#cw custody battles

[peridotglimmer]

.

Heading back south again today to meet with the ex and social workers and youth workers to see if she'll let me see my son now. 🙃

[herawell]

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[blametheeditor]

The Expense Of Trust | Chapter 3

Anomalies and Incident Reports

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Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of others being lesser than. Intent to kill. Death by anomaly. Dehumanization. Addressing someone as 'it'. Darker themes and tone.

Run Down: In the instant of a site-wide containment breach, there are only a few protocols available to follow. Know the right people, hope to be at the right place at the right time, and whatever you do, don't trust anything.

Scott can't seem to catch a break, but next week we torture Fritz

______________________________

Scott’s first thought when Vincent instructed him to turn around was to prepare to run. 

Because up until that point, the living shadow hadn’t been helping in escaping the facility unless he was in immediate danger, and even then it’s been verbal directions while hiding in Scott’s own shadow despite having the capability of using a corporeal form. Meaning it was up to the containment specialist to do all of the leg work in carefully making his way toward an exit. 

Instead of an SCP rounding the corner, however, he was greeted with the sight of a small group of people lined along the wall of the hallway opposite of the one he had been making his way down. 

At first he was confused, managing to identify D-Class and medical personnel, the latter he actually recognizes as the kid who has checked over him monthly ever since he made the deal with Vincent. A tactile response officer, a researcher, and someone wearing a suit. And there is only one person in this entire facility who wears a full piece suit. 

The moment he realized it was David seemed to be the same moment the senior researcher recognized Scott.

He expected a lot of things. Annoyance due to their interactions always turning into arguments regarding wearing proper safety gear. Possibly even relief finding another person who hasn’t fallen victim to an anomaly. At the very worse indifference considering on the surface, Scott wouldn’t have much to contribute when it comes to escaping other than having each and every hallway memorized and therefore able to lead them to the exit. 

No, David suddenly looks horrified before turning around. Begins running in the opposite direction. 

Was the senior researcher leaving him behind? 

Scott tries to quench his anger, sending a glance over his shoulder to see if an anomaly snuck up behind him. Because the man couldn’t be that selfish and leave someone to die because they had arguments. 

There’s nothing. No sign of a single SCP. Honestly, Scott should’ve expected it given his track record. 

“They’re heading straight toward an anomaly,” Vincent pipes up. 

Wait. “What kind of anomaly?” 

“The bad kind,” is all that’s offered. 

Great. Wonderful. So either Scott can be the bigger person and warn them despite the clear want to leave him to survive on his own, or pretend he doesn’t have such vital information and simply continue toward the exit. 

Of course Vincent wouldn’t care which is chosen. The demon has made it blatantly clear he finds the morals most humans possess to be quite entertaining. Wouldn’t hang it over Scott’s head if he picks the second option because it’s just a matter of survival, simply revel in watching the guilt slowly consume the containment specialist from the inside out. 

God damn it. 

“Dav-!” 

His shout is cut off as the ground vanishes from beneath his feet the moment he stepped forward to chase after them. He’s in freefall for a few seconds, unable to breathe, unable to scream, staring out into a pitch-black void. 

It feels like a lifetime has passed, and then the ground appears as if it was always there, Scott unable to stop his momentum. Forced to bring his hands up in the attempt to soften his collision with a wall that seemed to have materialized from thin air. 

It didn’t, he’s more or less used to Vincent’s way of ‘teleporting’ him from place to place, but he will never be an ‘expert’ at it. Not when he’s positive the demon purposefully throws him near objects just to see him trip or at the very least nearly break his nose. 

Scott’s fairly certain he earned a slight concussion this round, but this time he manages to stay on his feet. Looks around the room before spotting the open door. Racing out in the hopes he managed to stop David in time, only to immediately feel hands grab his shoulders before an arm is secured around his neck. 

He feels panic flood his heart as a hand is placed on his forehead, begins to struggle with all his might. Praying he isn’t killed all because he was trying to save their lives. “I’m not an anomaly!” 

"He’s n-n-not!” 

“David.” 

“He’s not, but he’s marked.” 

Scott doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but once he realizes he opens them to be greeted with David staring down at him with a grim expression. Stares as the taller man pushes someone behind him. 

The worst part however is the sight of some kind of mist creeping around the corner heading straight toward them. 

“Behind you!” 

The arm that had been slowly restricting his throat releases him. But before he can process why, hand is on his back to shove him away from the oncoming threat. “Move.” 

Scott doesn’t need to be told twice, obediently running back toward the spot he had originally been. Only slows down for a second in order to meet Jeremy in the eye. The one familiar face he doesn’t have a bad past with. “Follow me.” 

He’s unable to wait for the kid to give a response, sprinting down the opposite hallway and making a swift left to continue on his path toward an exit. 

“Right.” 

Vincent’s directions aren’t questioned. He still has a hard time trusting the demon, but with Scott’s life currently on the line he has no room to argue. And this time, he can’t help having a little bit of faith at the sight of a security door only a few yards away. 

"Stop!” 

He barely manages to in time, skidding to a halt right before stepping out into the hallway parallel to the one he’s currently in. Gasps for air as his legs tremble from the exertion and terror. Remembers he’s not alone and whirls around to see Jeremy’s about a few feet behind him, able to slow down without any trouble. Followed by the D-Class, the officer- they all followed him. Even David. 

“V-Vince?” Scott begins, hoping he’ll get a little more information on what’s stopping them from reaching the security door. It’s right there. As soon as they get through it they’re essentially home free. 

“There’s something waiting in the hallway,” the demon begins. “As soon as you step out it’ll grab you.” 

“God damn it.” 

“Right or left?” the officer asks as he walks closer, grabbing a small disk from his belt. Meaning he heard Vincent’s explanation. And is willing to give the disembodied voice the benefit of the doubt. 

Vincent hums. “Directly above, actually.” 

The man nods once. Presses one side of the disk before throwing it out into the hallway. “Brace yourself.” 

Scott didn’t know who was being addressed, but within the fraction of a second, something drops from the ceiling and disappearing once more the device gone. A moment later it sounds as if something exploded right before he feels the displacement of air. 

“Thirty seconds.” 

He’s at the security door in five. Swipes his key in one. Holds it open as he counts everyone making it through before slamming it shut with four to spare. 

“Scott,” David growls lowly in between labored breaths. “You better explain yourself.” 

“Well aren’t you a hypocrite,” Vincent begins as his shadow stretches onto the wall beside Scott. He then steps out of it to form a familiar purple man. One who’s grinning from ear to ear. “I also seem to recall it’s none of your business.” 

“It is my business when I’m apparently dealing with a demon!” 

“Oh so we’re making deals, now.” 

“Vince,” Scott hisses to try and reel the living shadow back in, even if it might be completely fruitless. 

He almost misses the officer doing the same thing to David. Though instead of flashing a condescending smile, the taller man backs down. “How do names work?” 

Vincent’s smile suddenly vanishes. “You’re a hunter who knows what he’s doing.” 

“And it seems your only weapon is ambiguity.” 

That earns a low whistle. “I can see how you managed to get someone like him under your thumb. You’re safe with your first. Last is pushing it.” 

“I’m James,” the officers introduces, locking eyes with Scott most likely looking just as lost as he feels. “Thank you for helping us.” 

“Of course. I’m Scott, this is Vince-” 

A hand is suddenly covers his mouth before he can finish the living shadow’s name, leaving him stunned as Vincent gives a dark chuckle before removing his hand. “No need to overshare, Scotty.” 

“We're going to trust this?” David demands as he gestures toward the scene in front of him. Honestly, Scott can’t even be upset. Not when it’s abundantly clear he knows nothing about the demon he made a contract with. 

“At least I have a rulebook,” Vincent shrugs. “I’m much more concerned with the half-breed.” 

Scott feels like he was left behind somewhere. He doesn’t know where exactly, and to be entirely truthfully he might even want to know. But considering someone was able to wrangle Vincent within just a few seconds, he wants to stay on good terms with James. If that means somehow fixing his and David’s relationship in one way or another, then he will do it, no matter what it takes. 

The only issue is the fact Vincent seems dead set on trying to anger everyone. Including Jeremy who attempts to glare at the demon. “H-H-His name is M-Mike.” 

Scott doesn’t want to know why Vincent suddenly looks very excited. “This is going to be fun.” 

“James,” David all but pleads. 

“They both saved our lives,” is all the officer says. 

That is the last straw for Scott. The realization that the only reason why someone is staying on his side is because a favor is owed. “Vince. Do me a favor and shut up.” 

“Did I go too far?” the demon stage whispers with a smug smile. 

“You know you did!” Scott exclaims. Uncaring if the others are watching and listening. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t intentionally antagonize.” 

“What for?” Vincent asks. It almost feels like a slap in the face from how genuine it is. As if the living shadow can’t find any reason not to be. 

“You know what, forget it.” 

“Did the fact I’m a demon just slip your mind?” 

“Did you claiming we’re friends slip yours?” 

Vincent suddenly barks out a laugh. “Did you honestly think I meant that?” 

Scott stares up at the demon for a moment. Memorizing the sneer and the sheer joy at the fact he managed to trick the containment specialist. 

Someone who bent over backward for the anomaly to make the research teams back off after they managed to get under Vincent’s skin. Pulled several strings in order to get a table placed inside the demon’s containment room so he could protect himself within reason. Genuinely enjoyed answering questions about ‘odd human mannerisms’ when the living shadow escaped containment for the sole purpose to bother Scott. 

Looking back on it, he should’ve realized he was just being used. It’s nothing new. Just meant he was an idiot for thinking a shadow demon would be any different. 

Well two could play at that game. 

He refuses to acknowledge Vincent’s sneer quickly vanishing as it’s replaced with a look of regret. “Scotty-” 

Scott brushes past James and David in order to lead the way down the smaller corridors on this side of the security door. Tunnels normally meant for maintenance that should be empty of most SCP’s. And for any that managed to slip through the cracks, Vincent will easily be able to sense them before they get to close. Something he’ll have to announce or else Scott gets killed considering he’s first in line. 

“Scotty, wait.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge Vincent running to catch up with him, the living shadow opting to keep a form he’s commented on being less superior. For what reason, Scott doesn’t care enough to think about. 

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” Vincent murmurs as he falls in step with the shorter. 

“No, you’re right,” Scott shrugs. “You’re just a demon who doesn’t possess any feelings.” 

“Look, I know you’re angry-” 

“How do you know what anger is?” 

“Hey,” the demon growls. “Stop being pretty.” 

Scott glances up to see if Vincent was intentionally botching the saying, not wanting to be tricked. But there’s a genuine scowl aimed toward him. No hint of a smirk. “It’s petty.” 

Vincent opens his mouth with a glare before hesitating, seeming to realize what was said. “What did I say?” 

“Pretty can be an amplifier or a compliment.” 

“Stop being pretty petty.” 

Scott hates himself for wanting to smile at how confidently the sentence was spoken. “Close enough.” 

“I think of you as a friend,” Vincent grumbles, as if he’s unsure how to feel about such a confession. “I offered a deal instead of killing you for a reason. I really do enjoy throwing you across rooms.” 

Scott gives a look. “Not what you’re supposed to enjoy in a friendship.” 

“But then I would be lying if I said anything else!” 

He whirls on the demon in order to properly chew him out, yelling when Vincent sinks into his shadow with a laugh. “Asshole!” 

“Are you two done?” David snaps from the back of the line. One that has James at the front who stopped a few feet away when Scott did. Following by Mike, Jeremy, and the assistant researcher he had completely forgotten about. A bit unsure where the kid has been this entire time. “I’d prefer to get out of this place before whatever the hell is kept in the basement finally realizes it can escape containment.” 

Scott glances around the corridor. Staring when he spots a door almost to his immediate left. The door he was looking for, actually, because on the other side is a direct path to an exit out of the facility. 

“Don’t-!” 

Vincent’s warning came too late as the door swings open. 

He was expecting a horrific Eldritch being by how panicked the living shadow sounded. Yet all he sees is a young boy no older than ten years old standing about a yard away. Holding nothing but a plush golden bear. With a blade of shadow as long as he is tall racing forward to slice him cleanly in half. 

[aztrokraut]

So true! Having inherited my tall dad's athletic torso and my short(er) mum's pear-shaped genes, I feel personally victimised by Kibbe (and high-waisted jeans) 😔 ✊

monday afternoon groans (#1)

i vote that we all take k___e to court for the collateral damage his typing system has done to women above 5'6" with atypical body types

（；´д｀）ゞ

[dollyfiles]

how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe met

sweetheart!reader mlist

cw: fluff, mutual pining, readers childhood trauma

it was late afternoon when rafe walked into rosie's diner, the neon signs buzzing softly in the window as the sun dipped low behind the buildings. he had his daughter lizzie cradled on one hip—her tiny arms crossed tightly, her little face scrunched into the saddest pout rafe had ever seen.

her favorite glitter dress, the one she wore every chance she got, had torn earlier that day when she tripped while chasing butterflies in the park. the rip wasn't even that bad, but to a four-year-old, it may as well have been the end of the world.

rafe had definitely faced tougher days—stressful meetings, custody battles, even the lonely ache of single fatherhood—but somehow, nothing compared to the heartbreak of his four-year-old daughter sitting across from him in a diner booth, blinking away fat tears over a torn glitter dress.

he had tried everything. promise of a new dress, a bigger one, a more colorful one, even offered to let her choose two. but nothing seemed to make it better. lizzie sat with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, lower lip pushed out and trembling. her little unicorn purse was tossed beside her like it had betrayed her.

rafe rubbed the back of his neck, trying again. "sweetie, i promise we'll find another glittery dress. maybe an even shinier one. how about that?" lizzie sniffled and looked away. "it wasn't just a dress," she muttered. "it was the one."

he sighed and leaned back against the booth, running a hand down his face. he loved this little girl with every part of him, but he never quite figured out how to fix the kind of heartbreak only a glitter dress could cause.

rafe looked around the diner, trying to distract himself from the weight pressing on his chest. the place had an old-school charm—checkered floors, soft golden lighting, a jukebox in the corner humming faintly. cozy, familiar. it was supposed to help. but right now, all he could see was his daughter’s tear-streaked cheeks.

and then you appeared.

sweetheart.

you moved through the diner like you belonged in another era—red lipstick, soft curls tucked behind one ear, a notepad in hand and an expression that warmed the air around you. you took one look at lizzie and didn't say a word about the tears or the pout. instead, you crouched down to eye level, resting your elbows lightly on the edge of the table.

you had seen a lot of pouts and tantrums during your shifts at rosie’s, but there was something about this little girl—sitting there, silently mourning her torn dress—that tugged at something deep in your chest. it reminded you of yourself.

you remembered being small, wishing someone would notice when your world cracked a little. but no one had, not back then. so now, when you saw that kind of sadness in a child, it became your mission to fix it, even if just for a moment.

you analyzed the little gorl for a hit before speaking, your voice soft. “well hey there, pretty girl,” you said, tilting your head to meet lizzie’s eye. "looks like someone could use a little magic today." lizzie peeked at you with red-rimmed eyes and gave a silent nod.

and yet your smile didn’t waver. “you know, i have a secret weapon for days like this. pancakes. but not just any pancakes—they’re probably the best ones in town.” lizzie didn't answer at first, but a tiny spark of interest flickered behind her wet lashes.

rafe blinked, watching the scene unfold like it was something out of a dream. his daughter didn’t usually warm up to strangers. but lizzie was listening. her pout was still there, but her eyes weren’t as glassy.

"aaand," you leaned in with a whisper, "i’ll even ask the kitchen to give your pancake extra sparkles. but shhh, don't tell anyone. it’s only for the bravest girls." lizzie gave the tiniest smile. it was small—barely a shift—but rafe noticed it immediately. and he felt something in his chest loosen. he cleared his throat. “that, uh… that actually sounds pretty good. for both of us.”

you straightened, your doe eyes meeting rafe’s blue ones for the first time and he could feel it. there was something about the way you handled the moment—gentle but not patronizing, playful without being pushy. you chuckled and scribbled on your notepad. "coming right up!”

as you walked away, rafe couldn’t stop watching you. he should’ve been focusing on lizzie, on patching up the day—but for a moment, he let himself just look. at the way you gently teased a smile out of a stranger’s kid. at the quiet strength in your posture. at the way you moved like you had learned to carry yourself with pride, even if it hadn’t always been easy.

there was something about you that felt safe, and he wasn’t sure why that thought unsettled him as much as it comforted him.

you busied yourself behind the counter, assembling the plate of freshly baked pancakes in your special way. it was silly, really. but you took extra care with this one—extra whipped cream, adjusting the blueberries and strawberry slices and adding some of your secret sprinkles and glitter, the ones u always hid in the corner of the counter.

you didn’t know their story. but you didn’t have to. that man—he looked like he hadn’t had a break in a long time. and that little girl? she had that kind of sadness that you wanted to fix so damn bad.

when you returned and placed the plate down in front of lizzie, the little girl gasped, eyes wide as saucers. “he’s got a whipped cream mustache!” she squealed.

there it is, you thought. the first smile of the day.

it was always like that. fixing sadness, especially in little ones, felt like stitching something back together. no one had ever done that for you when you were small—when you cried yourself to sleep in a cluttered room, pretending not to hear your parents fight in the next one.

no one had ever knelt down and made you feel like your sadness mattered. so now, when you saw a tear-streaked child, your heart instinctively moved toward them. you couldn’t not care. it was built into you.

rafe’s head tilted in disbelief at his daughters sudden change of heart. that sound—his daughter’s laugh—was like oxygen. he looked up at you, awe and gratitude written all over his face. “you’re magic,” he said, half-joking but entirely serious.

you just smiled, your cheeks dusting with pink. “not at all,” you replied. “just pancakes.” but something shifted between the two of you in that moment.

the man hadn’t said much. just sat there for most of the time, trying so hard to hold it together, trying even harder to soothe a little heartbreak that he couldn’t quite fix with words or promises. you could see the wear on him. the way his shoulders slumped just slightly, like he carried a hundred things that no one ever asked about.

the tiredness around his eyes wasn’t just from a long day—it was something deeper. a man who was used to pushing through. a man who had probably stopped letting himself want anything just for him a long time ago.

but he was still here. still showing up. still kneeling beside a tiny, brokenhearted girl and offering kisses and soft-spoken comfort. that kind of love—it wasn’t flashy. it was quiet, steady, constant.

and god… it made your heart ache in the best way. because you never had that. no father who bent down and kissed your scraped knees. no one who promised to make it better, even when they didn’t know how.

watching him love his daughter like that—without hesitation, without pride, just pure devotion—it stirred something in you. something admiring. something tender. he was trying. and you admired the hell out of that.

you turned to tend to other tables, but rafe’s eyes followed you, unable to look away. you felt yourself blush under the weight of his gaze, but you didn’t waver. instead, you offered him a small, knowing smile—the kind that said: i see you. you’re doing better than you think.

and from that day on, rafe and lizzie became regulars at the diner. maybe it was the pancakes. maybe it was the way lizzie would always ask, “is the pretty lady here today?”

or maybe it was because rafe—despite himself—wanted to keep seeing you, the woman with the cherry-red lipstick and a heart that seemed to understand the language of both children and tired men.

and deep down he knew it was never just about the pancakes. it was about the way you made the world feel a little gentler. a little warmer. a little more like home.

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @rafecami @isasweetie @beausling @rafesheaven @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @drewsephrry @rafessecret @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @rafeysbangs @drewstarkeyswife0 @rebeccapineapple @f4dedtouch

[neeeooon]

shut me up ;

blue lock michael kaiser x fem!reader, series

genre/cw

-> 16+ smau/writing hybrid (chs w writing indicated w a 🎸), rock band au, college au, aged up characters, enemies to lovers, slow burn, real people are used in the photos, shipping, dark humor + kys jokes, kaiser’s past, violence, mentions of sh, mentions of drinking (ab)use, mentions of sex, y/n is very dramatic and likes to exaggerate things, more will be added as the story progresses…

description

-> blue lock university wasn’t your first pick. or your second. or your third. but you’re here now, and after three years, too deep in your degree to transfer. blu was known for its loud crowds, its rowdy students, and its top tier soccer team—all things you ignore to focus on your education so you can graduate quicker. but when you’re forced to find a place after your dorm-mate bails last minute, you realize the rumors might be much worse than you expected.

playlist

-> shut me up, mindless self indulgence -> my own summer (shove it), deftones -> twin flames, midrift -> aerials, system of a down -> mascara, deftones -> i hate everything about you, three days grace -> screaming, loathe -> entombed, deftones -> realize, trxy! -> savior, novulent -> void in blue, glare -> why’d you only call me when you’re high?, arctic monkeys -> strawberries & cigarettes, troye sivan -> verrückt, eisbrecher -> two-way mirror, loathe -> bitches, mindless self indulgence

status

-> ongoing, updates every 2-5 days unless stated otherwise

-> extras! relationship poll | asks

profiles (1) profiles (2)

0 | homeless

1 | apt 503

2 | douchebag jar

3 | chigiri makes other friends

4 | custody battles and housewarming parties

5 | new neighbors (🎸)

6 | the death of isagi yoichi (🎸)

7 | mystery girl

8 | so you’ve met kaiser! (🎸)

9 | bambi and thumper

10 | y/n and the groupies (🎸)

11 | movie night (🎸)

12 | war flashbacks

13 | international boyfriend day

14 | noise complaint (🎸)

15 | operation thumper

16 | you’re cheating on me?! (🎸)

17 | moving?

18 | count your days

19 | loud on purpose (🎸)

20 | a day in the kaiser life (🎸)

21 | best friends, baby! (🎸)

22 | cat dads and carpools

23 | pretty girl pt 1 (🎸)

24 | pretty girl pt 2 (🎸)

25 | y/n protection squad (🎸)

26 | jealousy

27 | a night in the kaiser life (🎸)

28 | curiosity killed hello kitty

29 | names in heart tattoos (🎸)

30 | eat that girl for lunch (🎸)

31 | talk about subtle

32 | y/n the virus (🎸)

33 | piece of shit (🎸)

34 | unread text messages (🎸)

35 | i want to be loved (🎸)

36 |

37 |

38 |

39 |

40 |

taglist (CLOSED)

-> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyoo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie @ranzess @cookiesandcreammy @nevvynev @stwberri @mikeymyfav @dontmindtheevie @kaikaidenkai @mizukiblogs @ravenbc @yvanllie @cyberasterrr @lily-isalittlegirl @yourlocaleffy @hanamatopoeia

© neeeooon, 2025

[hoe4hotchner]

can i request aaron x prosecutor!reader where there's a case or smth and he's worried about her being a victim so in the middle of her preparing for an upcoming court hearing he forces her into his office. he swears it's for her safety but she's irritated and they may or may not have a little argument in front of the team 🤷🏾‍♀️

bonus if the unsub contacts her directly 👀

Overruled | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Prosecutor Fem!reader | WC: 0.8k | CW: Threats mentioned, argument, mention of death, power dynamics.

The knock on your office door was curt and authoritative. You didn’t look up from your notes, flipping through the organized chaos of case law and precedents sprawled across your desk. The highlighter cap clenched between your teeth shifted as you marked a line in a recent appellate decision, your mind already structuring the argument you would present in court.

“If it’s not an evidentiary ruling or a direct confession, I don’t have time,” you called without missing a beat, barely sparing a second to acknowledge the interruption.

The door opened anyway.

“You’re coming with me.”

That unmistakable voice had your hands freezing mid-scribble. Aaron Hotchner.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze, arching a brow. He was standing in your doorway, tie slightly loosened, his usual rigid posture even stiffer than normal. His jaw was locked, and his eyes—dark, serious, resolute—they left no room for negotiation. There was an energy about him, one you recognized as equal parts command and concern. He wasn’t here to discuss, he was here to dictate.

You exhaled through your nose, placing your pen down deliberately. “I have a hearing in less than—”

“I don’t care.”

You narrowed your eyes, fingers tightening against the polished wood of your desk. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not safe.” His voice was a low, unwavering command. “Pack up your things.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest. “Oh, that’s rich. Is this about the threats? Because unless they’ve escalated to something actionable, you know as well as I do that speculation isn’t grounds for detainment. I deal with threats all the time, Aaron. Occupational hazard.”

“This isn’t a debate, counselor,” he shot back, stepping further into the room, the movement subtle but deliberate, reinforcing his presence. “We have credible intelligence that your involvement in the Martinez case has made you a target. That’s more than enough reason to remove you from your office.”

Your fingers curled around the stack of legal briefs on your desk, grip tightening. “Credible intelligence or speculation?”

“I’m not arguing with you about this.” His tone was clipped and controlled, but you could hear the underlying frustration laced beneath his professionalism.

“Well, you’re going to have to,” you countered, standing now, matching his intensity. “Because I don’t answer to the FBI, and I sure as hell don’t answer to you, Agent Hotchner.”

Something flickered in his gaze, a fleeting flash of something you couldn’t quite place. His jaw tensed, his hands flexing at his sides as if physically restraining himself from saying something he knew he shouldn’t.

“You’re being reckless,” he ground out.

“No, I’m doing my job,” you shot back, stepping around your desk to meet him head-on. “A job that requires me to be in that courtroom tomorrow, not hidden away in protective custody like some fragile witness.”

“A job that requires you to be alive to argue it.”

The air between you crackled, the tension no longer just about your safety, but about something deeper—an unspoken battle of wills, of concern masquerading as control, of autonomy clashing with protectiveness.

And then, of course, it had to get worse.

“Uh, should we—”

You turned your head sharply at the sound of a voice, only to find the rest of the BAU team gathered near your doorway, watching the unfolding showdown with varying degrees of concern, amusement, and outright alarm.

Prentiss cleared her throat, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Should we leave you two alone, or…?”

Hotch’s jaw flexed, his already strained patience thinning. “Go back to work.”

Morgan chuckled under his breath but raised his hands in surrender, retreating with a murmured, “Man’s on a mission.”

You exhaled sharply, rubbing at your temple, frustration giving way to something more complicated.

“Aaron.”

He stiffened at the use of his first name. The team had disappeared, but the weight of the conversation remained, pressing down on both of you like an unseen force.

“I’m not asking you to like this,” he said, voice lower now, edged with something almost—pleading? “But I need you to trust me.”

Your throat tightened. You wanted to fight him on this, wanted to push back, but beneath the stubbornness was something undeniable—the quiet and insistent worry in his eyes.

“You’re going to miss my closing argument,” you muttered, trying to salvage the last shreds of control you had over this situation.

His lips pressed together, as though he were biting back the words he really wanted to say. Then, finally: “I’d rather miss it than have to give your eulogy.”

The fight drained out of you all at once. You swallowed hard. “Damn it, Aaron.”

“Pack your things.” Softer now, but no less firm.

You exhaled, shaking your head, but finally, you reached for your briefcase. The gravity of his words settled in your chest, heavier than you wanted to admit.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if I miss my hearing, you owe me dinner.”

His eyes softened just a fraction. “Done.”

[kurokawaia]

❛ NEW START ❜

PostWar!Uchiha Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.6k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW;

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) hi again!! im the one who requested for the domestic sasuke fic! so for the domestic fic i was thinking either marriage domestic fic or a post-war fic like hospital visits or catching up?? 💗 - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

You and Sasuke were kids, perhaps six or seven, fooling around the training grounds that bordered the Uchiha compound. Both of you were panting and panting it out after playing tag for a couple of hours or so, on occasion with Itachi showing up to give you both something to drink. Every match you did, Sasuke won them all. Always faster, always a step in front of you, but you never minded that. It was fun being around him, catching the rare smiles and hearing the carefree laughs. You plopped yourself down in the grass, small chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Sasuke sat beside you, his face flushed from running, but his expression calm as always. The two of you stared up at the sky, watching as the first stars started to appear. "I'm going to be the strongest shinobi," Sasuke told you with confident delicacy, as if he had decided upon it long ago. You nodded, smiling softly. "I'll be strong too… and I'll always be with you." Sasuke looked at you, his dark eyes gleaming with a rare softness. "Always?" he repeated. You nodded again this time more determinate. "Always." Then out of nowhere, you blurted, "When we grow up, we are going to get married." Sasuke blinked, clearly taken aback. "Married?" he repeated as if to wrap his head around such a concept, not truly knowing of the meaning, but he liked the notion, being with you all of the time! "Yeah," you replied though you have absolutely no idea what marriage entails. You just knew that you wanted to remain by his side, whatever it took. "That way, we'll always be together, whatever happens." Sasuke was quiet a moment longer, before giving you the barest of smiles, one that was over so fast if you had blinked, you would have missed it. "Alright," he said low enough so that his voice was barely audible above a whisper. "We're getting married." By that time, you didn't realise it, but that harmless promise promised became something you would cling to for so many years later. The only thing that brought you to believe that Sasuke will come back to the village was that he kept his promise, to be with you for all time, to marry you.

Years went by, and that innocent childhood promise was dulled when Sasuke never came back, but then, the war happened. The war had torn so much apart, but Sasuke did come back.  It had leapt in your chest when you first heard Sasuke had been brought back, injured but alive. Running to the hospital, the hope of seeing him overwhelmed your sense of caution. But getting there, he'd been asleep, unconscious from the toll the battle had taken from his body. You look at his left arm, which was now gone. What an idiot. His face was pale, his dark hair fanned out on the pillow, his arm bandaged heavily. A sight of him like that vulnerable, worn down made your heart ache. You stood at the edge of his bed, unsure what to say, your hand reaching out and stopping just shy of touching him. "I'm here, Sasuke," you whispered, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. "I never stopped waiting for you." There wasn't an answer, just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You watched him for what felt like hours, hoping maybe, just maybe, he would wake up and you could tell him everything

He didn't.

The next time you see him, the situation is quite interesting, you had asked Kakashi were Sasuke was as he wasn't in the hospital and you were told he was... elsewhere. Sasuke has been taken into custody by the Interrogation and Torture Division due to his crimes. 

They were dealing with his fate, and though they had villagers both within his support, against him, and everywhere in between, you know it wasn't going to go easy on him. You wished to see him, and with some reluctance, they allowed you to have a small visitation with him. Down the corridors of highly guarded cells, they took you, stopping at the one that housed Sasuke. 

There was that loud creaking of the opening door, and there he sat, hands bound in chakra-suppressing restraints, his head turned away from the door, he could feel it was you, it was obvious even if his eyes and arm were bound. "Sasuke." Your voice was weak, almost quivering, as you took a step closer toward him.  At first, he said nothing, hi head was angled to the ground, not waiting to face you. Then softly, almost to himself inaudibly, he added, "I'm so sorry." It took you a moment to process the words coming from his lips, as Sasuke rarely, if ever, apologized, let alone something huge as what he had pulled. You swallowed, kneeling down in front of him as your hand reached out to touch his despite the restraints. "Sasuke..." you started, your voice on the verge of breaking. "I am," he cut in, his voice now grating but still with that edge of emotion. "I need to apologize. For everything. For leaving, for hurting you, for what I've done… You could read in his posture, the weight of what he was doing and what he had done, he had hurt you so much, that he tried to kill you three times. It wasn't about the war, nor the village, literally everything, every decision he made that further distanced him from the promise you made as children. "I don't care about anything else," you said, steadiness, with the well of tears brimming in your eyes. "I care about you. You came back, Sasuke. That's all that matters." "I don't deserve it," he muttered incoherently. "That's not for you to decide," you said, your hand clenching hard around his. "We were supposed to be together, remember? No matter what. You can't just decide you don't deserve that." Then Sasuke exhaled the softest of sighs, his head bowing slightly. "I'm sorry," he said again, yet it sounded different this time, less for his guilt, more for what he had lost, for what he yet could keep.

You reached up and carefully lifted his chin so he'd look up at you, though his eyes were covered, at least his face was angled towards your own now. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "We'll figure this out. Together."

Sasukes head fell to your shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered so quietly you would have missed it if there was sound in the room.

when you two are married >.<

The sun peeks through the thin curtains of your shared bedroom. You stir slightly, your body wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets and tangled up in Sasuke. You turn your head slightly, your eyes barely open, to see him beside you. His face is relaxed in sleep, the furrow in his brow smoothed out. Sasuke peaceful, unruffled-in the home you've built together. You'd never imagined living like this, not back then, not when things were still so tenuous. His breathing evens out into a rhythm and you spend several more minutes doing nothing except staring at him. He is forever unreachable, even when he is right beside you, yet here with just the two of you, it's not quite so much the case. With you, Sasuke can be himself. You reach out, your fingertips brushing against his cheek gently, and he stirs. His eyes flicker open, revealing those eyes you've grown so accustomed to-only now, of course, with that new rinnegan you're still getting used to. For a moment, he looks disoriented-like he doesn't remember where he is-but then his gaze reaches yours and mellows out. A giggle almost slipped past your lips at the sigh as he was so cute. "Morning," you whisper, barely heard. He grunts in return-the sort of sound that makes one smile. So like him. After all this time, together, he still manages to remain the same in small ways. Sasuke isn't a morning person, at least, not when words are involved. You prop yourself up on your elbow, the blankets pooling around your waist as you lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Are you hungry?" you ask, your fingers brushing through his dark hair, still slightly tousled from sleep. He grunts again, but you can see the ghost of a smile tugging on one corner of his lips. "I'll make something," you say softly, though a part of you wants to stay in bed with him a little while longer. Before you can pull away, Sasuke's fingers wrap around your wrist in a light but firm grasp. "Stay," he mutters, his tone husky with residual sleep. You can't help but smile at the uncharacteristic plea as you settle back into the bed beside him, tucking your body close to his as he pulls you near. His arm wraps around your waist as his forehead presses against yours and the two of you are still, tangled up in one another. The silence between you is comfortable; neither of you has to say anything. Sasuke's hand moves in a languid pattern up and down your back. "I was thinking." you start off softly, breaking the silence, "perhaps we could go visit Naruto and Hinata later. It's been some time since we've seen them." Sasuke is silent for several moments, his body showing only the barest hint of tension at mention of his old comrade. Things have eased some since the war was over, but there is still a distance between them-something faint and lingering and awkward, which neither of them can quite chase away. "Maybe," he says at last, his voice low and small, not unkind. You smile, knowing that's as close to a yes as you're going to get. Progress, you tell yourself silently as you feel a surge of gratitude that Sasuke's at least willing to make the effort. It's more than you could've hoped for a few years ago. His hand resting on your back stops moving, and he shifts slightly, his lips coming into contact with your forehead. "I'll go," he says softly, which takes you a bit by surprise. You lean back just a bit to look up at him, the ghost of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Is this Sasuke Uchiha actually agreeing to willingly spend time with Naruto? He rolls his eyes at the teasing, but the barest hint of a smile tugs at his lips. "Don't push it," he mutters, the words devoid of any real bite. You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Sasuke doesn't respond to your laugh, but the way his hand tightens around your waist says enough.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

@sugu-love @why-are-you-still-awake

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik misunderstands Soap's call sign. Ends up in a little heart to heart with Gaz.

CW: none.

They're back at base after a particularly gnarly jaunt through the arse end of the world. Ghost has his arm in a sling, Soap's battered, Price has an ice pack against his lower back, and Gaz has a black eye and lost a molar after taking a rifle butt to the jaw during a scuffle. Nik's sitting rosey for the most part; his bird has a few extra bullet holes but he'd soon patch those up.

They end up in the hanger after medical has finished with them, too exhausted even to drag their arses to bed. They pass around a bottle of Ghost's bourbon, while Nik and Price share a cigar. They're sitting in companionable silence, reflecting on how close they'd come to a six foot and a half wooden box planted in the only bit of real estate they'd ever be able to afford on an army salary, and then...

"Nik," Soap says as he swirls the bourbon around in its bottle, "s'yer call sign, aye? Not yer birth name."

"Da," Nik replies, offering nothing more as he exhales a cloud of smoke and passes the cigar over his shoulder to Price. They're sitting back to back, because it lets Price keep the ice pack in place without holding it, no other reason.

Soap relinquishes the bottle into Gaz's custody and sniffs, leaning back on his palms, legs thrown across at the ankle. "Where's it come from?"

"It is from Nikolai Krasnov. He was a hero fighter pilot in the Second World War. Four hundred sorties, one hundred aerial battles and forty-one enemies shot down," Nik considers the tumbler of vodka in front of him; he doesn't drink bourbon because it gives him heartburn, "also Nikolai Gastello, Nikolai Gusarov... All awarded highest honours. It is a name with, what do you say, a pedigree."

"That's pretty cool, N--" Gaz starts, but Soap scoffs, taking the bourbon back.

"Mate, n'aw, that's proper old man that is. Yer half way t' watchin' the History Channel on a recliner."

Nik raises an eyebrow. "Is better than all of you."

"Oh aye?"

"Da. Price is Bravo-Six because he is boring," Nik says, and Price nods solemnly, clearly a little banjaxed on a combination of the vodka Nik is sharing with him and the bourbon that crosses his path every now and then. Nik gestures at Ghost. "He is Ghost, which is like a James Bond novel villain, no?" Ghost's eyes flicker, "Gaz is new... He gets a pass--"

"Cheers, Nik."

"--you are welcome sergeant, and you," Nik points two fingers at Soap, "you are Soap because you are the lieutenant's bottom."

Soap sprays bourbon through his nose, Gaz barks a laugh and then creases over in stitches, and Price chokes on the lungful of cigar smoke he's halfway through. Ghost pinches his nose through his mask.

"Fuckin' hell, Nik, I can't--I can't breathe!" Gaz rolls onto his back, arms clasped over his abdomen.

Soap blusters. "Oh aye, feckin hilarious. How'd ye figure that one out then?"

"When your diet is as bad as yours, there is a need to--"

"Nik! Tha's not--I mean, me and him, how'd'ye get that in yer heid?"

Nik glances between Soap and Ghost like they're pulling one over on him. "The flirting over the radio, you are always together, you are grumpy when apart, you--Captain, you--"

Price blows a puff of smoke towards the roof of the hanger and passes the remains of the cigar over his shoulder. "Nope, nah," he flaps a hand, hiccups, and rolls onto his front like he's about to low-crawl his way out. "You're on your own 'ere, mate, urgh, fuck... Need a slash... then bed."

"Coward," Nik huffs.

"Yep." Price stumbles to his feet, nearly nuts the tail of the helicopter they're sitting near, and hobbles away with a quiet groan, leaving Nik to face down a red-eared Soap and a stoic Ghost; Gaz is cackling into the bottle of bourbon.

"Nah, he's right, time to call it a night. We're up at 0600 for a debrief," Ghost says finally.

Nik frowns. "Lieutenant, I am sorry if I have offended. I have clearly misread the situation, and--"

"Soap got his call sign because he's good at cleaning house; he's quick, accurate," Ghost rolls to his feet with remarkable grace considering his injury and the volume of bourbon currently in his bloodstream, "besides, I would bottom. I have impeccable gut health."

Soap barks a laugh. "Eh, good one, L.T.." Ghost looks at him; it's a lingering, rather hungry gaze that stretches a little beyond their usual homoerotic banter, but he says nothing and turns before Soap can fully digest it. Soap's smile vanishes into wide-eyed bewilderment, and he stumbles to his feet, calling after Ghost with one outstretched hand. "Oi, sir... Ye... Sir, for real? Was that a--? L.T., wait up. Sir!"

Gaz and Nik watch them leave, and once Ghost's plentiful arse and Soap's flailing self are out of sight, Gaz grins. "Hollow points, RVs and relationships, best fixer in the biz. Well played."

Nik grins back and they clink their bottles together. "It was too good an opportunity."

"Excellent form, mate. Is there anythin' you can't fix?"

Nik hums as he swigs his vodka, glancing towards the door that Price had vanished through moments prior. Gaz sighs. "Oh yeah, how's it going with the captain? You taken him on a date yet?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Mate, mate, being between you two when it's just us three on ops is cringe. Not quite as bad as them," Gaz juts his chin after Ghost and Soap, "but fuck me, I could puke."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. You're an open book. Captain Oblivious needs to open his eyes. Could shoot a gnat's bollocks off at a thousand metres but he misses you chasing his tail like a puppy. It's insane."

Nik huffs. "I have asked Laswell for advice."

"Oh yeah? I bet she loved that."

"She has said he has a phrase... What is it, 'you should not shit where you eat'," Nik says sadly.

"Oof, yeah, that sounds like Price," Gaz pats Nik on the back of the shoulder, "so, what? Calling off the mission?"

"Nyet, never. I am Russian; the pining and heartbreak, it is all part of the romance. But I will only take a happy ending, no tragedy. Price will be mine."

Gaz laughs. "Fair," he raises his bottle in a toast, "to romance and happy endings."

Nik meets Gaz's bottle. "Of all kinds, my brother." He wriggles his eyebrows and Gaz cracks up cackling again.

[redr0sewrites]

Could u do a Alastor x gn s/o where reader is Lucifer's eldest Child. Like luci knew his kid was seeing someone but he didn't know it was Alastor?

How would Alastor react to finding out his s/os dad is actually luci and luci finding out al is seeing his eldest child??

yesss ofc! this is such a silly req hehe

🥀Cw: fluff, demi alastor, silly antics, lucifer and alastor bickering as per usual

when you told your father you had a new boyfriend, Lucifer was insanely excited

he immediately wanted to meet him and learn everything about him, not in an overprotective way, but moreso in an excited, sweet way

im imagining this all is happening after lucifer and alastor had their silly little custody battle over charlie, which you witnessed ofc

so you are obviously a little bit awkward about formerly introducing them

Lucifer obviously doesn't know ALASTOR is the person you're dating, but i think alastor would figure out lucifer is your father pretty quickly after luci arrived at the hotel for the first time

i mean, he tackled both you and charlie in a hug, and alastor knew that you and charlie were siblings, so it didn't take long to connect the dots

alastor probably asked you about it, which led to a slightly awkward yet civil conversation

i think alastor would be a little less petty with lucifer afterwards for your sake, even though lucifer doesn't know that the both of you are dating yet

when it comes to the actual introduction, you're probably pretty nervous

alastor makes sure to reassure you that he (probably) won't make a scene

and you make your father promise the same thing (much to his confusion)

the meeting itself is probably hella awkward, but lucifer and alastor will keep it as civil as possible for your sake

they both love you, and they both want you to be happy

alastor knows how important your father is to you, and knows how much you want him to approve of the both of you

lucifer knows how responsible you are, and trusts you to choose someone that will make you happy, and he just wants to be involved in your life and make sure you're safe and happy too

overall, their individual love for you overcomes their rivalry and they might even end up bonding over how much they care about you

"alright dad, i'm gonna need you to promise that you won't be.... crazy, okay?" you sigh, standing in front of the doorway to the room where alastor was waiting. "of course not! sure, most sinners are like, the worst, but heeyyyyyy who am i to judge? if he makes you happy than im happy!" lucifer nudges you, a wide smile on his face. "if you say so.." you take a deep breath, slowly opening the door. the door swings open, revealing alastor standing in the center of the room. immediately, lucifer bursts out laughing. "ha! great joke sweetie, that's hilarious!" he throws his head back in laughter, and alastor's eye visibly twitches. a few seconds pass of lucifers laughter until suddenly he pauses, looking at your strained expression. "wait. you aren't kidding." with a sigh, you motion for alastor to come closer and you step away from your father to link arms with alastor, whos grin widened ever so slightly.

"dad, i'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, alastor. alastor, this is, uh, my dad. you two, uh, y'know, might know eachother..." an awkward beat of silence passes as the two men glare at eachother. finally, alastor breaks the silence. "well, this is certainly a surprise, isn't it?" static buzzed at the edges of his voice, and you squeezed his arm in a mix of appreciation and reassurance. "well, i'll say! i hope for your sake that you're treating my precious child well!" lucifer replies curtly, sticking out his hand for alastor to shake. you can sense alastors apprehension, but you're pleasantly surprised when he shakes your father's hand anyway. "i can assure you, they are in the best of care," alastor sneered, pulling his hand away and wiping it on his jacket. lucifer huffed, but remained calm. you got the feeling that it would remain like this for a while.

after the meeting, alastor stepped away to head up to your shared bedroom to allow you to have a quick chat with your father. as soon as alastor left, lucifer pulled you close. "are you sure about him, duckie? you know i approve of any choice you make but isn't he a bit.. dangerous?" with a sigh, you take both of your fathers hands. "i know he isn't your favorite person, but just give him a chance, okay? he may be... well, a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord, but hes really a gentleman at heart, and he treats me well. i promise you, dad, everything will be fine. i just need you to trust me on this one, okay?" lucifer sighs, pulling you into a teary hug. "they grow up so fast..." he sniffled, and you chuckle. soon, lucifer turns and leaves, waving goodbye and teleporting away. closing the door behind him, you turn, finding yourself face to face with alastor. you both look into eachothers eyes for a few seconds, and you take a few deep breaths. "i would say that went pleasantly!" alastor grins, donning his usual smile. "it would have gone better if you hadn't been trying to one-up him the whole time!" you tease, chuckling as alastor raises a brow at you.

suddenly, he grabs your waist, gently twirling you around and pulling you into a slow waltz. "sadistic cannibal, hm? glad you think so highly of me, my dear." alastors usual grin softens, and you giggle. "oh, shut up, you! i was defending you!" as he spins you both to a stop, he raises your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to uour knuckles. you smile, cupping his face with your free hand. "thank you for trying tonight, al. it means a lot to me. you both mean a lot to me, and you don't have to be friends with him, but i'm just grateful that you kept it civil." a soft static fills the air, but not in a menacing way. the static melts into a soothing jazz tune, and alastor uses his cane to pull you in close as he cups your cheek. "anything for you, my dear. now, lets head to bed, hm?" you nod, gently kissing the hand on your cheek and linking arms as you both head to the bedroom.

OK THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE AND FOR WHAT?????? IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING A HOT MINUTE ON THIS NONNIE, DIALOGUE IS HARD AUGHESHEH GENTLE ALASTOR MY BELOVED>>>>>>>>>

[peridotglimmer]

.

My ex is playing the victim card over and over, but it seems she can't keep me from seeing my son. Looks like I might be able to see him within 2 weeks.

[diejager]

Hi i love all your stepdad konig and dbf horangi stories🩷 I wanted to ask if you could do a follow up on the pregnancy story where the reader gives births to twins(boy nd girl) and she ends up moving out to this big penthouse with horangi that he and konig paid for,,,,i dont know if thats too much this is my first time requesting,,again you're really amazing and talented🩷💕

Cw: forced pregnancy, DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, child birth, kidnapping, isolation, threat of taking custody, forced marriage, mention of divorce, tell me if I missed any,

Pregnancy was a stressful thing, weighing on your conscience and body, it was a difficult affair for any mother, but yours especially, with your underlying living condition and situation. You provided your baby - babies, you learned after your first ultrasound, seeing two small embryos curled inside your womb - with nourishment, time and energy, your time wasting away to keep them safe and alive, supporting two lives in your womb rather than one. That put a bigger strain on your health, adding to your stress and terror —a bigger risk to your life and theirs.

You doubted your life could get any harder than it was, the constant touching, the fussing, the looming and the shadowing would eventually get to you, but what you hadn’t expected was for König to hold them against you. You should have, honestly, looking back to their streak of cruelty and selfishness, expected that one of them would hold your sweet babies’s custody over you to have you bend to their will.

Who would side with a young and broken mother when she had a strong and more mature father to nurture the kids, retired and respected by his old coworkers and bosses. They would win this battle over their custody, taking away your little rays of sunshine in your dark times, the ones who held your fingers in their soft and tiny hands when you cried at night and their coos making you smile. They were products of rape, a physical proof of your mistreatment, you knew that, but you loved them so, so much.

Your little girl and little boy were everything you would’ve asked for, quiet and easy to manage, they were good kids, even at six months old. You would take care of them on your own if you could, you knew you could be a good mother if you had the chance, but König and Horangi didn’t give you much time. They would take your angels away if you didn’t agree to marry one of them. It was a cruel act of power and sheer dominance, showing you what they could do to have you submit without actually acting on it.

You lost contact with your mom, your last memory of her was her frantic and tearful ramble, locking all doors and trying to do her best to separate the men from you, trying her best to build a shield between you three. She tried her best to protect you and your babies from them, but they had connection, power and a name for themselves, there was little she or you could do against determined men.

That was the last time you saw her, your contacts with the outside world controlled by your two wardens, anything had to go through them in case of dangers towards you and the twin. You lived in a gilded cage, a pretty penthouse and a cabin in the Austrian Alps, a comfortable bed, and a relaxed lifestyle. It was all any person would give to have - a life you dreamed to live - if you weren’t forcefully married to two men, uprooted from your home and taken away to be locked up at the top of a building.

The light in this dark situation was that the twins would have a comfortable life, living a life of luxury without getting spoiled if you taught them right, if you watched them grow up with a strict but fair way. You wouldn’t want them growing up as selfish and cruel as their fathers, your adorable Yoon-Suh with her blue eyes and black mop of hair, and your excitable Leon with his auburn hair and warm, brown eyes. They were your sole priority.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess

[intersexbookclub]

A lot of thoughts on Just Ash (contains spoilers)

Our book pick for November 2024 was the 2021 YA coming-of-age novel Just Ash by intersex author Sol Santana. We met on 2024-11-29, and it gave us a lot to talk about in terms of intersex representation!

The book features a main character, Ash, who has CAH and has been raised as a boy, and identifies as a boy. When Ash hits puberty and starts to physically become androgynous, he starts getting bullied at school. His mother, who always wanted a daughter, forcibly transitions Ash to live as a girl. Cue tons of gender dysphoria. 😭 Ash winds up in hospital due to all the stress, and runs away to live with his older sister. The sister affirms Ash’s masculinity and lets him retrotransition back to being a boy. 🥳 A custody battle ensues.

Upfront PSA: Santana’s definition of intersex (which she provides in the author notes) is exclusionist. 🚨 She does not include hormonal variations in her definition of intersex. It is effectively a dogwhistle that Santana does not accept PCOS hyperandrogenism as intersex. This goes against every major intersex organization’s understanding of what intersex is, and against the consensus of the community as a whole. While we thought the book has plenty of strengths, anybody picking it up should know that Santana’s definition of intersex is not representative of the intersex community. 👎️

Overall impressions

Michelle (@scifimagpie): This book was like really speedrunning the emotional processing of really intricate intersex issues. It was a rougher read but I couldn't put it down. It felt very authentic for a very young prickly teenage boy. Also, the adults sucked in this book and I was here for it. 👍️👍️

Elizabeth: Mixed feelings! This book needed so many CWs at the front, but I think it also handled the violence with care - it didn’t feel gratuitous, just unflinchingly realistic. Rough, but done on purpose, and it helped a lot that Ash was given so many other things to do than suffer. I felt like it did a good job of illustrating how gender is very complicated for many intersex people. But it also had an intermedicalist vibe that I didn’t appreciate. 🤨

Bnuuy: Overall positive impression! 👍️ Liked how Ash was a Ash as an example of positive masculinity. More cis guys should read this book. The book highlights a lot of intersections between queer & intersex issues. I only read half but agree that many things need CWs.

Rylee (@goingrampant): it was kind of intense, it was a thriller. I really want people on Tumblr to read this book. 🙌  "AFAB trans woman" has become a hot button phrase where perisex trans women have decided that it's not a valid term, and have gotten very intersexist dying on that hill. This book does a good job showing what it looks like to be an (intersex) AMAB trans man. 👍️

Feral: I’ve found a lot of perisex trans people don’t really get that we intersex folks can be assigned a gender at birth & still be denied actual access to that gender & can end up with both masculine and feminine gender expectations…. while also being denied genuinely being either gender. 🙃 So I think this would potentially be a good book for helping people understand some ways that this can happen without real people’s trauma having to be turned into a Teaching Moment™. 👍️

Remy: I cant believe they managed to misdirect me so that I didn’t predict that twist at the end! 👍️

The intersex representation: initial thoughts

Things that felt very real to us: the part where the intersex group were told they couldn’t participate in a parade. 😭 How Ash’s parents reacted to Ash’s intersexness. 😬

Remy praised how it acknowledges intersex kids oppression without being in conflict with (perisex) trans kids’ oppression! 🩷

Rylee thinks that this book should be read by perisex folks (both trans and cis) who are confused or resistant to the idea that intersex people can be both cisgender and transgender at the same time  should read this book. It’s good for building empathy with cistrans folks, and it illustrates how Ash is M-to-F-to-M. A lot of times when trans people run across that kind of language, they they think that it's some kind of abusive right wing distortion of trans identity (e.g. weaponizing detransitioning). The book shows how Ash was assigned male at birth and identified with that, and then being reassigned as female, and then pushing against that, and how it made him both cisgender and transgender.

Elizabeth agreed that this would be helpful for perisex allies to read, because too often the only times they talk about intersex is to demonstrate sex is socially constructed. This book illustrates how we have so many gender issues that are relevant to trans discussions that tend to be underappreciated by perisex trans folks, like mistransitioning and retransitioning, and how AGAB should not be confused for socially imposed gender.

However, Elizabeth also felt that anybody picking up the book should also know that the book is exclusionist about who is intersex, and that the intersex community is actually quite unanimous that hormonal variations belong in the community. Santana is unusual for being resistant to this inclusion, and it was a common gripe with the book. 👎️

We liked how matter-of-fact the discussion of genital difference was, but there were times it seemed to undercut the message about masculinity and gender.

The book had a happy ending. While it was outright wish fulfillment in many regards, it was hard to be mad about it, because we just need more queer joy in our lives.

The Forced Gender Transition

We all agreed it was painful watching Ash's gender be repeatedly denied. Bnuuy pointed out that even though physicians keep claiming to be The Ultimate Authority on how gender works, they actually can’t agree on which gender some people (like Ash) are.

We all agreed it also made for an effective illustration of how intersex gender issues are just different than perisex, trans issues. Intersex is messy, and oftentimes our genders don’t really fit with what perisex trans people are used to. Too many trans people expect trans people to be clearly either transmasculine or transfeminine (and maybe transneutral), and it’s important to have representation of people (intersex or perisex) who do not fit into these neat boxes. 🏳️‍⚧️

Even when the book highlights how intersex gender issues are different from perisex trans issues, it still also speaks to common ground experienced by both groups. Both groups are frequently forced to undergo a puberty that they don’t want, to have to live under a socially imposed gender they don’t want. The reasons or mechanisms may vary, but being forcefully kept in a gender you don’t want to be in is such an important common ground.

Bnuuy pointed out that often when intersex gender issues are contrasted with perisex trans issues, what actually happens is perisex transness is understood only as binary perisex transness.

Feral praised how the school requiring Ash to use the staff bathroom was presented as a bad thing. It also liked when Ash points out that state law would require the school to let him use the boy’s bathroom if he was a trans boy, and the principal dismisses that by saying that Ash isn’t trans. It was a good way to highlight that while intersex people pretty much always get harmed by anti-trans laws & policies whether we’re explicitly targeted or not, we don’t necessarily get protections just because of the experience overlap if we aren’t explicitly named in the laws protecting trans people.

Rylee felt more conflicted about this, pointing out that Ash seemed angry/bitter about the (perisex) trans community, and while that’s relatable to many intersex people, it could have been handled more deftly.

Salt Wasting for Plot Reasons

So, Ash winds up in the hospital after having to live as a girl for an extended period of time. The hospitalization is clearly a plot device to get Ash out of the forced gender situation. And what Santana does is give Ash a very rare version of salt-wasting CAH that has incredibly gone undetected until he is in high school. For us this felt improbable, and it also felt unnecessary, because…

Giving Ash an eating disorder would have been far more realistic, and would have accomplished the same plot device. 🫤

Eating disorders are unfortunately very common among intersex & trans folks and it would have been productive to see that representation (especially for a masculine character!). It felt extra frustrating that Santana chose one of the very few intersex variations that gives people health problems. Feelings about that were mixed: we don’t want intersex to be pathologized, but it is also useful for people to know that some intersex variations like salt-wasting CAH do come with health concerns to be aware of.

One of the reasons that a few of us expected an eating disorder plot was how Ash was fatphobic to one of his friends, and ED hospitalization would set up a discussion of that. Instead, the fatphobia was left unaddressed.

The Clinician Interactions

A few of us felt that the way the physicians in the book were presented came off more as intersex fantasy than intersex reality. Too many of the physicians knew too much about intersex for it to feel realistic to us. In general, physicians in the book were also very respecting of informed consent in a way that also did not line up with own experiences of intersex-related health care. Positioning clinicians as advocates/allies just didn’t really feel realistic to us. 🙃

The fact that the clinicians in the book used the word intersex, rather than the extremely pathologizing and reactionary term “DSD” was appreciated. 💜 But it also contributed to the sense the book was writing a fantasy of how the author wants intersex patients to be treated, rather than how we actually are.

But on the other side of things, there is value in fantasy. More physicians should know more about intersex, and treat their intersex patients better! Intersex folks should expect better of our physicians than abject abuse and violent gender policing (even if that expectation is earned).

Bnuuy pointed out that this book had so many other common forms of trauma (sexual violence, abusive parents, bullying) that maybe it’s good to not also add medical trauma on top of it all? 

To a few of us, the medical accuracy felt superficial. Bnuuy described it as “like reading Wikipedia” - like the author had only really read medical texts about this extremely specific variant of CAH, rather than talking to people with this variation.

There were a couple of experiential things that Santana nailed! Like the scene where Ash is in the hospital and the physician is talking to Ash’s parents as though Ash isn’t there. This felt real to us. 💜

There is a point in the book where Ash’s family doctor retires and he gets a new one, and the discontinuity in care is a tension for him. This also felt realistic. Feral in particular related to how to this doctor immediately going into talking about puberty & assuming that pregnancy is something that he’d want & that he’d want his penis removed.

The Intermedicalist Vibes 

We were kind of unimpressed by how the physicians were lionized both in the book and the acknowledgments. Again, we think there’s value in role modeling better care for clinician readers. But it was just a little too ego-fawning for our tastes. 🧐

A bunch of us felt the book had intermedicalist vibes not just because of how the clinicians were presented, but how the intersex community was represented. 🧐 The book has several intersex characters, that Ash meets through a local intersex support group. Rather than highlight the wide variety of intersex variations, Santana is extremely consistent about only ever representing intersex as involving genital differences. 🫤

Santana explicitly defines intersex as the following: ““Intersex” encompasses a broad spectrum of genital and chromosomal conditions that fall outside the accepted sex binary.” - it is important for readers to know this is an exclusionist definition of intersex. Santana is very tellingly omitting hormonal variations from her definition of intersex. This goes against how every major intersex organization defines intersex, and it goes against the norms of the intersex community. 😡

Variations like PCOS-hyperandrogenism are intersex, and Santana is undermining the intersex community by instead deferring to how physicians define intersex. We were unimpressed, and it is a reason some of us are hesitant to recommend the book.

This said, Feral felt that the twist at the end of the book helped reduced the intermedicalist vibe: it showed how when intersex people hold intermedicalist views, it can hurt them.

The Parental Abuse

The parental abuse in this book felt very real to us, and many of us related to one or more aspects of it. Ash’s father was physically abusive. Ash’s mother was emotionally immature and abusive. As one participant put it: “it was a a fork twist in my stomach because it was familiar.” 😭

Feral praised the parts about Ash’s father seeing Ash being intersex as a personal failing, and a reflection on him as a man & father. It was very relatable and Feral has noticed a lot of perisex people assume that parents are (more) accepting of intersex since it can’t be seen as a choice, and so “I liked seeing the portrayal of how toxic masculinity ties into how some fathers treat their intersex children.”

While Ash very quickly wrote off his father for being physically abusive, it took him longer to realize his mother was also abusive, and this felt realistic. Feral brought up: “There’s a part where [Ash’s sister] is talking about the difference between their parents & she says ‘I thought mom was the good parent’ because her abuse was more subtle & based in manipulation rather than physical & screaming like their father is, and I really enjoyed it showing how sometimes abuse that seems lesser on a surface level can end up doing just as much or more damage psychologically.” 

We appreciated how Ash coming to terms with what he experienced was abused was not drawn out. As Remy put it: “I've read a lot of books on trauma and convincing the reader that what they experienced was abuse, so just kind of gotten what I needed from those plots.”

We liked the parallel between Ash’s mother refusing to believe that Ash’s sister is a lesbian, and her refusing to believe that Ash knows his gender.

Rylee mused that if Ash hadn’t been abused at home, he might have stood up for himself more. 🤔

The Custody Fight

Given how much effort Santana appeared to put into trying to make the health stuff accurate, it was surprising to us how implausible the custody fight felt. Ash never meets with a lawyer. His sister’s lawyer never sits him down to talk about his options or to prepare him for court. 🧐

Emancipation is never even mentioned as an option. This felt like a lost opportunity: for any intersex teenager reading this book who is in a similar situation, they should know this is a path that exists. It may not be an easy or viable path, but it’s one they should talk to a lawyer about. Again, including a conversation with Ash’s sister’s lawyer - e.g. “I recommend we try for [sister] to have custody since emancipation has these hurdles….” would have both bolstered the plausibility of the custody fight and spread useful information.

Once again, the book’s acknowledgements were discussed: Santana sought advice from physicians on the medical accuracy, but no lawyers are acknowledged as such. 🙃

Remy brought up how this book illustrates how children’s rights are vital to intersex rights, highlighting this passage: "It doesn’t matter,” Miss Marbury said, “because we still live by a system that considers the convenience of the parents before the well-being of the child. Until that changes, kids in your position have to deal with a lot of hardships.” I appreciated this spelling out of the issue. 🩷

The fact that the custody battle is resolved by Ash extorting his mother got mixed reactions. Elizabeth felt it was not a great moral. In contrast, Remy cheered: Ash got himself out of an unsafe situation, and dirty tactics are sometimes needed for this. Feral and Rylee pointed out that Ash gave his mother a choice.

Miscellaneous thoughts

The repeated references to the Salem witch trials got mixed reactions. There’s an apoliticized history of the witch trials that conveniently leaves out how these were intentionally antifeminist, pro-capitalist, and anti-Indigenous, that this book definitely is steeped in this apoliticized history of them.

Michelle liked how the character Ariel wasn’t a “palatable” character, as xe feels like they know that person.

Rylee pointed out that the name Ash Bishop is probably an allusion to the Alien franchise.

Who should read this book?

We spent a bunch of time talking about what circumstances we would and would not recommend this book. Elizabeth said ze’d only recommend it to folks who already know Intersex 101 and would understand this book is exclusionist. Elizabeth wants intermedicalists to read this book, because intersex people who are very insistent that sex != gethinnder can be very invalidating to those of us who are intergender, and ze thinks the book meets these people where they are.

We generally agreed that Power to Yield and Cattywampus make for better “first” intersex books for people to read. Remy argued this book was more nuanced than Across the Green Grass Fields, and would put it roughly in that tier of book that help move the needle but maybe don’t do everything right.

Feral shared: “This is the first intersex focused fiction I’ve read so I can’t compare it, but while I definitely wouldn’t want this to be someone’s entire idea of intersex experience, I do think this would be good for giving people an idea of what intersexism can look like, especially for perisex trans people who don’t quite get the complicated issues with gender & identity that can happen when you’re intersex & that gender assignment & expectations aren’t clear cut.”

We talked about the pressure on intersex books to “do it all” - if a reader only reads one intersex book, to ensure that all of the important points are made and no mixed messages are sent. 😵‍💫 It also puts a pressure on authors to talk more about trauma, to ensure that people know the issues we face, but people always aren’t up for doing the literary equivalent of eating their vegetables. We want and deserve more fun intersex books. (This was definitely a “eat your vegetables” book.)

We talked about trauma porn, and how literary awards tend to reward the textual equivalent of Oscar Bait, and how too much intersex literature (especially by perisex authors) is just trauma porn.

Even though this book had a ton of trauma in it, this book didn’t feel like trauma porn to us. Ash was given so much stuff to do other than suffer. The plot was well paced, didn’t dwell any longer than needed on traumatic events. As Michelle put it: “it focuses on the trauma and not the sensationalization.” Bnuuy pointed out that unlike trauma porn, which isolates people from community and resources, this book illustrated how finding and going to intersex organizations can be a hugely positive impact on one’s life as an intersex person. 💜

The character Thomas is presented as a foil to Ash – he’s also intersex, yet has parents who are accepting and affirming. Feral pointed out that Thomas’ inclusion was another thing that kept the book from feeling like trauma porn. 💜

We all agreed this book makes for a very good example of how to cover a lot of trauma yet still be very caring of the reader! 👍️

Final thoughts

We noticed that the acknowledgments section only acknowledged intersex people that Santana seems to consume the content of (i.e. para-social relationships), rather than any bi-directional acknowledgements (i.e. thank you for your feedback on the draft). This is always a bit of a red flag for us, and we hope that Santana has since gotten more connected to the intersex community! Being an intersex author does not mean you should skip on having other intersex people read your drafts 💜

We all hoped that Santana gets/has gotten quality feedback about the exclusionist, intermedicalist vibes; and that this isn’t the last book she writes on intersex!

[pigeonpeach]

Who knew Dragons were competitive?

Navia VS Neuvillete!

The prize: you!

Cw: fem reader. Reader is implied to have some killer knockers, boobs. Short

Oh you were such a delicate little sight. You worked closely with Navia. You listened for intel and kept track of gossip. You were a pair of ears for her. But also a pretty sight to look at. It wasn’t uncommon she’d spend a entire conversation just looking at your body or eyeing you down. You didn’t really mind either. Besides Navia is a good choice for a partner, with her influence no one would dare to mess with you. You we’re studying to become a lawyer so working with her was good practice and looked good on your resume! You two were closer than some might expect. You two went shopping for clothes and often helped with makeup and wardrobe issues.

But apparently you had also gained the attention of the Iudex Neuvillete. When you successfully defended a client apparently word is he spent he trail gazing upon your… body? You didn’t trust such sources. But you did recieve a invite to discuss things with him. Apparently he wanted to talk to you about something? It didn’t seem to make much sense, but hey, its good for your reputation if Neuvillete himself is requesting your attendance.

The entire conversation was mostly just a simple talk though. You couldn’t help but notice him occasionally looking down at your knockers. Clearing his throat repeatedly and often requesting more water. He offered you a position at the Palais Memorial and you said you would go over your options.

Although now both your current employer and possibly future one seem to be in some bitter rivalry. Navia often takes you out more requesting your presence and doubling our pay. You were quite surprised but not against it. She seemed to show you off almost, linking your arm with hers. Even sitting you in her lap at one point. Meanwhile you constantly get letters from Neuvillete often asking you out to… lunch? A casual meal? His treat? You can’t say no.

Its pretty clear now they’re competing for your love but your still debating which is the best option. Navia the woman willing to do anything possible and would advocate for you on anything! Rules or not. Or the mysterious Iudex who’s adopted an entire race and is very cordial? Oh a difficult choice indeed. You just wanted to make alot of money too! But now your life and hand in marriage is in of itself a show many seemed interested in. With Melus and Silver also trying to sway you to pick Navia, the Melusines always praising Neuvillete to you, and Furina who is just living for the drama.

Perhaps you’ll need to hire a lawyer for yourself before they end up having a custody battle over you!

[meiluu]

Fight Our Battles

Peter Parker/ Female!Reader cw: Violence, reader gets hurt, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, fluff. lower-case intended, not edited can be viewed as any spider-man, but i personally imagined ps4/ps5 peter

what had started out as a regular saturday, with you and peter swinging through new york like any typical patrol around the city turned into something much more than either of you were ready for.

green goblin had escaped from the raft and was causing mayhem within the city, fires and ominous clouds of smoke and ash begin to engulf the city. and here you and peter are trying to get people to safety as well as deal with the goblin.

"Go after him! I've got the civilians!" peter whips his head to your direction, about to argue and say that you both need to stick together. shaking your head "I've got this go! I trust you spider-man!" your tone is final and peter reluctantly leaves you to pursue the goblin.

watching his retreating figure you focus your mind onto what's in front of you. webbing up unstable buildings, pulling people from fiery cars and rubble. stopping for moment to catch your breath you realize that this area is finally okay enough for you to leave it as first responders finally make it to the scene. using your in-suit tracker you quickly find peters location and hastily begin swinging your way there.

getting to peter your eyes immediately catch onto his much more battered form, there are cuts across his chest and through his emblem. but he seems to have the upper hand- having cornered goblin into a abandoned area of construction. quickly shooting a web you swing in, landing a harsh kick to the goblins face.

an enraged roar leaves him as his mask is flung off-wobbling on his glider. Then you see two webs sticking to either side of the goblin, and just as you see those webs you see peter slingshotting himself feet first into the goblins chest. the concrete behind him cracks and the goblin tumbles to the ground, his glider crumbling along with him.

with the goblins figure staying slumped upon the ground both your and peters shoulders slump in relief and exhaustion. then the sound of police sirens filter into the air as dozens of cop cars pull up, ready to detain the menace. "I have some of the anti-serum for him, its not permanent but maybe it'll help with keeping him in custody." peter voice is tired, as he makes his way over to you as you both scan each other for any lethal injuries. nodding you head you watch as peter begins to head towards a vial that was resting upon the ground. you suspected it had gotten flung out of his hand while he fought with the goblin.

then your senses begin screaming at you, BEHIND YOU!

you barely make out peters terrified scream of your name before the disgusting crazed green eyes of the goblin look up at you from the ground with one of his miniature bombs in his hand. then its dark.

~

the familiar sound of air whooshing past your ears along with searing hot pain across your abdomen is what wakes you from your sleep. "pete?" your words are moaned out in pain and confusion. "yeah its me- just hang on we are almost to the hospital. just stay awake for me please." your heart clenches at how desperate peter's voice is, you can do nothing but nod and bury your head further into his chest- hoping that the pain would go away if you did.

peters feet thump heavily into the ground when he finally lands in front of one of the hospitals in new york that was getting not as flooded with survivors from the attacks. and your heart clenches again at peter voice shouting out for help, "i need a doctor, please!"

there voices start to fade out, you catch how peter voice is a near roar as someone tries pulling off your mask. and it sounds like that person is then shoved away by what you assumed was dozens of nurses, he tells them to leave on your mask- but it sounded more like a command. the softness of a bed greets your back, peter having set you onto a gurney. nurses are putting an iv as the quickly roll you further into the hospital- eyes lids growing heavy you succumb to the sleep, hoping that when you awake the pain will be gone.

~

peter's pov.

if not for the mask every one within the waiting room would see my tears flowing feely down my face.

god how did i not realize the goblin wasn't knocked out, why didn't i web him up- how could i be so careless!?

and now you were in the operating room, were i hoped with all of being that you would be saved. looking down to my hands that lay limp to my sides i see- your blood smeared into the red of my suit. biting my lip to snuff out the sob that threatens to escape me. why wasn't it him who got hurt? why was it always someone else taking the blows for him?

i don't know how long i just stood there staring down the hallway that lead towards the operating room with you in it. but eventually the doctor how had pushed away that asshole who tried taking off your mask earlier- and had quickly let me know that he would be operating on you- made his way towards me.

quickly walking towards him, his face isn't sad or drafted instead a hopefully expression takes up his face. "she's ok, no major internal injuries surprisingly, but she has a bunch of stitches and will need to stay here for-" i don't let him finish before i'm tugging him into hug, "thank you, i don't- i, just thank you so much."

a soft laugh leaves the doctor, "with what you two do for this city everyday, there's no need for thanks. i should be thank you both for all the good you've done for this city and its people." stepping back from the hug a chuckle leaves me, "i guess we're at an impasse doc... but um- where is she?" he quickly gives me her room number, then i'm running there.

getting to your room, i see you. sleeping peacefully with your mask still covering your face, walking closer towards the bed i sit down in one of the spare chairs within the room. grasping your hand into mine my body finally begins to lighten as all of the accumulated stress begins to pour off of me. and with the comforting sound of your steady breathing i let myself drift off.

~

reader pov.

its been a few weeks since the goblins attack upon new york, his final one- with him succumbing to his wounds after setting off that miniature bomb. most of my stitches have been taken out and there only remains a very small scar from that day. and with the city repairing itself me and pete have taken a bit of a break from spider-maning... mainly because i needed to recover and peter hasn't want to leave my side. which i'm not complaining about but i can see how much that day hurt peter, though with each day that passes i see that darkness lighten.

and today i continue with that goal of lessening that darkness, having slept in with peter cuddled in your shared bed. gently i brush my fingers through his soft brown locks, "good morning pete." he buries his head deeper into my chest, you can feel him smile against your skin. "i think we are well past morning." an ouch leaves him with my pinch against the skin of his shoulder. "so technical." my tone teasing, a soft kiss is place against the side of my neck as peter raises his head to meet my gaze. beautiful hazel eyes that hold nothing but adoration within them. "good morning." sleep still hold onto his voice making it a bit huskier than normal, his plush lips are planting a sweet kiss against mine.

eyes instinctively shutting at the all to familiar sensation of butterflies within my stomach as my heart relishes in our shared affection. pulling away i bring my hand to his face, caressing his skin.

"i love you, so much peter." a radiant smile blooms across his face, "I love you too." looking into his gaze i'm pleased to find that some of that darkness has nearly disappeared. "you doin' okay pete?" he raises his eyebrow at my question, then lowers when he realizes what i'm asking about. "yeah.. i just- i nearly lost you. and i don't know what i would do if i lost you."

"i know i cant promise you but i will try with everything i have to never let that happen again." peters warm and muscled arms wrap around my torso pulling us chest to chest, with no space between us. "and i'll do the same for you, i never want you to feel what i felt that day."

and with those words peter buries himself further into our embrace, where we both lay relishing in each others presence. warmed by our bodies and the rays of the sun shining through our bedroom curtains, as we stay encased in our plush comforter.

a breath of relief leaves me, brain becoming flooded with peters comforting scent as my heavy heart lightens at our declarations to one another. together we would fight to make sure that both of us came home, make sure that we would have the rest of our live together and not apart.

(omg i just went into a crazed writing spree for like 2 hours, i wrote this at 4am-5am so sorry if there are parts that don't make sense. Hope you enjoyed this :D )

[demigod-shenanigans]

Summary: “So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious. The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?”

___

Or: Leo and Jason meet Piper and Reyna’s daughter.

Written for @lost-trio-week day 5: Parents

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: General Audiences

Gentle CW for mentions of childbirth and anxieties surrounding that topic. I personally think this warning might even be overkill, but as per usual with stuff like this, my rule is better safe than sorry.

This fic is once again dedicated to my friend @queenjunothegreat, because Em was originally her baby (shared custody next gen verse my beloved <3) and she was the one who came up with her name. They also came up with the fic title because I’m useless when it comes to titles lmaooo

Soft married Valgrace & Pipeyna. Also lost trio content, obviously, specific focus once again being Leo and Piper’s friendship (can you tell I care so so much about these idiots?)

———

Leo hated hospitals. A hospital was where he’d spent the first few days after his mom’s death, being treated for smoke inhalation, and it was where his first set of awful foster parents had picked him up. 

To say his memories of that time weren’t the fondest would have been the understatement of the century.

And sure, he knew in theory that this was different. New Rome Hospital had a really low death rate for anything that wasn’t battle-related injuries. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been a childbirth-related death here in a century. Realistically, he knew Piper was fine.

Still, the time the rather frazzled-looking Asclepius legacy that had greeted them was taking to figure out where she was and whether it was alright for her to have visitors made Leo’s anxious brain spiral in all kinds of unfun directions.

“Piper might still want to get back at us for the time we both died on her,” he told Jason, anxiously wringing his hands.

His husband raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think she’d die out of spite ten years after the fact,” he commented, squeezing Leo’s hand. “Besides, Reyna said she was doing okay, and you know how she gets about Piper.”

And yeah, alright, that was a fair enough point, but Leo’s anxiety wasn’t exactly great at listening to reason. It never had been.

Nothing would calm him down until he’d seen with his own two eyes that Piper was doing okay.

“If we ever have a kid, we’re adopting,” he sighed into his husband’s shoulder. 

Jason laughed, nuzzling him gently before leaning down to kiss him.

Jason’s lips were a little scabbed from where he had anxiously chewed on them.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that, right?” Leo teased, grinning up at his husband. “Thank the gods I got rid of all the staplers, or you might have started chewing on those, too. We cannot have you set that kind of example for baby McLean.”

“Will you ever let that one go?” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. “I was two.” 

“What kind of husband would I be if I did let it go, hm?” Leo asked, kissing him again.

Someone cleared their throat. A few years back, this might have made them jump apart like embarrassed children, but now, Leo pulled back slowly, eyes lingering on his husband a while longer.

He’d dragged Jason back out of the Underworld by the collar of his stupid school uniform when they’d been seventeen. He was allowed to be disgustingly in love in public. The people could deal.

The Asclepius legacy stood there again, staring down at his clipboard awkwardly. Leo was pretty sure the guy was younger than him—he looked barely older than twenty. 

“Room 201. I wouldn’t recommend staying long—mother and child are both exhausted and will need plenty of rest. And wash your hands before you-”

“Okay, yeah, we’re not complete idiots,” Leo interrupted him. He’d washed his hands four times since getting to the hospital, just because it had given him something to do. 

He was moving in an instant, dragging his husband along with him. Thankfully, his ankle had the decency not to be too much of an ass today.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Jason commented, voice tinged with amusement as he pulled him back the way they’d come. 

“Why do you know that?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just how much time did you spend here as a kid?”

Jason ignored him and kept walking.

~~~~

Leo wanted to knock on that stupid blue door. Really, he did.

So he wasn’t sure why it was that, instead of knocking, he stuffed his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and just stared at the door like a total idiot.

His outfit wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, which was more than could be said for the clothes he’d worn in the workshop earlier that day. He wasn’t as bad as his husband, who Leo had had to talk out of wearing a suit to the hospital because he was worried about making a good first impression, but he was suddenly worried that maybe he still smelled of motor oil. 

The kid would not remember, obviously, but he thought if the first thing he did was upset Piper’s baby, that would still suck. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they didn’t like him.

Jason squeezed his shoulder. “Mi vida, you're gonna make a great uncle, you know that, right?”

“Duh. I’m incredible,” Leo announced, continuing to stare at the door. 

As always, his husband saw right through him—not that Leo was making it especially hard to do so right now.

“They’re gonna love you. I mean it.” Jason nudged him. “You’re great with the kids we help at the shelter.”

“I mean, I guess,” Leo mumbled, but his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “If all else fails, I suppose I can always bribe them with candy once they’re a little older.”

Jason laughed, and Leo finally managed to make himself knock.

It was Reyna who opened the door. She wasn’t even the one who’d had the baby, but she still looked as much of a fucking disaster as Leo had ever seen her. She had deep rings under her reddened eyes and was wearing what Leo was decently sure were rumpled pajamas. Her hair had come loose from its usual neat braid and exploded in messy waves around her shoulders.

“It turns out my daughter is really fond of my hair,” Reyna explained dryly, but there was a softness in her eyes that was usually reserved for Piper. “Come in.”

She moved back to her wife’s bedside in an instant. 

Piper looked… honestly, Leo had seen her look way worse. Her safety scissors bob didn’t look a lot more messy than usual, if he was being honest. Her skin was sweat-damp and she was obviously exhausted, but no one had stabbed her or tried to cook her into soup, which was definitely a plus.

Well, that and the way she was smiling down at the tiny bundle in her arms.

“Hey Pipes,” Leo said, raising his hand in a ridiculous wave as he moved to stand at her side.

“Hey.” Piper smiled up at them. “Glad you guys could make it. I’d wave back, but I’m holding a baby right now, so.”

The baby was small, but in the way Leo assumed newborns usually were. She had just the slightest hint of dark hair and equally dark eyes and was dressed in a small orange onesie.

She was looking right at him.

“She’s got your nose.” Leo paused. “Well, a very tiny copy of your nose. You’ve kept your own nose, as far as I can tell.”

“You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” Piper sighed, poking her daughter in the nose in question. “Your tío is a bit of an idiot, but you’re going to love him, too. Trust me.”

The baby cooed happily.

“Great.” Leo groaned dramatically. “I’m being bullied by a newborn.”

Piper laughed.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, though Leo knew the baby had about 95% of his husband’s attention right now.

Jason had been pulling faces at her literally since they’d walked in the door. 

He’d always been that way around kids, but babies were especially bad. They activated a protective, wildly affectionate parental instinct that Leo had to assume came from Jason’s wolf boy months because he definitely hadn’t gotten it from either of his parents.

It was endearing as hell, but had the unfortunate side effect that it had always made Leo think about a kid of their own, including back when he hadn’t felt even slightly ready for one.

“Exhausted. Content. A little embarrassed.” Piper burst into another fit of tired laughter. “I sort of yelled at my wife to get out. Twice. Which would have been fine, except I was apparently using charmspeak.”

“That you even told her to get out at all seems wildly unfair towards Reyna considering you guys didn’t even have sex,” Leo commented, raising an eyebrow at Piper. “This is, like, objectively not on her.”

Reyna snorted, which was always a massive win in Leo’s book. He’d had a hard time figuring out what sort of jokes made her laugh, and every time he managed, he felt immensely proud of himself.

“Nuh-uh,” Piper protested immediately. “Em may be a magic IVF baby, but she’s a magic IVF baby we both decided to have, so it’s still at least fifty percent Reyna’s fault.”

“That’s a responsibility I will gladly accept. She’s mine and she’s yours and I would not change that for anything in the world.” Reyna pressed a soft kiss to her wife’s forehead. Then she reached down towards her daughter. The baby happily grasped her fingers. 

Reyna’s usual serious expression had melted away into a smile that was so sweet Leo thought it’d give him a toothache. 

“Yeah, okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” he commented, because he was a total hypocrite when it came to other people’s PDA. “But what I really want to know is how far out of the hospital you got before the charmspeak wore off.”

“The first time I realized by the end of the hallway. The second time I made it all the way out to the parking lot. How Piper had that kind of energy, I’ll never understand.” Reyna shook her head, a kind of quiet awe in her voice. “Though perhaps worse than me leaving for a few minutes was the fact that the second time it happened, it also affected the midwife.”

Jason abruptly stopped pulling faces at Em to look up at Piper with a horrified expression.

“That sounds terrifying. Are you okay?”

“It was scary as hell at the time.” Piper shrugged. “Looking back on it, it's mostly just funny.”

“You continue to be the strongest warrior I know,” Reyna told her fondly, leaning down to kiss her.

“Love, I was an absolute terror and you know it.” Piper beamed at her wife. “You are cute, though, so maybe I’ll allow it.”

“So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn again. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. He looked like he might genuinely explode if he didn’t get to hold the baby within the next three seconds, but also like he’d bravely bear that fate because he didn’t want to be rude. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious.

The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?” 

Leo hadn’t gone by Emilio since before he’d met Piper. He’d almost forgotten she knew his full name. 

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Piper told him, suddenly looking awkward. “I know why you don’t use the name for yourself, but I figured just naming her Lea might be confusing. Sorry, I probably should have asked you sooner. If you don’t want-”

“No, no, if you guys really want that, I’d be honored. But like- why?” he asked in utter disbelief. “Why me, out of all people?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Piper said, smiling at him. “Because you’re brave and smart and the best person I know. Because you defied fate and found happiness despite all odds. Because I’ll be lucky if she grows up to be even a little bit like you.”

Leo turned to Reyna. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. “You’re okay with that?”

Reyna nodded, her expression solemn. “If names really do have power, yours is the greatest blessing we can give her.”

Leo was absolutely bawling his eyes out. His husband wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders and soothingly ran a hand up and down the length of his arm.

“She’s the luckiest kid in the universe,” Jason told him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. 

Leo had thought himself a curse for most of his childhood. He’d gotten better about it in recent years, since he’d made peace with his mother’s death and led Jason back out of the Underworld, but the pain had never fully faded.

Piper and Reyna associating his name with joy—choosing it for their daughter to make sure she’d be happy —was hitting him on a level he couldn’t fully process. 

It had been one thing to know on a theoretical level that Piper wanted him to be her child’s godfather—minus the religious connotations. 

But this? To know his best friend not only trusted him with the smallest, most precious human being Leo had ever met, but that she trusted his name to keep her safe? He genuinely didn’t think he would ever recover from that.

“I love you guys,” he sniffled. “So much.”

He knew that was a deeply uncool reaction. Maybe he should have been all smug and braggy about the whole thing. Maybe he would be, later, once everything had properly sunken in.

But right now, he couldn’t stop crying.

”And we love you right back,” Piper said with a soft smile, leaning forward and holding her armful of curious baby out towards him. “You’re not getting out of holding your niece, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He sniffled. 

Leo had been terrified of holding Em basically since he knew she existed. He’d never been able to bring himself to hold Percy and Annabeth’s kid, despite all the times they’d babysat back in college. It had been easy enough to pass the job off to Jason, who loved holding babies.

That way, Leo could avoid any potential disasters. No way he could drop a baby he never even held, right?

He’d known that Piper wouldn’t let him get away with that when it came to her child, and that knowledge had scared the hell out of him for months. What if he screwed up? What if he did it wrong and somehow hurt the baby?

But Piper was holding Em out towards him, an expression of utter trust on her face, and Leo couldn’t do anything but reach out to take his tiny niece from her arms, trying to mirror the way Piper had held her.

Emilia stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Her weight felt awkward in his arms.

“Gods, I’m totally messing this up, aren’t I?”

“You’re really not,” Piper reassured him. “Just make sure you’re supporting her head. Here, I’ll-” She tried to lean forward, but stopped, wincing.

“Hermosa, you’re supposed to be resting,” Reyna told her, voice firm and concerned. 

She was smiling at Leo, but she was also wringing her hands, watching him closely like maybe she was expecting him to drop her daughter. 

That made two of them.

Leo could easily picture her vaulting over the bed to catch her child if that happened, though that weirdly didn’t make him feel a lot better about the possibility.

“Don’t mind my lovely wife. Rey’s just nervous,” Piper whispered, patting his arm. “You’re the first person aside from us and the hospital staff who gets to hold Em.”

“If you’re trying to make me less nervous, reminding me that I’m messing up one of Emilia’s first experiences with being held was not the way to go,” Leo joked, trying to shift the baby in his arms. This was not very effective, seeing as he had no idea what he was doing.

“I can help, if you want,” Jason volunteered immediately. He waited for Leo to nod, then put his hands over Leo’s and carefully adjusted his hold on Em a bit. “Here. Just support her head a little more. You’re doing great, mi vida.”

Emilia’s weight felt a little less awkward in his arms now. Leo relaxed a fraction, smiling down at her.

“Thanks for the assist.” 

“Always.” Jason nuzzled Leo’s cheek. “You were barely even messing up. You just have a tendency to overthink things when you’re nervous.”

“Says the guy who almost came here in a suit,” Leo commented, but he didn’t look up. His entire focus was on the newborn in his arms. He was mesmerized.

“Hi, sobrinita.” He was still sniffling, but he hadn't made his niece cry yet, so he was counting that as a win. “Gods, you’re a literal baby and somehow I’m the one wailing at you. So much for decent first impressions, hm?”

Emilia cooed at him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he agreed, nodding his head at his niece. Holding her grew easier with each passing moment. She was looking at him like he was the only person in the universe. 

Leo loved her immediately.

He couldn’t believe he’d been as anxious as he had about holding her. He couldn’t believe he’d almost made himself miss out on this.

 “Pipes, I hope you’re not expecting me to say no to her, ever, because I can tell you right now that it’s not gonna happen.”

Piper laughed. “Oh, please. Your job was never going to be responsible godfather. If that was what I was looking for, I’d have picked someone else.”

“We’re gonna get into so much trouble together,” he whispered to Em, grinning at her. 

This time, Emilia didn’t smile back at him. Instead she scrunched up her face and started crying.

Leo froze.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did, I was just-”

“Babies cry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Piper told him gently. “I can’t believe she’s been as quiet as she has since you two came in, honestly. This is the calmest she’s been since she was born.”

“Oh.” Leo had almost managed to stop crying, but that made him start up again. 

“She cried when I first held her, too,” Reyna told him. When he looked up at her, he could tell some of the tension had gone out of her shoulders, despite the fact that he’d just managed to upset her daughter. “I’m glad she’ll grow up knowing her emotions aren’t something to fear.”

Leo hadn’t even considered thinking about it like that, but it made sense that Reyna would. When he’d first met her, there would have been no way for him to tell if she’d cried—if she’d allowed herself to cry at all.

He looked at her red-rimmed eyes again, the expression on her face genuine and fond, and could immediately feel more tears running down his cheeks. He’d have walked over and hugged her this instant if it hadn’t been for the newborn in his arms.

“Yeah.” Leo sniffled. “Me too.”

He was pretty sure he hadn’t cried this many happy tears since Jason had started reciting his wedding vows in slightly awkward Spanish.

“Can I-” Jason asked, gesturing vaguely towards Emilia. When Leo and Piper both nodded, he took the baby into his own arms, rocking her gently. His expression immediately melted into the world’s softest smile.

Seeing them like this, Leo would have married him again in an instant.

“She’s probably overstimulated. This is the most people she’s ever met in her life,” Jason concluded once he’d managed to soothe her a little. 

“I get it. People are really overwhelming.” Leo wiped at his eyes. “I still can’t believe my stupid sewer rat face is, like, the fifth face this poor kid has ever seen. She did not need to be exposed to sewer rats this early in her life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your face,” Jason protested immediately. “I like your face.”

“You’re married to me. You’re supposed to say that,” Leo teased, but he still found himself smiling. “We should probably leave you guys for the day, hm? You three all look like you could use a nap.”

“As long as you promise you’ll be back soon,” Piper insisted, smiling up at them as Jason—very reluctantly—handed Emilia back to her. “Hi, sweetie. You’re a little sleepy, hm?”

Emilia yawned in agreement.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easily.” Leo grinned at his best friend.

“Thanks for coming here as soon as you did. And, you know, for all the other sappy stuff I’m not going to say right now because I think we’ve all cried enough for one day.”

“Yeah. Gotta save some of that for tomorrow,” Leo agreed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. Then he reached out, gently pressing his finger into his niece’s palm. “Bye bye, Emilia. Be nice to your moms, okay?” 

Her hand closed into a fist, holding his finger tightly. 

Leo let out a startled laugh.

“She’s got excellent reflexes,” Reyna said proudly.

“Yeah, well, I guess that means we’re not leaving yet. I’m really not sure how I’ll ever get out of this finger trap without the ability to turn into an iguana.”

Both Piper and Jason immediately cracked up. Reyna just looked confused. Leo made a mental note to tell her that particular story some other time.

“Anything we should bring you tomorrow?” Jason asked. He looked Reyna over. “Do you want some clothes that aren’t, uh-”

“…pajamas?” Reyna laughed. “Yes. That would be great. I checked the hospital bag about fourteen times to make sure we’d packed everything we might need, but it somehow did not occur to me that we’d be leaving in the middle of the night, nor that I’d need to pack any clothes for myself.”

“I want a large coffee and the least healthy pastry you can find,” Piper said immediately. “Reyna has everything else covered.”

Leo laughed. He reluctantly removed his finger from Em’s grasp, linking his hand with his husband’s as they left.

And, well, if he spent the rest of the evening baking horrendously sugary pastries, that was nobody’s business but his own.

———

Fic Notes:

-Fun fact! I edited this at 3 am last night and then I didn’t even post it because I couldn’t think of a title. It is now, once again, 3 am. My sleep schedule is doing great, thanks for asking.

-The concept of “names have power” is so interesting to toy with specifically in a context like this. Because like, objectively, Leo has had a lot of bad stuff happen to him. He’d never even considered thinking of his name as a blessing before this. But few demigod or legacies lead easy lives, and in the end the thing that outweighs anything else is that he’s managed to find happiness, despite the odds being stacked against him.

-Also, considering Reyna has a prophecy hanging over her head that’s specifically linked to family legacy, it just makes sense for her and Piper to choose Leo’s name. What better way to protect your child from a prophecy than giving her the name of someone who defied his fate?

-Would really like to eventually go into Reyna’s feelings on all this more, but that deserves a whole fic of its own.

-For anyone who’d like context on the Emilio thing, the very basic idea of that being Leo’s full name and him never using it is that his mom always used his full name and he’s terrified he’ll forget what it sounded like if other people use it, because no one ever says it quite like she did.

-Here’s a little fic Juno wrote about Piper finding out Leo’s full name for anyone who wants a little extra context!

-“But canonically his name is Leonidas.” As far as I’m aware, Rick actually confirmed his name is just Leo. Also, this is a fanfic, I can therefore do whatever I want :)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, as always, extremely appreciated.