#Said he'd want to keep in contact by sending letters

[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

[griseldagimpel]

How to Punish Democrats in the United States for Being Pro-Genocide

I've seen a lot of posts about abandoning the Democratic party. (Because, really, is Be Anti-Genocide really that much of a fucking ask??)

And I've seen a lot of posts about how not voting Democrat means the Republicans will win, which means we'll end up with politicians that are both pro-genocide and a bunch of other awful shit. (Yep. This is true.)

But I haven't seen a lot of posts going around about other things people could do, especially with primaries literally being next year in which the entire House of Representatives and a third of the Senate are up for re-election.

For those not familiar with primaries, they are elections that take place before the general election and are the mechanism for how the general election candidate for a political party is selected. So a primary won't be Democrat vs Republican, it'll be Democrat vs Democrat or Republican vs Republican.

To start, yes, a lot of the below require a lot of time and effort. Yeah, the reality is is that the world's a shitty place because people who want to change it are struggling to exist under late stage capitalism. If there's something on this list you can't do, that's fine. What can you do?

This post is mostly not going to focus on Biden. He's not the sum total of the Democratic party, and if more of the party was against him, he'd have a harder time getting traction. That said, if you do have a presidential primary with him on the ballot, you should absolutely vote against him, just on principle.

Depending on the state, you may need to be a registered member of the Democratic Party to vote in the Democratic Party Primary. And, look, registering as a Democrat doesn't mean you have a legal obligation to vote for a Democratic candidate in the general election. There's no loyalty pledge you have to sign that says you agree with every single position the Democratic Party holds. There's not a membership fee. Literally, all it does is mean that your little voting card says you're a Democrat, which establishes that you want to have a say in how the Democratic Party is run. That's it.

Alright, first step. Who are your two Senators and one House Representative? Here's a link to find that information: https://www.usa.gov/elected-officials

Second step: Are your elected officials Democrats? (Or Independents that caucus with the Democrats?) And are they pro-Genocide?

If they're a Republican, than your goal is to elect an anti-Genocide Democrat. (Or anti-Genocide Independent who'll caucus with the Democrats. Same difference. I'm just going to use "Democrat" from here on out, and you can substitute in "Independent" if it applies.) You still care about primaries, though. It's just that in the General election, the Republican candidate will be incumbent rather than the challenger.

If they're a anti-Genocide Democrat, send them a letter telling them you appreciate their position, and most of the rest of this post doesn't apply to you.

If they're a pro-Genocide Democrat, is there someone running against them in the primary? https://ballotpedia.org/ is a great resource here.

If they've got a primary challenger, is their primary challenger anti-Genocide? If they are, write them and tell them you appreciate their position. Then write to the incumbent and tell them that them being pro-Genocide is why you aren't voting for them in the primary. If the primary challenger is pro-Genocide or doesn't have a stated position, write to them and try to get them to adopt an anti-Genocide position. Pay attention to town hall events, and don't hesitate to contact the campaign. Primaries don't get a lot of attention, so if you can get a primary challenger to switch positions, there's not a big risk of blow back for them doing so. (In a general election, switching positions can get a candidate labeled a flip-flop, so keep that in mind.)

If there's not a primary challenger or if you need a better primary challenger, who in your community can run as one? Check with your local leftist organizations. Check deadlines and requirements to get a candidate on the ballot. It usually requires getting a certain number of signatures on a petition from people in your area.

Now that you've got an anti-Genocide primary challenger, consider volunteering for their campaign. And, something to keep in mind, turn out for primaries tends to be low, and the smaller the population size of the district, the lower that number will be. It may only take a few hundred votes to swing a primary election, if you've got a smaller district.

While all this is going on, you will no doubt be flooded with messages from Democratic candidates begging for money. For each, check their position. If they're pro-Genocide, don't give them money and then call, email, or write them telling them that their pro-Genocide position is why they aren't getting money. If they're anti-Genocide, and you can afford it, give them a bit of money. Yeah, in the bigger elections, there's ridiculous amounts of money in play, but a primary challenger might not necessarily be rolling in it.

Finally, vote in the primaries.

[dovabunny]

Want some omegaverse GhostSoap baby drama?

Ghost (alpha) dumps Soap before the omega could tell him he's pregnant. Soap was devastated from the break up, but couldn't get it over his heart to terminate. So, he decided to retire - effective immediately, without honours. The only person on base who knew was the dedicated omega doctor who could only cover for him so long before he couldn't hide it anymore.

He slips out in the night.

But he didn't realize someone was following...

Price had gone to his office at 2am looking for his favorite lighter when he found the letter under the door from Soap about his immediate resignation and retirement. He rushes out in time to catch Soap sneaking off base with just his bag.

He was suspicious that Soap had maybe crossed them, that he was deflecting. He overhears 'the airport' between Soap and the driver who just pulled in. In a mad rush he runs to his room to grab a backpack then set out to follow the man from a distance.

Soap had been distant for the past few months, increasingly so. His doctor had him booked off active duty, only allowing office work and recruit training but even then he was withdrawn. It didn't help his suspicions.

He follows Soap all the way to Scotland to a small town.

He watches from afar as a very nervous Soap knocks on the door of a cozy family home and is greeted in joy. An hour later he watches Soap fling the door open and leave again, screaming and cursing can be heard from inside. His face stained with tears, a red bruise on his cheek.

Had he gotten in trouble with an informant? Was his superiors not happy with his report or performance? He'll wait till he calls Laswell. He needs more Intel first.

He quickly sends Ghost a text that said 'till I'm back you're in charge'.

He follows as Soap takes the late train to the next town and checks into a small motel. Over the next few weeks he mostly stays in, sometimes visits the hospital. Is that where he meets his contacts? Is the motel a front? Slowly Price's suspicion turns to concern, and worry.

Then an ambulance is called to the motel. Price spots Soap being loaded in.

He can't fake the local accent to blend in so he stays outside the small-town hospital for a day and a half before Soap appears again...

... carrying a small bundle in his arms.

But something doesn't add up, something is off.

Soap seems devastated in a way that breaks Price's heart. He smiles through the tears at the little one in his arms as he slowly walks down the street into the night air.

A few blocks down he stops in front of the small orphanage next to the church. He places the warmly swaddled little one at the orphanage's steps, knocks and quickly leaves sobbing.

Before the door can even be answered, however, Price finds his body moving. He dashes out of his hiding spot and swoops the wee one into his arms, quickly walking away as he hears the door being answered to nothing and no one.

A block down, once he's sure it's safe, he peeks down at the curious little face.

And sees blue eyes like Soap...and pale skin and blond hair - like Simon.

It doesn't take much to deduce what happened. He had noticed Ghost had also been withdrawn and taking riskier solo missions since he and Soap stopped being each other's shadow suddenly. In fact, he'd been so busy trying to stop Ghost from getting himself killed or killing a recruit who happened to catch him on a bad day - that he'd not realised this probably had something to do with Soap's withdrawal too. Too busy and distracted to put two and two together.

They were both hurting. Soap clearly felt he couldn't take care of the wee one, but wanted it to have a chance. Even if it meant leaving the army.

As he walks he pulls out his phone to make a call. Laswell pulls some strings and files, and before he gets to the hotel the Captain's official records included that of his newborn son: 'John Simon Price'.

Till his boys are ready, he'll keep their little one safe and happy. Grandpa Price will make sure of it.

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [three]

warnings! mild description of a wound (aka blood)

one, two

❥❥❥

…two weeks later

Jason Todd wasn't fond of people.

He enjoyed the silence that accompanied a good book or soft music playing whenever he cleaned his guns or bandaged himself. That being said, when Callum waved excitedly at him, a smile matching the sun itself, he couldn't help but waver. Especially when the boy's mother offered him her own soft smile, guiding her son past him in the hall.

"Hi, Mr. Jason!" Callum cheered, stopping in front of the man, leaning his head at a near ninety-degree angle to look up at him.

"Hi, Callum," he hummed, glancing toward Leia. "Where are you headed off to?" He asked, mildly curious.

Though their conversations in the hall were often brief and without much substance, Jason found himself looking forward to an interaction that didn't leave him with bruises or a bad mood.

"Well," Leia ruffled Callum's hair and the boy giggled, "someone got a 100% on his spelling test so we're going for ice cream."

"Yeah! You wanna come with us?"

That definitely caught him off guard.

"I'm sure he's busy," Leia quickly cut in, sending Jason an apologetic look.

"Sorry, kid, maybe next time."

The kid's frown almost made him want to take it back. Almost.

" 'S okay…" Callum trailed off, bottom lip jutting out as he fiddled with his fingers.

"Let's go get that ice cream, yeah?" She offered, nudging her kid toward the stairs.

"Ice cream!" Callum pumped his fist in the air causing both of the adults to laugh softly. They glanced at each other, but Leia broke eye contact, looking back at her son.

"See you around, Jason." She waved politely before walking after Callum who had rushed down the stairs cheering 'ice cream!' Over and over again.

"Yeah…" He trailed off, tucking his hands in his pockets, watching her go.

Leia didn't look back and he caught himself wishing she would.

Jason pressed his lips together in a thin line, glaring at the ground before scoffing and walking back into his apartment. He tossed his keys on the counter, ruffling his already messy hair and shutting the door with his heel.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice the shadows moving around the dark corners of his living room.

"No quip today?" Tim's voice made him tense up, any peace and quiet he'd found talking to Leia and Callum was gone in an instant.

He did not want to deal with this today.

Jason glared in the direction the voice had come from, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over one of the two old island chairs he'd picked up a while ago.

"What do you want?" He huffed, turning on a few lights, rolling his eyes when it revealed Dick and Tim in normal clothes.

"You've been off your game recently, just wanted to check in." Dick shrugged, sitting in one of the plush chairs.

"'M fine, now get the fuck out," he turned his back on them and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a mug and turning on the coffee pot.

"Really? Or does it have to do with your new neighbors? Leia and Callum?" Tim prodded and Jason clenched his fist, glaring at his brother.

"How do you know about them?" The words slipped out faster than he could stop them.

Dick rose a brow from his seated position, a small smile appearing that matched Tim's teasing grin.

"Detectives remember?" Dick shrugged then held up the note that once accompanied the cookies that Jason couldn't bring himself to throw away.

Jason scowled at him and stormed over, snatching the paper from him, putting it back on the counter where it had sat for the past two weeks with the cookies he'd eaten the night after he got them. He would've rather drank acid than admit they were a close second to Alfred's.

The note had sat on the counter for the past two weeks. He debated throwing it away every night, but every time he tried, the colorful letters and smiley face at the end made him pause.

"Why'd you keep the note?" Tim tilted his head, crossing his arms, genuinely curious. As far as he knew, Jason didn't have many lasting romantic relationships, especially with a civilian.

"Get out. I won't say it again."

Jason poured himself a cup of coffee, placing some creamer and sugar in it before taking a sip. He honestly wasn't the biggest fan of coffee, but it did the job. If he had a choice, he'd have tea, but he didn't have the patience for it, especially now that his brothers had broken into his home and were trying to interrogate him.

Dick watched him carefully and gestured for Tim to leave. The youngest in the room rolled his eyes before shrugging and walking out the front door, waiting for Dick just outside (probably eavesdropping knowing him).

"She seems nice," Dick commented, glancing toward the door like he could see through it and into the apartment across from Jason's. "Cute kid too."

Jason grunted.

Dick sighed and stood. "You comin' on patrol tonight? We've got that drug bust happening." He asked, walking toward the door Tim had left out of.

"Yeah." Came Jason's gruff reply.

With that, Dick left and Jason locked the door, grumbling to himself. He backed away, glancing out the window toward the setting sun.

From here, he caught sight of Leia and Callum walking back toward the complex, both with ice cream and their hands swinging back and forth between each other while Callum jumped over the big cracks in the sidewalk.

Jason's heart tugged a little at the sight and he sighed, shoulders sagging before closing the blinds and continuing with his plans before he went onto patrol.

❥

To say Tim was intrigued was an understatement.

Jason, always gruff and frankly an asshole to the rest of the family, was obviously hiding something about his neighbor.

Tim considered it being a case he was trying to handle solo which was the most probable. However, that didn't make Tim feel much better about her having a kid around, especially if it has to do with drugs or an arms deal.

He also considered the fact that Jason finally found someone he liked especially with how aggressive he was when he snatched the note from Dick. Then again, Jason was always aggressive.

Tim continued thinking (as he always did) even when they got back to the manor, and he hurried off to his room.

He knew he probably should leave it alone, but he figured he should at least do a background check to make sure Jason's neighbor wasn't using the kid.

So, he sat at his computer and got to work.

❥

"Fuck!" Jason cursed loudly as he landed on the fire escape.

"Red Hood, come back to the Batcave and we'll get you checked out," Batman's voice ran through the comm in his ear.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Not necessary." Then he turned it off — or at least he thought he did — not wanting to hear any more of their annoying voices for the night.

He leaned against the brick wall for a moment, trying to gather his wits. It had been a hard night and he'd gotten shot and was a bit delirious from the drug it was laced with. Thankfully, Tim had injected him with the cure so he would be fine, just drowsy for the next day or so.

His vision was blurring, and he cursed again, hobbling over to his windowsill before stumbling in. He noticed immediately that the wood floor of his bedroom looked odd even with his vision going in and out.

Before he could do anything else, he collapsed with a loud

THUD

Leia jumped, a noise from her bedroom startling her awake. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, cursing under her breath as she put her unfinished book on the coffee table.

She stood as quietly as she could, making her way through the hall and grabbing the metal bat she'd gotten when she'd moved to Gotham. She gripped it tight, checking Callum's room and finding him asleep and sighed in relief.

She swallowed thickly, listening closely for any other noise coming from her room but heard none. No movement, no hushed voices, silence. She would've left it alone, but she decided she couldn't risk it and quickly dialed 911.

Stupidly — oh god she felt like such an idiot — as she raised the phone to her ear, she gripped the bat tightly and peeked around the corner into her bedroom.

Shock clawed at her chest, seizing her windpipe.

Red fucking Hood was passed out on her bedroom floor.

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice rang through the speaker.

Leia froze. Red Hood was a vigilante, former crime lord (that's what the news said anyways) and that was putting what he'd done nicely. He put away criminals and had plenty of blood on his hands unlike the other vigilantes of Gotham.

He was dangerous.

But he was also lying on her floor, blood gathering in a small pool beside him. She considered calling for an ambulance, but they would unmask him and that could be dangerous for everyone involved. Her mind was spinning, evaluating her options at a rapid pace.

"Hello? Is everything alright?" The woman asked, sounding worried.

"Yes." Leia made her decision, voice much clearer now. She set the bat next to the door and rushed over to the fallen hero. "I'm so sorry this was an accident." Then quickly hung up and tossed her phone on her bed.

Her mind shut off, panic easing as she eased herself into what she'd practiced near every day for the past few years of her life. She could help him. She was more than capable.

"Hello? Sir?" She prodded his shoulder, jerking away in fear he would attack her. "My name is Leia, I'm a nurse, I'm here to help, okay? I won't take off your helmet, but I need to know if you're awake."

No response though she could pick up what could've been snores, but it was distorted by the mask. She sighed and stood, walking into the bathroom connected to her room and gathered the First Aid kit she kept handy.

Leia tried to be gentle, she really did, but it was hard to move an unconscious man who had three times her muscle mass by herself.

She started with the basics, checking his pulse and breath rate, writing it on her wrist with a pen she kept tucked in her hair to keep track of it while she worked.

She then rolled him over and rolled up his shirt just enough so she could stitch together a nasty wound that looked like it was from a bullet. He flinched and groaned as she worked and she whispered assurances whenever he did, telling him everything she was doing before she did it.

An hour of diligent work later she was done patching up the vigilante. The blue rubber gloves on her hands were a dull crimson and arms ached from the awkward angle they'd been forced into, but it was done.

Leia fell back against her dresser, making sure not to get anything else dirty. She shut her eyes for a moment and looked down at the hero at her feet. Sighing heavily, she patted his shoulder and walked away to throw what was left of her supplies away.

When she came back, he was still unconscious (as far as she could tell) and she crouched next to him, checking his breath and heart rate again, noting that they'd leveled out.

"Hope you don't do this to random civilians," she chuckled to herself then stood, stretching. "I'm sure you're gonna be sore in the morning so I'm gonna get you some pain meds, yeah?"

No response, of course.

Leia laughed to herself, muttering as she left. "What the hell am I doing?"

She rubbed her eyes, yawning, wanting to bang her head against a wall from how tired she was now that the adrenaline had worn off.

The clock on the oven read 5:23am and it made her groan internally knowing she'd get an hour of sleep before having to get Callum ready for school. Thankfully though tomorrow — today, really — was her day off.

Leia eventually came back into the room, humming quietly, her arms full of pillows from her couch, a case of pain medication, and a glass of water.

She lifted the masked man's head enough to fit two pillows under his head and neck to make him a little more comfortable on her hard wood floor.

"Jesus, what is that thing made of?" She grumbled, huffing as she put his head down as gently as she could. "Whiplash must be a bitch."

If she hadn't turned away, she would've seen Red Hood's breath stutter.

"Anyways, water and pain meds are to your left. I'm leaving, please don't steal or break my shit. The window is unlocked so…yeah…" another yawn caught her off guard. "I've got a note next to the water, so you hopefully don't think I kidnapped you or something. Night, Red Hood."

True to her word, there was a small piece of paper next to the water that explained what she did and what she'd monitored. She considered inviting him back just in case he needed a safe place to get patched up, but she shot that thought down quickly remembering the small boy in the room over. God forbid someone found out Leia was taking care of the Red Hood. Callum and herself would immediately become targets.

With that, she got up and left, stumbling over one of Callum's stuffed animals, cursing as she went.

Leia glanced at Red Hood one more time and sighed, yawning. With that, she closed the door and pulled a chair from the dining room table and placed it under the handle. She doubted it would do anything against him if he really wanted to get through, but it gave her a little peace in mind that she'd probably hear him if he was gonna come after her.

Once it was situated, she grabbed the metal bat and walked to Callum's room, locking the door behind her. She gazed down at the small boy, curly hair tousled, arms and legs spread out like a starfish.

As quietly and as gently as she could, she lifted the boy and put him back underneath his covers before sliding in beside him, making sure she was closest to the door.

Callum's eyes fluttered open and he yawned.

"Mama?"

"Hey, baby, it's okay, go back to sleep," she cooed, pulling him to rest on her shoulder.

"What's…wrong?" He asked slowly, quickly falling back to sleep in his mother's arms.

"I…had a nightmare…" she trailed off.

Callum hummed and hugged her arm.

" 'S okay, Mama. Like you tell me, it was…just a dream…"

And just like that, he was asleep again and Leia followed quickly after.

❥

Dick — Nightwing at the moment — realized he'd been too late as he watched a woman begin to patch up Red Hood, her muffled voice echoing through his earpiece seeing as Red Hood hadn't turned it off before he passed out.

He'd been sent by Batman to check on him despite Jason's obvious attempts at handling things himself. Jason must've been in bad shape if he stumbled into that poor woman's bedroom, Nightwing couldn't imagine what was going through her head.

He was going to step in as soon as he heard she was calling 911, but he saw her drop to her knees, a determined look coming across her face, and he paused. He watched as she carelessly tossed her phone to the side and spoke to the Red Hood, one of Gotham's most terrifying protectors, in a soft, gentle voice.

"Nightwing!" Batman's shout startled him.

He winced. "Everything's fine," he assured everyone listening. "Red Hood is safe as far as I can tell."

"With some random woman?" Robin — Damian — demanded.

"I doubt she's a random woman," he responded, the pieces clicking together as he noticed that Jason's window stood unbothered a little further from this woman's — Leia if he could take a guess.

"What does that mean?" Red Robin scoffed.

"Do you know her?" Batman ignored Robin's comment.

"Red Hood seems to, he's conscious." Nightwing responded, amused, taking a seat on the building's edge to get a better look at the situation.

Even from this distance, he could tell Jason was at least slightly conscious judging by the way his hand twitched. Nightwing was honestly surprised Jason was allowing the woman to patch him up since he rarely let Alfred help him. 

Silence filled the comm on their end as she introduced herself, proving his theory correct and talked through what she was doing, adding random comments or small stories as she worked. He listened, chuckling every now and again. She obviously knew what she was doing, her hands moving expertly despite how tired she probably was. Her voice was calming, soothing almost. For a moment, Nightwing feared it was some kind of spell. 

"Nightwing, I want you to stay there until this woman is gone and you get him out of there, understood?" Bruce’s voice came over the comms without the voice modulator.

"Loud and clear," he replied.

And just like that, everyone was silent, listening to Leia seemingly talk to herself as she worked on her 'patient'.

Nightwing chuckled softly as she finished up, finally making his way over to their building, landing without a sound on the fire escape and ducking inside. 

“That was nice of her.” Nightwing noted, glancing around the room. It was decent sized, paint peeling in some places, but overall, pretty nice for this part of town. A bed tucked in the far corner with plenty of pillows. A few pictures decorated the space. Most were of Leia and a small boy he assumed to be her son, but there was another on her dresser of Leia, her son, and another woman. A few drawings, obviously made by her son, were scattered around the space as well. It was cute.

Red Hood grunted, sitting up slowly. With his helmet on, Nightwing couldn’t tell what his expression was, but he had no doubt he was scowling at him. “Why are you here?”

“Just wanted to make sure you got back to your place." Nightwing shrugged, offering his hand.

Red Hood glanced at it then sighed, taking it and letting Nightwing heave him to his feet seeing as he’d lost a little too much blood and was exhausted after almost two weeks straight of patrols with no real break.

“I can make it back to my place alone, okay? Don’t make me a charity case,” Jason grumbled.

“Sure." Nightwing shrugged, ducking out the window looking for anyone that may see Red Hood and Nightwing leaving the apartment.

Meanwhile, Jason glanced around Leia's space. If he had to choose a word to describe it, it would be cozy. And that fit her perfectly, he decided.

The drawings on the walls made him smile under the helmet. His attention turned to the note on the floor, and he picked it up slowly, careful not to undo Leia's hard work.

He could still feel the ghost of her soft hands and gentle words.

He didn't know why he did it, but he tucked the note in his pocket then moved the water and pills to her dresser so she wouldn't knock them over.

He thought about leaving his own note, maybe he would've if Nightwing wasn't waiting on the fire escape for him.

"You coming?"

"Shut up."

Dick just laughed, the sound ringing in the alleyway.

Jason ducked out of the window, barely dodging begonia on the windowsill. How he missed that coming in baffled him.

"See ya, Hood."

Jason merely grunted then headed toward his own apartment.

❥❥❥

four

[diagonal-queen]

HI HIIII

just poppin in with a little request?

Could i please request chuuya with a reader who’s in the ada?

Like maybe they were in the mafia with chuuya(having been there abt as long as dazai) and then they get closer to him than dazai? But they also leave the pm when dazai does (for the same reasom dazai does?)

Maybe they try to keep contact with him after they leave? And they finallY meet again after a while?

And maybe reader has the same personality as the reader from your first kiss fic?

Idk if this is too specific but please ignore any of my details and write what feels right to you if you accept this request?

I hope this isnt too much to ask? And thank youuuuu

(Also sorry I fell asleep{exams hv me ass beatt} loved your analyses on dm!)

-jaya

jayaaaaaaaa this is a great req! i've already sort of come up with such a scenario in my head i just haven't had a reason to write it UNTIL NOWWWWWWWWWW also my gosh, i can imagine how tired you are. make sure to get plenty of rest and take care of yourself hon! 🌺 (i appreciate you sending karl to gimmie some toilet papers (all raccoons are karl now))

Calmer Waters

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: You secretly meet up with your ex-colleague Chuuya after a long period of not having seen him after leaving the Port Mafia. You two have a lot (of feelings) to talk about!

♡ wc: 2.3k

♡ cw: Swearing, mentions of death and spooooky mafia stuff, for this fic we're assuming that reader was also kinda friends with Odasaku, mentions of Mori Ougai, lmk if I missed anything

note: Don't worry about being too specific, I actually prefer when reqs are more specific so I have an easier time catering to the reader's preferences and writing a better piece lol 💓 Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy!

Standing still was pure torture. You had to release your nerves somehow, but you didn't want to appear weak by twiddling your thumbs, or tapping your feet on the wooden planks of the pier. You were frightened, ashamedly so, but still very much frightened.

You couldn't imagine how he must truly feel about you now. You couldn't blame him at all- if he'd disappeared just as suddenly as you and Dazai had all those years ago, you'd be pretty pissed. You and him had been in very unstable contact for the past four years, but you didn't think you could trust that as an actual indicator of his feelings towards you. Such was the reason you had invited him to the place you both used to frequent together.

Chuuya was once your best friend. At the time you'd had good faith that even though you were leaving him, he wasn't really alone. There were others who cared for him there. You didn't have a choice but to leave. Whenever you felt otherwise, you remembered the look in Dazai's eyes when he told you that it was time to go. Unlike any other.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't notice him approaching.

"Hey," he said from behind you, and you jumped.

"Oh, my god." You breathed, your hand racing to your chest as you turned. It was unmistakably him- the fiery hair, old fedora, black coat draped over his shoulders making him appear fierce and grandiose. Chuuya Nakahara. "You scared me."

"I'm not that frightening," Chuuya gave you an ironic smile. You missed that face of his. That comforting aura. "At least, I didn't think I was to you."

"No- it's..." you suddenly felt like you might cry. You hadn't actually seen Chuuya in person for four long years, only scarcely communicating with him through far too complicated means, ranging from anonymous phone calls to actual paper letters. It was too difficult to directly talk to him when not only were you now in a company that directly opposed his organisation, but you were also almost always by Dazai's side.

You both stood under the moonlight, Chuuya several metres back on the pier and enveloped in shadows. The only sound was the ocean, and even that felt more muted than normal. You huffed, before racing towards him and throwing yourself into his arms.

"I missed you," you said to him, squeezing him as hard as you could. "I missed you, Chuuya."

You hadn't been expecting him to squeeze you back with such firmness that he almost lifted you off the ground.

"Damnit, Y/N. I missed you, too."

You two didn't let go of each other, allowing your fingernails to sink into one another's backs and bury your faces in each other's necks. Chuuya's aroma, musk and cologne and smoke, acted as respite from the salty scent of the sea.

"I don't..." you began, in a whisper. "Don't wanna let go."

"I know, but..." he answered just as softly, before slowly pulling from the embrace. He still kept your hands in his though, clearly feeling the same way you did. You were worried that he'd vanish if you were to let go of him again. "There we are."

"You look great, Chuuya," you told him, giving him a once over. "Still got that hat, I see."

"You don't look too similar at all, yourself. But...you feel the same."

"Does that balance it out?" You grinned, and he nodded. "Good...yeah. I'm glad to see you."

"Yeah, me too." Chuuya told you. "I was pretty fuckin' surprised when I saw your offer, y'know. I wondered why whatever you wanted to say was important enough to warrant an in-person meeting."

"I was equally as surprised just now when you showed up!" You replied, leading him to the edge of the pier and taking a seat, allowing your legs to dangle over the almost-statuesque ocean. "I thought that you either wouldn't come or you'd send someone else in your place. Y'know, to kill me, or something."

"...yeah." Chuuya paused for a minute, almost surprised by such a statement. You glanced at him, concerned, but quickly resumed your conversation.

"I know...there's things you wanna ask me that I wasn't able to tell you sooner. And I made sure Dazai doesn't know I'm here, either. So I'm all yours to talk to, so long as you keep it between us, and-"

"Why did you two go?" He asked, for what must have been the hundredth time. Though, it sounded rather different now that it was coming directly from his lips. "That's all I've been wanting to know. Why did you leave? ...I won't tell anyone else." You were fully prepared to answer, but now that the time had come, finding the words was much harder.

"...I knew you'd ask this," you chuckled, averting his gaze. "Ah, okay. So, do you know Oda Sakunosuke? Or...did you know him?"

"Heard about him from Dazai. Why?"

"When he died...his last wish was for us to...uh, help people..." you explained, a little nervously. "Save some orphans, he said. According to Dazai, anyway. That's how we got A- the weretiger."

Chuuya said nothing for a minute. You swallowed nervously, your mouth feeling dry.

"I thought at the time that there wasn't much worse than disrespecting the last wish of your friend who died. I knew how much he meant to Dazai especially-" you cut yourself off with a solemn sigh. "I thought if Dazai was going I didn't have a choice but to go with him. When I joined the Port Mafia, he was the only person my age, or...who was really willing to take me under their wing. Besides Mori, obviously, but I don't have Dazai's intellect, or...great personality."

To your fortune, you managed to make Chuuya smile with the sarcastic comment. You felt a little better knowing that he hadn't changed that much.

"I'm glad it's not because you really just hated me," he said, his voice softer. You faced him with a confused frown.

"What? No! I've never hated you. Do you hate me?"

"I hate Dazai, not you."

"So some things don't change..." you murmured, jokingly. "If you were curious, he also still hates you."

"Boohoo," he rolled his eyes. "...but that's what I was really worried about. I thought you left because of me. I thought that bastard must've told you some twisted things about me and convinced you to leave."

"Nah, nothing like that," you waved a dismissive hand. "If that were the case I wouldn't have wanted to see you, would I?"

Chuuya pursed his lips. "Fair point. Speaking of, though...why did you call me here? I mean, I know you wanted to tell me why you left, but that can't have been it. I can tell."

How annoying it was of Chuuya to have been so attentive towards you back then- he maybe knew you better than you knew yourself. Maybe if you'd kept your distance from him, leaving the Port Mafia would have been easier.

"...this is gonna sound stupid to you," you began, cautiously, "but I really wanted to see you. That's all."

"Is that right?" replied the redhead. "Why'd you wait so long, then?"

"Lots of reasons, actually. First, I just assumed that you absolutely wouldn't wanna see me. I mean, I did sorta just...disappear without a word. I felt terrible about it and I knew it would have upset you."

"It did," he affirmed, quietly. You felt a pang of familiar guilt. Chuuya was, to you, a kind man, but he was also honest. You really did appreciate that trait, but it had its cons, too.

"...second of all, I didn't wanna put the two of us in danger, y'know? We both know how formidable the Port Mafia is. There's only two ways of knowing, and that's either to be a member or to be an enemy. And I've been both."

"You know, though, that I'd have been able to keep you safe, right?" He asked. "That moron Dazai would have been willing to keep you safe too, I reckon. I know that he also cares about you."

"I guess, but I was just scared. It was hard, back then. I was confused about everything. I had to sort through my feelings, and I knew that I couldn't do it if I saw you."

"If you felt that bad, you shouldn't have left. I get that Dazai wanted you to, and your dead friend wanted it too, but it's not up to them what you do, Y/N," he said. You almost flinched, but resisted the urge.

"...I know, yeah. At the time it felt like the right thing to do. But those aren't the feelings I was referring to. That's an entire other can of worms I don't feel like opening again right now." You rubbed your face, already rather emotionally exhausted. That being said, this exchange had gone much better than you'd anticipated.

"What feelings, then? Grief, or somethin'?"

"No- well, yeah, but not necessarily. I was just really sad because I liked you a lot, and I was hesitant about leaving 'cause I wanted to stay with you." You thought you'd be nervous telling him that, but it was really a relief to get such a heavy weight off your shoulders. You glanced at him, but his expression hadn't really changed.

"You didn't want to leave...because you liked me?"

"I've always liked you, dumbass. Like, pretty soon after we met. You and Dazai were too busy fucking with each other for you to notice, though," you chuckled. "Once I knew I was leaving I figured that telling you wouldn't do any good."

"No, I knew. I was mostly just pissed because you vanished before I could tell you that I wanted to date you," he told you, casually. Your eyes widened. "Plus, I kinda just thought that you liked Dazai if the two of you disappeared together."

"You're kidding me," you looked at him, dumbstruck. Chuuya shrugged with a despondent smile.

"I wish," he scoffed. "I was pissed. Thought it wasn't fair of him to basically take you away like that, because I knew he knew I liked you. Like I said, I thought he lied about me."

"He did say to avoid you where I could, but I think that was just because you're a mafioso. And a pretty strong one, at that," you noted, matter-of-factly. "And I don't have a strong ability like yours or his. So I got that, obviously. But other than that...nothing, really."

"Huh. That's...pleasantly surprising," he nodded slowly, in acknowledgement of this revelation. "So your leaving had...nothing to do with me at all?"

"Nope."

"...huh," he said again, this time with a smile. "...that's really..."

"I'm sorry for making you think that for so long," you apologised, clasping your hands together in your lap. "I didn't want to hurt you. I would...I would cry right now, but I can't cry anymore about this, I don't think."

"...I understand." Chuuya shifted closer to you, taking one of your hands. "And I forgive you. You forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what?"

"For not..." Chuuya stopped, then turned towards the moonlit sea. "...not trusting you."

You could practically sense Chuuya's slight slouch next to you. It felt so strange. He used to slouch a lot of the time when you two were kids, so much so that it barely even felt like he was sitting. You hadn't really noticed how much better his posture had gotten until that moment. Feeling a little awkward for noticing such a trivial detail, you sadly brushed off the thought.

"...Chuuya," you muttered, reaching over and tucking some of his red hair behind his ear. Such a gesture provoked a lot of nostalgia right then, momentarily surprising you. His hair was still so soft. You took a shaky breath. "That wasn't wrong of you to do. I wouldn't have trusted me either, even if I did like me. I'd have hated me, honestly."

Chuuya faced you with a firm expression. "I wouldn't hate you, ever. I like you, remember? Actually, forget that crap. I love you, stupid. If I didn't, then I wouldn't have come here and talked to you. Y'know, for a former mafia member, you're so dense."

"You're the dense one for thinking that I'd actually leave the mafia because of you," you retorted, though your heart was beating a mile a minute. Though you and Chuuya had a well-established close bond back then, he had never outright told you that he loved you. You sighed. "...I love you too, you idiot."

Chuuya didn't reply to that immediately, he just beamed at you. Looking at him in that moment felt like a reset in your brain- as well as your confession moments prior. You'd tried so hard to forget about him for four years, you really had. But Chuuya Nakahara was beyond compare, and even though all of that effort had been for naught you couldn't care less.

He leaned over and planted a kiss on your cheek; chaste and shy, unlike himself. You turned to him, feeling your face heating up. He stared at you in anticipation, before faltering under your astonished eyes.

"Sorry, it-...it just felt like the right time. To do that, I mean," he explained in a crestfallen mumble, averting his gaze.

"Well, I mean, if it's the right time.." you began, piquing his interest again. "...we should do it properly." After hearing that invitation, Chuuya wasted no time cupping your cheek in his hand and finally pressing his lips to yours.

i gotta love how chuuya is certainly the most requested character i write about lol but i get it- he really is just...the man ever. and he's actually really easy to write tbh because all i need to do is make him The Best™ and i'm set. thank you @gettinshiggywithit for this request- i enjoyed writing it alot!!

[sigyn-foxyposts]

(Personal) Ivaldi headcannons:

Ivaldi is like you would expect quite the handyman, who truly has a skill when it comes to being crafty with your hands.

He is a very well known smith in Svartalfheim and gained a lots of riches from his excellent and honest work.

He started off doing flavours for others and repairing things in his early days!

Because unlike most dwarfs, Ivaldi isn't greedy, he was genuinely friendly and even helpful.

Though he does have that infamous temper if something were to go wrong in his workshop!

Most dwarfs repreduce naturally, asexually or through magical means and while Ivaldi has done all of these, he had always wished for a permanent partner to stay by his side.

He would have his two sons through asexual reproduction! Later carrying on their fathers legacy by becoming just as skilled as him in smithing.

Then he'd create Idunn using these magical items: Elven blood, Ashwood and gold. He really wanted a daughter!

You could almost call him a hopeless romantic at times because he has found himself falling for both men and women.

But dating other dwarfs was never easy for him because he'd often get used for his kindness and or wealth.

When he met Freyja though, wandering through his realm one day things finally started looking brighter for him!

They had a shared love for pretty things, taking pride in their magical skills and feeling like they were serving a purpose and it formed into a genuine connection.

Eventually leading to them having three daughters named Sigyn, Sjofn and Lofn.

Ivaldi always admired Freyja for her abilities in caring for their daughters, even Idunn who she had taken under her wing while she stayed underground.

But things took a sudden downfall when Freyja left without a trace, leaving Ivaldi heart broken and a struggling father.

He understood that maybe their love wasn't meant to last, he is respectful for that! But wishes she would have at least said something before she disappeared.

Ever since Ivaldi struggled sleeping peacefully and developed Insomnia.

Ivaldi often found himself asking Idunn to aid him in his fatherly duties.

Which he felt guilty about, knowing Idunn deserved better than to be some caretaker for their family!

A family he was obligated to take care of in the first place.

To him his daughters were just as valuable as the shimmering gold.

Which is why he spent his remaining free time as his daughters grew, sending out messangers who were willing to get back in contact with Freyja.

In every letter he begged her endlessly for her to take Idunn and their daughters into Asgard and give them a better life.

Something he knew he wasn't able to fully provide for them.

Once Freyja actually took action and collected Ivaldi's daughters, he decided to focus his attention on his sons.

Teaching them everything he knew, so they could make a living and possibly continue his legacy through their work.

Which is why his sons took over for him, making him somewhat retired today!

He still keeps in contact with his daughters and will provide anything they need if they so ask!

He is also updated frequently about their lives and every letter he gets from them, he keeps somewhere safe!

Ivaldi unlike Freyja isn't too picky or pushy about who their daughters will marry either.

He is very laid back In that department and only wants them to be happy.

He has often made Freyja change her mind multiple times too, putting their daughters feelings first!

He also really likes his sons in law: Loki and Bragi. Because personally to him they're the most entertaining gods.

Ivaldi also loves to brag about all of his children and their achievements to the other dwarfs in Svartalfheim.

[sspextkr]

🌙all apologies- snowjanus week day 4

🌙day 4: marriage

In which Sejanus is haunted by his past– The very past created by the man he married. One second, he was on top of a stage, giving his final bow as a recording of his own voice rang out over the crowd before the floor gave out beneath him, closing the curtain on his life. But someone demanded an encore. A man by the name of Coriolanus Snow.

🌙trigger warnings: death, hanging, toxic relationships, Coriolanus being Coriolanus™️

🌙a/n: i KNOW i said i'd write fluff buuuut. i can't write them happy sorry.

It takes guts to marry the man that nearly killed you, Sejanus knew that much. Sometimes, if he looked hard enough, he could still see the malice in Coriolanus' eyes that gave him the scar around his throat. The scar that would forever serve as a symbol of why he shouldn't step out of line.

One second, he was on top of a stage, giving his final bow as a recording of his own voice rang out over the crowd before the floor gave out beneath him, closing the curtain on his life.

But someone demanded an encore. A man by the name of Coriolanus Snow. The curtains drew back to reveal a panicked Coriolanus leaning over him, tears leaking from his ice blue eyes as he shook the brunet awake.

"Sej," he sobbed. "Sej.. I'm so sorry. Please breathe, I'm so sorry.."

And Sejanus obeyed as he always did, sucking in a deep breath. He sat up and pulled the blond into a hug without another thought, watching the way his body trembled. "How.. How long was I out?"

"A week or so.." Coriolanus mumbled into his shoulder, not daring to pull away. "The– The knot on the.. the.. They tied it wrong or something.. I don't know what it was but I'm so fucking happy you're alive right now.. They managed to bring you back."

".. Who cut me down?"

"I did. I.. I said I wanted to get you down as soon as possible and send your body back to your parents.. Brought you to the medic instead. Gave them every cent I had to keep them quiet."

So that explains the medic's tent, Sejanus thought.

It wasn't until after Coriolanus had fallen asleep (beside him. He refused to leave) that he had pondered why he was executed. He heard the recording before it all happened, yet he refused to believe it.

The very man who tried to kill him was now sleeping on his chest.

Sejanus stored that realization away, instead focusing on how there was oxygen and life back in his lungs once more. He'd caved later that week and asked his father to buy him a discharge, while Coriolanus was sent off to District 2 for a few years to train peacekeepers.

Of course he thought about following him. But he knew better than to do so.

The two stayed in contact, of course, trading letters and packages over the course of three years. They'd only seen each other maybe a handful of times.

As the scar around his throat faded, so did the memory of Coriolanus. He no longer held that boyish infatuation he once did. He'd found a nice girl named Ophelia and planned to settle down with her.

Until Coriolanus put himself back into the narrative. It wasn't until after five years of their marriage, Sejanus found out he only decided to return after hearing of their engagement.

"Even a thousand miles away, I still thought of you as mine."

What a sweet, twisted sentiment.

So, they courted. They flirted, kissed without getting caught. They married. Coriolanus demanded that Sejanus take the last name Snow, carry on his legacy. They settled on him going with the last name Plinth-Snow.

Coriolanus refused to do the same. He was Capitol through and through.

Sometimes, it hardly felt like it was worth it, but he'd never speak up. He fought hard for Coriolanus' attention and affection, something he could've only dreamed about having a decade ago.

...

It wasn't easy waking up from a nightmare and having the very man who starred in it comfort him. He still dreamed of his execution often– Of the betrayal and everything that went wrong. Of his reckless behavior and just how selfish he was.

Sejanus would wake up in a cold sweat, tears in his eyes. Coriolanus was naturally a light sleeper, and would wake at even the slightest sign of discomfort or movement. He'd hold the brunet tightly, stroking his hair and whispering comforting words.

"Breathe with me, dove. Breathe.."

"Shh.. Dry your eyes.."

"You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Why can't I believe you?

He'd keep his face hidden in Coriolanus' chest regardless, allowing temptation to blind his morals. For now, Sejanus thought, he could find comfort in his arms. For now only.

taglist: @on-plvto @theirgayyourhonour

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total$hit$how: Barricade

in which Jericho does what he can

cw: electrocution, fear of death, adult language

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×~×~×

“Go! Go! Go!”

Everything devolved into chaos as soon as the realization hit, that maybe it wasn't just training and maybe Vic was willing to blow them to bits if they failed.

Jericho didn't want to believe it. Why go to the trouble of recruiting and training them if only to let them die now? But even if it wasn't super plausible, he wasn't taking chances. He sprinted to the obstacle course with the rest; concrete cubes towering over them like giant building blocks. 

Okay, so the alleged ‘bomb’ was somewhere in there. He couldn't see an obvious opening, which meant they'd probably have to start by climbing up the cubes, the bottom tier of which looked to be eight... maybe nine feet high. Easy enough for Jericho to reach, but the others might have trouble.

“Joy!” He dropped to a knee beside the closest cube. “Need a boost?”

“Thanks, Jer!” 

He suppressed a wince as she vaulted off his thigh, catching the concrete edge and hauling herself up.

“Benji?”

The other man was a little more gentle than Joy had been, but it seemed more due to nerves than care. Joy helped yank him up once he found stable footing on Jericho’s leg.

“Harbor?” he said as he watched Benji disappear over the edge, but when he glanced back, he saw the lanky man was already gone. Not that surprising. Harbor seemed like he'd rather do his own thing, and that was usually fine. Some people just weren't social, and Jericho could respect that, but right now seemed like a good time for a united effort. To… probably not die and all that jazz.

Speaking of not dying, he hoped Sahota was okay, whatever mission he was on. Their trainer could be a little harsh at times, and Jericho didn't like some of his more brutal methods, but he didn't seem all bad. Once he'd learned there was no way to get in contact with Marla and Ari and his mom, he'd begged Sahota to at least let him send a letter.

“I have a kid. I don't want her or her mom thinking something bad happened to me. Just one letter. You can even read it first. I swear I'm not spilling any secrets.”

“The risk is too high.”

“Please, man. My mom’s gonna be worried sick.”

Jericho hadn't thought it was possible for stone to soften, but the hard edges in Sahota's expression had somehow lessened at that.

“I'll… see what I can do.”

That was the moment that Jericho decided maybe Sahota wasn't as scary and soulless as he looked. Maybe they could learn to get along after all.

Kaius darted towards where Jericho had knelt, taking the offered boost without a word or a smile. Which was okay. Nobody owed him friendship, and at least Kaius was mostly willing to be a team player. Once the smaller man had made it, Jericho climbed up himself, taking Joy's offered hand even though he wouldn't have had much of an issue on his own.

“Where would we be without you?” Benji said, offering a nervous smile.

“On the ground,” Kaius replied. “Now let's go. We have a bomb to find.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Benji muttered.

“Anyone see where Harbor got off to?”

“I'd say we have a bigger problem. One we can solve without Harbor.” Kaius moved to the next tier, this one a few feet shorter. “We should climb higher. Get the best vantage point and see if we can find the device visually.”

“On and up then,” Jericho said, trying to keep his tone optimistic. From what he could tell, the maze of cubes was huge and asymmetrical, but not so big that they couldn't find the thing in an hour.

…right?

They began the slow climb upwards, tier by tier, rounding corners and peeking past ledges and finding nothing.

“You know, I'm starting to think it's better if we don't find the bomb,” Benji panted as they climbed the final tier. “This is all concrete, right? If there are real explosives, we'll be safer the further away we are.”

“And fail the test?” Joy said. “That's how we'll end up back in training limbo. Or jail.”

Jericho pulled himself up and ran to the edge. How long had it already been? Not more than ten, fifteen minutes, right? This was the highest point. They should be able to scan the maze and find the target, like Kaius said.

Only when he reached the ledge, he saw nothing, just empty concrete on all sides. Like a giant, uneven layer cake.

“Shit,” Benji muttered. “Shit, where'd it go? Was this a prank? Is Vic pranking us?”

And where was Harbor? From up here, Jericho should've been able to see him. Unless he'd just left, but he wouldn't do that, would he?

“Maybe it's not here at all? Maybe it went somewhere else in the room and the blocks were a red herring,” Joy offered, but Kaius shook his head. 

“I don't see it, and its trajectory suggested this area.” He narrowed his eyes. “I think… the structure may be hollow. We may need to find a way inside.”

Jericho hadn't seen anything on the climb up, but maybe it was on the other side? Or maybe it was concealed? Shoot, would they have enough time to find it?

“Everyone split up. Shout for the others if you find an entryway.”

Ah. Yeah, that was definitely a better angle. They didn't have to stick together through the entire trial.

Jericho slipped off the edge, checking the next tier down. He didn't know what he was looking for, but it had to be somewhat obvious, right? He knocked on the side of the concrete, tapped his foot on the ground, and scanned for seams, but nothing really stood out.

“Yo guys! Over here!” Joy's voice came from the second tier, the exact opposite side from the one they'd climbed up initially.

When he made it to her, he saw what must've been the most obvious door in the world. Plain wooden brown, only missing a doorknob. From the ground, they would've seen it immediately.

“I guess the learning point here is ‘look around the exterior before going in’ ?” Joy said, giving it a test push. It swung inwards. Benji let out a heavy sigh at that.

“Why am I even here.”

Jericho gave him a consoling pat on the back on his way inside. The interior looked like a branching corridor, poorly lit, but at least he could sorta see.

“Looks clear,” he said. “Should we just… run inside?”

“We should at least start moving. We've burned through half our time limit,” Kaius muttered, moving in to join him. Jericho shot him a questioning look, and the smaller man held up his wrist.

“I suppose no one else wears watches anymore.” He moved to the first fork, peering down each path. “I don't know how much of a labyrinth this will be. If we split up, we'll cover the most ground.”

“No way,” Benji said. “I'm not going in there alone, not when there's murderbots on the loose.”

“Taserbots,” Joy corrected him. “But I agree. If it's a maze, it'll be hard to regroup.”

“It will also be hard to find our target if we’re moving as a large team,” Kaius insisted. “If you're so afraid, you take Ruebin. Davis and I will take the other corridors—”

“Ah, I think I'm on Joy's side here,” Jericho said. What if only one of them found the bomb and all of their skills were needed? What if someone ran into the drones and got hurt because they had no backup?

Something twisted in his stomach when he realized that may well have happened to Harbor. Shoot… they needed to get moving. Not just for the bomb, but for their reluctant teammate.

“And if the bomb is real, I'm sure you'll all be happy to die together when we don't find it.”

“Oh don't be so fucking stubborn—”

“Maybe we should just leave?”

“And then Vic will excuse us from the mission and all of you will go to prison. Is that what you want, Ruebin?”

“I'm sorry not all of us have rich parents to bail us out—”

“You don't know a thing about my parents—”

“Guys,” Jericho cut in, and in the split second of silence when the two turned their glares to him, he heard it. A faint hum, coming from—

“Shit!”

“Taserbot!”

Jericho dropped to a crouch just in time for one of the drones to go whirring past his head. He realized too late that it was making a beeline for Kaius, and the smaller man didn't react quick enough to avoid its deploying weapon; a thin metal line that extended from the body like the tongue of an anteater. As soon as it reached Kaius, latching onto his neck, he went rigid, his eyes wide.

Jericho’s first instinct was to punch it away, and it mostly worked, his knuckles smarting something terrible as the drone rocked to the side and Kaius collapsed. He lunged forward, scooping up the smaller man.

“Okay, run time.”

He took off down the left corridor, Joy and Benji close behind.

“What the fuck—?”

“Cattle prod, my ass.”

The hall twisted and turned every few feet, now and then branching off into more paths that Jericho chose at random.

“Is it… did it follow us?” he asked when they'd at last come to a stop.

“I don't think so,” Joy muttered, leaning on the wall. “Shit, those things pack a punch.”

“What now?”

Jericho didn't know. He wasn't even entirely sure he'd be able to retrace his steps back to the start of the maze.

“You can put me down now,” mumbled the man in his arms, and Jericho lowered him.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes,” Kaius said, though he seemed unsteady, keeping one hand firmly on the wall.

“Did it hurt?” Benji asked.

“Yes,” Kaius said again, the word much sharper this time.

“We'll worry about the bots later,” Joy said. “Maybe we should split up. Not all the way, just… teams of two.”

“Fine by me,” Kaius said, glancing up at Jericho. “Davis? With me.”

Jericho smiled. It was probably the closest he'd get to a thank you. 

“Guess we'll play Marco Polo if we find it first,” Benji said, giving a half-hearted wave before following Joy into the corridor. 

Well. He and Kaius could retrace their steps, maybe check out some of the halls he'd ran past? This place couldn't be that huge, and they should have plenty of—

“Twenty five minutes,” Kaius said. “We need to move.”

Shoot.

The two of them jogged back through the corridor. Jericho was careful to match Kaius's speed; the smaller man still seemed a little shaky, even if he didn't seem willing to admit it.

“Do you have a plan to find it?”

“No,” Kaius answered after a moment. “I'm not wholly convinced it isn't an impossible task.”

They turned into another corridor, this one seeming to go deeper into the structure, its floor angled downwards.

“Why would Vic give us an impossible task?”

“Either to see how we handle failure…” Kaius began, looking between another two paths, one that evened out and one that continued the decline. He chose the descending hall. “...Or the bomb is real, and this is the quickest way to eliminate all of us at once.”

Sheesh. “Seems a little extreme.”

“People will go to extremes to protect their secrets.”

Well. That didn't exactly give him a warm fuzzy.

Kaius let out an irritated sigh as they came to yet another fork in the path. “We should keep going deeper. If I were Vic, I'd put the target as far from the entrance as possible, in order to—”

“Wait.” Jericho squinted down the level corridor. There was something on the ground, its shape irregular, like a spilled laundry basket, or…

“Shoot. Harbor.”

“What?”

Jericho didn't take time to answer, taking off towards the figure on the ground. He must've run into the drones, and without anyone to fend them off or drag him away… shoot. He dropped to a knee beside the lanky man, pressing two fingers into the skin of his wrist and letting out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse.

“Hey,” he said, giving his shoulders a shake. Harbor groaned in response, but didn't open his eyes. He looked younger like this, and Jericho found himself wondering, not for the first time, how old he really was. 

“Is he dead?” Kaius said from over his shoulder, not sounding like he cared what the answer was. Then again, he usually sounded pretty monotone, so Jericho didn't hold it against him.

“He should be okay.” Jericho shook Harbor by the shoulders again, and this time, his eyes fluttered open, though they were half-lidded and unfocused.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuckin… robots.”

“Can you sit up?” Jericho said, wincing when Harbor practically threw himself onto his feet, falling against the wall with enough force he might've dented it if it wasn't concrete.

“Not my fault,” he said, starting to trudge away from the other two. “I couldn't see them. Trying to find the fucking bomb, so I couldn't see 'em coming. They don't… they don't have the color like humans do.”

Jericho wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about. “Uh… color?”

Harbor glanced backwards at him, still looking like he was about to pass out again. “Neutrals. People have them.” He jutted his chin out at Jericho like he was gesturing. “You're purple.”

“Implant effects?” Kaius said.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jericho jogged after him. “Hey. You said you're trying to find the bomb. Are you… using the implant?”

“No, I'm fucking using elocation.”

Jericho knit his eyebrows together. “Echolocation?”

“Whatever.”

Kaius hadn't moved, and was standing in the center of the path, his arms crossed. “This is a waste of time.”

“Then get lost,” Harbor said. “I can find it on my own.”

“Well… we're supposed to be working as a team,” Jericho said. Harbor didn't turn around, and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Harbor,” he tried again. “We need your help.”

The lanky man didn't say anything, but he did stop walking. 

“This place is a maze,” Jericho continued. “I have no idea where to find this thing. But you might. You might be the only one who can find it in the next…”

“Fifteen minutes,” said Kaius.

“Fifteen minutes,” Jericho repeated. “We can't do this without you.”

Harbor was quiet for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Fine, I guess.” He pushed himself up from the wall, his stride quicker than it had been as he took off down the hall. After a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Kaius was coming too, Jericho followed.

Harbor took turns seemingly at random, sometimes pausing at a fork and squinting down each corridor before choosing one. Trusting in whatever artificial clairvoyance Harbor had felt a little weird, but what else did they have to go off of?

“There.” Harbor at last came to a stop, leaning on the wall. His hand was clutched to his temple, a wince in his expression. 

“You okay?”

“Head hurts.”

“From the implant?”

“We don't have time,” Kaius said. “Seven minutes.”

Jericho nodded, pressing his lips together. As much as he hated to ask, this could still be a do or die moment.

“Harbor… can you—?”

“Yeah. Fucking sure. Let me see what I can see.”

They rounded the corner, and there it was, sitting at just over six minutes, true to Kaius's count.

“Okay. Shoot.” Jericho glanced over his shoulder, then back at all the screens and knobs, most of which didn't even look like they were connected to anything. “Either of you ever do something like this?”

“You're the hacker, aren't you?”

“I'm not a bomber. Pretty sure there's a difference.” Still, he moved closer to the device, cautiously tapping on each screen to see if they'd at least light up. And… nothing happened.

“Harbor?” Kaius said, but the other man shook his head.

“S’too many things. I don't know.”

Jericho let out a small puff of air, braced himself, and carefully picked it up. The timer didn't stop, but it also didn't just blow up in his hands, so he'd consider it a win. Now what? Should he pry it apart and get a look at the inside? What would that do to it?

“I'm really not sure—”

“Drone!” Kaius said, and Jericho looked up just in time to see the metal sphere hurtling towards him. He tucked the bomb under one arm and dealt an uppercut to the bot, sucking in air through his teeth at the sting in his knuckles. The drone wobbled in the air, but didn't fall. Jericho moved to put himself between it and his teammates. They'd both been shocked already, they didn't need—

“Davis, watch out!”

He dodged, but not quick enough, and its thin metal tongue caught him in the upper arm, spewing electricity into him like poison. Every muscle tensed so tightly it hurt, pain arcing across his vision like bright spiderwebs until he at last collapsed, falling out of the weapon’s reach.

Jericho groaned, trying to bring himself back to awareness past the buzzing in his ears. The drone was still here, the bomb was still here, everyone was still in danger. He needed to get up, but his body was slow to obey.

“Five minutes,” Kaius was saying, but he sounded muffled, and from the corner of his eye he saw Harbor swing at the drone, only to be met with another electrical shock.

Get. Up.

He forced himself to his feet, aiming a clumsy blow at the bot. It didn't land, but its weapon receded. He was too far to catch Harbor, and could only watch as he hit the ground. Damnit, what could he do? He was still dazed from the shock, too slow to put up a fight, had no clue what to do with the bomb, and they were running out of time.

Jericho dodged the drone's tongue by an inch, stumbling as he did, rolling when he hit the ground to give himself more distance. He came to his knees beside Harbor, once again forming a Jericho-barricade between him and the enemy, though he doubted he could do much besides take the shock himself.

Behind him, there was another low hum.

Damnit!

“Harbor,” he shook the unconscious man's arm, keeping his eyes on the drone in front of him. “Harbor, wake up.”

Across the room, Kaius set the bomb down, and aimed a kick at the encroaching drone. The toe of his shoe just barely grazed the metal, but it was enough to make the thing turn around. Jericho turned himself, ready to attempt to face drone number two.

The round metal chassis poked around the corner, but something was wrong. It was low, and misangled, and attached to—

“Joy!”

She was wearing the drone half over her fist, like an oversized set of brass knuckles. Jericho wasn't too surprised. If anyone was gonna manage that, it was gonna be her. Her triumphant smile turned to a snarl as she spotted the first drone.

“Drop, Manak!”

Kaius didn't need to be told twice. Joy lunged forward, filling the room with a crunching clang as chassis hit chassis. The hovering drone smacked into the wall, still flying, but definitely flying a little less straight. Undeterred, Joy's bot-fist slammed into it again, and the thing spun out, landing on the ground with an uneven whir.

Benji came up beside Jericho, offering a hand up, which he took gratefully.

“I can't believe you two,” he said with a grin. “How'd you get the drone?”

“Well it started coming at us, and—”

“Bomb,” Kaius said.

“And I'll tell you later,” Joy finished.

“We're down to three minutes.” Kaius held it towards her, eerily calm despite the fact that this thing still might be real. 

“Three minutes?” Benji said. “Shit, do you know how to—?”

“No.”

“Let me see.” Joy took it, fidgeting with the screens and dials.

“Any ideas?”

“I don't know. It's definitely not like any of the bombs I've seen.”

“Maybe it's just a hoax?”

“At least we'll all die together,” Benji mumbled, sliding onto the ground next to Joy.

What if they did? What if Vic really did just want to get rid of them?

“Don't say that,” Jericho said. “We'll figure it out.”

“In three minutes?”

“Two and a half now,” Kaius put in.

Two and a half. Not nearly enough time, even if he did know where to start. Joy didn't seem to be making progress, Harbor was still passed out on the floor…

“Give it to me,” Jericho said.

“Just a sec,” Joy said, prying at one of the screens.

“There's no time.” He sighed. “I'll take it and run. If it is real, maybe I'll get far enough for you all to stay safe.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Maybe. Just…” he held out his hands.

“Absolutely not. Like Benji said, we'll die together.”

“Well I'm not married to the idea…”

“Okay, fine.” Jericho moved to Harbor, getting an arm around the unconscious man and hauling him up. “Benji, Kaius, take him and go. Get as far as you can. We'll try to solve this.”

Kaius frowned. “Davis—”

“No point in everyone getting blown up. Go.”

Two minutes left.

The two of them got on either side of Harbor and started dragging him back the way they'd come. If it was real… Jericho just hoped they'd have enough time to clear the blast. He dropped to his knees beside Joy.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don't know. At this point, we just gotta tear it apart, right?”

“Might be our best shot.”

“Wish I had a fucking screwdriver.” She managed to get her fingers under a screen and jerk it away from the device, but underneath was only smooth metal.

“Fuck!”

“Try another one.” 

“Or…” Joy clenched her fingers around the broken drone and began to slam it into the device, again and again until it started to come apart, but the clock kept ticking.

“Jer, just run. Like you said, no point in both of us—”

“We can figure it out,” he insisted, pulling at the cracks she'd created. Inside was an excessive amount of wires, tangled like rainbow spaghetti. Ari loved spaghetti. God, please let the letter get to them, if I don't make it, just let them be okay.

Thirty seconds.

No time for finesse. Jericho started ripping out wires, not getting so much as a beep from the device. The more he pulled, the more he found, almost like the whole thing was just wire.

Twenty seconds.

No matter how much he ripped apart, it was still steadily counting down, and how much explosives did it take to kill you anyway? Was the charge small enough that he could throw it across the room and they'd both survive? He didn't know.

Ten seconds.

Maybe they all should've ran. If they abandoned Vic's mission, he'd hand them over to the law, but he could still write his daughter letters from jail, still get visits, and Joy had a family too. Why hadn't he forced her to leave, why hadn't he just snatched it from her hands and ran in the first place?

She'd run after you. She'd never let you get that far.

Hell. There were worse people to die with.

Three.

Two.

One.

Both of them jerked back on instinct, arms flying up to shield their faces as if that would be enough to save them.

But…

Nothing happened. The device was emitting a high pitched whine, almost too faint to hear past the blood rushing in his ears.

Joy laughed, falling back onto her elbows. “Holy shit. It was a hoax after all.”

“Knew it,” Jericho said with an uneasy laugh. He had, hadn't he? Why was his heart beating so fast, then? Why did he feel like he was about to cry, that he needed to hug Arabella right now or his chest would burst?

Joy threw an arm around his shoulder, and he settled for hugging her instead.

“Here's to stupid bravery,” she said. “Fuck, I need a drink after that. My hands are fucking shaking.”

She helped him to his feet, and he found he was shaky too. No matter how implausible a real bomb was, that small chance…

Shoot. Yeah, he wouldn't mind a drink right about now either.

Above them, the concrete began to shift, cubes unstacking and reforming until they were standing on open ground, in the training room as it had been before the challenge.

Vic was standing beside the other three, hands clasped behind his back. Harbor looked dazed, but at least he was up and blinking. Jericho gave a little wave.

“Sloppy, but not entirely incoherent,” Vic said, strolling over to him and Joy. “Your cohesion was above what I'd anticipated, and I must say I admire your refusal to quit.” He turned back to the other three. “Mr. Manak, I appreciate your willingness to take charge. And Hunter, excellent work locating the device.”

Joy's hand went up. “Was there a better way to defeat it? Something obvious that we missed?”

Vic chuckled. “There wasn't a way to defeat it at all. In fact, I'm surprised you even found it.”

So the ‘mission’ was a success?

“I was worried about what would happen when I had all of you working together, but I'd say this team has some real potential,” Vic continued. “Good work. Go on and take the rest of the day for yourselves. I think you've earned it.”

Sure felt like they had. Jericho wouldn't have considered the bomb hunting much of a workout, but he was exhausted. As Vic left the room, he and Joy moved to rejoin the rest of the team. Even after Vic said they could, none of them had moved to leave. Not even Harbor.

“So,” Jericho began. “Not a real bomb.”

“No shit,” Harbor said, but it didn't sound half as bitey as his usual comments. Neither him nor Kaius seemed like they wanted to make eye contact. Benji, on the other hand, hugged Joy, then detached himself from her and hugged him.

“You're an actual badass and I love you,” he said, to which Jericho responded with a chuckle and a pat on the back.

“Good job getting Harbor out.”

“We both know I didn't do shit,” Benji said with a laugh. 

Joy gave an exaggerated stretch beside them. “Normally, I'd invite everyone out to a bar after an event like that, but seeing as we're all stuck inside… I dunno. Wanna head to the kitchen and whip up some pancakes? I'm sure I can figure them out this time.”

Joy turned to go, and Benji joined her. Harbor shrugged and trailed behind them. It was just Jericho and Kaius left, trapped in an awkward silence.

“So,” he said lamely.

“You're an idiot,” Kaius replied. “If it had been real—”

“It wasn't. Everyone's fine.” His own fear seemed ridiculous now. He felt like an idiot for believing it for even a second. Kaius let out a huff.

“You're not a human shield, Davis. You're some of the only brains this team has.”

That nearly sounded like a compliment. “I can’t help it,” Jericho shrugged. “If I can help, I'm going to help.” 

“I've gotten fairly good at watching my own back,” Kaius said, and it almost sounded like that was the end of it, that the smaller man would turn on his heel and saunter away, but then…

“You could've left me in the maze. After the drone attack. You could've left Harbor.”

Jericho shook his head. “No. No, I couldn't have.” He rubbed the back of his hand, knuckles still throbbing from the hits he'd dealt the robot. “We're a team now. Gotta stick together and all that jazz.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Would you have left me?” Jericho asked.

“Yes. If it was pragmatic, and the mission could still go on without you. Now that you know that, would you still say that you—”

“Yes,” Jericho said. “Yes, I still wouldn't leave you behind. It's not a transaction, Kaius. It's just what's right.” He sighed. Is this what he’d stayed back for? To start an argument that might ease his bruised pride?

“I'm gonna go get some pancakes,” he said, turning around.

“Davis—”

“Hm?”

“I…” Kaius bent his head. “Thank you. It was stupid, everything you did was stupid, but I can't say I'm not a little grateful.”

Jericho felt a smile forming. Well what do you know?

“You're welcome,” he said. “And call me Jericho.”

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations

[muirmarie]

[tw: suicidal thoughts, terminal illness, mentions of vomiting]

somehow 3400 words of accidental story???? may edit/rewrite a little and throw up on ao3 idk, but it stands as-is. vaguely mcspirk.

________

my father was a betting man

________

for the world is hollow and i have touched the sky where starfleet sends a cmo replacement before they go to yonada, and mccoy - mccoy goes back home. where else is he going to go? kirk and spock are throwing him away, aren't they - he'd asked jim to let him stay, but instead he'd - well. it doesn't matter.

he goes home. he goes home to joanna. she's sixteen years old. younger than he was when his father -

he goes home to joanna, and he counts out his months, and he makes a plan for how he's going to put the period on his life, because he's not going to put her through what he went through. he's not going to let her watch him die. he's not going to beg her -

well, it doesn't matter, does it.

he looks in the mirror in the mornings, and he sees his father's face, and he looks at her blue eyes and he wonders if he was ever that young. wonders -

he doesn't reply to any messages from kirk and spock, but he keeps in sporadic contact with uhura and scotty. he doesn't ask them not to pass anything along - he won't do that to them - so he just doesn't tell them anything true. never asks them anything real.

it's just, he thinks. he killed his father, after all. it's just and it's fitting that he goes out like this. but he won't let joanna -

she wants to move in with him and take care of him, and he won't let her. he won't let jocelyn be the bad guy, either, even though she'd let him, he knows. she'd let him tell joanna that jocelyn wouldn't let her. they haven't loved each other in years, but she was there when his dad -

jocelyn would let him, if he asked. he doesn't ask. it's his fault.

he won't let joanna take him to the doctor, won't let her pick up his medications, won't let her stay over in case she hears him throwing up at 3am again, won't let her help with all the sundries that come up when you're slowly wasting away.

he knows she wants to help, knows what he's doing isn't fair, either, but what is fairness when it comes to families? what is fairness when it comes to the memories and the regrets and the forked paths you can never, ever backtrack to.

why did you even come home, she asks, if you weren't going to let me help? she's so angry. she reminds him so much of himself.

what can he tell her? the truth, that he had nowhere else to go? the truth, that he is selfish and he couldn't bear never seeing her again? the truth, that it turns out that he really is his father's son?

that she really is her father's daughter?

he has nightmares, some nights, imagining that this is the great curse on the mccoy family tree. imagining her in thirty years right back here, in this moment, right where he is. he knows how many terminal illnesses there are in this universe. any one of them could have her name on it.

i'll be most effective on the job in the time left, if you'll keep this to yourself

the pain...stop the pain...son...release me...

jocelyn chooses to help more than he's comfortable with, but then she's never listened to him when he said he could handle something on his own. that was never their problem, was it. it's 3am and he's throwing up again and he tries to remember what their problems were, tries to remember why she threw him out, why spock and jim threw him out, why everyone he's ever loved has -

it doesn't matter.

it doesn't matter, does it. how many months does he have left? how many people does he have left that can throw him away? if they're not already gone, at least he will be, soon.

he's written his letters and he's arranged his affairs. he won't let it get as bad it he knows it will get. he won't -

he will not ever let anyone hear him -

he wonders, some nights, what it cost his dad to ask him. thinks about what it had cost leonard himself to ask chapel to stay silent, what it had cost him to ask kirk to let him stay, what it had cost -

he's blocked all avenues of communication from kirk and spock, by now. hasn't answered scotty or uhura for weeks. he'd tried to block chapel, but she -

she shows up on his doorstep six months after he leaves the enterprise. tells him she's taking a leave of absence to care for a family member. tells him, with that steady smile and cautious eyes that she's been in contact with jocelyn. shows him the documentation that she's listed as his next of kin.

jocelyn must have forged that, he thinks. wants to laugh. wants to punch a goddamn wall.

go back to the ship, he tells her, you're gonna fuck up your career taking a leave like this.

i only joined the enterprise to find roger, she says. c'mon, leonard. love always comes first. we only have so much time.

he can see it in her eyes, that she knows why he doesn't want her there. not after his father - he's never told her that, and he knows jocelyn never would. but she's always called him her worst patient. always known he could never let himself be vulnerable. used to chide him about it. used to -

you're not gonna kick me out into the cold, are you? she asks.

you really think i'm gonna let you boss me around my last few months on earth?

3am that night, she runs a cool washcloth across the back of his neck, brings him a glass of water so he can rinse out his mouth, says nothing at the angry, helpless tears in his eyes.

it takes her a week to ask him. she has more patience than he gave her credit for.

you gonna talk to them?

there's only one them for him, isn't there.

there isn't anything left to say, he says. it's the truth, isn't it?

you're really going to keep pushing them away?

they did that on their own, he says. wishes he meant it. wishes he -

let me stay, he thinks. release me, he thinks. don't tell anyone, he thinks. let me help you, he thinks. you've got to hold on, he thinks. let me -

he knows his father loved him. he loved his father, too. loved him so much that he would have given anything -

did. did give everything. gave his father up. gave his father up, and then had to live with it. has been living with it all these years.

he's tired of asking people for things that they can't give him. tired of not asking people for things they want to give him.

tired. just tired. been tired all his life, hasn't he. steeped in it.

looks at joanna's blue eyes, and sees the exhaustion in her. sees his own eyes, doesn't he. sees his own eyes, looking at his father. begging him.

i've done everything i can do. you've got to hang on.

hold on, he thinks. because he begged him, too. begged his father, too. he forgets that part of the story, sometimes, but it's been hard to forget, lately. thinks about joanna kneeling by his body, begging him. begging him to hold on.

why had he asked his father to hold on when he was so desperate to let go? why had he tried to make him stay when he was hurting so badly? was he that scared of being alone?

lonely, he thinks. he's lived a lonely life, hasn't he.

was that the last time he begged someone to stay?

he hadn't begged jocelyn. didn't even ask her to stay, did he. just listened to her, and nodded, and threw his shit together, and kissed joanna on the head, and took off to a hotel.

to a hotel. why hadn't he gone to a friend's? why hadn't he gone to a friend, and sat down, and poured out everything that was going on? why hadn't he asked for help? why hadn't he asked jocelyn for help before things got as bad as they did? maybe there wasn't anything still left to save, but it took them years to be friends again, didn't it. couldn't he at least have left as friends, instead of making them claw their way back to it?

he asks her, one day. she's taking him to the doctor. even chapel isn't able to sway her when jocelyn decides on something, and she's decided she wants to be here for him. so he asks her.

that was one of our problems, she says. says it easy, now, even though her mouth pinches, like it still hurts a little. you never needed me, leonard. never wanted to need me. i always felt like i had to bulldoze you if i wanted to help you, which eventually starts to feel a little counterproductive. and things haven't really changed, have they? you're just too tired to fight me anymore.

he is, he thinks. he is tired.

he is so tired of letting go of things. of being let go of. of running away. of being run from.

a lonely life, he thinks.

thinks, hold on, dad. please don't leave me. please keep fighting. i need you to keep fighting. please don't leave me.

wonders, now, with the benefit of hindsight, what his dad must have thought when he heard him begging. did he think leonard selfish?

is joanna selfish, he thinks. is chapel? is jocelyn?

it's just humans, isn't it. just humans trying to hold on a little longer. don't leave me. don't make me leave.

and then, finally, let me go.

he hasn't told chapel that he's made plans. he should. he can't and he won't. he doesn't need her to -

he doesn't want her to ask him not to do it. he doesn't want her to ask him to stay. to fight. to linger.

nine months since he left the enterprise. he can't focus on the studies that chapel still reads religiously. still looking for answers. he remembers that. he remembers how that feels. he remembers the hope and the hopelessness tangling together.

we have time, joanna says every time they talk. we will have time.

hold on, he thinks. keep fighting, he thinks.

spock and kirk have resorted to sending physical letters and packages.

let me go, he thinks. they pile up in his study, unopened. let me go, let me go, let me -

jocelyn and joanna come over for dinner a few times a week, chapel and jocelyn talking easily together, joanna's eyes too often focused on the way leonard moves the food around on his plate but barely eat. he barely keeps anything down these days. he watches those blue eyes watch him watch her, and he -

are you going to open those letters? jocelyn asks him, and he wants to laugh. wants to cry.

it doesn't matter, he says.

she takes his face in her hands, her eyes serious, her voice steady. it's all that matters, leonard.

she loved him, once. loves him all over again now, he thinks. it's a gift, isn't it, to be loved.

it's a curse, as well.

you're his doctor -

i'm his son!

3am, and there's nothing inside of him to throw up, nothing inside him left to claw out, nothing but his still beating heart, his paper-thin lungs, the last few secrets he's swallowed and never spat out.

he sits down amid the letters and the packages, but can't bring himself to open them. what could it matter, he thinks, if they care? he knows they care. what would it matter, he thinks, if they love him? he knows they love him as best as they're able. what does it matter if they did what they thought was the right thing to do?

he's never going to see them again.

he's never going to see them again, is he. he's never -

it's too much to cry through, so he doesn't cry. just sits there, amid the letters and the packages, the last desperate resort they had to try to contact him. to try to make him listen.

they'd made him leave, so he'd left, hadn't he? hadn't he done what they wanted?

if you'll keep this to yourself -

he hadn't really asked, had he. hadn't been able to bring himself to ask. not the real question. not what he'd really meant.

kirk had given him his answer anyway, hadn't he. hadn't even given it a day before asking for a replacement. that's how easy he was to replace, wasn't he. and they'd found one, and they'd brought them aboard, and mccoy had walked away without looking back.

kirk had wanted to talk, then, too, but what was there left to say? he could count on one hand the number of times he'd really asked kirk for something. he could -

i'll call you, kirk had called after him, and mccoy hadn't looked back. hadn't answer any of his calls. had blocked him. and now, these letters and packages piled around him.

spock had barely said anything at all. mccoy had already been so turned inside out that he'd thought little of it. if kirk didn't want him, of course spock wouldn't want him, either.

besides, if mccoy had a year left, what the logic in spock trying to remain in contact with him? what was a year worth? what was a friend worth? what was mccoy -

it doesn't matter, he thinks. tries to think. tries to will himself to believe. it doesn't matter, because if he lets it matter -

he falls asleep out there, that night. chapel chides him, but she can't do much more than that. he's deteriorating rapidly, now.

he should call them, he thinks for the first time. thinks he doesn't want them to see him like this. remember him like this.

his plans are made. his letters are written. the hypo -

he should call them, he thinks. can't bear to do so.

thinks of his father, begging, thinks of him begging his father.

thinks of kirk's face before mccoy had turned away. the careful blankness of spock's when he'd started to raise his fingers in the vulcan salute, and then bitten back his traditional goodbye. live long and prosper, mccoy snorts. what a goddamn joke.

he should call them, he decides. he'll keep it brief. just long enough that they won't have to haunted by any what-ifs. he can give that to them. he should give that to them. just because he's always been the one who'd loved more than he should doesn't mean they don't love him at all. he knows they do. he knows he's hurt them.

thinks he can swallow down his own hurt one last time, swallow it down long enough to give them the goodbye they need. give them what they need, even if it hurts him to do so.

the pain...stop the pain...son...release me...

he's good at giving people what they need, isn't he. just once -

it doesn't matter. he won't let it matter. not for this. he'll let them go. let them let him go. give them what they need.

he worries over it for one more night, and then he checks his comm. there are too many messages to even glimpse at - it seems like half the enterprise has tried to contact him over the last three days. he worries over that for a moment as well - has something happened? is someone hurt? is someone - well. is someone besides him dying?

he can't take the time to read or watch them now, though. his brain gets too foggy too quickly these days, and he has to use his time to his best advantage.

he unblocks spock and jim.

hesitates over both of their photos for a moment, deciding. not that it matters - they're probably together.

jim will be angrier, but he'll be more hurt if he calls spock first. his head is pounding. his mouth is dry. it will have to be a short call. at least he has that - he can turn it off whenever he wants, escape them any time he wants. there's a universe between them.

they put a universe between them.

he calls jim. waits. almost laughs at the idea that all this build-up, he might not answer. probably can't answer. probably too busy saving the universe.

what was he thinking? that he was going to just sit and wait around for him? kirk didn't even want him there. he didn't - of course he wouldn't -

he's being foolish. he'll try back later. he has time. he still has a little left, doesn't he. a few more weeks. maybe a few months if he's lucky.

he's never been that lucky, has he. the great mccoy curse.

he reaches for his comm, decides not to leave a message, decides -

bones? jim says. his eyes look wild. he looks so young. he looks so old, somehow, too.

hi, jim, mccoy says. his voice sounds steady. his hands are steady.

did they finally get through to you? jim asks. he's speaking so fast it's almost hard to parse the words, or maybe that's just mccoy's tired brain.

what?

the crew, did they finally get through to you? they've been trying non-stop -

i don't know what you're talking about, jim.

that's the house, a voice suspiciously like spock's says. mccoy smiles a little. he knew they'd be together. they've always been at their best together, haven't they. never needed -

just hold on, bones, jim says, and mccoy rolls his eyes. of course. death bed goodbyes, and of course he's being asked to hold. he shouldn't have called. he shouldn't -

why don't you just gimme a call when you're free, mccoy says, trying to keep his voice light. trying so hard it feels like he's choking on the words. choking on the love. choking, choking, choking.

bones -

i should go, mccoy says. got a busy day myself. tell spock i said hi.

tell himself, you goddamn idiot, kirk says.

there's a knock at the door, and mccoy wants to get off of this call, wants to lock himself away, can't beginto deal with whoever is visiting, can't bear to see joanna like this, can't -

i have to go, jim, mccoy says.

there's a louder banging on the door, and mccoy drags a hand across his forehead.

you aren't going anywhere, you sonuvabitch, kirk says

and then someone starts trying to break the goddamn door down, and mccoy bolts to his feet. sways.

sit down, bones, kirk says, his face too close to the screen, his eyes wide and worried, sit down before you fall down and kill yourself

it doesn't matter, mccoy says, barely realizing he's saying it out loud until he hears kirk's sharp inhale

there are footsteps in the hallway

maybe someone's coming to kill him. it makes as much sense as anything else, and he's so tired, isn't he.

keep fighting.

he's just so tired.

hold on.

he slumps back onto the couch. closes his eyes.

i have to go, he says. says it to jim, to spock, to the footsteps coming closer and closer. you have to let me go.

someone sits down next to him. puts their hand on his thigh.

you're not going anywhere, jim says.

and then mccoy frowns, a little. blinks his eyes open.

that voice didn't sound like it was coming from a communicator. that sounded like -

jim is sitting next to him, and spock is moving rapidly around to the other side of the couch. sitting down next to him as well.

what - he says, disoriented. wide-eyed.

afraid.

we have found a cure, doctor, spock says, reaching out and taking mccoy's wrist gently in his hand.

you aren't going anywhere, jim says. i'm not gonna let you.

what are you doing here? mccoy says.

what the hell do you think? jim says, his hand tightening on mccoy's thigh.

leonard, spock says. we are bringing you home.

[tallmadgeandtea]

SS&SP Snippet

Slight! Out of context spoilers ahead, but I came up with/wrote this in preparation for *gestures to ongoing events* and actually like it, so I hope you all enjoy:

“Miss Walker,” Benjamin began— he waited until the Headquarters' door shut, and they were out of Washington’s domain. He looked back, once, and then he lowered his head slightly, as if she was more than just three inches shorter than him. "I have something I must ask you."

Elizabeth blinked. “Major, you’ve already apologized, I cannot imagine what else you need to say to earn my forgiveness-“

“It’s not that,” he said. Another glance. “The soldiers were dragoons, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” she answered. Yesterday’s knots returned, tied in her chest with stronger rope, cold hands. Do not cry. Do not make it worse. She looked at the ground. “They were. Their helmets had skulls on them, Major. It- it was as if they were staring at me.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry, I- I am still frightened.” Washington was right: she needed to go home, rest in her own bed, and let dreams vanish the thoughts of soldiers and smoke and blood. Even now, she wondered how close they were, if they remembered her face, her voice, her body…

The British men had touched her, gotten so close to defiling her, yet she would stay in a ballroom for years if it meant she'd never again have to see the evil in their eyes, inhale the smoke from their guns and feel their cold steel on her skin. What was a kiss compared to the gaping hole left by a bayonet?

"I know," Benjamin said. All too gentle-- God, he looked like he was going to be sick, and regret overtaking his features, jaw clenched, pity reflected in his blue eyes. Do not pity me, she thought. But it was all she wanted yesterday. Pity. "If you wish to stop after today-"

"I said I will not." Will, not wish, not want. Will.

"Then we shall send extra protection," he said. "Men hiding in the woods-- your Pennsylvania riflemen, if they're available. I'd prefer my own men, though. It's a shame Seymour and his fellows went to Trenton."

"Do not worry. Captain Tilghman has good aim, and I trust him." Maybe you'll have your own solution. She'd write a letter to her father's steward, his contact in Lancaster--

"It's for my own sake, too, Miss Walker." He looked at her, "Until I am able to protect you myself."

She was so tired, nerves so tight, she chuckled. "And when will that be, Major?"

"When we meet the British in battle, and I cut down every dragoon I see."

Oh, Good Lord.

A promise she knew he'd keep. She saw it in his expression, his eyes focused, sharp like the saber at his hip.

"You will not be thinking of me, then," she said, her voice hushed.

He smirked. "I disagree. I have a great memory."

The door opened behind them, boots on the stone steps. "Tallmadge!" Hamilton shouted, "The General isn’t done with you!"

Tilghman brushed past him, adjusting his cape. "And he wants me to escort you home, Miss Walker!"

"Go on," she told Benjamin.

"Miss Walker."

And then, like the night at the Tavern, before they truly knew each other, before she got a taste of the world around her, he bowed his head, took her hand in his, and kissed it.

She watched him disappear into Headquarters' frantic trap.

An apology, a threat, and a promise.

She didn’t know what to make of any of them.

[fregion-bond-breaker]

Fregions bones ached, his muscles sore. It had come for him slowly, so slowly he hadnt even noticed it. He was already long in the tooth by a large mark compared to most charr. He thought, maybe that meant he'd just keep on going like this forever. But one morning in a borrowed bed visiting Kas and jory, he felt it. This ache, this weakness. He was so tired… Kas had been the first to find him. He'd tried to get out of bed but he just couldnt muster the strength.

The heavy thump of his body hitting the floor must have drawn her attention up there. She had gasped, and he had laughed, weak and raspy, as she tried to help him up without looking at his naked form. Even now as he drew closer to the end…he was still embarrassing her. He was glad that never changed…she was fun to tease. She had asked if he was ill, running a fever. But no, he had shook his head and smiled sadly at her.

"Im dying…" He had said in a low voice. "I think my times up." She had panicked. Clones jumping every which way as they ran to likely contact a doctor, send letters to their friends and who knows what else. He remembered her shaky hands on his forehead as she scolded him for joking like that. But she knew he was telling the truth…

As the days drew on and his strength failed him. He cursed the world. What an ignoble end for the legendary Charr Commander. Hero of Tyria. To die peacfuly in bed. Not on the field of battle, not with a sword in his hand. But in bed, with his friends worrying over him.

Braham and Rox were surprisingly the first to come see him on his death bed. They walked in, hand in hand and he had to stop himself from laughing himself in to a coughing fit. Leave it to the young to wait till your dying to figure themselves out. Rox spoke about Olmican spirituality, about not needing to be afraid. He corrected her of course. It wasnt fear he felt after all, just disappointment it wasn't fighting. Braham joked that he could grab his mace, and send him to the mists, but before he could take the norn up on the offer Rox punched him in the shoulder with a disapproving look. He thanked them, for their visit, and wished them well in their new life. Peace lets one think on these sorts of things he supposed.

The next to visit him was Anise and Livia of all people.

"Even if we forced your hand…you were still a blade member. And an invaluable ally to Kryta, Commander." Anise said.

"Could always reanimate you if you want. Maybe let you touch the scepter of orr so you can keep on going?" She had a sad look on her face. "This is the second time I've watched you go, big guy. Wonder what you'll come back as next time?" She chuckled. "Maybe one of those bears in the north?"

Anise chuckled behind her hand. "Or a Tengu? You were always oddly beautiful for a charr." Fregion smiled. He was glad they could joke with him like that.

Crecia, Logan and Rytlock came next.

"Commander…" Logan spoke first. "It has been, an honor working with you. I also took your advice with Rytlock, and Crecias." He wrapped his hand around the charrs waist and pulled him in close. Rytlock blushed but did not fight, simply nuzzled the human affectionately.

"Its a shame we aren't out fighting something Commander…no charr wants to go so sweetly." He nodded. "Though I suppose, after killing Gods, Dragons, Demons and a slew of other horrors, I think that more then makes up for it."

Crecia stepped forward, hesitant. "I know we… and the legions…have had a rocky relationship. But I speak for all charr, thank you commander. Without you, the charr may just be icy thralls under Jormag, or worse. There may not have been any charr left at all." She placed a blood legion flag, folded neatly, on his bed. "For the legions…soldier." She and Rytlock both saluted.

Zojja came down from her large tower with a letter in hand from the Astral ward as well. Though she wasnt alone he was sure. He felt the familiar whispers and carssing of Peitha in his mind.

"Wayfi- I mean…Commander." After a moment looking forlornly at the ground she whispered. "…Fregion." She placed the letter on the bed side stand. "Considering what uh, what we know about me…and our previous history. I thought I should come see you off. I- I didnt think I'd feel this awful though." She sniffled and sent a watery smile his way. "I'm going to live a long time, ya know. The Astral ward wanted to ascend you but, given how volitile and poorly your relationship with them was, i figured id tell them no in your stead." He couldnt help but laugh at that, though it took him some time to stop coughing after.

"Mortal…you have been most amusing, I could bring you in to my fold. It would be a shame to lose someone like you…" She knew the answer, and her voice, normally low and composed, had a hint of desperation to it. "But I know the answer. Maybe we'll stumble in to each other in the mists. May your journey be gentle and easy." Zojja choked out a sob. He reached a trembling claw to her face, wiping a way the tears. He smiled. He was glad his friend was on the road to being better now too. She gripped his hand tightly, soft whimpers and sobs escaping her as she clung to him. He pretended to not hear the whispers of 'dont go' and 'please dont leave me alone again…'

On his final day…he knew it was time. He told Marjory and Kasmeer as much. They sat with him through out the day. Helped him out to the plaza of Kormir. The moon was high and the stars were shining. As if the universe itself was winking sadly at him. Or maybe his eyesight was starting to get blurry. He had asked them, told them and no one else of his secret devotion to Kormir, about his past connection to her. Kas had been extatic the first time he had told them, so many years ago. So in secret, with only the priests of Kormir to read him his last rights. They sat beside him as he lay, Caladbolg in hand, on a small cot prepared for him.

"Commander…?" Kasmeers soft voice broke the silence. Marjory gave her a quick comforting squeeze. "Fregion…" She corrects sadly. "Im only now realizing myself how little we…we used your name. And it- it hurts knowing the whys, and that only now does your name come easy."

Marjory presses her forehead against the side of Kasmeers head before turning to him and saying. "You lived a long, hard life commander. What are ya, 100 years old? You got to be a miser of a charr." she laughed. "Its a shame none of your cubs are here to see you off…charr cultures been changing, its a shame you…you wont get to see it." Fregion smiles up at the stars. He understands.

He only breaths deeply in response. His eyes are growing heavy. The comfort of Caladbolg on his chest, Tybalts lucky cog at his side. His warbands old pin, a pen that Demmi had given him that hed treasured after her death. He closed his eyes, and for a moment. He felt surrounded. Warmth and love filled him.

"Good to see you again, agent."

"The three of us are back together huh lightbringer?"

"Fregion, you've carried Caladbolg with honor. Im grateful we get to meet again."

"Hey there he is! Took him long enough! Look how OLD he is!" The cheers of roudy charr rung out.

"…Goodbye. I love you all…and hello again." He exhaled for the last time. Carried away by loving hands.

[zombubble]

📓

(and I'd love some YOI of course!)

(In response to this post. Send me a 📓 and I'll tell you about a fic I have in mind.)

Oh you get a juicy, juicy fic from way back when. Affectionately called "Can't Touch This."

CW for angst and near-death experiences and uhh. Mild body horror? Sort of? Some people die but none of them are characters with names, nor are they very nice people to begin with.

It ends happily though, don't worry!

This fic is set in a vague fantasy magical setting that's supposed to resemble anything from like the late 1600s to the early 1800s. Because y'know, who needs historical accuracy in a world like this?

Childhood friends of sorts. They were school friends, and Viktor was a star student, advanced magic user, on track for some prestigious position right out of school. Yuuri was brilliant but struggled with doing things in the exact ways prescribed. His understanding of his magic and how to use it just didn't fit into the technical education mold.

Viktor tutored him though, and helped him figure out how to make his magic at least work with what they wanted him to do (or look like it did).

They parted ways when Yuuri graduated. Viktor was starting a teaching career at the university, while Yuuri went back to work with his parents in Yu-Topia.

They have a pair of boxes they can use to transport letters to each other, and while Yuuri keeps writing... Viktor does not. They fall out of touch, and Yuuri settles back into things.

Fast forward some years.

Yuuri's been working with his parents for a while now, and taking on other odd jobs in town that other magic users a) say are impossible, b) are unwilling to do, or c) will charge exorbitant amounts of money for.

One day, they get a guest from the north. He's called down to help prepare the room and it turns out to be Viktor. Yuuri's happy to see him, albeit confused. Viktor's very standoffish but also very nice.

Viktor says he's on break from teaching--a sabbatical of sorts--and that he just needs to look for some books? See if there are other people around for him to talk to about "uh... magic."

(Yuuri's like "Dude I'm right fucking here" but he doesn't say so.)

Still nice, like he had been, Viktor avoids Yuuri like the plague. Won't spend too much time with him, and leaps away when they're even close to physical contact which, you know, sucks because Yuuri'd gotten used to the little touches and hugs and the way Viktor expressed himself.

One day, he finds Viktor being attacked and realizes why.

(Cut here because a) it's getting long and b) this is where the horrifying stuff is.)

Viktor is trying to avoid conflict, avoid a fight, but the mugger comes at him, makes physical contact with him and starts screaming. Yuuri watches as the man just... melts, starting with where he'd touched Viktor. Ends up a pile of ooze.

Viktor's shellshocked, asks again and again why the person touched him when he said not to--he said not to, dammit--and Yuuri is. More understanding of why Viktor's so skittish.

He gets Viktor home (without touching him) and sits him down, forcing him to tell Yuuri about what's going on.

It's a curse. He'd been cursed by a colleague, and so far nothing he's tried has been able to break it. Makka's not with him because she loves cuddles and if he touches her, she'll die and he's horrified at himself, at his circumstances, at the possibility of killing another person.

Yuuri says they'll figure it out. Bullies Viktor (affectionately) into letting Yuuri go with him while they find magic, books, and/or magic users that can help them sort this out.

While they travel, Yuuri goes into town, handles dealing with people. He does the cooking (they don't know what Viktor's touch will do to food), and Viktor takes care of setting up camp and whatnot. Tries to stay away from everyone, to ignore the worsening nightmares.

Tries to ignore, too, the way the curse is getting worse and worse over time.

He and Yuuri dance around each other, pining. Viktor's not willing to let himself even think of trying to rebuild anything until he's not a walking death trap. Yuuri's trying to be understanding about the distance and such, but it keeps getting to him until they fight. They make up, though, and feel a little better about things.

After a few weeks of travel they end up at Minako's and everything she does a) hurts like a bitch and b) fails to work.

(Yuuri sits outside the door, unable to help, his head in his hands as he listens to what sounds like torture.)

They decide they need to go back to the university. Minako will try to meet them there.

Lots of touch starvation, lots of pining while they travel. Winter is settling in and it's cold and they can't even take shelter in each others' arms.

One night their camp is raided and Yuuri is injured badly. Viktor has no weapon to hand and if he tries to find one, Yuuri's going to die so he just leaps at their attackers and touches each and every one of them.

Yuuri is unconscious. Viktor begs him not to die, tells him he's in love with him and is sorry he didn't tell him before and to stick around, dammit.

Somehow, he gets Yuuri back to Minako.

Once Yuuri's safely with her for treatment, Viktor leaves on his own and heads back to the University.

On the way back, he finds a cave he remembers, from when he and a small group were snowed in years and years ago. It was bad. Some people didn't make it and Viktor and the few who lived were found unconscious, but despite the memories, it's a solid shelter.

He finds, there, his letterbox that he'd lost. It's full to bursting with Yuuri's letters and he realizes how it must have felt, all these years with no response. He'd had no idea where to even start looking for it and meant to try and/or write the inn, but hadn't known where to send a letter for Yuuri if not just... through the box.

He cries. He resolves again to get this curse broken so maybe he can actually hold his best friend/the man he's in love with.

Once he's at the University, Viktor sneaks in and runs almost directly into Yura. After explaining, begging, and promising a few rewards, Yura agrees to help him break into his colleague's office.

They look through stuff until Lilia and Yakov find him, and both are unimpressed.

At Minako's, Yuuri wakes. He doesn't remember the confession beyond words in a dream-like state, and doesn't believe it was real. He's injured, still, but when he finds out Viktor went to the University, he's livid.

But he's still healing, and he can't leave Minako's yet.

At the University, Lilia is working with Viktor and given she knew Viktor's colleague and how he worked, and given she has Minako's notes, she makes better headway with it.

Yuuri heals enough to be escorted home after a month, and goes back to working with his parents. He mostly helps in the kitchen, now, as it's most compatible with the effects of his injuries.

Viktor keeps trying. Lilia's last-ditch solution is an attempt to literally reform Viktor's magic, cutting out the parts corrupted by the spell and taking the spell out. He could lose his magic or his life for the procedure, but the spell will kill him soon if he doesn't.

In a letter to Yuuri, he explains everything and the last Yuuri hears from him is that he loves him (because Viktor had to make sure he knows.)

Fast forward a while, maybe a month or two.

Yuuri's working at the inn still, sure that if Viktor died they'd have told him and that's what he's clinging to. His parents don't know everything, nor does Mari, but they try to support him however they can. He's angry sometimes. Depressed others.

One day he's working and someone runs in, saying a man got hit by a wagon? He's unconscious in the street and can they possibly bring him in here while the doctor comes?

Yuuri's family runs out to help, of course. Yuuri follows.

He sees Viktor unconscious on the floor a moment before he sees his mother reaching out her hand to touch him and as he screams for her not to, he sees that... she's okay.

Groggy, Viktor sits up, holds her arm as he does and Yuuri realizes the curse is broken. Viktor's free of it.

It cost him his magic, but... he's okay with that if it means he can be with Yuuri.

There's a lot of soft love, confessions, Viktor staying and living there (can't teach magic without magic, after all) with Makka at his side.

And they live happily ever after!!!

I hope you enjoyed uwu............

[skrimbled]

do it coward

Ok- here is my rambling.

Bfau is a fantasy au indpired mostly by @hopepetal and @applestruda and their boatem knights au, but i put a spin on it and changed a lot. (sorry for tagging you two if you see this lol)

Rambling is under the cut :]

Basically- Grian the avian fire sorcerer is tasked by the king to assemble a small team of warriors to defend an ancient village called Boatem, which has an open rift to a dangerous void-like realm inside of it. It's dangerous as they will live there full time and will be the first (and only major) line of defence against anything that emerges from the rift. Grian agrees, and sends out letters to those he sees worthy.

The first was a ranger called Scar, his former party member and travel buddy. They used to adventure with Grian's adopted older brother Jimmy, and Jimmy's boyfriend of the time BigB, but due to a tragic event BigB passed, and Jimmy left adventuring for good to mourn, leaving Grian with a now unpredictable teammate. Scar died too in that event, but a stolen artifact they had brought his soul back to his body. The problem? Souls that are angry when they die become vexes, which are wild and violent. So when Scar came back to life, he gained otherworldly abilities which he couldn't control. They tried to continue travelling, but eventually Scar couldn't keep risking Grian's safety and they parted ways so that Scar could understand his new life and powers. He had to have control by now, after years of minimal contact, right?

The second invite went to his twin sister Pearl, who he hadn't seen for many years. She had left their home town in response to strange dreams and visions calling her somewhere. Grian hadn't heard from her for a long time until recently, when Tim got word from a traveller that she was alive and well, and strong too. She was some sort of paladin now, and neither of her brothers had any more information than that. Grian knew that his new life would be tough and he would be lying if he didn't admit that he really wanted his twin's support.

The third person to contact was another close friend, a vampire called Mumbo. Grian met him when he was weak and starving, having offered his blood in exchange for temporary shelter. They became fast friends, and talked often. Grian wasn't sure how he was in combat, but the guy was hella smart! He had so many ideas for traps and weapons, and knew hoe to make them. Grian felt that having a more technical teammate would be valuable, so Mumbo was a no brainer really.

The fourth and final invite was tough, as he had ran out of connections. Well- he had his older brother, but Timmy had been left flightless by the same event that took his lover. While he and Grian occasionally talked via messages, Tim was never a fighter, and what magic he did have wasn't suited for combat. Even then, even if Tim somehow said yes, Grian could never put him through all that pain again.

He settled on talking around, and found out about a veteran adventurer called Impulse.

Impulse was a bit of a wild card, and it also showed in his personality. He was noticeably older than everyone else, but his portfolio was nothing to sneer at. He had been a part of an adventure party like Grian, and had gotten pretty well known and respected. Impulse was a knight apparently, the brawn to a pair of brains. But when Grian first met him, he was instantly a little strange. He would frequently refer to himself as a 'we' or 'us', and Grian was convinced he'd caught him talking to himself once as if there was a response. Grian didn't know this yet, but Impulse wasn't just a knight. He was a human sharing his body with a (kind of stupid and annoying) demon, and had been for many years. By now it was almost second mature for him to include Skizz into conversations, even if no one else could see or hear him.

These five indeviduals were the only ones to guard and interact with Boatem, and just kinda have to deal with each other. Not much happens at Boatem, but at least the down time lets them get to adjust to each other and their quirks.

So yeah. Grian gets his sister, two besties and a random dude together to do nothing but bicker and train unless shit goes down, featuring LOTS of background characters with their own stories and development that don't matter as they aren't the pov. I will talk about them though. Just not now.

I hope you enjoyed my midnight ranting :]

[bajibitch]

Request: Their biggest fan wants to replace you. Yandere!

Kazutora, Manjiro, Kokonoi, Baji, and Rindou

Kazutora

When his superfan showed signs of becoming a problem, he blocked them on all platforms and didn’t allow people to message him unless he followed them. The fan still had their ways of contacting him and since he was fed up, he made a post calling them annoying and let other fans pile on. He knew they would be sad but he didn’t expect them to take drastic measures, so he was surprised to see you tied to a chair when he came home.

The fan stood behind you with a knife. He knew asking them to let you go would make matters worse, so instead asked why they were visiting. They went on about how he didn’t need you. They understood him. You were just there for his money but they were gonna love him. When they asked if he was willing to give them a chance he said it was great.

He went on to say how it would solve the problem that's been bugging him. He's been looking for a way all this time but the solution just came to him. While the fan is saying they knew he'd understand, he shot them. Sure, he could’ve found a way to get them out but then they’d just make a new plan.

Manjiro

He didn’t mind the comments people made saying he’s theirs because it was expected, but he hated the direct messages asking for a chance. Making a video talking about his relationship with you and how much he loved it seemed like a good idea, until it wasn’t.

Manjiro thought if they respected him then it would extend your way but the nasty, bitter comments proved him wrong. He’s never been the one to care about what people say, but there’s something about them attacking you that gets him feeling aggy.

He didn’t make any post about it or block the comments because he needed them to think he didn’t care. That way when he goes to the user in real life, the one who runs a popular fan blog that trashes you, then they wouldn’t expect it to be him.

The press assumes there was an altercation between fans, but the question of how their head was off their shoulders still remains. There was no murder weapon on the scene but surely the killer used a blade, no human could it with their bare hands.

Kokonoi

He never paid any attention to his fans because he didn't want to deal with their nonsense, but when he saw your name trending he couldn't ignore them any longer. The tag was flooded with pictures of you and the usual talks about how you don't deserve him. It struck a nerve seeing that they would tag your name, just to be sure that you knew they hated you.

Kokonoi didn't make a public comment, it wouldn't help you. They would ignore it and keep making their little hate groups. He wanted to have a direct effect on them, so he used his resources to get their information. It seems like too much but he didn't have to do the work himself so it was nothing to get their addresses, jobs, and business if they had any.

Even though he got famous he never cut ties with his old gang so he sent people to the fans. Of course, when you're controlling so many people some of them go rogue and take things further. Families were being killed and lives were ruined but that was fair. They could've pushed you to the edge with their constant harassment, leaving him with no one.

Baji

The fan stayed well after the meet and greet, hoping to get a moment alone with Baji. He was well aware of who they were. He got all their gifts and letters of appreciation and at first, he loved it, but then it became something sickening. The letters became more about you as time passed, asking if he was sure about his relationship, adding in the flaws they believed you had, and going into ways they could be better for him. When they started sending nightmarish fantasies of getting rid of you and running off with him, he called them out online and told them he didn't want anything from them.

Baji thought they’d get the message but seeing their smile grow as he came into view told him otherwise. His upper lip was pulled up as he looked down at them. They couldn't be serious, thinking they were the better option as if they could sign up for the competition, but they were. When they started to pour out their heart to him, he pushed them aside to get to his car, but they followed behind going on with their confession.

It was insane. Were they pretending to be oblivious or could they not sense his repulsion? When they reached for him again he couldn't stop himself from beating them. He couldn't tell that they were becoming unresponsive, he just didn't wanna hear any more of their delusions. So he kept beating them until he felt they got the message.

Rindou

He didn’t just play at clubs, he made beats for other celebrities and helped them with their album. One of them was a fan of his and would often hint at wanting an intimate relationship. Time and time again he would turn them down but one day he just ignored the question. Everyone knew he was with you so he wasn't gonna waste his breath reminding them.

The celebrity didn't understand why Rindou wouldn't be with someone equally famous and wealthy, but rather than saying it they would put it in their music as if he wasn't also working on it. He didn’t let them put out the diss tracks and made sure they knew they were blackballed, but he didn’t stop there.

Since he used to have a great relationship with them, they felt comfortable sharing everything, good or bad. Sometimes they gossiped about other people, and other times he witnessed their embarrassing moments. It wasn't everyone has their moments kind of embarrassment. It was you knew that was disgusting and you're embarrassed because I saw. Either way, he made sure to have another artist mention it on their album.

It goes platinum so the celebrity in question isn’t able to escape the endless questions about their unusual activities or the mockery from their peers. Their career plummeted since no one wanted to be associated with them, just like Rindou swore. They were nothing but a good laugh or eyesore depending on who was looking.

[chromatic-fate]

Thinking about more Dadsley adopting Diona

Dude becomes a fucking surveillance camera to make sure Diona is safe, cause he KNOWS there are rapists and pedophile in the Fortress that would happily take advantage of her, so he would probably have her wear some kind of tracking system out of (reasonable) paranoia.

The other inmates (minor criminals) actually start to like Diona and start treating her well, and even Wolsey decides that she gets the better welfare meals. Like, she still has to pick a straw for her meal, but she doesn't get the bad ones anymore.

Wriothesley teaching Diona how to fight in hand to hand combate while Diona teaches him or gives random tips about hunting. I like to imagine Diona accidentally punching him in the nuts during one of their spars and he collapses to the ground groaning in pain while Diona panics. Sigewienne is just laughing the background.

Wriothesley seeing Diona getting harassed by an inmate, and before he can intervene, she just straight up decks him in the balls like she did to Wrio during their last spar before walking away, and he can't help but cry from being so proud of her.

Diona would definitely help out Sigewienne in the nurses office since she's a healer in the game, and Sigewienne would teach her better ways to heal people.

I think of the barret society was still there while Diona is there too, Dougier would definitely try to kidnap Diona and torture her into following him, and when Wriothesley inevitably finds out, he'd 100% torture Dougier in a much worse way. After comforting Diona, of course.

Wriothesley would send letters back to Mondstadt to let the authorities and/or her extended family know about what's happened, and once Diluc gets wind of it, he makes plans to fly over to Fontaine to check on her (because the knights can't even be trusted to do this), only for the residents of Springvale to come to him, asking if they can come with him or deliver letters for them.

When he arrives to Fontaine, he goes to Neuvillette and asks if he can see Diona, to witch he responds that "the Fortress of Meropide works independently from the Court of Fontaine, and I would usually suggest that the person asking to give up their endeavors. But given the unique circumstance of Miss Diona's case, and the Duke's relationship to her, I can at least send a letter to inform Wriothesley about your request "

Wriothesley accepts Diluc's request and he goes down to meet with Diona in his office, but when he gets there, it's just Wriothesley and no Diona in sight. Diluc starts getting defensive about the situation and start "subtly" demanding to know where she is. To which Wriothesley would respond with "she's here and will arrive shortly. I just wanted to prepare you in case she has a fit and runs out, considering how negatively she's talked about you."

Diona eventually comes in after Diluc and Wriothesley talk for a few minutes, and she's angry and defensive at first, but eventually apologizes about how she treated and talked to him, and Diluc says that he doesn't mind and understands why she said the things she did.

After the awkward greetings, Diona starts asking about Mondstadt and how her friends and extended family are doing, and Diluc gives honest replies, relieved that she seems to be at least safe within the Fortress.

Diluc hands over the small bag of letters from the residents of Springvale to Diona before leaving and waving goodbye, and Diona honestly starts to break down crying after he leaves from all the people that wrote to her. Wriothesley hugs and comforts her about it, happy that she has people who care about her (despite her shitty dad.)

Diluc and Wriothesley would definitely keep in contact, mostly to give Diluc updates about Diona, but also to try to get to know each other better. Wriothesley sends him tea from time to time, and Diluc send him grape juice.

Diona would definitely sneak past her curfew (cause Wriothesley would absolutely have one for her) just to see him fight in the Pankration Ring and kick serious ass. During one particularly challenging fight, he'd get hurt pretty bad, almost getting knocked out, and Diona screams to him "GET UP AND KICK HIS ASS, DAD!" without realizing it. After the fight, Wriothesley is stuck between scolding her for staying out late and crushing her in affection for calling him dad.

Diona denies ever calling him dad.

[humanoidalien27]

The next chapter for you lovely people. Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

Content warning: fluffy stuff and trust issues

....

Chapter 10

Summertime sadness

It had been a few weeks, Sebastian and Ominis seemed to have found a way to cope without magic, even helping with the chores, not that Sebastian didn't explain all the ways magic could make it easier.

You were happy to see more color come back into your mom's face as she listened intently to all the stories Sebastian shared of his time at Hogwarts.

He even told her about Anne and her curse, now putting the blame where it belonged, on Rookwood.

Ominis was opening up, not nearly as fast as Sebastian, but he started to engage in the conversation more.

He still sat close to you and would fidget if you had to do something, leaving him alone with your mother.

You had been waiting for a particular owl to arrive and when you heard it screech, you had to get to it before Sebastian pestered you about who it was from.

You took the letter, paid the owl and opened it outside, not that you couldn't hear Sebastian already pacing.

You read through it quickly, before stashing it in your pocket as Sebastian walked out into the porch, too impatient to wait, with Ominis and your mom flanking him.

"And?"

You took a deep breath, instantly seeing his shoulders drop. "She'll be here tonight."

Life sparked in his eyes as they darted to yours. Before you could react, you were crushed into the tightest hug you've ever felt, nearly being picked up off your feet.

He let go almost as quickly as he grabbed you and turned towards Ominis. "She's coming!"

"I know, I heard. I'm blind not deaf," he teased, but Sebastian was too excited to notice as he raced inside.

"He's not going to demolish the house, is he?"

"Given his nature, I suspect he'd end up breaking something."

Your mom looked to you as she couldn't even tell if Ominis was joking that time.

"Probably best if we kept an eye on him," you admitted before heading into the house.

But, he was just sitting at the table dumbfounded.

"Sebastian, are you okay?"

"Given Anne's curse, I do want to find a cure still, but I don't even know where to begin."

You were grateful that Sebastian had told your mother everything after he broke down due to nightmares and stress. He hadn't left out a single detail, which landed you in some hot water for not clueing her in on how dangerous your year had truly been.

"Not turning to forbidden magic, is a good start," Ominis replied as worry flicked through his expression.

"You said that Rookwood fellow cursed her, so maybe looking for possible curses humans know would be a good place to start. As far as you've told me, you were only looking for goblin related curses," your mom offered slowly as if unsure she should get involved.

"That doesn't quite narrow it down," you mumbled. "Rookwood wasn't above using any spell to get what he wanted."

"But, you can see which curse is close to Anne's symptoms and figure out the best way to cure her. Though I would feel better if you had more experienced help."

One face popped into your head.

"We could try contacting Professor Fig," you offered. "He knows how to keep a secret."

"Fig? The teacher who mentored you after your letter arrived?"

You nodded. "Yeah, he also has ministry contacts, so we might be able to get better help or even more help with the search."

"It's better than watching her die," Sebastian admitted, rubbing at his chin. "She's all the family I have left."

You couldn't help but glance at your mom. You probably would have walked the same path he did to save her life.

"Okay, I'll send an owl to Professor Fig."

You headed out of the room, with Ominis closely following.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked once you were in your room. "The last time we went down this road, someone was killed."

"Yes, but he was doing it alone. This way, Fig's involved and by extension, the ministry. It'll keep him from doing anything foolish," you replied as you looked back at him. "People need hope Ominis. Hope that life isn't as screwed up as it seems. We know that better than anyone."

His expression melted. "I know, but given what happened last time, my fear isn't unwarranted."

"No, it's not." He relaxed further at your admission. "Which is why I want to do this now. Sebastian won't be able to pilfer through the tomes at Hogwarts by himself. He'd have to wait for answers, while rebuilding the bridge with his sister and what better way to do that than in a neutral area that neither are accustomed to and can't use magic?"

His brows pinched for a second. "You've been planning this for a while."

"Feeling helpless while watching someone you care about die, it takes a toll. That pain never really goes away, you just learn to tune it out until something reminds you of it."

He fell silent, knowing you were referring to your father's death.

"I understand where Sebastian is coming from. I've lived it. Only, I had my mom to help me. He had Solomon and come on, that guy hated Sebastian. Anyone could see that. There wasn't even three beds in their house. Solomon had no qualms about yelling at him when I first arrived, I'd hate to see how he treated him without company-"

"I get it, I do." He sighed, dropping his head. "If this starts taking a turn for the worst- if he starts using dark magic again."

"You'll turn me in, I know that. I take my commitments seriously," Sebastian said standing at the door. "All I've wanted was a chance. A chance that I wouldn't loose my family completely."

"I know Sebastian," Ominis whispered, lifting his head. "I don't agree with it, but given my family, I guess I wouldn't fully understand."

"You can choose whose in your family," your mom said, moving up behind Sebastian. "Blood doesn't make them family, it just means you're related. As we grow, we build our family out of the people we come to know. Some stay and some go, but that happens. The three of you have been fighting for each other your whole school year."

Your eyes travelled to the boys, both lost in thought until Ominis's head turned in your direction.

"I now understand where you got your way with words."

You snickered as your mom turned red and made an excuse to leave the room.

"Are we telling Anne?" Ominis asked with a sharp tone.

"I've already spoken to her about it. She wasn't happy, but when I explained Sebastian's side, she was willing to allow it under the rule of absolutely no dark magic, which the three of us agree on, might I add."

His heckles softened. "I just don't want a repeat. I doubt our friendship would be able to survive another go."

"I don't want that either Ominis. I owe the both of you more than I can probably repay. I'm not going to destroy what I've managed to get back."

You looked at Sebastian as pain crossed his features.

"I'm going to go see if Sara needs help with anything."

Ominis sighed heavily as he dropped into a nearby chair.

"Are you mad at him or yourself for not stopping him?" You asked after Sebastian's footsteps faded.

"Both, I expect, but bringing this back up-"

"I know, I wasn't too fond of the idea myself, but Anne's his sister and it's hard enough with her hating him, but if she dies before that rift can close, Sebastian will never be the same. Do you really want to watch both of your friends twist unrecognizably?"

"Obviously I don't, but this isn't something we should take lightly. Our actions have consequences that affect other people."

"I do know that, Ominis."

His fists clenched as he shook his head. "If someone else dies-"

"If we do nothing, someone will die anyway and it'll be Anne." He flinched at how harsh you sounded, but you pressed on. "I'm not telling him to pick up were he left off. I'm telling him that if he needs to do this, to do it right. Without secrets, dark magic or sneaking around. Solomon can't destroy every avenue Sebastian has now. He CAN do it right. We just have to put a little faith in him."

"I did put my faith in him before-"

"So, he's not worthy of forgiveness, but you are?"

You knew it was wrong to use that against him after everything he's done to prove he's changed, but he was as stubborn as Sebastian at times.

Sometimes being reminded that people are human is needed; they're messy and sometimes cruel. For all human advances, we're still flawed and ignorant to the experiences and hardships of others, but there was enough hate in the word it didn't need more.

Without being able to see you, his eyes glared right into yours, but he didn't reply.

Frustration built up and you knew if you continued this conversation a bigger fight would break out.

"I'm going for a walk."

You headed towards the door as he sat there, his head following your movements.

....

Chapter list: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

(I like my Ominis story. But damn if the one I'm writing for Sebastian isn't making me sit at the edge of my seat. So much mystery and suspense planned. ☺️ I will be releasing that after all of Ominis's are finished.)