Tumgik
#but still I’m allowed to have preferences
hobbylobbyy · 22 hours
Note
Okay! How about a Lucifer x male (or gn if you’re more comfortable) reader in a platonic fic? Reader is like a servant who helps Lucifer through depresso days
A/N: This sounds like a really nice friendship dynamic, I’m rlly happy I get to write it!
Also btw you’re an imp for the sake of not knowing what a duck is
Tumblr media
Coping Methods
Summary: It’s been a few months since Lilith left Lucifer and he’s been taking it about as well as you think he would. He can barely get out of bed until you manage to coax him into a fun activity to ease his mind.
Platonic Lucifer x Male!Reader
Tumblr media
Nobody expected Lilith to leave. Maybe that’s what made it worse when she did.
She didn’t leave anything behind either, not her clothes, not her shoes, not even a single letter.
Every being in that castle fell into a deep depression, it just felt so gloomy without her there. Though, it hit the Morningstar’s the hardest.
Charlie had moved out nearly a month after Lilith’s disappearance, claiming she wanted to find herself and have her own independence rather than rely on her father for the rest of her life.
Lucifer, however, barely even left the castle, let alone his own room. Very few people were allowed near him at the time, only his personal servants, and you just happened to be one of them.
Today was one of those days where Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to get out of bed, so you found yourself outside his door, hesitating to knock.
You couldn’t deny that you were terrified, but you had to make sure the king was okay, it was your duty as one of his personal servants.
You took a moment to collect yourself before knocking a few times.
It took a moment before he answered, “Who is it..?” The way he sounded so fragile almost broke apart of you, not once in your thousands of years of working for him have you heard him sound so vulnerable.
“It’s me, sir.” You replied, twiddling with your thumbs.
The door creaked open with a blur of golden magic, no doubt his own.
You stepped in and closed the door behind you, knowing that he’d prefer if nobody saw him in this state.
“Why are you here?” He asked, not looking at you as he curled into a ball on his humongous bed.
“Nobody has seen or heard from you all day, sir,” You started, making your way over to the edge of his bed but not daring to step any closer, both out of respect for him and fear for your safety, “We needed to know that you were still alive.”
“Alright, well, you’ve seen it now, haven’t you?” He asked rhetorically, “Just leave and take the day off for all I care, I-I just want to sit here for a little bit.”
“Sir..” You started, keeping your voice firm, “As your servant, I respect all your wishes, but as your friend… I will have to deny you this one.”
Before he could respond, you continued going, “In fact, I’m going to have to request that you stand up for me” you knew you were definitely going to get in trouble for this, whether by him or by one of your superiors.
“A-Are you trying to command the king of hell?” He asked, “You are nothing but my servant, I.. I don’t have many friends right now..”
You weren’t going to stop so soon though, your persistence was what got you this job in the first place, “Sir, I’m not trying to command you, I am just asking that you at least sit up and look at me”
It took him a second but he groaned in defeat as if he was a small child. He sat up, letting you see just how much he’d been crying. His hair which was usually neat was now a mess of curls and his face seemed redder than usual.
“I’ve done what you asked.. Is this all you wanted?” He asked.
“No, I actually wanted to request that you.. Uhm…” You had to think of an excuse for what you wanted to do first, “Could you accompany me to your workshop for a moment..? This is the only time I’ll ask you to do this, I just… N-Need to know where you’d like everything to go so I can clean!”
You commended yourself for being quick to think of an excuse, you knew how much the king liked his neatness.
“…There’s no need to clean it” Well, that stunned you.
“S-Sir?” You stuttered, “It definitely needs to be cleaned, just.. please?”
“I already know where everything is, just leave it be” Lucifer waved his hand dismissively before flopping back onto his bed, gripping a nearby pillow.
Well this won’t do. You needed him to get out of his bed. You needed him to actually do something.
“Sir, please, just accompany me to the workshop and I’ll leave you alone” You pleaded.
He sat still for a moment before shifting his head towards you, “…You’ll leave me alone for the rest of the week if I accompany you, do you hear me..?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir! I-I can totally do that!” Not only did it give you an excuse to just do nothing for the rest of the week, your plan might actually work.
“Alright, just let me get ready first” He yawned as he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed.
You quickly left the room for his privacy, as much as you loved your gracious king, you didn’t love him that much.
He left the room almost immediately, not having bothered to clean up his hair or the bags under his eyes. He knew that nobody in their right mind would point it out anyway.
“Just so you know.. I’m going to leave as soon as you’re done in there” Lucifer said.
“That’s alright with me, sir,” You flash a grin, “I’m just glad you got out of that messy room of yours”
“Watch it.” He rolls his eyes.
You chuckle softly as you approach his workshop, but you’re surprised once you open its doors.
The workshop that was usually a mess with his inventions and dreams and even dioramas of his theme park was now barren, only holding the pictures on the walls and his work bench.
“Wow, would you look at that..” Lucifer started, “Guess you don’t need me anymore, I mean, no mess to clean up!”
But you’re not gonna let him off the hook so easily.
“Uh, sir?” You smirked, “Could you at least spare me one request before I stop bothering you for the week?”
Lucifer groaned childishly, obviously not wanting to spend another moment out of the bed that he once shared with his love.
“Fine, fine, I guess it’s the least I could do since you so desperately wanted me over here” He conceded, walking with you to his workbench.
“So, what do you want?” He asked.
You grinned before pulling out some supplies from your pockets, “So, you know how made that thing on Earth before you fell? What was it called… Cuck..? I-I don’t know, but it made that quacking noise”
“A duck?” Lucifer cut you off.
“Ah, precisely!” You nodded.
“What.. What does that have anything to do with this?” He asked.
“Well, Mr. Lucifer, my request is that..” You paused for dramatic effect, “You recreate that! I wanna see what it looks like, and you seem to have pride in the fact that you made them, so maybe it’ll make you feel better!”
Lucifer paused for a moment before laughing. It might’ve been aimed at you rather than with you, but you’d gotten him to laugh at least.
“A-I’m sorry- Is that really all that you want me to do? Make a duck?” He said as the laughter died down.
“Yup! That’s what I want!” You nodded, making him chuckle once more.
“Alright, alright, fine” He sighed, “I’ll make you a duck, but then you let me wallow in self-pity, mkay?”
“Sounds fair!” You responded.
He didn’t say anything back to you as he started to work. You could see sparks flying as he melded metal together, shaping it into the form of a small creature.
“Pass me my yellow paint, would you?” He asked, pointing in the direction of his paints.
You hummed, grabbing his yellow paint for him and setting it down next to him on the table.
“Oh, and the black paint too” He said.
You huffed, “Couldn’t have told me that while I was getting the yellow?” But you got it for him regardless, wrapping your tail around it and ignoring the cold paint as it splashed on you when you brought it over.
He didn’t respond, too focused on painting it perfectly.
Then, the sparks and painting stopped, he smiled softly at his little creation.
“Here it is,” He said, picking it up with gentle hands, “This is what a duck looks like”
You looked at it in awe. It looked so.. cute. It looked so different from all the life in Hell, like it didn’t pose any threats at all.
You took a moment before nodding, “Alright, that’s uh… All I wanted” you smiled before standing up.
“I’ll lead you back to your room and you won’t have to worry about me for the rest of the week” You continued to speak before he cut you off.
“Actually…” He said, “Stay, I think I might need your help grabbing supplies for me while I make some more of these”
You took a moment to process what he said before your eyes lit up with excitement, “Really?!” You had actually been successful in getting the king to enjoy something!
“Really” He chuckled.
Tumblr media
A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations. I noticed too late that the reader doesn’t really have a gender specified but I guess that just means you can depict them however you want to!
Tumblr media
Look at him :)
46 notes · View notes
audrinui · 1 day
Text
no friends in the industry.
Tumblr media
she's my collar. chapter six.
synopsis. familiar faces meet finally, and old friends become new enemies.
characters. bonten. chifuyu matsuno. kazutora hanemiya.
contains. this chapter focuses mainly on plot progression! threats of violence. some fluff. yes i changed the name of xjland. arguably ooc kazutora. a lot of pov changes.
disclaimer. the events depicted in this are works of fiction and are in no way, shape, or form glorifying or promoting them. this is not suitable for children. this work is for those 18 years of age and older.
Tumblr media
It’s been years since Mikey’s been on this side of town. This side is more…reputable. Domestic, if you’d prefer to call it that. Lined with quaint little eateries, longstanding book shops and music stores, it’s not a side of town that Mikey belonged in. His Bentley Bentayga stood out painfully against the backdrop of children running around chasing behind basketballs and frisbees, but none of the executives cared very much. With him he carried Sanzu, Ran, and Rindou. The others were off doing other tasks he’d issued them, Kakucho still occupying your time so at least he didn’t have you to worry about.
Briefly he wonders if you’d like to show him the things you bought after this. Something about the thought of you mindlessly babbling about shoes and shirts while he sits back in his office chair, half full glass of whiskey on ice in hand, dark eyes taking in your movements while his ears barely register the words you say calms him. Allows him to step out of the vehicle with a neutral look on his face, allows him to enter the pet shop without immediately making a beeline towards his current prime suspect and snap his neck in a blind, likely misguided fit of rage.
He’d think about your affect on him later. There were more important issues at hand.
The bell at the top of the door jingles, and in walks the four men. Luckily the store is seemingly quiet- aside from the barking and mewling of cats and dogs out back, smaller pets line the walls out front alongside arrays of treats, toys, and pet care. Mikey takes his time, shoving spindly fingers into his dark pockets, allowing sweaty tips to dry off against the expensive fabric. He blankly looks over the pets as he makes his way through the aisles, dark eyes trailing over the small animals, smiling at the little ones that look up at him curiously. He wonders if you’d like a pet; were you more of a dog or a cat person? Perhaps a rabbit? Maybe a hamster?
He doesn’t realize he defaults to thinking of you when he’s nervous until he hears a voice he didn’t think he’d hear again. The thought of your surprised expression at being presented with a bunny is enough to keep him grounded long enough to respond to the voice.
“Welcome to Redemption Pet Store! Are you just browsing or are you looking for anything specific?”
Redemption. He wonders which one of them came up with that name.
“Actually,” Mikey keeps his expression controlled and mentally braces himself to face the man he hasn’t seen since he was a kid. Since he got courted off to juvy, or jail, whichever it was, he hadn’t seen this man or heard much about him. Mikey didn’t even keep tabs on his old friends anymore, doing his best to allow them to live happily and freely without him. That was his full intent this whole time, not to drag anyone down in his world any longer, but apparently sometimes you couldn’t help the inevitable. Some people found their way back no matter how much you pushed them away.
Mikey turns his head, onyx irises finally meeting gold. He wishes the way bitter recognition immediately floods over his old friends’ face didn’t make some part of his cold heart ache. The black and blonde haired man’s smile falls, and with it, the corners of Mikey’s lips twitch up politely.
“Hi, Kazu. I’m looking for Chifuyu. Could you go get him for me?”
Mikey thinks if he told Kazutora he was here to kill them both the other man would’ve had a less terrified reaction. Kazutora blinks, examinine Mikey, wide eyes flickering back to the three brooding, suited men behind him. He distantly remembers them from his youth- the Haitani’s specifically. They’re dangerous, all of them are. And they’re running with Mikey now, the most nefarious man in the entire country. Who now stood in his pet shop asking for his best friend. Kazutora blinks, and then his eyes dart back to Mikey and he swallows.
“You better not-” His heart starts to slam against his chest anxiety welling beneath his pale skin. “W-What do you want with ‘Fuyu? He’s not- you better not hurt him-”
“Does it look like I’ve come to hurt anyone?” Mikey cuts him off with a clipped tone, and just like in Kazutora’s Toman days, he seals his mouth shut and gapes at the younger man. It’s amazing how influential Mikey was, to still have such a terrifying grip on those around him even if it’s been years since he’d last seen them. “I want to talk to him, that’s all. I have something to ask. Go get him for me.”
The tone of finality has the elder man turning on his heel to fetch the other owner. Mikey takes a moment to reel his thoughts in. His heels press into the soft soles of his sandals, shoulders slumping with a sigh. His eyes just roam over the small litter of puppies mewling in the corner, stumbling around the little display pen, when he hears a door shuffle closed followed by a set of footsteps. His ears perk up, shoulders rolling, pleased when he finds that the footsteps are a single set. Kazutora had enough sense not to come behind Chifuyu. Good boy.
A head of cropped black hair enters Mikey’s vision, with eyebrows slanted inwards and the tinge of a weary frown on his face. Mikey doesn’t allow the yearning of seeing his old executive and close friend to settle in, neutralizing his emotions immediately, allowing the hollowness to seep in.
“Mikey?” Chifuyu’s eyes dart between Mikey and his executives. “What are you… doing here?”
“Looking for you.” The shorter man says simply. Chifuyu blinks, full focus now on his friend. “It’s been a long time, Chifuyu.”
The dark haired man’s jaw twitches. “What do you want, Mikey?” His words come out a little strained, forced through gritted teeth. Mikey pays no mind, allowing himself to return to perusing the pets that tumble over each other in their pens. Sanzu, on the other hand, allows himself to raise an eyebrow. His hands remain stuffed into his coat, but gloved fingers tap against the detailed handle of his favorite dagger. All Mikey has to do is say the word. Maybe Chifuyu wouldn’t have a tongue to hiss at anyone again after Sanzu was done with him.
“A chat.” The blonde continues. He starts to walk slowly and Chifuyu makes way for him, briefly glancing at the three men that trail him. They look uninterested but he notices how Sanzu glances at Chifuyu on occasion. Chifuyu swallows at the growing lump in his throat before turning to his old friend. “Chat about what?”
“Do you still read those shōjo mangas?” Mikey doesn’t have to turn around to see the look on Chifuyu’s face. His beet red cheeks and wide eyes have been imprinted in Mikey’s mind since they were kids and they teased him about it. “You always gravitated towards the ones that made the man the hero.”
“Did you just come here to insult me, Mikey?” Chifuyu’s hands clench and unclench at his sides. “What, you don’t have anything better to do so you bully your old friends?”
“Watch your tone, pretty boy.” Sanzu says with faux casualty. The handle of the switchblade feels warm through his gloves. He turns to shoot Chifuyu a smile, scarred corners thinning and stretching as perfect, pearly white teeth show forth. “Unless you want to match scars with me.”
Mikey doesn’t allow Chifuyu to open his mouth again. “Do you still have that hero complex, ‘Fuyu?” The black haired man’s gaze snaps to Mikey at the sound of the old nickname. “Still want to be someone’s savior?”
It’s bitter. The words hang in the air for a moment, heavy implications intact. Memories shared between the two men drift to the forefront of their minds without consent, plaguing them with brief flashes, recollection of their youth. Images of their times together, of their lives together, of the circumstances that broke their friendships to pieces. Times when Chifuyu tried to feed his heroism, tried to satiate his need to save his friend, but the opposite happened. When Mikey refused his help and fell deeper into his self-actualized abyss.
“When are you going to realize that you can’t save anyone, Chifuyu?”
The heaviness that falls between them is thick, thick enough that the brothers behind them share a look and Sanzu’s head tilts to the side slightly in curiosity. He wonders what the other man will do, carefully watching his movements.
Chifuyu’s hands twitch. They clench into a fist, knuckles whitening rapidly, shaking under the strength of his hold to the point where thin veins pop out against his skin. He blinks as the pressure of blood rush in his ears. For a second the old anger he had flares up, the anger that boiled for years after Mikey left, rage that accumulated as a result of loss, guilt, shame, and betrayal. It’s anger that he can’t afford to unleash, not not when he’d be overpowered so easily. It’d be his final death sentence, one he couldn’t come back from this time. So, instead, he swallows.
“What do you want, Mikey?”
Mikey ponders for a moment. What did he want? Well, that was a loaded question with answers that Mikey knew Chifuyu didn’t have. He wanted lots of things. But, at this very moment, he wanted Chifuyu to remain alive.
“There’s a girl.” Mikey begins, turning to the display case filled with puppies. He stretches his hand down, allowing the small animals to lick and nip at his fingertips. “She has a tattoo on her back. You know her.”
Chifuyu’s mind immediately runs to you. He can’t, and doesn’t bother to hide away the alarm that enters his voice. “Don’t touch her. What are you trying to do with-”
Mikey doesn’t bother hearing the man out. “Stay away from her, Matsuno.”
Chifuyu doubles back. Matsu- Who the fuck- “Excuse me?”
“I didn’t stutter.” Mikey’s hint of a smile is gone now. He doesn’t pull away from the animals but he doesn’t have to, ice frosting over the brittle darkness of his voice. “Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you. I won’t hesitate to have you killed if you don’t follow instructions.”
Chifuyu’s jaw tightens. His lips curl into his mouth for a second, one testing second, before his fists flex and he’s snapping his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “You don’t have a say in what I do in my free fucking time, Manjiro-”
His words cut short immediately, as does his breathing. He locks it in his chest and it stays there, the rise of his diaphragm stopping mid inhale. His jaw snaps shut and twitches again but his eyes follow suit. A smart decision on his part, Sanzu thinks, pressing the flat, cool blade of his dagger into the soft junction between Chifuyu’s neck and jaw. The pinkette leans down, long painted fingers wrapped around the front of the smaller man’s neck. He leans down to his ear, minty breath hitting against the red-tinged hull, pulling Chifuyu’s body into his chest.
“You don’t listen very well do you?” Sanzu hums. “Or do you have the memory retention of a fucking pigeon? I said to watch your goddamn mouth, you fucking mutt.”
“God, don’t kill him in front of the kittens. They’re too innocent for this.” Ran laments, a dry sentiment that falls on deaf ears. Chifuyu opens his eyes reluctantly, in time to see Mikey pull away from the pen. He wipes his hand on a rag hung over the edge of the case, turning on his heel and slowly walking towards Chifuyu.
“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” Mikey’s eyes are hardened over with a depth no one can wade through. “Stay away from her. Stay away from her apartment. Stay out of her life. Anybody asks you about her, tell them you never saw her. If you want to be somebody’s hero so bad, then be her hero and leave her alone.”
There’s a tense moment shared between the two men. Hard, steeled over eyes that stare one into another, set jaws and stony faces. Mikey’s words are oaths, promises. His visit to Chifuyu was that of mercy- Chifuyu has no doubt that had he been anyone else, Mikey wouldn’t have bothered letting the man off with a warning. There’s a glimmer of the man he once knew swimming down in the depths of Mikey’s heart, some innate consciousness that Chifuyu should be appreciative of- it was the only reason Sanzu didn’t get the order to see how dark Chifuyu’s blood ran yet. But there’s also something else, another emotion seemingly foreign to Mikey, something he doesn’t think he’s ever witnessed on the man in all their twenty-something odd years of living.
That emotion causes Chifuyu’s blood to boil darkly, pinning his mouth shut while Mikey has the audacity to offer him something resembling a smile. “It looks like you’ve understood. We’ll be leaving now.”
Sanzu retracts his blade, pressing it shut and throwing it back in his pocket. “Good boy. I wasn’t planning on ruining my suit this early anyways.”
“Say hello to Kazutora again for me, ‘Fuyu.” Mikey calls out as he departs. He walks out casually, hands still in his pockets, dead eyes still unmoved and unshaken. But he’d be a fool if he didn’t notice the look in Chifuyu’s eyes back there. Chifuyu liked you, and something about that revelation made Mikey’s rage simmer more than the prospect of simply being acquainted with you.
He swallows down the poisonous feeling of jealousy when they cross back into the car, Sanzu taking over the driver’s seat, the Haitani’s filing into the back. “That went well.” Rindou hums, rapping his blunt nails on the arm rest. “Think he got the message?”
“If he’s smart he did.” Ran remarks. “Think he’s smart?”
Sanzu snorts dryly, switching the car on. One hand wraps around the steering wheel, the other arm propping itself on the windowsill, thumb and index coming to cup his chin. “Think he’s stupid enough to pretend he isn’t.”
“Keep eyes on him.” Mikey says, eyes unfocused and hazed over in thought. “Track his phone. He may try something.”
“Yes, sir.” Ran’s on his phone immediately, contacting whomever to complete Mikey’s orders. Sanzu glances at Mikey briefly before returning to the road, the questions and opinions left to fester on his tongue until they got back to the office.
Tumblr media
When they do arrive at the building, everybody breaks off into their tasks for the day. Mikey returns to his office and Sanzu follows, the Haitani’s going off to deal with tracking Chifuyu. Sanzu trails after his boss, eyebrows just barely pinched inwards. He waits until Mikey settles into his chair, both of them completing the usual ritual after an outing: Sanzu shutting the door and immediately crossing over to the marble counter on the opposite wall, plopping one singular large cube of ice from Mikey’s mini fridge into an awaiting class, pouring Mikey his whiskey and placing it in front of him. He waits, moving back over to close the expensive bottle shut, waiting until the cup drags lightly against the wooden table, an indication that Mikey’s picked it up.
“Forgive me for asking, Mikey, but are you alright?”
The shorter man raises an eyebrow, cup grazing his lip. “Why do you ask?”
“Because,” Sanzu pauses, placing the bottle down. “I haven’t seen you that serious in years. You don’t get worked up over much any more, but I almost thought you’d take the knife away from me and finish him off yourself.”
Mikey takes a long moment before he responds. He blinks, cold glass gently pressing against his lips, and he takes the second to sip at the cool, strong liquid. Pink muscle runs along the bottom lip as he finishes, pulls away, and swirls the liquid around in the glass. His eyes still seem distant, deep in thought. “Maybe I would’ve.”
Sanzu crosses his arms and leans against the counter. “Because of the girl?”
Another moment. Another sip. Ice clinks against the walls of the glass. “Because of the girl.”
“This is unlike you, Mikey. You’re not one to get beside yourself, especially not that easily.” Mikey’s sipping again, ignoring the burn of the drink. His face twists by impulse as he sets the glass down. “You don’t lose yourself easily anymore.”
“I know,” He sighs. “But she just…” He takes a moment to find the correct words to say, but in the end, he feels almost juvenile in his explanation.
“I don’t know. There’s something…different about her. I can’t explain it.” Mikey blinks. “It’s scary, almost. The things she does to me without even trying.”
Sanzu studies the man sitting in front of him. “Is it that you like her?”
Mikey takes another moment.
“There’s a possibility.”
Mikey’s heavy office door opens and in steps the topic of their conversation. You, trailed by Kakucho, different sized bags from every department and designer store you could think of carried in both your hands (moreso Kakucho’s- Mikey didn’t anticipate he’d let you lug all that up here on your own). There’s a wild look in your eyes, carefree and exhilarated, glinting with your signature charm that brings ease to Mikey’s shoulders. He finds the right corner of his mouth softly moving upwards at the sight of you.
“We’re back.” Kakucho breathes out with a sigh. “Never going to the strip again in my life.”
“You’re just upset that the old lady wouldn’t rest until you gave her your number.” There’s light in your voice that Mikey wishes to hear more of. Your eyes trail between the two men and a small pout forms on your delicate lips. “O-oh, was I…interrupting something?”
Sanzu speaks up immediately, pushing off of the counter. “No, not at all. I was just about to leave actually.” He excuses himself without a word, and Mikey turns to address Kakucho.
“I take it everything went well?” It’s unspoken. He wants to know if there’s anything he should be alerted about. Thankfully, Kakucho nods without jagged hesitation. Mikey hums. “Good. Thank you, Kaku. You can leave us alone now.”
And then there were two.
Mikey’s gaze is heavy. You find yourself shuffling from heel to heel, silently praying one of the stilettos doesn’t give out and send you toppling over to the ground. He takes your now bashful presence in slowly. His eyes roam over your figure, over the pretty white milkmaid top and flared jeans that accentuated your body. He makes a mental note to purchase more of those shirts, finding that he liked them on you a bit much.
“Did you have fun?” Mikey asks, pleased at the way you look up at him through your lashes. You bite the inside of your jaw, glossed lips pushing out softly. “Mhm,” You hum, and then you’re gasping and patting over your pockets. “Oh! Before I forget!” He watches, two fingers sliding into your back pocket. You’re walking towards him, heels clicking soft against the floor, and he’s watching you like his own personal divinity, shining when you stand close and hold your hand out. There’s his card, placed between your fingers, and Mikey’s slightly confused why he likes this sight so much.
“Your card.” You breathe, other hand swiping against the side of your jeans. “Thanks, again. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, taking the card away from you. He tests the weight of the words forming on his tongue for a moment, and then he’s acting on his impulse. “But,” he begins. You stand still, frozen, adrenaline making your skin buzz in anticipation as you watch his actions. He doesn’t make a move to put it in his wallet, instead reaching around your waist. You feel his fingers brush against your hips and you gasp shortly in surprise when you feel his thumb press into your back, feeling of the square plastic sliding back into the pocket you just pulled it out of. Your eyes trail up and you meet him already staring up at you, studying your reaction tenaciously. Both of you fail to remember the importance of breathing, too wrapped into the splendour of each other and the delicacy of the moment to care.
“Keep it. You probably have better use for it than I do.”
Your heart thumps wildly against your chest. He tries to ignore the way the swell of your breasts visible over the cut of your top bounces gently. You blink, breathing out, “Think so?”
“Yeah.” He says softly, automatically. “You do.”
And Mikey’s pleased again when you don’t fight against him, instead just nodding without complaint. “Okay.”
He wishes he didn’t like you as much as he was beginning to.
Tumblr media
The executives of the Blood Angels wearily glance down at Hiroto, each man wearing their concern hardened on their faces in different ways. Most didn’t know what they were more concerned about; their vice being trapped, bedridden for the time being, or Hiroto’s reaction to the news of it all. Possibly the latter, because for once, the loud, buff, burly, brooding man was silent. Unmoving since he got the news, sat at his desk with hardened, unreadable eyes staring down at his rings. Fat fingers twitch, the first movement he’s made in hours, and all the men in the room share a collective look before looking back at him. He inhales deeply, dark, and then comes his voice, low with bass that rumbles through every eardrum in his proximity, sinking into the dark walls of the conference room.
“Bonten.” He says. The other men make no move to question him, waiting until he speaks again to provide context. He takes a moment, a slow-moving, tense moment, before a dry chuckle just barely sounds low in the room. “Message received.”
“A-Are we-” Takuya, his number three, clears his throat. “What’s our next move, sir? They know our original plan, there isn’t much we can do.”
The advisor, Yamagishi, agrees. He pushes his rimmed glasses up his nose and opens the folder sat in front of him. “Chonbo was forced to tell them everything he knows. They know that we planned to advance on either Hanma or Mikey himself- Bonten’s guard is up now, there’s no crossing that barrier. Finding Hanma is like finding an urban legend, no one’s heard from him in years.” Yamagishi licks his lips. “I think it would be wise to lie low while Chonbo is in recovery. That way, we can move in when Bonten’s guard is down. In the meantime we gather intel and-”
“No.”
Yamagishi blinks, scorching ice running over his neck. He glances wearily at his superior. “No?”
“No.” Hiroto shakes his head. His hands, previously steepled, curl over each other. He presses down the knuckles of the left hand until they crack in unison. “We’re not waiting for Chonbo to recover. He’s not going to recover.”
“What do you mean he’s not-”
“Chonbo is a traitor now.” He says simply, stress of anger laced in his tone. “He gave away our information to a known enemy- willingly, at that. He’s no longer a Blood Angel.”
There’s an implication in his tone that makes the breaths of the executives hitch. Akkun is the one who dares to speak. “Boss, you’re going to kill Chonbo?”
The larger man’s eyes trail to Kita. He’s silent, and then he speaks. “Yes.”
It’s easy to forget just how cutthroat the life they chose to lead was. You spend so much time with people, so much time around your colleagues that you forget the vow you made. Your life was sealed away with uncertainty, and those who forgot their promises were reminded in the harshest ways. Glamour was paid for by blood, and those who forgot their place would be reminded of their fate. An air of somberness fell over the room, the veil of invincibility pulled away. At the very core of any gang there was one common rule, one rule that nobody could run away from.
Traitors must pay.
“Chonbo’s of no use to us now.” Hiroto begins. His hardened gaze is steeled over, unreadable to any emotion behind them. He looks over his team, his colleagues, and a piece of his heart aches. But Hiroto’s a leader first, and leaders don’t get that title being lenient with the rules they hold in high regard. However, Chonbo was one of them. Most importantly, his best friend, done an injustice by an enemy that’d caused him so much trouble over the past few days. So, Hiroto presses on. “But his death won’t be in vain. We’ll avenge him.”
The words make everyone’s heads lift. Hiroto’s tone remains steady and firm, and more importantly, sure. “Bonten’s forced our hand. I wanted to be political, deal with this like men, but they’ve forced our lead. So, we’ll give them what they want. Starting with the girl.”
“How do you plan to do that?” Yamagishi’s eyebrows pinch. “The girl’s untouchable.”
Kiyomasa huffs from the opposite side of the table, pushing the butt of his cigar into an ashtray. “Do we still have eyes on her?”
Takuya leans back into his chair, crossing tattooed arms over his chest. “Our men have been combing surveillance on every camera within city limits, nothing yet.”
“She’ll show.” Hiroto hums. “She’s a woman, she has needs. Not to mention she has no business in Bonten prospects- they’ll have to let her out of whatever facility she’s in at some point. Keep searching. But we have another outlet, someone else we can use to get to her.”
At this, every man in the room raises an eyebrow, curiosities peaked collectively. “Who?”
Hiroto presses his left hand into the knuckles of the right,flexing downwards until a satisfying crack rings in the room. His eyes stare straight ahead, still unreadable, masking thought that swarms his flooded brain. His eyebrow twitches for a split second, and then, a smirk slowly pulls on the right corner of his face.
Tumblr media
“Chifuyu?”
Chifuyu paces around the back room of the pet shop restlessly. His hands shake- really, his whole body shakes. In fear, in fury, Kazutora assumes a mix of both. The streaked blonde looks at his best friend wearily, unease settling in the pit of his stomach. His mouth goes dry and he has to swallow at his throat when Chifuyu finally opens his mouth to speak.
“The fucking audacity of him. The fucking audacity of him!” Kazutora flinches when Chifuyu’s voice raises, but the latter doesn’t notice. “He- he’s selfish, so fucking selfish, still only concerned about what he wants and nothing else. It’s insane! It’s like he never fucking grew up.”
A lithe, bony hand comes up to rub at the back of Kazutora’s neck. “M-maybe you should listen to him, ‘Fuyu. He’s not…” He pauses. “Not the Mikey we used to know.” Inwardly, he flinches. Of course it’s a revelation he’s come to terms with over the years, but the shock of coming out of juvy to find your friend group and gang you’d run with for years disbanded because of it’s leader’s selfishness would never really wear away. Moreso, Kazutora learned to become accustomed to it. Didn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when he’s faced with that cold reality, such as now. Chifuyu scoffs bitterly, running his hand over the sides of his mouth, dragging it down his chin.
“You think I don’t know that by now, Kazu?” He spits out with a cold laugh. “Fucker came in my store like he owns the goddamn place. Him, and that pink haired fuck of a lapdog he’s got running after him.”
Chifuyu seethes to himself when he thinks of Sanzu holding that blade to his chin again. Kazutora, who’d seen the entire ordeal over the cameras, swallows before he speaks again. “Just- whoever she is, ‘Fuyu, leave her alone. She’s not worth this.”
Not worth this? First of all, Chifuyu’s confused as to how you’d even gotten mixed up with the likes of Bonten. With the likes of him. He’s shaking his head absentmindedly, bright eyes steeling over by the second. “No, I can’t. I can’t let him have her. She’s- she’s mine, not his, he can’t just take what’s mine and expect me to lie down like some dog and let him.”
He’s burning inside. What was Mikey’s business with you? Chifuyu was sure it wasn’t something Bonten related, not by the way Mikey was reacting. Or maybe it was. Maybe that tattoo had finally gotten you in the trouble he knew it’d get you in. He thought the extent of your issues would just be with Hiroto. Hiroto, Chifuyu could deal with. He’d talked to Hiroto with full intentions to divert his attention until Chifuyu could get his hands on him and end that man’s petty life himself. Truth be told, if Hiroto was a problem for Bonten, had Mikey waited another day or so he wouldn’t have been an issue anymore. Chifuyu was secretly plotting ever since he’d learned about the raid on your apartment the day before. He’d find out who you found refuge in after the imminent threat was rid of.
But now, now Hiroto wasn’t much of a threat anymore. An opportunity, maybe. A means to an end. What was it that Mikey wanted with you? Was it possible that Mikey felt the same way about you that Chifuyu did, too? It was unlikely- this was Mikey. Mikey, who’d never been in a romantic relationship in his life, who lost his ability to care about anyone except himself. He wouldn’t- he couldn’t suddenly care for you. He didn’t have the emotional intelligence or mental capacity to handle something as complex as feelings for another person.
But there was that look in his eyes. That tense, heavy, warning look, accompanied by the same tension in his voice. Tension that didn’t appear in a man who cared for a woman. Mikey saw Chifuyu’s fight, understood the reasoning behind Chifuyu’s actions, and challenged it. That’s not something someone does unless they feel the same way.
He fishes his phone out of his pocket and blindly dials the number that called him the day prior- your number. It doesn’t even ring, shrill notes of the dial tone flooding the speaker, automated message soon after. The number you have dialed is out of service. He starts to see red.
Mikey likes you. The revelation makes Chifuyu’s blood boil hot underneath his skin. He’s livid. Mikey likes you too. And you belong to Chifuyu.
“‘Fuyu?” Kazutora blinks, watching the other man dial another number. “What are you doing?”
“Calling someone.” Chifuyu rubs his chin. “Someone who can help fix this.”
“What?” Kazutora’s brows furrow. “Did you not- Mikey told you to back off.”
“I know that, Kazu. Mikey can kiss my ass.”
“‘Fuyu, you could get killed.”
There’s desperation in Kazutora’s voice. Surely Chifuyu wouldn’t throw his life away like this, right? Mikey wasn’t forgiving- in a way, he never really was, he just opted to move past it. He’s unhinged now, he operates with reckless abandon and null of care for the people he once knew. He’d kill Chifuyu. He would actually kill the man. Hadn’t they been through enough?
Chifuyu sucks in a breath. He knows this, of course he knows this. But he was tired of allowing Mikey to walk all over whoever he pleased. Tired of letting him have his way. Tired of failing when he should keep fighting. Tired of losing to the likes of Mikey.
“I know.” His voice is shaky but determined. He doesn’t make a move to hang up the phone. After two, three, four rings, the voice on the other end of the line picks up. “Hello?”
“Hiroto.” Chifuyu breathes out. “I have some information you’ll be interested in.”
Kazutora’s heart drops. Hiroto, on the other end of the line, raises an eyebrow. Chifuyu’s timing is impeccable, Hiroto still sat in the conference room with his executives, having mentioned the man’s name not too long ago. “Oh, really? About who?”
Chifuyu seals his fate with his next words.
“About the girl.”
Tumblr media
Mikey retreats from your body slowly. His thumb twitches; he’s eager to wrap his hand around your waist, feel the warm skin under the hem of your shirt. But that’s inappropriate for this moment. He’d tested his luck long enough.
“I have,” He glances down at the way you shiver. Was it from the temperature of his office or from him? He forced himself not to dwell on it for long. “I have some work to finish up, so someone else will be taking care of you today.”
Your hands come up to rub your arms, goosebumps rising under your sleeves. Mikey’s fingertips ghost at your sides and your toes curl in your sandals. “Someone..else?”
“Yes.” He says, and suddenly you’re reminded of your circumstances. You were harbored as evidence of something, not because the powerful man sat in front of you liked you. The thought is enough to pull you back down to earth from your cotton dreams and fantasies, prompting you to hold your arms closer to yourself. Mikey’s attention turns towards his desk, far too many folders and papers littering the dark wood. “Takeomi and Amara will be here for you shortly.”
Takeomi and Amara. Briefly, images of the two cross your mind. Takeomi, the tall man with blonde streaking both sides of his head who spoke to you in gentle tones, and Amara, the woman who ripped into you, only to treat you with the same gentleness when her findings deemed you innocent. Suddenly you’re aware of the mark on your back again, and subconsciously a hand twitches, moving up your arm to rest near its residence. “Did you…the tattoo..” You pause for a moment to find your words. “Is it…what’s it so important for?”
Mikey ponders for a moment. He could go into depth, tell you things you’d have a hard time believing, but there’s no use for that. You weren’t a part of Bonten. You weren’t gang affiliated, at that. His business had nothing to do with you, and it included the meaning behind that tattoo.
“If you’re lucky, nothing at all.”
It’s unsatisfying, but Mikey’s demeanor allows no further room for inquiry. A part of you marvels at his countenance, at the way he’s able to be somewhat soft, yet switch so quickly. You watch as he calls out to whomever was at the other side of the door. Takeomi, they identify. They’re here to collect you, just as Mikey said. He allows them permission to enter, and when you pick your head up, you meet the dark, warm eyes and thick, curly blue hair that you’d become accustomed to seeing almost every day now.
“Ready to go?” Amara beams. She tucks her hands in her pockets, ignoring a softly grunting Takeomi as he picks up all the bags you brought up. “Heard you went shopping, maybe we can have a little fashion show, yeah?”
It’s hard to believe this was the same woman threatening to kill you a few days ago.
Tumblr media
It’s even more hard to believe that she was such a jovial person otherwise.
“Oh, where’d you get that? I’ve been looking for a maxi dress like that for ages, that looks so good on you! Do a spin, let me see!”
Amara’s perched on her bed, sitting on her knees as the contents of your bags lay scattered all around her room. You stand in front of the closet (walk-in closet at that), bashful as you spin in the newest dress she had you wriggle your way in. “Uh, Balenciaga, I think?”
Amara’s eyes are dazzling when you meet her again. “It’d pair so well with the Bottega shoes you got- the white ones! Go put them on, you’ll see what I mean.”
You shuffle to the ottoman in the corner, all the shoes you got piled right next to it. Picking out the set in particular she referred to, you busied yourself with pulling them on. There’s a soft knock on the bedroom door as you do, and you look up in time to see Takeomi peeking his head in.
“You two doing alright in here?” He asks, and while you go to assure him that you’re fine, Amara’s raising an eyebrow after you.
“It’d do you some good to offer her a drink, y’know.” Her tone is playful as she shifts on the bed, folding her legs to sit criss-crossed. “You’re a terrible host, Akashi.”
His eyes move towards her and match the playful glint she wears so proudly. His lips twitch upwards, and he chuckles softly. “You’re right.” He calls to you, waiting until your head perks up in acknowledgement. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Uh,” You don’t have the chance to begin before Amara’s tutting again. “Didn’t even tell her the options. Sweetheart, do you drink wine?” You nod, and she turns back to Takeomi, who is already looking at her with a smirk on his face. “We’ll have wine then. There’s a bottle of Pinot Noir in the cupboard- bring it with two glasses.”
“As you wish, princess.”
Your eyes flit between the two and you have to force yourself to swallow back a giggle, knowing look crossing over your features. Amara scrunches her nose playfully, and when Takeomi quietly exits, her gaze returns to you. You both meet eyes and her eyebrow raises. “What?”
“Nothing!” You say quickly, but there’s a giggle in your voice that you can’t quite hide. The darkskinned woman squints, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know, I thought you knew by now that lying doesn’t work on me.”
“You and Takeomi seem pretty close.” You hum, shoving your foot in the other shoe. “That’s all.”
Amara shrugs. “We work for the same gang, of course we’re close.”
“Not that kind of close.” Shoe on, you sit up straight. “Then what kind of close are you implying?”
Did she need you to spell it out? Or was she just playing coy? You take a brief glance at her, at the way she fidgets in her seat, the smile teasing her pretty face. There’s a blush written all over her features that you don’t need to see the color of to identify. She definitely knows. You raise an eyebrow at her knowingly. “The kind of close you get when you’re dating somebody.”
Her eyes widen almost comically and she fakes a dramatic gasp. “I’m not dating him!”
“Amara.” You deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “I may not be you, but I can spot a blatant lie when I see one.”
Debatable, because you couldn’t spot the fraud Shuji was, but thankfully the other woman was too busy being bashful to call you out on that. She stammers for a few seconds, avoiding your eyes, but one look at your face and she’s melting all over herself. “Okay, fine. We might be dating.”
“Might?”
“Okay, we are. We are dating.” She breathes, and there’s a softness that crosses over her that makes you coo. She kisses her teeth and shakes her head, waving you off with a roll of her eyes. “Shut up! Don’t go telling anyone, we’re keeping it a secret right now.”
“You two are cute together.” You smile. They are, and judging by Amara’s very, very painfully obvious attraction to the man, they worked well with each other. A question starts to burn at the back of your tongue and you’re asking it before you have the chance to dwell on it for long. “How do you deal with him?”
“Hm?” She’s folding her arms over her knees and rests her chin on top of them. “What do you mean?”
“Like,” And suddenly you’re the fidgeting one, picking at the hem of your dress until she barks at you to stop doing that otherwise you’ll ruin the seam. “He’s busy and constantly in danger all the time. He has to be secretive sometimes too, I’m guessing, because of business or whatever. How do you cope with that?”
Amara thought she was the obvious one. Your feelings couldn’t be painted more clearer on you if you picked up a paint brush and illustrated it yourself. It’s what made you so easy to read, and when you were in a business that required you to deal with liars and manipulators every day, your shamelessness was a breath of fresh air. No wonder Mikey took such a liking to you. In a way, Amara sees herself in you.
She takes a second, her eyes watching how you’d subconsciously console yourself. Your gaze fell to the plush pink carpet on the floor, to your toes that you got redone (Kakucho said Mikey would be okay with it), to the cushioned pattern of the shoes you wore. She’s smiling again, chuckling softly to herself.
“He comes home,” She begins, drawing your attention back up to her. “And he kisses me on my cheek, and my nose, and my chin. And then we make dinner, which is mainly me chopping up veggies and whatever else he asks me to while he’s doing the actual cooking. When we’re done we eat on the couch because it’s more comfortable and so he can watch those stupid sports highlights he likes so much.”
“He’s into sports?” She giggles. “Yeah. He’s obsessed with basketball and football. Favorite teams are the Spurs and 49ers. He’s in hell right now.”
Both of you share a laugh. The domesticity of it is revealing. It’s simple, calm, mundane, wildly different than their actual day to day lives. A part of you would almost think they wouldn’t like something so humdrum, but the gentle ease of a glow on her features confirms the contrary. “That’s how.” Your eyebrows pinch in and your head tilts softly. She recognizes your confusion and only smiles wider.
“It’s worth it.” She rests her cheek on her forearm. “All the stress of what we choose to do doesn’t matter at the end of the day. He comes home to me, and it’s all worth it.”
Amara wonders about you. How did Hanma treat you? Did he love you? You loved him, or maybe you still do. It was clear as day on your face back in the interrogation room, the raw, unfiltered pain of being lovelorn drawing jagged across your soul. Lovelorn and destined for death, marked by the man you gave your all to, only for him to disappear from your life without a second thought. She wonders if that’s why you asked- did you miss him, too? Wait up for hours on end when he left, hoping he was safe, praying he’d return to you? Was that why you were asking? She examines your demeanor again. Your hands pull at each other, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.
Or was it because of someone else?
“He hurt you, didn’t he?”
You didn’t have to look up at her to know what she was referring to. You smile, a bit bitterly, and nod. “Yeah, he did.”
“Men like him,” She begins, taking a moment to piece together her thoughts. “I’m not gonna tell you they’re one in a million, because unfortunately, they happen a lot. Guys are assholes and they break your heart, and chances are they don’t care about it afterwards either. They suck.”
“Yeah,” You breathe out a sour laugh, watery words garbling in your throat. The backs of your eyes sting and you blink. “Yeah, they do.”
Amara smiles pitifully. She’s been there, she knows how you feel. She’s shuffling out of the bed as you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, crossing to squeeze onto the seat and wrap her arms around you. You sniffle, apologizing, but she shushes you, resting her warm cheek onto your shoulder. She smells like brown sugar and honey and the scent helps to calm you down, paired with her soft hands that rub soothing patterns into your skin.
“They do, but someone better always comes along. Someone who makes you forget about everything that’s happened before, makes you forget the names of the men who’ve wronged you. Someone comes, and they exceed your every standard, push past every obstacle, do everything in their power to put a smile on your face and keep it there. Someone comes along, and they come home to you. They help you take off your shoes after a long day and massage your ankles while you yammer on about the stupidest of things, like how the local grocery store ran out of red onions on the one day you absolutely needed red onions.” She grins when you giggle softly, sniffling in between. “Someone comes along, and they make everything worth it again.”
A part of you feels childish and pathetic, but that’s what heartbreak does to some people. Especially the heartbreak that you’re forced to relive after trying so long to get over it. You turn to look at her, red rings around your irises but half a smile on your face. “You think my someone is gonna come along?”
Amara doesn’t even have to think about it. “I think he already has.”
Your brows furrow, confusion all over your face. Was she about to tell you what she was thinking? Of course not. Instead, she giggles to herself and pats your shoulder.
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out soon.”
Tumblr media
Chifuyu. Of all the people in Tokyo you’d find to befriend, it had to be Chifuyu. One of the few people on this earth Mikey did his best to actively avoid crossing paths with. What a woman of wonders you are.
Mikey scours through the papers strewn across his desk, screenshots of surveillance footage, Chifuyu’s figure seen exiting your apartment the morning you got ambushed. He checks the time stamp on them. 05:32:08. He searches for the snapshot of his entrance and checks the time there. 00:04:19. You were dropped off at your residence sometime after 11 that night. He checks your phone records- no calls made, but a text sent to his number at 11:43. Chifuyu arrives twenty minutes later and leaves five hours later. Mikey chooses not to think of what he was doing there- the possibilities should’ve been vast, but the sinking, definitive feeling in his chest had already guessed what Chifuyu’s business with you was. It makes his skin crawl in annoyance. His guess was right all along. Chifuyu did have feelings for you. This only cemented it.
Did you have feelings for him too?
Mikey’s door opens suddenly, but if the white-haired man was startled by it, he makes no effort to show it. His eyes stay glued onto his papers. “You knock before you enter my office. You should know better.”
Whoever it is, their shoes tap against the floor, the sound stopping in front of Mikey’s desk. Mikey can see a pair of familiar purple striped trousers above the paper. “What do you want, Sanzu? I assume this is urgent.”
“It is.” He breathes. Mikey looks up at him fully from above the glasses perched on his nose, lowering the paper onto the desk. Sanzu looks manic in a way, eyes widened, his mullet blown out with how fast he’d ran over to Mikey’s office. He swallows, and a hand comes up to comb his hair out of his face. “You’re not going to like this.”
Oh? Mikey raises an eyebrow to urge the man to continue. Sanzu takes a breath, his other hand ducking into his pocket, wrapping around the pill container to ground himself. Inwardly he’s cursing the Haitani’s. This is their unit’s fuck up after all, why was it Sanzu’s responsibility to be the bearer of bad news? Probably because Mikey would quicker kill them than Sanzu, but that’s not the point here. He takes a once over of his boss’s face, hoping the neutrality on it would stay when he delivered the news. His thumb taps against the cap on his container, and his mouth opens to say the words that run Mikey’s blood hot and cold at the same time.
“Chifuyu’s gone cold.”
Tumblr media
35 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
✨Custom ice Toa !✨
And another one ! If the others were already experimental, this one is much, much more-
Closeups under the cut !
Front/back views :
Tumblr media Tumblr media
That one was a lot of fun ! But it’s also not really stable, considering there are some weird piece combinations. This one also has disproportionate legs, compared to the rest of the body, but it’s alright.
With that one, I really tried to remain within Kopaka’s spirit (notice the ski blades and the Kanohi). The bow and arrow (which doubles down as a lance, and is using one of Kopaka’s blades), is a weapon I don’t think has been used before in the original bionicles (correct me if I’m wrong).
The arms/hands are using Pridak’s feet, because it works well and still allows for large movements.
I used some darker white pieces on the back and shoulders to get some slight contrats, and used technic pieces on the chest to get a proper body shape, with a leg piece underneath.
Legs :
Tumblr media
(Too) Many details on the legs ! The blades under the feet are a combination of Kopaka Nuva’s blades and Glatoran blades, which also hold a shoulder piece used as a supplementary leg pieces.
Now is the here we enter the mess : all of the ankle sockets you can see are not used for the articulations, and are only here to keep the back piece in place (Star leg), while the actual socket is behind the technic gear plate. Then there is a socket which doesn’t even have a ball, it is directly stacked on top of another socket, and I use multiple feet to cover the leg areas which would expose how terrible the inside is. At the front, you might also notice a 1*2 curved slope tile held by two technic pins. It’s floppy, and it looks weird from the side, but the front appearance makes it worth it. Finally, at the front, I also use part of a Vahki’s head as a final plate, before we finally reach the connection between the legs and the body. As I said, that whole part is a mess.
Head :
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tried to remain close to Kopaka’s appearance here too, by adding a X-ray vision thing, but the most important part is that the Kanohi is Hero Factory Stormer’s mask, but sideways. The trans blue pieces are Borhok eyes, which fit perfectly, and I managed to cram a socket connector inside, making the head quite mobile and sturdy.
Next week is another one ! Not sure which of the three it will be, but I haven’t decided which one yet (tell me if you have a preference~).
I also finally received my new parts, meaning I can get back to working on my big project, yay !
24 notes · View notes
imagines--galore · 2 days
Text
||Mind Over Matter|| Part Sixteen
Summary: Evelyn is Penelope Garcia’s protégé. She is a tech wiz, and knows her way around any kind of security and just like her mentor knows  how to dig deep and get into the past of anyone and has a knack for   anything with a chip in it. Including potato chips. The one thing she fails at is figuring out is the mind and how it works.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Evelyn Richardson(OC)
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. Family. Some language, blood and violence in later installments.
Previously - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, 
A/N: You know whats coming in the next couple of chapters! So enjoy a few moments of happiness. 
Takes place just at the beginning of Episode 14 Season 2
Putting away the last of the dishes Evelyn closed the door of the shelf softly. Giving the counter one final wipe she laid the towel she'd used neatly along the back of one of the stools around the island. The sound of her phone pinging caught her attention and she quickly picked it up, smiling at the name she saw lighting the screen, the red head flipped her phone open to reply back.
Plans to go out next weekend. Whole Team. You are not backing off Evelyn my sweet. – P
The sound of buttons clicking could be heard as Evelyn replied back.
Wouldn't dream of it. You know where I live anyway. – E
The phone pinged as a reply came through.
That is true my darling. Still be sure to dress cute. JJ and I have a pact to have you meet someone and fall in love and have cute mini-yous running around. – P
Evelyn barely had time to reply before the phone pinged again.
Don't worry Pen, I'm gonna be helping her get ready. – JJ
It seemed Penelope had messaged in the group text which comprised of her, JJ and of course Evelyn.
I am not a child that needs help tying their shoes or anything JJ. – E
No. But knowing you, you'd probably turn up in your work clothes and we can't have that. – JJ
My fellow blonde is correct. We need to make you look gorgeous. If not for anyone then yourself. – P
Evelyn rolled her eyes as she shot back her confirmation, prompting Penelope to urge JJ to bring an extra dress or two since she knew the state of Evelyn's closet. The young FBI Agent shook her head in amusement as she shoved her phone inside her jeans pocket and began making her way to the bathroom in preparation for another day at work.
The weekend arrived quicker then it ought to have. It had been a relatively slow week, a rarity for them, but one no member of the BAU questioned. Evelyn had managed to finally catch up with the file work she had been so behind and she knew this weekend she could truly relax and enjoy time with her friends. In preparation for the night out, the red head had decided to take a nice long bath. She hadn't had the chance to take one in ages. Quick showers usually did the trick for her, but Penelope was right, sometimes a girl did need to pamper herself to feel special.
JJ would be arriving in an hour or so after which Spencer would pick the two of them up and they would make their way to the club. Since the three of them lived close by it was convenient to take just one car. Stepping into the bathroom, Evelyn filled the tub with the right amount and temperature of water before adding in the soak spa Emily had given her. The woman claimed she had picked it up by accident, thinking it was shampoo. Evelyn had agreed to take it off her hands since Emily preferred showers anyway. 
Once the tub was full and everything was ready, the red head quickly stepped out of her clothes, placing her phone on the small table she had placed next to the bathtub, in case there was an emergency. The bathroom was filled with steam and a deep relaxed sigh fell from her lips as she allowed herself to be immersed in the warm water. Her curly red hair was tied in a knot above her head to keep from getting wet. She had already washed them a day ago. Leaning her head back against the towel behind her neck so that the marble of the tub wouldn't dig into her skin, Evelyn allowed her thoughts to drift as she listened to the soft music echoing from the stereo in her room.
It had taken her awhile to get over the run-in with her sister. Gideon had commented how she seemed to have reverted back to who she had been when she'd been recruited for the FBI. Evelyn had been surprised to hear his theory on how much she had changed. For one she had gained confidence and was surer of herself then she had been a few years ago. It seemed meeting her sister had wiped all of that clean given how all the bad memories she had worked so hard to forget came to the forefront of her mind and she lost whatever progression she had made when it came to herself.
Talking had helped a little. She had spoken to Penelope when she had gotten back. But only a little and only because the blonde had realized very quickly that something was up. Evelyn did manage to evade JJ and Emily's questions. Morgan had left the matter alone after their initial talk at the hotel. Though it did seem like he was being extra nice to her. Not that she was complaining. Hotch, like Gideon, had made a comment about it, given her a few words of encouragement before never mentioning it again, though she knew he was keeping an eye on her.
Spencer though was a different story.
It hadn't felt awkward or strange after they had spent the night together sleeping. Truth be told, she had woken up feeling well rested and calm as opposed to the raging storm of emotions she had been the previous night. They'd both been wrapped up around each other, and Evelyn had taken a few moments to fully appreciate his features in the early morning light before he had blinked himself awake and smiled at her, asking if she were feeling alright.
A question he had asked for the next few days. Every single day. In the morning when he greeted her and the evening when they would leave after a hard day of work. There was a special warmth that bloomed in her chest every time he asked. It was just amazing to her how caring he was being. Then again she had claimed him as her best friend and vice versa. And it was on their flight back to Quantico that Evelyn had realized that there was nothing she wouldn't do to make sure Spencer was safe. The thought had taken her aback, but she figured she had to face the truth sooner then later.
The sound of her cellphone had her jerking out of the little semi-doze she had been slipping in and out of. Quickly drying her hand, she grabbed her phone, flipping it open.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Evelyn! Its me. I'm just five minutes away from your house. Is JJ there yet?" She blinked at Spencer's voice. Checking the time on the small screen of her phone her eyes widened.
"No, but I think I took a longer bath then usual." As she spoke she stood, water falling around her as she slowly stepped out onto the floor mat, wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear and quickly pulling on her bathrobe. There was a brief moment of silence on his end which prompted Evelyn to frown.
"Hey Spencer? Still there?"
"Yeah! Yeah! I'm pulling up into your driveway now." His voice sounded a little strange but the red head shrugged it off.
"Hold on, I'll open up the door before I start changing." Sliding her feet into a pair of soft slippers, Evelyn disconnected the call and raced to the door, securing the front of her bathrobe as she went. Once she saw him approach the door she pulled it open, smiling to him in greeting. "You're a little early there Doctor." She teased as she closed the door behind him. He shrugged. "Well I got ready before the given time. Unlike some people." Evelyn glanced down at her bathrobe the same time he did. One that had fallen open slightly at the chest, despite her tight knot and ended mid-thigh, leaving her legs entirely bare.
It was right then that she realized that she was standing in front of her friend and colleague in nothing but a fluffy robe and slippers. Her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red as she quickly turned around and began making her way back to her bedroom. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen and let JJ in when she gets here, I'll be ready in a few." With that she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, feeling her skin burn with embarrassment as she hit the side of her head gently. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
In the living room where Evelyn had left Spencer, the young genius was trying his best to restart his own brain. He had certainly not been expecting to see his friend dressed as she was. Or rather the lack there of. Shaking his head to try and get the image out of his mind, Spencer quickly moved to the kitchen to grab himself some water. Hopefully that would cool down his burning cheeks. Though it did nothing to blot the image of Evelyn from his mind. Especially when he had heard her get out of the bath over the phone. Obviously she hadn't been wearing her robe then. Spencer groaned, this time splashing his face with water, silently chiding himself to stop thinking about her in that manner.
Really, what was wrong with him? He had always been in control of his mind. But now it seemed he could barely get it to cooperate with him when it came to Evelyn. More often then not he would find himself just thinking about her. At random. And now that they had both claimed to be each other's best friend Spencer had gained a new level of protection when it came to her. Sure he had been protective of her before, but now it had increased ten-fold. Especially after watching the way she had nearly broken down after running into her sister.
Spencer frowned as he went over the moment in his mind once more, absent-mindedly reaching out for the jar of cookies Evelyn always kept on the kitchen counter. Her past was still something he knew in bits and pieces, but now he had another piece to fit into the puzzle. Unconsciously his thoughts began to trail away from Evelyn's past to Evelyn herself. A new development he found he didn't mind. Thinking about her had the same effect on his mind as it did when being around her or talking to her. Calm and happy.
Not even ten minutes later JJ arrived, a little surprised at seeing Spencer already there. "Is Evelyn still getting ready?" She questioned. Spencer nodded. "Its only been ten minutes since I got here. Normally women take a lot more time then that to get ready no?"
The blonde shot him a look which had him pursing his lips and shrugging as if to say there was no lie in his statement. Making a small noise of agreement the media liaison approached the bedroom door. "Evelyn! Penelope said I had to approve whatever you're wearing and help you with your make up. She said and I quite, that you are helpless when it comes to that department."
Evelyn's voice was muffled as she shouted back. "No! JJ don't come in." The blonde rolled her eyes, her hand already resting on the doorknob.
"Oh come on Evelyn! Its not like its not anything I haven't seen before."
"That's not the point!"
"I'm coming in."
"JJ!" Her cries went unheard as the older woman was already closing the door behind her.
It took another ten minutes for Evelyn to finally get ready, and when she did emerge, with a proud looking JJ in tow, Spencer found himself at a loss for words. Which was a first for him. "I'm surprised at your choice of clothing Evelyn. I honestly thought I'd have to wrestle you not to wear a cardigan." The red head shrugged her shoulder slightly. "Penelope and I went shopping together a few days ago and she insisted that I wear this and it is very pretty so I thought why not."
The outfit Penelope had chosen consisted of a white off the shoulder shirt with full puffy sleeves. The shirt itself was puffy as well, but Evelyn had toned it down by wrapping a wide belt around her waist, accentuating it at the same time. Blue denim capris ended just mid-shin with her feet snug inside a pair of pretty ballet flats. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, some of it resting on her bare shoulder, while the rest fell along her back. Her glasses were still in place, since she refused to wear contacts, claiming her eyes itched. Her makeup was minimal, but the shiny gloss seemed to draw attention to her lips. A pair of small hoop earrings stood out against the redness of her hair, but that was about it.
It wasn't glamorous or over the top. It was simple yet lovely.
Just like her.
While Evelyn looked around for her house keys, JJ managed to elbow Spencer in the gut. "Pick your jaw off the floor Spencer. You're making it a little too obvious." The Genius stuttered, growing cherry red in the face. "I-I wasn't-" His voice sounded hoarse. He coughed. The blonde giggled as Evelyn approached.
"Alright, lets get going. Penelope has already left six messages, and two voicemails." She frowned as Spencer tried to clear his throat once more. "You alright Spencer? Need some water?" The Doctor shook his head, finally getting his voice back. "No. I'm alright." With that he strode to the door and out to his car. Evelyn frowned in confusion at his sudden departure.
Her mouth opened to say something but JJ cut her off. "Lets get going Lady Ginger."
"Lady Ginger? Have you been talking to Derek?"
                                               ————————–
Tag List - molethemollie @cillsnostalgia @aceofspades190  @kathaaaaaaa @lovelyygirl8 @tatilolz  @punksnotdeadbutiam
21 notes · View notes
cadybear420 · 22 hours
Text
Cadybear's Reviews- Murder at Homecoming
Welcome to the thirty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Murder at Homecoming, which I have ranked on the "Platinum Tier" at 9 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was during September-December 2022.
This is definitely one of the better, if not the best release, of 2022, and it’s easily among my personal faves. 
A MC who is proactive and gets shit done, multiple LIs, highly compelling story. How can I not love that? All three of the LIs are amazing characters– and Tyler especially is just precious. I think he’s the first love interest I have ever adored nearly as much as I’ve adored Aiden. I miss when we had male LIs that are just so babygirl. 
The incorporation of mature topics and queer themes was especially excellent. MTFL, take notes! Because THIS is how you write a teen story that talks about queer sexuality and mature behaviors. Besides maybe BiBound I mean BloodBound, this is probably the first book in Choices where each LI has some degree of confirmed sexuality outside of their LI option status for the MC. 
One thing that’s especially notable is how Tyler will talk about how he used to think he was straight if you romance him as a male or enby MC. I normally don’t mind much when LIs in GOC stories are made with the “playersexual” style of writing, but these sort of little changes are a good show of effort and give Tyler more character.
But of course, it’s not without a handful of problems. 
Like COP (1), the story is incredibly linear and none of the clues or choices really affect your story. Sure, they give you a bit of extra background, but that’s about it. 
The only choices that really have any impact are the stuff related to the queer discussions, Tyler’s romance route, and how the options for how your MC can talk about their queer experience can change based on your MC’s gender and romance choices. Which is still highly praiseworthy, don’t get me wrong, but I’d have loved to see some variation in the other elements of the book too.
And as much as I did enjoy this MC and do consider them one of the more refreshing ones, they were also a bit too rigid and pre-set for me at times. I get that some MCs will need to have pre-set details about them, and to some degree that does apply to this MC, but it was a bit much at times. Like, there was especially no need to give them a default first AND last name. I do like the aspect of MC preferring to go by their middle name, but we still could have been allowed to change their first and last names too, to be honest. 
I found it really hard to feel for the loss of Perdita for this reason; the traumatic event backstory didn’t feel as well established, compared to that of ILITW and ACOR MCs. Though to be fair, I do remember there being a handful of premium scenes to see a memory with Perdita, and I do remember skipping all but two of them. 
But even then, I never felt she had quite as much importance as the writers clearly wanted her to have? Outside of being a motivator for MC to solve Gabbie’s case and allowing MC to connect with Donovan better. Maybe my opinion on this might change after I give it a replay, though. 
That being said, I’m actually fine with the story not telling us what really happened to Perdita, as much as I’d have loved a continuation for this book. MC not knowing what happened to Perdita is what motivated them to solve Gabbie’s case, and in that regard, the two cases kind of juxtapose one another. Whereas MC is able to get closure for Gabbie’s case, they don’t do that for Perdita’s case. And that’s fine, because sometimes we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. 
That makes the ending a little more nuanced in my opinion. Sometimes, we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. While I’m still mixed on how well the story integrated Perdita, this message was handled decently and didn’t feel like it was in bad spirit. 
So if there were a continuation for this story, I wouldn’t mind it being centered around MC finding Perdita, motivated to work on that case more actively after their success with Gabbie’s case. But rather than having them solve the case, it can mostly center around them struggling between whether they should keep up that search, or leave it as a cold case and move on. 
Overall, definitely a higher-tier and very respectable story that definitely deserves a replay. 
18 notes · View notes
diari0deglierrori · 9 months
Text
Surviiived driving +35min x2 !!
5 notes · View notes
19orionis · 5 months
Text
Uhh. I’m bisexual
2 notes · View notes
yoohyeontual · 5 months
Text
My body went numb a little and I’m stressed, cause I hope everything is not coming back and I’m afraid to go to sleep (cause you know I’ll feel it more since I’m not distract and I will panic) but I have to wake up in 2 hours for Puppy’s pills so I have to so sleep now 😭
2 notes · View notes
vintage-rejects · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
A post based entirely on facts
33 notes · View notes
lhrry · 2 years
Text
x
15 notes · View notes
fastestloseralive · 2 years
Text
not me thinking about that au @haljordangreenjedi and I have where barry becomes a doctor instead of a csi again
9 notes · View notes
bungee-gum-b1tch · 1 year
Text
counting down the minutes until the 3.3 livestream just praying that hoyoverse doesn’t completely fuck up scara’s character
2 notes · View notes
starbuck · 2 years
Note
You said in the tags of that post about being okay with asks that you are baking cookies 👀 What kind of cookies🍪 and also: What are your favorite sweets?🧁🍬🍭
I’m making oatmeal raisin cookies for my Mom-mom and chocolate chip cookies for my mom for Mother’s Day tomorrow! I don’t like oatmeal raisin cookies myself but my Mom-mom loves them so i make them for her a lot! The chocolate chip cookies will be shared between my mom and I when we go birding tomorrow!
My all-time favorite sweet is chocolate ice cream! For hard ice cream, I like as dark a chocolate is possible so long as it’s still nice and creamy, but I also have a soft spot for chocolate soft serve because, as a kid, that’s all the chocolate ice cream I was allowed to have due to my peanut allergy and concerns about cross-contamination. For this reason, I also have a deeply-rooted hatred of vanilla ice cream and will avoid eating it if at all possible since it was once the only hard ice cream I was allowed.
6 notes · View notes
m-an-u · 2 years
Text
Apparently clat results today everyone who gets tnnlu please it’s literally ranked last don’t take it xxxx
2 notes · View notes
nqbus · 23 days
Text
i just never want to see content about f1nn because i’m tired of people being weird about him
0 notes
augustinewrites · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
“itadori, please respect his personal space—”
“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”
“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”
peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.
you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.
a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.
[satoru]: send nudes?
you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.
peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.
he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.
but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.
when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.
luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.
he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.
[satoru]: haha jk
[satoru]: unless…?
huffing, you quickly type back a response.
[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.
[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)
“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”
“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”
yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!
megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.
sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.
thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.
he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.
your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.
[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?
[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…
[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you
oh, that’s actually kind of—
[satoru]: nude, preferably
maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.
[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.
there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.
[satoru]: shit
[satoru]: is this a scene?
you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.
[you]: i hate you
he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.
you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.
once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—
you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.
he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.
you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.
“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”
“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”
“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”
“a nap does sound kind of nice…”
he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.
“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”
it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.
so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.
because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.
7K notes · View notes