#if law ever dies i’m not writing for one piece okay

[froggiewrites]

i love your writing so much and im so glad you opened requests!! :) i would love if you wrote a fic about zoro being dominant (maybe some spanking/spitting?) him having a dirty mouth, and perhaps some edging? i have another idea that i'll send in a diff message too! even if you dont choose this one i look forward to reading the others <3

I've never written anything with a lot of dirty talk or dominance before, but I tried my best, and I hope I did it justice! 😊

Playing Rough

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're being terribly stubborn, insisting on fighting battles you can't handle. Zoro decides to put you in your place. Warnings: Smut, Dom Zoro, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Slight Edging, Begging Word Count: 2.4k

It was a stupid argument, one that shouldn’t have happened.

The battle you had been through was rough, sure, but you didn’t take any damage that wouldn’t heal. Zoro had insisted you not fight on your own, not take on any challenge you couldn’t handle, and you had insisted that you were more than capable of handling it. And you were. You came home, didn’t you? And the bruises might be nasty and the stitches weren’t terribly fun either, but you were in one piece. You had managed to hobble your way back to the ship on your own, and you didn’t even collapse before making it into Zoro’s arms.

You were too out of it to comprehend the words he said, though you understood the panic and fear in his tone well enough. And you certainly understood the words he spoke when you first woke up.

“Are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could truly get angry, his arms were around you, crushing you against his chest. You can feel a slight tremor as he takes a deep breath, nose buried in your hair, taking in your scent, your warmth, any evidence that you are here with him and alive. He takes a shuddering inhale, the closest thing to weakness you’ve ever heard from him, before his voice comes back again, rough and absolutely furious. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t almost die.” You try to say it sweetly, soothingly, but his fingers tighten in a way that is less than kind.

“You almost died. You went even though you knew you shouldn’t, and you almost died. I almost lost you.” His voice isn’t shaking, not quite, but you swear you feel the tremor anyway. Zoro is not a man easily rattled, yet somehow you have shaken him to his very foundation.

“You could never lose me, Zoro. I knew what I was doing, I promise.”

“You knew the risk you were taking?”

“Yes. But I had to do it.” You bring a hand up to run through his hair. “I knew I would come back. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I was strong enough. I promise.”

You’re suddenly devoid of his warmth as he pulls away, glaring at you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Chopper said if you got back even a few minutes later…” He trails off, clenching his teeth.

“But I didn’t,” you insist. “Everything turned out fine, Zoro.”

“Do you think that’s all that matters?”

“Kind of!”

He huffs. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door as he leaves. You throw yourself back onto the bed, wincing as you realize your ribs are very much broken. Every inch of you is bruised, and it hurts to breathe. But it was worth it. He would understand that eventually. Not every fight has a pretty ending, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t finish them.

He did not understand, as it turns out.

He still helped you as you healed, your dear protector always carrying you so gently, so purposefully. But you could feel the distance, the tension. Neither of you acknowledged it, focusing on your health first and foremost, but it haunted every moment you two were together. Touches were fleeting, conversation was sparse. But finally, finally, today you have been officially given a clean bill of health by Chopper.

“You’re cleared for everyday activity, but I still want you to stay out of fights for a while. And don’t do anything that reckless again!” Chopper’s words are law when it comes to your health, so you’ll do your best, but you can’t help but think of how no one else on this ship would follow such instructions.

“I’ll try.” No promises you can’t keep, and Chopper purses his lips a little when he realizes, but after a moment he simply nods. He’s used to patients even more stubborn than you, of course.

As you leave the office, ready to get back to your regular life, you’re instantly met by Zoro’s broad chest as he pulls you into him.

“You’re fine now?” There’s a tension to his voice you don’t fully understand.

“I–yeah? I guess?”

“Good.” He throws you over his shoulder, not exactly gently, now that he knows being rough with you won’t open your stitches.

“What are you doing?” You try to pull yourself up to see where he’s taking you, but he gives you a quick swat on the ass that makes you squeak as you fall limp again.

“You’ll see.” He jogs down a hallway you only recognize right before you reach your destination: his room. When the door slams shut behind you, enclosing you in darkness, it almost sounds like a death knell.

He throws you onto the bed carelessly, pushing a hand onto your stomach to keep you from bouncing. His other hand makes quick work of your pants as you squirm, not out of fear but out of pure confusion.

“Zoro? What’s going on?”

“We have a conversation to finish.” His voice is flat. You don’t need to ask him which conversation. You know damn well which one. He’s finally rid you of your pants, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and he begins to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Is that what this is going to be? A conversation?”

He hums. “No, I guess not.” His callused hands are rough against your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and grabs your breasts. “You aren’t going to be doing much talking, today. It’s finally time for you to listen.” He kneads your chest for a moment, pinching harshly, before he moves to slide off your panties.

“Listen?” Your voice is a little strained as you feel his fingers slide against your bare skin for the first time in weeks.

“Yeah, listen. You weren’t willing before, so I have to try something else.” He flips you over before pulling you onto his lap, ass in the air. “Make you remember our roles here.”

“Our roles?”

“Yeah. I’m the protector of the ship, of our crew. That’s my job.”

“Oh? And what’s mine?”

“In general? To survive. Right now? To take what I give you.”

“And what are you giving me?”

“Do you think you’re in a position to interrogate me right now?” His hand grabs one of your ass cheeks, an attempt to remind you exactly who’s in charge. And you know, of course, who’s in charge here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t push him.

“You’ve been answering, haven’t you?” You can’t keep the mischief out of your voice.

He chuckles in spite of himself. “Yeah, I have. I’m being too nice, aren’t I?” His voice gets a little deeper, an intensity creeping in. “I’ll give you one more, as a treat. I’m giving you exactly what you’ve earned, for acting so fucking recklessly. And then, if you’re good? I’ll give you my cock. I’m sure you want it, hm? All cooped up in the infirmary for weeks, thinking about it, knowing you can’t have it. I bet it’s been driving you insane.”

With that, you feel the sharp sting of his hand as he brings it down. It makes you cry out as it connects with your soft flesh, but you know he isn’t using even half of his strength, holding back, somehow taking care of you even now. You feel him harden when he does it, though you can’t tell if it’s from the sound you make or from the action itself. Maybe both. His hand gently caresses the growing handprint, a moment of tenderness, before he raises his hand again and you tense.

“Just relax, sweetheart. It can’t be any worse than what you put us through.” Another smack, this one on the other cheek, and another, and another, alternating each time. You can’t help the small squeaks and whines you let out, and Zoro can’t hide the effect they have on him, breathing growing heavier and smacks becoming more intense as you both lose yourselves.

“That’s it. One more. You can take one more.”

“Ah!”

“That’s right. Another. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re practically dripping.” You clench your thighs together, trying to hide the fact that he’s right, about this, about the fight, about everything here. When you try, he tuts, bringing his hand down yet again, making you jolt. “Don’t go hiding yourself from me, pretty thing. You’re mine, every inch of you. You can’t hide a thing from me. Can you say it for me, sweet thing? Admit that you’re mine?”

“I’m yours, Zoro!”

“And that I was right?”

“You were—ah!” His hand comes down again, but you force your way through. “You were right, Zoro!”

“There we go.” His hands finally stop, coming to rest on your red and stinging ass. “Was that so hard to admit?”

You keep silent, your stubbornness still carrying you through.

He laughs at you. “You know, I could add a bit to your punishment for not answering. But,” his fingers find your entrance, wet and waiting, “I think you’d probably like that, huh?”

You hum, pushing your face into the bed, trying to hide your red face and ears. He lifts you up, pulling you up into a sitting position, holding your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Hiding again? You really liked your punishment, didn’t you? As much as I’d love to continue, that’s not all I had in store. So eyes on me.”

He quickly strips off his shirt before easily lifting you with one arm so he can slide off his pants. As he does, you can see a wet spot where you were resting. It’s a little mortifying, realizing how easily he can turn you to putty in his hands, literally dripping wet for him. Your embarrassment quickly subsides when he frees his cock, red and twitching, and you realize you hold just as much sway over him as he does over you. He lines himself up with your entrance, ready to give you exactly what you want.

As he slowly slides you down on his cock, you let out a moan, and he groans in response. His eyes are locked onto where your bodies meet, taking in the sight of you stretching around him. “Fuck, you take me so perfectly. Like you were made for me.”

Once he’s fully sheathed in you, you both take a moment to breathe in, enjoying the feeling of this first sweet stretch. The second you breathe out, he begins to bounce you roughly, making you squeak. “Oh, you thought I was going to go easy on you now?” He laughs, continuing his fast pace, fingertips digging into your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, pretty thing. Bouncing on my cock just like that.”

One hand leaves your hips, moving up your body, finding its place at your chest. He pinches your nipples, making you squeal, before he leans forward, breathing heavily in your ear. “God, when you squeeze around me like that…” he squeezes your chest again, moaning. “You kill me, sweetheart.”

His hips continue to snap harshly into yours, pounding relentlessly as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and leaving a mark that clearly defines you as his. You can feel the heat rising as your orgasm builds, your sounds growing more wanton and desperate as Zoro begins to pound into you even faster, and faster.

And then it stops.

“Wha–”

You can feel the rumble of his chest against your back as he laughs. “Oh, did you think I was going to just give it to you?”

“I–But–I was good,” you say petulantly. Your voice is still a half whine as you try to ground yourself, the tension in your body slowly unraveling and leaving nothing but a cold dissatisfaction.

“Hm.” He presses his cheek to your shoulder, humming as though he’s thinking. “Well. Maybe if you beg you can cum on my cock. If you’re real sweet about it.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly the frantic cry leaves your mouth. “Please, please, please Zoro can I cum? Please?”

“Hm. I think you can do better.”

“Please, can I cum on your cock, Zoro! Please, I need you, please!”

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around it. He enters you again, pace slower this time, but strokes deep and deliberate. You can feel every inch of him as he pulls in and out, feel the heat of his breath on your ear, hear his quiet moans as you clench around him. He will give you your release, but not as quickly as you want it. You’ll get it on his terms.

Even still, you reach your precipice quickly, and he whispers huskily in your ear. “Are you ready?”

You’re beyond all practical thought at this point, but you still manage two simple words. “Yes! Please.”

“Alright then, pretty thing. Cum for me.” With one final thrust, one final movement of his fingers, you do, gushing around him as the world shatters. You’re panting, desperate for breath, but you can’t seem to make your lungs listen to you over the symphony of pleasure you’re drowning in. Right as you manage to regain some control of yourself, you can feel Zoro go tense beneath you before you feel him spill inside of you, filling you to the brim as he quietly moans out your name. 

You both sit together a moment, you limp in Zoro’s arms as he falls back onto the bed, before he speaks up.

“Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. Really.” His arms wrap around you a little tighter. “I…I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I won’t do it again, Zoro, I promise.” Your voice is weak, but you look up to see a sincere smile creep onto his face and you know he heard you. “...Are there other things that might get me punished like this? Less deadly things?”

He laughs. “Oh, there are plenty. And I’m sure you’ll do them all.” His hand runs through your hair affectionately. “But I’ll find more excuses to spank you later. I think you need some rest.”

With that, you two simply lay together, the only sound in the room your quiet breaths and the sound of Zoro’s heartbeat, growing slower and slower as you both drift off.

[helpimstuckposting]

Okay this ones a bit sillier, I'm just a hostage writing their banter into existence. There is no stranger things without silly banter, and I am just a mere mortal passing the message, bound by the laws of this world. Still sad tho, can't forget that.

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven

—

From his huddle on the floor, Steve felt more hands on his shoulders and his back, felt more arms wrap so tightly around him and he’d never felt more secure in his life. His cheeks hurt and the muscles in his neck pulled uncomfortably around the lump in his throat, his clothes were days old and covered in dirt from the woods outside, and he had no idea what was going on but his arms were full of Robin and he could feel Dustin clinging to his side, and Nancy carding her fingers through his hair. El and Max were crying, everyone was crying, but Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy.

He was so scared, so scared, that when he let go it would all be gone. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it, this time.

He felt Nancy step back, the warmth from just above his shoulder gone and he panicked, tearing his damp eyes away from the crook of Robin’s neck to look up. She was still there, smiling with tears in her eyes and she looked so young all of a sudden, Steve could imagine her face aglow with the rainbow lights of the Upside Down Lite Brite, excitement in her eyes like a child waking up on Christmas to find everything she ever hoped for under the tree.

“I’m gonna get the first aid kit,” she whispered, shuffling into the hallway. Always the responsible one.

Robin and the kids finally pulled away, helping him to his feet, and they hadn’t disappeared. A weight in his chest lifted slightly, the unsurety of it all still pressing down but one piece had been relieved. They weren’t going to disappear on him.

They made their way from the kitchen into the livingroom, sitting Steve down on the once pristine white couch. It was now a dull eggshell, years of wear sinking the cushions in and making it more comfortable than he ever remembered. His parents would flip if they saw it. Not that he ever wanted them to come back.

Nancy entered the room with a small white tackle box, sitting down opposite Steve and Robin on the coffee table in front of them. He glanced to his side and noticed a smudge of blood on Robin’s cheek, the one she’d had pressed into his neck. She didn’t have a cut on her face and for a brief moment he wondered where the blood came from until Nancy pressed a wet cotton ball into Steve’s neck. He remembered the knife Eddie had held to his throat, the sharp movement he made when the party burst through the door earlier. The blade must have sliced him and he hadn’t even noticed.

The party was quiet as Nancy patched him up. For some reason, Eddie was nowhere to be seen. He seemed like the most suspicious out of everyone and Steve couldn’t figure out why, but right now there were clearly more pressing matters at hand.

Steve looked around the room at the faces he never thought he’d see again, in the house that was definitely different than his own in the slightest of ways, but more lived in, more comfortable. Full of pictures he’d never taken, but he was clearly present for somehow.

“What…,” he started to ask, throat scratchy, not really sure how to begin. Nancy put away the gauze and tape, closing the tackle box with a quiet click. Everything from the morning flicked through Steves mind and though most of it was hazy, he tried his best to piece it all together. This clearly wasn’t a dream, and it didn’t seem anything like Max had described Vecna’s mind powers to be.

“What’s the date?” He finally asked.

Dustin squinted at him. Okay, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only suspicious one. “It’s May 8th, 1990,” he replied, “It’s been six months since you died.”

Died. There it was again. But the date was correct, Steve remembered that much.

“Listen. I know this sounds… crazy, but-,”

“Crazier than a girl with superpowers and a hell dimension?” Dustin cut in. Steve blinked up at him. He hated when he was at a lower eye level than the kid, made him feel smaller like somehow Dustin was the adult in the situation. The tone didn’t help either. Steve missed it so much.

“Okay, fair.” He started again, trying to gain his bearings and make sense of the situation, put it into words that they’d understand. “You keep saying I died, but for me… I remember you guys dying.” He glanced at them all again. They were watching him with varying levels of confusion, Nancy’s lips were pursed and Max’s were, too, in a similar way.

“The last time we fought Vecna, a few of us barely made it out alive. It’s been… it’s been years since I last saw you guys.”

They were quiet. He watched as they flicked their eyes back and forth between each other. He felt like an outsider once more, like they were speaking a language he didn’t quite know yet, like he was back in the Byer’s living room while Jonathan and Nancy tried to get him to leave. Before everything fell apart.

“All of us?” Max finally spoke, asking the question they were clearly communicating between all of them.

“Not… not all of you. But, Will and El… Dustin, Max… Robbie,” he looked at all of them as he said their names. “The rest of the kids moved away with their families, Eddie left when Wayne died. I’ve been..,” he paused for a breath. They were all still so quiet, letting him finish, though he took a bit to stumble through the words, “I’ve been alone for years. The Hawkins I know is a ghost town and I have no idea how I got here.”

No one really spoke, they just kept looking at each other. Steve glanced back between each of them, feeling like he was failing some sort of test he never studied for. He always hated silence, lived with it so long it became loud and overbearing. He didn’t want it to be so quiet when he was surrounded by people.

“I don’t think I’m your Steve,” he finished, just for one more thing to say, one more break in the quiet.

“Parallel universes,” Dustin muttered to himself. He seemed almost… excited? Like there was a new code he cracked or a gadget he could take apart.

Nancy and Max just squinted at him, the former glancing back to Steve out of the corner of her eye, assessing. She always stayed quiet until she’d figured out the next move, calculated all the variables in her head before saying them out loud. Dustin seemed impatient, rolling his eyes to the heavens and back down again.

“Like The Dark Tower?” he tried, groaning when met with more silence. “Stephen King?” Steve briefly wondered if Dustin ever got tired of acting like he knew more than everyone in the room. The kid needed a reality check in Steve’s opinion, but unfortunately for him, Dustin usually did know more than Steve.

“You know how The Upside Down is like a copy of Hawkins?” Dustin tried again, and the crew nodded back. “Well that’s like our world folded over on itself, it’s an extension and not a separate entity.” He held his hands like two Cs, miming a piece of paper being folded in on itself. “But a parallel universe is like a completely separate world.”

Dustin suddenly clapped his hands together. Steve flinched at the sharp noise, but Dustin didn't seem to notice, separating his hands by just a centimeter and keeping them held out in front of him. “It’s an alternate dimension that runs parallel to ours, with just slight differences leading to separate outcomes.”

“Like Narnia?” Steve asked. Robin let out a soft ‘ohhhh’ and pointed at him. Dustin groaned and his whole body seemed to sag in a parental-like disappointment.

“No, Steve, not like Narnia!”

“I don’t know, it sounds kind of like Narnia,” Robin said.

“Yeah, Narnia was a separate world,” Steve nodded at her.

“Enough about Narnia! It’s not like Narnia!”

“Seems like Narnia,” Robin muttered, but Dustin ignored her and powered through, though El was giggling to herself and that seemed like a win in Steve's book.

“Narnia is an alternate universe that’s completely different than ours. I’m talking about the same world with the same people, but certain decisions cause a split that leaves the world slightly different than the next one. We’re all fundamentally the same, but some of our experiences might be different! For instance, our fights with Vecna turned out different results. Okay? Do you get it now?”

Max rolled her eyes “Don’t have a conniption, you’re not the only person in the room with brain cells, you know.”

"Okay, let's just..," Nancy began, holding her hands up placatingly, "Let's take a breath and pretend Dustin is right, that this is some kind of parallel universe."

"I am right," Dustin muttered to himself, though no one paid him any attention, all eyes focused now on Nancy.

“If Steve is from a parallel universe, then… how did he get here?” she asked. Eyes turned from Nancy to Steve again, and Steve did his best not to cower under the microscope. Carol had taught him to hide his emotions, keep calm and collected, ‘people will respect you more, Steve, just look like you don’t care’. He stared back at them.

“I just… I remember waking up in the woods-,”

“What were you doing in the woods?” Max interjected.

“I… it doesn’t matter. I took a nap and woke up in the backyard, that’s it,” he lied. He didn’t want to delve into his traumas now. Though these people looked like his family, they hadn’t gone through the same thing he did. They didn’t know him the way they should. He could tell them later, if he needed to, but not right now. Robin still looked at him like she knew, though, still seemed to be able to read his mind, ‘I’ve got two brain cells, Stevie, and one of them is yours.’

He sighed as the crew all looked at each other again, resigned to remaining on the outside of this team that wore faces he’d longed to see again. He wasn’t their Steve, and they weren’t his family. They had codes all their own, glances that meant something he couldn’t translate, memories he wasn’t a part of. Steve Harrington was always meant to be alone.

“Wait,” Robin broke the silence. Steve watched as he could see the gears turning in her head, it reminded him of the look she got seconds before cracking the Russian code at Starcourt. “Wasn’t there a gate near your backyard already? From Barb?”

Steve blinked at her. Parallel universe or not, it seemed some events stayed the same.

Nancy filled in Robin’s train of thought, bouncing to the next. “Like you somehow came from the old gate?”

“Did you know that keeping scars healed is a continuous process?” Robin’s train of thought bounced again, seemingly out of nowhere. “The body needs to constantly focus attention on keeping the old wounds healed, it’s called collagen synthesis, which requires vitamin C. So, if you get scurvy the body can no longer maintain the process and your scars can reopen. Bones that have been healed for like twenty years can actually shatter again, too, it’s pretty creepy when you really think about it, like we’re never really fully healed even after decades and-,”

“Robin,” Steve cut in. “Are you suggesting the universe has… scurvy?”

“No? Well… I mean, I guess. I just mean, what if closing the gates wasn’t just a one-and-done thing?”

Nancy seesawed her head back and forth, “Like, what was holding them together is no longer working?” she added. Robin nodded, holding her palms up like Vanna White, presenting Nancy’s contribution to the room.

“Isn’t that kind of a stretch?” Dustin asked.

“We could check the gates,” Max said, “See if they’re still closed?”

El nodded, sitting up a bit straighter, “I can feel them out, see if anything has changed.”

They all worked so well together. Steve had forgotten how easily they came up with plans, the pounding of his heart against his chest as adrenaline raced through his body, sharpening his mind. It all felt so quick, so practiced, no time for dilly-dallying, no time for uncertainty. But… if they found out the gates had opened again, what then? Would he need to go back to his world in order to close them? He looked at each party member one by one, took in their enthusiasm at creating a new plan, at figuring out a puzzle placed in front of them. What if he didn’t want to go back? What was there to even go back to?

“Maybe-,” Steve cut through their chattering voices, and they paused to focus on him. “Maybe we should just check the backyard first. See if that gate is open, and then we can worry about the rest. We should also probably tell the rest of the party, they don’t know any of this has happened yet.” And maybe that could buy him some time.

Just… just a couple more days, a couple more hours at the very least. They weren’t his family, but they were closer than he’d ever thought he’d have again. He wasn’t quite ready to give them up just yet.

“Right,” Robin said, placing her hand gently on Steve’s arm. He wondered how desperately she had craved her own Steve’s touch, if she had sat awake at night feeling like half of herself was missing, ‘two brain cells, Stevie, and one of them is yours.’

She squeezed his arm, and he already knew the answer. She was still Robbie.

“We should call your mom,” Nancy nodded.

“My what?”

—

It’s the little things 👀 expect the unexpected, Stevie

@weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03

[4law]

my favorites ALWAYS die bro

[capseycartwright]

86. for buddie from the 100 different kisses I am begging on my knees (only if inspiration comes!)

86. reunion kisses, “i thought you were dead” - more of a first kiss and a reunion kiss all in one, but i hope you like it all the same!

“I’m going back in,” Buck wasn’t going to listen to another word from Bobby. His captain – his captain could write him up for insubordination, he could do whatever he wanted to, but Buck was walking into that fire and there was nothing and no one that could stop him. So, he told Bobby, and Hen, and Chimney exactly that.

“Buck,” Bobby sighed, in that ‘I should have retired years ago’ way he sometimes did, shaking his head.

“Bobby,” Buck couldn’t help the way his voice cracked, as he spoke, pleading with his captain. “It’s Eddie,” he emphasised. “I’m not walking away from this.”

“Buck, man,” Chimney’s brow was furrowed. “You need to think about Christopher. Okay? I don’t – I’m not saying Eddie isn’t fine, but you have a responsibility to that kid you need to think about.”

Buck knew that – really, he did. He knew that he had a responsibility greater than himself to consider, but the thing was – he never, ever wanted to have to walk into the Diaz apartment and break the news to Christopher that his father wasn’t coming home, and Buck didn’t even try and save him. “Would you want to raise Jee without Maddie?” he asked quietly, looking at his brother-in-law.

“No, but…” Chimney began, looking a little confused.

“It’s not different,” Buck said, and that wasn’t exactly how he wanted to admit it, for the first time, but he had to try and explain why he’d walk into fires bigger than the one raging behind them if he thought there was even a ten percent change of saving Eddie Diaz. “It’s not different for me, Chim.”

“Buck,” Hen’s voice was gentle, as she spoke, her hand heavy on Buck’s arm, even through layers of turnout gear.

“Hen – look, I know what you’re going to say,” Buck said, and it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her advice, but he couldn’t hear it, there and then. “But I’ve made my decision – I’m going back in.”

“No, Buck,” Hen’s voice was firmer. “Look.”

Buck twisted, turning to face where she was pointing, and –

“Eddie?”

Eddie was stumbling out of dispatch, covered in dust, and suit, that ridiculously expensive new haircut he’d been rocking for a few weeks mused, his uniform shirt ripped. He was practically carrying one of his colleagues, limping slightly as he dragged himself and another dispatcher out of the fire and to the waiting paramedics.

“Eddie!” Buck yelled again, and his feet were moving before his brain could fully catch up, running across the parking lot. Eddie looked exhausted, as he blinked back at Buck, but he gave him a small smile, paramedics from the 133 taking Eddie’s colleague away to be checked over.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie said, as though Buck hadn’t just experienced the worst half an hour of his life, from the moment they had gotten the call that dispatch was on fire, arriving on the scene to find the building in flames and so many of their loved ones, friends and colleagues trapped inside. Buck had pulled people out like a man on a mission, looking, always looking, for Eddie. Eddie, who’d apparently been in the midst of the worst of the fire in his uniform, without a single piece of turnout gear, pulling people out of the fire – because firefighting was the kind of thing that was in your blood, a career you could never fully leave behind.

If you asked Buck what his thought process was later, he’d have to admit there hadn’t been much of one. He’d just looked at Eddie, tired, sooty, wonderful Eddie, and all Buck could think was – he could have died, and then he would have never known.

So, he’d kissed him.

Buck cupped Eddie’s face in his hands, wishing for a second, he wasn’t wearing his gloves so he could feel Eddie’s skin, reassure himself he was really fine, and he kissed him. He kissed him like he was a dying man, and this was the last chance he had to save his life – and Eddie had, he’d saved Buck over, and over, and over, and then Eddie had gone and saved himself from a blazing fire in dispatch without so much of a torch to hand, and Buck knew his best friend could keep saving himself, but for once, Buck wanted to be the one that was there for him.

Eddie made a tiny noise of surprise against Buck’s mouth before he kissed him back, arms wrapping around Buck’s waist, and oh – they were going to do this again later, much later, when Buck wasn’t wearing his heavy layers of turnout gear and he could feel Eddie’s hands against his body and reassure himself that Eddie was here, and he was fine, and that they were going to be okay.

Eddie tasted like soot, the lingering scent of burning filling Buck’s nostrils as he kissed him, trying to put every feeling he didn’t have words for into the embrace and explain to Eddie why he couldn’t wait a second longer to do this.

“I thought you were dead,” Buck admitted, and he wasn’t sure if the tears making the blackened soot on Eddie’s face run down his cheeks were Eddie’s own, or Buck’s. He was pretty sure the answer was both, actually.

Eddie gave him a tired smile response. “I’m okay Buck,” he reassured, giving Buck’s waist a squeeze that Buck could feel even through layers of gear. “I knew if I couldn’t get myself out, you’d come find me,” he said, as if he knew Buck was about to break every rule in the LAFD book and walk into that burning building alone to get Eddie.

Buck would have.

“I’ll always come find you,” Buck offered, and he was still holding Eddie’s face in his hands, not caring if the entire Los Angeles metropolitan area was watching him confess his love to his best friend. “You know that right?”

Eddie was the one to kiss him, this time. “I know, Buck.”

[writingwithcolor]

Gingerbread man as golem

@yaronata asked:

I would like to write a character who is Jewish and uses a Golem. She's based on the D&D class of the artificer which looks magic but isn't, because they produce all their effects with inventions, like the "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" quote. Her story is that her very Jewish town was under attack from a terrible monster when she was little. Her Rabbis made a Golem to protect the town, and it succeeded but was torn to pieces in the process. She was fascinated by the Golem and as a kid didn't see a big difference between it's sentience and person's so was really thankful for its sacrifice like you would a person's sacrificing their life for you. They thought all the pieces had been devoured by the monster before it died, but she went looking and found the piece used to animate the Golem, which she, kinda misunderstanding called its "heart". She kept the piece and grew up to be an incredibly skilled cook, specialising as a baker in the town. I imagine she would make a lot of really good food for the Jewish holidays, or to break fasts on ones like Yom Kippur or Tish'abav. But she also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice and the town still being alive, because I feel "we are not dead woo" is a big theme for Jewish holidays from my research, so it could fit, for which she invented ginger bread men to be the golem, and gave them little "hearts" of fruit or honey, and you're meant to eat them limb by limb like the beast did before eating the heart. This would be the inspiration for using the "heart" piece later to make her own giant gingerbread Golem to help her save the world.

These are my questions 1) would it be considered bad or disrespectful for someone who isn't a Rabbi to make a Golem, or is this method of taking an animating piece someone else made disrespectful? 2) Her journey will take her far from her town and her Jewish family and friends and she will likely travel with gentiles. Would it be disrespectful for a Golem to be used to protect a lot of gentiles and one Jew in the course of saving the world? I don't want to fall into the stereotype of someone putting all their effort into valuing and protecting very specifically the group that in real life is oppressive to them. 3) While she is not using magic and is actually mimicking its effects with technology she invents, is this drawing too close to the line of "magical Jew"? 4) I like to "play test" my characters in ttrpgs to really get a feel for them before I write. Would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character when I am a gentile, and would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character in a setting where there are demonstrably real gods other than the one of Judaism?

I really like this character idea and I think it's cute and fun and rooted in Jewish culture but I really want to make sure it's respectful and as good as I, a gentile researching on the internet, thinks it is. Thanks so much! Have a nice day!

My answer to this is very complicated because there are things I both like and do not like about this premise. First of all, I love the idea of a cookie golem, and I'm even imagining the magic word that brings him to life (EMET/truth) would be written in icing. And I'm okay with the part about how she found a piece of the old golem and used it to build a new golem, because that makes sense for a golem made from a baked good when you think about how people use sourdough starter to make a new batch of sourdough.

However, here are the thing that make me cock my head to the side like my little sister's German shepherd:

1. re: "magical Jew" - that's not a trope I've ever heard of. Remember, marginalized groups don't receive identical disrespect across the board. It is indeed a trope to use Black people or disabled people as supernatural plot devices who exist only to further the stories of white main characters or able-bodied main characters. But I can't say as I've ever seen anyone using Jewishness that way. Usually if we are someone's one-dimensional plot device it's as someone's lawyer, fixer, "money guy", etc, not a supernatural force. So this isn't something you have to worry about.

2. I have a certain level of discomfort with you playing as a Jewish character just because playacting as a marginalized culture you're not part of strikes me as off, but I understand that that's how you gain insight into a character you're about to write so it's more of a writing exercise than anything else. (I wonder if D&D regulars from marginalized groups have written about this -- I've only played a few times casually with family so if I did run into this type of discussion in my social justice reading I wouldn't have absorbed it. If anyone is curious I played first as Captain Werewolf, and then switched to playing as Cinnamon Blade because lawful good was too hard. :P )

3. I would prefer you omit the detail about eating the cookies piece by piece symbolically, for two reasons: a. it unintentionally evokes Communion by having appreciative people consume a baked good symbolic of an entity who sacrificed his life for theirs, and b. focusing on the details of flesh consumption reminds me too much of Blood Libel (yes, a gingerbread man is in the shape of a person but how many of us actually think about it literally, the way this act would cause?)

As to your first question: I'm fine with her making a golem even though she's just a rando. Second question: I see what you're saying and maybe it could be more okay if it's really clear how well these gentile folks are treating her? And questions three and four are answered above.

I really do love the idea of a giant gingerbread man golem. Cookie golem T_T <3

--Shira

I would like to second Shira’s point about not ripping apart the gingerbread cookies. I honestly would prefer they were used as decoration, and other cookies eaten instead, since that part just feels so not-Jewish to me, but I don’t have golem-specific issues other than that. It seems like you have already been doing a lot of research, which is appreciated.

As far as the ttrpg/DnD aspect… I bounce back and forth on the topic of playing characters that are so very different from our experiences, other than in fantasy-related ways. However, I am aware that a lot of people will play with, and experiment with gender in game, and learn something about themselves in the process (the number of trans players of ttrpgs who tried out their gender in game before they were out is high). It’s different with Judaism, and even more significantly different when it comes to things you can’t convert into, like various actual, real-world races. But because people do sometimes experience growth from experiences like this, I’m hesitant to dissuade players completely. I do urge you to, at a minimum, bring the same care, research, and willingness to learn, that you brought to this question.

--Dierdra

This sounds like a creative storyline that you could have lots of fun with 😊

At first I was confused by this part:

She also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice

But then you really got me thinking about different types of Jewish holidays and how they come about, so thank you for that!

Because it’s often the little details that either make a story super powerful or kind of nonsensical, I think it would be a good idea to decide what type of holiday is being created here:

A full-blown chag with restrictions on labour and halachic obligations? These are commanded in Torah and new ones can’t be added.

A minor yom tov with halachic obligations but no restrictions? These were instituted by the rabbis prior to the destruction of the Temple, so again new ones can’t be added.

A public holiday or equivalent? This would usually be declared by the Knesset in Israel, and filter to the rest of the Jewish world from there.

A community-based yom tov with specific customs only for people in the know, such as certain Chasidic groups celebrating the birthdays of their deceased leaders? I asked around, but no one can really tell me how these holidays get started, which is probably a good indication that they arise quite organically from a group of people who all just feel that it should be celebrated. Probably not created by a single person, as such.

Something she runs from her bakery, not religion-based, but more like a day of doing special products and deals the way many small businesses do on their anniversary?

Now, if the people of a modern-day town were actually saved by a real live Golem, that would arguably be the most overt miracle for many generations, so there would be a decent chance of options 3 and/or 4 happening. It’s entirely plausible that there could be special foods for this day that become a tradition, including Golem cookies. People who directly benefited might also return to the site where the Golem fought the monster and recite the prayer, ‘Blessed is Hashem, Master of the Universe, Who performed a miracle for me in this place.’

Alternatively, if it’s important that your MC created the holiday, something like option 5 might be the best. Hopefully this will still fulfil what you need: you describe her as incredibly skilled, so I can imagine the day when she goes all out on the Golem cookies being one of the most exciting events of the year for the townspeople, just because her baking is that good. Plus, they already have a personal stake in the Golem’s sacrifice, so I definitely think it could be a thing without being an official holiday. Also, if she is outside of an all-Jewish environment, don’t forget that she would have to decide whether to commemorate the anniversary in the Hebrew calendar or the local one.

Coming back to the cookies, sorry if we’re getting a little repetitive on this point! But I don’t see the cookies being torn limb from limb as part of a celebration. First of all, this doesn’t sound like a very celebratory thing to do, to say the least. Can you imagine explaining that to a three-year-old on their first Yom HaGolem? They would be terrified! (I don’t read this suggestion as accidental anti-Semitism so much as getting carried away with a metaphor, which I’m sure as writers we have all done!)

But also, it’s worth pointing out that our commemorative foods aren’t usually that literal. If you think about hamantaschen, maror, or apple in honey, they’re all symbols. That’s not to say that having Golem-shaped cookies is a problem, as this sounds like just a bit of fun that the MC is having and not something that is directly at odds with Judaism or Jewish culture. But it’s worth bearing in mind that the more literal you go from there in terms of tying the cookies to the event they commemorate, the less culturally aligned your holiday food becomes.

Finally, about the Golem protecting non-Jewish people: I like this idea! There’s a stereotype that we only use whatever is at our disposal to help ourselves and other Jewish people, so a Golem being created by Jews but helping others as well is a big plus for me. Of course, as has already been pointed out, this would be an odd choice if her Saving The World team were anti-Semitic or otherwise disrespectful to her/her community, but I don’t think you were headed that way!

-Shoshi

I have to come back in here just to squee over the phrase “Yom HaGolem.” Well done :D

--Shira

[archived-kin]

a lawyer and a historian walk into a café...

note from kin: it’s modern au time!! in this one you’re a lawyer with yanfei as your prodigy protege (essentially she’s the phoenix wright to your mia fey; you’re like her mentor as she trains to get her law degree), and zhongli’s her history professor dad (+ xiao as her big brother who’s doing some fancy uni degree (and yes, this piece was absolutely an excuse to write about a family dynamic between them))

basically one time she brought her dad and big bro over to your attorney office and zhongli looked at you and fell in love immediately and now yanfei’s playing matchmaker for her dad

(xiao probably feels ooc but that’s mostly because there’s not nearly as much trauma for the poor guy in this au. zhongli took xiao and yanfei in when they were 11 and 7 respectively and he was about 24 so let’s say by this point he’s in his mid thirties, and xiao and yanfei are now 23 and 19. also their family name is zhao!!)

quick edit: i've made a cheat sheet for this au in case you want to know more about it!!

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, zhongli, xiao, yanfei, diluc

pairing(s): zhongli/reader

warning(s): none

genre: fluff!

“Okay, so the grocery store plan didn’t work, and neither did the library plan, or the museum plan…” Yanfei writes something in her notebook in her usual impossibly-perfect cursive and taps her pen restlessly against the table. “What else...?”

“The cat shelter plan didn’t work either,” Xiao puts in absent-mindedly, still mostly occupied by the essay he’s writing. Wasn’t he meant to submit that yesterday? “Or the park plan.”

“Oh, right.” Yanfei adds another two lines to her notes. “Is that all?”

Her brother considers for a moment, pausing in his work to take a bite of his cereal bar. “I think so.”

They fall into silence. Zhongli rounds the kitchen counter and sets two steaming mugs of coffee beside his two children, then takes a seat opposite them on the table with his own cup of tea. “...A-Fei, what’s this about?”

“Your love life,” She responds as if it’s obvious, bending over her notes and scribbling something with extra vigour.

“My love life?” He repeats.

Yanfei nods. “You need to get out of the house more. All you do is read books and drink tea.”

He frowns softly. “I do have a job, you know.”

“She means that you don’t have any friends,” Xiao says flatly, eyes still focused on his screen. “Or hobbies, really. When you’re not working, you’re sitting about reading books and drinking tea - like Fei said.”

“Besides, you really like [Name], don't you?” Yanfei points out. “It’s the perfect opportunity to get out a bit!”

Zhongli’s cheeks go a little pink, and he clears his throat, turning away and bringing his cup to his lips. “A-Fei…”

“What?” Yanfei cocks her head to the side. “[Name] thinks you’re cute, you know. I bet they’d say yes if you asked them on a date.”

He chokes on his tea and sets his cup down. After a moment, tapping his fingers agitatedly on the tabletop, he asks, “...where did you get that impression from?”

“I asked them,” Yanfei says plainly, and Zhongli just about dies of embarrassment on the spot. “Just yesterday. I went ‘So what do you think of my dad?’, and they were all like ‘Yanfei, you didn’t tell me your dad was so pretty!’ I think they’ve been dying to talk about you ever since you visited.”

Zhongli opens his mouth to say something, struggling for words, then abruptly snaps it shut again. Xiao watches him clap his hands to his face over the top of his monitor, then turns to Yanfei with a raised eyebrow. “...was that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it have been?” She replies innocently, tilting her head to the side. “If [Name] likes Dad and Dad likes [Name], there isn’t a problem, is there?”

Her brother shakes his head and reaches over to tug playfully on a lock of her hair. “Well, first of all, do you really want Dad to be dating your teacher?”

“...hmm.” Yanfei pauses to think about it. “...I’m not sure, actually.”

“And I think you’ve just given him an stroke,” He points out, gesturing over the table at their father, who still has yet to remove his hands from his face. “I don’t think he wanted [Name] to know he likes them.”

“I didn’t tell them he likes them, though,” Yanfei says with a small pout. “I just asked them what they thought about him. How would they know?”

“...A-Fei, shouldn’t you be leaving soon?” Zhongli asks finally, removing his hand from his eyes and looking at his daughter with his usual gentle eyes. Yanfei doesn’t miss the way his ears remain a little pink, though. “I believe you’re due to meet [Name] in thirty minutes.”

“Huh?” She raises her wrist to check her watch, then hops off her chair. “Oh, yeah! Can you drop me off?”

“Of course,” He replies with a soft smile, watching as she drains her coffee to dregs and hurries off to change out of her loungewear. The kitchen descends into silence for a moment or two.

“...Fei means well,” Xiao says suddenly. Zhongli turns to see his son giving him a meaningful look over the rim of his own coffee mug. “She just wants you to be happy.”

Zhongli looks at him for a moment, then inclines his head with another, fonder smile. “I know that.”

Xiao nods, and goes back to his essay.

Yanfei comes down in some suitable outdoor clothes about ten minutes later and, with Xiao waving them off with his usual brand of fond dismissiveness, Zhongli and Yanfei head out to the car to set off for the location that Yanfei inputs into the GPS. Zhongli doesn’t miss the way that his daughter keeps sending him almost conspirational looks as he drives.

“...your hair’s kinda messed up.” She says after five minutes or so.

Zhongli keeps his eyes focused on the road as they come to a roundabout. “Does it matter?”

“[Name]’s gonna see you,” She says matter-of-factly. “Don’t you want to look your best?”

“...I hardly think that’s necessary.” He replies after a moment. Yanfei shrugs and goes quiet, but she notes with glee that her father pauses to have a good look at himself in the rear view mirror when they come to a stoplight.

Zhongli surveys himself with a great deal of thoughtfulness, lifting his hand from the wheel to sweep his fringe to the side a little, then changing his mind and pushing it back to where it was. Was Yanfei just teasing him? His hair looks just as it always does - neatly brushed, but a little tousled, and fastened carefully at the back.

He tries to pat down the stubborn little sprigs at the top of his head, but, as usual, they refuse to lay flat. He sighs and, just as he’s deciding to leave it, he spots something odd in the corner of the mirror.

That motorbike - the greenish-blue patterns on its bumper, the red helmet attached to the back, and the demonic-looking mask-like helmet that the rider is wearing… is that Xiao? Is he following them? And why’s he brought Yanfei’s helmet with him?

Zhongli had already begun to have his suspicions when Yanfei asked him to drive her to the meeting place - normally, when she needs to go somewhere, she either skateboards there herself or asks her brother to take her on his bike if it’s too far away - and this only solidifies them. His daughter is most certainly up to something.

Then the lights turn green, and he has to turn back to the wheel. By the time they’re back on a straight enough road with little enough traffic for him to check again, Xiao’s motorbike has disappeared.

“Was that your brother back there?” He asks Yanfei absent-mindedly. She starts and - rather suspiciously - slaps her phone face-down in her lap so that he can’t see the screen.

“Don’t know,” She says. “I wasn’t looking.”

He raises an eyebrow. “...are you texting someone?”

“Um…” She taps her fingers against her leg restlessly. “Yeah.”

A pause. “Is it someone I know?”

She laughs under her breath, poorly disguising it with a cough. “You could say that.”

Her phone goes off, and she hurriedly picks it up to answer the message she’s just received. Zhongli sends her a rather wary side-glance as she starts typing furiously - that text alert is the one that Yanfei has specifically assigned to Xiao. Why would she feel the need to hide the fact that she’s texting her brother?

Yanfei keeps her mouth firmly shut about whatever plan that Zhongli is now certain she has for the rest of the car ride, no matter how much he tries to gently coax the answer out of her. He’s still none the wiser to her intentions as he pulls up to the café marked on the GPS, and he’s beginning to get rather worried - he has a feeling he knows what this is about.

The first thing he notices is that Xiao’s motorbike appears to be parked a little ways down the street, though his son himself is nowhere to be seen. The second thing he notices is you standing outside the café.

You’re dressed far more casually than you’ve been on any of the other occasions that Zhongli’s had the pleasure of seeing you - he’s only ever seen you in your full formal lawyer get-up, perfectly primped and polished for the courtroom, and while that’s a beauteous sight in and of itself, he has to say that he definitely prefers this more comfortable look. It gives you cosy, domestic sort of air; quite the opposite of the strict and business-like way you present yourself while on the job.

Yanfei hops out of the car excitedly and runs to say hello. You greet her with a warm hug, and Zhongli can’t help but feel all fuzzy on the inside at the sight. In the event that he’d ever want a partner, he’s always silently promised himself that whoever he chooses must love his children as much as him - and you’ve always taken good care of his daughter. It’s just another point added to his metaphorical ‘like’ tally.

The two of you exchange words briefly, and Zhongli’s about to start pulling away when Yanfei suddenly turns to point at him. He freezes in his seat as your eyes turn to him, and Yanfei starts gesturing aggressively for him to come over.

Under both of your expectant gazes, he doesn’t really have any choice but to comply. Locking the car doors behind him, he takes a moment to make sure that his shirt is tucked in neatly and that his tie is knotted just-so, then approaches carefully.

Zhongli is usually very much the elegant gentleman, but here’s the thing: whenever one tries to do something a specific way, they’ll almost certainly end up inevitably doing it the complete opposite way. Such is the case for Zhongli; so focused is he on appearing as unbothered and ‘cool’ (as Yanfei would put it) as possible, he forgets to watch his feet, and trips on the edge of the curb.

Yanfei lets out a great laugh as her poor father stumbles and nearly crashes face-first into the pavement, while you hurriedly leap forward to catch him by the arm as he totters. “Goodness! Careful, Mr Zhao.”

“Thank you…” He steadies himself, clearing his throat in embarrassment. A split second later, he realises that you’re touching him. “Ah…!”

He jerks back involuntarily, feeling his face grow even warmer. You look surprised for a moment, then quickly school your expression back into a hospitable smile. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” Zhongli quickly shakes his head, busying his restless hands by readjusting his tie. “You simply… startled me, is all.”

“Startled his heart, more like,” Yanfei teases, grinning widely. “Some entrance that was, Dad!”

He shoots his daughter a reproachful look, to which she replies with a conspirational wink. “...is there something you two need?”

“Oh, not really, it’s just…” Yanfei sticks her hand in one of her pockets and rummages about. “...you need two people to get the couple’s discount, don’t you?”

Zhongli freezes on the spot, while you simply raise an intrigued eyebrow and take the voucher Yanfei holds out. “...Yanfei, don’t tell me you planned this?”

“Well, Xiao helped,” She says brightly, and, as if on cue, her brother’s motorbike roars up to the curb.

“A-Xiao,” Zhongli says in greeting, though he can’t help but sound a little betrayed. His son lifts the visor of his helmet and offers a small wave.

“Nice to see you again,” You say with a smile, and Xiao nods curtly at you in reply. “So, was this your idea?”

He shrugs and smirks a little, tossing Yanfei her helmet, which she catches deftly. “She wouldn’t stop pestering me until I helped her. Anyway, Fei, you ready to go?”

“Yup!” She pulls her helmet on and fastens her jacket more securely, hopping up onto the bike behind him. “Have fun with your date, Dad! You can thank us later!”

She waves goodbye as Xiao revs up the bike, and the two have disappeared down the street before Zhongli can raise any complaint. He stares after them, trying desperately not to meet your eyes.

“...well,” You begin after a long moment, “We wouldn’t want to waste this voucher. What do you say, Mr Zhao?”

He swallows and slowly turns to look at you. “...just Zhongli is fine.”

“Zhongli, then,” You say with a smile that makes him go soft in the knees. Goodness, how much more juvenile can he get? He’s a fully grown man, and has been years - and yet here he is getting all hot around the collar like a schoolboy. “Shall we?”

It takes him a moment to realise what you mean, but you don’t seem to notice the way he stumbles over his words - or, at least, you’re gracious enough not to comment on it. “Of— of course.”

He follows as you lead the way into the café as pauses briefly before to door to take in the atmosphere - it’s cosy, with tasteful dark mahogany-dominated furniture. An enormous mural is painted pride of place behind the counter, where a menu usually would be - a sun rising from a sea of pale orange-tinted clouds. What was it this place was called again - Dawn Coffee? The painting certainly lives up to the café’s name.

You seem to have been here before - you weave through the many tables with the sort of familiarity that only comes with experience, while Zhongli has to keep his eyes trained on his surroundings in order to avoid another incident like the one outside. The café is mostly full already, with all manner of people taking up the various seats - mostly students with about seven empty cups littered about in front of them, some typing furiously and others simply slumped over in exhausted repose.

“Diluc,” You greet as you approach the counter. “Fancy seeing you here.”

The red-haired barista shoots you a deadpan look. “I’m here every day. You should know that by now.”

“And you should know that I’m joking,” You shake your head, then slap the voucher Yanfei had given you down on the countertop. “Anyway - here.”

The barista (Diluc, right?) picks the voucher up and skims briefly over its contents, then looks up and right into Zhongli’s face. Zhongli stares back silently, almost daring him to say something derisive. He may be reduced to putty in your hands, but that’s a power that only you possess. Anyone else remains unable to faze him.

“...right,” Diluc says finally, now looking almost a little uncomfortable under Zhongli’s intense gaze. He wonders if he should tone it down a little. “That’s a twenty five percent discount on any two drink and cake combinations, then. What’s your order?”

“I’ll just have the usual,” You say brightly, “With, ooh, let’s say… a piece of Battenberg. And what’ll you have, Zhongli?”

Zhongli looks around. “Is there a menu…?”

“Over there.” Diluc gestures dispassionately over at two large blackboards on the other wall. Zhongli almost slaps himself - how hadn’t he noticed it?

“Ah...” He skims briefly through it. None of the teas offered are ones that he particularly enjoys, which is a little disappointing, but he supposes beggars can’t be choosers. “A matcha tea, please.”

Diluc taps something into his register. “Just the plain tea, or would you prefer a latte?”

“A latte…?” Zhongli repeats, a little lost. Tea rooms are much more his forté than cafès, and he’s not entirely sure how things work.

“Lattes are milk based,” You explain helpfully, “Usually sweeter, too.”

“Oh.” Zhongli shakes his head. He’s always been lactose intolerant - it’s why he prefers herbal teas over any other hot drink. No milk required. “Just plain tea, thank you.”

“Alright,” Diluc types something. “And what kind of cake do you want with that?”

“...how about a slice of Madeira?” You suggest as Zhongli goes silent, looking bewildered. “Nice and simple.”

He nods, still a little confused, and Diluc puts one last thing into his register, prints out a receipt, and hands it to you. You turn to Zhongli as Diluc moves away to start making your drinks.

“Haven’t been to many cafés before, have you?” Your eyes twinkle teasingly, and Zhongli can’t help but flush a little.

“No,” He says slowly. “I’ve never particularly liked them…”

You chuckle, and Zhongli has to fight back a lovestruck smile of his own. “You’d better not let Diluc hear that. His dad owns this place.”

“Are the two of you… familiar?” He asks. He’s not entirely sure that he wants to hear the answer - especially considering the way you laugh after he’s finished speaking.

“I had to defend him once,” You reply, “Nearly a year to the day, actually. Poor guy got himself accused of murdering a homeless man just around the block.”

“I still don’t know how you managed to get a not guilty verdict so quickly,” Diluc comments, coming up to the counter and setting down a tray with two steaming mugs on it. He moves to the side and opens the cabinet of pastries to retrieve the slices cake you’ve ordered.

“Evidence, my dear Ragnvindr,” You say playfully. “Surprisingly enough, it’s easy to get a not guilty verdict when you have rock-hard evidence that your client isn’t guilty.”

Diluc shakes his head in apparent disapproval, but Zhongli catches the way his lip quirks up as he sets down two colourful (and, honestly, very delicious-looking) slices of cake, each on their own dainty little place, on the tray. “Well, here’s your order. Who’ll be paying?”

Zhongli quickly reaches into his pocket, opening his mouth to offer to foot the bill, then suddenly shuts it again when he feels nothing but crumpled-up paper. He sighs mentally. He’s gone and left his wallet behind again. That’s, what, the third time this week? And it’s only Tuesday...

Luckily, he doesn’t need to confess his forgetfulness, because you immediately pull your own wallet out of your pocket and slap a crisp bill on the counter. “Here. Keep the change.”

“How generous,” Diluc says dryly as you laugh. “I believe your usual spot is free for now, so you should hurry.”

You nod, reaching forward to take the tray. “Right. Thanks!”

Zhongli hovers for a moment as you start masterfully working your way back through the maze of tables to an unoccupied corner. As he turns to follow, however, Diluc calls out to him.

“Wait.”

Zhongli pauses. He contemplates ignoring the barista for a moment, then decides that it’s not worth the pettiness, and turns back around.

“Do you need something?” He asks.

Diluc gives him a searching look. Zhongli gets the feeling that he’s trying very hard to read something from his expression.

“...your daughter wants to let you know that she’s cancelling afternoon tea for two weeks if you don’t make a move,” He says finally.

“...what?” Zhongli’s so surprised that he’s unable to prevent his eyebrows from flying up. So much for his stoic act. “You know A-Fei?”

“Is that her name?” Diluc picks up the piece of paper he’d been reading when you and Zhongli had first entered and holds it out. Zhongli takes it carefully. “She stopped by this morning and gave me this.”

Zhongli reads over the note. It’s Yanfei’s penmanship, alright. How long has she been planning this for? “...right. Thank you.”

“One more thing,” Diluc adds as Zhongli turns to join you at your table. “[Name] seems to like you a lot. Don’t mess this up.”

Zhongli pauses. He glances over at you, and you wave with a grin. For a moment, the café seems to fall away - and there is nothing but the distance between the two of you, and the warmth of your smile.

Heart resolved, he turns back to Diluc, and nods firmly. “I won’t.”

[goingmorry]

Hellooo I love your writing soooo much >>•<<

Could you please write headcanons of ASL sister introducing Smoker as her fiancé ? Thank you so much !

[One Piece Headcanons] ASL Brothers -> when you introduce Smoker as your fiancé

Characters: Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Smoker

Tags: female reader, overprotective brothers

Author's Note: Thank you for the cute request! I got carried away and added short scenarios for each brother's reaction and a little extra at the end. I hope you like it! 💖

PORTGAS D. ACE

Goes from 😯 to 😡 to 🤬

Ace.exe has stopped working.

He's the 2nd Division Commander of the esteemed Whitebeard Pirates; who in their right mind would think it would be a good idea for him — the son of the late Pirate King — to meet a Marine Vice-Admiral?

Cue war flashbacks of when Garp showered him, Luffy, and Sabo with his "fists of love" for sharing their childhood dreams of becoming pirates.

Goes through all seven stages of grief and complains to Sabo every single time.

Threatens Smoker every chance he gets. The Marine Vice-Admiral repays in kind when you're not around.

Doesn't warm up to the idea of you and Smoker as a couple except on your wedding day.

"Behave yourself," you whisper to your fiancé, soft hands tightly gripping his muscular bicep in warning.

"I'm on my best behavior. It's your brother who needs to behave," Smoker says bluntly, brown eyes observing the freckled pirate's reaction to you and your beau's interlocked arms.

Ace stares, and stares, and stares — at his little sister and the familiar white-haired man he encountered early on during his journey to Alabasta — dumbfounded at the scene before him.

"Fire Fist," the Marine Vice-Admiral calls out, breaking him from his reverie.

"You—" Ace yells, flames erupting from the tips of his fingers to rapidly engulf his entire first.

Before your fiancé can return your fiery brother's sudden display of aggression, you step in between their bodies, eyes alight with fury.

"Stop it!" you scold Ace, extending your pointer finger and thumb to pinch his ear in retaliation.

He frowns at you, but obliges, flames extinguishing from his curled fist. "We need to talk. Now."

Not waiting for your response, Ace saunters off toward his bedroom at the other end of the hallway, posture stiff and robotic. To anyone, outsider or not, it was evident from Ace's appearance and demeanor that the usually friendly pirate was clearly not in a good mood.

"Just wait here. I won't be long," you say to Smoker before dashing off in pursuit of your freckled brother.

When you close the door to his bedroom, Ace begins his tirade, arms crossed against his bare chest as he faces your more petite frame.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

You look at him in bewilderment but don't say a word, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Him! That—that big oaf! There are millions of men in this world! And it has to be him? I don't approve!" Ace doesn't stop himself from frantically gesturing at the closed door — the only piece of barrier, aside from him, of course — separating you from your fiancé.

You frown at Ace's insult, adopting a defensive stance. "Don't call him that! And I don't need your permission, you know. Why are you acting like this?"

"You're my little sister! Of course, I'm concerned!" Ace adjusts himself from the desk he was leaning on. "Do you know what he's done to Luffy?"

You shakily exhale at his accusatory tone. "I know! We've talked about this. He's promised to look the other way when it comes to our family."

"And you believe him?"

"Of course, I do! He hasn't given me any reason to doubt him."

"He's not exactly husband material," Ace interjects, to which you roll your eyes. At this point, it was apparent to you that your big brother was grasping at straws, finding reasons — however shallow they may be — to make you reconsider this marriage.

"He dresses better than you, that's for sure," you say childishly.

Ace's eyebrows furrow, taking great offense to your statement. "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're always strutting around like you own the place. Shirtless and all," you comment, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "Have some common decency at least."

"He's not wearing a shirt either!" Ace says indignantly.

"No, but he has a jacket—"

"That he leaves open all the time, which basically makes it useless," Ace argues, "Why bother if you're not even gonna wear it properly?"

"Argh, forget it. I don't want to talk about this anymore," you say, burying your face in your hands.

Ace takes the hint, feeling guilty as he walks over to your defeated form to rub circles on your back slowly.

A truce, for now.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime later, when you return from Ace's bedroom, you find your fiancé calmly sitting on the corner of the couch. Without a word, you plop down beside him and rest your head on the crook of his shoulder.

Smoker takes a deep drag of his cigars, observing your distraught appearance and the lack of a certain cowboy-hat-wearing pirate. "Well, that went well."

SABO

Goes from 😟 to 😩 to 😭

Dies a little bit on the inside.

His precious little sister finally finds love, and who's her betrothed? The infamous White Hunter himself.

He expected this behavior from Ace, but you?

Discreetly pulls you aside to express his disapproval.

Learns to cope and eventually warms up to your relationship with the Marine. How can he not when you look so happy?

De-escalates arguments between Ace and your lover every single time.

"Sabo!" You pull your big brother into an embrace which he reciprocates.

When the blond Revolutionary notices the white-haired man standing behind you, he stiffens, gloved hand reaching behind his back to clasp his metal pipe.

Noticing your older brother's sudden alertness, you nudge his side in reassurance. "This is the fiancé I've been telling you about."

Sabo quickly puts two and two together. All those conversations you've had with him, and not once did you mention that you were engaged to an officer of the Marines. And not just any Marine officer, you were engaged to the Commander of the notorious G-5 base.

In an effort to remain composed, Sabo forces a half-hearted smile — appearing more like a grimace really, but an action you appreciated nonetheless - and extends his right arm to your fiancé for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you."

Ignoring the daggers you were glaring at the side of his face, Smoker hesitantly grips the blond Revolutionary's hand. "Pleasure," he grunts out, letting out a puff of white smoke from his cigars.

For a moment, the two men clasp at each other's hand in a show of fake camaraderie.

Choosing to ignore the growing tension thick in the air, you clap your hands together in mock enthusiasm.

"Great! Let's meet the rest of the family, shall we?"

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Goes from 😁 to 😊 to 🥳

The only one who's okay with your relationship with Smoker.

He's survived having Garp, the Hero of the Marines, as his grandfather; he can certainly handle an additional Marine in the family.

Gets along with your fiancé the best, though Smoker himself denies this.

"Woah, what's Smokey doing here?" Luffy says in awe, looking back and forth between you and the Marine.

You tap your feet in nervousness, gesturing between Smoker and your youngest brother.

"Luffy, this is my fiancé. Smoker, this is my little brother."

"I know who Straw Hat Luffy is," Smoker says impatiently, barely glancing at the pirate standing a few feet in front of him.

"You haven't been formally introduced to each other, have you?" you say indignantly, hips cocked to one side as you stare at your fiancé's tepid behavior.

"In a normal setting, I mean," you clarify, "You chasing him and his crew does NOT count."

Smoker shrugs at your accusation, and you sigh.

Luffy laughs at your scolding, looking up at the Marine. "It's okay. I meant what I said in Alabasta. I don't hate you, y'know?"

You smile at your little brother's statement. You could always count on Luffy to be accepting of your partner, whoever they may be. Also, he wasn't the type to dwell on the past, preferring instead to live in the moment. And that moment was your engagement to the Marine Vice-Admiral, the same man who used to hunt Luffy and his crew throughout the Grand Line for being wanted criminals.

'Tsk' is all Smoker says to the straw hat pirate's proclamation, earning a disapproving pinch to his side from you.

"Be nice," you whisper harshly to your fiancé's ear.

The sound of your little brother's joyous laughter is enough for the normally serious Marine to let out a small smile.

BONUS BELOW LMAO

MONKEY D. GARP

Goes from 😌 to 🥰 to 🤗

T H R I L L E D that his grandson-in-law is a respectable Marine.

The epitome of Proud Father Figure™

Compares the ASL brothers to Smoker every chance he gets during family reunions.

"Y'hear that Luffy? Smoker just caught a band of no-good pirates terrorizing the local townsfolk." Luffy picks his nose in acknowledgment.

Garp points an accusatory finger at Ace. "You damn brat, why couldn't you listen to me and become a Marine like I told you to?"

Garp gives a disapproving glare to Sabo. "And you! Why'd you have to join the shady Revolutionaries and become a wanted criminal like my son?"

Garp proceeds to give the ASL brothers multiple rounds of his fists of love. Meanwhile, he smooches your forehead in happiness for finding a suitable husband.

You and Smoker live happily ever after. The end.

[nejibaby]

The Sun

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader

Summary: If there’s two things common between you and Icarus, they’re 1) you both tried to get too close to the sun, and 2) you’re both mortal — vulnerable and susceptible to the pain that comes with it.

This is initially intended to be the second part of Burn, but this can also be considered a standalone fic. 😊

[I also tweaked the story of Icarus and Daedalus a little bit so they can fit the One Piece universe. Hope you don’t mind.]

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: So you see I’m trying out this new writing style, but I’m not sure if it turned out how I wanted it to be. But please let me know your thoughts about it~

Icarus.

Back when you still lived in your hometown, as a child, you have grown to like the tales of sailors who docked at your island. There’s this story about one of the first ever heard of uses of devil fruit powers.

It’s about a master craftsman named Daedalus imprisoned in some far away kingdom with his son, Icarus. With their cell up high in the castle and the ground filled with guards, there was no means to escape for an average person. But Daedalus was all sorts of things other than average; he’s a father, a genius, and a devil fruit user of the Doru Doru no Mi. And because of those, he has found a way to get out of the kingdom through something that only he can make: wings made out of candle wax.

“Don’t fly too close to the sun or else the heat will melt the wax and you’ll fall into the sea.” A fair warning from Daedalus to Icarus as he handed a pair of wings to his son, who only nodded in response.

Their escape went on without a hitch with the help of the wings. However, because of the delectable taste of freedom, the further away they had gone from the kingdom that constricted them, the more precarious Icarus got. He flew higher and higher and higher, until his wings started melting. And only when he was falling to the sea did he notice that the wings had melted off completely. Even Daedalus had noticed it too late, and all he could’ve done was lament for his son who didn’t heed his words.

“It was tragic,” the sailor once told you. But all you could ever think about back then was that Icarus was dumb. Foolish. Idiotic. Stupid. Moronic.

Why would he fly higher when he knew the risks? It just didn’t make sense. There was no rational explanation, no sensible justification for it.

But now that you’re older, you might have found a possible reason why he did what he did.

Maybe, just like you, he fell in love with the sun.

The Sun.

Icarus might have fallen in love with the sun. But who are you to judge him? The sun is bright, brilliant, warm, and enticing. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be guided by its light, to bask in its warmth, to ever so gently be caressed by its flames. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be nearer, despite the repercussions.

You can’t call him out because you did just the same. Ace was — no — is your sun.

With his charming and boyish smile that’s always capable of cheering you up, you can mistake him as the light. He’s like the sun peeking from the clouds after a stormy day, or the sun rising after the darkest night.

In his embrace, no matter how momentary, anyone would be able to feel his care. Hell, even with his arm slung over your shoulder or his mere presence beside you, you would feel a sense of security. Because Ace is also the warmth and the comfort. Pretty much like the gentle rays of the sun enveloping you with a blanket after a cold breeze.

But you also know that like the sun, he too is dangerous. The least he can do is to burn you. And at the very worst, he could be destructive.

The Fall.

When Icarus got too close to the sun, his wings melted and naturally, he fell into the sea. There were no stories about how he felt or what was in his mind when it happened, but recently you’d like to imagine that he was content.

Falling is scary, that much is true. But falling can also be exhilarating and thrilling — it’s feeling only your weightlessness, the breathlessness, the adrenaline flowing through your blood.

You’d like to think that as Icarus fell, his thoughts were about how he did not regret what he did. In the end, he got his freedom and then he made a brave choice of going after his love. Isn’t it better to have felt the burning light than never at all? Isn’t it better to have a taste of love albeit briefly?

You’re no Icarus. You’re not a child of a genius, and you have no wings that’ll melt once you get close to your sun. But for you, the answer to these questions is yes.

You’re grateful to have experienced being by Ace’s side. You’re happy to have seen his smiles and to have heard his laughs. You’re content to have been the recipient of his sparing touches.

And as you ran with bloodied hands and injured parts after escaping from the Blackbeard Pirates, you’re pleased that it was you in this predicament and not Ace. He’s safe and it’s because of you. And despite standing face to face with death just moments ago, you’re delighted because you accomplished your mission to get information about their plans.

If there’s one thing you and Icarus should regret though, it’s being vulnerable and susceptible to pain.

The Reunion.

Icarus did not live long enough to be reunited with the sun. But you did. Your body might have been littered with scars now, but the important thing is that you survived. You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re at peace.

And you’re back with the Whitebeard Pirates.

Whitebeard, the Division Commanders, and the former members of the Spade pirates are quick to reprimand you for your rash actions once you board the ship. You listen to their sentiments quietly, understanding the severity of your decision, but you stand by your ground, telling them you didn’t regret doing it, especially since you’ve gotten valuable information about Blackbeard. And once you’ve relayed everything to them, they all quickly let you off the hook.

All except one, of course.

You’re just about to retire to your room when Ace softly asks, “Yo, can we talk?” once you pass him by.

The sun is always so inviting. It’s capable of luring you out of whatever cave you’re hiding in. That’s the aura Ace gives off when you turn to look at him. So you nod your head and follow him to a more private area on the ship.

At this moment, you can’t help but think that the sun and the planets are bound by the laws of science. Science tells us that planets orbit around the sun because of attraction, however, they must never cross the line. This has been your mistake in the past, but now you know better. And so now you try to physically distance yourself from him.

Ace doesn’t comment on the distance. You aren’t sure if he even noticed. Instead he asks, “Why did you do it?”

You raise your brow, “We wanted information, right?”

“I was the one who should’ve been doing that. I’m his Commander. I’m the one who’s supposed to be responsible for that.”

You scoff. “It’s done now, let’s not dwell on it anymore—”

“But you could’ve died!”

“So what? Would you rather it was you? Because I don’t! If you died… if you died…” you choked back a sob. You didn’t want to think about him dying. Just the thought of it is enough to tug your heartstrings.

The sight of you softens him up right away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he tries soothing you. “I’m not gonna die.”

“You say that, but even the sun will die eventually. And I don’t want to witness that tragedy.”

This shuts Ace up. He didn’t really understand how much he matters to you until now. Seeing you crumble with just the thought of him dying makes him realize that your confession to him before the two of you parted was indeed the truth. “You’re right. I’m sorry…”

You could only bite your lip to calm yourself down.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking when you were away…” Ace murmurs. “And my thoughts were always about you.”

You gulp as your heart rate accelerates. Will he be turning you down properly this time? Give you the confirmation and closure that you need?

If you focus on your thoughts, you can hear a chant in your head: The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love.

But you reason, that’s okay. The sun is bound by the laws of science and one of its main purposes for its existence is to provide light. And you will not hold Ace back from doing that. If he doesn’t love you, it’s fine, you’ll be fine.

“I thought… you didn’t like me,” Ace says.

This statement catches your attention immediately. You’re about to object but he continues, “Because you always called me ‘Captain’ and then ‘Commander,’ and never by my name. And I thought that that was you drawing the line between us.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not good at these things,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

But you remain tense, trying to comprehend what’s happening.

Ace takes a small step toward you.

And you couldn’t help but think that if Ace gets closer, you’ll burn once again.

Yet you watch with wide eyes, not stopping him as he gets closer and closer and closer.

At this point you can only hear how wildly your heart is beating across your chest.

And when Ace raises his hand to tenderly touch your cheek, you realize: The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.

Which could only mean one thing: his focus has always been on you.

“I love you, my angel,” Ace whispers as he presses his forehead against yours. “I’m in love with you,” and he seals his admission with a kiss.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Time of Death

Dr. Derek Shepherd x Reader

Words: 1966

Summary: Receiving the news after coming out of a long surgery, Derek rushes to comfort his fiancé whose sister committed suicide.

Notes: I hope to write some fluffier McDreamy imagines and more for Grey’s Anatomy, but when I got this idea, I had to go with it. This is a very very dark story, so it will not be for everyone, but I really had an interesting time writing it. As always, I’d love to know your thoughts and if you guys are excited for more Grey’s Anatomy imagines. 

Warnings: Suicide, grief, guilt (This starts out fast so I’m putting the break at the beginning so if you don’t want to read, you don’t have to.)

-

You couldn’t hear them say it but you still heard it in your head. Time of death… You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the clock. Time had stopped. Everything had stopped. As you looked down from the gallery, nobody in the O.R. seemed to be moving an inch. Until Dr. Bailey looked up at you. As soon as your eyes connected, everything started again but it started too fast. Your heart was beating too fast, your legs were moving too fast, the tears were coming too fast. 

Your sister was dead. She threw herself in front of oncoming traffic. Her body was so broken that even Bailey couldn’t put it back together. Your baby sister killed herself. 

Nurses and doctors alike watched you sprint by.  Fellow residents, interns, attendants, all of them watched you run like maniac through the halls of the surgical wing. Of course, you were careful not to be in anyone’s way, but you had to disappear. 

“What’s with Mrs. McDreamy?” Cristina asked George and Meridith quietly. 

“Her sister just died on the table.” Izzy sighed, having been with you in the gallery. She looked at the floor. “Jumped in front of a car.” The other interns’ eyes widened. 

“She killed herself?” Meredith whispered, her gaze following your running form down the hall. “Has anybody told…”

“He’s been in surgery for hours.” Cristina shook her head. “I doubt he even knows she was admitted.” 

“Should someone page him? Should someone go get Y/N?” George wondered but nobody moved. They all just looked at each other. Cristina crossed her arms. 

“I’ll go. Somebody has to go tell Dr. Shepherd that his future sister in law turned herself into roadkill.” 

“No.” Meredith blurted. Cristina’s bluntness was the last thing anyone needed right now. “I’ll tell him.” Meredith and Derek were at least friends. He needed to hear this from a friend. 

-

Derek smiled as the water ran over his hands. After several long hours, the surgery was a success. The 18-year-old girl was going to be okay. Thanks to him. Another life saved. His smile grew when Meredith stepped into the room. 

“Dr. Grey, you missed a pretty amazing surgery.” He beamed. Something about her face was off. 

“I’m sure you did very well Dr. Shepherd.” She wasn’t looking at him. 

“Meredith what is it?” He dried his hands quickly and followed her out into the hall. Her expression made that cocky smile of his fall. “Meredith?”

“A Cierra Y/L/N was admitted about when you started your surgery.”

“Y/N’s sister?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that she ran in front of a semi truck. Dr. Bailey did everything she could but… she’s dead, Derek.” 

“Cierra… killed herself?” Derek ran a hand down his face. “Does anyone know why? Are they sure that’s what happened? Does Y/N know?”

“We all saw her run down the hallway, so I’d say she knows.” 

“Do you know where she went?” He exclaimed, raising his voice. He didn’t have time for the doe-eyed confusion. He needed to know where you were. Meredith just shook her head. He calmed down enough so he wouldn’t yell. “Thank you for getting me.”

He took off, scanning the hall for any sign of his fiance. As he hurried past doctors and patients, he thought of Cierra. He’d never even met her. Sure, you had mentioned that you had a younger sister, but you didn’t say much other than that. But suicide? It was how you lost your mom when you were in medical school. This was going to hit hard and he needed to make sure there would be pieces of you left. 

“Dr. Shepherd!” A voice called out behind him. He reluctantly stopped his pursuit to turn to Dr. Bailey. She gave him a sad, grim look. “We did everything we could, but the extent of her injuries… I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.” 

“Have you seen Y/N?” 

“Since she couldn’t operate with us, she stayed and watched from the gallery.” She sighed. She paused for a second before putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think I know where she might have gone.” 

Bailey had found you there once before. You’d lost a patient and needed a quiet place to be alone. If there was ever a time you needed a quiet place to go, it’d be now. She brought Derek to a closet on the fourth floor. It was mostly filled with extra linens and paper and such so it wasn’t used often. Bailey knocked on the door, but received no response. Slowly, she opened the door. 

“Dr. Shepherd?” She called out into the dark storage room. With still no response, she let Derek pass her. 

“Y/N? Honey, I know you’re in here.” His eyes adjusted and he could see a form standing behind one of the shelves in the corner. He exchanged a look with Bailey. She nodded in understanding. 

“I’ll go tell the chief. You’ll probably want to be heading home.” As she turned to leave, Derek put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Thank you, Miranda.” 

The chief resident quietly closed the door behind her and Derek walked further into the closet. The closet may have been small, but you felt far away. Hearing the sound of him approaching, you turned your head. 

“Cierra is… she’s- they said that she-” Every time you tried to finish the sentence, your mouth stopped. Like your body was trying to deny what your mind clearly knew. Derek tentatively put his hands on your shoulders. When did he get in front of you? 

“I know.” 

He pulled you to his chest and you tried not to push away. You wanted to. You wanted to run again. But his arms wouldn’t let you. He kept you from drifting away. 

-

Chief Webber had all of your surgeries for the next few days rescheduled or taken over by Dr. Bailey. Derek rescheduled the ones that he could, but some of his surgeries were on a time crunch. After he drove you home, he was paged back to the hospital for an emergency. He told you what it was, but you couldn’t remember. 

You didn’t even remember the drive home. You remembered the bloody surgical tools and the machines and the clock, but it didn’t have any numbers on it. You remembered running in the halls and Derek finding you in the closet. Now you were home. Now you were alone. Alone with the knowledge that you killed your little sister. 

Your brain started a single train of thought. You moved slowly, every motion draining more and more energy out of you, but you still made your way to your closet and found your suitcase. You couldn’t put this much pain, this much baggage on someone with a heart like his. To you, this was mercy. 

-

When Derek finally returned home, not a single light in the house was on. His shoulders were weighed down as he tossed his keys on the counter. The surgery was a success, but he didn’t feel that usual rush of adrenaline that came from saving a life. He just wanted to get back to you. 

He was about to call out for you when he saw something catch the light. Sitting on the kitchen table was your engagement ring. 

“Y/N!” He called out, tucking the band into his pocket and ascending the stairs two at a time. He burst into the bedroom and found your suitcase sitting on the bed, clothes hurriedly piled inside. “Y/N!” 

Light pooled into the room from underneath the bathroom door and was sure he could hear something inside. Derek knocked lightly before slowly cracking the door open. 

“Y/N?” His voice was quieter now but still held the same amount of urgency. You just whimpered in response. He opened the door fully, finding you sitting on the bathroom floor having thrown up any meals you had that day. 

“It’s my fault, Derek.” You cried, your voice so low he could barely hear you. “Cierra killed herself because of me. I can’t force you to live with that too.” You pulled your knees up to your chest. 

“Honey…” Derek sat beside you, putting on a hand on your cheek to make you look at him. “Cierra was sick. She’d been sick for a really long time.”

“She was sick because I left her.” You spat, jerking away. “I abandoned her when I moved here for my residency. I knew what she was going through, stuck living with my dad, and I went off to medical school anyway.”

“Deciding to make a life for yourself and to help save lives was not abandoning her.” He took your hand in his and this time, you didn’t pull away. “Y/N, you called Cierra every chance that you got. As far as you knew, she was getting help in San Diego. She told you she was getting better. You couldn’t have known how bad it had gotten.” 

“Then why did she come here, Derek?” You felt that sick feeling in your stomach turning and twisting again. “Why drive up to Seattle and jump into oncoming traffic close enough to be taken to Seattle Grace unless she blamed me?” 

Derek was quiet for a moment. Your body was still shaking from both sobs and from getting sick and you looked desperate for answers that he couldn’t give. 

“Maybe she wanted to see you one last time. This was her way of doing that.” 

It may not have been the answer you wanted to hear, but it was enough to get you to calm down. Derek shifted so that you were sitting in front of him, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your arms from behind. He gently kissed the top of your head and pulled your ring out of his pocket. 

“As for this…” He held the band out in front of you. You just stared at it, laying your head back against his shoulder. 

“I was leaving.” You were half packed before your body ached so much it made you sick. 

“I noticed that.” Derek blew out a long breath. “You said you ‘couldn’t force me to live with that’. Is that how you think? That leaving will spare me of your faults?” 

“I didn’t think that you…” You sighed, trying to collect your reasoning into words. You spun around so you were facing him, holding his hands in your lap. “Derek, you love saving lives. You walk into life ready to save someone else’s. I couldn’t make you look at me everyday knowing that I was responsible for Cierra’s death.” 

Derek lifted your hands up to his chest and laid them flat over his heart. 

“This day- this tragedy- does not define who you are. You are still the beautiful, talented, brilliant surgeon that I fell in love with. The one I asked to marry me. You will still be that woman tomorrow and the next day and the one after that. And if you ever need reminding I will ask you to marry me every single day until we walk down that aisle together because I’m not backing out. Better or worse.” His gaze searched yours for a reaction. “Okay?” 

All you could do was nod and lean back into his embrace. You stayed there on the bathroom floor, his legs on either side of you and your head tilted back against his chest. While Derek’s words didn’t erase everything from that day, they helped to take even just a little of the weight off of your heart. It was enough, at least for now and so you slipped your ring back onto your finger and fell asleep in his arms.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[vemuabhi]

Let Go - Law

Hey so... I just completed writing this fic and it is my entry for 2.5K followers Event hosted by @some-piece​ 

I really hope this fic is okay for entry or else please mention it to me, I can write another fic.

I was listening to Let Go - BTS (Try listening to it, you’ll not regret it)

Pairing : Law X Fem! Reader (Doctor X Patient)

Prompt : “I knew I shouldn’t be here”

Word count : 1.4K

Warnings : Heavy angst, Cancer, Taken place in a hospital, Mention of Death, The most angst I’ve ever written in my life (Without warning, I made my sister to read it and it kind made her to grab my throat, So, You have been warned)

Summary : Law, a doctor in a cancer hospital, falls in love with his patient. A Doctor and Patient shouldn’t be in a relationship but he couldn’t help but to fall in love with his weak patient. (I suck at writing summaries)

Law sighed as he held the door knob to the room number 7. His shift was over and he could go home. But he wanted to stay for a while. ‘Should I enter?’, he thought before opening the door and entering the white room. The pastel blue curtains of the window were fluttering because of the breeze.

There he saw you, staring out of the window as tears dripped down your face. His heart sank to you see you like that. You felt someone staring at you so you looked to your side and saw the doctor who was treating you. You immediately wiped your tears and gave a sad smile to the doctor. “What are you doing here doctor? I thought your shift was over and its late”

“I knew I shouldn’t be here but, I just felt like checking up on you before I left”, he said as he came towards you.

“Oh! Thanks though as you can see, I got much uglier now”, your voice cracked as you tried to hold in your tears but still smiled at the doctor. He clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Why would you say that?” he questioned as he placed his hand on your cheek. “For me you are still the most beautiful person so don’t you dare say that”, you couldn’t stop the tears now. He soothed those tears away from your cheek and continued, “I don’t care if you have hair or not. You are still beautiful”.

Leaning into his touch you smiled, still tears spilling out from your eyes. “Doctor, after your check up today, the nurse said it was necessary to cut my hair. After I agreed they shaved my head and I couldn’t stop crying from that time”, you murmured in monotone to him for which he just listened as he looked into your eyes. It was necessary for the continuation of treatment so he had no choice but to have it done.

“I am sorry I couldn’t be with you when they wer-”

“Don’t apologise. You are a doctor have so many other patients to take care of as well”, you didn’t let him finish his sentence. Law smiled and leaned into you and whispered, “Y/N, it’s alright. You’ll grow your hair again. I’ll make sure you get healthy”. You sniffed back your tears and nodded. He pulled back and helped you to lay down on the bed. Before leaving he patted your head soothingly making you fell a bit better about your condition.

3 Months passed making it a total of 5 months treatment and there was absolutely no improvement in your cancer treatment. Law was trying so hard to change diet plans, trying to use more expensive medicines to make you healthy but nothing seemed to work. But he couldn’t give up.

One day you felt really weak and lost your consciousness. When you woke up, it was already late, you found yourself in your bed with some machines and computers beside you. “Y/N, how are you feeling now?” a deep voice asked with concern. You saw the doctor with gold eyes and dark circles under his eyes, standing beside you as his hands held your bed. ‘He didn’t leave even if his shift is over?’, you thought.

You chuckled and replied, “Its fine doctor. Please don’t worry about me who has no time left”, making his heart clench. He didn’t like this.

He sat beside you and took your hand in his and sighed, “Don’t say such things. You’ll be fine”.

“It’s okay doctor. You tried your best”, you smiled at him as he bit his lip trying to control his emotions.

“I like you doctor”, you said making him look at you, “I’ve liked you for a while now. I’m telling this because I am scared that I won’t get another chance”, he lifted your hand and leaned his forehead on it.

“I like you too. I shouldn’t have feelings for my patient but… I couldn’t help it”, he gulped still avoiding your gaze. He exhaled and continued, “I actually would love if you give me a chance”.

“Do… Do you think, if we would’ve met some other time and I wasn’t sick, we could’ve given a chance… to us?”, you asked gaining his attention. He smiled weakly and replied, “We still have a chance, what do you say? Wanna be my girlfriend?”.

You chuckled as he asked that big question. ‘I dont have much time anyway so why not’, you thought and agreed by saying, “I would happily be your girlfriend”. Law smiled and kissed your hand which he was holding.

After another 10 days with nothing but a really affectionate doctor beside you, whenever he could get the chance. You both knew you were getting weaker day by day but still stayed happy. But on the 11th day, you again lost your consciousness.

When you opened your eyes, you again found the doctor right beside you. His eyes were red and puffy. It seemed like it was late and he stayed back again for you. “Doctor were you crying because of me?”, you asked and wanted to ruffle his hair but, you felt too weak to even lift your arm.

“What? why would I cry? You are getting fine and there is no reason for me to be sad”, he tried to lie but you knew the doctor from past 5 months now.

“You are so sweet for trying to cheer me up Doctor”, you said tried your best to lift your hand. He didn’t fail to notice it and laced his fingers with yours, knowing you wanted to do it.

“I am a failure as a doctor Y/N, I am good for nothing”, he said as he again lifted your hand up and towards his lips, to kiss it. You shake your head sideways. “You are the best doctor a patient can ever have and also the lovely boyfriend one can ask for”, you smiled weakly making his eyes to tear up.

“Don’t cry doctor. You shouldn’t cry for me. I am just not strong enough”, he leaned into your touch and denied it.

“I want you to know something doctor so please listen to me”, you said and he nodded still not letting you go.

“I always loved my parents and the friends who always cared or me”, you took a breath and continued, “I am in love with you. From the time you took care of me, from the time I got admitted in the hospital”.

He soothed your tears as you continued to talk. “Doctor, you are really talented. Please do take care of yourself”, your voice whimpered as you were holding most of the pain in your heart. Law didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to even miss a single word of yours. But his tears were spilling out of his eyes.

“From now, you don’t have to stay back for me, so please get some sleep”, he teared up even more because of your words. “Doctor, please don’t blame yourself. I really was happy because of you. You made my time here colourful”, you smiled and continued, “I love you so, please forget me as soon as you can”. Each and every word from your lips was hurting him so much.

“I can’t… Y/N, that’s way too hard”, he spoke after a long time because he needed to let you know, “Because I love you too”, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips and wiped your tears away with his slender fingers.

“Can I touch your hair?” you asked and your hand was instantly on his black hair. “It’s so soft and has the smoothest texture”, you said and after a while he pulled your hand back to his lips to place kisses on it.

“Woah! And you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and I’m not even kidding”, he said making you to smile at him again.

“Thank you for everything Doctor Law”, you said and lost your consciousness, except for the last time now.

He stayed very quiet for a while as the machine beeped because it couldn’t read any heartbeat now. He gulped and caressed his thumb over your cheek to wipe the last tear away. He knew it would happen. But he wasn’t ready to let go yet.

“Now, you too Y/N”, he broke down as he cried out. “I still want you, I need you Y/N”, his voice cracked but he continued to speak between his sobs, “I not ready to let go Y/N… Y/N”. He cried and cried that time. He never forgot you.

“I’m the most cursed being”, he said out loud. “My parents and my sister whom I really loved, my adopted father, whom I eventually really loved and admired died”, Law’s hands were shaking as he tried to let your hand go.

Like/Vote, Reblog/Share and comment your feelings. I apologise for this.

Thank you for reading.

I don’t know if this is made anyone else cried or I was the only one. I was really sad when I got this plot. I was trying to write this for a long time, and this event gave me the opportunity to write for this story.

Follow for more content.

[neuxue]

Hi, neuxue......If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite “villains” (or antagonists) in MXTX works? Whether it’s a final boss like Jun Wu or more of a side character like Xue Yang. (Whether you want to do a ranking or just write out in no particular order)...Sorry if you've answered this question before....

If I don't mind??? If I don't mind? Please, my friend, you give me an opportunity to talk about favourite villains and I am yours for as long as you'll listen.

Not going to attempt to order them so we'll just go by story:

CQL

Xue Yang - characters who don't realise what they want, or that they've found a way to have it, until the moment when they destroy it!! Who destroy it because on some level they don't truly believe they can have it at all, and because it's easier to lose something when you can convince yourself you were always going to, and that it was your own choice. The whole time-bomb of Yi City just wrecks me.

I'm also generally here for his brand of competence and mercuriality - the knife-edged playfulness that doesn't quite mask a deeper darkness, the tendency to dance just a little too close to the edge with the particular carefree abandon of one who cannot imagine living beyond youth.

Finally... oh man do I even want to try to articulate this? So, he has several traits that often get used as a shorthand for not just ‘evil’ but ‘inherently evil’. Which... frustrates me. But with Xue Yang... yes, he's cast as a villain and yes he loses everything and yes he dies alone and unmourned... but there's a sense of 'it didn't have to go this way'. If the cart driver had been kinder; if his capability had been put to some use other than ‘weapon’. Or that moment in Yi City where he seems to delight just as much in cheating at a silly game of choosing sticks as he does in tricking Xiao Xingchen into killing people. This idea that there could have been another path. (And also, via Yi City, that he is not... inherently unlovable). His story ends in tragedy, but it’s not framed, at least the way I (choose to) read it, as ‘your story can only end in tragedy, because of the way you are’. It gives the option to read it as ‘you are not inherently monstrous’.

(Which then almost feeds back into the tragedy of the first point, because it’s only there in a kind of meta sense: Xue Yang himself? only ever receives the you are a weapon, you are a monster, that is all you can be side of it. Oh man okay I’ll stop here before I get pulled into a whole essay on this because suddenly I want to).

Jin Guangyao - I love a schemer! I love a pragmatist! I love ruthless competence beneath an inscrutable smile! I love characters who will tolerate nothing less than absolute perfection in themselves because they have learned the hard way that it’s the only possible way to survive. Characters who are not exempt from their own ruthlessness, their own cost-benefit analysis. Characters who have learned from their world that happiness must be sacrificed at the altar of survival, and who will do so with heartbreak but without hesitation when necessary. The only way is forward; to look back is to fail, but the irony is they can still never outrun their pasts.

Also he’s another one where there’s such a sense of it didn’t have to end this way. So many points at which things could have been different, so many alternate versions in which his capability could have been channelled towards a different goal, if the goal carved into his bones didn’t have to be survive, in a world that will try to make that impossible. 

I love villains and antagonists of all stripes and moralities, but in this instance what I love is a character who doesn’t want to be a villain, doesn’t want their hands stained with blood, doesn’t want to hurt those they love... but they do not see a choice. 

Wen Zhuliu - he’s highly competent and wears fingerless gloves; what more do you want from me?

Honestly though, he fascinates me. In part it’s the fact that we just don’t get much interiority to him, and only one exchange of dialogue that really suggests his motives, but we also get these little moments, that collectively build this sense of a kind of... lawful neutral, I suppose? Not even villain-by-necessity so much as villain-by-...debt? loyalty? But he also so clearly has such a strong sense of honour, and I just love trying to reconcile all of those pieces into a cohesive whole. 

The other thing that really gets me about him is his extraordinary power and how it’s regarded - especially when juxtaposed with Wei Wuxian’s. In both cases you have a single individual who holds a terrifying and mostly unique power that threatens or pushes the boundaries of their whole society and world. Wei Wuxian commands ghosts without a sword; Wen Zhuliu can extinguish someone’s power with his hands. But, crucially, the difference between them seems to be... that Wei Wuxian is a wildcard; Wen Zhuliu is leashed. And so I have to wonder once again at the strength of that leash, and at what would happen if Wen Zhuliu, like Wei Wuxian, decided to rebel. And in that whole question lives in this really interesting space of... what is it people truly fear? The power? The wielder? That person’s ability to choose? The uncertainty of what they will choose? The possibility of them realising they can?

***

TGCF

He Xuan - I mean the theme here obviously is competence, and He Xuan has a killer aesthetic to go with it, but mostly it’s just... the way his whole character is an exploration of revenge, and the line between vengeance and justice, and the question inherent in the irony of... throwing away the very thing you wanted vengeance for, in order to exact that vengeance.

(And also the whole cycle-of-revenge in doing unto another what was once done unto you, in the process of exacting that vengeance).

I’m just. Unbelievably here for a good betrayal story, and this one has it all! The intimacy! The self-betrayal! The emptiness and hunger!

And while with Xue Yang I love that moment of realising what he wants, or what he’s losing, only in the moment when he destroys it... with He Xuan what I love is that he goes into this, in so many ways, knowing what he’s doing. This is not spontaneity; this is the ultimate premeditation. He knows what he has, in his guise as a heavenly official. He knows, intimately, the person he is betraying. He has given great thought to the how of that betrayal. 

(Is it worth it, in the end?)

(After all, he’s still here)

Bai Wuxiang - one of the dynamics that will wreck me pretty much every time is what I like to call ‘intimate enemies’. Enemies-to-lovers can fit under that umbrella, but it’s a broader umbrella than just that. The idea of characters who (either one-sided or reciprocally) know each other so deeply, and can wield that knowledge to wound. The awful gentleness and precision of holding a knife to the core of someone’s identity. 

That, plus the identity fuckery in general. The way Bai Wuxiang frames himself as Xie Lian’s mirror, and the way he then reflects and warps and tugs at those pieces of Xie Lian’s self and name and will, trying to shape them in his image, but so gently. The way he talks to Xie Lian! The way he strokes his hair as he stabs him! It’s just so much, okay!

So yeah, a lot of it is that I’m just very into the highkey fucked-up dynamic he has with Xie Lian. But also Bai Wuxiang’s own story hits me in a kind of... if you’ll forgive a Wheel of Time reference: betrayer-of-hope betrayed-by-hope kind of way. That he tried so hard once, only for it to fall to ruin in his hands, and now he watches another try (and fail!) as he once did. And the way he seems to, in trying to mould Xie Lian’s present to his own past, be searching for a kind of... vindication? A confirmation of that inevitability? That of course he failed, that he could never have succeeded, because this is the nature of humanity, and it is not worth saving, and so his attempts weren’t failure. 

But the thing with that is: it’s a lose-lose situation. If he succeeds and Xie Lian fails, yes, it gives him that sense of ‘there was never another way, and no point trying to find one’ but is that really... winning? Is finding vindication in despair truly a success? And yet if he fails and Xie Lian succeeds, then does that not also feel like a sword to the heart: that it wasn’t inevitable, and that means he has to come to terms with his own failure and the heartbreak it wrought?

[sxfik]

push and pull (II)

part I | part II

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: It's been a week since their incident in the courtroom, a week since her best friend, and crush, had kissed her. Despite her better instincts, Sol decides that it's best to test his feelings for her. After all, he's bound to get jealous right?

or: Sol riles him up and now she has to face the consequences.

request by anon: OP you are writing a sequel of push and pull? Right? Right? 🥺 As joon whipped pointed out, this isn't over. And as a prompt/ask for part 2 or a new drabble– like can yeseul find the hickey joonhwi definitely left from the neck kisses? Okayyy byeeee

PS peace is not known to man is alsooo amaze! All your fics are amaze!

a/n: AAA yes i was always planning to do a sequel to push and pull but anon you really gave me the BEST idea! thank you so much for sending something in <3 this honestly kinda got out of hand, i was not expecting it to be this spicy (don't worry, no smut yet lmao) but i really hope you guys like this!!

It's been a week since Kang Sol decided to practice her argument as the defense counsel. A week had passed since her best friend, and crush, Han Joon Hwi, had kissed her in the sacred court of law, and for a week everything was startlingly normal. It was like everything that went on between the two happened in another dimension, when he was just as in love with her as she was for him.

After leaving her confused and dazed outside the courtroom, they had gone back to normal life, into their regular routine. They would study together in the library, work on their case for the upcoming mock trial, and work at the legal clinic. The two of them shared lunches and all their classes together, and for a moment, she almost forgot that she kissed Han Joon Hwi. But what could a girl do, swamped with cases and professors who thought it'd be best to swamp them with assignments.

So since he didn't mention anything about that day, neither did she. For the most part, she was so distracted by her classes and the anxiety that followed with being a student at Hanguk Law School that she was able to act regularly around him. But it didn't erase the memory of how he had looked at her, from across that courtroom, eyes dark and heavy. It didn't erase how warm his hands were on her, how his hands tangled in her hair as he pulled her in, how soft his lips felt against hers as he pulled her into a bruising kiss. It didn't erase how right it felt, having him press against her and it certainly didn't erase how much her feelings had grown for him.

There were moments, when their hands brushed against each other while reaching for the same book, or the way his shoulder would press against hers as they sat in the hideout, where she was sure that she would never get over him. Or the smiles he would send her, only her, across the classroom that would make a certain satisfaction spread through her like wildfire. It was like her mind and body lit up each time he looked at her with so much as an expression of happiness.

But Joon Hwi? He was completely fine. He was still right by her side, smiling and teasing, spending time with her as if they hadn't broken the cardinal rule of friendship. It bothered her, how he could act so normal around her, like nothing ever happened between the two. The anger rose as the days passed by, at how he could kiss her like that, and then pretend like it was nothing.

Kang Sol was always one for action, never one to sit back and let things happen to her. Even with the chance that she could make the situation so much worse, she plotted with Ye-seul. Her best friend had known of course, way before Sol could even understand why or what she felt for the boy that had kept her company through her lowest moments. In fact, she was the one who suggested the brilliant plan of testing his feelings, trying to see for herself if she was just hallucinating or if Joon hwi actually did feel something for her.

Her solution came in the form of a boy,  Lee Min-seok. Min-seok was always a close friend of hers, one of the few students that didn’t shame her for her low scores. He knew about her crush on Han Joon Hwi, figuring it out after they got drunk together. Not that it was all that hard, considering Sol had basically wailed, asking why Joon hwi didn’t see her the way she saw him. Luckily for her, he also had someone he wanted to make jealous, a girl named Seo Ae Ri, who was in their constitutional codes lecture.

Ye-Seul, Min-Seok and her had put their heads together, planning to work together on their project for Professor Kim's class rather than working with Joon Hwi like Sol usually did. It was simple really: Sol would act nice with him, just like she did with Joon hwi and see if he would react. In case they needed extra measures, Ye-Seul would tease her, really testing him once and for all.

“You keep looking at him,” Min-Seok said to her, snapping her out of her thoughts and back to the project at hand.

“Hm?” She turned to look back to the boy sitting across from her at the tables in the main hall. She shot him an apologetic look. "Sorry, I was just-"

"I know," he smiled, before tilting his head towards a girl sitting a couple tables away from them, "I'm getting distracted too."

"This is a bad idea, isn't it?"

"Probably, but we're both desperate losers, aren't we?" he grinned, and Sol laughed, the statement way too accurate to describe the both of them.

Being friendly with Min-Seok was easy but flirting with him was much harder than she thought. Sol had worn her hair down today, in an attempt to look more like she’s on a date rather than working on a project with a friend. She dressed up slightly, upgrading from her Hanguk university sweatshirt to a regular beige sweater. Still, it was impossible for her to keep her eyes on the boy in front of her when the real guy she liked was sitting right behind him.

Min-seok would lightly touch her hand, grazing past her and she would laugh at his jokes as if they were the funniest thing she’d heard all day. She tried her best to keep her eyes off of the Joon hwi and her focus on Min-seok, both of them trying their best to appear as though they had something more than friendship. Both of them joked and worked, trying to let their gazes linger on each other rather than their crushes sitting a couple feet away from both of them. She was still laughing at his joke when she looked up and noticed the empty seat where Joon hwi once sat.

Her laughter died down slowly as Sol watched him disappear behind the marble pillars of the school, without even sparing her a glance. I guess this was for nothing... Her hands squeezed into a fist, the pain and disappointment growing in her chest. She turned back to Min-seok and smiled, trying to not let her disappointment choke her.

It was evening by the time she left the main hall, after grabbing something to eat with Ye-Seul and Bok-gi at the cafe. Even with the delicious food, her mind was still on Joon Hwi, the figure walking away from her that afternoon permanently pressed into her memory. Even though it was just a memory, it weighed down on her shoulders as if she was carrying something physically on her back.

She sighed, making her way back to the dorms, stepping out of the main hall when she felt a tug on her elbow. Before she could process what was happening, she was whisked away to the corridor between the stairwell and the main hall.

“Wha-” she attempted yelled out before a hand came to cover her mouth.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s just me,” Joon hwi was wide eyed, as he took his hand off her mouth after she saw it was him, letting her calm down. Her heart thundered in her chest, breathing fast from the shock.

“Yah!” she hit his chest lightly, “Why would you shock me like that? I almost had a heart attack.” She tried to slow her breathing down, closing her eyes to avoid his gaze on her. Silence stretched between them and slowly, she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. His head was tilted slightly, almost like he was trying to piece her together like a puzzle.

“Who was your partner for Professor Kim’s project?” he asked, his face still deep in thought.

“Oh, just Min-Seok,” she answered, trying to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible.

“Just Min-Seok?” he questioned, narrowing his eyes on her. She squirmed slightly, her mind racing to come up with an answer that’s not you kissed me and then didn’t talk about it so I needed to test if you liked me. He took a step closer to her as she stepped back, her back hitting the wall of the corridor. His eyes were the same shade they had been in the courtroom, impossibly dark and staring into hers. It was intoxicating and she found herself unable to look away or do anything except stare back.

"You just like watching me in misery, don't you sunbae?" His voice was taunting, much deeper than usual. The air was almost suffocating with tension, with his proximity. She swallowed as she met his eyes, watching as the passion and fire in his eyes made her body overheat. “Taunting me, making me watch that guy touch you and flirt with you like he knew you,” His head dipped in then, tilting slightly as his gaze dropped to her lips.

“Like he knows how you liked to be touched,” he said, teasing as he kept the distance, his hands cupping her jaw, tracing her skin lightly in a way that made her shiver. It sent her body into overdrive, every inch of her hyper aware of Joon Hwi, his intoxicating smell enveloping her senses. “Like he knows how you like to be kissed,” he whispered, and his lips were against hers, soft yet unyielding, before she could even register it. His kiss was like fire, threatening to burn her up, but she didn’t mind. Sol would burn and burn for him, if it meant a few more moments with his lips on her.

Her hands found his shirt, tugging him closer to her as he shifted his head, pulling her in deeper. His tongue brushed against hers, driving her insane with the need for more. His kisses were addicting, pulling her in for more and more. Her hands were then in his hair, pulling him in closer  against her as she kissed him with fevor, her tongue brushing against his lower lip enough to make him groan into her mouth. His body only pressed into her more, his warmth bleeding into hers. His hair was silky and soft against her fingertips, and the need and want for more, more, more, driving her.

He pulled away shortly, panting as he caught his breath. His lips were bright red from her kisses, his eyes darkened with lust and want for her. She was still pinned against the wall as he brought his fingers close to her throat, the pads of his fingers grazing the spot he once left bruising kisses on. She drew in a sharp breath, the delicate touch of his hands enough to clear her mind.

“Ah, Sol-ah, such a pity. The hickies I left have faded away,” Joon hwi smirked slightly, his voice gravelly from the kiss. God, he’s insufferable. “We can’t have that happening, can we?” he raised an eyebrow, then dipped his head closer to her throat. She tipped her head back, wanting, needing, but he paused, his warm breath against her neck, like he was waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” Sol gave in, her voice breathier than she’d care to admit, “Yes please.” He obliged, finally dipping his head fully to leave open-mouthed kisses along her throat. The feeling was torturous and delicious, his hand curving around her neck to adjust it as he pleased. His other hand found the edge of her shirt, his body pushed against her in a way that was designed to haunt her.

“Joonhwi-ah,” she moaned, her voice embarrassingly needy as his fingers grazed her waist, and then his warm hand pressed against her bare skin. His thumb grazed the edge of her bra as it rubbed soothing circles into her skin as he continued placing feverish, bruising kisses against the delicate skin of her neck.  Her mind was completely blank, with only his name and pleads for more leaving her lips. It was too much and too little at the same time, the sensations clouding her mind but her body only craving more.

Slowly, he pulled away, his pupils still blown out from what they just did as he panted, trying to catch his breath. Sol was left dazed, still blinking at what had transpired between them. The air was still thick as they looked at each other, the silence enveloping the two. Sol looked at the man in front of her, but her brain was still catching up to the fact that Joon Hwi kissed me. His hair was a mess, and his lips were still red and swollen from their kisses. She was the first to crack a smile, unable to conceal her happiness at the fact that her plan worked.

“I should have done that earlier if I knew you’d kiss me like that,” she joked with him, the warmth and joy leaking out of every seam of her body. Joon Hwi narrowed his eyes at her, finally catching on to what she had pulled.

“You really riled me up on purpose?” His expression was slightly incredulous, but still adoring. His voice was still gravelly and deeper than usual, yet he was still the Joon hwi who she grew to love.

“You left me no choice! You kissed me in the courtroom and then you never addressed it,” her voice raised slightly, and he laughed in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the familiar way.

“I know, I’m sorry Sol-ah,” he looked down at the ground before looking up at her, sheepishly, “I wanted to give you time. I- i know that the last kiss came out of nowhere so I didn't want to rush you or push you too hard. I was going to talk to you about it today, and then well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grinned at him. They stayed like that, just for a few moments, grinning as they looked at each other. He pulled back slightly, releasing her from the wall.

“Come on, Sol-ah, I’ll walk you back to your room,” Joon hwi grinned, her hand going out to hold hers as they made their way to her dorm room and to start a new chapter together.

bonus

The next morning arrived surprisingly fast, and Sol was happier than she had ever been. After the Joon Hwi had dropped her off at her room, leaving her with another kiss that would live in her dreams forever she had crashed, blissfully sleeping despite the eventful day she had.

Sol shuffled into the small kitchen area, stretching out her arms in a yawn. She was still clad in her hanguk university sweatshirt, her hair in her signature messy bun as she walked past Ye-Seul and Joon hwi, both sitting at the table looking at their phones and having some breakfast. She greeted both of them, her voice cracking slightly from disuse as she made herself coffee, needing the bitter taste to jumpstart her system before class.

She grinned at both of them before taking a seat next to Joon hwi, the three of them blissfully enjoying their mornings. Everything went by as normal, Joon hwi looking cuter than ever, Ye-Seul still soft and beautiful as ever. Though, as she drank her coffee, she noticed her best friend squint at her slightly, the younger girl’s head tilted inquisitively. But Sol was still on the high from yesterday and seeing Joon hwi in the morning only fueled it more so she didn’t pay the look much heed.

Almost 15 minutes passed before Ye-Seul stood up, making the move to clear her plate and wash her mug. She turned and cleared her throat, looking pointedly at Sol. “Unnie, you might want to use some concealer before you go to class today," she quipped and suddenly, Joon hwi sputtered, choking on the coffee. Sol patted his back soothingly, before she turned around to Ye-Seul in confusion, but the younger girl was gone, disappearing before she could ask what she meant. Joon hwi was still laughing, while Sol was left in utter confusion.

Sol pulled out her phone, switching to her camera to look at what exactly she needed to cover. Did she have a pimple? Did she break out?  But she gasped as she looked at herself in the camera, her eyes wide. Her neck, once pale and clear of any marks, were covered in dark bruises. Hickeys. They spotted all over her throat, the curve of her neck, everywhere.

“Yah, Han Joon hwi!” she turned to him, his laugh only getting louder as she berated him, “I’m going to have to wear a whole bottle of concealer to cover this up!” He grins at her in response, mischief and a certain look of pride tainting his expression and Sol doesn't know whether to kiss him or hit him over the head. But his laughter infected her, and despite all her better instincts to stay angry, she laughed along with him, knowing that she could never stay angry too long at the boy she finally had in her arms.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Wano (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

okay so the wano flashback is possibly my favorite in the whole series for a whole bunch of different reasons, and oden as a character is a big part of why. honestly, i think he’s great. he’s wildly entertaining and ridiculously likable, just like a folk hero should be.

i care about oden and the akazaya nine a lot. they have one of my favorite found family dynamics in the whole series, up there with the strawhats themselves- a bunch of thugs and castoffs who wound up gathering around this one wildly charismatic moron and deciding to be stronger and better for him. 

i think they really feel like a family, in these little moments we get of them just interacting and messing around, and it only makes later events- oden’s death, the twenty-year separation, kanjurou’s betrayal- hurt all the worse.

on god it is the funniest thing on earth to me that this is how oden and izou wound up on whitebeard’s ship. 

the roger pirates!! i really really like the roger pirates!! i love that there’s this entire predecessor crew who are both absolutely fucking fascinating from a lore perspective and who are just all individually really good characters with really fun relationships. the dynamics we get to see just in this brief part of the flashback are absolutely delightful. i think the fact that i would read a whole series just about the roger pirates is a testament to oda’s character writing. 

there’s a specific sort of tragedy to the roger pirates, and i think it really hits home in their last few pages in this flashback. by all appearances, they were a crew just as close-knit as the strawhats are. they cared about each other a lot- that ship was their home.

and then their captain died, and they just- fell apart. 

awhile back, in my sabaody post, i talked about how we get to know roger first as a story and then as a character by getting to meet characters who knew him personally. to the rest of the world, roger is a story, a name to curse or a height to aspire to. but for shanks and rayleigh and crocus and buggy and all the rest of the roger pirates, he was their captain. 

the whole wano flashback, possibly more than any of the others in the series, really feels to me like a story being told, a folk tale being passed down, which makes sense, since it’s canonically framed as oden’s diary entries. and i think that framing device just adds so much to the atmosphere of this entire section of story, the feeling of myth and legend to it. 

i honestly really like how oden’s death is handled. i have trouble articulating it, but it’s so much, so over the top, so heavily set up and foreshadowed- a legendary death for a legendary man, if that makes sense.

toki’s prophecy is one of my favorite motifs in this whole arc. wano is all about a country that’s been trapped and dying for years and years, holding out desperate hope for salvation. toki is the one who gave them that hope. she doesn’t try to tell them that everything will be okay, she says it will be dark and the darkness will be long, but the dawn will come, and even though she gave her life to do that, she did it smiling. 

without toki, the wano arc never would have happened, because there would be no future to fight for. 

this panel is the header on my favorite op discord server and sometimes i just scroll up and stare at it. it’s so good. 

this entire sequence, starting from luffy law and kidd’s entrance, is probably my favorite in wano arc. it’s the turning of the sides, the daybreak after the darkest hour- these three show up, and then jinbe, and denjirou reveals his true colors and it’s revealed all the rest of the samurai left before orochi blew the bridges, and it turns out they haven’t lost a single step to kanjurou’s treachery. it just feels so good to read, after the prior hopelessness of the akazaya and the tragedy of the flashback.

i really like how the akazaya nine are absolutely ready to roast each other at any and all times. that’s how you know they’re best friends. 

i think i mentioned it back in fishman island, but one of my favorite things is the strawhats just being absolutely cheerfully, chaotically destructive. every time we get to see them wreck havoc while nonchalantly bickering with each other it puts a huge smile on my face.

i think ulti and page one are very very funny and i like their dynamic a lot, it’s a laugh riot. i also like that oda lets luffy seriously fight a woman here!! i’m serious, we don’t see enough no-holds-barred fights between men and women (conventionally attractive women, specifically) in this series, so i’m pleasantly surprised when it does happen. 

i do appreciate wano’s ability to continuously raise the “holy shit!” quotient without it ever really feeling like a twist just for the sake of the audience. like, i don’t know that anybody saw kaidou killing orochi coming, but at the same time, it feels like it does make sense, given what we know about kaidou, for him to do this.

my heart goes out to momo, honestly. he’s only eight, and in that time he’s lost his home and family and his whole world when he was thrown twenty years into the future, and he has the weight of his whole country resting on his shoulders. he’s borne up admirably under that stress, starting from zou and building up to this point.

i LOVE kin’emon’s speech to kaidou about luffy SO much. kin’emon’s come a long way from being a mostly comedy relief character in punk hazard to here, where he’s shouting down an emperor. i really like this progression- kin’emon doesn’t change, exactly, but the side of his character that is revealed in wano is very likable and admirable. it goes back to something i’ve mentioned before, about how one piece’s characters are very rarely one-dimensional.

kaidou’s dragon form is extremely cool, and so are most of the panels where it appears- it’s extremely striking, especially in panels like this, where he’s silhouetted against the moon.

i love... the ripple effects of luffy just being himself that spread throughout the world of one piece, and i think this is one of the best examples. luffy befriended coby all the way back in chapter two, mostly by accident, and now, nine hundred and some chapters later, that’s what leads to drake joining the strawhats’ side. because drake is friends with coby who says luffy is trustworthy, so when drake is stuck with nobody else to turn to, he turns to luffy. 

moments like this really reinforce just how much the world and story of one piece is built on relationships between people, and i really like that. i like that instead of necessarily being built around abstract ideals or morals, characters’ actions are, more often than not, motivated by either specific personal goals or by their relationships with other characters. it feels much more true to life.

i like the loss of kiku’s arm, because it showcases exactly how serious the fight is on both sides. it both shows that kaidou is fighting to maim and kill and do whatever it takes to win, and that the akazaya are fully prepared to take whatever he throws at them. kiku gets back up smiling after losing her arm. neither side in this fight is even close to backing down, now or ever. 

i genuinely can’t believe how long it took me to talk about yamato, so let me just say: i love him so much. part of this, i’m sure, is my personal bias towards any and all kickass queer characters, but part of it is just- he’s so cool. he’s ten feet tall and carries a club about as big as he is and tanks explosions like they’re nothing while also bickering with luffy and falling out of ceilings and generally being like... stupidly lovable. 

i just like yamato a lot. 

a thousand chapters in, and every strawhat but robin has had a moment where they declare luffy is going to be the king of the pirates, but honestly, i think nami’s might be my favorite yet. nami has always been a person who acts at a distance, not one inclined to direct confrontation and putting herself in danger-

and yet, when it comes down to it, when faced with a choice between death and disavowing her captain’s dream, even when assured by usopp that she would be fully justified in lying for her life, nami chooses luffy. even in the most dire of circumstances, all of the strawhats know luffy is going to be the king of the pirates, and none of them would ever deny it.

i kind of alluded to this back in my dressrosa post, but i really like the development of law’s new dream being discovering the meaning of the will of d. it just feels like a very good and natural progression for his character, given he’s the only holder of the will of d who we’ve been shown is consciously aware of it and what it might mean. and in general, i like seeing him having something else to work towards after doflamingo’s defeat.

i’ll end this by just saying i am so desperately curious to know what is in that book, and what yamato knows about the will of d, about the dawn of the world, about laugh tale. 

guess we’ll find out, huh?

thanks for reading through to the end!! i had a lot of fun putting these posts together, and writing them up was a really cool way to be able to compile my thoughts headed into chapter 1000 and beyond. i can’t wait to see where oda takes us next. 

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 01

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: some profanity, a side character who is a dick about Reid, set in season 06, self beta’d

Word Count: 2437

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

--

Chapter 01

--

March 2010

--

Dr. Spencer Reid

(Current Tenure: California Institute of Technology): Fred Kavli Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics; Director, Walter Burke Institute for Theoretical Physics, Department Head of Mathematics, Physics, and Astronomy at Caltech.

- (Degrees, in order) Ph.D. Mathematics, Caltech, 1995; Ph.D. Chemistry, Caltech, 1997; M.A. Nuclear Science, MIT, 1999; Ph.D. Engineering, MIT, 2000; M.A. Sociology, Columbia University, 2001; M.A. Philosophy, Georgetown, 2001; Ph.D. Psychology, Georgetown, 2002; M.A. Applied Analytics, Columbia University, 2003; M.A. Socio Economic Statistics, MIT, 2004; M.A. Geology, Caltech, 2006; Ph.D. Geography, Caltech, 2006; M.A. Economics, Caltech, 2008; M.A. Brain and Cognitive Sciences, Caltech, 2009

- (Teaching positions, in order) Professor of Mathematics, Caltech, 1995-1997, Professor of Mathematics and Statistical Analysis, MIT, 1998-2005, Visiting Associate, Georgetown, 1999-2002; Professor of Chemical Engineering, MIT, 2002-05; Kavli Professor, Mathematics, Caltech, 2005-; Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, 2006-; Deputy Chair, 2005-; Director, 2008-.

“Jesus.”

The dossier is just an information sheet; no photo ID, no news articles beyond text component pieces, but it is a thick stack of correspondence and case consultations that S.S.A Aaron Hotchner holds in his hands.

“Five Ph.D.’s and eight separate M.A.’s in fourteen years? What was he doing before that?”

“Who knows? You don’t earn a Ph.D. overnight, even if his accommodation sheet makes ‘em look like they pop up like mushrooms,” Mark Anderson says, audibly tired through the phone speaker on his desk. He was one of the Unit Chief's from the teams at the FBI L.A. field office, who’s phone number was given to him by an old friend, Sam Cooper -- another BAU team leader. Hotch had hit dead end after dead end on this case, and sitting at his desk in Quantico, Virginia, he looks down at the recommended consultant’s extensive list of degrees and teaching positions with a building headache behind his dark eyes. He wasn’t a fan of Anderson, or his briskness, but at this point he’d take anything he could get. “I’m pretty sure that man has never lived outside an academic field. He’s a handful, runs my agents up the damn wall, but he knows his stuff.”

“I hope so. I’ve been on the phone the past three days trying to find someone with a background in Obscure Cognitive Linguistics,” Hotch reads from a separate file, filled with violent images and depraved acts described in morbid detail. “Our unsub sites a very particular thesis about a Study of Language from a Cognitive and Developmental Law, and I keep getting sent to experts in adjacent fields. I don’t see anything in this Dr. Reid’s background about language.”

“Oh, trust me, Hotch -- you’ll get more than you bargained for. This is your guy. He’s basically an expert on everything, and if he doesn’t know anything about languages I’ll eat my tie. He never shuts up.”

Frowning at the speaker phone, Hotch keeps his comments to himself. He’s sure that Anderson probably doesn’t appreciate having an old professor puttering around the field office, but that didn’t mean he had to insult the man. Especially when he was there as a consultant. 

“Okay, fine. Thank you. I’ll give him a call now-”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that. Just send him an email. Trust me.” Anderson all but groans like a petulant child. Graining on Hotch’s nerves excruciatingly.

“I’m sure he’s busy enough with his students, he doesn’t need to be fielding emails from the FBI,” Hotch hedged, still frowning. 

“Not too busy to write you a dissertation in reply, I’m sure, but you’ll at least get the answers you need. You could be on the phone with him a half hour before you get to what you called about. Hopefully it won’t take you too long to sift through.” 

Alright, now he is done listening to the other agent.

“Right. Thanks, Mark.”

“Anyti-” Hotch hangs up on him before the man could make any other remarks. His patience is non-existent after the past week and this extremely brutal case that only seems to compound exponentially in it’s viciousness with each passing day. If Anderson felt like being an asshole to some old man with nothing better to do than rack up Ph.D.’s, he could do it on his own time. Hotch needed help, and this man seemed to be the only person around who might be able to finally do so.

Dr. Reid’s office number is in front of him, as well as about three different lab location phone numbers, and one email address connected to the school faculty. He considers for a moment just ignoring Anderson’s advice and calling the old professor, but he has a meeting with his Department Chief, Strauss, in twenty minutes and the team would be arriving from canvasing the dumpsites soon. 

So with a suffering sigh, Hotch pulls up a new email (for what feels like the millionth time for this case) and composes a standard correspondence introduction. Who he is, credentials, case numbers and specifics as far as clearance rates for civilians go, and then finally the questions he needs answered. There is something about this particular thesis that has to be very tongue in cheek to the unsub, saying something that isn’t really there, and this could just be another dead end -- but if it led to them saving a victim from becoming another dead body, he is willing to give it one last try. 

Thank you for your time,  S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner Unit Chief, Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI Quantico, VA. 

Then he hits send, and leaves the response up to the universe.

-

The team came up with nothing fruitful. Strauss proceeded to ream Hotch six ways from Sunday for wasting valuable bureau resources and coming up with zero results. His day was spinning down the drain in a hellish cyclone when he sits down behind his desk in his office an hour after leaving it. Case files still piled to one side, grotesque photos stacked within them, and Aaron Hotchner wants nothing more than for them to disappear. For the case to be solved and to be able to go home to his son and his quiet house. But there was no break in sight, no new information, nothing.

Except a new email in his inbox.

Agent Hotchner, 

I know that thesis paper well. I can help you.

All air seems to have been sucked from the room as Hotch reads the words a couple of times, not quite comprehending after the morning he has had that someone wasn’t giving him more bad news. That this Dr. Reid said he could help him. 

 A single click of the email opens up the correspondence reply, and the agent is met with a giant wall of text. Scrolling down for pages, and a quick skim of the material shows such a complex, comprehensive amount of information that there is no way it’s just copy and pasted from any one source. Or even several. It’s a long email spanning a vast number of pages, covering every topic he had asked about (and then some).

The thesis paper, the tongue-in-cheek citation from the unsub, how this killer is acting like he’s being clever when it’s really ‘very obvious what he’s doing, as long as you know the paper’ and detailed links and quotations and references to locations and side tangents on items mentioned that could be evidence to look for or weapons of choice, and so much else Hotch’s head feels like it’s spinning. Like reading the cliffnotes of a complex spy novel, with all the spoilers in one place. 

It takes him half an hour to read through everything Dr. Reid sent, meaning the professor had to have been typing a million words a minute from the moment Hotch had emailed him to get everything replied so quickly, and Hotch was baffled to realize that an old man with a handful of Ph.D.’s and no FBI training just solved his case.

Not a figment of speech.

Dr. Reid just solved the case, without even holding the file in his hands.

Hotch is dialing a phone number on his speed dial without even looking away from the screen. 

“Garcia? Call the team into the briefing room, and phone SWAT to mobilize. We’re going down to the riverfront in thirty minutes.”

“--Wait, what are you talking about? Did you figure out the unsub’s code?”

Not me, Aaron thought to himself, standing up and printing Dr. Reid’s email after forwarding it to the entire team and their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia. He didn’t have time to explain it that many times, and the amount of information in that single email would be enough to send any of them tumbling heels over head. But it solved every aspect of their case. Hook, line, and sinker.

And the clock was ticking. 

“Now, Garcia.”

He rushes from the room with the stack of files in his hands and his laptop open to Dr. Reid’s email. Not even thinking to thank the man for his help as he heads across the bullpen with profound determination.

They have work to do.

-

They catch the unsub that very day. 

Quick, efficient, completely by surprise. They saved Amanda Sutton and another girl they hadn’t even known was missing. No one died. None of his team was hurt. The unsub hadn’t confessed, but Rossi and Morgan had played him like a fiddle in interrogation and now all of his team members were walking to the elevators leaving for a long weekend where they wouldn’t have to worry about serial killers or another dead soul on their conscience. Today was a win. As close to a win as they ever can get, in their line of work. 

And it isn’t until he’s back at his desk, the hours ticking into the night, that he opens up his email and there in his inbox is the very reply that started everything. Dr. Spencer Reid. CalTech Department Head. Professor of everything under the sun. Expert on anything, even the obscure. 

The reason Hotch will get to spend the weekend with his son, without the overbearing aftershocks of a case gone so horribly bad plaguing him. 

His hands are moving before he can stop them. Opening up the email, typing out a response to Dr. Reid thanking him for his help. Relaying what happened, detail by detail much in the same fashion he had completed the paperwork piled on his desk. Letting him know that his information really did end up helping them. All of it. Even the side tangents. 

I don’t know how I can ever thank you for the extensive consideration you gave this case, or how to explain how it solved it so seamlessly, but your time and effort does not go unnoticed by me. 

Okay, so maybe he fluffs it up a bit more than the dreadful bullet-point list descriptions required by the Deputy Chief and the Director and SWAT Team justification reports. Just so it doesn’t look so inadequate in comparison to the man’s thesis-paper-length email he sent to aide Hotch and his team. The passion he has for his work leaps off the page, but it was a lot -- and if the old man put that much dedication into a basic FBI correspondence email, then he was probably used to it being a thankless effort. 

Hotch sends the reply, and continues with his work. He always takes a bulk of the paperwork, so his team can go home and rest and recharge. He needs them at their best for each case, and if that means he spends a couple hours longer after when they finish a case, it is worth every minute. But this time, once he finishes, he gets to take the coveted time off as well. 

It’s as he’s finishing up, everything stacked neatly and ready to be dropped at records, in the mailroom, Strauss’s office, the director’s, and he’s about to log off his laptop that he sees a surprise -- Dr. Reid replied to him, again.

It’s much more brief this time.

Agent Hotchner,

I’m so glad I was able to help you. 

You are one of the only agents to reach out and tell me how the case went after my consultation, and I’m very grateful to know that my information actually helped your team catch the killer. I know I tend to spout facts at random, but I do have methods to my madness and it’s such a nice change to correspond with someone who understands that. 

My services are always at your disposal. Anytime. Whatever I can do to help.

Sincerely, Dr. Spencer Reid

Hotch types out a brief reply. Thanking him for his offer, for lending him his expertise, and letting him know in not so many words --

I’ll have to take you up on that. 

He’d be a fool not to. Someone with that much knowledge and the ability to connect it all in the way Dr. Reid had in the span of an hour? He could be a real asset to the BAU, as a permanent consultant, even through email correspondence. 

He sends the reply just as he stands to leave. Turning off his office light, and his chest feels lighter for the interaction. For giving the professor that sense of assurance that what he had to say did in fact do some real good. Hotch even finds himself smiling softly, sadly, that he has also found a little bit of solace in helping another lonely old man across the country find a sense of purpose that night. Who was working late, as well, despite it being the end of the week. Speaking to not much waiting for him back at home, in whatever shape ‘home’ takes for the man. But Hotch can relate to that, too. Jack is at Jessica’s until the morning, and there is nothing at his apartment to greet him but silence and bare walls and memories he’d rather not dote on. Maybe this Dr. Spencer Reid is in a similar boat, finding comfort in his work when he can. He certainly seems to, with the amount of time he’s poured into his doctorates and degrees. In the number of departments he runs and monitors. 

Hotch can’t help but feel a connection, a companionship between empty offices. Thousands of miles apart, but maybe -- possibly -- at least similar in that aspect.

Not so alone, even if only for a brief moment.

-

(tbc...)

-

Tagged list: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls

[shelby-love]

FRED WEASLEY

Battle of Hogwarts

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none (Voldemort’s lines (cursive) are from the movie)

Warning(s): mentions of death, angst

Word count: 1.9K

Author’s note: I’m weak guys I literally cried while writing this. UGH! Movie 8 is so freaking devastating how can it be someone’s favorite?? If it’s your fav than you’re a freaking soldier! Anyhow, enjoy this because we all know Freddie deserves it! God I wish he lived :’( In the movie I mean lmaooo 💀

Link to Voldy’s little whispering announcement is here! Recommend watching it so you get the feels.

The once peaceful night had turned into a rampage in a matter of seconds. Just 16 hours prior to the battle you were sleeping late with Fred at the Burrow, inhaling his familiar scent until it lulled you back to sleep eventually.

Now you stand filthy, with cuts and bruises all over your body, looking around as the school you had attended not too long ago became a battleground for all witches and wizards.

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, the sickly smiles the Death Eaters pranced around with suddenly being too scary to look at. The wind was no calmer than yourself - it blew harshly, pushing your hair violently to one side while you turned your head to look the other way. Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts and you were all alone to fight off the first wave.

Jets of green light flew past you in the heat of the moment, missing you by a tiny fraction of an inch. You ducked behind a fallen statue doing your best to ignore the never ending screams of curses. A giant plotted around the debris, walking in a semi-circle while trying to catch a few wizards onto his half-moon shaped weapon of choice.

No one had your back, only the stone statue you trusted enough to lean your back against.

The sight before you was truly terrifying. So many memorable places had turned upside down into something you didn't recognize. Didn't try to recognize. So many memories were squished into anguish. Pain.

Fear for your loved ones.

"Fred!" You screamed out in terror. Your boyfriend was not by your side, having split up from you when he went after his older brother Percy. You didn't see him anywhere since that moment on, but perhaps that was a good thing. Fred wasn't outside to see what the grounds has turned into. He wasn't there to hear the despairing screams that surrounded you. "Fred!"

Another burst of green had escaped from someone's wand, sneaking up to your body with force. The death curse awaited you - no one could deny it.

But something blocked it. A surge of light - pure bright light - blinded you for several seconds before it died down to a spark, leaving you squinting your eyes at the savior in gratitude.

"You really think I'd let my future sister-in-law die like that?" Said George, his voice unmistakably similar to Fred's. It wrapped around you like a cloak of protection, reassuring you that there was still hope.

That you weren't alone.

"You're alive!" Your voice, unlike George's, lost all its light as you staggered to your feet hastily.

"Course I am," said George teasingly though his dashing smile turned into a thin line of worry fairly quickly. He grasped your elbow and dragged straight inside until you met the corridors you roamed around your entire adolescent life. Without a choice but with full trust, you followed after George, watching as the robes on his shoulders held themselves on by mere threads, his whole body blackened by the smoke. Just like yours.

Panic flared within you. You could hear even more screams inside the school - the only place that was free of tall, monstrous giants with voices that shook the ground like bombs.

People, good and bad, screamed out both curses and jinxes while dueling. Your head snapped into different directions every second you were inside, readying your body to defend yourself.

George stopped suddenly, pushing you back behind him and blocking an unavoidable Avada Kedavra before turning back to you. He looked panicked, "Find Fred! He's on the seventh-floor corridor with Perce! Go!"

"I can't leave you, George!" You bellowed in between screaming a jinx at a dark hooded Death Eater.

"I don't think you have much of a choice in this matter, sis!" He said without a backward glance, hurling you into the opposite direction with a mere swipe of his wand. "Go!"

And so you listened, running off to find the man you loved while leaving his brother behind with a heavy heart.

The long-lost piece to your heart, although the piece that belonged to George since birth.

Fred.

You ran forwards through the halls you knew like your own home representing a mad-woman. Every so often, after cursing a different Death Eater through the window you would glance around and choke back a sob.

The halls, per se, weren't as devastating to see; it was the lack of greeting smiling faces that once stood proudly up on the walls that broke your heart. The people from the pictures had disappeared, no longer greeting you in passing like before.

Just then the sound of thunder penetrated through the land, like a storm greeting you on the doorstep. The room began to tremble, your head pulsing to the point you thought it would explode.

And then His voice echoed.

"You have fought valiantly... but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste."

You dug your hands into your hair like doing so would push Him out.

It didn't.

Although His whispers remained there, His influence did not.

Only at the sight of Fred backed up against the wall with Augustus Rookwood at his feet did Voldemort's voice drain down your ears into oblivion. He had his wand pointed to Fred whose own wand had been knocked out of his hold, disarming him.

Power surged through your being and without much thinking, a bright light of a jinx blasted out your wand, neatly hitting the Death Eater making him drop his wand and crumble to the ground like a pile of ash.

You drew in a suffocating gasp for air and dropped to your knees, a wave of wet tears threatening to spill over like a river. Augustus blew away with the wind, leaving only the two of you alone.

For now.

Instinctively, you cupped Fred's cheeks with your shaky hands and pressed your forehead against his. The whispering was getting too much. "Shh...you're okay..."

"I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity."

"Y/N?"

"N-no, don't speak Freddie," you murmured sadly, shakily brushing a strand of his hair while pinning his eyes into yours to distract him from the whispers. 

He did as you said, locking his eyes with yours and not looking away until it was over. "Fred I love you."

"Harry Potter, I speak now directly to you. On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me."

And just like that, the castle became unnervingly quiet. Every blast of light that sparked around was no more than a lingering smell in the air, unharmful to anyone - rendered completely useless. 

You didn't know for how long this eerie bit of peace and quiet would last, but you were going to use it up completely. 

"I-I..." Fred started, although no more words followed after that. He swallowed the rest of the thought heavily, instead letting you silently help him stagger to the Great Hall. 

You tried not to look at the blood, but how could you not? It was everywhere, littering the walls and walkway even though no physical contact had to be made in order to kill someone using magic. It just comes to show just how merciless the dark followers truly are. You bit down on your trembling lip, suppressing the dark thoughts that invaded your mind.

Fred had thought the same apparently as he looked just as broken and tired as you did when you stopped in the doorway of the Hall, not knowing what awaited for you beyond those doors. 

The room that used to be the liveliest place on earth shuddered with silence, only footsteps could be heard. Tears rounding up as a close second. 

People were bawling. Although quietly, as if the fallen were asleep.

The house tables, the tables of pronounced rivalry between the four houses were gone. What crowded the room were the people, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated but the dead lied in the middle of the hall. 

Your friends mourned their loved ones; professors sat quietly by the side, looking grim but with hope still glimmering in their eyes; kids who you had nothing to do with during your schooling suddenly felt like the closest of friends, their closed eyelids will never open again. It tore your heart.

The first of many sobs escaped. You paused ever so slightly, pushing Fred back too without even realizing it. Breathing became harder, your lungs became tighter. Life was too harsh at that moment.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Y/N hey," said Fred softly, cupping your chin with utmost of care. Almost as if he was scared a simple touch could break you. "It's okay. Look at me, love."

You shook your head, unable to do as he said, "Fred? Y/N?"

Both Fred and you glanced at George who was standing amidst the crowd, looking worse than he did before. But at least he had a smile.

"Go." You gave Fred a simple nod, and he didn't even waste a second. Both brothers ran for each other, winding their arms around each other's necks. You could hear their cries of agony and the falling tears, so you turned your head to hide your own set of tears. All you could do was release the emotions, you came to realize.

There was something about the twins, as if they felt what no one in the world could. Perhaps that's what made them so close, a joy to be around really. Like many, they fought, but then they simply synchronized at the right time and all became good again.

There was something about knowing that the love of your life's brother was okay that made the world a bit more bearable. George was a part of Fred no one could replace - you, Molly, Arthur, Ron, ... You didn't want to live to see the day Fred mourns over his brother too soon.

But Fate smiled down on you, reuniting the two soulmates as a gift to the world.

Ginny walked toward you so quietly you almost failed to notice her, but when you did your lips curled sadly; her face was swollen, and she looked to be in a great deal of pain, but she hugged you tightly despite it. Your arms mimicked her own, pulling her close until the comfort balanced out.

Soon, the rest of the Weasleys joined, showing just how grateful they were for each of their kids. Hermione and you closed in on them too, and they immediately pulled you into the group, showering you with love while your parents couldn’t.

Remus and Tonks looked peaceful, looking as if they were resting while laying down next to each other, their hands touching. You didn't have the heart to wake them, you decided. Instead, you kneeled down and thanked them. Promised them that their son would learn and grow up to be just like the two of them.

You yearned not to feel, but that was simply not possible. So, you turned to Fred, tears travelling down your cheeks, every thought fried and cluttered - his eyes dimmed sadly. Fred reached out and pulled you to him, hugging you securely, his strong arms becoming a shield of love no one could break. You felt his tears travel down your neck and that urged more of your own to fall down too.

When you finally parted, you looked deeply into his eyes, letting him wipe your tears away. "Please don't leave again." The words barely managed to break out as the sobs you started to withhold chocked your voice back. Fred's eyes softened, his chin rested on top of your head when he brought you back to him. His arms clenched you tighter this time, like a promise.

"I'll never leave you again. I promise."

MASTERLIST

Here is the link to my tag list masterpost! If you want to be added to one of my existing tag lists (or perhaps new ones) let me know! :)

✭ GENERAL TAGS (all WIPs):

@fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102  @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre @abimoon @sofiasamps @princxss-fia @thirstykpophoe

✭ HARRY POTTER: /

[chenziee]

Dine and Dash (chapter 1)

[Read on AO3 or under the cut]

Can you believe it's been 11 years since Ace was saved from Marineford? Yeah, me neither. Still feels like fucking yesterday. So happy they managed save him in the end :) #ForeverInDenial

I took the opportinity of the anniversary of chapter 574 being published to finally write the obligatory Everybody is alive and nothing hurts AU that we all deserve, especially a certain beautiful, precious fire boy <3 (And yes, I know the anniversary was yesterday, I fucked up but shhh)

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Relationships: ASL brothers, Law/Luffy

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 1894

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Nothing Hurts, Portgas D. Ace Lives, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, lawlu being cute, Protective Sabo (One Piece), Protective Portgas D. Ace, best big bros protective of their innocent baby bro, ASL Brothers, what else uhhh, i might add more as i go, Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante Lives

Summary: When the three brothers who had once terrorized the Grey Terminal as well as the Goa Capital come together, nothing good can come of it. Even though they're not children anymore. Or maybe especially since they're not children anymore.

Or; the obligatory Everybody Is Alive And Nothing Hurts AU

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When Ace jumped from his raft up onto the railing of Luffy’s ship, he honestly didn’t expect someone to be standing right where he landed. He couldn’t blame Nami for screaming like she did in favor of a normal greeting, and it was also no surprise when Luffy’s voice came only a second later, asking what was wrong in a voice full of alarm. What was surprising, however, was when Luffy’s head popped out from behind what looked like a large polar bear sleeping right on the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Seriously, Luffy and his tendency to pick up the weirdest things.

"Hey, Luffy," Ace greeted, waving at his brother.

A bright smile appeared on Luffy's face when he realized just who the intruder was, scrambling to his feet and immediately falling over, nearly landing face first onto the lawn. Ace just had to laugh at the sight, but his amusement soon died down. Instead, he had to frown at the pained groan and cursing in a voice that was decidedly not Luffy's, and neither did it seem to have come from the polar bear who was still snoozing away without care.

"Sorry, Torao," Luffy apologized with a sheepish smile directed at the person he had apparently tripped over.

Who the hell was ‘Torao?’ Who was the person Ace could only assume his baby brother was napping with? Seemed like an interrogation was in order. Later though, there were arrangements to be made first. After all, having back up on this couldn't hurt and he had the best back up just waiting for him on the next island.

Picking himself up and running over, Luffy nearly crashed into Nami in his hurry this time, but his navigator managed to side step him at the last second, probably expecting something like this to happen. Luffy only shot her a crooked smile and a half-hearted apology, prompting her to shake her head at him, crossing her arms over her chest in a scolding manner.“Honestly, how is your entire family like this? One of you is going to give me a heart attack one day.”

“Sorry,” Ace and Luffy apologized in unison, the both of them bowing to her for good measure. After all, they both knew all too well that Nami’s wrath was scarier than anything they had ever witnessed on the Grand Line so far.

Nami huffed, shooting one last unhappy glare at them before she turned around and said, “We should be arriving at the next island in a few hours, I’m going to check what we need and get things ready.”

Ace sighed in relief; it seemed like they had somehow managed to avoid the worst.

"Ace, what are you doing here?" Luffy asked as soon as Nami walked away.

Ace grinned, finally jumping off of the railing he had been perching on. “Can’t I just come visit my favourite baby bro?”

“Of course you can,” Luffy said, sticking his tongue out at him. “I just didn’t expect you. Weren’t you going to Wano to see Tama?”

“Yeah, but there was a change of plans. Sabo’s actually on the island you’re heading to so I took a detour,” Ace explained with a shrug.

The reaction was immediate. Just as Ace expected, Luffy perked up even more, his smile going impossibly wide and Ace could swear there were stars in his eyes. He was also basically vibrating in place and Ace had to chuckle at the sight. He understood Luffy’s excitement, neither of them got to see the revolutionary nearly as often as they would have liked for obvious reasons, but Luffy was just too cute when he got like this. How he even did the… bright all over thing was something beyond Ace’s understanding but he loved seeing it every single time regardless.

“Sabo’s there?! Why didn’t he tell me?” Luffy cried out, grabbing onto Ace’s arm in his eagerness.

Before Ace could reply, the other person who had been hidden behind the polar bear until then stood up, muttering seemingly to himself, but loud enough for both Ace and Luffy to hear, “Oh great, there’s going to be three of them.”

“Torao~,” Luffy whined, turning to look at the grumpy man with a pout. “Don’t say it as if it’s a bad thing,” he finished, bouncing away from Ace to stand in front of the other man instead.

Ace scowled at the sight of Luffy peeking up at ‘Torao,’ who only stared back impassively as if he wasn’t bothered in the least by Luffy’s puppy eyes. Ace didn’t think that was even possible. Not to mention they were standing way too close to each other for Ace’s tastes.

“It is a bad thing. There’s way too much energy just with you, Luffy-ya. I don’t need more of it around me,” Torao told him, finishing with a light flick to Luffy’s forehad. An action that nearly had Ace toss a fireball at him if only Luffy didn’t start giggling over it.

Suddenly, Luffy stepped even closer to the man, wrapping his arms around his waist and grinning up at him. “You love it,” he announced, sounding all too proud of himself.

“In very small doses,” Torao admitted before leaning down and kissing the top of Luffy’s head.  

Oh, Sabo was so hearing about this.

Ace cleared his throat loudly, raising his hand to make sure the fire crackling threateningly in his palm was the first thing Torao would see when he looked in his direction.

“Nice to see you again, too, Fire Fist-ya,” the man said flatly, one eyebrow raised.

Ace smiled at him, making sure it look as fake as he could make it. “Trafalgar Law. What do you think you’re doing to my little brother?”

“What does it look like?” Law shot back, showing a smirk that only managed to irk Ace further. If Luffy wasn’t standing right there, he would really have thrown that fireball at him.

“Ace?” Luffy asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion as he looked at the fire dancing angrily under Ace’s command.

Ace sighed at that, reluctantly putting the flames out. That asshole was seriously so lucky Luffy was there. He and Sabo would have to corner him later and threaten him when Luffy wasn’t looking. “Anyway, as I was saying—” Ace shook his head, trying to make himself focus on the matter at hand— “I don’t think Sabo knew you were this close to the island. He said he only had one afternoon free and absolutely needed to see me for some reason. So, Luffy. Want to come with us to get something to eat?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. As if Luffy would ever say no to that.  

“Let’s get meat!” Luffy exclaimed loudly, full of enthusiasm and throwing both arms in the air. He nearly punched Law in the face.

Sadly, it really was only nearly but Ace still took great pleasure in returning the smirk Law had given him earlier. He quickly turned back to Luffy, however, and replied, “Well, Sabo seemed like he had something in mind already so let’s just go and see.”

Luffy nodded at his words, a bright, happy smile that looked just the same as it did all those years ago at Mt. Colubo on his face, and Ace felt his previous smirk melt into a fond smile in return. There was warmth in his chest at the sight, the knowledge that his little brother was still the same even after everything that had happened over the years making him incredibly happy.

Without even realizing, Ace’s hand came to touch his own exposed chest, his fingers tracing the rough, large burn scar that Akainu had left there during the war four years ago. It was honestly a miracle he was even alive. He had fully accepted death back on the execution scaffold but then Luffy crashed in, just as loud, just as unexpected as always, bringing so much chaos with him that it changed the entire course of the whole ordeal. And then he accepted it once more when he threw himself in Akainu’s way to protect Luffy.

But now here they were, both of them miraculously alive—thanks to Jinbe, Marco, Vista, and, as much as it pained him to admit it given the very recent circumstances, mostly thanks to Trafalgar Law’s incredible timing and medical skill—and both bearing lava burn scars on their chests as a reminder of what could have happened; what was so incredibly close to happening. It was incredible how much the experience had changed them, yet somehow, how they were still the same as they used to be when playing pirates in their little tree house base.

And when Sabo had appeared in front of them again, with tears and apologies and so very alive, it felt almost inevitable.

Ace shook his head at his own thoughts. This was no time to get all sentimental. “Okay, Sabo’s waiting. Are you ready to go? Striker isn’t really a two person boat but it should be okay,” Ace said, gesturing towards his fire powered raft.

“Yes!” Luffy shouted like he had just won something. “Your boat always seems so fun to play with,” he sang, running over to look down at the slim, sleek raft that was gently swaying along the Sunny.

“Glad you’re so excited,” Ace chuckled.

He went to jump back down on Striker immediately, but Luffy stopped him when he spoke up next, “Oh wait. Do you think we could take the Mini Merry? Torao is meeting his dad on the island, too.”

Ace paused, looking at Luffy with a slight frown. What the hell was a ‘mini merry?’ But more importantly, did they really have to take Trafalgar with them?

Thankfully, Law had saved Ace from having to deal with either of those questions when he spoke up instead, “Thanks but I’ll stay here, Cora-san won’t be there until evening anyway. Plus, I’m not going to risk your brother drowning me on the way.” He shot Ace another one of those smirks when he finished and Ace almost wanted to burn it off of his face but…

“Fair point,” he admitted instead, surprised at the laughter that bubbled out of his chest. He shuddered in horror at the idea of this asshole growing on him.  

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” Luffy mumbled in annoyance, but perked back up a second later when he announced he was going to let the crew know he was going on ahead.

Ace and Law looked at each other, Ace trying to convey with his eyes the threat of bodily harm that he was thinking in regards to the man standing in front of him. He could only assume he had succeeded when the corners of Law’s mouth twitched up slightly, followed by the surgeon flipping Ace off before he turned around and walked off, sitting down and making himself comfortable with his back resting against the somehow still asleep polar bear.

He was seriously pissing Ace off.

He did have to give it to him, though; if nothing else, this asshole had guts. Reluctantly, Ace had to admit that was probably the most important qualification to pass as Luffy’s boyfriend. He was still not getting out of that interrogation though.

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[chapter 2 coming...... as soon as I can finish it]