#I image he comes back around the three tails incident

[chibivesicle]

Daniel Law - when you’re only human all you can do is smartly manipulate others

After writing one meta about Daniel, I realized that I’d only really hit the highlights of his character around three key events.   His introduction, the Noctova Smile Incident and then the Calamity Auction.  However, he pops in and out during the rest of Back 2 Back and I figured that he was worth a revisit.  Plus, I already write super long meta - I couldn’t fit everything about Daniel into that first one.

Let’s dive into Assistant Inspector Daniel Law a bit more.

This is pretty much the only image that I can find where Daniel is genuinely happy and not looking like a smug bastard.  Things resolved themselves, lives were saved and he got the outcome he’d wanted.

First off, I’d previously written about his formal introduction in the chapter ‘Run! Lunch!! Run!!!’ where he threatened to arrest Klaus and Steven in the back alley.  Going back on a read through and comparing with the wiki, I realized that he actually appears in ‘Z’s worst day part 2′.  Very stealthy there Nightow.  I didn’t even notice since I’d watched the anime first and will always think of his smug ass in the alley scene.

As all of the intoxicated citizens rush to see the plane be destroyed by the tentacles and the like the HLPD try to get them to move away from all of the chaos.

A policesuit tells Daniel that the drunks keep coming.  Of course Daniel replies as we’d expect him to, stating that it would be surprised for them to actually listen to the police order.  He then states that he needs facts and orders video for evidence.

As things wind down it is interesting that Steven is the one who gives orders to the team to disperse.  With clear instructions to shake off any police who might be tailing them.  Therefore, at this point in time it is unclear if the HLPD knows the current location for their office.

Then we have Daniel’s official introduction, which I’ve discussed at length.  And yes, he ‘convinces’ Libra to assist the HLPD using a moral argument to win over Klaus, implying he knows that Klaus is the person to target while Steven snarks back annoyed leading to the threat of arrest.   His comments about K.K. also tell us that he’s been doing his homework on Libra.  Perhaps, he was assigned to them or became the in house expert on Libra?

The next time he appears is when the immature Blood Breed is wreaking havoc and Leo is at the mercy of the deranged doctor who wants him for his eyes.  Daniel is charge of setting up the perimeter so it doesn’t cause more damage and he clearly called Libra (well, likely Steven) for assistance as soon as they figured it out was a Blood Breed.  I’m not sure if the title of captain is a typo/translation error or what.  The point is that Daniel is barking orders at the beat cops and threatens to dock their pay.

Daniel is annoyed but slightly relieved when Steven and Klaus arrive and he gives them the update on things.  That’s pretty much it.  He’s in a few background scenes but won’t do anything else active since the entire story is about Leo trying to figure out how to fight a mainly visible foe and contact Libra.

We get the return of Daniel in the Noctova Smile Incident which has lots of quality Daniel and Steven bickering.  Through context, we can determine that Steven and Daniel have met up other times between the events where we see them on the pages. Apparently Steven has a habit of showing up when it is any event of importance to Libra.

Their behind the yellow tape conversation highlights both of them don’t sleep enough (we already knew this for Steven) and it is clear both have their vices; coffee and cigarettes.  It also shows that they have very similar body posture, with much more slouchy/noodle than other characters.  I’ve previously stated that the two of them are very much each other’s foil.  Both will do whatever it takes to get people to do what they want but with different styles.  Steven will snark you quietly into submission all with a sly smile while Daniel will bark at you, but because his suggestion is valid you’ll go along with it.

Now, I’m going to call bullshit on Daniel in this scene.  Steven is quite upset spitting out that he has no faith in him at all and Daniel replies (without looking at him) that is his rule to not trust anyone.  This is a great example of Daniel using very threatening or menacing language but not following through on it.  Why do I say this?  He wouldn’t be able to do his job if his subordinates didn’t trust him in the first place.  And for his subordinates to trust him, he must also trust them as well.  Daniel Law does not lead through fear despite being very loud and emotional when giving orders.

For Noctova Smile, Daniel still uses his HLPD influence to have Libra work with them, but instead of going only to Steven and Klaus, he invites the key members to the precinct showing professional respect and dare I say it, trust. After the death of Veneno the interdimensional thief, we get the chapter where the role is passed onto his daughter, Venedranda.  Before that main point, Steven and Klaus meet with Daniel to get more information from the HLPD.  He stayed behind after the events resolved and Noctova Smile was destroyed by Klaus to continue to comb through the scene.

This really tells us that Daniel did his due diligence following the crime scene and that he’s detail oriented and wanted to find that mysterious blade. As he’s talking we get a clear view of their positions as they talk somewhere outside and undisclosed.  Daniel almost completely has his back towards them!  What was that about trust Daniel?  You definitely trust Klaus and Steven to turn your back to them and have your left hand in your pocket and right hand carrying your leather briefcase.

We get some monologue from him about how the incident is stuck in his brain. However, we don’t get the completion of that statement as he then pulls out the briefcase and hands a document to Steven.  I love how he doesn’t make eye contact with them when he holds the manila envelope out for Steven to take a look at it, making it clear that the information is confidential.

Yep, Daniel, sharing confidential information with Libra, I see where this is going.  Klaus then asks if they’d be able to examine the head but Daniel reveals it sucked itself into nothingness along with a part of the room.  As the chapter unfolds Daniel gets one more page where he gets to be a little badass.  It is obvious that he’s dealt with a lot of otherworldly items popping up in HL and that trying to understand them is pretty much impossible at best.

Interestingly, his monologue continues over the next page noting that it may be a sort of contract between the wielder and someone else related to the sword - very similar to what we know is the case for Leo.  So, kudos to you Daniel, you have a pretty good grasp of how these sorts of things work.

He shows up in all of volume 5. First, when Brody’s old gang, Dead Lynx, try to rescue him from prison with Hummer and the Warden Alice gets kidnapped along the way.  Thus, he has choice but to call in Libra since Brody & Hummer were taken along with the Warden as Brody & Hummer are technically Libra when he’s allowed out of prison.

For the two chapter, ‘My life as a Doc’, Daniel leading the HLPD runs directly into the Bradbury Hospital where Dr. Estevez works.  He is attempting to arrest a very nefarious criminal with the nickname ‘the mechanic’ as he’s able to manipulate everything to allow for him to fight, absorbing all sorts of random items.

The criminal dashed into the hospital grounds heavily wounded putting Daniel in an immediate pickle.

Luciana stands up and states that they will be taking things from here on out, which Daniel isn’t a fan of.

In typical Daniel fashion he demands he be handed over, but Luciana explains that he must be treated first.  Realizing that he’s stuck, Daniel asks if this is for real before calling Minsk a bastard.  Who gets half a page of hahahaha while we turn to Daniel in a terrible mood on a rooftop.  He angrily kicks a HVAC pipe or something of that sort while Mackenzie (who must be his partner) Steven and Klaus watch him vent from a distance.  Steven tries his “Now, now” which only gets cut off by Daniel telling him “Don’t you “Now, now” me!!”  Which tells us Steven has used his trademark line on him in the past and it no longer works on him.

Steven awkwardly looks like he wants to reach out and support or console but is stuck as Daniel continues to vent.  Again, with his back towards the three of them.  Interestingly, Klaus is the one who tries to reason with Daniel stating that Law and Estevez are both trying to do their jobs to the best of their abilities.  Welp, I guess this will be the last time Klaus tries to converse with Daniel in a professional setting how well that went over.  This allows for him to bring up an interesting point; we want to be sympathetic to those who are injured, even those who have committed crimes.  But what do you do when that person is going to use that time to be treated only to recover and return to their criminal activities?

This also has a line where Daniel states he needs to make the hospital staff remember that those with power (like himself) have a responsibility to the general public to protect them.

 Now back to his usual eloquent self, Steven asks the Assistant Inspector what he is going to do as someone with this power. Since he called them specifically to meet him on the roof top.  There is an odd silence before Daniel replies; it seems it takes him a minute or two to shift from ranting mode to work mode.  His solution is for Libra to be guards while Minsk recovers in the hospital, stating this is the best compromise he can manage.  And in that Daniel is legally correct - if this were a normal criminal there would be armed guards on him.

All of his reasoning is totally logical.  You can use normal mechanized guards against him and that he has the right to post guards on Minsk is all within normal protocol.  The only difference is that he has pulled in Libra for a favor since the HLPD can’t handle this and all of their abilities are not mechanical something he can’t manipulate.

As expected, Minsk eventually gets discharged, after threatening to kill everyone which is oh so pleasant in the room in front of the group too.  Daniel is waiting armed to the teeth and is also cleverly making use of Libra who are still there with Dr. Estevez keeping an eye on Minsk.  Once Klaus saw him in person, you know that Klaus would not let this man go if he hurt anyone.

As soon as he become aggressive both Steven and Chain along with Zed try to stop him, but it doesn’t go as planned since even he has counter measures to their attacks that he’s seen.

When Minsk is released as soon as he leaves the hospital grounds, Daniel orders the force to open fire on him to try to capture him.  This goes poorly yet he remains undeterred and boldly holds his ground as Minsk literally splits his body in two around Daniel.

This goes terribly, but it anything showed that Daniel trusted that the HLPD forces had his back, I don’t know what else would prove that point.  Ultimately, as things spiral out of control, Klaus tries to seal him like a Blood Breed which Steven stops and it looks pretty bad.  Yet, the one who finally figures out that they need to ask for aid from Luciana is Law.  Recognizing that she’s the person who healed him, he likely will be able to wound him in a humane-ish way.

She prepares to perform surgery on him to cause him to stop, but understanding her moral quandary, Leo messes with Minsk’s vision so he can’t see that Zapp and Klaus are protecting her and Klaus obliterates him into a blob of cells.  The cells were then collected and once she’s able to put him back together, he’ll stand trial.  Either way, this all ended with Daniel putting the right people in the right place to perform actions he could not accomplish.

Which led the the only panel where Daniel looked happy in the manga.  This also resulted him to taking Libra out for dinner and drinks but it devolved into a night from hell with Luciana and Chain outlasting the rest of the group.

Daniel is face down on the table his tie off to the side possibly wearing his dress shirt only.  Steven is passed out next to him looking equally disheveled with his tie loose and someone had managed to balance a bottle on his head.  Leo and Sonic are in the foreground looking pained while Klaus is limp in Luciana’s grasp.  I can’t image what the bill was when Daniel went to pay it much later.  Klaus may have forced Daniel into inviting Luciana to join them but it appears his gut reaction to exclude her was correct.

Before the Calamity Auction, Daniel returns for a minor role in ‘Be Quiet & Follow Me’.  As usual he’s the contact point for Steven as they are discussing the next job to stop another attempt to destroy HL. The HLPD have some sort of device that is in revision with their engineering team, who are stating that it will be able to get the job done.  Always skeptical, Steven asks if it is secure while Daniel bluntly tells him to shut up and not ask him.  This is a point where instead of saying, “I don’t know.” Daniel of course deflects that question and says that the engineering team said it will work.  Very political language there Assistant Inspector.

There is also management bonding during the course of the call where reservations about working with a domestic terrorist group aren’t an ideal option for the HLPD and Libra.  Doing their day to day job whether Libra or the HLPD is a giant money pit, so they will tread carefully moving forward.

We learn that Guinness Purururo is one of the engineers working on the updated HLPD device and she smartly asks where she could get a good glass of scotch.  Daniel kindly obliges her request allowing for her to find Patrick at his usual bar drinking alone.  As the chapter unfolds we learn that Patrick brought Neyka along with him from some previous job in her home country and they started working together.  We also learn that Patrick and Guinness dated a long time ago and ran in a similar group with K.K. as well, who knows her trade nickname of “Queen Bee”. 

Under some sort of weird mind control, Guinness’ son Andrew is used as a way to manipulate her including her sabotaging the HLPD device which results in a panicked call for Libra’s aid.  It is quite obvious that the engineers may have over engineered their own creation as Daniel screams out at why they designed it as such.

Libra rush to their aid, destroying the device.  Welp, another time things didn’t go Daniel’s way but this time, as we saw from his language earlier he wasn’t the person fully endorsing the device in the first place.  It slowly unfolds that Guinness was forced to sabotage the device and Patrick rescues her to the best of his abilities.  After he’s able to cause their van to crash no one other than Daniel is there to whisk them back to Libra to put the special anti-magic gun in perfect working order so that Libra can crush this week’s opponent set to destroy HL.  Daniel is more than willing to listen to their story as they fly back to Libra to save the day.

He knows that both of them are critical to the success of their current goals, as he did give Guinness information to find Patrick earlier.  However, once he delivers them to Libra he watches silently in the background.  Patrick states he’d return to her sooner, while Daniel snarks he won’t come and rescue him either.

The ending panel for the chapter has Daniel talking to no one in particular that there is not way the Patrick is going to run back to Guinness again.

While someone else comments that it is a bold declaration.  How do we read this?  That Daniel is correct in stating that Patrick should steer clear of trouble? Or is this how dense he is to the feelings that Patrick will always hold for Guinness despite having dated her a long time ago?  I could go either way, Daniel is no idiot but we have not seen him have a social life besides work, yelling at people to do things and meeting with Steven in secluded places. 

With that the next major arc with him is the Calamity Auction where he does many things including getting his ass literally frozen by Steven, violating house arrest, tracking the Blood Breed bat Bloodline Gate correctly, saving Chain in the process, making sure Leo isn’t hurt in all the chaos and then arresting the auction house owner. When Daniel no longer has his regular position of power, where he’s barking orders, he still has people who are more than willing to work with him.  For example, he snuck out on his own and started chatting up some of the beat cops who were on the ground when the auction house incident occurred.  MacKenzie finds him and joins him as Harrison reports what the snipers saw in regard to the bats.  Both men turn a blind eye to Daniel’s violation of house arrest.

This circles back to the whole concept of trust.  The fact that Harrison is ready to follow Daniel Law’s orders even when he’s technically under house arrest and off duty, the option is better than dying.  Which only results in a normal Daniel spaz response that he’d get fired.  However, he’ll reveal his active role when he spots the bats borrowing a police radio and drops his badge number.  Later, he’ll lead the SWAT team to the room with the bat gates, save Chain right as the bat blob was about to kill her and also find one of the active gates left behind.

What all can we conclude about Assistant Inspector Daniel Law?

Despite all of his bark, he doesn’t have a lot of bite.  He clearly trusts others in the HLPD, his partner MacKenzie, and a decent number of the beat cops.  Perhaps, not so much those guys in the policesuits?  They seem to get the most of his bitching.

He says that he doesn’t trust Libra but he frequently leaves his back towards Steven or Steven and Klaus when meeting them more discretely.  If anything, the fact that asked Steven for more information on the rooftop seems to show that the trust is a little bit more on Daniel’s side than Steven.  Whoever at the HLPD above Daniel was smart enough to go after Libra without his knowledge.  And when you look at all the times he’s either calling them or working on things with them it is obvious that he is the closest member of the HLPD to Libra. This really demonstrates that Daniel is excellent at manipulating others into helping him to achieve his goals - big picture - to protect HL and its inhabitants from all of the threats.  Daniel knows what words to say to get Klaus sucked in, how to convince Steven something is important and he even requested Luciana’s assistance when it was a smart thing to do.  Why does Daniel do this?  He doesn’t have any other options; he’s a fairly smart and honest guy who is still a normal human.  He knows he can’t make a difference in HL or the HLPD unless he plays things a bit differently.  This goes back to my previous comments in my first meta about him.  Daniel never uses his gun.  I keep thinking that he sees it as a moot point, thus, only finally drawing it when he arrests the auction house owner view the Bloodline Gate.

With Beat 3 Peat several chapters in, I’m still waiting with baited breath when Daniel will return.  Hopefully wearing his pinstripe three piece suit too.  That was when he had the best style.

#daniel law #lieutenant daniel law #inspector daniel law #kekkai sensen #kkss #kekkai sensen meta #blood blockade battlefront

[ultralightpoe]

Of Lilies - Steve Rogers

Description: Bridgerton Steve Rogers? Count me in. 

Authors Note: ENJOY! This is one of my favorite series so far and I am so friggin excited!!!!!!

Warnings: brock rumlow 

Word Count: 2527

First Part : Of Roses HERE

MAIN Master List - - Marvel Master List  

Dearest Reader, 

It is this author's most appalling duty to inform the ton on our Diamond and Sapphire of the season. Although it may have appeared that both ladies would have a quick and loving season, it seems that both are in for the long haul of it instead. 

Lady Daphne Bridgerton cannot seem to catch a males attention without her eldest brother Anthony shadowing her, whereas Lady Y/n L/nton seems more keen on chasing all her suitors away. 

It is safe to say the ton is chomping at the bit to see which male has the guts to take up Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n L/nton’s bad luck. 

This author is quite intrigued……..

         The paper pamphlet is squashed within your fingers before you can even finish reading the rest of it, anger rising through you as your mother sat in the corner fanning herself. 

         “That author doesn’t know what they are talking about!” She snaps, her face the splitting image of anger. “None of the incidents, NOT ONE, were considered bad luck. Do you hear me?”

         A laugh bubbled up into your throat but you tried to stop it, fearing your mother might go off the rails if she heard it. The truth was, you were indeed having the worst luck this season, is was almost as if you were cursed. 

         It had started at Lady Danburys ball, you had been so uprooted by the stranger and the rose in your hand that you were barely concentrating on everything around you. You didn’t hear when Lady Danbury tried calling your name or the three males that came up to ask for a dance, instead you were looking around for the stranger. Maybe you would see him in the cro-

         “Y/n! This is Lord Stark!” Your mother laughs, pulling you out of your stupor. Within moments you were on the dance floor with Lord Sterk and trying your best at a smile. 

         You don’t know what happened, you know that you had just gotten a peak at the stranger leaving through the back doors when suddenly your skirt tail was on fire. 

         Lord Sterk gasped out, trying his best at stomping it out as the crowd all watched on in fear. By the time the fire was out he was laughing nervously and breathing heavily while you were doing your best not to faint. 

         “Why thank you Lord Sterk-”

         “Stark.” 

         “I’m sorry?”

         “Stark. My name is…My name is Stark.”

         It only got worse from there. 

         You had dropped a glass of lemonade on the next suitor, and when you went to help clean it you hit your forehead on his nose and blood poured out. Then you had accidently tripped the next suitor into the river following. You didn’t even want to get into what happened to the third suitor. You had officially been labeled a hazard to the ton. Anyone who goes for Y/n L/nton was sure to leave with wounds. Imagine being married to her. 

         But that brought you back to today, when Lady Whistledown had written about it. Daphne had a call with Lord Berbrooke and a part of you wished you were still young so that you may run to her home and pretend to have a secret fairy garden in the back. This suitor thing was beginning to stress you out.

         “We must look our best for the cotillion tonight, this is a necessity.” Your mother admonishes, rushing to find you a dress. “Where is the white dress with the sapphires sewn into the top? What better way to remind everyone that you are the queen's chosen sapphire?!”

         You watched her for a moment before looking over to your nightstand where the rose, now shriveled and dead, sat. The red was bright and very prominent against the coloring of your room, easy for you to see. 

         You imagined the stranger at the ball, probably hiding once more from the dance and yelling at odd young ladies for attacking him. Goodness, you had no clue why this stranger had plagued your mind since you had seen him. 

         “Y/n?! Come here darling. We have lots to do!”

         After hours of being prepped you came out extravagant, which wasn’t a surprise for anyone. A sapphire diadem on top of your intricately braided hair and a dress decorated in lace and little sapphires sewn into the bust. You were indeed the picture of a sapphire. 

         Your mother had helped you into the boat, followed by your father and a few others of the ton, knees hitting daphnes in excitement as you looked out onto the water beyond. You were not only desperate to turn your season around, you were desperate to see the stranger again. 

         The shores smelled of fresh rain, and as you met Daphne on the ground you both sent wide smiles to each other. “Should you think I will get suitors tonight?”

         “Looking like that? You will be getting a proposal on the spot Daphne.” You laugh before making eye contact with a former friend. “There is Natasha. I must go say hello.”

         Daphne nods and lets go of your arm, following her mother to the garden where the cotillion would be placed. You make your way to the bright red head of hair that was holding a metal arm. 

       “Lady Natasha Romanoff…ton.” You smile, kissing her cheek like you used to as she looks to let her husband greet you. “And Lord Barneston.”

         Natasha had been a year before you, and had one of the shortest seasons in the tons history. Her season lasted 2 days before Bucky had proposed to her, some (Lady Featherington) had blamed it on light skirts, but anyone who knew the two knew it was because they had grown up together. They were a true love match. 

         “I hear this season is quite scandalous.” Natasha smiles as Bucky goes to fetch some lemonade. “Bucky himself is quite addicted to the little pamphlets they have been selling.”

         “Lady Whistledown? Oh she’s being an absolute pain to me.” You snap, giving her your best smile. “But she reports the truth. I am of cursed descent.”

         “Oh enough of that.” She laughs, linking your arms together. “It’s probably nothing but nerves.”

         “Easy for you to say, your season lasted 2 days. One of which Bucky was out hunting.” 

         “And I was nervous every second of them.”

         “I loathe you and your perfectness. I hope you know this.” 

         “Wanda sent me a letter. She is coming back for the season, and should be here by next week so you won’t be so lonely.”

         “I’m not lonely. I have Daphne. Not to mention you will be sponsoring Yelena here in a week or so. I will be busy.” You sigh before your mother makes eye contact from across the lawn. “If mother sees me wasting time with friends she might actually just finish me off.” 

         Natasha laughs, letting you go as she goes to find Bucky once more. You make your way across the lawn and begin to notice a pattern. Everyone was avoiding you. 

         Every step you take people around you take 3 more to get out of your path. 

         This goes on for a while, people scrambling out of the way as you head over. The embarrassment had completely taken over and you were close to tears as you rushed to the river edge for a moment to breathe.

         The tears fell freely as you climbed over the rocks to touch the water. You were so close when the rock you were stepping on gasped out and moved under you, sending you into the water with a gasp.

         “Oh my- nono no no.” Someone murmured, rushing to help you out of the water. You had just wiped the water from your eyes to see the stranger slip and fall into the waist deep water in front of you. His entire body went under before he was launching up onto his feet, shaking the water off. “Dear jesus!”

         You stared for a moment, mouth wide open as you watched him breathe out and look around. You waited for just a moment, still in movement, as he made eye contact.

         “What is with you and hiding in dark spaces?!” You snap, slapping the water. 

         “Me?! Why are you always attacking me?!” He snaps back, looking truly shocked at your outburst. “The common denominator here would be you stepping on me Lady L/nton!”

         “Or maybe the common denominator here is you being an incredulous creep and hiding in dark places.”

         “Creep? You followed me here!”

         “I did no such thing!”

         “Did I do something to irritate you? Have you got something held against me?!”

          “Something held against you?! I haven’t any idea who you are!” Which was indeed true. You had actually been asking around for any clue as to who he was since the night you saw him. 

         “Oh right, I’m supposed to believe you have no clue who I am?! You can stop your game now Lady Y/n-”

         “Oh with all due respect sir I think you can shove IT!” You snap, moving to walk out of the water, your skirts weighing you down and the cheap heels keep slipping in the mud below.  His face reveals shock for just a split second before falling into neutrality, reaching a hand out to help you. You spot this and anger flushes your body. “No thank you, good sir. I do not need you are any of your h-”

         Then, just like that, you were below water. Your heel had dug into the mud and you fell forward, body sinking for a moment before you were launching up from the water as he reached out to grab you. 

         He drags you both back to the rocks and sits you down before sitting down himself. “You are….. You’re nothing like what I met before.”

         “If you are trying to offend me-”

         “I’m not.”

         “You are.”

          “I was just saying that you are a shock through and through.” He snaps, fixing the scarf tied around his collar. “And if Lady Whistledown is to be believed you are merely stepping on me to catch my attention as a suitor.”

          “Are you implying that I am trying to catch suitors' attention by catching myself on fire and breaking noses?!” 

         “NO! I… I was trying to make a joke…..”

         “Your humor is something you should work on.” 

         “I have been told that quite often.”  He smiles, which has you smiling yourself. “I’m assuming you were hiding from the ton same as I, so……so let’s just call a truce on both halves.”

         “Deal. But I should know whom I am making a truce with.” 

          “You really do not know…” He mumbles as your eyes look at the lily placed on his jacket today. “Duke Steven Rogerton.”

           “Duke?”

           “Duke Rogerton. I’d prefer if my friends called me Steve.”

            “I’m assuming no one does then,” You joke before really thinking, holding your breath a bit at the diss you just gave. He laughs out a second later which has you sighing in relief.It’s a moment before he calms down, letting the silence fill the air as he watches you. 

            It’s a moment before you get nervous, looking towards the water as your mind begins to run wild. What would happen if someone were to find you alone with him, drenched from the river. 

            “I should probably go, give you time to dry off so no one thinks anything improper happened.” He whispers, hand slowly reaching out to fix the diadem on your head as you grab his wrist. The glove you are wearing prevents the skin contact you desired but he stares at you for a moment and the irritation at the fact vanishes. 

            “It was a rose last time.” You mumble softly.

            “I’m sorry?” He whispers back, eyebrows knitting in confusion as the deep blue eyes beneath them watch you closely. 

              “The flower on your jacket was a rose last time. It fell when you rushed out, and I kept it….” You admit before realizing how terrible it sounded, leading to a rant. “Which is odd because I don’t care much for roses, I find them to be ugly and tacky. They were my parents courting flowers and they were everywhere growing up but I find that they are the first hand symbol for easy love. Instead of taking the time to learn what your partner actually likes you instead give them a flower meant for passion as a cheap way out. That being said I kept the flower that you dropped because I thought it was pretty but now it’s shriveled up an-”

          “What is it then?”

            “I’m….I’m sorry?”

            “Your favorite flower? What is it?”

            “I…..Well I am quite fond of b-bleeding hearts.” You mumble, a heat rising through your body in embarrassment. “They are known to attract hummingbirds and are quite gorgeous.”

            “Bleeding Heart. Interesting name indeed.” He mumbles, slipping the glove off the hand that was holding his wrist ever so slowly before taking off the lily from his jacket and placing it in your open palm. He closes your fingers around it as he kisses the spot on your wrist where your pulse was beating frantically. “I shall see you about Lady Y/n.”

             With that he is gone, walking out of your sight as you try to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. “Goodness help me.”

             Once you are dry you return to the cotillion, watching Daphne dance with the other Duke (Which you once thought was the only Duke here tonight unmarried.) Your mother was racing towards you but you were only looking for Steve, until you bumped into someone else. 

              “Lady Y/n! I have been looking for you.” The new stranger smiles down at you, eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite recognize. “I was hoping to catch you for a dance.” 

             “Oh! I am so sorry, my card seemed to have gotten soaked.” You answer, holding up your wrist to show the dance card reduced to nothing. 

            “That just means you have room for one more dance.” He teases, before holding up his wrist. “Lord Brock Rumlow.”

            “It would be an honor.” You lie, grabbing his hand gently as he leads you to the dance floor. 

             He keeps a tight hold on your hand, gripping so tight that it almost hurt, and while you dance you trip over him quite a couple times. 

            It isn’t until the lights start (they were calling it electricity) That you looked around to see if Steve was still there. Once you made eye contact with him you found him already staring, a glare placed on his features as he looked at Brock. What was that about?

           It wasn’t until you were alone in your room that you dared to take the lily out from where you hid it in your corset, setting it on the nightstand next to the rose. That night you dreamt of him once more, and when you awoke you could have sworn your wrist was burning up.

Next Part : Of Bleeding Hearts 

#Steve Rogers #steve #rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain #america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel #MCU #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #slowburn

[uchihaz]

AU where Obito returns to Konoha and uses his Tobi persona to go uncover just to have fun. He and Sukea become friends and neither of them suspects the other.

#ez.post #naruto #tobi akatsuki #obito uchiha #sukea #art #ez.art #idk if my wording made it clear but he was never in akatsuki #I image he comes back around the three tails incident #and Rin is alive of course #just said fuck it to the lineart this time #and the colors #I like the redesign but I didn’t know how to color it #so I just went to the nine tails attack color palette #though the purple looks much darker on my phone than my computer #brought back the chains because they’re sexy though the fuction is kinda mixed w/the 4th war weapon design #I have redesign sketches but they’re pretty incomprehensible so I didn’t include them

[obeymeluv]

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc. 

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content. 

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts: 

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you. 

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates). 

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking). 

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy. 

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything. 

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair. 

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings. 

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree. 

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable. 

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

#Obey me! #Obey me! x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Levi x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x reader #Beel x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphie x Reader #Belphegor x Reader

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Underground Tomb edition!)

Hello friends and degenerate sinners, this is basically a mini headcanon set for Luci’s kid!MC about how the incident with Luke and the Grimoire would go down in this AU to tide you all over until Part 3 comes out! Enjoy!

It was a normal night in the good ol’ HOL... Lucifer was doing paperwork at an ungodly hour of the night, Beel was in the kitchen, and Mammon was screaming and running for dear life. Ah... sweet normalcy.

The custard incident remained the same, MC got force-fed custard and Beel threw a truly fantastic hunger tantrum that culminated in the wall connecting to MC’s room collapsing.

Cue lecture from Luci-father.

“I am very disappointed in you three.” Lucifer rubbed his temples as MC, Beel, and Mammon awkwardly stood in his room. Mammon of course, was trying to avoid the death glares MC was giving him. Poor bastard.

“Especially you two, MC and Beel.”

“Whuh?!” Mammon sputtered. “What about me?!”

“I expect this from you. These two on the other hand,” Lucifer raised an eyebrow at MC who was awkwardly trying to suppress a laugh at Mammon’s aghast expression. “Should know not to act like this.”

“We’re *snrk* sorry, father,” MC paused to try and muscle through a giggle. “It won’t happen again.”

“He ate my custard...” Beel pouted.

“So, MC won’t be able to use their room anymore due to the wall... collapsing.” Lucifer gave Beel a pointed glare.

Mammon smirked, and if he were sitting on a couch, we would have leaned back and kicked his feet up. “Well, obviously since I’m a kind and generous soul I’ll open up my room for poor MC to stay in. My babysittin’ rates are quite high though-”

“BABYSITTING?!” MC snarled, giving Mammon a death glare that could probably kill lesser demons.

Lucifer felt a twinge of pride upon seeing his child give someone his signature bone-chilling glare, if he weren’t supposed to be disappointed he would have given MC a pat on the head and let them hang Mammon from the ceiling.

“Uh- heh- MC, I’m your favourite uncle! Me babysittin’ ya should be an honour!” Mammon was sweating bullets and desperately looking to Beel for help.

“Levi is rapidly approaching favourite uncle status.” MC crossed their arms and huffed.

“Levi?! Wait- does that mean I was your favourite-”

Lucifer was almost tempted to stick MC in Mammon’s room just to have MC punish Mammon so he could get some sleep, tragically, his common sense won out. “MC will be staying with Beel. He has an extra bed in his room after all.”

MC looked over at Beel and smiled. “Could be worse, right? I’ll replace the custard.”

Beel’s smile upon hearing the last part could have lit up the entire Devildom. What a sweetie.

MC still chilled in Beel’s room. They finally got to ask more questions about Belphie, and Beel is more inclined to share what’s up because MC is his big bro’s kid after all!

Because of MC’s half demon-ness, they hadn’t met Belphie at that point in the story unlike in canon. They were just curious about their missing uncle. They ALSO already knew what Belphie looks like because Lucifer gave them an in depth tour of everything and he pointed out all the portraits.

MC, being the sadistic sweetheart they are, went out and bought themselves and Beel replacement custard. MC made sure to eat it right in front of Mammon.

But my oh my, who was texting them? *gasp!* Luke!

MC obviously let their little angel buddy into the house (Luke did not know about MC’s parental situation at that point, keep that in mind). Luke was fun to tease a little after all! And it was nice to have another kid around, but MC would never admit it.

Since MC had literally no reason to be afraid of their dear old dad, they went right up to him and asked him if Luke could stay over. No fear.

“Father?” MC leaned on the doorway to the backyard, Lucifer was playing fetch with Cerberus. MC had never seen someone play fetch so robotically.

“Yes, MC?” Cerberus’ middle head dropped a slobber covered squeaky toy into Lucifer’s gloved hand, the other two heads snapped at the middle one.

“Can I have a friend over?” MC asked, trotting over to give Cerberus some pets. On the first day the dog had tried to eat them, but after giving him some much tastier bacon treats, Cerberus was sweet as pie. Murderous and dangerous pie, that is.

“Do I know this friend?”

“Yes, it’s Luke. Can he stay over?”

Lucifer wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes. “Cerberus is right here, you have access to a dog. Why on earth would you bring the chihuahua over?”

MC snorted and gave Cerberus’ right head some scratches behind the ears. “He’s not a chihuahua all the time, come on, it’s for the good of the exchange program!”

The two had a stare down for a little while, and to his absolute horror, Lucifer felt his resolve cracking. This child of his was too adorable for their own good. “Fine, MC.”

“Yes!” MC fist pumped as Cerberus’ middle and left heads tried to join in on the ear scritches.

“But note,” Lucifer continued. “I expect a full report to give to Lord Diavolo on this whole experience.”

MC frowned and debated sticking their tongue out at their father, they decided against it. “A paper? On a sleepover? Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Lucifer gave MC a flick on the nose. “Like you said, it has to do with the exchange program. Now go make sure the chihuahua doesn’t die and leave you with a mess to clean up.”

The look of complete terror Luke gave MC when they told him that Lucifer said he could stay over was completely worth the paper they were going to have to write.

“What?! You weren’t supposed to tell him I’m here!”

“He said you could stay.”

“Why?! Oh no... did he demand your soul as payment or something?! MC! You shouldn’t have put yourself in that nasty demon’s debt! Don’t worry, I’ll get your soul back somehow.”

MC should have been offended... but they weren’t. I mean, could you stay mad at Luke when he just offered to fight arguably the second most powerful demon in the Devildom to get your soul back?

Now that Luke’s presence in the house was known to everyone, the challenge was no longer keeping Luke hidden, it was making sure Luke didn’t say anything that would get him killed and making sure none of the demon bros made Luke cry.

Mammon was the main culprit of the teasing because Lucifer actually had better things to do. And he had a (totally not a) date with Diavolo so he’d be back late and wouldn’t be home to tease the chihuahua.

Mammon’s status as favourite uncle was hanging by a thread by the end of the first day.

Asmo thought Luke was positively adorable and also very annoying. He offered to paint MC and Luke’s nails. Luke declined, but MC was all for it. (Their cuticles were a MESS by the way, they needed the manicure.)

Luke’s nails were painted gold to match the gold on his outfit! Asmo was quite proud of his work, and was very offended when he was not allowed to try and braid Luke’s hair.

“It looks so soft!”

“You’re not allowed to touch my hair, demon!”

Satan still disliked MC on the basis that they were just a mini-Lucifer and hung out in his room or the library to avoid them and Luke.

It was incredibly annoying when Luke and MC burst into the library to look for cookbooks and treat recipes after Luke told MC about his baking endeavours. Satan debated ordering a pair of ear plugs on Akuzon...

Or perhaps a laser gun...

Both would make him stop hearing the children’s grating voices.

“You two, be quiet.”

“We haven’t spoken since we got in here...”

“You’re breathing too loud.”

Beel remained the only brother who was actually decent to Luke, they all played Go Fish in Beel’s room.

Levi was in his room playing his new video game just like in canon, but he could hear Luke and MC running around outside his room.

He was fully prepared to do that introvert thing where you stay in your room until you hear someone say goodbye to the guest.

Levi’s eyes were glued to his computer screen, just eight more skeleton monsters to kill and he’d get the achievement! His attention crumbled the moment he heard the dreaded sound of...

Guests...

“Hey MC! Whose room is this?”

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall caused Levi to jump in his seat. Oh no... his worst fears were realized! There was another person in the house!

“That’s Asmodeus’ room. Luke you shouldn’t go around opening everyone’s doors-”

The sound of another door opening and shutting made Levi pause his game and look at Henry 2.0 for help. Maybe if he jumped into the tank and wrapped himself in his tail he’d camouflage into his surroundings...

BAM!

AAAAA! Not enough time! The guest was drawing nearer... he was going to have to... *barf*... SOCIALIZE!

“How about this room?”

Levi braced himself for the incoming social contact... Fs in the chat everyone...

“We shouldn’t bother Levi, let’s do something else.”

HAJEKDJSJSJSJD- BEEL! BEEL JUST SAVED LEVI’S LIFE!

The poor third born slumped back in his seat, the awfulness of socialization avoided. He uh... hadn’t actually left his room in maybe three days... maybe he should actually go outside... enjoy the nonexistent sunlight, y’know?

...nah. Levi went back to his game.

Since the kitchen was broken, Beel, MC, and Luke went out and get AkuDonald’s. They were all out of the toy that Luke and MC wanted so that trip was a disaster! A disaster I say!

Just the image of Beel happily chomping on his eighth burger while Luke and MC angrily pick at their fries makes me want to laugh.

Now the question you’re all waiting for, did Lucifer try and kill Luke and Beel and then MC for trying to take the Grimoire?

N O

“Whose room is behind that door?” Luke pointed to the door to the attic staircase.

MC shrugged and hit their knuckles against the door a few times. “It’s just the door to the attic. My uh- Lucifer said not to go up there because it’s just full of old junk.”

Normally MC would scoff at the idea of being told what not to do and do it out of spite, but MC was a child, and like most children, they hated scary attics. They hadn’t even attempted to open the door in the month they had lived in the house.

“Hm, maybe he’s hiding something...” Luke puffed out his cheeks and knocked on the door. When met with no answer, Luke turned the doorknob. The door creaked open, and the two peeked inside.

A tall spiral staircase greeted them as they tentatively stepped inside. Not so-good Lord, the room was freezing, but it didn’t seem to bother Luke as he walked further into the room.

“What do you think’s up there?” Luke asked, craning his neck to try and get a look at what could be at the top of the stairs.

MC shuddered and crossed their arms. “Like Lucifer said, junk. Nothing important.”

There was a tingling feeling at the base of MC’s neck, their hand flew to the spot only to find nothing, but the uneasiness didn’t cease. Something was very... very off. A shudder creeped up their spine as Luke stepped closer to the staircase.

“Come on,” Luke tutted, placing a hand on the railing. “Demons are known liars!”

Luke was quite difficult to be friends with sometimes, MC had to admit.

With every step Luke took up the stairs, the sense of dread brewing in MC’s gut grew, but they remained rooted to the spot, it was almost like something was physically stopping them from getting closer to those stairs.

Luke stopped on the sixth step and craned his neck to look up again. “Hello?” He called out.

His little voice echoed up the staircase, he was met with no reply for a moment, until a massive shudder wracked both his and MC’s spines.

“Hello.” A voice replied.

Quick as lightning MC dove forward, taking three steps up the stairs despite what felt like electric shocks stabbing into their skin, and yanked Luke back down the stairs and out the door, closing it behind them. MC heard a lazy, carefree chuckle reverberate through their head, and a message that only MC could hear.

“Leaving so soon, Lucifer?”

...

Spooky right?

Anyway- back to Luke and MC being idiots together.

They headed back to Beel’s room to watch some Devildom kid shows, I assume Tom and Jerry just played on repeat.

Luke explained the reason he ran away from Purgatory Hall, and MC legitimately debated whether or not they should throw Luke out of the nearest window for all the jabs he was taking at demons.

“Simeon was going to go out for tea with Diavolo! He even said that I could ask Barbatos to instruct me on the finer points of baking!”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“They’re demons, MC! Simeon and I are angels from the Celestial Realm! We shouldn’t be consorting with demons.”

Once again, bless Beel and his lack of murderous rage when it came to anything other than food.

“MC, Lucifer would be upset if you broke a window.”

“What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing Luke, nothing you need to worry about.”

Don’t worry, no angels were harmed during the visit.

On day two of the extended sleepover, Luke and MC decided to go running around the house again.

“And this is the basement.” MC put their hands on their hips and kissed their teeth as they looked around the Underground tomb. “Perfectly creepy.”

Luke shuddered. “Is this house nothing but one creepy room after another..?”

MC smiled and stuck out their tongue. Their fear of the attic did not extend to the underground tomb. Not that they were actually afraid of the attic or anything...

“Why? You scared some big monster is gonna getcha?” MC teased.

“No!” Luke gasped. “I’m not scared!”

MC began to walk backwards into the darker depths of the tomb, their teasing tone echoing off of the walls. “Then come on! Don’t be chicken!”

Luke looked back and forth from the door out of there, to the rapidly disappearing figure of MC, he rushed after MC.

“I’m not scared of some dark basement.” Luke huffed.

“Why not~?” MC snickered. “There could be ghosts down here... tortured souls of those who were damned to Hell for all eternity~!”

MC swiped Luke’s hat and placed it on their head, Luke jumped at the sudden contact and began to try and get the hat back from MC.

“Stop trying to scare me!” Luke yapped, MC laughed and began to jog deeper into the tomb.

“Maybe there’s a monster that eats chihuahuas down here too! Who knows!” MC twirled the hat with their fingers and ran a little faster when Luke ran after them.

“I AM NOT A CHIHUAHUA!”

Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best course of action to tease and scare one’s friend instead of telling them what they said earlier was mean, but MC wasn’t the best at decision making.

When MC reached a dead end, they stopped and looked around, Luke crashed right into them. He managed to swipe his hat back from a now disinterested MC.

MC’s gaze landed on a book being held up by a statue, they padded over and looked up at it.

“Luke, do you know what that is?” MC asked, turning to look at their now very miffed friend.

“The... book? I don’t know.”

Truthfully, MC didn’t know either. During their first tour of the house, Mammon had interrupted the Underground tomb segment and Lucifer had to cut the tour short.

“It’s uh...” MC pursed their lips and tried to think of a convincing lie. “A spell book. Lucifer told me that it makes your magic really really strong, so he stuck it down here to hide it from Solomon.”

“Did I now?”

MC and Luke screamed and whirled around, there stood Lucifer himself, not looking terribly pleased with the two of them.

“MC, care to explain why you and the angel are so close to the Grimoire?” Lucifer’s words were icily calm, and MC knew that meant if they didn’t come up with a good explanation they’d be in big trouble.

“W-we were just playing down here...” MC trailed off, looking to Luke for some kind of backup before realizing what a stupid idea that was.

“Y-yeah! We were just-”

Lucifer stuck his thumb over his shoulder and glowered at the two. “Out.”

“Yes sir.” Luke and MC mumbled as they stepped away from the Grimoire, Lucifer relaxed slightly as the two walked past him and down the hall.

When the two got back up to Beel’s room, Luke suddenly gasped and turned to MC.

“You said it was a spell book!”

After that, MC got the feeling that Luke was no longer welcome in the house. What was the big deal about almost touching the Grimoire anyway? It could only override pacts and control demons-

Oh.

Balls.

Simeon got called to pick up Luke and before the two of them left MC assured Luke that he could come over and hang out anytime as long as he texted first.

Beel said Luke could come over and bake when the kitchen was fixed, poor Beel would have to do without Luke’s baked goods for a little while longer.

MC rested their chin on the coffee table they were kneeling in front of, stewing in annoyance. Their unfinished homework was practically mocking them, but the Demonology textbook was not what had them in their funk.

“MC, do your homework.” Lucifer said from the living room couch, he was comparing his phone to notes in a binder that was placed on his lap.

A grunt from MC caused him to raise an eyebrow. Their grasp on demonic language had improved, but Lucifer did not approve of them using their new skill to sass him.

“MC.” Lucifer chided, MC turned to look at him with a deadpan expression. “If there’s something wrong, either tell me, or do your work without complaining.”

MC turned back to their homework and tapped their pencil against the textbook, before puffing out their cheek and turning back to Lucifer.

“What’s in the attic?”

For the briefest of moments, Lucifer froze, he forcibly relaxed and went back to his work.

“Junk.” Lucifer replied. “Did you try and go up there?”

MC shook their head. “No, I went into the staircase room, but not up the stairs.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed, he then took a deep breath and looked at MC. “Good, there’s nothing of interest up there anyway. If you did go up there you might break something or hurt yourself.”

“Okay.” MC sighed, trying to push the voice from the attic out of their mind. “What about the Grimoire? Why is it down in the tomb?”

Lucifer could feel his patience growing thinner and thinner with every question. “So it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Why not just destroy it?” MC asked, their question wasn’t meant to be taken as an insult or be malicious, it was just legitimate curiosity. “Wouldn’t that be safer?”

The first born hesitated before he answered. He looked over MC, before shaking his head. “...I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

MC’s eyes narrowed, but they went back to their work all the same. It would be about ten minutes of quiet before MC spoke up again.

“When Belphegor gets back from the human world, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, huh?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to look at MC, who still had their back turned to him as they scribbled notes from the textbook. His grip on his DDD tightened as he replied.

“Why do you say that, MC?”

MC didn’t seem to register their father’s clipped tone, and shrugged. “Beel said that he isn’t answering his texts or calls, and when he sent up a letter Belphegor didn’t respond to that either.”

“The life of an exchange student is a busy one, as you can see.” Lucifer forcibly injected his last bit of remaining calmness into his words as he gestured at MC’s homework. MC laughed at that.

“Yeah well, I still make time to call my friends and ren back up in the human world.” MC giggled. “And I’m sure those text notifications about his older brother discovering that he has a child would make him pick up the phone.”

“Belphegor might have a much larger workload.” Lucifer retorted, trying to keep himself from snapping at MC.

“But still, you’d think he’d call his-”

“MC-” Lucifer snarled, MC whirled around, the fear and shock in their eyes caused anything Lucifer was going to say to die in his throat.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lucifer took another deep breath and turned back to his work.

“Not right now, MC,” Lucifer whispered. “I’m working.”

...

To be continued...

#Obey me #Obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Satan #Lucifer’s Kid #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Luke #when I say to be continued- I mean more diverging from canon #I have a feeling the lovely London family trip went smoothly... totally

[lunarfortune]

busts open tumblr's door, I'm gonna crosspost both of my threads from twitter for convenience and make them considerably wordier. This is not solely my own ponderings but shared brain thoughts with @tahthetrickster

STRAP IN because I’m going to take the League tag on a wild ride involving these three gals and how relationships form between them.

Long post under the cut! 2.5k+ words

(updated 13 june 2023 to add fic)

We start with the most important part of this entire thing, developing the relationship between Sarah Fortune and Shyvana. Why would they even interact?

Because Ruination.

Wait, no, come back, not that one.

Very important note here that what kicked off this entire thing was literally me seeing Ruined Miss Fortune get revealed and thinking, hmm what if Ruined MF/Ruined Shyv, would be a shame if I thought too hard about that and got invested...

Much of this plotting was prior to Sentinels of Light event launching, so if you hated that, good news! It has zero bearing here.

So let's actually get to the girls. There are certain visual headcanons to take note of

For heights, Sarah is about 178cm and Shyvana comes in at a respectable 201cm. (Kat will come into this later but she is 181cm).

There are several things about Shyvana's design that irk me, so for the purpose of this au her traits are adjusted to emphasize her half dragon nature. She has digitigrade clawed feet, because giving her clawed heels is massively dumb, just make her digitigrade Riot. She leaves her Dragonguard armour behind under Jarvan's recommendation, so rather than the large, impractical "horns" from the helmet, she has much smaller real horns that are about 8-10cm large. She also bears a tail about \~91cm long in human form. Also her ears are pointed! Ruined Shyvana has pointed ears but base Shyvana does not, which should be a crime.

* These values are rough estimates bc frankly I'm just ballparking

Worth noting! Being a half-dragon and considerably more reptilian than a human, Shyvana does not have breasts.

First row 1) Official splash 2) LoR promotional key art

Second row 1) LoR Lv2 art 2) LoR lv1 art

Second image promo art that appears on patch notes sometimes

Barring one outlier (the key art) we can agree she is mostly depicted with some sort of hard plate scaling on her chest? So put a bit more emphasis on her being somewhat flat-chested, it will make more sense if Tah ever posts any writing referring to Shyvana's chest/pecs.

also she doesn't have external genitals but anyway this is just relevant for Tah's Kinktober collection

During her stay in Bilgewater, Shyvana wears mostly casual garb appropriate for the region, so attire such as this, with digitigrade style boots/sleeves (things like this) for traversing around the city with. Would you roam Bilgewater without some sort of footwear? I didn't think so.

Post-Harrowing many of those under Viego's possession retain some sort of visual indicator of what he did to them. Often this can be a streak of white hair left behind from their possessed form. For Sarah, she has a bold splash of white near her left temple. Shyvana bears one near the nape of her neck.

These are actually not too important in the long run, but immediately following the Harrowing and for Sarah's case especially, they are marks of betrayal and distrust. It leaves Sarah largely stuck at home and unable to conduct business as normal in Bilgewater proper for some time because its citizens are too volatile and it's better to just allow time for things to settle down and not rile them up further.

***

Shyvana finds her way to Bilgewater as a result of the intense distrust Demacians hold for her after the incident with Viego. She arrives as a sort of political refugee, Jarvan having petitioned to Sarah for her safety while Demacia struggles to restabilize. Many in Demacia want to see Shyvana permanently imprisoned or worse for her role in Viego's Ruination, and so Jarvan privately sends a missive to Sarah seeking asylum for Shyvana until it's safe for her to return.

Bilgewater isn't exactly the optimal choice but realistically there aren't too many people Jarvan can approach about "hey can you potentially host the half dragon that was involved in that disastrous near cataclysmic event we all just went through recently?" What with having been involved as well, Sarah understands. As previously noted, Sarah herself also faces an elevated level of distrust for her among Bilgewater denizens, resulting in her delegating affairs mostly from her own residence with Rafen's assistance.

Given that Sarah is for the most part stuck in her own home, you could say she's... experiencing a bit of boredom. This winds up being part of why she agrees to Jarvan's request, like okay, sure, send the dragon over, it couldn't end up being any worse for me than it is right now. A temporary housemate could give her something else to focus on. Both Shyvana and Sarah are initially told this could be months at most (but stabilization and rebuilding in Demacia takes longer than Jarvan anticipated so this ends up being over a year).

Sarah and Shyvana both suffer trauma from Viego's possession. Reminded of the cold, dark grip of the Mist, neither finds sleep easy to come by. While Viego may be gone, in some respects part of Sarah and Shyvana's minds are still trapped in the Harrowing, fearing that they could abruptly become aware that they are still possessed, that Viego was never defeated. They can't trust themselves, and they can't trust others. Being somewhat of a soldier and having the extended endurance of being half-dragon, Shyvana is able to make do with what little bits of rest she can catch. Sarah meanwhile is running on empty.

Exhaustion eats at her, she hasn't slept other than periods of time her body simply gives out, and she knows she can't deal with this for much longer. For the first few nights after Shyvana comes to Bilgewater, she lays awake listening to Sarah wandering restlessly through the villa. Only by sheer coincidence does Sarah (and Shyvana shortly after) find any sleep, abruptly passing out in Shyvana's grip after venting her frustrations in a fit of exhausted delirium. Realizing the following morning that she fell asleep at all, she latches onto a theory. It's silly, she realizes as she relays it to Shyvana, but so far it's the only lead she's got. If the terror of the Mist's cold embrace is what keeps her awake, would Shyvana's inherent warmth combat that? Could she rest without waking in fear that she's still controlled by the Mist? Shyvana doesn't mind entertaining this theory; if one of them can sleep at all she'll consider it beneficial. Being human though, Sarah gives off comparatively little body heat, unlike the elevated body temperature of a half-dragon.

Something something "there was only one bed" trope, except make it "we are deeply traumatized and sharing a bed out of necessity so we may feasibly get some rest and feel comforted by the warmth we give each other, otherwise the sleep exhaustion will eventually end us." So this mutual bed sharing frames much of how their relationship develops in the months following, because it's awfully hard to literally sleep with someone and not come to get to know them and grow close to them.

The closeness is not really a problem, until one Sarah Fortune abruptly realizes that her typical casual flirting is decidedly crossing into more... genuine territory, though thankfully Shyvana is seemingly oblivious, which was fine up until "oh gods am I pining." Add to her later mortification the fact Shyvana liked her as well but just assumed the flirting didn't mean anything since people don't typically like her and Sarah is a notorious flirt anyway, so she just kinda humoured it and inadvertently led Sarah to think she wasn't interested. Finally realizing their feelings are mutual though, the two do agree to trying a romantic relationship.

I know Kat's tattoo and scar are backwards, Shyvana's LoR key art is just goofy looking and looks worse flipped, accept it for the aesthetic

So with setting up Sarah and Shyvana out of the way, we move to Katarina and Shyvana. These two inherently cannot be a thing without developing Sarah and Shyvana first. All of this is set up with background Sarah/Kat; they have known each other for some years, and Kat is known to drop by Bilgewater on occasion in her downtime. They deny being anything more than friends with benefits at best, which.. will change later lol. But Sarah/Shyv is important because the relationship Sarah has with Shyvana affects a lot of how Kat treats her afterward, and Sarah's trust for Kat is what drives Shyvana to in turn pay more attention to Kat and regard her favourably later. Sarah's encouragement of Shyvana embracing her draconic nature rather than forcing herself to be more human is also a large part of what later sparks Kat's interest.

Since Sarah will never know ahead of time when Kat decides to pop by, the first time she does so while Shyvana is staying in Bilgewater goes quite.. disastrously, to say the least. The two have no respect for one another, and squabble frequently. Try as she might to put the presence of an infamous Noxian assassin currently in the house with her out of mind, Shyvana realizes that Kat does certain things with deliberate intent to rile her up. Several days of this is enough for Sarah finally to snap.

Snippet courtesy of Tah. (THIS IS OUTDATED NOW I THINK BUT YOU GET THE IDEA)

Kat is content to take "be silent" to heart and just ignore Shyvana outright. She has no reason to play nice with a good little loyal Demacian. As far as she's concerned, there's nothing to be said between them that wouldn't get her angry. She does question Sarah as to why she cares so much of this little fling of hers, which Sarah regards with some confusion. It's certainly not a fling, and in fact, Sarah may not even be around now if Shyvana hadn't come to her when she did. The long period of sleep deprivation had been taking its toll on her, and she had been very much near the end of her rope.

Listening to how fondly Sarah speaks of the half-dragon, it is with great horror that Kat realizes she had been wrong about certain assumptions (namely telling Shyvana that she was nothing more than a toy Fortune would eventually tire of) and she has to make an apology (largely for Sarah's sake, of course). While not.. impressed by this debacle, Kat apologizing at all (and seemingly in great pain doing so) does leave Shyvana curious and she decides maybe there is something to her after all.

The two don't inherently get along after this but over the months they warily regard each other and come to find a sort of kinship in both being disillusioned soldiers, that neither is the mindless loyal soldier that the other thought. Being in neutral ground at Sarah's residence and finding common ground with each other, gradually they relax around one another. Kat's visitations no longer puts Shyvana on guard, and Shyvana's presence is one Kat accepts without ridicule. Sarah could not ask for a better outcome! With this slowburning friendship of sorts the two start to develop, Shyvana realizes that when she thinks about the things she has learned over the months, there is certainly more to Kat that interests her.

She likes her, in fact.

It's a simple thought, and Shyvana chews on it for a while. Kat intrigues her, provides a good sparring partner and is clearly physically attractive but if Shyvana approaches this carelessly then Kat could very well rebuff her instantly. So she waits patiently. She lets their relationship, both the budding one between herself and Kat and the three way one with Sarah, flow naturally, until one day seeking advice from Sarah on the prospect of potentially courting Kat.

***

It really is hard to condense months worth of discussion and character exploration into a single post but this sure is an attempt. There is so much more we have discussed but also like... ultimately this is our big headcanon playground we have built up, this thing is essentially our baby there will be one of those too

. When the Kat/Shyv aspect forms, it in turn drives Sarah and Kat to accepting there is more between them than they've ever allowed themselves to think. It's a very slow process of the three of them, each with their own baggage and hang ups, learning to slowly trust one another with the pieces of themselves they can't entrust to anyone else.

This has been absolute HELL for me to type up but if anyone else enjoys it then worth ✌

__

Tah's currently posted works involving this pair:

Manicure - Sarah/Shyvana, Teen+

My Favorite Most Dangerous Fascination - Misc pairings, Explicit, Kinktober (slow updates but planned Kat/Shyv and Sarah/Kat/Shyv at a later date) (MAYBE)

I HAVE FINALLY UPDATED THIS 13 JUN 2023 WITH SOME OTHER STUFF WAHOO

Morning Routine - Sarah/Shyana, Teen+

Redolent of Romance - Misc, Teen+, Twitter prompt drabbles

Animal Oddity - Sarah/Shyvana, Mature, THE BIG ONE THE MAIN EVENT THE LONGFIC (Chapter 2 up!) ✨✨✨

__

Miscellaneous tidbits that are not chronological:

While Shyvana may be called Ana by some Demacians like Jarvan and the Dragonguard, Sarah and others call her Shyv. Rather region appropriate because a shiv is also a homemade knife, and Bilgewater isn't lacking those

Bilgewater simply does not care in regard to Shyvana being half-dragon. They have fish and reptile people and all manner of oddities, Shyvana is frankly just another day of the week. It's something that surprises her initially, being so used to being regarded unfavourably in Demacia simply for existing, though she understandably comes to find it a relief.

Sarah likes braiding trinkets into Shyvana's hair, including ones bearing her own crest. She's not claiming Shyvana, what makes you think that

Stretching dragon peets

Shyvana tends to workout and do some personal training sessions in the morning to stay in shape since she's not on duty for the time being.

Kat and Shyvana's first spar was Kat looking to prove a point and getting her ass handed to her. While a bit shameful (Kat is Not Immune to strong buff women!), it's been a long while since either had had a strong opponent so sparring becomes a habit when Kat drops by. Which she also complains about because she is also off duty, Fortune your dragon is making me work 🙄

Sarah took one look at Shyvana's Dragonguard armour once and laughed her ass off. Oh hun, no, who made this, you're better off just relying on your natural dragon scale. She later had some more appropriate styled armour made. She has her own forge and has a better eye for metalwork than.. whatever that red mess was.

While the Sentinels event never happened here, the skirmish between Shyvana and Vayne did in some aspect, and Shyvana retains some scarring from Vayne's bolts that sometimes ache with incoming bad weather.

Shyvana does make periodic visits back to Bilgewater when she returns to Demacia, and she and Sarah exchange letters while they are apart. Curiously she experiences feelings of homesickness despite being home and it takes her a while to realize that sometimes home is not necessarily the place you live, but the person you love. (Sarah is absolutely NOT acknowledging the deep pining she was struck with after Shyvana left, Rafen will say it was quite sad and pathetic to watch though) This eventually leads to Shyvana making arrangements to relocate to Bilgewater as a sort of ambassador.

Sarah has several pets: a three-legged cat named Scurvy, a spectral shark named Atlas, and a spiderling (roughly the size of a housecat) named Mila. Mila is one of Elise's spiders and is part of... an entirely different can of worms I'll have to explain sometime 😭 but she grew on Sarah. Sarah knows when they've spotted a fly because both cat and spiderling will sit together watching patiently. (GUESS WHAT RUINED KING SAYS MY HC OF ELISE SOMETIMES HUNTING IN BILGEWATER IS VALID THO)

Some years down the line and through the aid of some magics that took a lot of work to find, the three have a daughter together named Adeline Fortune. Addie bears genetics and characteristics of all three of her mothers; it's a fantasy world, don't think too hard about it.

#League of Legends #Miss Fortune #Shyvana #Katarina du Couteau #drops my 'half dragon and her two feral redheads' agenda #also rafen is gay #i'm going to be honest i'm mostly putting this on tunglr for tah #anyway i spent a century on this and the post editor is so different to me help #guess what tag i can add to this now #gunblaze #emberlotus #edited 13 jun 2023 #the only thing i added was tah fic everything else is still my ugly original post

[joannasteez]

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

#mayans mc #ez reyes #angel reyes #jax teller x reader #soa #jax teller #long headcanon #joannasteez #reyes!reader #jax teller x reyes!reader

[takuyakistall]

tuna | anniversary special

Synopsis: A normal day in Yuu's new life in NRC but, somehow, today made them feel a little bit nostalgic.

Notes: I wanted to write something for Twisted Wonderland's anniversary! This game really means so much to me and I don't think I would've picked up writing again if I didn't stumble upon it. Something about Grim and Yuu's relationship makes me emotional and the fact that Grim got a new card in the game didn't help me cope at all. I ended up writing this fic as a result, this is just purely fluff! (I think) I hope you guys like this.

The smell of charred coal and an oily can of tuna greeted Yuu's nostrils as they stirred awake, grumbling incoherent words as their eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight entering their room through the window. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Had it not been for Grim feasting on his tuna noisily and messily. Yuu sighed as they stood up from their bed and began to arrange it—folding the sheets, dusting the pillows and set them aside neatly. The creaking of the floorboards with each step they took used to unnerve them, afraid that it might give in one day but Yuu learned to get used to it. Though sometimes they can't help but worry for the day when it actually gives in. Maybe they could ask Headmaster Crowley before that happens?

Yuu shook their head and dismissed the thought. The last thing they wanted to hear was Crowley spouting nonsense all over again and then disappearing without a trace. Judging from all the times Crowley has let them down, who's to say that he won't do it again? They pulled out the wooden chair placed by the table and scrunched their face when they saw how Grim was eating.

"You're making a mess everywhere!" Yuu scolded, trying to snatch the tuna can from his hands (paws?) before he could knock the other stuff down on the table. Grim didn't bother refuting as he sat back lazily on the chair, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Mhm... That was delicious~!" Grim let out a merry sigh. The breakfast he'd been used to everyday wasn't something he would look forward to or enjoy. Living in an abandoned dorm meant that no one else was there to cook for them but theirselves and there was no way Yuu was letting the ghosts handle the cooking. As a result, most of their meals were either bland or too little in terms of portions—Crowley wasn't one to ensure these types of things so that's one more thing Yuu adds to the list of 'Why I don't like the Headmaster'.

So when Grim found a can of tuna lying around somewhere, he didn't waste a second to grab the golden opportunity in front of him. Though there was one tiny little problem with what Grim did.

Yuu got that for their breakfast today.

Together.

And much to their misfortune and Grim's doom, the can was empty. Yuu had to pause for a moment to process the sudden discovery—Grim ate all of the tuna. They had to clench their fist tightly so as to not grab the ribbon tied around Grim's neck and shake him like a pepper shaker. Grim was blissfully unaware of the way Yuu was giving him glares that could kill and continued to relish himself in his euphoria. Though that was short-lived when Yuu decided to open their mouth, gentle anger lacing their voice.

"Grim. Did you eat all of the tuna?" They crossed their arms across their chest, a perfect close eyed smile on their face as they tilted their head slightly when they questioned Grim. He froze for a moment, eyes widening and his lips slightly twitching as Yuu furrowed their eyebrows. Clearly, they saw how the sudden realization hit the raccoon-cat (or whatever he was) and how nervous he became. He needs to think of an excuse—fast.

"A-Ah! About this…" Grim started, throwing his paws around in the air, making out incomprehensible gestures. Though before they could hear his explanation, an important thought crossed over Yuu's mind and they felt their blood run cold.

"Hey… Grim. What time is it?" They didn't wait for a reply, feet already scrambling towards their closet as they vigorously looked for a clean uniform. Grim held a confused expression.

"Eh, time? Isn't it…"

"Grim you idiot! We're bloody late!"

"F'nya!! Why didn't ya tell me sooner!?"

"Oh so now it's my fault? You're the one who didn't wake me up!"

"Professor Trein is going to be so mad…"

"Just shut up and start walking!"

Both of them dashed out from Ramshackle, the doorknob at the entrance getting slightly jammed so Yuu had no choice but to break the rickety door down. Not that it was difficult though, burglars could've easily killed them during their sleep—that is, if people even manage to climb a whole mountain to bother stealing from them. They'll just have to explain the door incident to Headmaster Crowley as well later. That is, if they manage to talk to him at all.

But, for now, the only thing stuck in their heads was to run as fast as they can or else it was off with their heads!

“You’re late.” Their teacher, Professor Mozus Trein, spoke in a cold tone. Gingerly stroking his cat’s head as it purred but that didn't give Yuu and Grim any ease at all when they stood there, unmoving, at the classroom entrance. Yuu tried to keep a neutral expression, hands at their side and feet together. Grim, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well with doing the same as Yuu. He had trouble standing straight on two legs so he decided to climb up Yuu’s back to their shoulder and stayed there.

The sudden shift in weight on one of their shoulders made them grimace slightly.

“Good morning, Professor. Please excuse my tardiness, it won’t happen again.” Yuu bowed slightly, hoping that this would all be over quickly and he would let them go to their respective chairs. They straightened their back, looking at Trein directly before he gave them a slight nod and returning his attention to the chalkboard in front.

Yuu and Grim let out a sigh of relief simultaneously as they quickly went to their respective seats with Grim hopping off Yuu’s shoulder. He grabbed a bunch of books from Yuu’s bag to stack them up. Sitting on it since he wasn’t tall enough to see on his own without the desk obstructing his view.

Yuu caught the sight of Ace trying hard to keep in his laughter in the corner of their eye. They wondered for a moment about what Ace could possibly be laughing about until they heard Grim snarl ever so slightly. As if a lightbulb suddenly popped up over Yuu’s head, it suddenly clicked all too well.

He was laughing at them.

Although Yuu didn’t particularly mind being laughed at by that clown, Ace Trappola, Grim didn’t share the same sentiment. They had to hold back Grim’s tail to stop him from throwing a fit during class—it was a good thing Professor Trein had his back turned or else they’d be in bigger trouble.

A few minutes into class and Yuu could already feel their head explode. Coming from a completely different world than Twisted Wonderland, there was no doubt that they were going to have difficulty understanding things from here. While History of Magic was indeed an interesting subject, Yuu couldn’t help but feel the need to pull their hair out when they saw what Professor Trein was writing on the board.

‘Those symbols… am I supposed to know them? This looks more like a summoning circle more than anything, how am I supposed to understand this?’

They slapped their forehead repeatedly and forced theirselves to stare at the board once more—hoping that staring at it for a while would miraculously make them understand whatever that is. Grim, on the other hand, looked like he was boding well—looking so studious and listening attentively. But the moment he picked up a pen, that’s when the image was ruined. Yuu had to stifle their laughter when they saw him struggle to write on paper.

While it was a bit mean to laugh at him, Yuu couldn’t deny the fact that the drastic change was hilarious.

“Yuu, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Professor Trein suddenly called out their name. Their back straightened and their gaze immediately snapped to the teacher in front. It seems like the Professor was paying more attention to Yuu.

Someone in the classroom let out a snort. Small, but audible for it to be heard by everyone in the dead silent classroom.

“Ace Trappola, do you have something to say as well?”

Ace stood up almost immediately.

“N-Nothing, Professor!”

Yuu was a tiny bit glad that Ace slipped up. At least they won’t be alone when Professor Trein decides to punish them. They shot a mischievous look at Ace, sticking their tongue out that screams: Serves you right!

“Dismissed.” With one single word from Trein, the class burst into a series of relieved sighs and yawns—a few ones groaning here and there but they were eventually glared at by the Professor and his poofy cat. Ace sluggishly walked towards Yuu and Grim with Deuce, who looked as fresh as ever, following behind.

“Hey, did you get everything Professor Trein said? Today’s class was sooo boring.” Ace whined, crossing his arms over his chest as he asked his three friends.

“Nope.” Yuu answered truthfully as they put back their pen into their case.

“Not at all…” Deuce closed his eyes and clutched his forehead.

“Hmph! Of course I did, I even took down notes.” Grim was proud as he puffed out his chest. Ace’s eyes perked up for a moment, wondering if he would let him view his notes until a sudden realization struck him. He wouldn’t be able to decipher Grim’s terrible handwriting in the first place. His expression slowly turned into one of disappointment—something akin to the feeling of finding out your name wasn’t in the Top 50.

Deuce was the first to comment. “These are….. Notes?”

“Grr! What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“It looks like a bunch of scribbles made by a cat.” Yuu added. Grim was about to be fuming mad until his ears drooped down slightly, Yuu felt a pang hit their chest. Could they possibly be feeling bad?

“Well… I’ll give you an A for effort.” Yuu patted Grim’s head, hoping that they didn’t hurt his feelings too much after that comment. Instead of lifting his spirits up, Grim felt like his soul got crushed. He felt like Yuu pitied him more than actual commendation, but he won’t say anything. He’ll take the crumbs of praise he can get.

Ace straightened up and walked towards the exit, dragging his legs slightly as he called out his friends. “Oi! Let’s go have lunch already, I’m starving!”

“Coming!” Deuce replied before promptly poking Yuu’s shoulder to make sure that they heard Ace.

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute to fix all my stuff, you guys can go ahead.” Grim stared at Yuu, wondering who should he go with—Yuu or Ace and Deuce? He was going to accompany the Heartslabyul Duo until he remembered how Yuu didn’t get to eat breakfast because of him.

He felt a little bit bad for leaving them like this.

He opened his mouth to say that he’s going to stay with Yuu until they suddenly cut into his thoughts like a knife into butter.

“Grim, you can go ahead too. Save a seat for me while you’re at it.”

“Are ya sure?” Grim asked them for reassurance.

“...? Are you going to miss me or something?” Yuu teased.

“No way! Nevermind, I’m leaving!”

Yuu watched as the Ace, Deuce, and Grim exited the door before letting their smile drop into a frown. They wondered if today was an okay date to ask the Headmaster about progress on the whole ‘find Yuu a way back home’ thing. But, there was a possibility that their visit to his office will be all for naught. Crowley was someone unpredictable, after all—eccentric is another way to put it nicely.

They tapped their fingers against the desk rhythmically. Dozens of thoughts running inside their head. The chatter outside the classroom cutting their train of thoughts continuously which annoyed them to death but it was something they took comfort in. The nostalgic noises of a bustling school filled with students going on and about.

It reminded them of their homeworld.

Yuu decided to look for Crowley as they stood up from their chair. A nostalgic bitterness lingering in their mouth as they left.

“Why did I think I would find him today?” Yuu asked no one in particular. Eyes glued to the wall clock as they counted the minutes they had left before break ended and classes started again. They silently dwelled on their regret of visiting Crowley’s office, it was nothing but a waste of time. Now they had less than 30 minutes to go into the cafeteria to get some food.

Each step they took was taxing. They put too much force with every one and perhaps that was a result of getting mad at a useless bird—their temper can’t help but explode a little bit. By the time Yuu arrived, they spotted the idiot trio sitting by the window. They had already finished eating long ago but they were still there. A thought popped into their head.

‘Could it be…? They were waiting for me!?’ Yuu knew it was nowhere near the truth but perhaps they can indulge theirself once in a while with these kinds of thoughts. Grim was the first to spot them.

“Where were you!? Break is almost over.” The grumble Yuu’s stomach let out made their cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Maybe it was because they skipped breakfast? Grim felt bad. This was his fault, wasn't it? Ace and Deuce urged Yuu to go buy something to eat but one look at the line formed by the counter, Yuu immediately declined. They’re going to be late for class if they waited!

Grim stared at the small portion of lunch he set aside for himself for later. Much to no one’s surprise, it was fish. He had a debate with himself—asking if he wanted to keep this or offer it to Yuu. In the end, he went for the latter. He nudged Yuu with his paw before holding up the plate with his two paws.

“Have this if you want… Ya didn’t get to eat breakfast because of me, right? I feel kinda bad but here.”

Ace’s eyes were wide in shock and Deuce dropped his yogurt. Yuu was flabbergasted at the sudden nice gesture Grim was showing but-

“Sorry, but I don’t want rabies.”

Grim had to resist the urge to set everything on fire. Yuu had to bite back a laugh when they saw how mad Grim was—denying everything about him having rabies. The troubles they had about Crowley were long gone and replaced by the bubbling happiness growing in their chest. The sight of their friends—Grim, Ace and Deuce—was enough to convince them to forget about it. Even if it’s just for a short while.

The nostalgic taste danced in the tip of their tongue once again. A sudden wave of sadness washing over them as they thought about the day when they’ll eventually go back to their own world.

I’ll miss this. Definitely.

They looked up to see Grim causing a mess with Ace holding him back and Deuce trying to summon another cauldron. Yuu shook their head.

But, for now, let’s focus on the present.

Is it so bad that Yuu wanted the incompetent headmaster to stay incompetent? Just for a little longer, don’t find a way back.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst writing #fanfic #self indulgent takoyaki #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst ace #twst deuce #twisted wonderland ace #twisted wonderland deuce

[dancingwiththeplanets]

An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter two

Boba Fett x fem!reader

     chapter 1 / masterlist

Summary:  A few days after the incident in the throne room, Boba hovers around you like a shadow worried you’ll leave him. You try to reassure him through small, intimate moments with him that there’s no place you’d rather be.

A/N:  Really trying to expand on the idea that a gorgeous palace lays hidden underground/ behind the throne room! Also, I think we can all start calling this Boba’s Palace now, jabba is gone. Sorry for the low quality edit it’s my first one haha

Warnings: dancing!boba, protective!boba, suggestive content, plain old day at the palace, soft!boba, not a lot of content tbh but cute moments and we get to know our OC Mandos Raul and Enzo, I didn’t plan this out, im sorry

Word Count: 4.5k+

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

The ballroom, though practically useless in its existence and never actually having served its purpose, has recently become one of your favorite rooms in the palace. Initially, you didn’t know what to do with the space. It’s not like Boba seized at the idea of throwing a ball and inviting a group of strangers into the palace, providing anyone the opportunity to discover the secrets hidden behind the throne room. Let alone risk letting an adversary sneak their way in and stirring up trouble.

Nonetheless, you’ve taken it upon yourself to spruce the place up. It is, after all, one of the grander rooms in the castle, with paintings coating the ceiling and the walls bordered with columns.

It’s actually extremely beautiful, you’ve decided, wiping your forehead against your light-blue sleeve, frowning when it comes back brown from the dust that’s stuck to your face. It seemed like a sensible thing to wear this morning. A loose fitting blue blouse with flowy pants to match, secured in the middle by a slightly darker sash. Your pant legs were tucked into your boots so as not to get in the way. It was one of the more cozy and plain things you owned, though not poor in quality by any standards. The fabric was refined, flowy and soft against your skin. Quite honestly, even in your working clothes, you looked nicer than you felt you deserved to. But far be it for Boba to allow his princess to wander around in anything but the best.

The week you’d moved in was a busy one, filled with surprises and adjustments that were quite honestly overwhelming. You arrived at Boba’s palace with a literal sack over your shoulder, enough to stash your small wardrobe of two garments and a few trinkets of personal value. Tatooine was a simple place, you only owned what you absolutely needed. And you, being a young and simple waitress at the local cantina, could barely make enough to cover your cost of living. You were never awarded the luxury of having needless objects.

The first few days of your arrival, Boba had stuck to your side like glue, making sure you got around okay and had everything you needed. Initially, he’d even had a seperate room made up for you to stay in. It was absolutely beautiful, by far the lightest room in the entire palace, though lacking in a window. It was one of the biggest, not as impressive as his own chambers, but still spacious. He decorated the room with paintings and furniture and accented the space with hues of blue and gold. Unfortunately, the pretty room barely got any good use out of it.

Boba escorted you to your quarters on your first night, cradling your chin and kissing your forehead at the door, bidding you goodnight. He reminded you where you could find something to sleep in, having delighted himself in surprising you with an entirely new wardrobe.

You pulled on a satin, lavender slip, admiring the foreign material for a long while as it weighed so delicately on your form. You took your time readying yourself for bed before crawling in and feeling engulfed by pillows. Once you settled, left alone to your anxious thoughts and feelings, you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the exquisite room embracing you. A flutter of giddiness and exhilaration filled you, your mind and body enraptured by the day's events. You felt absolutely spoiled.

Feeling bold on an entirely unnatural level, you slipped away from the warm, velvety comforter and tiptoed to the door. With a rush of courage, your hand met the handle and you stepped out, bare feet cold against the tile floor. You peeked around before quickly darting down the hall, forever grateful that not a soul was around to see your practically naked form running by, before ascending the stairs that led to Boba’s door.

You lifted your hand, your knuckle knocking gently three times against the rough surface.

You heard Boba shifting on the other side of the door, tugging down on your nightgown that just barely cleared your thighs. The hinges of the door creaked as they turned, opening slowly to reveal a very smug looking Boba in just his underclothes.

He hummed, eyes tracing over your form with a shake of his head. “Wandering the halls looking like that.” He chided, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you through the door, “That’ll get you into trouble, little one.”

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

You smile as you recall the memory. Suffice to say, you didn’t end up sleeping in your own quarters that night, or any night after that, for that matter. Though Boba’s honorable gesture in providing you with your own space was not lost on you.

Continuing on with your endeavors, you move to stand from your crouch on the ground, simultaneously trying to tighten the blue sash wrapped around your middle. You gasp as you run into a hard surface, exhaling in relief as Boba braces you in front of him.

Mumbling an apology, you watch as his helmeted face looks you up and down, steady hands holding you out from him.

“What?” You ask, a smile making its way to your cheeks.

“Your outfit, it...looks like something I wore as I boy.” He says adoringly, now fondling the blue sash at your hips.

You glance down again at your form, a matching blue blouse and trousers tucked into simple black boots. “I...look like you as a young boy?” You counter, earning a deep chuckle from your lover.

“Well I looked rather plain in it,” He says, “I don’t think I looked half as radiant as you do.”

“So you do like it?” You ask.

“Of course I like it,” He grins, “I bought it.”

You shake your head as you carry on with your tasks, allowing Boba to shadow your movements for a while before leaving you again to carry on with his own agenda.

You spend the next few hours actively scrubbing away at the room, feeling especially motivated to complete it, not like all the other half-finished rooms scattered about the palace, which is partly your fault. But the ballroom felt different, once you dusted away all the grime and filth and replaced the lighting in the ceilings to give the room more life, it really started to come together. Unfortunately, your previously clean clothes and skin were paying the price for the hard work being done, you definitely looked a little worse for wear. Wisps of hair beginning to tickle your cheeks from where they’d fallen loose from your braid.

Currently, you were taking extra care to polish a beautiful mosaic decorating the inside of an archway. Thousands of small, colorful shards lined neatly together to form the image of a bold Tatooine sunset. One of the few grand beauties your home planet was known for. A surprisingly lovely work of art left behind, albeit not properly cared for, by the previous inhabitants of the palace.

You admire the artwork for a while after polishing it to near perfection, letting your bum fall to the floor and legs splay out comfortably in front of you. Your wrists support your upper body, arms holding you up as you lean back onto them, head tilting lazily to one side.

You find yourself distracted from your glossed over gaze by Boba, who seems to have wandered his way in here for the third time today. Enzo tails him a few paces behind, but stops to stand guard idly by the door. You can’t imagine he or Raul feel as though they serve any real purpose wandering these empty halls, probably much preferring when they get to patrol the throne room or secure the perimeter.  

Boba approaches you, pausing over your fatigued form and huffing out a laugh when you don’t move to stand, instead opting to gaze up at him with tired, doe eyes. He holds a hand out to you and you groan, placing your palm in his as he hoists you up.

“The room looks lovely.” He says, voice raspy through the modulator as he looks around.

The praise makes you smile. “Come see what I found,” You say, leading him by the hand. You open a large dresser to the right, stuffed full of old vinyls and a polished record player sitting proudly atop. You carefully choose a record, placing it beneath the needle and starting the track, allowing it to play soothingly in the background as you guide him around the rest of the room.

He follows you around, listening to you babble about the lovely art on the ceiling and how nice the light looks coming through the one, boxy window at the top. He watches the childlike sparkle and admiration in your eyes as you point out different things you’ve noticed, the excitement trickling out in your tone.

His mind contemplates how different this life is from the one you used to have. You went from a one room, compact home, just barely big enough for your small bed, to a palace filled with grand staircases, hallways and countless bedrooms, a blissful dream in your eyes. Nevermind the fact that you were still stuck on Tatooine. In fact, you seemed happy to stay, oddly attached to the sandy planet, something Boba found amusing.

A couple trips around the room later, and a few songs having gone by, the two of you now stand in the center of the empty room. Him, groaning in protest, and you, placing his hand on your waist yet again. You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to teach him a basic waltz, something your father had taught you when you were little. A rare memory you shared with him before he...well-  

“Boba,” You scold with a giggle, “Try again.” Your request earns you another frustrated grumble from your partner. At some point you were able to coerce him into dancing with you, having pleaded desperately when your favorite classic came on. “C’mon, you nearly had it that time!”

He sighs loudly, tilting his helmet in an exasperated fashion. “Last time,” He says with finality, his finger raised in your direction.

You nod your head, an amused grin spread wide on your face.

He holds tight to your waist and reaches for your other hand, a final effort to humor you.

“And...1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3..” You begin moving again to the music, trying to swallow the snicker working its way up at the image of your armored partner staring at your feet for guidance. Visor following your every move, looking unsure and sloppy and quite honestly graceless.

You jump at the voice of a forgotten presence in the room.

“No! No, no, no, boss.” Enzo finally pipes up, his silent and judgemental self unable to be contained any longer. He moves forward with a swagger in his step as he struts towards you from his previous position against the wall, “You’ve gotta lead her by the waist,” He says pointedly, reaching for you “Observe-”

Boba’s arm shoots out, blocking Enzo by the pauldron, “You touch her, you're a dead man.” He growls, deflecting his attempt to take you by the waist.

You jerk slightly at the interaction, rolling your eyes and waiting for the show of dominance to subside.

Enzo’s hands raise in surrender, bowing away respectfully before returning to his earlier stance, no doubt a grin slapped on beneath his visor.

Boba’s hand returns to your waist with a shake of his head, noting your half-suppressed chuckle, evidently amused by the encounter.  

“Alright,” He grunts, “once more.”

You start counting aloud, moving at a pace Boba can keep up with. You step out on the final eight count and slowly twirl back into his arms, your back now braced against his front. He tugs at your hips, holding you closer, “Mm,” He hums in your ear as you sway in your position, “Well I do like this.”

The sound of his accented voice filtering through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and you breathe out a light exhale as he releases you a moment later, turning you to face him.

“See,” You sigh, “You can dance.”

He hums in response, turning around to retrieve his weapon.

You move to face your hired gun, again leaning casually against the entryway.

“Do you actually know how to dance, Enzo?” You ask, reflecting on his earlier attempt at an intervention.

“-Wouldn’t matter if he did.” Boba interjects loudly over his shoulder, dismissing any ideas before they transpired.

You hear a light chuckle emitting through Enzo’s modulator, turning back to see his stance remaining motionless aside from the slight jerk in his shoulders.

Boba returns to your side, tapping his forehead against yours in an obvious farewell.

Your head falls heavily to one side as you tenderly hold one of his gloved hands, fingers tracing the rough fabric of his own. “Is that all the time you’ve allotted for me today, my king?” You say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” He replies, “But perhaps I’ll come find you in a bit, see what further progress you’ve made.”

You nod, a slight frown tugging on your lips. You hesitate raising the concern suddenly weighing in your mind.

Ever since the incident with Crane occurred, Boba’s been...watchful. It’s not that he wasn’t protective of you before, it’s just that in the past few days he’s been protective of you in an entirely different way. He’s been hovering and checking in on you almost compulsively. Whereas before he seemed to want to keep you away during the busy hours of his day, now he seemed to want you near enough to reach in a moment's notice. Almost as if he’s worried you’ll abandon him when he’s not looking.

You wonder how he can still feel so worried after sharing such a fun and intimate moment with you.

So, you’ve given him some extra leeway, allowing him to hover to his heart's content until he seems secure in knowing that you’re not going anywhere.

That being said, you really didn’t mind Boba’s loitering close by to wherever you happened to be, you only wish you knew he wasn’t doing it because of the events that conspired earlier in the week.

“Boba,” You say lightly, catching his arm as he turns. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me, I’m not...you know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

He pauses at your words, hands stilling in their endeavor to tighten up loosened pieces of clothing and armor. You hope you haven't upset him in calling out his unusual conduct.

He averts his gaze to the side, pausing a moment before turning back to you. “I know.” He says nodding, a slight hint of defeat in his tone.

You hope perhaps some flattery will comfort him, stepping closer and lifting your gaze to meet his own. “My king,” you say in admiration, “You are a very busy man. You have a planet to rule. And an underworld to dominate. There are many things that I know put strain and worry in your mind, but whether or not your partner will still be here when you go looking for her should not be one of them.”

He doesn’t make any movements, and the face of his visor does little to allow you access to his thoughts.

“What I mean to say is,” You continue, “Go rule your empire. Your princess is safely stashed away in the palace you’ve encompassed her in.”

He breathes out a chuckle, and you smile, “I am happier here with you than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t want to be anywhere you won't be too, Boba Fett.” You reiterate your words from your conversation a few days ago. One that both started and ended with the two of you in tears. A rare moment between the two of you indeed. An exceedingly painful incident for him, having showcased the true depth of his love for you in such an unexpected and vulnerable way. And for you, to have seen the strongest and most fearless man you have ever known brought down to his knees, in tears, was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially in knowing that his own insecurities about your love had driven him to feel such fear.

You squeeze his arm and kiss the cheek of his helmet in valediction. His unmoving visor lingering on your face for an extended moment.  

Boba’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you forward slightly before gently meeting you in the middle with his own helmet. Your foreheads pressed together in an intimate and tender kiss.

He pulls away silently, giving you a nod, a gesture you return with a small smile before watching him exit the room, Enzo in tow.

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

You make your way to the kitchens, stomach growling unhappily at having been neglected all afternoon. 

You pause under the doorway.

“I’ve seen you far too much today,” You sigh, feigning exasperation at the sight of Enzo shifting through the pantry for a meal to take to his room.

He stops his digging, turning to face you standing under the doorway before spinning back around.

“Vod’ika,” He greets, “Soup?” He holds a can up over his shoulder while reaching for a pot below the stove.

“No, thanks.” You say, approaching his station.

You pick up the canister of tomato soup, looking it over. “I doubt this tiny thing is even enough for just you.”

He glances down at the can in your hand. “I’ll do two then.”

You roll your eyes, what is it with these massive Mandalorians and not understanding proper nourishment?

“No, no.” You chide, “At least attempt to incorporate a healthy balance into your diet. Something with protein, maybe? Make a grilled porg-and-cheese melt to go with the soup. You can dip it in the broth, it’s delicious.”

His teal visor meets your face, shifting in uncertainty. “Can you do it?”

You sigh, “Fine.”

You get out the sandwich makings, opting to make one for yourself as well. You smear the bantha butter along four pieces of bread and grill them on a pan, layering sliced porg and cheese slices afterward.

You hear footsteps approaching the kitchen just as you’re pulling the finished sandwiches off the stove.

“Raul!” You greet with a smile, Enzo’s head whips in your direction. “We’re making sandwiches, want one?”

“You never sound that excited to see me.” Enzo declares.

You giggle at the accusation, sliding his sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Can I make you one, Raul?” You repeat.

He sighs, “No kid, thank you.” He steps forward and pulls Enzo’s plate from his hands, placing it away from him on the counter.

“Aye!” Enzo protests, wanting to transport his hot meal to his room so he could eat.

“We work for her,” Raul says, articulating the ‘we’ with an exaggerated hand gesture between the two of them. “You should be making her sandwich, not the other way around.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You groan, looking between the pair of Mandalorians.

“Yeah, Raul,” Enzo mocks, a slightly more threatening air to his tone. He retrieves the stolen soup and sandwich, “Don’t be a di’kut.”

Raul’s helmet tilts slightly at Enzo’s words. Not knowing exactly what the word means, but starting to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach, you attempt to intervene, “Guys-”

Just a moment too late.

Raul clamps a hand on Enzo’s arm, jolting him back from trying to pass him. His hand smacks the plate out of Enzo’s hand, the glass shattering before it even reaches the floor, and the soup and sandwich splattering everywhere.

“I made that-” You frown.

Now with two free hands, Enzo grips Raul’s shoulders and shoves him back against the brick ovens, a rough grunt escaping Raul when his helmet meets the open face of a hanging pan.

“Please stop-” You yelp, wincing as Enzo’s fist uppercuts into the weak spot under Raul’s helmet.

For being half a head shorter and not as obviously built as his opponent, the Mandalorian in black and teal armor could sure hold his own.

Raul spits something out in mando’a, his words seething as he grabs onto the cuff of the smaller Mandalorians neck covering and throws him with little exertion to the floor. You hear the crunching of glass beneath Raul’s boots as he growls with a foot on pressing to Enzo’s chest in an effort to force him into submission.

“-I wish you guys wouldn’t always do this.” You sigh, not bothering to shout anymore over the sound of beskar scraping against beskar.

You slide from your seat, taking your sandwich with you as you circle around the room to avoid becoming collateral damage in the red Mandalorian’s show of dominance.

“I have never witnessed two people fight over something so stupid in my life!” You call out behind you, tearing a piece of your sandwich off and popping it into your mouth. Leaving the sound of metal crashing against stone behind you.

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

You sigh when you finally reach your room, ascending the steps inside your chambers to reach the bedroom. You’re about to sit down on the bed when you catch sight of your reflection, covered in dust patches and knee stains from when you scrubbed against the floor.  You opt to take a quick shower instead, washing out all the grime gathered in your hair and skin.

It takes a couple minutes of harsh scrubbing for the water to stop running off your body brown. You take extra care to wash behind your ears and around your hairline, where dirt likes to plant itself firmly.

You turn the water off when the last few soap suds slide off your hair, wrapping yourself in a warm towel.

Taking a glance out the window, you note that the suns are already setting low on the horizon, and resign yourself to just staying in for the rest of the night.

You pull on a slip dress and wrap yourself in Boba’s robe, inhaling his comforting, musky scent. You reach for your book on the nightstand before lighting a couple of candles around the space, creating a warm and cozy environment.  

Satisfied with the aesthetic you set around you, you plop down on your bed and hope to get a few chapters into your novel before Boba gets home. Admittedly getting distracted a couple times by the stunning, shaded view out your window, exposing you to the last few moments of the captivating sunset.  

Boba comes home a little over an hour later, the glow in your chambers now reduced to only a few lamps and the candlelight spread about your room, but enough to alert Boba of your presence.

You hear his heavy armored footsteps trudging up towards the bedroom. You turn your head expectantly when he reaches the top. Helmet in hand, he pauses for a moment upon seeing you, admiring the image of your figure wrapped up in his robe and curled up with a book, before stepping forward and greeting you with a kiss.

He pulls back, gaze immediately flickering to the window, probably having noticed it immediately upon entering the room but choosing to greet you before acknowledging it.

You groan internally, knowing what's coming.

“Mesh’la,” He hums, frowning at the open curtains exposing you to the darkness of the Tatooine night. A few dim lights from Mos Eisley shining in the distance. He steps forward to slide the curtains closed, you don’t complain, only having wanted them open for sunset. “What have I told you, little one? It's not safe to have these open.”

“I only just opened them, Boba.” You fib a little, hoping to reassure him.

He nods, unconvinced, before beginning to strip himself of his armor. You observe him unlatch the beskar piece-by-piece, placing the armor neatly in its designated chest.

He groans loudly when he sinks down beside you, arms raising behind his head.

You giggle at his tired show of soreness, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. “Old man,” You mutter.

“Watch it.” He growls lowly. You glance a peek at him, eyes closed heavily against his cheeks.

You ponder your bravery for a moment, sticking your nose back in your book before impulsively whispering, “Relic.” You shriek, bursting into a fit of laughter as he suddenly reaches over and wrestles the book out of your hands, using it to plant a harsh smack on your behind.

“Boba Fett!” You squeal, hands moving to shield your bum as the vibrations from his deep laugh shake the bed.

Still holding the book up in a threatening manner, a childlike gleam in his eyes, he challenges you, “Apologize.”

You consider tossing another remark out, eyes darting to the book in his hand, before deciding against it tonight.

Instead, you hoist yourself up onto your knees, allowing his robe to slowly slide down your form and meet the duvet, revealing the thin slip below. His closed-lip smile increases a little, eyes tracing down your form, book lowering slightly in the space above where he lay.

You crawl forward until your chest hovers above him, noses nearly touching, “My apologies, my king.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He deepens the kiss with a groan, your hand reaching back to grip your novel, which he allows you to slip from his fingers.

You let him attack you lips for another moment before you pull away. Having gotten what you wanted, you shift back to your side of the bed, turning to the page you left off at.

A deep chuckle rumbles out from Boba’s chest. “Alright, little one.” He says, “I'll let you play your game.”

He turns the light out on his side of the bed, pulling the blankets out and over the two of you before moving to embrace your form, leaning close to whisper in your ear, “-this time.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you try to resist the smile tugging at your lips, though you feel his own brushing against your ear in satisfaction.

“Tomorrow,” He says, shifting a little above you, “I’m heading into Mos Eisley with Fennec.

“What for?” You ask, finally marking your page and setting it aside.

“Nothing,” He grumbles, “I need to put on a little show of...authority, for a few people.”

You hum, “No big deal?” You question.

“Just a local inconvenience.” He gripes.

You nod slightly, not requiring any elaboration. You suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself tomorrow. “Well then, maybe I’ll have Raul teach me how to wield a dagger,” You quip, a grin back on your face.

Boba huffs out an amused puff of air, “I’d much prefer you with a blaster.” He says, apparently taking the idea seriously, “You don’t need to be up close to use it.”

“We’ll see then,” You say, standing to turn out the rest of the lights.

A single lit candle from your bedside table casts a warm glow over Boba’s face, eyes closed and head still leaning back against your bed-frame pillow.

“Get back on your side,” You chuckle, nudging him as you crawl back into your space.

“M’fine here.” He mumbles, leaning further over onto your pillow.

You smile, his body encasing yours and his nose presses into your neck.

“I’ll be fine here too you know.” You mutter, referencing the day you’ll be spending without his guard. 

“You finally gonna stop worrying about me?” You tease, having received no response.

He shakes his head, snuggling deeper into your neck, “Never.”

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

A/N pt.2:  So I wrote this and I thought it was great then I read it back a few times and realized literally nothing happened haha im so sorry 😅😅😅

Literally spent too many hours on this not to upload though so I suppose here’s a filler chapter my bad lots of love 🥰

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #boba!palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader #boba's palace

[megarabane]

study in gold [the hopes]

[photo taken from Google Images, Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V]

[the hopes] [of the world] coalesce [into a single star]

Words: 1806

Summary: Crow is having a hard time settling into their new norm; between living in the city for the first time, and living with his brothers again, he's pretty far out of his depth.

-

Crow thrust his receipt under the nose of the Sector Security officer who was busy skimming a newspaper. He looked up at the intrusion.

"What?" he asked.

"You dogs always ask to check it," he retorted, gesturing back at the cart he had one hand on, laden with groceries. "Do it so I can get on my way."

Bored eyes looked him slowly down and back up. Without another word, the officer set his newspaper down, took the receipt, and glanced it over as he moved toward the cart. Crow crossed his arms, leaned against the stand, and watched.

He'd already stuffed his unruly hair back into his white work helmet, goggles around his neck and visor sheathed. His Blackbird Delivery jacket hung open over his tank top. He glanced out the front door to the grocery store, to where he could see Blackbird parked in one of the closest spots to the front.

As the automatic door slid closed on the tail of a guest entering, he caught sight of his reflection, and the markers his helmet did nothing to hide. He looked away.

They'd been in the city for less than two months, and Crow had established his delivery service the month before. It was already a smashing success, although it had gotten off to a rocky start - the amount of people with a tendency to slam doors in the face of anyone marked was staggering. Not that he'd been too surprised - Jack and Yusei had warned him - but it had been frustrating all the same.

"These aren't on here," the guard said, lifting a bag of apples from the cart.

"Check at the bottom - coupon made 'em free," Crow replied.

The first time he'd come grocery shopping had been with Jack and Yusei, and aside from a few sideways glances, they'd been left undisturbed. The first time Crow came alone, he'd been stopped by three separate employees as he reached into his pockets for his phone or wallet. Then, after he'd gone through all the trouble to pay and have someone else bag their stupid food, he'd been halted at the door by two Sector Security guards who demanded to see his receipt and check his cart, "to ensure everything was in order".

To ensure you're not stealing, is what they didn't say, but Crow knew just as well as they did.

He blinked slowly, watching the Sector officer paw through a larger bag, containing that week's vegetables. You'd think if I was stealing, I wouldn't have demanded you check it. Can't we just get on with it?

He didn't tell Jack or Yusei, though. He knew Jack would throw a hissy-fit about the guards "violating their privacy", and Yusei wouldn't say anything to his face but he would quietly insist on doing all the shopping for them from then on, in his own round-about way to make Crow feel better.

Ain't shit gonna make me feel better until I stop getting eyed every time I walk into a gas station.

"Everything seems to be in order." The officer folded the receipt in half and handed it back to Crow, almost a direct quote from the sour thoughts in his brain. It only served to heighten his frustration. "Have a good evening."

"You too," he replied, not meaning it as he shoved his cart ahead of him. The worker standing at the front door silently watched him roll away, and he fought the urge to tuck his chin. I don't care how they make anyone else feel. Not like I can do a thing about it, anyway.

He managed to load the groceries into Blackbird's storage without incident, and left the cart in the corral before he kicked his D-Wheel to life.

Damned city.

...

Crow arrived back at the garage just past dusk to find the main door wide open, with golden light pouring onto the cobblestones.

"Yusei, you're letting the air out," he groaned. "We're not paying to cool the whole block."

He rolled Blackbird into its spot next to Wheel of Fortune, then took off his helmet, casting around for the dark-haired boy. "Yuse?" he called, standing up - and froze with a hand over his mouth as he caught sight of a figure reclined on the hard floor, one hand behind his head, sound asleep. He stood extremely still, worried his noise had woken him, but only the slow rise and fall of Yusei's chest showed he was alive at all, lips slightly parted as he breathed.

Slowly relaxing, Crow exhaled and set his helmet on the table. "You're going to catch something," he scolded under his breath, shrugging his jacket off. "If we can't afford to run the cold air then how are we going to afford doctor bills, huh?" He very carefully laid the soft-shell jacket over Yusei's prone form, wishing not for the first time that he wasn't the smallest of the three of them. "Smartass." Yusei didn't even stir, although behind his closed lids Crow could see his eyes darting.

He's dumb if he thinks we don't know he's still having nightmares.

Even satisfied that he was completely out, Crow still lowered the garage door very slowly, cushioning it with the toe of his boot to ensure it rattled as little as possible as it settled into place.

He moved the cot down here, for God's sake. Could have at least tried to make it somewhere that wasn't the floor.

He popped the seat on Blackbird up, gathering the groceries in both hands, and began the burdened trudge up the stairs. He was out of breath by the time he reached the top, and set the bags on the floor in front of the fridge with a tight exhale.

The ladder to the third floor creaked, and Jack landed on the ground with a grunt, sporting sweatpants and a t-shirt. "Yusei still asleep?"

"Yeah. How long's it been?" Crow asked, fishing an entire box of cup noodles out of a plastic bag.

Jack held out his hands for them, which Crow obliged. "Since I got home, so at least an hour."

"Since you got home?" Crow echoed, pausing with more food in his hands. "Thought Wheel of Fortune was out of commission."

"Took a walk." Jack ducked around behind him. "Yusei was out when I got back."

"His back is going to hurt."

"Do you want to wake him up?"

Neither of them did, really. Crow knelt in front of the fridge to avoid replying, tucking vegetables into their respective drawers. Jack set the box of noodles at the top of the stairs.

"How long you think it's been?" Crow asked into the silence.

"Since what?"

"Since he's slept soundly."

Jack didn't reply right away, moving toward the window. He twitched the curtains back, letting white street light pour in. Crow pushed a carton of milk back to make room for the egg carton in his hand.

"How long has it been since any of us have slept soundly?"

And there it was. The elephant that all three of them could see all the time, but couldn't bear to mention out loud. It was just easier to move past it, pretend it wasn't taking up the space in the kitchen where a table should go. Yusei was just the first to crack the silence open like the eggs Crow's hand lingered on. Although Crow hadn't run into his room that night like Jack had, he'd stood in his doorway, grip white on the frame and the knob, holding his breath while listening to the two of them talk, staring at Jack's shoulders. Crow hadn't prayed for dawn for years, but that night, he did.

Crow shut the fridge, although he didn't stand. He wrapped his arms around his calves, hands hooked together. Jack leaned his shoulder against the wall.

Things aren't the same, and sometimes I can't tell if it's for better or for worse.

Pearson, at the time, had been talking about Bolger's sudden personality shift, the way he seemingly overnight became another person, cold and withdrawn. It was one of the very few - and absolutely the last of any - serious conversations Pearson had initiated with Crow before the structure fire. They'd talked plenty, sure, but it was almost always thirteen-year-old Crow venting his problems and then Pearson talking him down from his aggravated high.

Crow set his chin against his knees. He thought of the kids, probably preparing for bed after eating Martha's dinner, and his heart ached for home.

But this is home, now, too.

And it was, but there was a certain connection you made with a place when you grew up there, especially when the circumstances were as direly unique as his, Jack's, and Yusei's in the Satellite, or what the Satellite used to be. That was gone, too, and good riddance, Crow had said, spitting onto the cracked blacktop when Jack and Yusei's backs were turned, but it still hurt him to do so. Hate it or not, the slummy streets of that nightmare had been home. It was a hellscape, but it was his hellscape.

Things were, to put it quite mildly, rough, but Crow knew what Satellite was like. He knew what to expect from dawn, he knew where he could hide and where he should avoid, and he knew what would happen if Sector got their hands on him. The city didn't just feel new, it felt alien, like learning how to live all over again, where things were strange and uncertain, and he hadn't chosen it, but he was here anyway, and he knew nothing. The only thing he had in common with the aliens were their language, and as far as Crow knew growing up, that was different too.

The only constants he'd ever had were his brothers, and they'd really rocked his world when they showed, without hesitating, that they didn't need him. That was fine, he told himself for years, I don't need them either.

And yet...

He moved his cheek where his chin was and looked at Jack, long shadow pulled over the floor, standing with his arms crossed in the window light.

And yet.

"I'm going to sleep downstairs," Crow finally said. "It's cooler than my room."

"Best unpack the spare cot, then," Jack replied without turning. "I already called dibs on the one Yusei set up."

"Do you know where it is?" he asked, very unwilling to engage in banter.

"Think it's still in my room," Jack answered, completely non-combative. "I'll find it. Go shower and change."

Crow slowly rose to his feet, stretching as he moved. "You have a spare - ?"

"Already took a blanket downstairs. Least he can do is not get sick."

Crow nodded, cupping a hand around the back of his neck. "A'ight. I'll meet you downstairs."

"Mm."

#megara.txt #coalesce #yugioh 5ds #ygo #yugioh #ygo 5ds #5ds #crow #crow hogan #character study #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #writing #writeblr #writer #writers #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writerblr #writers of tumblr

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

#writings and such #thought you’d get me with a thirst post WELL I JUST THREW DOWN AN UNO REVERSE CARD BAYBEEEEE #‘he’s looking at you’ YOU TRYNA MAKE ME BLUSH CUZ ITS WORKIN OKAY??? #fun fact: the second one was inspired by MULTIPLE real-life events #can’t wait to wake up tomorrow morning and regret this <3

[youarejesting]

The Bomb

[Masterlist]

Beta: @juniethebug​ Rating: 16+  Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: Mafia, enemies2lovers.  Trigger Warnings: mentions of Violence, Gore, Torture, Drinking and wetting yourself in public from fear and a full bladder during a gun fight. Character death. Words: 9.4k

Summary: The leader of a mafia should be calm collected and poised. He should live meticulously and know what he needs to do. Namjoon was that man, he had rules that kept his business running smoothly and nothing can get in the way of that. Can it?

[Part 2]

Kim Namjoon, the leader of the biggest mafia in Seoul, lived his life by many rules. His first rule, a man should only cry three times in his life. The first time is when a man loses his mother, the one who raises a man to be who they are worth mourning. 

The second when a man marries the love of his life and he shall weep tears of joy. The third and final time a man is allowed to cry is when he sees his first child born.

Pathetically sobbing against the dirty concrete while getting the life beaten out of you is not one of those three incidences. “I will ask you again, where is the payment I was promised?”

“He gave it to his daughter, used the money he was supposed to pay you, on his daughter; a beautiful emerald necklace. Something about it being her birthday and wanting to gift her with something as pretty as she is.” Yoongi scoffed, spinning the knife around his fingers a habit he had developed to keep his dexterous fingers busy.“Or at least that is what Hobi had to say after tailing the man all day. Just take the necklace from her pretty little neck; she doesn’t have to come with it.”

“The birthday party is tonight, a lavish affair for their daughter, every man, woman, and child from rich backgrounds were invited to the ball held at their Manor.” Jimin sighed, rolling some scotch in his glass.

“Be ready to leave in ten minutes.” Namjoon walked to the door, Jungkook opening it for him. A reminder of rule number fourteen; a powerful man never moves unnecessarily, which includes opening doors and stepping aside from someone.

Pulling on a black on black suit he fastened his Platinum Rolex to his wrist, in his classiest polished pair of dress shoes. Walking towards the front door, he stopped by the front door and Yoongi pulled open the suitcase, graced with the sight of two pistols both with a shiny custom nickel finish with gold filigree on the handle and barrel.

These were gifted to him by Taehyung, a man with an eye for the finest of arts. Just like the weapons he provided he was a beautiful young man with an innocent face. But he was a dangerous man and rule number ten. Never give the man who provides you with your weapons the chance to provide them for anyone else. Of course, naturally, that meant Namjoon hired him in an instant, not willing to let his enemies use his weapons dealer.

The boys were heading to the car; Seokjin was going to drive as he was the most sensible behind the wheel. Each piling in Namjoon looked at his watch and over the five individuals in the car.

“Should I tell Jimin to hurry up?” Taehyung said reaching for his phone, he was in the middle of texting when Namjoon placed his hand on the phone pushing it to his lap. 

“No need we leave without him, he knows the rules-”

“Rule number fifteen, a man is never late,” Jungkook nodded; he lived by Namjoon’s word and his rules. Knew them better than Namjoon did himself, wrote them down, and numbered them as the leader taught him each one.

The car door was shut by Seokjin who situated himself into the driver's seat and pulled away from the house. House may be a bit of an understatement even Namjoon thought so, officially titled the Kim Manor with four stories complete with east and west wings, staff quarters, elaborate gardens, and land. 

It was the picturesque home with lavish rooms headed to the front gates, a motorbike raced past and pulled up. Jimin climbed into the car with the others, grumbling about how the wind destroyed his hair. 

He ran his fingers through his hair trying to return it to its former perfection, once the gates spread open they headed on their way to the party. 

Each stepping out at the foot of the manor, fixing their hair and suits one last time before heading up the steps. “Your invitation, sir?”

Yoongi pulled out a gun and tapped it against the clipboard pushing it down so he could read it. “That's us there unchecked, sorry we are late, traffic is horrible at this time of the day,” the man swallowed thickly. 

“Of course Mr. and Mrs. Le pomme, you don’t look French?”

“It’s Ms. Actually,” Yoongi poked the man's chest with his gun. 

Namjoon turned speaking immaculate French to the young man and patted his shoulder. “Jungkook always learns a language, a man should never miss an opportunity to learn new things.”

Jungkook was writing the new rule down following behind them, Yoongi pushed the gun into his waistband and the group entered the manor. Walking the floor as a small unit they began analyzing the ballroom. 

Jimin had disappeared and Jungkook smiled gesturing to the young woman who was mingling a beautiful emerald necklace delicately nestled against her decolletage. Namjoon looked her over. She was stunning with her smooth skin and gentle curls. 

She was nothing like he expected, Namjoon thought she would have a dark tan and bleach blonde hair, with extensions and the latest trending nails and jewelry and shoes. 

But this woman. This gorgeous woman had pale skin with sun-kissed freckles, her lips were a soft velvety crimson. She wore a simple black dress but somehow managed to still be the most beautiful person in the room. He could gaze at her forever and never get tired.

You smiled feeling proud of your outfit, it was such an elegant and complicated piece, a sweetheart bodice with off the shoulder lace straps it was a thin and long dress that fell to your ankles showing off a pair of thin heels. 

It wasn’t a famous brand designer, no, you made this yourself there were many little fun hidden details. You were speaking with your friends when he approached. 

He was handsome, his profile was strong one you would remember easily he had a small scar on his eyebrow but it added so much character to his image. 

“Ladies,” he greeted the small group with a short bow, his eyes flicking up and meeting yours full of confidence and you gave a small friendly smile back. 

“Shall we dance?” He asked, and you, never to be overdone, agreed. You had never been asked to dance before. Especially not by someone this handsome.

“My name is y/n. You?”

“You may call me Namjoon,” he smiled and you blushed, looking at his dimples, he was so charming and cute. But there was something about him he took the lead and guided you through a slow waltz. Something you couldn’t put a nail on. Something… sinister..?

You gasped clutching his bicep gently. He saw the emerald necklace secure around your delicate neck. Your breasts strained against your dress with every breath. 

“You seem to be out of breath miss y/n?” His fingertips brushing gently across your décolletage. He too was breathing heavily from the physical activity of dancing. 

“A testament to your dance skills,” you tried to laugh back. 

“Perhaps we should get something to drink,” he took your hand and weaved it so your arm wrapped around his, “we can chat while you relax but I do apologize for being too enthusiastic.” 

“No, really, it is okay,” you protested, not wanting to seem too affected honestly it was embarrassing to get tired after one vigorous dance. 

“Indulge me,” Namjoon’s raspy voice reverberated so low you could have almost mistaken it for a purr, “I would very much like to steal a few extra moments with you” 

“Well then, I shan’t protest,” you gestured towards the refreshment table where he handed you a champagne flute. The two of you drank slowly his eyes locked on yours. 

“Sir,” a voice called politely, you were both pulled from your intense eye contact to see Your father flanked by two young and very handsome men. 

“Thank you for inviting me to your party tonight, sir.” Namjoon shook his hand firmly, his voice made you shiver, it wasn’t as light as it had been before, there was something clipped in his tone. Your former suspicions returned to you. Hard.

“Ah, Mr. Kim, I am glad you could make it, I didn’t think you would come to such a small affair?” Your father smiled, he was sweating a sign he was nervous but trying to hold his cool. 

“Dad is everything okay?” You took your father's pocket-handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. 

“Darling I would like for you to get some pictures with your mother. It is your birthday after all,” you looked at him curiously and almost yielded to his request when a firm hand caught your wrist. 

“Just a moment I would like to give you your birthday gift,” Namjoon smiled reaching into his pocket, his next statement seemed to cause the young man beside your father to scribble in a notebook. “A man must never come to a party empty-handed, especially not a birthday party.”

“Oh it’s okay, I don’t usually get presents anyway,” you were flustered by the prospect you always requested not to get presents to spare people the trouble of spending their money on material things. 

“That is a shame a pretty young lady like yourself should be spoiled daily,” a hot flush pinked your skin and it crept up your neck. 

He handed you a box wrapped in a small ribbon. She opened it to reveal an emerald bracelet just like the necklace she wore and he helped secure it to the wrist and smiled. 

“Emerald looks brilliant on you?”

Namjoon looked your father directly in the eyes watching the man sweat. Would he sell out his own daughter for his own safety? “Well darling, mister Kim and I are just going to do a quick spot of business”

“Okay,” you nodded, Namjoon looked over his shoulder and made a gesture to Jungkook and Yoongi to keep an eye on you. While following your weasel-like father to his study.

“I know why you are here and I am sorry, I had the money ready to give you but it was my daughter’s birthday and I couldn’t turn up empty-handed,” Your father said “I will get you the money by the end of the week.”

“You will as I will have collateral just in case your daughter will leave with me.” Namjoon threatened before adding an afterthought “tonight”.

“Please don’t hurt her, I will get you the money, I promise. Please.” He pleaded, dropping onto his knees. Namjoon felt his eye twitch in disgust. 

“You will give me the money, otherwise you will never see your daughter again.” 

You were feeling kind of awkward, the two young men accompanying you weren’t awful company, they just weren’t very talkative. 

“So you work with Namjoon?” you asked 

“Mmm…” one so graciously grunted in response

“What do you do?” you swayed from foot to foot trying to strike up some sort of conversation.

“Mister Kim is an entrepreneur,” The taller man said excitedly. You nodded; he very obviously liked his boss.

“You seem to enjoy working for him then,” You asked happily and the two nodded going back to standing around.

“Ah, you must be the birthday girl?” A sweet voice called your attention, “Wah, You are so beautiful miss y/n?”

“Have we met?” Already knowing you hadn’t met any of these men they were way too handsome for you to just forget. He had long legs accentuated by his high waisted trousers, his feet moved one in front of the other with all the grace and caution like a model in a field of landmines. He scooped your hand into his grasp and kissed your knuckle’s eyes searching your person and the room. “Park Jimin.”

Beside him was a taller young man who was boyish with big rounded ears that added so much youth to his face. “I do not believe we have ma’am and that is a shame” He also kissed your knuckles politely and threw you a grin. “Kim Taehyung at your service.”

“Tell me, miss Y/n. Do you like Painting?” Taehyung asked with a grin and you nodded 

“Though I am not good at it, yes.” You sighed while playing with your lace sleeve, you were currently surrounded by these very tall and intimidating men. “Do you like painting?”

“I enjoy it greatly my dear, would you be interested in painting with me?” He smiled brightly and you grinned feeling more relaxed.

“I would love to,” you grinned and they all got a text to their apple watches that they read and quickly dismissed from view.

“Miss y/n, we would like to hold a toast,” Jimin grinned, handing you a champagne flute. You nodded and Jimin led a toast celebrating your birthday, ending his short speech with. “You have to all drink it in one shot for the best of wishes for the birthday girl” 

You drank heartedly watching them all drink as well, the conversation continued and you were happily chatting about all different things when you started to feel rather drowsy. “I think I drank too much.” You giggled, feeling tired, a warm coat was draped over your shoulders it was super roomy and you felt yourself drift off.

There were strange sounds and lights passing over you periodically, though it stirred you it wasn’t enough to wake you fully. Only when your body had fought the immense fatigue did you wake. 

Everything was stale, the air, the room, life, for a moment you didn’t move. Your body was heavy and your head clouded. Taking a deep breath you sat up the lush blankets in their covers making noise against the soft satin sheet. 

The room wasn’t yours, the furniture was all a dark almost black lacquered wood, the bedding was also all black. It was a dark room with thick heavy curtains. 

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you gripped the fourposter frame and stood upright nursing a slight ache behind your temples. 

The floor was a white marble, searingly cold against your feet. You looked down at the sweet emerald négligée, your jewellery was placed on the bedside table. 

Where you saw a glass of water, taking the glass you took a few sips quenching your thirst and pushing the bile rising in your throat back down. 

Crossing the room, trying to find a bathroom you opened the first set of double doors and found a walk-in wardrobe. There were many suits inside and a door caught your eye, perhaps it led to the bathroom. 

Opening the door you saw for the first time in your life real guns and weapons on display, wherever you are it mustn’t be safe. You picked up a small handgun like the ones you had seen in movies. 

You moved on to the bathroom, your bladder was urgently requesting relief. 

Opening the next doors you came across a bathroom like no other. It was all the same white marble, the feature was a round shower located in the middle of the room. With two curved sliding doors one on either side of the shower. 

Between curved glass panels were stone pillars one which had been carved into as to create shelves with built-in product dispensers. 

You saw a control panel on the outside of the shower and you wondered where the water came from but looking up at the hanging gold shower head that was almost as wide as the shower. 

You could imagine how it would feel, like warm rain falling against your skin. On your right as you stepped in was a beautiful counter with his and her basins in front of a finely detailed gold framed mirror. 

On the opposite wall to your left were shelves of fresh towels and a few cabinets and a seated area with a lady might do her makeup

Walking around the shower along the walls of towels you saw the toilet the door was made of frosted glass and you at this point didn’t care if you were quick you wouldn’t be seen. 

You flushed and paused waiting for any signs of people coming to get you but you heard nothing. 

You stepped out and circled the shower the back wall had a brilliant window and four short steps to a lifted square seating area with a cushioned window seat that lined the three of the square walls. 

There was a small coffee table in the middle and continuing on the last corner of the room just between the sitting areas and the counter was a square bath fit for perhaps four people. 

“Shit, where is she?” The sound made your pulse skyrocket, you needed to hide. You stood behind one of the big thick pillars on the outside of the shower. Hoping they would glance over the room. 

You froze the gun behind your back and you waited. “Is she in here?” A voice said, “doesn’t look like it,” another said

“Where is she?” A raspy voice spoke. 

“We don’t know, sir, Yoongi was posted outside and swears she didn’t leave so she has to be in here.” 

“Y/n?” He called, “are you okay, you are a guest here I promise.”

You snorted, “that’s funny, I don’t remember being invited.” 

“You don’t remember what happened last night do you?” He asked and you saw movement in the mirror. You grabbed the shower door and opened it stepping inside and pressing your back against a pillar. 

The problem was opening one door opened both, you used your free hand to reach beside you and slowly close the glass door. 

He smirked, grabbing the opposite glass door with his hand, stopping it from closing and pulling the door back open. “You won’t shoot me, baby, you are too gentle, hand it over and we can talk.”

You took a few heavy breaths psyching yourself up before pulling the trigger. Eyes squeezed shut only to hear a click, “shit!”

“You got some guts, I will give you that. I am proud, the weak don’t survive” He grinned, reaching outside the shower to the control panel and grinned “but you didn’t put a magazine in your gun, I could show you how?” 

He pressed a button and cold water poured down, jolting you awake. You tried to avoid the water but you were soaked, he stepped inside and shut the door with his men standing guard either side. 

“When you shoot a gun don’t close your eyes, baby otherwise how will you aim?” His chest pressed against yours and he grinned, taking your hand. “Now let’s get you dressed, and we can have a late breakfast.”

You struggled to pull your hand free, “why am I here?”

“Because your father borrowed five hundred thousand dollars from me and didn’t pay it back in time,” he gently tucked your wet hair behind your ear frowning at how it stuck to your neck, how the small négligée clung to your skin and how your body reacted to the cold. “So I took you as collateral for my money. How very gentlemanly of you.”

He took the gun from your hand and grinned, “you are spirited and I like that, but do not worry my only intentions are my money no harm will come to you, you are actually really interesting I would like to get to know you more.”

“Come let’s have breakfast baby,” he said over his shoulder

You followed him obediently your goal was to play your way out, cooperation until they let their guard down. Stepping out of the Taehyung standing there with a grin, and he held up a bag, “Hoseok and I bought you clothes?”

You nodded while taking the bag pondering a recurring thought, “who changed me last night?”

“I did, love but do not fret, I am a doctor and I assure you I did nothing inappropriate, while you were asleep. I would never, it’s too much work?” the short black-haired man spoke twirling a knife around his fingers. 

“Seriously, I don’t think Yoongi is human, we have taken him to so many brothels and he doesn’t get turned on at all,” you made eye contact with Yoongi who looked away causing you to crease your eyebrows. 

“I respect women and their professions?” Yoongi sighed, and you nodded thoughtfully walking into the bathroom and staring in the mirror. Eventually getting out of the wet garment and into a beautiful sundress. 

Processing your thoughts meticulously. He said you were here until your father paid his debt. He said he wouldn’t harm you. You had many unanswered questions but you felt a little reassured by these factors. You were still scared out of your wits but 

When you stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed you felt much better. The room was empty except Yoongi and you sighed looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything.” 

“I believe you, do not stress,” you patted his shoulder and with a deep breath in, you puffed up your chest, square your shoulders, and strode forward to the door with a firm nod. Yoongi navigated you through the halls behind you trying to keep up but you didn’t slow down. 

“Through to the end room two double doors,” he panted as you lost him down the hall, throwing the doors open, guns were drawn and all your new found confidence dwindled. 

“Ah, my apologies we usually knock.” Namjoon smiled holding his hands out to his men to stand down, “it’s polite.”

“Is kidnapping me polite?” You scoffed stomping towards him. “You said I am here till my father pays his debt and then I am free to leave correct?”

“Yes, that is—”

“So am I a prisoner?”

“You are a guest,” he said.

“So I can leave?”

“No.”

“Do you happen to know the definition of prisoner?”

“I believe you are referring to the noun of a person captured and kept confined by an enemy or criminal” he sighed “listen would you like to see a real prisoner? I can guarantee you are treated better than some of our other guests in this house”

Taken back by his words you looked away and sighed slumping into the empty seat at the other end of the table “who are you really?”

“I am Kim Namjoon, also known as RM,” he looked down the table at you. You were silent while eating, pondering this information biding your time before you could ask some more. 

“Now for business?” Namjoon gestured for his men to start talking. 

“Uh about mister Lee, I have successfully um… spoken?” The word came out as more of a question as Seokjin side-eyed you, “with him and he told me where we can find the um...”

“Hey, whatever it is you can say it, I’m not going to be scared by mere words.” You scoffed, stabbing a piece of cantaloupe. Namjoon nodded, approving Seokjin to talk freely.

“I interrogated him and we found the children he was trafficking returned them to their families,” Seokjin said “He is seriously sick in the head” 

“You are sure he has told you everything?” Namjoon ate his eggs and toast watching them over his cup of coffee. 

“I think so but to make sure I might cut off his remaining fingers and see what he has to say,” Seokjin nodded, “if he says no more well then I guess he is finished.”

“Hoseok what do you know?” Namjoon prompted the next man to speak.

“I know that Mr. y/l/n is accumulating stocks and seems to be on the way to paying his debt,” Hoseok said, your head snapped to him at the mention of your father and he cleared his throat with an awkward twitch of his head. “In other news, there is a young man named David from America is here to discuss a transaction on weapons”

“Anything else?” Namjoon pressed on, studying the man's reactions.

“A few minor gossip aspects from last nights party” you blinked turning to Hoseok who continued, “nothing serious but I will file it away for possible use in the future”

“I took out Mr Roth last night at the party.” Jimin threw the paper down and Namjoon picked it up. “Easily fooled as always.”

“Was there any complications?” Namjoon asked placing the paper down on the table and you walked around picking it up standing beside Namjoon as you read the information on the front page. 

Mob Merrymaking

On the evening of the 13th of July, Y/N was celebrating her 21st Birthday. The night was full of dancing, gifts and esteemed guests. The night which was intended to be a beautiful celebration turned sour when a Local Gang drugged and abducted the young woman. Mr Roth a nobleman of 45 had been found in the bathroom, his death was determined as substance abuse.

Mr. L/n stated “She will be fine wherever she is, she is a smart girl and too pure to get herself hurt” He further implied “...I also have no ill will towards any gangs that would warrant my daughter being taken or our family getting hurt. She is a beautiful woman and I think he must have taken a liking to her which leaves me to believe he won’t hurt her.”

Kim Industries which deals with Construction, real estate, property investments, restaurants bars and even Casinos are implied to be the gang in question. Kim Namjoon, as the owner of Kim Industries, was happy to oblige to the police investigation allowing his home to be thoroughly searched by police for the missing young woman. The residence came up empty of any incriminating evidence.

Where did the young woman go? Who is she with? If you have any information contact the police.

You were told to wait in the house while they all went to meet this American man named David, you refused saying if they left you alone you would either run away or set the place on fire. 

Namjoon grabbed you by the upper arm, “You are a young lady, start acting like one, we have treated you well and you have done nothing but act like a spoilt child.”

You had never been reprimanded so directly and harshly before, you were somewhat sheltered and sensitive to anger. You turned your head away from him as a few tears slipped.

“Sir, would you like me to stay behind with her?” Jungkook asked, watching his leader take out a pocket-handkerchief and take the young woman's chin firmly between his thumb and crooked finger tilting it up.

“She will come along, she must learn the severity of one's actions and the business we dabble in, to know the true weight of her actions,” He sighed, wiping your eyes. “Always carry a handkerchief Jungkook, women cry.”

“Of course! This way Miss,” Jungkook smiled softly, taking out his notebook to write the newest rule as he walked, “Namjoon is never late for a meeting.”

Escorted to the car as they all checked their weapons discussing their plan of attack, the trip took longer than you expected and at least an hour and a half had passed. The large juice you had at breakfast was making itself known. 

“Uh, I have to pee?” You whispered to Yoongi who frowned patting your knee in consolidation. 

“Namjoon doesn’t stop for anyone,” he sighed, “You will have to hold it,”

“What is it?” Namjoon commanded, not liking the whispering you were doing with his doctor.

“Y/n said she has to pee,” Yoongi said, “and I told her she will have to hold it.”

Namjoon nodded unphased “You should have gone before we left. Always pee before leaving the house.”

“I am not a child,” You hissed “I know when I need to pee and when I don’t, I wasn’t told the duration of this trip, to know whether I should go to the bathroom, and if I remember correctly I was ushered to the car before I had a chance to question it.”

“Keep your emotions out of your argument, you really are starting to sound like a child,” Namjoon said turning back to the conversation, there was nothing you could do.

The car pulled up, at a small furniture store, the men walked in lead by Namjoon and you were to stay outside with Yoongi and Seokjin. 

It was supposed to be a peaceful meeting, but you really had to go to the toilet. The two men were leaning on the back of the car, Yoongi smoking slowly and Seokjin complaining that it was bad for his looks to be near smoke. 

“Then fuck off,” Yoongi growled blowing large wisps of smoke purposefully at the other. The two bickered like a father of three and his bratty child. 

You really needed to go, to the point that you were eyeing a couple of bushes and hedges in the area. You, a high-class lady were contemplating urinating in public, that’s how serious this was. 

You looked at the two bickering again, Yoongi smirked, blowing more smoke at Seokjin who started coughing open-mouthed at Yoongi not bothering to cover his mouth. 

“You're nasty!” Yoongi grumbled, you rolled your eyes and snuck into the shop, there had to be an employee bathroom. 

You found a door but when you opened it you were met with men and guns, you immediately froze, all the muscles in your body tensing up.“Darling come here,” Namjoon said, gesturing you over to his side, and slipping you under his arm. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait by the car?”

“I have to pee,” you whimpered.

“Calm your expression,” he held your cheek and brought your eyes to his, “by my side, you don’t need to be scared, no one can hurt you?”

“That’s right darling we are just having a discussion, do you want to wait outside again we don’t want anything to happen to a pretty girl like you?”

You don’t know who said what but shots we fired and Namjoon pushed you across the room behind some big cabinets. When your back hit the tall boy you felt your bladder relax and you looked down warmth spreading down the inseams of your jeans. 

You were shaking in fear as the shots rang around the room, some hitting the furniture near where you hid. But worse than all that you were embarrassed and shocked never in your teen and adult life had you ever wet yourself. 

You stood sobbing, standing in a puddle of your own liquids. You took off your sneakers throwing them aside and you looked at your clothes. 

“Namjoon, we can’t find Miss Y/n?” Seokjin shouted ducking bullets, and brandishing his own gun. The distraction allowed their enemy to escape. 

“She is here you idiots, I asked you to do one job and you couldn’t even do that?” Namjoon said “Jimin, good shooting, David won’t make it home”

“That’s my job,” Jimin said proudly and you had to pluck up the courage to talk to them, but it was easier to hide climbing into a cupboard. 

“Miss Y/n, are you hurt?” Yoongi asked “huh?”

“What is it?” Namjoon said 

“Oh no darling, I am so sorry?” Yoongi’s voice was solemn. 

“If she is dead I am killing you both,” Namjoon growled his boots hitting the cement as he stomped over. 

“Stay there,” Yoongi said with authority, the footsteps stopped “Jimin take off your pants?”

“What why?” Jimin asked confused as to why the conversation shifted to him and his trousers. 

“Just do it?” Yoongi growled snapping his fingers. 

“None of you will step foot over here until I say so, if you do I will happily sedate you all and turn you into eunuchs, and that includes you Namjoon.”

“I am your leader?”

“And I am your elder, go wait outside, all of you?” They all stepped outside and Yoongi sighed walking to the cupboard holding Jimin’s trousers. 

“Come here darling,” he said, taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom he told you to strip everything off except your bra. you sobbed. “Don’t worry I got more enjoyment out of seeing Jimin undress than redressing you last night, if you understand what I am saying.”

You realized and wiped your eyes, he pushed you to sit on the bench and he washed your legs in the sink and asked you to wash everything else yourself. 

You felt better, he apologized for not having any underwear for you and you slipped on Jimin's pants and fastened the belt. The last thing you would need is to expose everything and Yoongi gave you his undershirt. 

He walked you out and Namjoon looked relieved when he saw you emerge. “Are you okay?”

“No I am horrified, I was in the middle of a shoot out and I quite literally pissed myself,” you shouted. Your eyes stung from the crying you had done, “Never in my coherent life have I disgraced myself like that.”

“I apologize,” he said, holding his shoulder you saw blood seeping through his fingers, you immediately felt bad for yelling and making it about you when he was in pain.

Jimin stood in just his boxer briefs. “I have nothing against the no-pants but can we go home?”

The only rational thing to do after the incident at the furniture store and warehouse was to seclude yourself in your room away from everyone else. Namjoon often visited and brought you your meals talking to you about things with no real substance. Mostly about his loathing of check ups, it seemed he was hiding in your room from Yoongi.

This happened for a number of days until Hoseok got bored, he wanted to gossip with you and Taehyung came along with paints in hand. His excuse was that you had promised him you two could paint together. 

Forcibly removed from your one-person pity party you sat outside painting and chatting about random topics. 

Hoseok wanted to know if you had any suitors and who they were, he asked what type of guy you liked and you hummed. 

“Someone kind and generous who gives back to others” you gushed about your tall dark and handsome and they laughed.

That night Namjoon knocked on your door and requested you come down for dinner, you agreed much to his surprise. He stammered obviously not expecting you to consent to his plan for dinner, he nodded curtly and walked off down the hall. Tripping in his haste on a small lump in the hall carpet and catching himself on the wall.

Wearing a pretty emerald green halter dress the skirts swished as you walked and your modest heels clicked on the timber. You heard hushed talking and slowed down, being so confined the past few days you were almost starved for conversation. 

“He is having dinner tonight, they will all be in the dining hall which will leave his office free, once I get the information I will get out of here before they find out.” The man had a weird moustache and a mole above his eyebrow. 

You tiptoed past holding your skirts from ruffling and keeping your heels from clicking you headed downstairs. 

Pushing open the doors a multitude of guns were pointed at you, “Miss Y/n I was told you were from a moderately high-class family you should know how to knock.”

You raced over to Namjoon and cupped your hand around your mouth leaning down. “I heard someone talking about breaking into your office, to steal information”

“Jimin” Namjoon beckoned him over, he whispered to Jimin who nodded and went out the back door. 

“Where is he going?” You asked and Namjoon stood up and walked you to the other end of the table and you frowned, “I don’t like this?”

“Sit relax, it is time for us to enjoy dinner.”

You sat for the briefest of moments watching Namjoon cross the room and sit at the opposite end of the table before taking your chair and dragging it across the floor slowly. 

You saw his eyebrow twitch as you did so and stopped beside him. “I would prefer not to shout across the table,” you smiled softly

“You are both a blessing and a curse,” Namjoon said, “dinner is now a minute late”

Dinner was unlike anything you had ever had before, you smiled and ate happily, “this is delicious”

“You should try the steak?” Namjoon smiled, you nodded, cutting some of your chicken and stabbed it with a fork. 

“Alright, I will try some of your steak if you try some of this chicken?” You held it out to him and his eyes were wide “it’s a fair trade”

He leaned forward and ate the small piece off your fork and he cut you a piece of steak and held it out to you. 

You leaned forward and took a bite chewing slowly, your eyes going wide. “That is delicious”

Namjoon leaned over wiping your chin with a napkin his thumb, your eyes were locked in a fierce gaze and he gave you a dimpled smile.

“Jin, try some of my chicken?” Taehyung asked, holding out his fork. 

“No, thank you?” Seokjin said, continuing to eat his steak ignoring the pouting young man. 

“But they shared?” He whined. This made you aware of how intimate your action was, your cheeks flushing dark at your forwardness.

After dinner you were being escorted back to your room. Namjoon was quiet the whole time, not for lack of trying. The amount of times you saw him open and close his mouth, as if he was trying to strike up something to say. 

Standing at your door he paused looking at you searching for something, you laughed opening the door, “Would you like to come in for a drink?” 

He seemed grateful for the excuse to stay in your company, after a drink of two you started talking about your most embarrassing stories. He was actually super clumsy for someone in the mafia and a complete goofball.

“And that was my first kiss, I haven’t really had many kisses after that and the few I can remember were just as bad” Your laughter was cut off by Namjoon who had leaned over on the small couch and pressed his lips to yours. Just as you felt your heart flutter he pulled away.

“It is getting late you should sleep” He stood up and placed down the glass, you walked him to the door and he froze. “Was that okay? I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries, did I?”

“No it was nice really nice, you can do that-” He pressed his lips to yours once more and smiled whispering good night before walking off down the hall. With a sigh you added “Anytime you like.”

You didn’t hear anything strange from anyone or see anyone but you hoped everything worked out and the man who wanted to steal information ran away. 

You were trying to find Namjoon the next day and travelled downstairs looking in random doors. 

You reached the end of the hallway and found a door you heard screaming and knocked hesitantly on the wood, Yoongi stepped out covered in blood and gun in hand. 

“Oh, y/n now isn’t a good time?” Yoongi said, stepping out and shutting the door. “What are you doing down here?”

“I was looking for Namjoon, is everything okay? What are you doing?” You asked, concerned by the amount of blood on Yoongi’s clothes. 

“We are okay, Seokjin and I are just interrogating the mole, hey good spotting by the way no one knew they had snuck in,” your stomach dropped, this blood was from that man and it was all because of you. 

“Namjoon is in his office on the third floor from the ground west wing double doors on the left-right at the end of the corridor.”

You nodded, froze in place and Yoongi sighed “I have to go back in,” he went to pat your shoulder but saw his stained gloves and sighed ripping them off. 

He turned punching in numbers into the code lock. 7276. He slipped inside and you heard screaming, which was silenced immediately as the door sealed shut, you quickly ran feeling sick.

Racing up the stairs and bumping into Jungkook and almost falling, thankfully  he caught you, “hey hey, slow down what’s wrong?”

You were wide-eyed and scared and he frowned. “Did you go downstairs?”

You nodded and he led you down the hall, “you are scared and helpless, but the way to feel better is to get stronger. You won’t feel as scared if you're not so helpless.” Jungkook opened the doors to the gym. 

“Let me teach you how to fight,” Jungkook began teaching the basics and at another point, Jimin entered the two gave you pointers, their fighting styles. Jungkook was all power and strength and Jimin’s was survival. 

“Look all you got to know is how to break free so you can run away,” Jimin instructed. “Even someone like Yoongi can break out of Jungkook's grasp.” 

“That was one time and he refused to give me a rematch,” Jungkook wined. 

You were learning so much, and it was in a sense a little empowering. The two guys were good at what they did and the more you learnt the more you wanted to learn. 

Learning to fight gave you something to take your mind off what you had seen at least for the first two weeks but when you heard them relay information at breakfast you felt sick once more. 

“He refuses to speak,” Seokjin said 

“He will eventually,” Namjoon didn’t bat an eyelash. Two weeks of torture because you outed him. 

This was all your fault. He was suffering because of you. You left the dining hall unable to stomach the thought of food. 

Heading down the stairs you opened the door with the code 7276, you almost vomited, he sat there unrestrained and unconscious. His fingernails were removed and his face broken beyond repair. 

“Hello, sir are you alive?” You asked, he groaned struggling to move his head, coughing up some blood at the effort it took to move. 

“Who are you?”

“I am no one sir,” you breathed, “I can help you.”

He lunged hands gripping your throat and you fell back under the weight of him, you were struggling against him in panic. “Die you bitch, I know who you are, you're that monster's whore. He has never tried to protect anyone in his life and yet his soft spot is you. They are coming to kill you all.”

You struggled less hearing Jimin’s words in your head, “don’t panic” his voice would smooth as he held you in this position. “You want to panic but relax and fight back”

You did what he said, “your legs are your strongest so kick them in the chest” Jungkook would coach from the side, following their instructions you kicked the man off and ducked out the door pulling it closed. 

You were gasping and you ran up the stairs and into the dining hall gasping. Namjoon flew to his seat and scooped you up, sitting you on the side of the table. 

“Yoongi.” He commanded, he gently brushed his fingers over your neck, he looked upset, angry and sad all at once. The emotions were so strong it shocked you. Grabbing his gun, you pressed it into Namjoon's hands. 

“Kill him,” You wheezed, “slowly.”

“You went back down there didn’t you?” Jungkook sighed and before Yoongi could stop him Namjoon cocked the gun and stormed off. Seokjin followed after him and they all watched you trying to help. 

“Your throat will sting for a few days try not to talk it will help it heal,” Yoongi sighed 

“You just don’t want to hear me talk,” you joked, wincing at the pain. “Got it, no talking.”

Namjoon threw the man into the dining hall and dragged him by his hair across the floor, “the lady has requested you die and slowly.” 

Namjoon shot him six times in both legs, one in each foot, calf and thigh, the blood was pooling everywhere. You felt queasy, you wanted this but you weren’t sure you could stomach it. 

“If you can make it back to your people with these wounds I will let you go?” Namjoon put his gun away and the man tried to crawl away, losing strength as he streaked blood across the ground. 

The man was making horrible noises and you didn’t like it, covering your ears and Yoongi warned Namjoon who shot the mole in the back of the head as he reached for the door handle. 

Again the only thing you deemed appropriate after witnessing that sort of horrific event was to seclude yourself in your room. Yoongi visited bringing you soups to soothe your sore throat and his persistence and gentle nature was the only thing that got you to drink some of it.

You laid there alone when it started to rain. You loved the rain, but what surprised you was your new fear of the thunder rumbling in the distance sinister as if it was coming after you. 

You had never been afraid of storms you used to stand out on the patio undercover with your father and watch the lights flash and feel the electricity in the air. But now each flash had shadows in your window and was accompanied by gunshots that shook the ground.

You were a whimpering mess and you wanted to get out, you ran from your room and raced down the stairs and out the front door. You were in the rain running down the long estate driveway and you expected to be followed by Namjoons henchmen and dragged back and punished for what you didn’t expect was for Namjoon to be running after you. 

He grabbed you and pulled you to his chest hugging you gently and he started to sing in your ear, his voice was low and soothing. You found yourself easing into his chest and your erratic sobbing calmed some.

Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain,

He repeated this phrase slowly singing into your ear holding you desperately and before you knew it, you passed out in his arms.

Namjoon was sweet, you woke up beside him, you were dressed in a button-up and nothing more and he was in his trousers that looked damp, he was sleeping above the blankets holding your hand as if he hadn’t intended to fall asleep beside you but to watch over you.

You brushed his hair off of his face and covered him with a blanket before heading to his closet, taking out some sweatpants and a plain white shirt. He stirred awake when you emerged from the walk-in closet. 

“Good morning,” You said softly

“You haven’t obtained any of my weapons while I was sleeping have you?” He asked, making you laugh behind your hand.

“No, someone hasn’t taught me how to use a gun properly, something about a magazine?” you said, trying to play coy. Namjoon laughed getting out of bed and taking your hand, dragging you into the closet and he began explaining all about guns and you listened he had all these amazing facts from when they were made to how they were made and how they fired and how far.

He demonstrated how to put ammunition into the magazine and the magazine into the gun. He taught you how to take the safety on and off and how to hold the gun being new so as not to accidentally shoot anyone. 

He led you to the balcony and smiled telling you to hold the gun and he corrected your stance and hold and he told you to aim at a tree and you did. 

“Now shoot?” He smiled encouragingly. You turned to him shocked, starting to protest that you weren’t ready. 

“You are just scared I promise nothing will happen?” He smiled talking you through it all again. 

He didn’t rush you and he didn’t laugh, he spoke the whole time about what you would like for breakfast. You fired a shot and bumped into Namjoon, he chuckled, “that was a good start. Did you close your eyes? Try again.”

It took a few goes and the boys busting in the room before you were comfortable with the weapon. Each had pointers and you felt empowered once more. 

“I can make you a pretty handgun,” Taehyung smiled and the group went to breakfast. 

“We have a meeting today, so dress pretty, it’s a good meeting, nothing scary, I think you will like it.” Namjoon smiled, making you nod and run off to get dressed. 

“Something Christmassy!” Taehyung shouted. 

This wasn’t what you expected when you heard mafia, usually you would think things like guns and drugs and women and violence and sure some of those things were true. 

But giving Christmas presents to an orphanage full of children wasn’t what you had in mind. You took a present and handed it out, “are you mister Kim’s wife now?”

You giggled at the children’s naive question and began thinking about what it would be like if you really were Namjoon’s wife. 

“Well, he hasn’t asked me so, no,” you laughed with the children some of the teens heard and began teasing Namjoon. 

“Why haven’t you asked her yet she is so pretty?” They said, “I would ask her.”

“Namjoon is shy, underneath the suit he is just a boy with dimples” Jimin teased earning a wad of wrapping paper at his head from the man in question. You had stepped outside into the snow watching it fall around you, Namjoon was eyeing you through the small glass window.

Excusing himself Namjoon left the children and headed out into the snowy garden, he shrugged off his jacket as he approached and slipped it over your shoulders. Clearing his throat “you shouldn’t be out here, you might catch a cold”

“Not with you here” You elbowed him playfully, he chuckled allowing you to lean against him, he didn’t tell you he was cold but dutifully stood there and kept you company.

“Thank you so much,” The woman said, as you all stepped out the front door, the boys all headed to the car and you were left beside Namjoon who had left his arm around your waist leading you to the car. “For the presents and the donation, the children and I truly appreciate it.”

“Y/n?” Namjoon said as you walked into the dining room to find it empty, the food was set and there were candles. “I wanted to speak with you privately.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” You asked curiously, what was so important that his men whom he confided everything in were not present.

“Since I met you, I have broken so many of my rules, I have been late, I have forgotten what I have wanted to say, I have spoken without purpose, I have even broken the rule to keep speeches short and sweet.” He laughed rubbing the back of the neck. “I have enjoyed your company greatly and you have made me a better man because of it. Ever since I met you, I was enraptured by your brains and beauty. You are fiery and sassy and kind and real.”

“Thank you, I haven’t done that much though.” You weren’t being modest, you hadn’t done anything special to warrant his compliments.

“I wanted to ask if you would do me the greatest honour of marrying me?” He said, “I will keep you safe, you will never go hungry or cold, I will cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“Yes,” You said in shock, you liked him of course, you had for a while now but the fact that he could get anyone and he chose you. That was what shocked you, you weren’t on the same status level. He was very high class and you were scrapping the lower end of high class.

The celebration was to be held at the grand hotel, the hall was booked and looking spectacular you were announcing your engagement. It was a real lavish affair and you were in the most expensive gown you had ever seen, feeling like a million dollars and wearing a million and a half.

It was all real, the shoes, jewelry, hotel, engagement and you couldn’t believe it. “Is this a dream?” the stylist shook her head.

You were trying to wonder where it had all come together; it was little gestures and actions. When the two of you met and he was charming and poise when dancing with you. The more you got to know him he was meticulous and sassy and strict, he didn’t miss a chance to correct and reprimand you. 

Somewhere along your journey he started to enjoy your company, he became more clumsy, and open to new ideas. He took a chance and started approaching you with his feelings and what blossomed between you was love.

“My lady, if you are ready follow us to take some photos with your fiance on the rooftop.” You were shaken out of your daydream and guided to the elevator headed for the rooftop, the two men were talking into headsets, “Everything is secure” The man said straight-faced, and the other man helped you hold the small train of your dress.

When you stepped out the men guided you across the rooftop and told you to sit in the chair while the cameraman finished setting up. You sat drinking, you only got a short way through it before you fell asleep.

Waking it was dark, you were strapped to the chair and there was something heavy and bulky on your chest. Eyes adjusting to see the glowing numbers on your chest. You started to cry, something was wrong and almost an hour went by before, you heard someone shouting your name.

“Y/N!” it was Jimin.

“Jimin!” You shouted and he raced over to the door but you heard the clanking of chains. You were locked in. 

“Wait here, I will get the others and something to get you out.” He was gone before you could tell him.

You heard more voices and Namjoon came over, you had ten minutes written on the digital clock on your chest, the numbers flickering down consistently. “Y/N?” Namjoon said, “Don’t worry, we will get you out?”

“Namjoon,” You cried from the seat, sobs breaking through your words, “There is a bomb.”

“Where is the bomb?” Namjoon said 

“It’s here,” Hot tears falling from your eyes stinging, “It’s on me, there is only nine minutes left.”

He swore, “Break this door down now, find another way in?”

They all began struggling and trying their best, but you knew it was useless. Namjoon, go, take everyone and go, there isn’t enough time?”

“No!” Namjoon growled smashing his fists on the door and throwing his shoulder into it, “I will get you out of it.”

“Namjoon, send the boys away don’t get them hurt because of me?” You whispered, “Go!”

“Leave us,” Namjoon said, his voice defeated.

“We won’t leave without you both?” Jungkook said, the timer said three minutes and you wanted to scream at them to go but the sobs took everything out of you.

“A man will follow orders to the letter Jungkook.” Namjoon said, sending the younger man away, “Get out of here.”

“Yeah rule number twenty-two, but what about number thirty-three take a challenge or thirty-nine finish what you start.”

“Jungkook, leave now before I shoot you, your orders are to get everyone out of the building, we will be down soon.”

Jungkook hesitated before running off. You called out to Namjoon begging him to leave but he refused continuing to try to break down the door blinking away the blur in your eyes from the tears you saw the time had only a minute left.

“Namjoon, there is only a minute left, please leave.” You pleaded and you could hear him on the other side of the door. 

“I am not leaving you,” He sniffed, voice watery and shaking with the sounds of his sobs. He broke the number one rule.

[Part 2]

If you enjoyed it don’t forget to Like | Reblog so others can enjoy it too.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #bts mafia #bts mafia au #bts fluff #ts smut #bts fic #bts x reader #namjoon mafia #namjoon mafia au #namjoon x reader mafia #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jin x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[cant-blink]

Nightmare

Gigan still likes to sleep even when it's not a requirement for him anymore. And in a previous post, I mentioned that he likely suffers nightmares every now and again brought on by the trauma of going from his Showa form to Final Wars.

Imagine him turning in for the night with Ghidorah. Ghidorah doesn’t sleep outside of space-travel dormancy, so Gigan just orders him to lay next to him and just... be there. Keep watch or something, he doesn’t care. The three-headed dragon is less than enthused, as he lowers himself onto his belly, wings folded down and tails wrapped around himself. He tenses up as the half-life settles beside him and he tries to ignore the sensation of being touched as the cyborg grooms him.

Too bad Gigan soon whispers for Ghidorah to groom him back. The hydra has no choice but to obey, learning by this point that Gigan preferred having his sails groomed. Tis what space-duck mates do, clean those hard-to-reach places for each other.

To the average outsider, the image of these two laying together and grooming each other might be seen as innocent and sweet. Such lovebirds! If only they knew...

Anyway, after they’re both settled, Gigan pulls one of Ghidorah’s wings over him like a blanket, shooting a smirk at the growling hydra, before he rests his chin upon the blades crossed in front of him, and his visor goes dark.

Ghidorah is left in silence. Being tied to this spot, with an idiot huddled against his side, he wants so badly to take the opportunity to kill the half-life while he’s vulnerable and it’s super frustrating that he can’t. But at least now he’s left in peace, and every moment of the half-life sleeping is a moment to be savored.

But hours into the silence, it’s broken as the cyborg begins to twitch and growl.

He’s having a nightmare, reliving the terrible time when he was torn asunder and forcibly changed into his new Final Wars form. All the pain felt back then was intensified in his dream, all the worse when he’s made to endure the surgeries fully-aware. Faceless masses growing huge and looming over him. His heart racing in fear, but his body unable to move to act on it.

Ghidorah tries to ignore the growing noise coming from the half-life, but he definitely can’t ignore when the cyborg’s chest-saw goes off and tears into his scales. He jolts away with a shriek, glaring harshly at the cyborg, who in turn jolts awake at the dragon’s actions.

Gigan is disorientated for a moment, breaths heavy as he scans his surroundings, claws ready to lash out at the slightest of provocation. But there’s no threat here, no shapeless masses, no horrifying torturous procedures awaiting him. Just an angry, bleeding dragon.

All is well.

“.... Sorry.” Gigan mumbles distractedly before grooming himself to soothe, running his elongated tongue over his chest-saw to clean the blood off of it. After a moment of this calming activity, Gigan has composed himself. He settles back down but the hydra is not moving. 

Ghidorah realized quickly that he got hurt because of a nightmare. A stupid nightmare! He didn’t even know that half-lives can dream. Albeit, this is the first time this has happened, but the fact that it can draw his blood out of nowhere... Yeah, he’s not keen to get close, moreso than usual. He’s not one to repeat mistakes more than once, after all. 

But alas, his desire to avoid another incident goes unheeded as the cyborg gestures for him to come back, and Ghidorah can only hesitate for a second before begrudgingly stepping closer and settling back down.

This time, Ghidorah can feel the idiot half-life wrap a claw over his shoulders in an embrace and he closed his eyes to endure as he felt that beak nestling deep into his scales.

With Gigan settled once more, his visor dims. But this time, with every breath taking in so much of Ghidorah’s scent, Gigan could rest easy knowing the nightmares won’t be returning tonight.

#ghidorah #king ghidorah #gigan #godzilla #gigadorah #hybrid post of a ramble and a story #ghidorah is gigan's teddy bear now

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 10.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER. 

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 10

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: You’ve woken up after the possession without remembering how it went, nor did you remember yourself confessing for the witcher. Three wishes were said with an comfortable feeling that seemed irresistible for you and for the white wolf himself too; leading into having renowned stress and frustration for Geralt with tensions that seemed to be carnal deep inside. 

Warnings: Sexual tension. Frustration from both. Reader being one naughty woman for some bum staring and keeps on bothering a sleeping Geralt. Soft, soft, soft, Geralt of Rivia. Anxiety filled reader. Captain America is mentioned.

Words: 7.6k (SHEEIT. THIS IS LONG AF. WHAT THE HECK TATA HAHAHA. I WAS TOO HAPPY THAT THERE’S SOME TENSION NOW. HAHA! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT!)

A/N: Smut will be up soon. (Maybe around chapter 14-16) There will be! Patience is a virtue, bb’s! Also, this is one of my favorite chapters that I’ve written! Heehee! I hope you’ll love it! 💖

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM! (Some Gifs are from demivampirew)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

After the aberrant incident with your Djinn, you'd happen to wake up in the arms of the witcher. Geralt didn't know what happened; nor does he have any as to what explanations can be said. Nobody knew your wishes, not even yourself as you woke up sitting on a saddle; with Geralt's arms surrounding you in a warmth that tells you he was protecting the person in front of him; which was you.

He'd deeply pondered about it as the gang hiked back towards their path going home. What was the reason that you've been possessed by some sort of pneuma? Better yet, what have you really wished for?

All he remembered was your ebony eyes that consumed you from that time being. Though, drinking black blood was ticked off the list because he never even gave you the opportunity to try it nor is it possible for your tiny frame to take the elixir with no immunity like his.

You were definitely possessed; but then it left once you'd given him a barf of black smoke as explained by the bard who saw everything before his eyes.

He wasn't sure of it, but he couldn't be steadfast that the spirit wasn't in your body anymore; keeping you as a host. Though, the bard's explanations interprets that you've given the spirit to him.

Geralt would rather much prefer that than for you to painstakingly have it.

Hence, there was still a lot of questions especially that you woke up like finding a djinn never happened. Those words that was whispered out of your lips sounding like Elder speech.

He'd only understood the first word you've said which was 'Cáerme,'.

It meant Destiny. The word he hated the most.

The latter shouldn't have searched for the Djinn in the first place and just chose the latter option, but he just had to be so stubborn for wanting to flip the bird back at destiny who was trying to play him like a puppet and also at Durriken who began to spat shit back in the Tavern.

"Geralt," Jaskier extolled as the witcher walked Roach out of the forest. The way his pitch turned higher; sounding so mesmerized by the image he was seeing. The vast meadow sitting before him as a petite stone house castle appeared before them. Their wooden cavern long gone as another house has been magically changed; a stone house that probably had a second floor and rooms to provide for the whole family.

The bard gasped and stood in the middle of the field, his eyes shimmering in delight as he loomed before the new house; arms all wide as he exclaimed, "THIS IS SPLENDID! A MIRACLE, INDEED! What did she even wished for?!"

You were oddly silent. For Geralt, it was strange as he'd noticed that the first thing you've asked when you woke up in his arms was 'what happened?' as your eyes were weary and somehow filled with fatigue.

Your quietness was disturbing him to the fullest because he was fond of how you were always asking stuff whenever you see something uncanny in the midst of trailing down the path; which your naivety and curiosity lead to having a Hirikka living in his home. But, now; you were just staring out of nowhere as you sat on the saddle.

All your energy has just been taken from you when you've woken up in wonder; leaving you drained.

"What did you wish for, midget?" Geralt asked out of nowhere as he yanked on Roach's reigns as the horse galloped forward, towards an unspecified small, stone castle that you weren't accustomed with.

You've cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes back at the larger house sitting in front of you and at the question that the witcher has asked, "What? I haven't yet. We were about to go to the swamps, remember?"

It was a sapped response that made the witcher hum in wonderment; shrugging to himself as the horse maneuvered to the side of the house to see that he'd still acquired his stable but not made of wood; but made in stones.

The house totally looked sumptuous to Geralt's surprise. He was used to the penurious looking stuff, but not the lavish life. He'd been sleeping in brothels before, had no home and friends other than his horses. Yet, life seemed like surprise him to the fullest.

"You've already made your wishes and we have already went to the lake," the witcher surly grumbled, his voice vibrating against his chest as you could hear the cavernous timbre that surely always does give you a touch to the spine.

Howbeit, once you've heard the velveteen gradient passing through; the effect was rather much profound. Kindling with the sparks that seemed to give your spine a shiver.

Totally bewildering, overwhelming and suddenly pleasurable.

"I...didn't? What are you saying?" you softly chided as your body went stiff by the patent purl of his effect on you. The witcher detected your body turning rigid like you've been shot to the head; yet he paid no thorough heed to it as he thought you've just shivered from the benumbing breeze of the night.

You've felt shifting from behind and noticed Geralt who'd gotten to jump off his horse first. No movements were made other than you who was stupefied at whatever stupendous feeling you were having. Beseeching peepers peering down at the witcher who had his beautiful amber eyes on you; silently watching like a hawk with his expression stoic but somewhat pliable that only you had the liberty to.

Very weird indeed.

"Jump." the witcher ordered, his voice sending more overwhelming ripples of shivers that made you subtly shake your head but it was noticed by Geralt as his mouth formed a firm, thin line; eyebrows slightly creased together from the reaction he got.

You timidly hauled your leg off his horse. The witcher's robust fingers spontaneously grabbing onto your hip before you could even jump then fall to the ground; like an instinctive reflex coming from the man himself, carrying you down with no effort. You were gently placed to the ground with much caution.

The wavelet of pleasurable specter traveled through every parts of your body, involuntary stepping an inch away from the latter which has made his hands stay where they have been, cocking his head to the side as he blinked in confusion.

He stared at his fingers far too long; seeming to be feeling what you were also feeling as of the moment. But, he never planned to tell; thinking that it was just probably the side effects of what has happened prior to the Djinn incident that has occured.

"Ughm," your heart was beating fast, giving you an unrewarding feeling when you've subtly moved away from the witcher; your actions never liking what it did when you've felt weight laid upon your chest, making you want to groan out loud in ire, "T-Thanks,"

Geralt could only raise a brow in silence from your reflexes; a weird abrupt feeling of frustration spreading through his chest but he paid no regard as he wanted something he couldn't quite understand.

The witcher was the first to leave, his mouth in a small frown by whatever was irritating him. You tailed behind Geralt stepping foot on their door step with quick marches. From the moment you've thrown yourself in the space of their new humble abode, you were awestruck as you've scanned the whole place with stupefaction.

The interior design of the whole house was in cardinal and wood brown, floor in stones. Geralt stood in the middle of a rather medium sized living room, thoroughly inspecting the place with his scrutinizing amber eyes with Jaskier, Cirilla and Kolby entirely delighted by the miracle that has been given.

You've stood behind Geralt, his Herculean back shown to you as you were staring at it far too long. A sudden thought for wanting to see his body bare which earned a mental slap for your untamed brain.

What were you just thinking right now?

The brooding witcher puttered an exquisite groan to himself, a phantom of satisfying prickle of your stomach giving your insides a warmth that seemed to slowly become insufferable as he'd turned around to meet your doe-eyes; guilelessly peering up at the witcher who was all colossal and strong.

"Tell me your wishes---" he firmly started, roughly spitting out his demands when Geralt met your vindicated gaze that could get him antsy. But, now he was just beyond feeling irked. His gaze simply falling on your lips that held nothing but kindness; those lips that he suddenly wanted to savor all night long.

What was wrong with you both?

Geralt exhaled a calm breath; tightly gritting his teeth as he sharply snapped his eyes away from your vermillion, "---right now. If I were the Djinn,"

Kolby was yelping in the background in his own way; the Hirikka way. Albeit, Jaskier was trying to avoid the harmless monster as it was trying to stand in his path, asking for something from the bard, "No! Bad Hirikka! Stay away!"

You've given the witcher a look of peculiarity; studying how rigid his stance was before you. Eyes closed and seeming to be breathing deeply. The latter couldn't help but take note of how unyielding your scent have been, a sudden feeling that he couldn't withstand and just want to bury his nose in the crook of your neck.

It made Geralt hum a dangerous and displeased short-lived grumble deep inside his chest.

Lemon with a hint of peony. His new favorite scent since the moment you came running off the forest.

"Why---"

The witcher has sharply cut you off out of the blue, jaw clenching as he'd fluttered his eyes for you to see; piercing, obscure and penetrating. "Just tell me, midget."

Those eyes seem to always take your breath away; maybe even your soul as well because of those lascivious thoughts whispering inside your head; scorching your spirit to the fire wanting to be flamed.

"A..A bigger, better house for your family," you hesitantly murmured, soft and quietly which made Geralt's eyebrows twitch. The sound was delicate and utter convincing for him with a perilous want to satiate.

The type of satiation that he wanted to covet; all night long.

It was definitely sudden and treacherous.

Jaskier gave you both a once over across the kitchen, eyes bulging out of its sockets when he'd noticed it was bigger than what they had before; more comfortable and homey. Kolby was trailing behind the bard like he was his shadow which was still being ignored by the lean man himself, "Which explains why we have a small castle house right now, thank you very much, small rat! I can now bathe without Roach staring like he wants me to breed him,"

Jaskier's laugh was loudly resonating around the house which accompanied with the silence you were having with Geralt. One thud and you've noticed the witcher came closer, glowing amber eyes solely on your small frame as he continued his interrogation, "And the second?"

"Enough...food and clothes for everyone,"

Jaskier has seen a basket full of apples, oranges, grapes and everything you can ever wish for. His face twisting in oddity when he'd given the basket of apples to the Hirikka who'd devour it like he has been famished. The bard continued to listen, hearing Cirilla's loud stomps of excitement coming down the stairs of their new two-storey stone house, "Kolby is certainly loving it," he cajoled, stepping away from the Hirikka with a cringe on his face before looking at the princess who was now twirling around with a new pretty yellow gown that she held to herself; a huge beam on her face, "---Also, Cirilla."

You've stayed rooted on the ground, accepting the witcher's presence like it wasn't giving you the shivers and a weirdly palpable desire for wanting him close. Closer than you can ever imagine. Geralt also wanted you nearer, maybe even more. A lot more. Your irresistible scent clouding his mind as he'd taken several steps closer, your scent crashing his palates like a damn delicious snack he'd wish to devour.

The latter lowly whispered crude profanities to himself when the 'want' was starting to get to him. It wasn't like this before; the cravings and utter such. Only for tonight. He ceased his steps once he was an inch away from your feet, looming before you like a skyscraper as you've felt the heat of his stare totally irresistible as time goes by.

It was creating an enigma for your silent mental thinking; heedful of keeping your thoughts in a haywire.

"The last one?" It was a mere grumble, a volume that only you could hear as you were thoroughly enchanted by those amber eyes trying to burn your vindicated soul.

"The happiness of all, especially...yours," your heart was running a mile as you were consumed by the fire in his eyes. You softly stuttered with utmost sincerity. Never wanting the overwhelming sensation to go away as he was now closer; seeming that your desire to touch him was turning deep-seated.

You wanted to touch his face. Badly. The warm feeling threatening you to do it.

But, it seemed like the witcher was also feeling the same way and was somehow more immune to the irresistible repulsion. You've seen his eyes faltering, changing into a look of frustration, anger and depletion as he snapped his head away from you. The veins to his temples throbbing as deeply growled to himself; fighting off something he was feeling that you couldn't decipher.

Then, it was like he'd broken the spell as he abruptly shifted away from you; shaking his head. The overwhelming sensation changing into dismay and pain. His reaction sparking you to feel downhearted. Shouldn't he be happy that you wished for his happiness as well?

You've blinked back at the witcher with a frown, the way his eyes shun away kept your heart at bay, pondering of the fact if he felt it too or was it just another one of your ridiculous hallucinations? There were voices inside your head, screaming that you've told the witcher you liked him, though you never remembered when and where.

Maybe, it never happened?

Hence, why does the idea felt incorrect?

Jaskier, a great eavesdropper; managed to slid his way to where you both were. The bard's ocean eyes raking both of your rigid forms like you were acting pretty strange. Especially, the witcher who seemed to be having an internal battle within himself, "Alas! It seems like this is the wish that broke my heart because the witcher doesn't appear happy at all,"

Geralt gritted his teeth as he spoke; clearly upset of your last wish as he was glaring you down. The sudden change of his attitude making you scrunch your nose in dismay; his frustration seeming to also be given as you had your fists on either side, huffing out a breath;  "You didn't wish to go back to that earth you call your home?"

"By the sound of my last wish, I think I did."

"It didn't sound like it," the witcher roughly spat. Bruising that selflessness and naivety of yours with his simple words. You crippled under his fierce gaze and felt yourself thwarting, "I really did! I didn't want to be selfish and wish for myself! Coming home makes me happy! Obviously, it would've been for you too based on how persistent you are in throwing me away! If I did say that to the Djinn then I should've portaled back home already!"

The sudden high-pitch timbre of your voice was an accident. You didn't mean to burst like a mad man at the witcher who had been wincing since the moment you've spat spiteful words after words. You were utterly infuriated; from the heavy, unrelieved feeling and also disheartened by how he was strong willed about how you should go back to where you came from.

Jaskier was rooted on the ground. Hands fidgeting over his cup of water, tapping the lid when you've started dropping a bombshell back at the unnerved witcher who now had a stoic expression carving his features once again; giving you each other looks as his mouth was in an 'O' form, staring back at Geralt; waiting for another mistake that he could do because he was that type of lout as Jaskier knew.

But, to the bard's surprise; his expectations had been high as he waited for the witcher to yell back like how he did to him back in the days; accidentally hurting his heart.

Yet, there was no angry witcher coming forth.

"You should've been more specific," Geralt calmly murmured, audibly sighing from the anger you've poured down on him; leaving Jaskier  to his astonishment, "---you're too fucking selfless," the latter went on with his gruff rumbles, shaking his head in disdain as he turned his heel to drop his heavy metal sword on a medium sized brown mahogany table, "---to even include us in your wishes,"

Cirilla was nowhere to be found; currently in her room as she was jumping on her pretty large new bed. Jaskier wearily blinked back to the both of you who seemed to be in a mess; nodding to himself from the moment the witcher was the first to even calm down when you were maddened.

The simple action was enough for Jaskier to get blown away because he rarely does that when someone was proving a point to the witcher, especially when the point was actually about his rickety attitude that he couldn't control. The bard left you both to your argument, never wanting another quarrel and trying to cease the war by waving the white flag.

His firm and calm response made you feel bad. Totally bad especially when you've seen his frown. Howbeit, you were pondering why was he even thwarted about the fact that you included them in your wishes when he should've been thankful?

Witchers were complicated, you thought to yourself. The pent up aggression now leaving your body when you've tried to reason out to the witcher; though, it was still there deep inside. You just tried to shake it off.

You've tread on the heels of Geralt; throwing questions after questions as you were hot on his wheels, "But, did we get the Djinn?" First. "What happened?" Second. "Are you really not going to answer me? Is this a part of your brooding charm, then?" Third.

He'd ceased his steps before the first block of the stairs, your forehead hitting his beefy back. You've immediately hissed at that and caressed the part that was hit, silently groaning out for being an annoying idiot.

The witcher wasn't moved at all.

You were beyond awestruck from how you were acting. You've never been seeking for his attention before yet here you are; kindling with his patience.

"I'm sorry," the guilt was eating you alive. Your sudden caterwaul and needy attitude making you feel strange. You were never like that. Ever. You genuinely apologized to the witcher, biting at the pillows of your chapped lips from the anxiety, "---I didn't know you want me to leave that bad, Geralt."

Still, no answer from the witcher. Albeit, that was his problem with each passing day with you; the thought of you leaving was slowly penetrating his will on watching you go. He was slowly hating to see you leave.

If Destiny was hearing his thoughts, it'll be celebrating by how she was playing her cards right. It's what she wanted from him; from Geralt.

To accept his destiny. As always.

"---Also, thank you." you continued, trying to communicate with the silent hunk of a man, "---For always saving me when I should've been killed already,"

You've given him a small, sad smile without him even looking. Catching you off guard when he'd momentarily turned around to see a partial of his apologetic amber eyes.

"I---"

Though, it seemed like destiny didn't want that from Jaskier's brash interruption; Geralt didn't have the chance to continue what he wanted to say. A subtle roll of his eyes as the bard hollered from the second floor, being happy as a box of birds when he was welcomed with a bed that seemed so comforting to sleep on. He was just looking through the set of rooms; deciding to give Geralt the chambers that had wider windows then leaving to catch up on the others. There was also a pretty much medium sized bath room that took up most of the proximity of the home itself.

It was rather fantastic.

"THERE'S ANOTHER SPARE ROOM! HOWEVER, IT IS PRECISELY ONE ROOM DESTINED FOR ME!" he shouted from above, hearing him uttering out the most unfamiliar words he'd excitedly said as he continued to yell, "---YOU ARE AN ANGEL SENT FROM AN UNKNOWN PORTAL, Y/N! I SEND MY KISSES TO YOU! MUAH!"

Geralt's features was masking in complete fatigue and dismay; sighing from the bard's horrible interaction.

You bit your lips together, beaming back at the witcher who had a tight scowl on his face as you'd stealthily stepped back; planning to flee from his presence. Your thoughts thinking that maybe he was already annoyed, "Okay then, I'll give you your wanted silence."

You've side-stepped, cautiously aware of how heavy his gaze rested upon you. But, you were too bashful to even look back. Nervous that he would notice that you were already deeply fond of him.

But, something inside you says he already knows which is why it added more butterflies in your stomach; lately becoming uncontrollable and raucous.

"Where are you going?" Geralt bluntly questioned, you've ceased from escaping within his presence and gave him a look that tries to state the obvious, "To my chambers?"

The brooding witcher cocked his head to the side, curiosity filling his cat eyes. His lips twitching for a smirk to carve because your reasoning was hilarious, "The kitchen?"

You gave him a tight crease of your forehead, finding his queries rather abrupt and weirdly strange because he seemed to be pointing out that it wasn't your room and so you've laid down your opinions and viewpoint, "I know you were kind enough to lend me your bed because I was wounded. But, I think the medicine still works like a miracle and---"

Therefore, it was enough for the witcher to simper. The strange sentiments of keeping you close as he tries to sleep assaulted those strange senses that continues to give him impelling decisions.

"No," Geralt wanted to wince. It was not what he wanted to say. His crooked smile fell when you eyed him like he was a weird one, "What do you mean, no?"

"You can have my bed,"

The latter's nose was scrunched, subtly snapping his head to the side as he lowly cussed, "Ugh, fuck." when that was abruptly said out in the open.

He wanted you with him. On his bed. With reasons that can get him to sleep and also because of that feeling he couldn't get off his chest.

You puckered your lips in quick ponder, before shrugging to yourself and suddenly sleeping on his bed seemed to be normal, "Okay--What?"

Geralt calmly exhaled a breath, blinking back at you with a scowl as his body went stiff; uttering his next words with contrived annoyance, "You can suffer from Jaskier's lute strumming in the middle of the night; non stop like a dragon in heat," his teeth gritted against each other. Though, you didn't notice that and was more heedful of his anomalous attitude, "Is...Cirilla's room not available?"

The witcher shook his head, to the question sent and for his random actions, "You can't always sleep in her room," pause. He'd started again with doubt dripping in his baritone pitch, "---There are...peril instances that may occur when she is deep in her slumber,"

You clicked your tongue, "So, I have no choice but to sleep in your bed?"

"Hmm."

All you've gotten from him was a raise of his brow and a low menacing hum that seemed displeasing to the ears, "I think that was a yes," you avoided his intense golden peepers, thoroughly tentative of how your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your long mustard colored sleeved sweater; his demands giving your heart another blush, "---You are acting...weird today, Geralt."

With you stating the obvious ignited a grudging groan from the latter. Words were in a surly rumble as he languidly spun in his booted heels and took his flight up the stairs. His heavy, muscly weight making the floors creak with every step he takes; following him from behind, "Fine. Sleep with Kolby for all you want."

The way up was steep and narrow. Having an ounce of space for the person below the latter when he walks up. You were lost in wonder as your focal point was fortunately on Geralt's abounding derriere that made your mouth dry. 11/10, you rated inside your brain. Totally A+ with that tight leather pants he wore. He had a better bum than you, which made you look back at your own tushie, lighting up a scoff to your disappointment.

"---He seems quite unstable before we went to go get that faux of a Djinn,"

Halfway up the stairs, the witcher ceased. Sensing something was going on as he slightly turned his body to see you staring straight at his tushie. Geralt eyed you down in confusion, his amber eyes skeptical as he just caught you ogling at his firm glutes. The witcher couldn't help but scorn, seeing your mouth shut and in awe from what you were seeing.

You've blinked back to see him staring you down with that guileless curiosity of what you were just doing. Maybe staring at a witcher's bum wasn't exactly the brightest idea when he had heightened senses. A loud clear of your throat got him smirking before he continued to ascend.

"You--You called him Kolby!" you stuttered and tried to ignore that you were caught red handed by the witcher. You went after him and feel the blush creeping up your face,  "Don't--Don't you turn your back away from me when I'm talking to you, Rivia! "

Your eyes scanned the way up the stairs, utterly surprised to see their house magically transformed into something better, "---So, I really did made the wishes already! Your house has a second floor right now?"

A crane of your neck as you watch his dirty, tousled hair bounce with every step you take. Those buns of his also jiggling when he took his final step and you couldn't avoid but silently give a chef's kiss; understanding how he was ravishing and utmost pleasing to the eyes of women.

Until your foot caught the ends of the stairs and you stumbled. One knee falling flat on the floor and a loud thud erupted from your clumsy accident. Too much bum staring. But, it was probably worth it. "Oh---Geralt! Ow!"

There wasn't much struggle as the witcher effortlessly grabbed your weight in one second; keeping you still as you were given a whiplash by those spellbinding eyes.

The witcher had one knee dropped to the ground, never hesitating to give assistance to your dextrosity. You were a lummox when you were bashful and shy; uttering out the most ungraceful confessions, opinions or even being an utter clutz because your fingers fidget from the embarrassment.

"So fucking selfless with her wishes and utterly cloddish,"

Geralt checked your bandages in haste, straightaway pulling the hems of your sweater in the right, respectful amount to see them all bloody and looking like you've stitched them open because of your accident. Touching you seemed to be the least of his worries when you've arrived; like he couldn't feel the prickling, delightful sensation that he pours out on you whenever he does.

He was prettier up close. You mentally thought to yourself, charmed by his handsome features when his focal point was on your bloody bandage, "You need those bandages changed, midget." he grumbled the thought out loud, slightly craning his head as you had the advantage on the position you both have; meeting those curious doe eyes like you wanted more from the witcher.

Something insatiable, pure and peckish.

Faces close in proximity, trapped in a spellbind that you both completely had no power in. His warm breath hitting your ajar mouth, slightly filling the curiosity you had for the witcher.

You've raked the small scars on his face, imperfections that made him more striking; wondering how many flaws did he have to take to become a monster-slayer in their world as you remembered Cirilla's stories about him. What more scars did he held on his body in which you find him still delightful.

The gap between the both of you was perilous. There it was again, the sensations that you both were having; yet no one was willing to risk.

"Geralt?" you softly whispered against the his lips; watching those eyelids of him fall shut when he'd craned his head to see your eyes staring right at him. Those gorgeous eyelashes that had been given to him; rather than to a woman like you. It was unfair to see how gorgeous he was up close.

Lemon. Peony. It was enticing for a witcher. Bringing him to a haven he didn't thought there was.

From the moment he'd heard you softly say his name, he'd slightly fell back; seeming to be caught in a vulnerable state. You've finally seen his eyes that was now filled with ire; like he was struggling with something within himself, "Hmm?"

"Did I...do something?"

The witcher exhaled a breath he has been holding, your scent catching his senses as he tried to imprint your scent by heart, giving him the advantage that it helps in making him calm and at ease, "No," he gruffly mumbled, breaking the spell and dragging his sky scraping height to the fullest; standing up with a frown on his face by wanting to achieve something that shouldn't be dreamt of, "Not at all."

Vulnerability would answer his curiosities and the witcher didn't know if he was ready yet because the last time he did, it got his heart broken.

You've had sleepless nights. Even more than you can ever imagine back in your apartment. The insomnia was kicking you in the ass for a thousand times as you kicked and stirred in your sleep, beside a witcher who has been giving your heart a marathon.

Just his breathing was keeping your breathing and heartbeat erratic.

There it was, the desire of having the big witcher close to you as he slept on the other end of the rather new large bed, his strapped, broad back away from you looking like the space he'd given himself was rather too little for his large frame.

It was funny to see him struggling with the small space as you've twisted and turned for the hundredth time. You couldn't hear anything other than the eerie, buzzing sounds of the night. Jaskier finally had shut up from creating new epics and strumming on his lute, so to say; it was probably three o'clock in the morning in their time.

You were wondering if that was how the witcher slept. Only on one position; never moving like he was dead. It has already been two hours and you had nothing to do but tap on the mattress with your fingers and stare at his clothed back. Did he also have scars on his back too? you mentally thought to yourself and gently turned your body to look at the wooden ceilings.

Sleep wouldn't consume you tonight. You'd rather have a different type of sensation that would consume you all night. Your breath hitched at the thought of that, wordlessly dragging the sheets above you to wrinkle your nose from the damaging ideas inside your head. Your soul probably tutting because of how you've become from the moment you've fainted and remember nothing.

There was a sigh. Your head snapped towards the witcher who seem to shift in his side of the bed, placing a hand underneath his pillows as his face was morphed into distress. He couldn't sleep at all because you were restlessly moving like a worm, also for the heavy feeling tugging at his chest since the moment he'd woken up from being attacked by the djinn.

"Geralt?"

He didn't answer.

"---It's cold, like really cold." with that, he deeply sighed; never planning on opening his eyes. The latter was hoping you would stop turning around the mattress and also for the uncomfortable feeling resting on his chest with every breath you take.

"Not for me,"

Geralt knew you were pouting at his response; but he paid no heed and tried to silently have his slumber. The brumal temperature of the night never giving him a headache because his body heat was taking it nicely as it was also helping the heat that began to start from his chest up till the every end and nerves of his body; making him groan to himself when you've unintentionally whimpered to yourself when he'd rejected the idea of closing the windows.

The sound you make was making him crazy.

Also, the clothes he was wearing to sleep was making him crazier; even hotter than it was supposed to be.

"Geralt," he grabbed onto the pillows a little more tighter, drowning himself in the fluff of his pillow as you continued to disturb him because you somehow couldn't find your own sleep as well.

"Yoo-hoo~ Beefy Legolas?"

It went on and on. Your twists and turns also did as he finally had to tiredly grumble.

"Let me have my nap."

You were lucky your wound was given medicine because it wasn't hurting anymore. An elbow on the bed to support yourself as you peeked to see Geralt's shiny hair glimmering beneath the candle light. Tempting you to give care and probably spend a little time tugging at it as well. Those thoughts make you shake your head, clearing your throat as you asked the witcher with utmost purity lacing your tongue.

"Geralt, can I braid your hair while you sleep?"

"No."

"Did you bleach your hair then? You know, it’s like a way of coloring your hair and such---"

"No."

You softly huffed in disappointment, lower lip jutting out as you sighed from the energy and itch that you couldn't fight off, trying to see if he had his eyes opened but his burly form was making it difficult. You could only see his back and ivory hair, "Where's the gym? I mean, obviously you do go to a gym with that...build. Except, if you're given a serum like Captain America's..."

The latter lowly grunted in response; making your spine shiver from the sound as he does so. You've suddenly swallowed the saliva down your throat, wincing as you subtly held onto your chest; feeling it strangely grow a temperature hotter. You shake your head to try and ignore the uncomfortable feeling.

"You are talking in riddles that I couldn't comprehend, midget."

Geralt audibly sighed, turning his sturdy body to see you wide awake and innocently blinking back at the latter. Acting all guiltless like you weren't just trying to wake him up. He exhaled an exasperated breath; amber eyes glued to the ceiling with a grimace on his face.

"So, you're...awake?" you innocently stated the obvious, trying not to act guilty that you were anxious about a lot of things and your brain doesn't seem to cooperate with your body.

"How can I sleep when you keep tossing over and over," the latter rasped before languidly turning and facing front to you. His eyes searching for whatever was keeping you awake; pondering why your energy level was at the top. Totally too much for his wearied ones, "---I'm starting to regret why I offered you my bed," he gave a soft shake of his head as he comfortably dropped his head on his fluffy pillows, watching you drop yours at the same time. You've welcomed those golden peepers drilling with your emotions; setting fire to your insides, though you've never told anyone but yourself.

"I told you so. I have insomnia when my anxiety strikes like a bitch,"

Geralt had his eyebrows in a tight knot, "A what?"

"I can't sleep." you honestly told, breathing out your frustrations as you've felt the witcher's stare heavy on you, "It's just so...cold,"

He gave a small, tender smile. It was unconscious, the witcher didn't know if he even was smiling when he had hunches onto why you couldn't sleep. Based on how you were giving him bear hugs up all night when your fever went high, a leg on his robust ones; face nuzzled on his clothed, wooly chest; he knew you were a cuddler.

Howbeit, nobody also needed to know that he had his fingers raked in between your hair like the witcher was brushing it to make him sleep.

Like it was calming him down; making his breathing steady and at ease.

"You want something." he simply graveled, thoroughly amused.

"W-What?! No!"

Did he know what you were thinking? Especially those promiscuous ones? Or only the part where you wanted to be near him as you slept?

The latter scoffed, his smile turning crooked as you've seen those teeth eventually showing as he beamed, "I didn't thought naive midgets lie. I must say, your flaws are surprising."

Albeit, despite of how he was making your stomach flutter wildly; this brooding man gives you comfort in such a weird way.

Adoration was definitely a complex part in life that nobody can ever explain. A diversity in their world and also in yours.

"You need a hug." the witcher stated as a matter of fact, knowing that it was what you needed as you continued to fidget and tap on the mattress with your fingers.

"Maybe," pause. You've peered back at the man who kept giving your heart beat a difficult time; being drawn to his amber colored eyes, enraptured by his presence as you were caught in a spell that he could only give.

Only him and nobody else.

Geralt seemed to be a good listener and so, you've done the inevitable as he was the only person you've shared a bed with for all your life. Other than your mother when you were younger. He was the only man you've approved of having your personal space infiltrated.

"I had...stuff toys and a big pillow back in my home. It was the only thing I could hold for me to sleep. The only thing that can keep me company in a cold day," you started, shifting your eyes away from the witcher who was on the far end of the bed; waiting for you to continue like he always does, wanting to know what was inside your head.

Curiosity always leads to something else.

"---So, I must say that it helps with my anxiety and insomnia. Thinking that I have someone to hold; someone to protect me from all the sadness, rejection or disappointments that seem to love me throughout my life,"

"Are they beasts?" you glanced at the latter, studying him if it was a joke. But, all you see was a determined witcher who was patiently waiting if his guesses were correct.

"Anxiety and Insomnia?" Geralt gave a quiet hum as an answer.

"What? No. Definitely---Well, maybe. If you think of it that way. They keep your mind unstable and problematic. Fifty percent would want you thinking about things that should've been left forgotten. It ruins your sanity,"

"It is a beast then,"

You've given him a small smile, memorizing each curvature of his face; never wanting it to be forgotten. The way his eyes peer back at you in curiosity for whatever you wanted to say like hearing you talk was his entertainment and pleasure.

He'd watched you move closer, letting your curiosity get the better of you as you've felt his hot breath fanning your face in a way that could give you warmth in the midst of the brisk night; his windows never closed shut and feeling him closer than you can ever ask for was giving you the warmth you needed.

A warmth that could take those horrid thoughts away.

"Tell me your stories," you softly urged him on, his voice seeming to be soothing. The only ones that could pacify your jitters to shut down.

The witcher blinked, appearing to be off-guard but utmost compliant nevertheless, "About?"

"Your monsters. The ones you've slaughtered," you joyously smiled, your eyes turning crescent shapes as it felt as if it was the moon that was giving Geralt light to his night sky, "---It might be helpful if I want to become a game developer of something,"

"I've only shared stories with my horse,"

You placed your palms under your head, craning fully to see those eyes piercing through your soul; satisfying your cravings for having him close than you can ever wish for, "You mean, Roach? You talk to your horse?!" a soft exclamation was all it took for Geralt to give a short scoff.

"Merely, now because I have Jaskier and Cirilla. But, prior before they came around; I only had my horses to talk," pause. "---You wouldn't want me talking about how I hunt monsters, it'll bore you to death,"

You firmly shook your head to show him your will-power in hearing those interesting stories he had. A monster-slayer who had boring stories? You doubt. Just learning the back stories of a main character's game was interesting, no doubt that Geralt's stories would even get you gasping from all his slaughters, "I love all types of stories," you cordially whispered, eyes twinkling underneath the candle light as the witcher blinked back, "---Also have read ones that weren't of a penchant. Yet, I've grown to love them."

With little effort of bringing out the big guns, Geralt obediently complied. The deep baritone of his pitch lulling you into having your slumber. He'd talk about his latest hunts and quests; learning about monsters that you didn't know existed. Mostly deadly as some has taken him down and eventually lead him to being poisoned. You've frowned at that, but he'd reassured you that his scorching trials created him to be immune to any poison that was harmful to humans.

He was mutated after all and it made him more compelling.

Geralt has stopped his lullabies when he'd reach at the point where he had tried saving a town called Blaviken; quietly simmering down as you were suddenly perspiring like a dog in heat and heaving deep breaths.

"Midget." he firmly stated, studying your face when you've fluttered your eyes closed as you started listening to his stories. You've nestled closer to the witcher who had a wince on his face as he was perplexed by the sudden drops of sweat that was forming on your forehead. "---Are you alright?"

You gave a quiet chortle as you've felt his breath fanning your forehead, "Maybe,"

His medallion rested on your forehead, realizing that you were cuddling him a little too closely but the bear of a man didn't seem to care, "Your answers can always leave a person guessing," he grumbled more so to himself as you felt him shift on the mattress. Curious as to why his big, rough, calloused fingers were behind you; his hand that he has used to hold a sword and yield for those men to be butchered.

His hand that had magic was now raking through your hair, gently and slowly combing your hair as it was giving you succor and protection.

"You're not...uncomfortable?" you hesitatingly asked, voice smaller and quiet as his body was taking in your small form. The witcher had his eyes closed now; like he was in peace, "I've done far worse than to be scared of giving people hugs,"

"But, this is called cuddles and chill because you're hugging and talking me to sleep,"

"Is that what it is now? Is that what its called in your kingdom?" you've heard him tease, his lips curved in a way that tells you he was poking fun at your modern references that he certainly didn't know.

His fingers continued its ministrations; how gentle he was made your heart beat drum so loud that you could hear them ringing in your ears and you were sure Geralt could be hearing it. You gawked back at the latter, "It won't be called Netflix and Chill because I swear it has a different meaning and---"

Geralt quickly cut you off, abruptly opening his eyes to give you a compassionate look in his eyes, "Cuddles and chill it is, then." you've bit your lip in an attempt to shut your mouth.

"---Sleep, midget." the once brooding witcher demanded before giving your spine a satisfying shiver as his thick fingers raked on the hairs of your nape as he patiently untangled those locks away, "Those beastly creatures you have won't slaughter you while I'm around,"

Inside both of your chests, there was still that insatiable feeling that you couldn't comprehend. However, the fire dissipating an ounce by the tiny bit of wholesome intimacy you've gotten; was just the rattles of one's cage because there was always more.

More and more you'll be willing to take.

Hence, It was a full moon and wolves howl whenever the moon shines bright against the brumal, cold nights as a cicatrix began to shine which has rested in between the valley of your breasts.

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