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musicforastylesrestaurant · 23 days

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By Order Of The Crimson Brotherhood.

(peaky blinder!harry)

masterlist || ask me anything

in which, the year is 1921, and the city of manchester is under the control of the ruthless gang the crimson brotherhood, so when there leaders wife gets mobbed in the streets on her way home from the farmers market, the styles brothers make sure they know she is one of there own.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - ik this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but i have 100% been in my peaky blinders era as of the beginning of the month, im already on season four 🙈🙈 and thought it would be kind of cute to join the two worlds together, don’t know if this will turn out any good but who knows?? anywho enjoy angels 💗💞

January, 1921.

Harry Edward Styles, a man born and raised in the city of Manchester, a man known for his ruthlessness, his strong will and his dangerous antics.

Him aswell as his brothers roamed the streets of Holmes Chapel, with razor blades down into the flat caps which ultimately led to fear seeping into the bones of there enemies.

Which they had a lot of.

The Styles Brothers were well renown around those ends, the family always had been, there father wasn’t present and there mother died when the youngest brother was barely a year old.

Harry met you, his gorgeous girl at the age of nineteen, the two of you were childhood sweethearts, destined to be together no matter the circumstances.

You were wandering around the streets, when you bumped into him and his elder brothers Charlie and George. You were about to fall to the floor but your wrist was captured in the hands of the leader, who caught you and raised you back to your feet carefully.

You asked how you could return the favour and he muttered something along the lines of ‘you could let me take you out for a night on the town’

And the rest was history.

When the war broke out, Harry knew for a fact that he would be getting called up to represent his country, and at the point the two of you were already engaged, but he demanded that the two of you be husband and wife before he was shipped off, explaining that if he was to die, he wanted to die as your husband.

So, the two of you had a small ceremony and you officially became Mr and Mrs. Styles.

When he returned home from war, he demeanour was slightly colder due to everything that he had seen and been through, he was colder to everyone around him, except for you.

He could never be angry, harsh, callous or aggravated around you.

People feared him before he went to war, but when he returned it was like he was a ticking time bomb, one wrong move and heads would be blown.

He ruled Manchester.

And that would never, ever change.

In the heart of Manchester, you move with the grace of a queen, your every step echoing the legacy of the Crimson Brotherhood, the notorious gang led by your husband, Harry Styles.

Despite the weight of your marital ties, you refuse to be confined by the expectations placed upon you.

Alone at the market, you weave through the stalls with purpose, selecting the finest ingredients for the dinner you plan to prepare for your husband, and his brothers.

Determination fuels your steps as you pick out fresh produce, savory meats, and delicate spices, each item chosen with care to create a meal worthy of the Crimson Brotherhood.

You approach the butcher's stall with a slightly sense of innocence, the scent of freshly cut meat mingling with the bustling atmosphere of the market. As you exchange pleasantries with the butcher, you can't help but admire the array of cuts on display, each one a testament to the skill and expertise of the person behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, love. What can I get for you today?"

Returning the smile, you reply, "I'm looking for four round beef steaks, please."

One for you, one for Harry, one for Charlie and one for George.

The butcher nods, already reaching for the desired cuts. "Ah, excellent choice. Coming right up."

As they expertly select the steaks, you engage in friendly banter. "Busy day at the market?"

The butcher chuckles, their hands deftly working the meat. "Always is, especially with the sun shining like this. But I can't complain, keeps me on my toes."

You nod in agreement, admiring their skill. "I can imagine. Thank you for always providing such quality cuts."

With a satisfied grin, the butcher presents the four round beef steaks, neatly packaged and ready for you. "There you go, love. These should do the trick."

"Thank you so much," you reply gratefully, accepting the package. "I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," the butcher says warmly. "Enjoy your meal."

With the package of steaks safely tucked into your basket, you bid farewell to the lively atmosphere of the farmers market. The sun's warm rays still linger, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets of Manchester.

As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having secured the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

Reaching into your basket, you retrieve a pair of gloves, slipping them onto your hands with practiced ease.

Just as you're about to slip the second glove onto your hand, a sudden grip tightens around your arm, pulling you forcefully backward.

Startled, you gasp as you're dragged into the dimly lit entrance of a secluded alleyway, the bustling sounds of the market fading into the distance behind you.

Heart pounding, you struggle against your assailant, your fingers instinctively tightening around the basket's handle, the package of steaks forgotten in your grip.

Panic surges through you as you're dragged deeper into the darkness, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the man's grip tightens around your arm, you're suddenly face to face with a stranger whose features are etched with menace. His blonde hair falls haphazardly across his scarred face, the jagged line drawing your attention to the intensity in his eyes.

The overpowering stench of rotten egg fills your nostrils, sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

"Just the girl I've been looking for," he growls, his words sending a chill through your trembling body. Tears blur your vision as you stare back at him, unable to comprehend the terror unfolding before you.

He was Irish.

In a voice thick with malice, he continues, his words slicing through the air like a blade. "Your husband and his brothers owe me, and I aim to collect. And what better way to send a message than through his darling wife?"

You try to speak, to plead for mercy, but fear has stolen your voice. Before you can utter a word, his fist connects with your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Gasping for breath, you curl into yourself, the pain radiating through your body like fire.

The man's laughter echoes off the walls, cold and cruel. "They crossed me, and now it's time to pay the price. And you, my dear, are the perfect pawn in this little game of ours."

As he delivers blow after brutal blow, each impact driving the air from your lungs, you cling to the faint hope that someone will come to your rescue.

But as the darkness closes in around you, you realize that you are utterly alone, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty knows no bounds.

With aching limbs, you muster the strength to push yourself upright, the world spinning around you as you struggle to focus through the haze of pain and fear.

Casting a wary glance over your shoulder, you retrieve the basket of food that had fallen to the ground during the attack.

With trembling hands, you wipe the dried blood from the corner of your mouth, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as a grim reminder of the violence you've endured.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you force yourself to take a step forward, the basket clutched tightly to your chest. Your movements are slow and unsteady, each step sending waves of agony rippling through your battered body.

As you reach the end of the alleyway, you pause, casting a furtive glance around to ensure that no one is watching. The last thing you need is for someone to see you in this state, vulnerable and exposed.

With a silent prayer for strength, you begin the agonizing journey home, every step a testament to your resilience in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline, but you refuse to let them fall, determined to maintain a facade of strength until you reach the safety of your own four walls.

With each agonizing step, you inch closer to the familiar sight of 24 Spring Lane, your sanctuary from the horrors of the outside world.

The journey that once felt like a mere stroll now stretches out before you like an eternity, every movement a testament to the relentless ache that pulses through your battered body.

Finally, you reach the doorstep, the key trembling in your hand as you struggle to insert it into the lock. Your fingers fumble with the familiar motion, the simple act of unlocking the door now a monumental task in your weakened state.

As you push open the door and step inside, relief washes over you, tempered only by the searing pain that courses through your body with each labored breath.

The injuries inflicted upon you by your assailant are beginning to take their toll, the dull throb in your ribs now accompanied by a sharp sting at the top of your eyebrow.

Unaware of your husband's presence, you stagger into the living room, your focus consumed by the overwhelming need to seek refuge from the torment of the outside world. But as you drop the basket to the floor and collapse onto the ground, a cry of pain escapes your lips, the weight of your injuries too much to bear alone.

In the dim light of the room, you catch a glimpse of Harry sitting in the corner, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond your line of sight.

As you collapse onto the floor, your body wracked with pain, Harry's instinct kicks in, propelling him across the room in a blur of motion. With a sense of urgency, he drops his cigarette and rushes to your side, his hands reaching out to catch you before your skull can meet the unforgiving wooden floor.

His eyes widen in shock and concern as he takes in the extent of your injuries, his heart clenching at the sight of blood staining your face and clothes. Gently, he cradles the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent as he ensures your safety in the midst of the chaos.

"M’Love, what happened?" Harry's voice is thick with worry, his usually steady demeanor shaken by the sight of you in such distress.

He carefully brushes the hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your bruised skin.

You struggle to find the words to answer him, the pain making it difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. But as you meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding that passes between you is enough to convey the depths of your suffering.

Without hesitation, Harry gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a fierce protectiveness that belies the tenderness in his touch. As he holds you close, you feel a sense of safety wash over you, a comforting reminder that no matter the trials you may face, you will always find refuge in his embrace.

As Harry holds you close, his voice filled with concern, he gently urges you to tell him who is responsible for your injuries. But fear grips you tightly, paralyzing your voice as you shake your head vehemently, unable to form the words to convey the terror that still grips your heart.

"Please, love," Harry implores, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance. "Y’need to tell me who did this. I won't let ‘em hurt you again, I promise."

But the memory of the man's cruel laughter and the violence he inflicted upon you looms large in your mind, filling you with a sense of dread at the thought of facing him again. How can you trust that Harry's promise will hold against such ruthless brutality?

Tears stream down your face as you cling to Harry, your body trembling with the weight of your fear and pain. You long to confide in him, to share the burden of your suffering, but the words remain trapped within you, a silent scream of anguish and despair.

In response to your silent plea, Harry's grip tightens around you, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatens to consume you.

"I swear to you, (Y/N)," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within you. "Whoever did this won't ever be able to hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

"I... I don't know his name," you manage to say, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "But he... he had blonde hair and... and a scar."

Harry's expression darkens as he processes your words. "Patrick McDonald," he mutters, his voice laced with anger and recognition. "Bloody hell."

Another wave of pain radiates from your ribs, causing you to instinctively turn your head into your husband's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace.

As you lean against him, Harry's arms tighten around you, a silent vow of protection against the threat that looms on the horizon.

"I'll deal with him," he promises, his voice a low growl. "No one hurts my wife and gets away with it."

“George, Charlie!”

You hadn't even realized they were in the house, lost in the chaos of your own pain and fear, but now they appear, their presence a welcome relief amidst the turmoil.

With wide eyes, George and Charlie rush into the room, their expressions shifting from confusion to concern as they take in the sight of you battered and bruised on the floor.

"What happened to ‘er?" George demands, his voice edged with worry as he kneels beside you, his hands hovering over your injuries.

Harry's jaw clenches with barely contained fury as he speaks the name that has haunted your nightmares since the attack.

"Patrick McDonald," he growls, his voice thick with anger and determination.

Charley lets out a harsh breath, his expression darkening with recognition.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, his fists clenching at his sides.

As the gravity of the situation sinks in, George's gaze flickers between you and his brothers, his features set in a steely resolve.

"We need to find him," he declares, his voice firm with determination.

Harry nods in agreement, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"And when we do, he'll wish he'd never laid a hand on her," he vows, his voice a low growl.

With trembling hands, you grip tight onto your husband's waistcoat, your eyes pleading with him not to leave your side.

"Please, H," you beg, your voice wavering with fear and desperation. "Don't leave me."

Harry's gaze softens as he looks down at you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.

"I have to, m’love," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "That bastard deserves hell f’what he did to you, and he's going to get what's coming to him."

You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your bruised cheeks.

"But I need you here," you plead, your voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of the room. "I'm scared, H. Please don't leave me alone."

For a moment, Harry's resolve wavers, his love for you outweighing the thirst for vengeance burning within him. But then, with a heavy heart, he gently extricates himself from your grasp, his eyes filled with determination as he rises to his feet.

"I promise, (Y/N)," he says, his voice firm with resolve. "When we find him, he's going to hurt just like he hurt you, s’a promise, and I never, ever break promises. He’ll get what’s coming to him one way or another.”

“By order of the Crimson Brotherhood."

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pinkeoni · 5 months

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im seeing chatter of “how did will feel when he learned about alan turing” and imagining him feeling so excited and inspired by a gay man creating something so significant but also having his fears reaffirmed to him— that he’s destined to die tragically and young and alone

#will byers

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zirobitches · 5 months

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One Piece: Soulmate AU pt. 2

Always in this twilight - Sir Crocodile x GN!Reader

here's pt. 1

Summary: In a world where soulmates are incapable of harming each other, you just found out your captain is your soulmate because he attempted to kill you. Sadness ensues

Tags: angst no comfort, Original characters bc I needed a crew for Croc, no beta we die like Roger, reader is former's Roger pirate raised alongside Shanks & Buggy, also reader is a former slave, the Vice Admiral is Sakazuki but it is not formally mentioned, Tom's Workers are the best

word count : almost 5600. damn.

Notice: this is not a croc/reader centric plot!!!! if you wanted to make out with croc im sorry this aint it. hop over to my ao3 if you want spoilers for this universes timeline: ao3 - im sorry in advance

You evade the Navy and Crocodile for a while into the night.

Back when you had helped your crew settle into the hotel you all had noticed some individuals dressed in robes and masks - some sort of festival they had going on in Water 7.

May as well participate.

You manage to swipe a black robe and nondescript mask from a local vendor. Normally you would have paid, but you had a feeling that the Navy may have spread word to locals to keep an eye out for you.

Even with your new disguise you still didn’t feel at ease walking through the canals, so you went up.

Up the levels of Water 7 towards the top. You found a fire escape that allowed you to get to the rooftop of some hotel. You stopped and took off your mask for a moment; there were no buildings nearby taller than yours, so you felt as though no one would see you.

A warm gentle breeze brushed against your face. The view of the city at night was wondrous- warm lights glowed all across the spire city, gently illuminating the pale buildings, the midnight blue sky filled with stars and the dark seas blended with the sky on the horizon. The sight would have put a smile on your face if you could have seen it in a better situation. You replace your mask and keep moving, hopping from building to building. There was no final destination in mind, just wandering atop the city. The only thing on your mind was to keep running. Thinking about anything else would make you distracted; distractions could get you in hot water.

But you couldn’t forget your crew. They were in danger - Crocodile wanted to take them to fight Whitebeard. To be killed by Whitebeard.

You and Crocodile had planned for the crew to stay in Water 7 for three nights. You weren’t sure if that was still his plan, but it’s not as though the Marines were going to chase him out of Water 7.

You stood at the top of a building overlooking a large square, one of the first open spaces you’ve seen in Water 7 that isn’t by the shore or occupied by multiple canals. You observed the space watching as some locals walked through going about their day.

Running errands, taking leisurely strolls, leaving their day job.

Why did you choose this life?

You could have settled down - Dressrosa was always your favorite place if you ever ‘retired’ like you joked you would.

A quaint, beautiful kingdom with a fair ruler. Fairies and flowers. It’s literally the place of your dreams, the kind you dreamed of when you ran out of reasons to keep going, back when you were in chains.

Why did you stay on the seas after Roger left?

Because you loved being a pirate?

Or because you didn’t have the strength to live alone?

A voice takes you out of your contemplation. Your eyes that had been gazing upon the locals' little lives now locked onto a silhouette you could never mistake.

Crocodile had entered the square.

And he carried something in his arms.

How you had tried to run away from your captain and ended up running into him anyway made you feel stupid. Without a doubt, it was odd that Croc was in the middle of Water 7. There should have been no inclination that you went this direction. So what was he doing here?

Crocodile was calling out to a group of Marines in the square that you hadn’t noticed. Even from your high vantage point you recognized the same Vice Admiral from before among them. Your position made it hard to make out what they were saying, so as quickly and quietly as you could, you jumped onto the lower building next to yours.

It was dark enough that with your black robe you shouldn’t be easily seen. By the time you had yourself better positioned, Crocodile had met in the middle of the square with the Marines. During your move, Marines had closed off the square, forcing local residents to evacuate the premises. God forbid they acknowledge their cooperation with pirates.

But then from your new vantage point you finally saw what your captain was carrying.

It was a dead body.

It was certainly not the first time you had seen him kill someone - and you knew he had killed this person because of their desiccated corpse; dried out in his signature fashion.

But it was the first time you had seen him carry a body so tenderly.

And the first time you had seen a dead body wear your clothes.

“I found them.” Crocodile’s deep voice clearly reached your ears. A chill went down your spine at his implication.

The body was supposed to be you. At closer inspection, the body he had had a similar skin tone and hair color as yours - if you had been dried out maybe. You’re not sure how he planned to explain the change of clothes - the body wore some clothes you had planned to wear during your stay here and had brought to the hotel.

But then again, Marines weren’t very clever.

Your captain dropped the corpse at their feet. Some of them backed away in disgust as parts of the corpse crumbled away at the impact. The Vice Admiral simply looked down with disdain.

“You were supposed to bring them in alive. No pirate affiliated with Gold Roger should be allowed to evade proper judgment.” The Vice Admiral’s words were laced with poison. You could feel his hatred from your hiding place.

Your hands clenched at his mention of the Roger pirates. Your old crew weren’t bad people - you had encountered plenty of truly evil pirates, and the crew of the Oro Jackson were far from evil.

Crocodile ignored the Vice Admiral. “You got what you wanted in the end though. A dead Roger pirate, courtesy of your new Pirate Warlord. Put that in the papers and you’ll have a field day with the celebrations. They might even give you a medal.”

You flinched at memories stirred up by the newspaper comment. For the past three years since Roger’s death you’ve seen some of your former crewmates names end up in the paper - articles about their capture and subsequent execution. Crocodile was very aware of your history, of how close you were to your old crew.

He had seen your sorrow once when you happened to be in a civil town when the news of one such loss hit the papers. How you had struggled to hold back tears while civilians laughed and celebrated ‘one less dangerous pirate’. How you shut yourself away that night. How you kept your distance from your new crew for weeks after.

And now here you two were.

Still the older Marine was not pleased. “I’m surprised you killed your first mate. Aren’t you pirates supposed to have a code that prevents you from doing so? How am I supposed to know this is actually their body?” The Vice Admiral did have a good point. A mummified corpse was hard to identify, it could be anyone. Apparently the Marines were more clever than you gave them credit for.

But before Crocodile could defend himself, there was a small commotion at one end of the square.

“Hey, no civilians allowed!” A marine was blocking someone from entering. A familiar someone. You felt your heart sink like a stone.

It was Tink.

Tink, one of the four that was part of Croc’s crew before you joined. Tink, the Neverland pirates' loyal shipwright. Tink, who was so young, a teenager that you had grown to see like your little sister.

She shouldn’t be a pirate. And she shouldn’t be here now.

“Let me through! That’s my captain!” She cried out. Crocodile looked back at her. You saw him clench his jaw - in anger? Or in dread?

You knew Crocodile was always more gentle with Tink. She was the kid of the crew, everyone loved her. And now she was caught in the middle of negotiations with him and the Navy. And she was about to see a dead body that was supposed to be you.

“Tink,” you whispered, unable to keep the words inside. “Tink, please go. It can’t be you, anyone but you, please.”

But Crocodile was in need of someone who could back his claim that the dead body was yours.

You didn’t know if he had told the crew about what had happened - his acceptance of the Warlord title, his offering you to the Navy, about you two being…

You two being-

He didn’t tell them. Sir Crocodile would certainly have taken this burden alone. He always kept secrets from you, and this was not something he would have shared with them. There was a possibility he ran into the crew when he went to retrieve your clothes from the hotel. But you imagined he snuck in and out - being able to turn into sand made things like that a breeze.

So in short, Tink was about to walk into this square surrounded by Marines, see a corpse that could only have been killed by Crocodile, dressed in your clothes.

You were frozen in place as you watched Crocodile beckon Tink towards him.

It felt like an out of body experience. Maybe you had died. Maybe he did kill you and this was your soul punished to not be able to do anything but stand by and watch your family fall apart again.

She walked past the Marines to him - gods, she looked so small from this height. Tink has never looked younger in your eyes than she did now.

Tink paused.

She had finally caught sight of the body on the ground.

A whisper of your name passed her lips.

You had to cover your mouth to hide the sob that threatened to escape.

A louder question of your name now. Then she ran past Crocodile who stood motionless. He didn’t watch.

Tink fell to her knees beside the body. Her eyes ran up and down and then carefully, so very carefully, touched the arm of the body. It fell apart in her hands.

She gasped a sob out, then started crying fully. She kept reaching out to grab the body - your body - but would then flinch back in fear of it crumbling away. Tink ended up wrapping her arms around herself to prevent from touching ‘you’ and just wailed.

This clear display of grief seemed to satisfy the Vice Admiral.

“Hmmm. I knew you wanted this title badly Sir Crocodile, but I’m still surprised at how far you were willing to go.” Crocodile still had not turned to face Tink and the body and had instead pulled out one of his cigars and set it alight. The smoke hid his face from your sight.

Tink’s grief stuttered in response to the Marine’s words.

“W-What?” She looked up at the Vice Admiral who only met her tear stained face with contempt and a small smirk. Tink then turned her head to Crocodile, who had finally mustered the decency to face what he had done.

“Captain, it can’t be true.” Her voice, broken though it was, still carried through the square. You saw some of the Marines forming the barricade uncomfortably shifting in place. Some just stared at the ground.

“Did you do this?” It could not have been clearer that it was his handiwork, but you understood denial very well. It was a strange feeling to see grief from the outside like this.

“Did you really kill our first mate? After everything?” She cried up at him, still on her knees on the ground, but now she sat in between your body and him as though she was trying to prevent him from getting closer to you.

“And for what?! A fucking title? A little more power?” Tink was yelling now, screaming even with tears and snot still running down her face.

“They loved you more than anyone else on our ship!”

You gasped at that, tears freely falling now behind your mask, hands tight against it to prevent the crowd below from hearing. You never thought your admiration was noticeable - hell, you hadn’t even fully realized you were in love with Crocodile till today.

But Tink did. The crew had known.

The force of Tink’s words hit Crocodile the hardest. He flinched back at Tink’s scream, a small step back as though she had actually hit him.

“They would have given you the world! Why couldn’t that have been enough?”

“Why aren’t we enough for you?”

These last gut wrenching words seemed to drain Tink’s strength. She fully fell to the ground now, head to the ground, entire body shaking with her grief.

Crocodile could do nothing but stand and stare at the mess at his feet.

Through your tears you noticed movement near where Tink had entered the square. You looked, and let out a quiet sob.

It was the crew. Not the whole crew, but your original crew.

There were four people who accompanied Crocodile before you: Tink the child shipwright, Diat the purple-haired helmsman, Kalmia the mute sharpshooter, and Rutako the fishman navigator. It was an odd crew to begin with, a group of individuals you would not have assumed were related in any fashion, but quickly grew to see their friendship.

You grew to love them.

They were the first family you found outside of the Roger pirates, and you had wanted to run from them. Wanted to run so if things fell apart as they did in front of you now, you wouldn’t have to feel the pain.

Was that really just last night you had wished for that?

Now all you want is to run to them.

But you had just been declared dead - Crocodile has gone and killed a random civilian to fake your death. If you ran out now you could prevent him from becoming a Warlord. Rejoin with your crew. It's not as though Crocodile could kill you - but the Marines could.

To reveal Crocodile’s deception would be to risk the safety of everyone you loved. It would begin an instant fight to the death, one your crew was heavily outnumbered for. No party would walk away without losses.

As it stands now, the only thing that will be hurt tonight would be the Neverland pirates. The crew would certainly fall apart with you, their beloved first mate, dead; killed by your own captain no less. Maybe this is how your crew would be saved from Whitebeard. As foolish as Sir Crocodile may be, even he surely wouldn’t fight Whitebeard without an entire crew to back him.

And this was your chance to escape. Leave it all behind, get rid of all attachments so you could never feel this pain again.

You watch as your original crew find Tink and the body. Watch as Rutako gently takes Tink into his arms. Watch as Diat starts to interrogate his captain for answers. Watch as Kalmia tries to keep their composure since they know the danger of being surrounded by the Navy, but still notice the way they begin to shake.

Diat was furious. “I’m not an idiot Captain, it is clear as day that you did this, but I just can’t figure why in the hell you would kill your own first mate.”

Crocodile is now appearing unfazed by it all, seemingly detached from the world around him. “They were going to try a mutiny in response to my new title as Warlord. They were the one who instigated a fight between us. I had no choice in the matter: it was me or them.”

Tink, who had been crying into Rutako’s shoulder, looked up at this. “That Marine said you killed them, in order to become a Warlord!”

The Vice Admiral who had been watching the scene as if it was normal to him, snorted at Tink’s call out. But Crocodile continued to back his lie. “They were going to betray me because I’ve already accepted that title. And now they are dead. There’s no way to change what’s been done.” He fixed Tink with an icy glare.

“Now get over it.”

Diat would never let anyone talk to your crew like that, not even Crocodile. You had seen him angry before, but now he was truly incensed. “They were our family! How fucking dare you tell us that!”

During all this commotion, a couple Marines walk up and begin to carry away the body. Rutako attempts to stop them, but guns are drawn on him in response. Diat points to the corpse. “Look at what you did to them. Look, you bastard! And now you’re letting them be taken by the Navy? You know what the Navy did to them! And to the people they loved!”

You can only watch as Diat finally also breaks down. “They belonged with us! Us, damnit!” Finally Kalmia interferes, setting a hand on Diat’s shoulder to pull him back. Kalmia guides him to where Tink and Rutako sat, regrouping the four of them.

Of course Sir Crocodile couldn’t allow them to grieve in peace for even a minute. “Listen up. From here on out things will be different. If I’m going to achieve my goals I need a loyal crew, not people who try to stab me in the back at the slightest thing.”

The four look up, still crying but managing to glare at their captain as well. He continues anyway, “However, if you are only going to follow me out of fear that I’ll kill you as well then I have no want for you. I need unwavering loyalty if I’m to rule the seas. This is your one chance to leave my crew without any consequence.”

The four are startled - and you as well. Mercy, after such cruelty? This was out of character for your captain, but you think you understood why.

You’re very familiar with cutting off the people you love because you love them.

They seem at a loss for an immediate response, but the Vice Admiral finally chimes in again. “Can you pirates figure out your problems elsewhere? I have better things to do tonight than listen to you all whine about some criminal getting what they deserve.”

The crew is clearly set off by this, words yelled immediately, but Crocodile steps between them and the Marine. “It’s time to go. Get up,” he commands to his crew who slowly and begrudgingly listen to him. The five walk out of the square in single file, Crocodile taking up the rear.

As they pass through the Navy barricade, Crocodile pauses, then turns and takes a glance in your direction. You duck back before he sees you, and take that as your cue to leave before anyone else notices your presence.

You don’t know how long you wandered. You recall wandering down the city, back to the shoreline. You found a small, dimly lit corner you deemed good enough for sitting in, and plopped yourself down. The adrenaline had worn off and the tears of the day had left you an empty shell of exhaustion.

You had only meant to close your eyes for a moment, have a chance to catch your breath, but you fell unconscious.

Eventually the early morning sun wakes you. It is the dawn of a new day, and you have no idea what you are going to do. Your body and heart still ache and your head pounds from dehydration.

You keep thinking about Tink and Diat.

Kalmia and Rutako.

Shanks and Buggy.

Rayleigh.

Crocodile.

The vivre cards.

That finally clicks. You can't let anyone else find those. Ditching your clothes on the ship would've been fine, but you can't leave the vivre cards. If Crocodile wants to turn in Roger pirates he has a whole free list to steal, one that'll lead him straight to them.

You have to get back to your ship.

Head pounding and vision fading temporarily as you stand, you try to orient yourself. Based on the sun’s position, you are on the north eastern side of Water 7. If you remember correctly, and if the ship hasn't been moved, your ship should be on the north western side. So not too far, but still not as close as you'd like.

So with a dry mouth and your disguise from last night still on, you make your way to your ship.

You find it docked where you left it. Sails tied up, anchored down, in pristine condition. And hopefully, empty.

You still didn't know what happened after your crewmates left the square last night. If any of the crew was still intact. If they were still alive.

When the ship docks most of the crew are typically thrilled to sleep in some fancy hotel with their own beds, but after the events of last night some may have left the hotel to stay on the ship.

The only way to find out was to look. You walked up the plank to the deck.

It was empty. Just as you had left it. No one at the crow’s nest, no one at the bow.

Then you went below deck to the cabins. No snores were behind any doors, and no sounds of pots and pans from the kitchen.

You finally arrived at your quarters and quietly opened your door.

There, on your bed, was a curled up tiny Tink.

You immediately went still, freezing every muscle, holding your breath.

She was out cold.

You slowly walked towards her. She clutched your pillow, burying her face into it. Short blonde hair stuck up on her head, tussled from her slumber. You wanted to reach out and fix it, but you had your priorities.

You walked to your dresser. Middle drawer, back left side, under some old t-shirts. The vivre box.

You grabbed it then began to quietly look around your old room. You spotted an old backpack of yours. You decided to take just a couple things, not too much so Tink wouldn't notice, but a couple old things that wouldn't be missed.

A couple of those old shirts, some pants that hadn't been worn in a while. Other little mementos and old knick knacks.

You paused after almost filling the bag and stared at a sword hanging by your door. It was your main weapon, gifted to you by the man who taught you to use it.

It was one of the few things you still had from your time on the Oro Jackson after Roger left.

You grabbed it, hoped Tink wasn't planning on taking it as a keepsake, and holstered it.

While doing a last sweep for things as Tink slept, you paused in front of your mirror. It was the first time you had looked at yourself wearing the mask since you grabbed it. The cloak hid your body entirely. You would never have recognized yourself.

In the mirror you notice it. It had been hanging around your neck for so long you hardly noticed its presence, its absence was more noticeable to you - it had been there that long. A necklace that matched ones around the necks of the other original five crewmates. A chain that hung a ring, a ring far too big for anyones hands. Except for your captains.

Years ago there had been a challenge to steal one of your captains rings. You at first claimed it was a stupid endeavor. Then when Diat showed off the ring he snagged, your old competitive streak came back. You managed to sneak one off Croc’s hands - no one was sure how you managed it, not even yourself. Then Kalmia got one, then Rutako, and finally, Tink. You all had succeeded and ended up keeping them as mementos. It became a symbol of the “first five” as other crewmates like to call you. Crocodile never asked for them back.

Now you stared at it hanging from your neck. Your hand clutched it, the cool metal burning your palm now. You wanted to tear it off, maybe leave it with Tink. But then you turned to look at her, still asleep on your bunk.

The rings no longer belonged to the captain. They belonged to you.

But you couldn’t leave your crew like this. You needed a way to say goodbye to your family.

You left your room, quietly closing the door behind you. You snuck into the captain's office - also empty - and grabbed a blank paper and pen. A letter would work. A letter that allowed you to say goodbye to your crew and warn them about battling Whitebeard.

After trying to compose your thoughts, and a couple discarded drafts, you ended up with this:

Dear Tink,

If you are reading this it means I have left the crew. I am sorry that it happened like this, but I simply cannot stand by Sir Crocodile any longer if this is the path he has chosen. I imagine my departure may cause some of the crew to want to leave as well, but do not be mistaken, I have no aspirations of being a captain myself.

This letter is a goodbye and a warning. The captain believes he can defeat Whitebeard. Apparently that’s part of his deal as a Warlord with the Navy. Let me clear: he has no chance of winning. Please don’t let him drag you and the rest of the crew to their deaths; it will be a massacre of the Neverland Pirates. whitebeard and my Captain Roger were lifelong rivals, I witnessed several of their battles last days on end. Whitebeard is the strongest man alive, with a fleet to match. Sir Crocodile has become delusional. If you hope to keep this letter at all, best not to tell him I said that.

If you ever reach the New World you might find me in Dressrosa. I’m not sure if I ever told you about it, but it is one of my favorite kingdoms I’ve ever been to. I believe it will be a nice retirement home for an old pirate such as myself.

I wish I had the courage to say goodbye to you and the others in person, but the truth of the matter is, I am a coward. I run when I get attached so others cannot hurt me. I understand the irony of hurting the ones I care about, but unfortunately this is my true nature.

I love you Tink. Thank you for being my family the past few years.

Your former first mate,

And then you signed your name on the letter with a shaky hand. It’s hard to write legibly with watery eyes.

You felt bad for not leaving a note for the others, but you knew that Tink would need this the most. You walked to Tink’s usual sleeping quarters, folded up the paper and stuck it under her pillow with just a corner peeking out with the hope she will find it.

And then, for the last time in your life, you walked off of Crocodile’s ship.

You wandered back into the streets of Water 7. You had taken your wallet from the ship as well - thanks to your years on the ship, you were pretty well off financially.

You found a street vendor in a market and grabbed something for breakfast. Eating in public didn't feel right especially with your crew still in town, so you scaled the buildings once again. Eating with a rooftop view was fun. Watching the city wake up and come to life.

You remembered visiting here before as a kid on the Oro Jackson. Apparently the man who built your ship lived on Water 7. He was a large fishman by the name of Tom.

You wondered if he still lived there.

As you pondered your situation with empty exhaustion, you noticed a news coo fly overhead. 24 hours ago it was the newspaper that started you on the path of your fabricated demise and subsequent departure from the crew.

Time to test your luck again.

You waved the bird down and it landed on the ledge in front of you. You aren't very good with animals, but if you've ever seen a bird look shocked, this was it.

You handed it the fee for the paper and it apprehensively handed you a copy, then took off with haste.

Confused, you open the paper. Then you understood the bird's reaction.

On the front of the paper was Crocodile’s face and your own. It announced the official instatement of Crocodile was one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, and your death as a former Roger’s Pirate.

Your apathy disappeared as it all sunk in again.

Sitting on the roof, you cried as you ate your food because you knew: you were alone and no one except the man you loved and the man who tried to kill you knew you were alive.

After a couple hours of walking through town and asking locals, you found Tom’s Workers.

During your search you learned that Tom was in hot water for building the Oro Jackson and he was now building a… water train? For the government. You knew this meant he may no longer have any sympathy for Roger and his old crew, but you had no other friends in Water 7, and no plausible means of leaving. Not when your face was in the morning’s paper, announcing your death to the world.

You stood on a nearby building, the roofs of Water 7 your new temporary home, and watched the workers from a distance. Tom is hard to miss - a giant yellow fishman, hoisting and tossing heavy materials as though they were light as a feather. Working alongside him was a tall teenage boy with dark purple hair who kept yelling at a younger boy with bright blue hair.

Their quarrels only made Tom laugh, mixed in with the occasional reminder to keep on task.

You didn't really understand what they were building or how it would work, but watching them made you feel as though you were watching a scene from your childhood.

It made you miss your brothers.

You waited till nightfall to approach them. The boys had left around sunset when an older woman came by to tell them to go have dinner. You followed them at a distance and planned to wait for at least two more hours, hoping the boys would go to sleep, so you could have the chance to talk to Tom alone. But only ten minutes passed when the door opened.

You hopped back from where you had been loitering, trying to hide from the light that poured from the doorway. However the woman who opened the door only looked amused.

“Tom says to come join us for dinner.”

You stood in the shadow for a minute trying to process what she said. But knowing you were going to approach them anyways, you gave up hiding and stepped into the light.

“I don't mean to intrude. I just hoped to ask Tom for a favor.”

The woman smiled and waved you in. “Why don’t you ask him over a warm meal?”

You walked inside. It was a small space, clearly the living space of shipwrights with papers, drafts and other craftsmans things scattered about. Tom and the boys sat around a dinner table, the boys giving you an odd look - you figured your mask and robes would lift eyebrows. The woman also noticed you made no motion to take off your disguise.

“It’ll be hard to eat with a mask on.” She smiled, still trying to coerce you to the table.

“Thank you, but I already ate.” You replied, choosing to awkwardly stand in the entryway instead.

“Kokoro’s food isn’t that great but it’s warm!” The blue haired boy piped up, a goofy grin on his face. His smartass comment however earned him a smack on the back of the head by the older boy who sat beside him.

“Franky, you can’t say things like that! Have you no respect for adults?” The purple haired boy reprimanded him.

“That’s enough you two, we have a guest.” Kokoro interjected, seemingly unfazed by Franky’s insult to her cooking. “Even if you aren't hungry, you can sit beside me as they finish if you’d like.” She turned to you as she rejoined the table offering the seat next to her.

You looked at the table; Tom took up the majority of one side with Kokoro next to him, and the boys sat across from them. You would end up sitting at the end of the table Between Kokoro and Franky. You cast a glance around the home and found no other space you could possibly stay in instead as you waited, so you ended up taking her offer at the table.

Dinner resumed as it had been before you joined. The boys bickered, but both would go silent to listen as Tom told stories. He had several, all about ships he had built or pirates he had encountered. The older boy, Iceberg, would discuss schematics and plans with Tom for projects beside the Sea Train. The younger boy Franky pulled out his own plans for small warships - meant to bring down Sea Kings apparently.

Kokoro just seemed to enjoy some booze and the company at the table.

Eventually, after some odd looks from Iceberg and invasive questions from Franky, the boys went to bed, Kokoro and Tom sending them off. Kokoro ended up leaving as well, and then it was you and Tom.

“Kokoro mentioned you wanted a favor from me? Just know I’m awfully busy with the Sea Train and I don’t have time for much else.” Tom had a friendly demeanor, but you could tell your insistence on hiding your appearance from them had bothered him.

You glanced at the door to the boys’ room. “Is it okay if we stepped outside? I think it may be best to leave others out of my problems if possible.”

Tom again seemed to question what was going on, but he stepped outside anyway. A couple yards from the house you handed him this morning’s paper. You braced yourself, then asked him, “How do you feel about the news of another Roger Pirates dying?”

Tom bristled, “Look, I’ve been welcoming but I have to know who you are. If you’re another CP agent I’ve told you I-” But before he could finish you pulled off your mask.

Tom froze.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Tom. I didn’t want to come here and endanger you and your family but I’m out of options. If there’s anything you know about a way I can escape Water 7 I would be grateful.” You rambled, trying to explain you knew his situation and that you could pay him for just a schedule, someway he might know of that could help you sneak off this island, but you didn’t quite finish your thoughts.

Tom reached out to you, and you flinched, preparing for the worst. Instead, he crouched down to eye level and rested the hand on your shoulder. His eyes were sad, mouth pressed into a hard line.

“If there’s anything I can do for one of Roger’s kids, I will do it without hesitation.”

You crumpled beneath the weight of his words. The smile that stretched across Tom’s face gave you the same feeling when Roger smiled at you after he told you you were no longer a slave.

For the first time since you got to Water 7, you felt safe.

More Notes: tysm for reading!! never expected so many people to want a continuation - i knew this is where it would go when i wrote pt 1, but im sure this is a surprise for some of you. i really appreciate comments and might write a non-canon compliant au of this soulmates fic - MAYBE, do not expect anything. also i cant write smut so it would just be fluff/ angst w comfort kind of thing. get dicked down by croc elsewhere

ily all, ty again - Ziro(Bitches)

#one piece #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #soulmate au #zirowrites #x reader

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biggiedraws · 2 months

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orv epilogue spoilers

the thing about yoohankim is. the deck is so astronomically stacked against them. theyre the opposite of "we were meant to find each other". kim dokja was supposed to live and die sad and unremarkable and alone - a tragedy thats not worth telling. and instead 2 people reached out to him across time and space, and it destroyed the world and caused all 3 of them lifetimes of misery, but it SAVED HIM. and they would do it again, in a heartbeat, because they love him. theyre not soulmates. it wasnt a destined meeting or a chance of fate - in fact, fate wants them to have nothing to do with each other, because fate is written by a child who believes himself to be unlovable and destined for tragedy. their lives were entangled by sheer force of will and resentment of the narrative, and it took 550 chapters and an endless journey to rewrite that narrative but whether they would do it or not was NEVER in question. they would do all that and more. they are reaching through the 4th wall to save their beloved reader. this post is not about kim dokja.

[okay admittedly this is mostly about the hsy epilogue, so its more doksoo than yoohankim, but also. yjh choosing to regress for the chance to meet his sponsor...... the end of the 1863rd turn...... the group regression...... he lived for kdj!!!! and kdj lived for him!!!! worlds apart but their connection saved them and doomed them and saved them again. and it was worth it. IM SO HRHRHHRGEHRG THIS FUCKING NOVEL!!!!!]

#feeling extremely normal about han sooyoung today #orv #orv spoilers #omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscient reader novel #omniscient reader spoilers #yeah this one goes in all the tags. im proud of it :3

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lume-nosity · 2 years

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until i found you

characters: albedo, kazuha, mona, xiao

style: fluff

song inspo: until i found you by stephen sanchez (it’s such a beautiful song :sobs:)

notes: reader is gender neutral, this is practically word vomit, not proofread, xiao’s part is pre-confession, i got a little lost writing for kazuha’s part, in mona’s part you and her are/were best friends, apologies for anything ooc im trying to test out writing for other characters, xiao’s karmic debt gets soothed by you (this is listed because i overuse this but i love it), lowercase intended

albedo

as it’s known, albedo’s not used to having to put up with relationships. but ever since you’ve walked into his life that seemed to change. first meeting him when he was doing an experiment and you offered to help. the way you’re patient and reassuring makes him feel warm inside despite being originally made from chalk. you made him feel human. and your eyes, he’d always wonder what makes them look so breathtaking. it may seem off, but in his perspective, your eyes shine like that of a shimmering star. and he would love to research about them too. especially your likes, dislikes, personality, all that jazz. you’re just a stunning person, a stunning mystery. something he’d like to learn more about. even going as far as to ask you questions relating to his research (aka you). and don’t be surprised when you find a painted canvas of yourself at your doorstep as well as a bouquet of your favorite flowers. this is his way of saying he loves you. even though he was taught of the ways of alchemy and other knowledge correlating to the world and is incapable to understand the concept of what love truly means. but with you by his side, maybe then will he know as time goes on.

kazuha

he always follows the wind, right? now, how about he views you as a maple leaf flying with the wind? yes, you mean that much to him. he owes you his life after everything you’ve done for him. before, when you trusted him enough to take him into your stead, not being afraid despite him wielding a blade, and let alone having a wanted samurai in your home! you cared enough to take care of him even after the explanations. you didn’t care, you just wanted to keep him safe. he is deeply grateful of your kind act. and yet can’t ignore that warm feeling in his heart. however overtime you knew he can’t stay in one spot, as he’s a wanderer. so when you both had to part ways and bid each other farewell when the hunting started to die down, he’d vowed he’ll see you again. to truly give you his thanks. and present time, he has! you reunited with him at an isolated flower field. it was no surprise that the winds led you both together again, in a beautiful atmosphere. that was when you two realized you have feelings for each other and were honest about them. both feeling relieved that the other has felt the same way. the maple leaf to his wind, the muse to his poems, and now nature will guide this relationship to go far and wide.

mona

mona believed that chance has brought you two together. the stars were aligned and clear, that you both were destined to be together. she cannot foretell her fate, but she can foretell yours. you know she’s an astrologer, and is always telling the truth of one’s fate no matter how saddening or shocking it is. because that’s the way of astrology, yes? mona’s afraid to disappoint you after knowing what your future would look like. she is this close to you and she wouldn’t want to ruin your shared bond. well, even after knowing the warnings, you still want to know what your future would be like. you don’t care if it’s good or bad, because the truth is the truth. and you trust mona. so when she performed a hydromancy for you, everything was crystal clear in mona’s eyes. mona had to stop and process what was displayed in front of her. the future is known, that you two are meant to be together. she was flustered and tried to keep her composure but failed courtesy of her pink blush plastered on her face. destiny can’t lie about this, it’s written in the stars. she even performed a divination to put the icing on the cake. again, destiny can’t lie about these things. your fates were sealed. but what mona missed on her scryglass is that you too, feel the same way. surprising how pure chance can lead two stars to intertwine, it’s such a beauty.

xiao

he won’t admit it, but your stubbornness won him over. whenever he keeps telling you to stay away from him because of his karmic debt you always stuck to him like glue. at first this was annoying to him, because you’re like a stain that’s unable to be cleaned. he finds it irritating to say the least because he’s just trying to keep you safe and yet here you are taking every chance to see him. but now, he’s at ease. he doesn’t mind the accompaniment. only if it’s you. he can’t help but wonder ‘how can a mortal be this persistent?’ and how your presence soothes him like that of a blanket enveloping him; ridding him of any karmic debt lingering within him. the feeling is warm and softer than the almond tofu he’s usually served at the inn. you even listened in to his past because he trusts you that much. and for you to give him a simple hug made his brain malfunction. sure, he isn’t used to physical contact, but this is different. it cleanses him of his debt, the screams in his head subsided, it’s quiet. he closes his eyes and his arms shakily moved on their own and wrapped themselves around you as well. ‘thank you.’ is what he said. he tightened the hug a little while you rubbed circles around his back. he doesn’t understand how can a mortal like yourself be this sympathetic towards a yaksha who had done terrible things in the past and yet you showed bits and pieces of comfort despite it all. you understood him. because of this he silently promised himself that he will always protect you no matter how small or insignificant the matter is and to always be there for you. and maybe someday, he will realize his feelings for you. maybe someday he will realize he does have a purpose. this is the first step in changing xiao’s thoughts towards himself, and to you. and you’re right there to see it all.

an: so here’s the second upload for today! surprise surprise! i hope my word vomit will do your hearts justice because one time i’ve made my english teacher cry and be impressed by writing something similar to these,,, but anyways, i hope you enjoyed reading this little something and i’ll be going to bed now good night :)

#✏️ lume writes #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #mona x reader #xiao x reader #albedo x you #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x you #mona x you #xiao x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff

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senseioftheseidiots · 7 months

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Me with Canon Wu: You let your brother go get your stuff for you and look what happened. You made a 'friend' of a Serpentine and taught her something you shouldn't have and looked what happen ! You filled a young child's mind up with dreams and broke them down and look what happened !! And even now with the Ninja, you don't tell them a single warning before they go into battle and LOOK WHAT'S STILL HAPPENING !! And after all of that, I find myself-!! Me with Your Wu:...still coming back here even though I shouldn't because you really need help with your issues and everyone makes mistakes and your superior- Nah, nah, I'm kidding but in all seriousness, your version is kind of what I want to believe for the character now. I don't hate on the original Wu since you can't beat the original but you also can't beat the fanon ! So with lots of love, enjoy making more content for him !

This has been sitting in my asks because I completely forgot about it- so ill use this as a headcanon dump, thankyou >:) You throw out alot of points here on the segment for canon wu, so let me throw in things ive held onto in hc to all of it PLEASE NOTE MOST IF NOT ALL OF THESE IS HC ALONE/TIMELINE SPECULATION "You let your brother go get your stuff for you and look what happened." This happened AFTER the meet with aspheera I believe, after it happened the two were forbidden to go outside monastery walls without permission, completely isolating them from the outside world in hopes nothing like that would happen again. Wu at this point was incredibly afraid to disobey his father because if their punishment from last time was isolation from a world outside their monastery, what more could happen to them? [it only got worse from there, but we arent talking about that yet.] "You made a 'friend' of a Serpentine and taught her something you shouldn't have and looked what happen !" Wu genuinely just wanted to be friends with someone, being the sons of god the fsm was rather picky on who exactly got to see the two. And he's never made proper connections until now, through out the entirety of their childhood [before teens] im pretty sure all wu knew as companionship was his brother, and when he found someone willing to help them, he didnt want to think about the warnings for the chance that she might actually be good, and that keeping a promise was the way to gain a friend " You filled a young child's mind up with dreams and broke them down and look what happened !! " If were talking about morro here, ANOTHER HC TIME to fuel my delulu state, look- He didnt WANT him to fight garmadon, hear me out here- if you go back to the scene of morro being tested to be the green ninja, the sword of fire ISNT the sword of fire. My hc here is this is the ONE time he's tried to change destiny for the better. It doesnt mean morro was destined, no, this was going to happen either way, but he tried changing destiny because this wasnt morro's fight, and he was afraid of what may need to come if it DID end up being him that was destined. He didnt want that. But when he did do it and got his own student killed [he tried finding him. he tried getting him back, he didnt want to come back.] He gave up. And this is where his mindset solidified, he couldnt change destiny, people will die, and itll be his fault. This was his fathers punishment for him. " And even now with the Ninja, you don't tell them a single warning before they go into battle and LOOK WHAT'S STILL HAPPENING !! " This one is funny to me cause, one, wu doesnt know how to fucking trauma dump I dont think he would even be able to think about it unless someone asks him, its actually the 'it never came up' thing. BUT, he wouldnt want to say much too quickly due to Morro's incident. Hell he didnt even want the ninja to see the green ninja scroll. If he had said too much too quickly, well theyll either turn evil or die..or both-

" .still coming back here even though I shouldn't because you really need help with your issues and everyone makes mistakes and your superior- " Hehe, thank you!!! I hope you enjoy the buncha headcanons i have here for you

#master wu #ninjago #ninjago wu #wu #ninjago master wu #lego ninjago #sensei rambles #ninjago wu headcanon #ninjago headcanon #sensei wu

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turntechgodbeheaded · 2 months

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LITERALLY thinking about hal ambro in a selfshippy sense. Oh my god. Guy who is so so controlling. He’d probably keep me locked in the apartment and cite shit about how the world is dangerous, i’m more likely to injure myself in some manner by tripping and falling than i am to make it to my destination, let alone unharmed. He then rattles off some statistics, and i’m sure it’s bullshit (it is), but i can’t prove it because he child proofed the computer personally and makes the google logo appear as a crudely drawn children’s drawing of smuppets as the letters of google and everything i google shows up as like a literal jpeg of hashtag kawaii sparkledog l33t 5|)34< in bubblegum pink (because i’m a girl) so i can’t even check and verify his sources (he’s lying) but in the end he even gives an accurate scientific citation and lists the name of the article and i’m like fuck is it legit? It must be if it’s cited … that’s a lot of shit to do just to convince me… he is an ai though… but wait does he care enough to do that? And even though i’m too confused to escape i couldn’t even if i wanted because he integrated with the door and it’s perma locked . I’m basically his hamster and i’m about to die a strange bizarre and twitter worthy death as i start chewing my toes off because of the boredom. He gives me these super balanced meals and picks my clothes and turns the lights off personally to simulate a day and night cycle and shuts off the power to any electronic im using to encourage me to go to bed . This includes turning the lights off if i’m hobbying. I can’t talk to any other person because who do i need except him? He messes with me all day because i can’t verify shit. He lives in another part of the apartment building but has cameras everywhere so he can watch me and talk through the cameras. When he wants to punish me he stops responding through the cameras since he’s never in the room and i can never talk to anyone face to face so i go a little crazier when the cameras are off. He tries to see what’s plausible enough for me to believe and what i’m most gullible to fall for. Everything i have to have goes through him . Oh my god oh my g

#i’m high ws hell btw #hal ambrose #hal strider #also he’d undoubtedly be taller than me #i’m 5’1 #so uh #yeah i can inagine him using that to advantage

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pjo-obsessed-nerd · 2 months

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sometimes valentines day really sucks lmfao i was talking to a guy 2 weeks ago, we made plans to go on a coffee date, and see a movie, and then he ghosted me. i had to go to dillons for my dad, running on 2 hours of sleep, already overstimulated, and walked into a crowd of 20 ppl all around the florist stall (which is directly in the way of our pharmacy, my destination), and then a guy came up and stood less than an inch from my back to reach for a flower that was behind my shoulder, so i started panicking. When i tried to leave, more people had come in so i literally could not get to the front doors without touching over 3 ppl at once. I literally ran out of the store crying because i was freaking out and people were staring at me. On top of that, we had no food at home that i can eat without making a fiver person meal, so i went hungry. i made brownies, burned the tops while simultaneously making the bottoms too liquidy to taste any good, let alone be safe to eat. when i went to vent to my mom, instead of being sympathetic and saying it would get better (what i needed/wanted to hear) she told me to stop bitching about it. For dinner, we had tortallini, which is normally amazing, but the tomato sauce literally made my mouth itch (Which is something i only experience when i eat citrusy foods, and im allergic to citrus, but this feeling was 10x worse), and my paycheck dropped just in time for me to get a meal from wendys before going to work on another 2 hours of sleep. The 3rd book of the series im reading (Newsflesh Trilogy by Mira Grant, it's zombies, conspiracy, journalism, tiniest bit of romance but i would die for Shaun and Bekks to kiss just one more time, go check it out if that sounds cool to u) won't be here for another week after i finished the second one on a major cliffhanger, and i haven't written anything in nearly a month. the times tamps of my book says as much. Also, i'm single, all my friends have boyfriends or girlfriends, and every guy or girl i talk to ghosts me after learning i have adhd/am working on a autism diagnosis. that, and my friends are lowkey ignoring me. on valentines day of all days, so the one group of people i'm supposed to be able to talk to when my life gets shitty the same way they talk to me when their lives get shitty have just been ignoring me for like, a week. idk what to do, cus im torn between punching a wall and curling into a ball so tight that i just POP out of existence. Anyway, sorry for the rant. if you read this far, i appreciate and love you <3

#valentines day #today sucks #newsflesh #mira grant #failing as a writer?#single on valentines day #mental health #mental illness #mentally fucked

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j4y-lvr · 1 year

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hi can I request a hitman! jungwon x reader where jungwon has a mission to deliver a car to some mafia or high profiled person, which is kinda off to his job of getting rid of people, but while driving he hears a bump sound inside the trunk of the luxurious car, inside the military aircraft he decided to open the cars trunk, and he saw a girl in a senior high school uniform, blindfolded and her mouth is taped, he saw a letter beside the girl

"deliver this car with the girl alive after landing to this location xxxxxx, get rid of anyone following you, only drive the car, dont take any flights to avoid the girl being tracked"

he removes the girls mouth and blindfold , to see ,its the daughter of someone in the politics (vice president) , he realize that the person behind this mission is gonna use her to make her father withdraw his position

y/n tries to escape from jungwon because she thought hes gonna kill her, but she failed to escape him obviously, she cried and want to go back home, she begs jungwon not to kill her

jungwon have to choose if hes going to do his job , to deliver the girl in 30 days from the other side of the country, so they might grow feelings with each others company, the idea is like the movie Hitman if 2007?

NOTE. this is my first request so im not really sure if this is good- i kept most of it in mind while writing but I'm not sure if it turned out okay since I was out of ideas😭

WORDCOUNT. 3.1k

PAIRING. hitman!jungwon x important!personality!female!reader

GENRE. angst, some fluff(?)

WARNINGS. none(?), lmk if I should add any

"deliver this car to the military base by 25th"

read the message as jungwon peered his eyes further to the brooding brightness from his cellphone. Its sole use to keep himself notified and contacted about his little ventures they paid him to act on.

Mainly these messages were sent from anonymous people from various locations demanded that a certain victim be killed, and some specified how they'd want that soul dead. Those very orders were to be carried out by his hands. Often, the details inscribed were a bit too excruciating even for someone who murdered for a living.

Yet he obeyed them, getting it down to the last detail.

Why? He was paid to do so, this was his life day in and out, the familiar scarlet that painted his surrounding, sometimes his own clothes as the person fiddled to get away from him. Though, some, surprisingly, accepted their fate as jungwon drew their blood and causing the vessel their soul occupied to go limp.

With all the lives he'd taken, he was sure he was never destined for happiness, let alone joy. It was the main reason he had maintained such distance from everyone around him, one slip up and he would get attached and then die causing them pain.

He didn't fear death at all, he awaited it.

He found it quite easy to relate to the victims who simply accepted their fate to eternal slumber and letting their soul wander the depths of afterlife. It seemed more appealing than living another second in this black and white world his with the repeated hint of crimson splashing over.

An unbreakable cycle, one might say; he would rise awake, check the cellphone, sigh and head out to complete his orders, receive the money and just let it lie in his account. He didn't even yearn for the monetary benefit; it was merely a bonus for him. Yes, he found himself guilty of taking so many lives, yet he couldn't break free from it.

Why'd he bothers even saving up the money if he had no connections to pass it on too when the day dawned upon him for death. Possibly because he held onto the belief that someone, no, rather, anyone, out there would be there for him.

It was quite foolish of him. He knew his deeds costed him his fulfillment of life and its vast experiences with joy. But he kept treading along the line, longing for someone to help him out of it.

Drawling in his thoughts, he ruffled his slightly wet jet hair, the sheets rustling as he hopped off the mattress with the cell in his pocket. He fitted a black and white checkered cardigan, a duffle bag hung over his shoulder, slamming the front door behind him.

Irritated, jungwon sighed, going from walking to the location to jogging to sprinting. He wasn't to scour the place for a Persian blue BMW in the far distance with such little information to go off.

He brings his palms to his face and muffles a gnarle of anger and turns out hastily, finding the car right before him. He quips his mouth shut and walks over the polished vehicle, the deep blues shining in his eyes as he finds himself mesmerized in its beauty.

He blinks rapidly, recovering from his trance over the metallic vehicle and began to inspect for keys. His hand running over the hold, his cell dings, and a message appears:

"it's near the window wipers"

Jungwon raises a brow, glancing left and right and tugging his cap further before lurching to the access of the car. Stifling, he made progress to the door rather slow and cautious, after all, he had eyes on him.

A previous notice would've been nice, but his job required him to do and be anything but nice. He hadn't been informed anyway and he'd already lent out his hand in a handshake to deliver this across to the military base in tip top condition.

Nothing could be done now.

Unlocking the car, he sat at the wheel, throwing his weightsome bag in the back. His hand taking interest in the leather touched steering wheel. He sank into the comfortable seat and sighed as his stomach grumbled, not that he took notice of it. The interior was a nice metallic grey finish, busy taking in the car he'd be driving around for a while.

Wouldn't it be nice to own a car like this. Maybe later, in the future. And there he was again, in his thoughts, red handed. He spoke about his future like he was expecting one, and he'd rather not have any expectations when it came to his life, karma was soon on it's very way and he would succumb to it without a squeak.

No savior nor angel would show up on the whim and grant him his so-called happiness, not that he thought he should deserve any, not after robbing all those people of their lives. Jungwon shook his head and switched on the car with a press of a button and levered on the pedal, his arm rolling round the wheel to steer. He pulled out the unnamed place and drove off.

A day passed as he sat delusional at the wheel, in the buzz of a stringent straight line of a path directing him. He would've drove the car into a wall several times and the only thing holding him from doing so was the money and that fact that the police would run a background check on him.

He'd rather lay low for his remaining time on earth than run around avoiding press and kin for making headlines.

Jungwon couldn't seem to catch a break, contrary to his recent thoughts as the familiar adrenaline kicked in at the sound of gunshots to the vehicle. An intrusion, calculated amidst plains of road with no onlookers.

He sighs, his foot quick to power further ahead and attempt to derail them, seeing as though he sat alone with no one to peek out the window and fire. And almost quizzical with timing, a diversion in roads appeared, the mapping device dictating a sharp right turn but the person trailing him said otherwise.

Jungwon forcefully took the right turn, watching the rear mirror for guidance whether to proceed with his next move. He maneuvered to the edge, the vehicle behind tailing the opposite edge while watching him.

The time presided, pressing the brakes, the tires screeching due to the friction as the car roared ahead in a fury while jungwon fumbled and managed a rather hasty u-turn. His body leaned to the door and a large thud emitted from the back of the car, raising his suspicion.

He'd successfully thrown off the car behind him a few meters yet what was in the back that caused a ruckus behind? He had to inspect it, and he would at that moment if he weren't caught in this rat race.

He zoomed ahead for longer, the tailing car still unable to gain enough traction to aim for jungwon and shoot him. He continued down a different path than the map, profuse curses leaving his mouth as he it'd take him longer to actually deliver the car with no damage to it.

Luck was on his side as he rampaged into a small metropolitan city, jungwon lit his infamous killer smile while making his way through an amass of turns. They seemed to have lost him in the city as jungwon drove untrailed.

He headed straight towards the shadiest looking establishment in the place. He was in dire need of a change of clothes and a setting to avoid those men again. They didn't look like the type to get fooled more than once.

The tires screech and come to a nasty stop as he pulled in the parking lot of what seemed to be a bar. Hitting the bar in the early hours of the afternoon under the scorching sun didn't seem fitting but it'd suffice as a distraction.

Jungwon grabbed and slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, unlocking the back of the car and to his grave surprise, lay a girl, awake and tear-struck in what he made out to be a school uniform, battered and tied up with a cloth around her mouth to muffle any sounds she made.

And that wasn't the most groundbreaking thing of all, beside her lay a note. He had a choice to make and he untied her urging her to stand up while grabbing the note and heading inside the building in a yank of her hand.

Whatever he was in store for was going to be interesting for sure.

—

He exited the restroom in a fresh pair of clothes, slugging over to the table he'd sat you down at. Part of him hoped you'd made your attempt at escaping so he'd have some weight lifted off his shoulders.

But no, you sat waiting obediently, staring at your hands in the pool of your skirt. He shook his head and walked over, placing the bag down and rummaging through it for a pair of sweats.

"here," he beckoned your attention at the enunciating of his words, his eyes falling flat against your hesitant ones as you seemed to muster up a few words. He shoved the cloth into your hands and directed you towards the restroom.

"i dont have time to waste," he threatened, pushing you in the door and shutting it rather harshly. You laid in the back of the car for over 2 days and you were absolutely scared for you life whether he would take your life at any moment.

You shuffled into the clothes he offered, making up your mind to take everything the boy did with caution. You couldn't help but wonder where the rescue team was.

Jungwon on the other hand busied himself with researching just who you were. A few searches revealed more information adding to his already existing burden. You left, tugging on the drawstrings of the blue hoodie he gave you.

A hand stayed at his temple as he found himself in a misery.

"are you... from the rescue team?"

He panned his head to you in a frenzy, his sharp glare cutting you into pieces, "no."

"who are you, then?" you quizzed, studying his fumed expression. He got to his feet, his quick steps in progress demanded you to follow him. "that doesn't matter at the moment, follow me."

and bang. echoed the sound of the door slammed open where two angered men stood, enraged. Jungwon peered around with wide eyes, clasping you wrist and cramming into the narrow hallway for the exit. The men after jungwon made considerable progress, inspecting those around.

He ordered you to keep calm and to continue moving towards the exit. A small distance way was the door, making both of practically lunge for it before a yelled broke through in the way. You panicked, heaving rather intense as jungwon trapped you to the wall, inching closer to you.

"stay still," he whispered in the cave of your ear, chills running down your spine as the proximity of his face to yours began collapsing and the men ran by, in search of the very boy.

"he was in a black pullover!" shouted the man behind the two, not suspecting either, your head turning in their direction, making it rather obvious that you staring at the situation in front of you.

A finger to your chin met your gaze with jungwon's as he redirected your head from those men to him. The same finger reaching your lips slowly and shushing you. He gawked into the abyss of his brooding eyes, admiring all the hidden warmth behind them.

For those who stood watching the two, it seemed as though the boy and captured your lips in a lock, dancing with his own, expressing his feelings. Quite the opposite ran along the lines of fake and real, jungwon's minty breath fanning your face as he looked down at you, analyzing each feature of youre, down to your fear-ridden orbs.

"he's not here, he must've abandoned the car here to throw us off!" exclaimed another from the other side of the booming club. The men scurried off as jungwon wrapped his arm around your waist to avoid suspicion, "we'll talk later, don't say anything," he mumbled loud enough for you to hear.

—

Halting at a gas station way off course the trail, jungwon massaged his temples as you seemed to wander off in the convenience store. He filled up on gas, and left to check up you, still hoping you ran away.

But no. You were right there, stood in-between an isle full of instant snacks and what not, staring intensely at the row, pondering with your pick already clasped in your hand.

He sighed, trudging over to you while you noticed his presence and uttered, "i didnt know what you'd want—" and he hastily grabbed the first one in sight. Striding to the counter, paying and to the vehicle, seemingly examining if there was any noticeable damage to it.

"get in," he ordered, making you walk to the back of the car and grasp the handle, causing a hiss from jungwon. "i meant in front, yn"

"you know who i am?" you inquired in a panic, retracting your hand from its previous position.

"get in, i'll talk then,"

You obliged with little to no choice, clicking the seatbelt to your side and practically flinging your head to the side, only to find his eyes already locked on you. Clearing your throat, you muster to ask, "are you going to kill me?"

Jungwon chuckles, his lips pulling into a small smirk, "depends," he states, leaving your to your frantic thoughts again, "there are others that want you dead more, though." he completes, your eyes blinking at a turtles pace, attempting to keep you grounded.

"who wants me dead?" you pry, your eyes devoid of fear, catching his notice. He expected a look of fear and you returned nothing than a blank space.

"your father," he replied, nonchalantly, not taking a second to even think about your feelings upon hearing that.

"stop lying" you say, denying his claims. Jungwon throws his head back, "fine, then why don't you try ringing up your dad and asking him about your rescue team?" he said, offering his cell.

You hesitant gaze confirms his suspicion and he closes his palm, tucking the phone in his pocket. No one had come to resuce you in over the days of your kidnapping, and you held onto to the string of hope that they would and had to come save you.

Yet, here you were, in this unknown mans car, having the harsh truth slapped right to your face. You purse your lips, racking you brain from explanations.

"stop trying to find an excuse and eat,"

—

Jungwon was exhausted, he drove throughout the night to make up for the lost time. In the middle of his journey he contacted a friend to figure out who commissioned him to drop this car to the base, and unfaithfully his hunch was more than spot-on.

You dozed off quite a while ago with no words exchanged, occupied in your thoughts, watching as the trees waned and waxed upon entering and exiting small towns in the outskirts.

"we're almost there," he whispers to himself, glancing at your angelic figure and back at the narrow belt of road, taking a small detour, having arranged a place to station you at.

He thought about what to do with you long and hard, replaying the look of your feared eyes in the back of his head. It was different, and it made him feel human emotions, like he hadn't threatened your living before.

He parked a good distance away from the vicinity, knowing well that the car had a tracker. He shook you awake from your peaceful slumber, the back of your hand swiping the drowsiness from your orbs.

You exited, staggering and swaying before gaining stability over your body, following the figure by his broad back, often bumping into him. You stopped walking after seemingly 45 minutes at a rundown building, "stay here till i return,"

He pointed to the door, shuffling around for the eyes beneath the torn mat before the door. You take a good look around you and at the door. "alright."

And like that you accepted your fate.

"you can escape if you like, i'll check if youre still there in a day or so,"

Jungwon gave you look and handed you half of his belongings and left, giving a small head pat and walking away so fast like he was embarrassed.

Frankly, jungwon had no idea what he was going to do. And he wasn't sure if thats a good a or bad thing considering he pulled up to the gates of the military base with you, who came with the car.

It baffled him that he would possibly get hurt because of someone else than himself for the first time in his life, and he didn't know what compelled him to save you either.

He drove into the base, exhaling as he parked the car and unbuckled the seat belt and tensed his muscles before loosening them to assume the worst, a fight of some sort.

He exited the vehicle, taking a few glances around and it was surprisingly empty, unlike his train of thoughts. Was a sniper on standby? Would he be killed the moment they realized you weren't there.

"leave."

Bewildered, jungwon stared at the text, voicing his confusion, "what..."

"leave, your work here is done."

And so jungwon left the base with no mode of transport to get him home, stranded in the middle of ghost town with you a good distance from him. He was forced to the walk the way, with no text from the commissioner, thinking over all the possibilities that could've took place.

Before one theory of his began to make too much sense, sending him in a frenzy. The thought of you being dead at his hands sent a shock down his spine, his feet taking off in a flight.

He traced the familiar tracks around the abandoned house, a sign that he was closer to you. Banging on the front door, he gasped for air, hoping you were still there, alive.

Weight lifted off his shoulders as you peered throught the peep hole, observing the stranger who'd mysteriously helped you at the front door. You unlocked the door and were engulfed in an embrace, leaving you wide eyed.

He peeled himself off you as fast as he did embrace you, "i'm not a hugger," he stated sheepishly, the slight red tint on his cheeks giving it away. You laugh, pulling him into a hug, feeling him tense at the contact.

His cell buzzed, reaching for it. A text from the commisioner.

"the girl's gone, but knowing you, you probably killed her. thanks."

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kptssecretsanta · 4 months

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Merry Christmas, @monochrome-crisis!

Dear @monochrome-crisis, I have really enjoyed writing this for you, and I hope you like it. Your prompts were delightful and it was a lot fun playing around with these two. Happy Holidays if you observe, and happy fic-gift-day to you if you don’t! Best, your anon gifter.

TAGS: established relationship, secret relationship, arranged marriage, road trip, sort of, running away,

SUMMARY: Chay stands quite still and watches him for several seconds, but it doesn’t help to make the jumble of nonsense words rearrange themselves into useful sentences in his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says slowly. “An inauspicious start to what, precisely?”

“Why, to your marriage, of course!”

*****

can’t let this wait one more day

It’s Tankhun who accidentally breaks the news to Chay, on a rainy October afternoon when he’d expected to face nothing more challenging than a couple of hours playing the new Spider-Man game. A problem with his XBox has him venturing down to Arm’s office-cum-armoury-cum-tech lab, where he finds Tankhun sitting cross-legged on the floor, cutting pictures of floral arrangements and men in alarmingly colourful suits out of a vertiginously tall stack of bridal magazines. He snips some of them out with painstaking precision, and scratches the scissors angrily across others, his choices made according to some arcane and unknowable criteria. The images that survive his process are passed to Arm, who dutifully and efficiently pastes them down into a pastel pink, faux-fur-covered scrapbook.

“Khun? Is everything… Are you ok?”

“Auhhh! My favourite brother-in-law!” Tankhun cries at a volume that isn’t quite ear-piercing, but is certainly louder than required given the three of them are alone in an echo-y room, and Chay’s ears are less than thirty centimetres away from his mouth. “Everything is so much more than fine! It’s all wonderful! Practically perfect, in fact! Only do say you’ll let me dress you, nong, it would kill me to see you walk down the aisle in someone else’s shoes! And you wouldn’t break my heart like that, hmm, not on your wedding day? It would be a harbinger of so, so much bad luck! Such an inauspicious start, no?!”

Chay stands quite still and watches him for several seconds, but it doesn’t help to make the jumble of nonsense words rearrange themselves into useful sentences in his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says slowly. “An inauspicious start to what, precisely?”

“Why, to your marriage, of course!”

***

“Nothing is set in stone,” Arm promises him, trying to calm him down while Tankhun flaps off to find Porsche. “It’s just an idea, at this stage, that’s all. Just something that was suggested - really, it’s more like it was vaguely alluded to - at the last family meeting. It doesn’t mean you have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

The atmosphere in Arm’s little misery-bunker has always been a bit sad, but it’s never felt quite as overwhelmingly damp and awful as this moment in time.

“I know you mean well, but ‘we might not marry you off against your will’ isn’t actually as reassuring as you seem to think it is,” Chay points out. He’s just pleased he can still form coherent words; that must mean the worst of the panic attack is subsiding.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Arm says, and Chay tries very hard to find the deeply sympathetic look on his face comforting instead of terrifying.

***

Chay: hey

Chay: u busy?

Chay: i need to see u its urgent

Chay: ive run away im at the boba place

Chay: the one with the cute plants inside where you kissed me that time

Chay: pls don’t take long they’re cutting me off

not my secret bf: be there in ten

***

Macau picks Chay up in his older brother’s convertible, stolen for the occasion, and drives off without any questions. The extent to which he’s ride-or-die is, in Chay’s opinion, one of his absolute top-ten best traits. At Chay’s request, he heads out of the city, no particular destination in mind. He doesn’t say anything until they’re far enough out they’re relying on headlights, and the sound of rain on the windscreen is louder than the traffic.

“Whatever happened, it’s ok, babe. I promise.”

“You won’t say that when you know!” Chay cries. “Hia wants me to get married, Cau, it’s really serious!”

“What?”

“That’s what Arm said. And Khun! I’m sorry, babe, I know he’s your cousin, but also. What the fuck? How could he know something like that and not tell me!” Chay’s voice rises frantically, reaching a fever pitch as he vents his frustration at once again being the last one to find out important information about his life. “Oh my god, what if it’s to some disgusting greasy old man who wants a good little wifey, that Kinn needs to sign some business deal with?” Chay says suddenly, face awash with horror.

“Ok, first of all,” Macau says, glancing over at Chay from the driver’s seat of with a grin of a distinctly gremlin-y variety creeping across his face, “if Kinn needed someone to sign a contract that badly, he’d just break their fingers until they signed it.”

“That’s not reassuring, Cau.”

“And second of all,” Macau presses on, ignoring Chay’s point completely, “I’m not gonna let you marry anyone else, so it doesn’t matter anyway, hmm?”

“You really think they’ll listen to you?”

Macau frowns, impish grin fading as quickly as it had appeared, and clicks his fingernails on the wheel, the way Vegas really hates. “I dunno. Maybe? And if they don’t, we could just… leave, I guess.”

“I’m not - listen, babe, I love you, but your uncle kept my mum locked away in an attic for eighteen years because she married the wrong guy, so like. I don’t have that much faith in Kinn or Korn or Vegas to be super chill about someone trying to leave the family.”

Macau shoots him a quick glance, eyes slicking sideways before snapping back to the road. “Well, if you put it like that…”

“Look, you don’t have to come with me,” Chay says, voice laced with grim determination. “I know you – all your family are here, your whole life is here. But I think I have to leave.”

“Ok, ok. But you don’t have to go now,” Macau says. “We can come up with a real plan, take a little time.”

“I can’t go back. I can’t walk back in there. I can’t spend another second there.”

Macau swerves suddenly and pulls up on the side of the road, switching the engine off but leaving the headlights on, so the curtains of thick rain ahead of them are illuminated in their glow. Turning to face Chay, he reaches over and takes his hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing gently.

“Hey,” Macau says softly, which catches Chay’s attention more than any amount of screaming would have. “I’m sorry my family is such a fucking nightmare. I’m not - of course I’m not gonna make you go back. If you wanna leave tonight and never come back, we can do that.”

“But?” Chay asks nervously. Macau lifts a questioning eyebrow. “It sounded like there was a ‘but’ coming next.”

“Nope,” Macau says easily, shaking his head and letting Chay see the truth shining bright in his eyes. “No ‘but.’ I’d follow you anywhere, Porchay.”

“Cau…” Chay says, releasing the name like an invocation into the night air.

Macau stares at him, gaze far too intense to bear for long, and then he turns to look out at the road spilling away into the darkness ahead of them. “Chay, you know, we could - if you want - they can’t make you marry anyone if you’re already married.”

“Fuck.” Chay lets out a breath, a long, deep exhalation that carries away half the tension in his whole frame. “How are you so perfect when your family is so…”

“Shit, no idea.” Macau laughs and it’s not pleasant. “This is why I didn’t want to tell them about us. They ruin everything they touch, and I wanted to try and keep you whole as long as possible. So I’d get it, you know, if you don’t want - augh!”

Macau shrieks a little, very bravely, as Chay throws himself across the centre console and clambers eagerly if awkwardly into his lap, winding long slender brown arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely until one of them accidentally jams a knee into the horn.

***

The hotel is not quite clean enough to be boring, and just a little too rundown to be charming. It’s the last place anyone would ever think to look for them, which means it’s Macau’s new favourite spot. He pays for one room, daring the older man behind the desk to say something about the way he has his arm wrapped around Chay’s waist, fingers tapping out a gentle rhythm on his hips. Chay’s arm is draped over his shoulder in turn, so he can lean easily into his side, soaking up his warmth.

There’s a horrible pause where the guy hangs on to the key a little too long, and then Macau tips his chin up defiantly. His hand closes around the key and whisks it away from him.

“We can find it ourselves,” he says. It’s not until they’re halfway down the hallway to their room that he realises the guy had absolutely no intention of helping them with their bags.

Not that they have bags, per se. Chay has his old school backpack with him, which he’d hurriedly stuffed with a couple of pairs of underwear and some clean socks, a spare power bank for his phone and laptop, and more snacks than Macau’s seen in one place outside of a child’s birthday party.

Macau, on the other hand, has his phone, battery currently hovering around 19%, and his wallet.

“I thought,” Chay says defensively, when he catches Macau eyeing his stash, “that I might have to get the bus somewhere.”

Macau shrugs out of his bomber jacket and tosses it haphazardly across the room. “You shut your mouth. My fiancé doesn’t take the fucking bus.”

“Fiancé,” Chay murmurs to himself, rolling the word around his mouth. “Shit, Cau. Are you sure?”

“I am if you are.” Macau swallows and ignores the too-fast beat of his heart. Chay’s hand wraps around his wrist, fingertips pressing gently against his pulse point. Macau loves his touch so much; he hates why they’re here, but he’d be lying if he said he hates getting this much attention from Chay all at once, after months of existing from one stolen moment to the next.

Macau’s vague idea of showering and then planning the rest of his life is quickly shelved. He’s too busy letting Chay tumble them into bed, rolling over so Chay can pin his wrists and grind his hips down. Chay licks into his mouth and then laughs at the dramatic whine he lets out when he pulls away again too soon. It’s just for show; they both know Chay would never leave him so unsatisfied.

They make love on scratchy sheets in a cheap hotel on the outskirts of the city, because neither of them could bear to drive any further, because they both need to get their hands on each other, because Chay doesn’t mind being Macau’s dirty little secret but he’s damned if he’ll be anyone else’s husband, and because Macau has had a lifetime of watching his family destroy every good thing that wanders into its path, and he’ll be damned if he lets Chay be their next target.

As they fall asleep curled into each other, all warm skin and slow breathing, soft lips and steady heartbeats, Chay gives Macau the other reason he couldn’t marry anyone his hia chose for him. “I want to wake up next to you. Tomorrow. All my tomorrows.”

***

Arm wakes Chay gently, shaking his shoulder and stepping back discreetly as his eyes flutter open. Years of practice avoiding the flailing arms of a recently-roused Tankhun, Chay assumes.

“Shit. How did you find us?” he mumbles, pulling the sheets over his head.

“I don’t know where to start. You and Khun Macau have about twelve trackers between you, not counting your phones and his credit card.” Arm tugs the sheet away and turns his tablet around; it’s a mass of blinking dots concentrated in a small cluster.

“Where’s Macau? What have you done to him?” Chay cries when he realises he’s alone in bed.

“It’s ok, Khun Chay, he’s just getting coffee,” Arm says. He sounds calm, but Chay’s seen him like this before and knows it doesn’t mean he’s not alert.

“If you try and keep us apart, I’ll scream so loudly that everyone in the hotel’s gonna think you’re murdering me,” Chay says. “I’m a singer, I can do it, phi. My lungs can do things you wouldn’t believe!” He’s aware that he doesn’t look all that threatening, probably, sleep-dopey and with his hair all mussed up, but it’s worth a try. His hia raised Chay very carefully, though, and the second most important lesson he ever taught Chay was not to back down from a fight he believed in.

(The first lesson was not to start fights you can’t win, but Chay is deliberately choosing to ignore that.)

“Ah, no, it’s ok, nong,” Arm says quickly. “Look, here’s Khun Porsche, I’m sure he can explain it all better than I can.”

As the door opens, Chay snorts the snort of a man who has a deep fraternal understanding of Porsche’s ability to explain anything at all.

“Hia!” Chay leaps off the bed and strides angrily across the room, shoving at Porsche’s shoulder before the door has even swung closed behind him. “You son-of-a-bitch! You couldn’t even tell me to my face, what the fuck!”

“Chay – ”

“No! NO!” Chay pushes him again, hot tears of frustration welling in his eyes and making his brother’s face mercifully blurry. “How dare you? I had to find out from Tankhun, of all people?! And it’s not until I leave that you suddenly give a damn what happens to me? Get out of my way, I’m going to find Cau and if you try to stop me, I’ll, I’ll, I’ll. I’ll fucking bite you, I don’t know!” He’s properly crying now, beating his fists uselessly against Porsche’s chest.

“Chay,” Porsche says again, far more gently this time, and he catches Chay’s wrists before pulling him into a tight hug. “Chay, it’s ok, it’s all ok, I promise.”

“Hia!” Chay squeezes out between loud sobs. “Hia, please.”

“Arm,” Porsche says, craning to speak over Chay’s head. “Arm, I think you need to go fetch Macau now.”

***

“The thing is, Khun Chay, that while the relationship between the major and minor families is much closer these days – ”

“You mean because hia and Khun Kinn can’t keep their hands off each other,” Chay asks. He knows that’s not really why, but it’s funny to see Arm trying to work out how to answer the question in front of Porsche. He’s currently sitting on Macau’s lap, arms wound around his neck, and while he hasn’t actually growled or snapped his teeth at anyone who comes near them, his demeanour is carefully cultivated to suggest that he might.

“Uh, yeah. Yes. That’s not how I’d – but yes, I suppose Khun Kinn and Khun Porsche do have quite a noticeable physical connection,” Arm admits reluctantly. “And it’s good that they’re married. That’s great! But obviously there’s the deposed remnants of the former minor family to consider – oh. Umm. Sorry for your loss, Khun Macau – but the point is that now we all have some distance from the attempted coup, Khuns Kinn and Porsche thought that, uh.”

“They thought it would be convenient to get me married off, I know.”

“No, hang on, it wasn’t - it was just a silly thing Khun suggested, and Kinn said it - ok, yeah, he said it would be convenient, yeah, but we weren’t going to actually do anything about it!” Porsche throws his hands up in exasperation, nearly knocking the tablet out of Arm’s hands. “You didn’t have to run away on a whim, Chay!”

“Hang on, what does this have to do with Vegas and I?” Macau asks, at the same time as Chay mutters ‘It wasn’t a whim!’

“What do you mean?” Porsche asks him, leaning forward with genuine confusion on his face. (Chay recognises it from the days when he used to ask Porsche for help with his algebra homework.) “It was – the plan was – well, no, it wasn’t a plan, but Khun’s idea was that you two should marry each other.”

“Oh shit,” Macau says, squeezing Chay’s waist tightly. “Oh, shit, babe! Do you know what this means?!”

Chay wriggles around in his lap to face him, disbelief and hope warring on his face. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

“I think he’s saying that they’re not gonna stop us being together, actually,” Macau says. He reaches up to stroke Chay’s face gently, running the back of his knuckles reverently along his cheekbones.

“Hang on,” Porsche says. “Hang on, are you two – is that why you shared a room?!” He turns to stare at Arm accusingly; Arm quickly buries his head in his tablet and starts tapping away furiously. Porsche tuts and turns back to the disgraced runaways. “Macau! Did you fuck my brother last night?”

“Of course not!” Macau says quickly, and then his little gremlin grin returns. “Fun fact, phi, your baby brother is a very talented top.”

“Gah, shut up, shut the fuck up,” Porsche shouts, then covers his ears and starts humming when Macau opens his mouth to elaborate.

“Stop antagonising him, and I’ll stop Tankhun from dressing you in cerise on our wedding day,” Chay murmurs to Macau, slapping a hand over his open mouth. Macau licks his palm, mostly out of habit, but nods his agreement.

“It’s ok, hia, you can listen again,” Chay says. Arm leans over without looking up from his tablet and taps him on the shoulder. “I said, it’s ok. We’ve decided to take a rain check on the eloping plan today.”

“Oh, Khun Nu will be so relieved,” Arm says. “He was so worried.”

“Aww,” Chay says, willing to be far more lenient now things are going his way. “He was worried about Cau and I? That’s so sweet.”

“Oh, yes.” Arm pauses briefly. “Well. That, and he was worried he’d ordered a custom Armani for nothing.”

#monochrome-crisis #kptssanta23

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ventiffy · 1 year

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 ♡ PT.4

EHEH *cries* GUESS WHO GOT THEIR *beep* PERIOD.... MEE! *cries again* ANYWAYS HERE IS pt.4 OF I FORGOT, jk, "The alliance that bounds us together"

FOR NEW PEOPLE, YES IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE TAGS NOR SEEN THE HEADER (picture above).THIS. IS. A. DOTTORE FIC BC I LOVE HIM UGGH.. before any Dottore hater comes in my replies saying I shouldn't write these fics since they ship the reader with a HORRIBLE person... go away. Your comment doesn't compete with my love for him ever since his unhinged little self came into the manga. I read the manga before playing the game and so basically ever since I started playing genshin, even though he never appeared in game he was my fav character (AND I KNOW HIS LORE, IVE READ EVERY SINGLE ARTICLE THAT REVEALS SOME OF HIS LORE, I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM)--(plus my post don't appear when at your home page so u either 1 follow me or looked at the tags so, you asked to see something like this- RANT OVER -

WARNINGS: should've put this for the last one BUT Dottore is named as "Zandik", mention of Pantalone (This shouldn't be a warning, just that I'm not going to put Pantalone in the tags cuz, this fic isn't about him so like why should I do that? MENTION OF TORTURE... NOT IN THE WAY YOU WOULD THINK THOUGH- READER IS AGED UP, SCHOOL = SOMETHING LIKE UNIVERSITY IDK- NOT PROOFREAD FOR NOW BECAUSE IM IN TOO MUCH PAIN, mention of the word : heck and hell

Summary: Just look at the part plz, this intro is getting too long-

You came back home safely. It felt as you went on a normal walk although, you had a particular destination that was not related to school at all. To you it felt just like a normal walk but instead of merely walking alone, you were with somebody to which you could interact with!

You decided to go on Zandik s' account, you remember not seeing any post, instead he only got tagged by accounts that you didn't care much about. The reason why they appeared on post/tagged was basically out of honor of sort. Heck, the Snezhnayan government even mentioned him on their post about how some particular doctor of theirs had figured a discovery that they'll look into professionally. Theirs? What did they mean by theirs? Did Zandik work for them. Already, you heard how the training to just become a soldier there was torture. Huh, good for him then. He was able to go through the stress of becoming a Doctor at the most demanding Akademiya AND he was able to put up with straight up torture the training gave him. You knew people were serious when they said you'll most likely die at the trainings then when you're actually at war. The Fatui had to set up their own healing buildings near their departments due to how many soldiers get ALMOST fatally injured. But yet, you found it weird. Neither did being a trainee in the Fatui nor did being a student at Sumeru Akademiya give you any breaks, so how did he manage to accomplish both and succeed further on. He looked young, possibly in his twenties. So, he couldn't really graduate and go straight to the Fatui. Since, trainings take 3 months to do since soldiers have to get to go in their camps in their group.

They take about a week if their lucky to walk to a certain destination in the middle of nowhere, yet they also have to go through the heavy snow, the icy wind while wearing a uniform almost made for the summer. They also have to go through storms on flat terrains which end in to soldiers getting electrocuted, through avalanches if their route makes them go by the edge of mountains during a storm. Then they get to site, yet you also have to know they are carrying all of their materials, even whatever they'll use as shelter and food to which they have to unpack and build on whatever terrain was given to them, whether it's bumpy or not, they decide whether they want to sleep in their sweaty uniform in a somewhat secured space or outside during maybe storms since that is the most frequent disaster experienced on a daily basis by the land of Snezhnaya itself.

After that torture, the next day they'll have to wake up early, most soldiers in training get 5 hours of sleep at that time. And then, for about more then two months wit their commander they'll have to go on expedition all while going through courses such as going on one without wearing any form of shoes or socks, they'll have to use weapons against enemy camps. If they get hurt, they have to wait to get healed only after they get back to camp, which leads to infections. They are forced to swim through cold lakes in the early morning when the temperatures are at their coldest. So on and so on.

So basically, now you kind of had an idea that one maybe he didn't work at all. But, on that particular post, they mentioned "past soldier" then they tagged his "@". And, you can't really join before the time you're officially an adult so basically older than 18 years of age. You decided that nothing really peeked your interest so you decided to see who was following him.

Huh.

How?

How was a harbinger following him if he was some random Fatui soldier? Was it usual for the 9th to follow all sorts of Fatui soldiers..? Maybe the ones he trains..? No, the 9th doesn't train since he doesn't fight...

Maybe the one who takes the 9th place of the 11 Fatui Harbingers, used to be a Student at that Akademiya. Both of them looked around the same age and both of them were smart enough to be at least decent at that school. But, wasn't there a rumour that Pantalone grew up poor, the fees of that school have a price that not just anybody can afford, unless they have a scholarship. But only those seen as "average" get them.

But, although the possibilities were rare... Could Zandik and Dottore be the same person all at once?

It would make sense though since, Zandik only said he went to the Akademiya. He never said if he graduated from it though. And Dottore has is past sort of well known to those whose work has been somewhat related to his. Now most people know that he was expelled from that Akademiya for his inhuman experiments but, one of the higher harbingers, supposedly the first, gave him the opportunity to continue testing those blasphemous theories of his.

But, it was late. You didn't want to ask him any questions. Maybe you'll ask him tomorrow at his lab.

Me reading this is in like one year wondering what the hell was I doing:

Y'all reading the end basically realizing I did a cliff hanger once again (maybe on the verge on blocking (MAYBE unfollowing - 😒) me for being lazy and not writing the end bc I write right before sleeping-:

YEAH UHH adding memes at the end of my posts is definitely something I'll start doing more because it's fun. *cries in cramp pain* I MAY START AN AO3 WHERE I UPLOAD ALL THE CHAPTERS OF THIS FIC- ANYWAYS BYEEE-

#fatui dottore #genshin dottore #il dottore #dottore #genshin zandik #genshin impact #genshin #dottore x y/n #dottore x reader

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