pining) – Sherlock and John are both men who operate outside the law. John works for Mary and her hitmen in order to keep a roof over his head. Sherlock does anything his drug dealer asks of him in exchange for free drugs and housing. They meet one night in a darkened garage to negotiate a deal. But they soon find out that neither of their bosses are being entirely honest with them about their goals or motives. With a little poking around, they stumble upon something much bigger than themselves and discover that perhaps, it might be in their best interests to work together. (Loosely inspired by StartUp and Little Favour)

Leveling Up by philalethia (M, 36,961 w. || Video Gamer AU || Different First Meeting, Epistolary, Gaming, Internalized Homophobia, Sexuality Crisis, Past Drug Use) – John plays video games, Sherlock writes a guide on GameFAQs, and they get on quite well together… eventually.Told entirely through emails, text messages, and voice chats.

Learning Curve by thpontiacbandit (M, 41,422 w. || Teacher / Parent AU || America, Fluff and Smut, Parentlock, Frottage) – John is a Kindergarten teacher. One of his students, a boy named Henry Holmes, refuses to speak in school. John is determined to get to the bottom of it, and that is how he meets Sherlock Holmes.

Fly Very High by yalublyutebya (E, 46,533 w. || Formula One AU || Rivalry, Permanent Injury, Hate / Angry Sex) – John Watson was born to be a racing driver, and even a crash isn’t enough to keep him out of a car for long. But coming back is not that easy, especially when he meets his new teammate, Sherlock Holmes.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock’s closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don’t need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Doubtful Comforts of Human Love by PoppyAlexander (M, 61,500 w. || Ballet / Rugby AU || Ballet Sherlock / Rugby John, Est. Long-Term Relationship, Marriage, Case Fic, Blow Jobs, Implied Infidelity, Angst, Dirty Talk, Violent Outbursts, Arguments, Relationship Discussions, Love Letters, Grand Gestures, Hopeful Ending) – UK Ballet principal dancer Sherlock Holmes and assistant rugby coach John Watson met and fell in love as ambitious, optimistic teenagers. Twenty years on, they are entering midlife, facing the break-down of their bodies and the ending of their careers, and contemplating what the future holds for two middle-aged men forced to start over. With a frightening crisis unfolding at the Ballet, Sherlock must balance the demands of his career, his friendships, and his marriage with his own struggle against bitterness and discontent, while John takes a long-overdue glance from the outside, in, and stutter-steps toward making a kind of peace.

The Craving in Between by love_in_mind_palace (E, 69,349 w. || Wedding Planner AU || Infidelity, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Sexting & Texting, Alternating POV, Mary is Not Nice) – Sherlock Holmes, The wedding Consultant. Picky about his projects and a nightmare to work with. Rejects ninety percent of the couples after just having a look at them and can predict how long a marriage will last. But when unassuming, plain, John Watson reluctantly limps his way in his office, with his more than enthusiastic fiancée, Mary Morstan, instead of dismissing the ill-assorted couple on the spot, he promptly decides that the project, and the groom.. are definitely worth working on.

Philia and Eros by distantstarlight (E, 84,660 w. || Historical AU || Friends to Lovers, Time Travel, Kilts, Possessive Behaviour, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Implied Rape/Non-Con) – Love is timeless but time isn’t necessarily linear. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are about to embark on an unintended adventure that will take them far away from the comfortable confines of 221 B Baker Street. Part 1 of Strange Paths

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn’t truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes.” Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Cake and Other Sins by Indybaggins (E, 100,670 w. || Great British Bakeoff AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Baking, Desire, Disability, Incest (Holmescest/Holmescest with John), Masturbation, Falling in Love, Oral, Outdoor Sex, Past Drug Use, Poisoning, Voyeurism) – Sherlock and John meet as competing bakers on The Great British Bake Off. There’s intense baking, lush recipes and enticing food. Mycroft, guilt, past sins in chocolate and gingerbread. And love. That too.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel.) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Emperor Tales of the Frozen South by cwb (M, 153,444 w. || Penguin AU || Adventure, Rituals, Fluff, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Gay Rights, Bonding, Antartica) – At the bottom of the world, two intrepid explorers make their way in the harshest of environments. An important journey must be taken, and prophecies fulfilled, but not before family meddling, political interference, and self-doubt threaten to alter the future of an entire species.If you know me at all, you know that this had to be done. Part 1 of Emperor Tales of the Frozen South

The Jewel in the Tower by PoppyAlexander (E, 207,079 w. || Dystopian AU, Violence, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Mild Dub Con, One World Government, Class Issues, Assassin John / Geisha Sherlock, Self Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, Espionage, Miscommunication, Sexual Fantasy, Masturbation, Letters/Texting, Phone Sex, Infidelity, First Time, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Injury Recovery, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Scars, Misgendering, Happy Endings) – In a contemporary dystopia, Unity is peace – despite the fact unsanctioned information, illicit currency, and every sort of danger flows unchecked in the world’s pleasure districts. John Watson, a weary hired gun, is assigned by the mysterious Mentor to investigate a subversive element lurking in the Icehouse, the world’s most famous House of Repose. As accustomed as he is to dealing with the unexpected, John is nevertheless woefully unprepared to meet the gem of the Ice house, Xie, the world renowned “drashaskaya,” the living work of art after which all other drashas are modeled. In sumptuous suites, amid trailing puddles of silk and fervent whispers in the night, John soon learns that nothing is as it seems in the floating world of London’s pleasure district. (PUBLISHED AS “At Night in the Floating World”)

You Go To My Head Series by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 257,765+ w. across 8 Stories, WiP || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Doctor John / Doctor Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson (senior neuroanaesthetist) and Holmes (neurosurgeon).

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies’ encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

Deflowered - Director’s Cut by Lorelei_Lee (E, 328,535 w. || Mafia / Mob AU || Rape/Non-Con, Dub-Con, Boss John/Rentboy Sherlock, Bottomlock, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous John, Prostate Milking, Sounding, Anal Beads/Plug, Anal Sex / Fingering, Spanking, Begging, Blow Jobs, Riding Crops, Begging, Romance, Desperation, Minor Character Death, Implied Self Harm, Violence) – It should have been strictly business. Being a Mafia boss with a sadistic sexual streak, John had long since realised that his playthings were in it for the money only. Being a masochistic rent boy, Sherlock seemed too good to be true. Little did they know…

[imagines-dreams]

Endgame Fix It - Fanfiction

aka I watched Endgame and I need to recover, so I rewrote it, for mental health... reasons....

also aka ENDGAME SPOILERS

Rating: PG-13 for you know... Endgame.... spoilers

Warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS

Summary: Steve, Loki, Tony, Nebula

Word Count: 3131

When Captain Marvel slashed through the ship in less than ten seconds, the tide of the battle changed immediately. She held Thanos’s hand open, and he couldn’t snap his damned fingers again. Thanos may have hit her with the Power Stone, but Captain Marvel had seen worse. She got back up and got him in a headlock easily, and before he could shake her off again, Thor was back on his feet again, and he held back his gloved hand. Thanos reached to remove him or Captain Marvel or anyone, but Tony and Steve got back up and held back his other arm.

For a few seconds, Thanos was subdued, but what now? They couldn’t hold him forever. Sure, Captain Marvel was very powerful, and sure, Captain America held back his hand with his own for a while, and yeah Thor hit him hard and killed him once, and ok, Tony made the Titan bleed, but still, this was taking a toll on all of them, and they couldn’t hold him back much longer.

But it wasn’t them who decided what to do next.

It was Nebula, his daughter. Thanos smiled a little. “You’ve come back.”

Nebula tilted her head and smirked ever so slightly. “Nor for you.” She sauntered over to Thor and took the infinity stones in her marred hand.

Thor stared at her, but he said nothing.

Tony grunted. “Nebula, no.”

“Daughter-”

“No.” She carefully placed each stone on her opposite hand with such delicate care. “No, you used me as a weapon, so now” -the stones were all on her hand now and she smiled up at her father- “I’m a weapon.”

“Our plan,” Thanos begged, as his daughter’s mercy, “it’s inevitable. It’s-”

“No.” She spoke so softly compared to the Titan, but her words held more weight, and it silenced him. “No, for once, I get to decide what I do. And I decide that you lose.”

Tony screamed his head off, nearly letting go of Thanos’s hand. Steve faltered, but he stood strong, and Thor closed his eyes and thanked her in his mind. Carol watched and smiled at the strong woman in front of her. She deserved this, an honorable death and vengeance against her father.

The army faded to dust. One by one, they fell and disappeared, and Thanos, too, turned to dust, not sparing a glance at his daughter.

“Nebula!” Gamora leaned over her sister and pulled her into her lap.

Nebula turned her neck, so slowly, so mechanically, and said, “Hello, sister.”

Tony rushed to her side and observed the damage. Friday calculated and assessed and in less than a second, he smiled, “You can be fixed. You have time.” The damage her arm sustained from the stones was fixable and replaceable. The part of her face that was marred and burned was mostly mechanical, and the part that wasn’t… It was beyond him

“T’Challa” Tony yelled. “Where’s T’Challa? He can help.”

Dr. Strange created a portal, and T’Challa walked through with two other women. “What do you need?”

Tony clarified, “I’ve read about your tech. Vibranium-based medicine.”

The younger girl tilted her head and approached Nebula.

“Do you have any on you? Can you help her?”

T’Challa just smiled. “I can’t help you.” He looked to his sister. “But Shuri can.”

Shuri was already getting to work. Her mind filled with everything that needed to be done. “This is amazing. Organic life with mechanical implements, beyond prosthetic.” She gulped as realization set in as to what the woman had to go through to become what she was. “Could be smoother,” Shuri commented, “Less painful.” She reached out, but Gamora flinched and held her sister close to her.

Shuri just smiled. “I can help her. I promise. I’ve fixed people before.”

Gamora stared at all the new faces around her, still not sure what was going on and who these people were to her future self or to Nebula, but her sister convinced her. With one look and the word, “Sister,” Gamora understood. She let the girl look over Nebula.

Shuri smiled and took out a metal ball. She placed it on Nebula’s head, where the scarred, organic skin met scarred metal. The metal ball transformed into liquid when it touched her head and wrapped itself around the wounded area of her head. “You will need more medical attention. I can provide that back home.”

Nebula looked to her sister.

“She can come, too.”

“Me, too.” Tony raised his hand.

Shuri stared at him and his suit. Nanotech. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Tony shook his head. “You need an extra hand.”

Shuri beamed. “Exactly.”

T’Challa turned to Dr. Strange. “May we?”

“Of course.” Dr. Strange created a portal, and they went to Wakanda. Tony said asked his wife how Morgan was, and after hearing Happy was watching over her, he kissed her and told her that he’d see her soon. Then, just before Tony left, he requested, “Hey, Strange, can you make sure the kid gets home?”

Dr. Strange stared at the kid, who was currently right behind Tony, probably planning on sneaking into Wakanda.

Peter gasped. “Wait, but it’s Wakanda!”

“Yeah, I can bring him home.”

“But-”

“No, buts, kid.” Tony put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and reminded him, “I’m sure your aunt would be happy to see you.”

Peter immediately nodded. “See you soon, sir.”

“Yeah, kid.” Then, he was gone.

Dr. Strange patted Peter’s back. “Come on, kid.”

Suddenly, a blue smoke puffed in front of them. Everyone still remaining got back into fighting positions. Peter got his mask back on. Captain America groaned and put up his fists. Captain Marvel just crossed her arms and waited.

“I’ve returned! Prepare to…” The man blinked a few times. “Did I miss it?” He stared at his wrist, a very much broken contraption on it. “This blasted thing. Curse that man in iron, he said it was-”

“Brother?”

“Yes, what is it? I’m busy here.” The man tapped his wrist thing furiously.

Thor stared at him. Then, he picked up a rock and threw it at the man’s face.

The man caught it and scoffed. “Really, was that necessary?”

Thor lit up, not with lightning, but with pure joy. “Loki!” He jumped right onto his brother, and the two nearly fell because of him. “You’re back! I thought you’d died. Thanos-”

“Is an idiotic titan who needed stones to defeat people.” Loki rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you thought he could defeat me?”

Thor’s eyes narrowed. Then, he threw another rock at Loki, which he caught. “Honestly, Thor-”

“You faked your death again?” Thor screamed and threw another rock. Then another. And another.

“Stop that.” Loki dodged the first two, but the third hit his shoulder. “Stop it!”

The two brothers continued throwing rocks at each other, and everyone else just stared confused.

Bruce whispered, “Isn’t Loki, you know, evil?”

“Apparently not?” Steve said, unsure of himself. So far, however, the god of mischief wasn’t doing anything bad. Except for making duplicates of himself for Thor to hit and scream at.

Valkyrie dismounted her pegasus. “Evil, kinda. A pain in our ass, definitely.” She smiled at the two. “But, I’ll keep them in line for you guys.” And so, when Valkyrie and her pegasus walked over to the two brothers and started yelling at both of them, no one questioned it.

Steve smiled at himself as he picked up the hammer again. Seriously, he had a sliver of hope that he could, but he never thought it could be true. He’d have to return that first. Then the rest of the stones.

And after, maybe visit someone.

Someone he really wanted to see.

Her name changed though. Peggy Carter was now Peggy Carter-Sousa. She was married to Daniel Soussa, and both of them still actively worked for Peggy’s organization, SHIELD, which was with no doubt named after him.

They were at a restaurant when Steven finally found them, rings on their fingers, and the first emotion Steve felt was happiness. Happiness for her. Because he knew she moved on, that she would become an amazing wife, mother, and leader. But seeing it was different.

She smiled so brightly with Daniel. She was going to be ok.

Then, her eyes caught his, and before he could escape, Peggy Carter was in front of him, eyes wide and expression unsure. She gulped, and it only took her a few seconds before she narrowed her eyes and said with certainty, “You’re not my Steve.”

Steve felt like he should’ve cried, but he didn’t. He did miss her voice, though. The soldier nodded.

Peggy crossed her arms. “And what are you doing here?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Even if I tried.” He smiled a little. “I’m happy for you.”

Peggy blushed and glanced back at the table inside where her husband was waiting patiently. She told him who was out here with her, and he knew it was better to stay out of it. The woman sighed. “And your family?”

Steve laughed a little. “They’re waiting for me.”

“Well,” Peggy smiled, “you shouldn’t be late.”

“You’re right.” Steve smiled even wider, because even though a part of him will love her, and a part of her will love him, they were different. They had different lives, and they shouldn’t waste it.

She kissed his cheek. “Go home.”

Steve sat next to Sam and sighed. “I think I’m done,” he said. “I’ve been a soldier all my life, and I don’t want to die a soldier.”

“So, what are you going to do, then?”

Steve smiled at Bucky, his oldest friend and maybe something more, and sighed. “Well, T’Challa offered me a place.”

Sam looked back at Bucky and smirked. “I see.”

Steve sighed. “I will always be there if you need me, but for now, I need some peace of my own.” And with that, Steve set his shield down and set it between them. “Try it on.”

Sam’s eyes widened. He had his title. Falcon and Captain America’s best friend. He stared at the shield, then at Steve, then at Bucky, and when nothing responded, he gingerly picked it up. It was a tad big on him.

“How does it feel?”

Sam tightened the strap on his arm. “Like it’s someone else’s.”

“It isn’t.”

He smiled at his friend, his role model, and said, “Thank you. I’ll try my best.”

Steve nodded. “And that’s why it’s yours.” He patted Sam on the back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m retiring.”

Sam laughed.

Steve nodded at Bruce, then he turned to Bucky and smiled.

“You saw her?” Bucky asked.

Steve nodded.

Bucky stared off into the distance. “I kinda thought you’d stay there.”

“No, I couldn’t.” The retired captain nudged his friend. “Hey.” And when Bucky’s eyes met his, Steve said, like he had said so many time before. “I’m with you til the end of the line.”

Bucky just shook his head, and with tears in his eyes, he managed to say, “Punk.”

Tony opened the door and was met with a high-pitched scream. It wasn’t of his wife or his daughter. No, instead it was one of his other, well, kids.

Harley, now nearing twenty-one, screamed and as he tried to hide his hand from Tony, Tony easily saw the poorly hidden hand, which was covered in metal. Like his own Iron Man gauntlet.

His wife, who was across the table from Harley, smiled politely. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you to talk. I’ll go check on Morgan.” She kissed his cheek and left.

Harley smiled brightly, one of his hands still behind his back. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Mhm.” Tony leaned over, trying to get a glimpse at what Harley had. “And that is?”

“Nothing.”

“Harley.”

The boy held up both his hands, and sure enough, there was nothing on his hands. “See. Nothing to see here, Mr. Stark.”

Tony eyed Harley’s wrists. Two Stark Industries issued watches, one on each wrist. “Right.” Tony nodded and grabbed Harley’s right hand. It was the second to newest model, not the newest model that Tony had given him two years prior. And the condition was very worn down for a two-year-old watch. Too many scratches. That, and there were a few noticeable changes only its creator would recognize. An extra dent here, a bit too light.

Harley gulped.

“Show me,” Tony said, stepping away.

Harley scoffed. “Show you what.”

“Come on, kid. You really think you can lie to me?”

The boy sighed. “Don’t be mad,” he reminded his mentor. Then, Harley inhaled deeply and swiped a finger across his right wristwatch. A hologram appeared above it, and with a few touches and clicks and drags of metal across skin, Harley’s hand was encased in metal, and in his palm sat a repulsor.

Tony opened the front door and pointed at a nearby tree. “There.”

“Mr. Stark?”

The mechanic grabbed a pack of trail mix. While eating, he pointed at the tree again. “Go on.”

Harley blinked, but still, he aimed and fired. A bright blue beam shot out of his hand and struck the tree. It wasn’t perfectly centered, but it was close.

“Not bad.” Tony sighed. “But no.” He walked past Harley to his office.

“No?” Harley followed him. “Wha-”

“I mean, no, you’re not becoming Iron Man.” Tony approached his desk, and the tabletop came to life with holograms and files. “That’s why you came here, right?”

“I mean… kinda?” Harley sighed. “It’s not just that, Mr. Stark. I wasn’t there for anything. I wasn’t there when the Avengers split up or when Thanos first arrived. I was on the sidelines. I can’t do that if something bad happens again.”

“Have you thought it through?”

The boy tilted his head. “Thought what through?”

“Thought all of this through.” Tony spread his arms and files upon files of his own superhero career appeared. From the rumors before he announced Iron Man to clips of his more traumatizing moments to files of the deceased. Yinsen, Phil Coulson, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff and so much more.

Harley stared at those files and flipped through them. He stared at Natasha’s file. He missed her. He met her before, a few times, and she was remarkable. He bowed his head. “I have.”

Tony nodded. “What about them?” Tony swiped his arm, and files appeared in front of Harley. His mom and his sister.

Harley smiled. He pulled his sister’s file. “Rosa’s in college now, studying art, and Mom?” Harley picked up her file. “Mom’s fine on her own, and I know she still needs me, but…” He sighed. “Mr. Stark, I need to be out there. I can’t let other people fight my battles. Not when I’m qualified to do the same.”

Tony nodded. “Show me all of it.”

“All of what?”

“Your suit. I saw the two watches.”

Harley smiled. He excitedly swiped and tapped and clicked and dragged, and the metal transformed and covered his hands. It spread to his arms and his chest, to his head and to his legs, and the familiar whir of a suit almost made Tony smile.

Soon, Harley was protected by his own suit, silver and red accents. His mask flipped up and revealed a brilliant smile. “How does it look?”

Tony saw the tiny details. The color change and the different arc reactor. The way the metal hugged Harley in a way his first suit couldn’t. He knew Harley was smart, but, shit, he never realized how hard this kid worked.

“Looks pretty good, kid. Pretty good.”

Harley smiled and packed his suit back into his watches. “So, am I an Avenger now?”

Tony took his time to chew and swallow his trail mix. “No.”

“No?”

“No, because” -Tony pressed a few buttons on the holograms and suddenly a building appeared between the two men- “you will train here first.” Tony pulled up some files and presented them in front of Harley. “Sam’s leading the training, with Wanda and Clint. We got some good names here. Peter, Shuri, Cassie, Lila.” Tony nodded. The four kid’s profiles were in front of him, and it looked good. Especially with Harley smiling with them.

“And you, Mr. Stark?”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve wanted to hang up the suit a long time ago, Harley. I thought I’d never be able to sit around just watch, but with the new Captain America and you guys taking care of the world.” He smiled up at the profiles. “I think I can at least take a little break.”

“So no interfering?”

“I never said that.” Tony returned all the files to the table and turned it off. “I’ll come in when I get worried. But for now,” he smiled fondly, “I’m going to take care of my girls. Before Tony could get more emotional, I mean the kid already saw him have a panic attack, Tony clicked his tongue. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

Harley grabbed his bag. “You know, Peter’s younger and he technically is an Avenger. So maybe-”

“Harley, I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You mean guilt tripping?”

Harley groaned. “It was worth a shot.”

A week later, there was a funeral for Natasha and Vision. Everyone was there. Their family. They set off memorials in the river and watched as they floated away. They would forever be remembered. A few years later, Steve and Bucky adopted a little girl with red hair and brown eyes. They named her Natalie, in Natasha’s honor. Clint cried when he held her.

The Young Avengers train, picking up kids who were qualified and had good heads on their shoulders and a good heart. The new Captain America led them well. They made names for themselves. Spider-Man not only protected New York, he also was the most experienced in the multiverse. Shuri goes back to Wakanda every now and then, but focuses most of her energy advancing technology and on training to become better and stronger. Lila becomes an amazing archer just like her father and never misses a shot. Cassie comes in when she’s needed, finding more interest in engineering than superheroing, but she loves her team. Harley soon becomes their leader, helped by Peter, and his name… Well.

“Iron Lad!”

Harley tilted his head. “What was that, Morgan?”

The girl giggled and pointed at his arc reactor. “Iron Lad.”

“Not the name I was looking for.” Harley laughed, brushed her hair back, and kissed her forehead. “But, in your honor.” He put his hands on his hips and put on his mask. “Iron Lad.”

The girl squealed as her older brother attacks her with tickles and kisses, and when she’s tired, she whispered, “I love you.”

“3000?”

“3000!”

I may or may not edit this, cause there’s still a few things I want to “fix,” but give me suggestions, give me feedback, and I might just post a second version! aka this is also me asking for reblogs and comments because i’m super nervous about this fic so please please please

[salmankhanholics]

★ Radhe Your Most Wanted Bhai: Salman Khan to battle 3 villains in the action movie!

Salman Khan's Radhe: Your Most Wanted Bhai, which is the Indianised version of the Korean action film, The Outlaws, also stars Disha Patani and Jackie Shroff in key roles

Mar 16, 2020 

While we have seen filmmakers pushing their movie due to the outbreak of coronavirus, Salman Khan's Radhe: Your Most Wanted Bhai has stuck to its original date as it will release on May 22 during the Eid weekend. While the first teaser is expected to release on March-end or first week of April. There is a latest news, which will make all Salman Khan happy as we will see the megastar battling out with not one or two but three villains, which are Randeep Hooda, Gautam Gulati and a Sikkimese actor Sang Hae.

Talking about a sequence, Randeep earlier told Mumbai Mirror, “There is this five-minute single shot for which my co-actor, who was on the heavy side, had to jump on my back. The stunt team insisted on several takes. When we were on the 18th one, my knee gave way,” Randeep recalls that he tried hard but the pain was intense and later he was rushed to hospital. “Ironically, they finally settled for the first take.” While the actor avoids playing negative roles, he came on board because of Salman Khan's request as he said, “I respect Salman as a person and an actor. He has a certain way of working and since we have collaborated before, I am used to it and we had a lot of fun.” He further added, “I chased Salman in Kick and coached him in Sultan. This time, I’m testing him to see how much he has learnt from me as his character hunts for mine.”

The film, which is the Indianised version of The Outlaws has three action directors, which have choreographed the stunts sequences. With one being a Korean action director, the other two are Anbu-Arivu (twins), who choreographed the action-sequences of Yash's KGF. Well, with three villains and some mind-boggling stunts and action sequences, we are sure that heroism of Salman Khan will go to next level in Radhe?

[bountyofbeads]

‘She was shaking’: Court filings describe system Jeffrey Epstein allegedly used to procure girls

https://wapo.st/2OMuAji

People close to Epstein fear he was murdered...as Epstein told authorities someone tried to kill him in a previous incident weeks earlier. He was described as being in good spirits in recent days...

Jeffrey Epstein dies by apparent suicide in New York jail

By Matt Zapotosky and Renae Merle | Published August 10 at 10:48 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 10, 2019 11:46 AM ET |

Jeffrey Epstein, the politically connected financier and registered sex offender charged recently with sexually abusing dozens of young girls in the early 2000s, has apparently died by suicide in prison, according to two people familiar with the matter.

Epstein, 66, hanged himself in the Metropolitan Correctional Center in New York City, though the exact timing was unclear according to ABC News, which was first to report the development.

Epstein, a multimillionaire with ties to celebrities and politicians including President Trump and former president Bill Clinton, was arrested last month on federal sex trafficking charges that could have put in him prison for 45 years. Prosecutors alleged he abused dozens of young girls at his Manhattan and Palm Beach, Fla., homes and enlisted his victims to bring him others.

Epstein had pleaded not guilty in the case, and a federal judge had recently denied his request to be released to home confinement.

Last month, Epstein was found in his cell with marks around his neck, and authorities were trying to determine if he was attacked or attempted suicide. He showed no obvious signs of distress at a later court hearing.

A Justice Department spokeswoman and a spokesman for the U.S. attorney’s Office in New York, which brought the new case against Epstein, declined to comment. Spokespeople for the Bureau of Prisons, officials with the Metropolitan Correctional Center and Epstein’s lawyers did not immediately return messages seeking comment.

Epstein’s case had attracted widespread attention — in part because of his wealth and political connections, and in part because of a lenient plea deal he reached more than a decade ago to resolve similar allegations. That 2008 agreement allowed Epstein to plead guilty to just two state charges in Florida, avoiding federal exposure entirely, and spend just 13 months in jail, with work-release privileges.

The deal was approved by Alex Acosta, who was then the U.S. attorney in Miami and would go on to become Trump’s labor secretary — a post he resigned after Epstein was charged last month and the controversy over the previous case was reignited.

Epstein’s death is sure to draw intense scrutiny of the Bureau of Prisons and the Metropolitan Correctional Center. The high-rise federal detention center in downtown Manhattan has a fearsome reputation; one inmate who spent time there and in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, famously said Guantanamo Bay was “more pleasant” and “more relaxed.”

The facility is no stranger to high-profile inmates. It recently housed notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman while he was on trial in Brooklyn, and former Trump campaign chairman Paul Manafort has spent time there around court proceedings in New York — though records show he has since been moved to a different facility in Pennsylvania.

The facility in New York also housed Ramzi Ahmed Yousef, who masterminded the 1993 World Trade Center Bombing, and Bernard Madoff, who ran the biggest Ponzi scheme in U.S. history.

‘She was shaking’: Court filings describe system Jeffrey Epstein allegedly used to procure girls

By Beth Reinhard, Marc Fisher, Tom Hamburger and Carol D. Leonnig | Published August 09 at 7:41 PM ET | Washington Post | Posted August 10, 2019 11:44 AM ET |

He demanded sex three times a day. A parade of powerful figures visited his private estates, which were adorned with pictures of naked girls and stocked with sex toys. And the schedules of teenagers on call to give him massages at his Palm Beach, Fla., mansion were documented in phone messages from his assistants.

Those and other claims about financier Jeffrey Epstein unsealed in court filings Friday lay out disturbing details both about his alleged activities and the number of people in his orbit who could have observed them, raising new questions about how the sex abuse charges against the multimillionaire were previously handled.

Epstein, who is now facing federal sex trafficking charges involving the alleged abuse of dozens of minors, previously pleaded guilty in Florida state court to two felony counts, serving about 13 months in jail. A federal judge ruled in February that the prosecution team led by then-U.S. Attorney Alexander Acosta, who recently resigned as President Trump’s labor secretary, violated the rights of alleged victims by failing to notify them of an agreement not to bring federal charges.

The newly unsealed documents — part of a now-settled defamation case brought by one alleged victim, Virginia Roberts Giuffre, against a woman she said recruited her — depict an organized system to regularly provide Epstein with girls. 

In one 2005 message detailed in the documents, an Epstein assistant noted that one girl wanted to know if she could come to the house at a later time. “She is wondering if 2:30 is o.k. She needs to stay in school,” the message read.

Epstein has pleaded not guilty to the current charges against him. Martin Weinberg, an attorney for the financier, did not respond to a request for comment Friday about the documents.

The material was gathered as part of the defamation suit brought by Giuffre against Epstein associate Ghislaine Maxwell that was settled for an undisclosed sum in 2017.

A federal appeals court in New York last month ordered documents related to the case to be made public.

In a 2016 deposition included in the filings, Giuffre said she was a “teen sex slave” who traveled to his homes in New York, Palm Beach, New Mexico and the Caribbean and was directed to give massages and have sex with Epstein and his friends at will.

“I’m angry with anybody who has it in their mind that they can hurt and abuse a minor child and continue to lie about getting away with it and that what they’ve done is okay,” Giuffre said in the deposition. “Yes, I’m furious.”

Lawyers for Maxwell did not respond to requests for comment Friday. In a 2016 deposition, Maxwell said: “Virginia is an absolute liar and everything she has said is a lie. Therefore, based on those lies I cannot speculate on what anybody else did or didn’t do . . . everything she said is false.”

Giuffre has said she was recruited by Maxwell when she was 16 or 17 and working at Mar-a-Lago, Trump’s club in Palm Beach. According to the court filings, Mar-a-Lago produced 177 pages of records in response to a subpoena, including one chart showing that she had been a summer worker at age 17 and that she was terminated in 2000.

In a deposition, Giuffre said Epstein told her Trump was a “good friend,” but she said that she had never seen them together. 

Giuffre said that she was told by Maxwell that she would be trained at Epstein’s residence as a masseuse, but that “on the very first meeting that I had with him . . . she instructed me to take off my clothes and to give oral sex to Jeffrey Epstein.”

Asked in a deposition about Maxwell’s role in procuring girls for him, Epstein refused to answer, citing his constitutional protection against self-incrimination.

Giuffre said that Epstein flew her around the world and introduced her to an array of political and entertainment figures. She also said that Epstein told her that he had his house wired with hidden video cameras that recorded her every move, even in the bathroom.

In the court documents, Giuffre named a number of prominent men she claimed she had sex with at Maxwell’s instructions, including Britain’s Prince Andrew, former New Mexico governor Bill Richardson (D) and former Senate majority leader George J. Mitchell (D-Maine).

“My whole life revolved around just pleasing these men and keeping Ghislaine and Jeffrey happy,” Giuffre said in the deposition. “Their whole entire lives revolved around sex.”

On Friday, representatives of both Richardson and Mitchell denied her allegations, saying the men never had any contact with Giuffre.

The British royal family and Prince Andrew have repeatedly denied her claims. “Any suggestion of impropriety with underage minors is categorically untrue,” a spokesperson for Buckingham Palace said Friday.

Attorney Alan Dershowitz, who represented Epstein at one point, has vigorously denied Giuffre's allegation that she had sex with him, calling her a “certified, complete, total liar.”

Those remarks prompted Giuffre to file a defamation suit against Dershowitz, which is ongoing.

Giuffre was part of a sprawling network of young women allegedly targeted by Maxwell to give massages that led to sexual relations with Epstein and his friends, according to the court documents.

Johanna Sjoberg, a student at Palm Beach Atlantic University, testified that Maxwell recruited her to be “a legitimate assistant” answering phones for Epstein and then “asked her to perform sexual massages for Epstein, and punished her when she didn’t cause Epstein to orgasm.”

Asked if she had ever tried to get Epstein to explain why he received so many massages from so many different girls, Sjoberg said in a deposition: “He explained to me that, in his opinion, he needed to have three orgasms a day. It was biological, like eating.”

A chef who worked for friends of Epstein recalled meeting a visibly upset young woman who said she had been hired as “Jeffrey’s executive personal assistant.” She was 15.

Rinaldo Rizzo said the girl told him, tearfully, that she had been taken to Epstein’s home in the Virgin Islands and asked for sex. She said she had no memory of how she had returned to New York.

“She was shaking,” Rizzo testified. “I mean literally quivering. . . . She says, ‘I’m not supposed to talk about this.’”

The documents also include images of telephone messages from Epstein assistants summarizing calls from people procuring girls. “Has girl for tonight,” one says. “Confirmed [redacted name] at 4 pm. Who is scheduled for morning? I believe [redacted name] wants to work.”

Several messages from 2005 say only, “I have a female for him.”

Massage tables were scattered around Epstein’s home in Palm Beach, said Juan Alessi, who worked for Epstein from 1991 to 2002. He said in a 2016 affidavit that a massage “was like a treat” that Epstein provided his guests. He said that as many as 100 masseuses visited the property in the time he worked for Epstein, mostly women.

Epstein only took his massages in his private suite, which adjoined Maxwell’s bedroom suite, but was off limits to guests, he said. Alessi said he would clean up Epstein’s suite up after these massages and would sometimes find vibrators and sex toys in Maxwell’s sink.

Rosalind S. Helderman, Manuel Roig-Franzia, Matt Zapotosky and Deanna Paul in Washington, and Lori Rozsa in West Palm Beach, Fla., contributed to this report.

[soaringlanddormitory]

Title: The Risks [3/?]

Summary: A supposedly new head of the family quits his role to make his own gang. It was his choice to make, and this was the path he decided to take.

Word Count: 3988

Notes:

This part will focus on how Hanako and Tetsuji joined the gang!! Also the chapter after this will focus on them as a whole!! I think there will be a total of 5 chapters in total!! I hope you guys would like it !!! Also the first recruits of Dai will show up!!

Hanako/Lotus and Rin belongs to @polar-stars!!

Emile/Canción belongs to @polar-star-dorks!!

Part 1 can be found here! Part 2 here! Comments are appreciated, and remember that I love you!!

The phone was placed down after the conversation she had with the male and she wondered why he would suddenly ask her out. At occasions, he would only drop by and bring her some lotus flowers to have a conversation with her- but he never really asked her out to go somewhere before. She placed the phone aside, making sure it didn’t drop. She sighed, her cheeks still red.

She may have thought that it was him only being sweet, but there was something about his voice sounded serious. It was a mix of playfulness, but she could tell there was something odd- she couldn’t pinpoint it. However, the possibilities were endless. 

Why would he want her to visit his house from all places?

The male walked back to his living room, and he only heard the sound of music. A grin was seen on his face as he walked closer to his friends. “Music time already, I’m guessing.” He jumped to the couch before casually lying down. He really loved the sound of the songs he played on the guitar, and he felt really warm the moment Emile began singing. 

“I’m accepting requests, mi amigo.” He stopped for a moment so that his friend can hear him. “So if you want a song to hear, I’ll do it for you!” He smiles brightly and Kaoru laughs before he hugged up a pillow and sat up. What could he possibly suggest? The musician waited for his friend to reply, and once Kaoru knew what he wanted- he snapped his fingers.

“How about... the song made by Bruno Mars? The one with numbers?”

“Count on me?” 

“Yes.” He grinned. “That perfectly describes our friendship here.” Once he said those words, Emile looked like he was in peace.

“Alright, mi amigo.” He began strumming his guitar and began singing the song. This was one of the favorite things to do of the group every time they were together. Hearing him sing, being in the living room together... It always felt so great. It made them feel like they were completely normal people, and it made everyone in the room happy.

After a few song requests, Emile stopped and Masae began talking. “So Ruru, who were you talking to?” With that sudden question, he only raised an eyebrow. “Was it someone we know? Do we have something to do?” Ah. She meant who he was talking to a few minutes ago. 

“It was Hanako.” He replies. “I’ve asked to meet her because I should... probably explain everything to her. I wouldn’t want to keep secrets from her... Also I may be planning to ask her to join the little group of ours. She’s always been someone who I can trust with everything, especially when it comes to managing. She probably is great in planning things out too.”

“Alright, understandable.” Masae stood up before she glanced at Emile. “Play Can’t Help Falling In Love With You, if that’s okay!”

“Wait- NO! I’m being serious, Sae. It’s totally business related thing.”

“I heard mi amigo say it was a date.” 

“Emile never lies.”

God, Kaoru forgot how Emile can hear things beyond what a normal human can hear, and that Masae would literally trust him with anything- even if he told her dinosaurs fucking existed. “Fine, yeah. I told her that. It was to make her not overthink. If I said I had something to tell her, she’d probably wonder about it until Saturday.” He explained and once he did, they both believed in him. “She worries a lot, I don’t want to add up to her problems.”

At one point, Kaoru had to stay in his house and he waited for Masae and Emile to come back from their small mission together. He looked at all the people that had possibilities of getting targeted according to the people Emile negotiated with and the expression of his face changed after he saw the amount of people getting targeted in his school. “I do know that the people in middle school and high school were pretty rich but...” He flipped through the notes, fear in his eyes. “But this much... It’s probably...” His eyes darkened, and he twitched a bit. “Her.”

The door banged open, with Emile entering first, panting. Kaoru lost focus on the files he held and he instantly approached his friend. “The dorm called “Sakura Tokyo”...” He tried to catch his breathe. “There’s a shooting near it. Sae... She told me to go ahead... To tell you...”

Kaoru immediately paled. “Sakura... Tokyo?” That was the dorm where Hanako was currently living in, because she had an internship inside a place nearby. “Fuck. Emile... I...” He knew he couldn’t leave Emile alone in this area, and he wish he could split himself up. “Wait shit... Hold on...” He tried to think of another possibility to do, but his thoughts were stopped as soon as someone opened the door.

Out of surprise, Emile prepared a trap he was ready to push the trigger of, while Kaoru was prepared to throw a knife at someone’s head Before anything happened, the two observed the people who entered.

Two women. One with ginger hair and blue eyes. Another with white hair with icey eyes.

“Christelle... and I’m guessing you’re the new recruit of “Death”.”

The expression of the female became dangerous. “Yes. But he told me to come here quick. I don’t want anything to do with you, I only want to do as commanded.” She places her gun in her holster. “Emile Amamiya.”

Emile froze, not being that familiar with the woman who knew his name. “That’s me.” Luckily, he knew the person beside her so he gently placed the trigger back in his pocket.

“I and Christelle will protect you, for now.” She sighed, as she began tying up her ponytail. “I believe our gang leader will explain everything later. But we’ve heard about you.”

The girl with ginger hair moved closer to Kaoru before slapping him on the face to make him go back to reality instead of thinking of things. “What are you doing? You trust us, right? We got this. Go ahead. Go to “Death” and Sae. Be their back-up.” 

With that, Kaoru only looked back at Emile, before looking at the girls. “I trust you two because I trust your leader, don’t get me wrong.” He brought his pistol out, before spinning it around and catching it. “However, if anything happened to Emile, I’ll kill the both of you.” With that, he left the house.

Christelle only went to Emile before presenting herself politely, while Rin began panicking in the inside, but she showed no fear on the outside. “... Your leader has the guts to threat us like that.”

Kaoru finally arrived in his destination, and he noticed that Masae was back-to-back with another gang leader. “Aroon.” The male who was behind his member caught his attention. “Quick. Go inside the Sakura Tokyo Dormitory. An unknown figure went inside, and I believe he wielded a knife.” He gave him some details. “She and I can handle this.” A grin suddenly formed on his lips. “They’re fucking ants compared to us.”

Despite the increasing heart beats each second that Kaoru was experiencing, the only thing he could do was follow whatever the man could say. “I trust you with this, “Death”. Make sure all the enemies are gone when I’m back.” He raced inside the dorm while holding his gun.

Shit. Who were they aiming for? He wasn’t able to ask Emile... What if they... Fuck, he shouldn’t think about it. Despite people hiding and screaming once he entered, he only went through each floor to find a suspicious figure. He kicked the door open in each room, because he believed that the people were either on the ground floor or have evacuated by now.

“Oh, I didn’t expect to see you here, Aroon.”

“What the fuck do you want?” 

Kaoru pointed the gun at the male who held a person with his hands. To his dismay, it was no other than the woman he talked to just a few days ago.

“... Let her go.”

She was currently blindfolded and held down. She even had her mouth covered by duct tape. She was a hostage. The person couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I hope you remember be, and the day where you decided to shame me in front of all of your schoolmates.”

“You’re too old for this fucking business.” He gritted his teeth. “She hasn’t done anything to you. Leave her out of this.” 

His mind was hazed. He knew that he could shoot the person dead at the moment, but if he did... There would be a chance that he’d stab the girl with one single wrong move. He had to calculate all the possibilities.

“I’ll give you three questions. If you answer all of it, I’ll let her go.” The man smirked and the girl was calm, she didn’t even show a single bit of fear. But maybe she was trying not to show it. She could hide things, after all.

He had no choice, now did he?

“Fine. Bring it.” Kaoru gulped, hoping that he would at least answer some questions vaguely, or the person in front of him was enough of a dumb ass to give him useless questions.

“First off, what’s your intention of joining the Yakuza?”

This wasn’t harmful to know, because it never dealt with anything too personal. “At first, I wanted to be a vigilante.” He paused. “Later on, I wanted to have revenge,”

“Second, who are the members of your gang?” 

He bit his bottom lips, but he knew there was an alternative. He couldn’t give the name of his gang members, that’s basically betraying their trust. “Canción and Gaia.”

“Third, Their real names?”

That was one thing he will never answer. Now, he had to pick his gang or a woman that he considered as a friend. He twitched slightly, his hands was trembling as he continued to point the gun at the man’s head. No matter what, it would be a dead end. “Can my name be said instead?”

“Fuck no. I already know it. Your face is too similar to a Chankul member, I am guessing you’re his son.”

Kaoru began looking down,and he began sweating. This was one of the hardest things to do if you were a-

“YOU BITCH!” His attention shifted to the scene before him. The girl held a Swiss Knife, and her hands were currently untied and there was a slash on the leg of the man. She quickly removed the duct tape off her mouth. “Come back here, you’re the only hos-”

“Shoot him!” She yelled and he followed her instruction. 

One single “bang” was heard inside the dorm, and with this- a body was down on the floor. The woman removed her blindfold. “It’s good I’ve always kept the swiss knife that Kao-” Once she met the eyes of the person who shot the man down, she was speechless.

“... I’m pretty sure you don’t know how to react.” He frowned before keeping his gun.

“Wait-”

They had direct eye contact, but he quickly avoided it, and she was able to tell that he had guilt in his eyes.

“I believe the Saturday Date is cancelled.” He runs through her before quickly jumping off the window. Even if she wanted to give him a response, he was gone before she could tell him anything.

After a few minutes, police sirens was heard in the district.

Saturday, 6:39 PM.

Kaoru was present inside the dining room talking to a someone who was almost twice his size. His head was down, and he was placing his head on his arms which were on top of the table.

“You do know when the food arrives, you have to sit properly. I think Masae is almost done.” 

“I know, Tetsuji...” He began fixing himself, looking a bit restless. “I know you might think I did the wrong move... and fuck, I probably did. I should have told her.”

The man sighed softly. “I do believe you have your reasons of why you keep things from her. You probably thought of her too much.” He pointed out. “You must have been terrified of how worried she’ll be and that stopped you.”

He nodded his head. “I think that’s the reason.” He answered, but he still felt like shit. “Or I was afraid that maybe she’d... be scared of me. I don’t know.” 

Even if Kaoru knew himself well, he couldn’t really say the real reason why he kept it from her... But maybe it was already said. 

“It’s a surprise you’d think that.” Tetsuji stated. “I’ve already told her that I was planning to join one, she may have tried to stop me a couple of times because of worry, but it quickly passed and she ended up telling me that I shouldn’t die, and if I made the promise- she’d accept it.”

“You’re... just beginning. You’re not even in one yet...” He gestured to himself. “Then there’s me! Who’s a fucking leader!” He leaned on the chair before placing his hands all over his face. “I’ve been a leader for two months, and more than that if you count Dai. And then if you count Eizan and Kuga, just imagine how long I’ve been in this life... My dad is a head, and then my mom can literally slit someone’s throat and cry right after... God, I’ve been in this life forever...” He began messing up his own hair. “And I never fucking told her.”

“I do believe it’s you just being reasonable. You never told Emile, until months ago. Masae only knew because she was your childhood friend. I only knew because you’ve told me when I said I was interested.”

“You never tell anyone anything, until you think it’s the right time.”

Kaoru became quiet, and he began believing whatever he said. “You really are my dad friend from my other friends.” He smiles a bit. “That helped a bit.” 

“Mi amiga! Pleasure to see you at this hour!”

“Emile, who en-”

Kaoru spun around to spot a female with her hair tied to a bun. She walked across the room to be near him. “You told me that we’re going to meet at 7. I always come 15 minutes prior to the meeting.” She looked around the room, and she noticed that Tetsuji was also present. “So what’s going on?”

“I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“And why wouldn’t I? I always go as scheduled.”

He was stunned by her answer. He always thought that after hearing that he shot someone, and seeing his face while he was doing his “job”- that she would be scared of him. That was the main reason why he wanted to talk before she ever saw anything.

Hanako looked at her watch. “Is my watch wrong?”

He didn’t respond immediately, but he did a gesture. “If you’re okay with it, then maybe I could talk to you in a more private room.”

“I don’t mind.”

Kaoru stood up from his chair before doing a salute to the man he was talking to. “Talk to you later, Tetsuji. Just eat with the other two, we’ll be back soon.”

They were currently inside the room of the gang leader, and it revealed a couple of things she’s never seen him wield before. “I certainly did not expect you to have this much weapons.” She stated before she brought out her Swiss knife. “I expected you to have some after giving me this for protection, but... this is way more than I thought you’d have.”

He sat down on the chair that was near his desk, and he started observing her. He couldn’t read her, and he couldn’t tell what she could have been planning or thinking about. “I gave you that to make sure that you have at least one self-defense weapon. I could have given you pepper spray, but I thought that you’d be better with a sharp object.”

“Out of topic.” She spoke. “But can I tell you something?”

He was already ready for the worst since he did betray her trust, but he did want to listen. “... Sure. I’m ready for anything.”

“It got me bewildered that you’d say that to me.” She kept her pocket knife back in her pocket. “When you said that you believed that the date was cancelled just because that whole scenario happened.”

He halted his movement for a moment. “... Is that all?”

“Actually... No.” She crossed her arms. “I wanted to ask... if you actually assumed .that I didn’t know that you were part of the Yakuza? I just could never conclude it because I’ve never seen you in action until yesterday. And you never told me.”

He was a little startled, hearing that she reacted like that. “If you knew, why were you never scared of me?”

“Why would I? You would never harm me, wouldn’t you?”

“I would never...”

“Exactly. Why would I be scared of someone who’d never harm me?” She brought up. “I may have been worried about you, and I wouldn’t want you to be in this dangerous business. However, it seemed like you were too into it, so I couldn’t stop you.”

He knew that she was brave, and that if she had something in mind- she’ll always do it. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you. I’ve even seen you bring that man down almost by yourself.”

“I would have been able to.” She brought up. “I made a plan for every thing that he may have done, I just thought shooting him down would waste less of my time. I still had several things to do, and I wouldn’t let a man mess with my time.”

“You’ve always amused me, Miss Hanako.” He began grinning. “I’ve always liked you, but right now, I’m even more interested.” He laughed, before pointing at his own bed. “You may sit, I want to ask you a couple of questions.”

She only sat down, but in an instant, she brought out her knife to block something that was thrown at her. 

“Immediately sliced.” He was honestly impressed. “Through and through. Your reaction time beats mine.” He praised her. “You probably are the best person in planning but...” He placed his elbows on top of his desk before leaning. “I don’t think I should do it anymore.”

“Actually. Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask. Why did you want to have a date?” 

Kaoru almost forgot why she was here, and it was because he asked her out. She never left things unanswered, and she would want to conclude everything while she can. “I wanted to tell you this, but after the whole incident... I don’t think I can.”

“I still want to know. But if you’re not ready...”

“No, I am. But will you hate me after I ask?”

“Never.” She smiled. “I won’t be able to hate someone who always tried his best to try and cheer me up throughout my whole middle school and high school life.”

A blush went across his cheeks, but he shook his head to snap out of it. “That was sweet for you to say but...” He began tensing up. Somehow, asking Emile and Masae was easier... but it was probably because they told him that they wanted to join himself. “God, my plan was ruined because I thought you’d not come. We were suppose to have steak, and eat together. Then I’ll bring it up... but the mood is all ruined.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. The mood may not match, but I do want to know why you’d want this. You never asked me to come over.”

“I was supposed to tell me what I was, but you knew it- so it would have been useless. Probably show you around my house, and show you my room in specific, which has weapons and make you guess. You are clever, I knew you’d know.”

Hanako began listening to his story. “Yeah, I do know. I would have guessed it before you showed me your room. So then what?”

“I would have asked you... If you wanted to join.” He raised his arms in the air. “Trust me, you don’t need to... But Hanako, I’ve always wanted to know that I greatly appreciate you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Listen... You’re smart, and your ability to absorb information is beyond what a normal human can do. You’re able to manage anything, and you’ve always planned ahead... The fact of what happened when you found out the truth and confirmed it proved everything.” He paused, and he hoped she understood what she meant. 

“And this means?”

“Everything about you, it just shouts out that we could include you in our gang, you’ll be essential in our group...” He stood up before going closer to her. “We need you. We need your ability, no one can fit the role better. You’re one of the best people I’ve met. And... I don’t think I can find anyone better.”

She was overwhelmed with all the compliments he said, and he was able to point out her talent. He’s always been the type to be able to see the best of her, and he’d always support her for whatever. “I see...”

“You don’t need to accept my offer to join us, you can take your time. I don’t mind waiting for an answer.” He patted her head. “I don’t want to force you. I want you... to pick for yourself.” He walked over to the door.

“I’m glad you’re giving me time. It’s a lot to take in.” She walked over to him, and he soon opened the door. “But thank you for everything you said. I feel more confident in myself because of you.”

“Glad to do so, milady. You deserve all the praise thrown at you.” He gestured her to go outside. “Hopefully, you don’t mind that the supposedly romantic dinner with a candlelight is not happening. But we’ll eat together with friends.”

“I think it’s fine.” She responded.

“Alright, after you, milady.”

She wasn’t forced to join, and she did not need a deadline for her decision.

After four months, Tetsuji was driving a car with a woman inside. She crossed her legs, looking at a stack of papers. “Are you finally giving a response to him?” The man asks as he finally steps on the break. “I’ve joined him three months ago, I believe that you’re the only left that he’s waiting for.” The both of them exited the car and knocked on the door of the ever-so -familiar house.

“I’m well informed. I’ve been thinking for months.” She told the tall man and the moment the door opened, they spotted the gang leader with a suit on. “So, leader... I’ve made my decision.”

“What is it, Miss Hanako?”

“I’m joining the gang.”