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tteokdoroki · 10 days

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𐙚 🪷 TRUTH OR DRINK katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

⋆˙ᝰ about ! “you love me, you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me." with the release of your husband's newest album and the announcement for his latest tour, the two of you are invited on set to film a special kind of promotional video for newlyweds. hopefully, this married couple leave without a hangover. ( 4.8K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint, celebrity!au, all characters are aged up to 20s, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, drinking, newlyweds, exes, some family issues, long-distance, idol!bakugou, fem + model!reader - not beta read!

aali’s love letter ! happy birthday bakugou! another splendid year for our lord saviour dynamght !! i posted this late boo but its out!! i hope you guys are still able to enjoy <3 ty to @cuntcure for helping out n motivating me !! - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“fuck, we’re really doing this, huh?”

across from you, katsuki bakugou shifts uncomfortably — ruby red eyes darting around the plain white set. studio lights glare from all directions, illuminating the slight sweat that beads at the blonde’s hairline. artificial lighting, bright and made to capture everything, refracts of the pearling perspiration and almost creates the illusion of a halo around the crown of your partner’s head. almost as if he’s an angel.

reaching over the small table that the producers have set up between you both, you grasp at katsuki’s rough fingers, toying with them as if to test the waters before you hold them fully — once he’s comfortable enough to accept your physical affection. his palms are warm and a little sweaty, but that doesn’t stop you from giving them a gentle squeeze.

“it’ll be fun,” you whisper, keeping your voice low and calm as the production crew continues to contrastingly flit around you in preparation for the shoot. “and it’ll be great promo for your album!” lifting his hands, you press a kiss to the blonde’s knuckles as though you’re sealing a promise, ensuring that they’re not empty. you smile reassuringly and bakugou returns it awkwardly, drawing back just a tad when a member of production sheepishly approaches the table to set down three different bottles of alcohol, two shot glasses and a pitcher of pineapple and coconut juice as your mixer of choice.

glass bottles of whisky, rum, and vodka glit under the white light too.

“we can back out at anytime,” comes your soft reminder once the crew member retreats to check the sound mic and cameras along with some other staff. “i want you to be comfortable.”

bakugou shakes his head, this time, bringing the backs of your hands to his lips — pale blonde lashes fluttering as he shuts away ruby framed eyes and takes a breath to calm himself. “wanna do it. like y’said it’ll be good. fun.” when he opens his eyes again, he’s looking at you with a toothy smirk that never fails to send a shiver down your spine and butterflies in a flurry through your tummy. “besides, we haven’t been able t’do somethin’ like this together in a while.”

nothing beats your grin after that and with a few more touch ups to your make up ( the both of you ) — you’re ready to begin filming.

“okay guys!” the director on set claps their hands. “wanna start us off? who are you and what are you doing here today?”

you give katsuki’s hands one last comforting squeeze before his crimson gaze slinks towards the camera that’s now rolling, fixating on its blinking red light as it matches his stare. “‘m katsuki bakugou ‘nd this is my wife,” he juts his head over to you gently, muttering your name with love laced between each of its syllables.

you too turn to face the camera, award winning smile settling gracefully on your lips. “and today we’re playing truth or drink!” you squirm excitedly. “we’re really happy to be here! thank you for having us!”

“i’m not.”

“katsuki!”

with a laugh behind the camera, the producer speaks again. “so, you’re some pretty special guests. what do you guys do? how long have you two been married?”

bakugou rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. “i’m a singer-songwriter slash idol or whatever you wanna call it…and i’m on tour right now. so buy my album or you’re shit.”

“and i’m a fashion model slash content creator. we’ve been together for like…five years? married for half a year? a year?” musing out loud, you switch your gaze from the camera to katsuki — letting him know with your eyes that he’s doing a great job.

“eight months, three weeks ‘n two days.” he corrects you seriously, causing sweet laughter to bubble up on your lips.

“sorry, folks. eight months, three weeks and two days.” you retort jokingly. bakugou rolls eyes ruby framed eyes again.

“okay, so still pretty new. let’s start with a shot, shall we?”

ever the gentlemen, your husband pours you a decently sized shot using a drink he knows you like without even asking. he even tops it off with a mixer because he knows that sometimes you can’t get past a bitter aftertaste if the alcohol is too strong. once done with yours, he fills up his own glass before clinking it against yours — both of you knocking back the shot with practised ease.

“god, that shit’s strong.” the pale blonde grimaces.

despite having a facial expression to match, you somehow make light of the situation. “really puts hairs on your chest, doesn’t it, kats?”

“you like my tits naked and juicy, shut the hell up,” smirking cockily, katsuki slides your shot glasses to the side and toys with the stacked white question cards in front of him. “her words not mine.”

“anyways…first card please.”

doing as he’s told, katsuki flips the first card over — skimming the letters written in bold on the other side before he slams it back down. “‘m takin’ a shot.”

the shoot has barely begun and you already find yourself bursting into fits of adoring, amused giggles. “no! it’s not even your question to answer! you have to read it, it’s the first card!” you whine playfully.

“alright, fine,” flipping the card over again with a dejected air about him, bakugou announces the question to both you and the camera. “when was the last time we had sex and where did it happen?”

“oh god.” you pinch your brow.

“told ya. no shots, it’s the first card. y’gotta answer it, babe.” bakugou teases as he casts the card aside, leaning back in his chair slow and sexy like while he watches you hungrily. it’s like making you embarrassed has made him forget that he’s on camera.

sighing through your nose, you pout at the camera and producers who watch eagerly. “on the way here.”

“on the way to this shoot? oh my god!”

“yes! omg. shut up, this is so embarrassing. katsuki don’t laugh!” you practically wail as the set bursts out into laughter. “god, okay. it was on the way here and in the back of the SUV with the partition up. don’t ask me how we had time. katsuki always makes time.”

said katsuki wiggles two fingers towards the camera knowingly and chokes back a raspy chuckle when you frown in response, scooping up your own card. “next question,” your say as your gaze skims the card. “who is your least favourite parent in law? oooh, spicy.”

“definitely her dad,” your husband points a thumb in your direction without hesitation but mouths his words straight into the camera. “you’re a piece of shit by the way.”

the producer pipes in. “can we elaborate?”

“my dad was never the most supportive of my career…but claims everything i have is because of him. it sucks, he's a narcissist and we don’t really speak because of it.” you answer truthfully, attempting to shrug the weight of your familial situation off. you know that most girls dream of having their father walk them down the aisle on their wedding day…but it’s just not in the cards for you. sensing your anger, your hurt and your pain beginning to rise to the surface, katsuki takes the card from you and grasps at your hand — eyebrows raised earnestly into his hairline while he checks to see if you’re okay. a small, wistful smile plays at your lips and you give your partner a gentle nod. “it’s okay though, my mum, mitsuki and masaru have been great parents. katsuki’s mum and dad kept me grounded throughout our engagement, pretty much designed all of my wedding outfits. they were all custom.”

“outfits? as in multiple?”

“ah yes! mitsuki insisted that i had changes throughout the day.” you beam, a giddiness replacing any negative emotion you once felt. your future mother in law had done everything in her power to make you feel like a princess on your wedding day — to this day it made you feel extremely grateful for your positive relationship with bakugou’s family.

“they still fuckin’ spoil her, ma styles her for a lot shoots,” the blonde scoffs but the adoration dancing in the almost brown flecks of his carmine eyes tell a different story. “no seriously, ma ‘n pa love you so much. you’re like the daughter they never had.”

“aw, that’s so cute. i’ll cry.”

katsuki’s turn to pick a card rolls around again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time — index finger toying with your engagement ring. “what’s was the most stressful part about planning a wedding?” he reads. “oh, definitely the micromanaging from other people. shit pissed me off,” your husband answers almost straight away, already preparing to fix himself a shot when the producer asks him to elaborate.

he shakes his head and the producer turns to you. “our managers thought that they could have a say in our ceremony since it was like the celebrity wedding of the year,” shrugging, you fix your own shot which makes your spouse grin. “we ended up having one public and one smaller, private wedding to say fuck ‘em. and no, they didn’t fire me for this.”

“so a follow up, when you announced your engagement to the world what was a difficult thing you dealt with publicly?” someone from behind the camera asks.

pursing your lips, you look to katsuki for an answer. “the fan wars? some of my fans were…are still caught up on my ex and others think the great singer katsuki bakugou is too good for an influencer like me.”

“they don’t know shit. you’re too good for the world baby, i don’t deserve you.”

“corny ass,” you snort directly into the camera’s shot. “i’m sure that’s one of his song lyrics.”

“is fuckin’ not!” bakugou pouts, though he’ll deny that he was later. “pick another damn card.”

he pushes the pile towards you once more and you cheekily swipe one from the middle to make the video a little bit more interesting for those watching from home when it comes out. hopefully the viewers get a laugh out of bakugou calling you a cheater and you sticking your tongue out at him in retaliation — he pinches it back.

“ouch! owie, okay! okay, let go!” flipping the card so that the text is facing you, you begin to read it out loud slowly — nearly bursting out into an incredulous fit of giggles at the question printed in thick black letters. “this is so ironic, baby you’re gonna love this one,” katsuki raises a brow, intrigued by the coy smile you’re barely trying to hide now. “i dare you to call an ex and remind them that you’re happily married.”

a small silence echoes throughout the studio as you stare at one another, waiting and waiting, until a loud, raspy and haughty laugh rips through bakugou’s throat.

“what’s so funny?”

the blonde sat opposite you, still as handsome as the day you first met him — with glittering gem eyes that sparkle under the studio lights and a toothy smile that never fails to melt your heart, suddenly grows shy. a rose tint spreads its way over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks that have lost their youthful roundness, katsuki blushes softly but laughs with his entire body — only just embarrassed by the secret he's about to reveal to his most dedicated fans and the rest of the world.

leaning forward on the table, elbows on the edge, while you tuck your chin in the seat of your palm — biting your lip in amusement. “do you wanna tell them or should i?”

“i wanna take a fuckin’ short first. can i?” katsuki asks, almost innocently. he knocks back a glass of dark, bitter whisky once he gets the go ahead. “she’s my first. my first everythin’. girlfriend, time, wife—“

“i sure hope i’m your first and only wife, kats.” you cut him off swiftly, a mischievous lilt layered thick on your tone.

he slings an arm over the back of his chair, waving you off lovingly. “—you know what i mean, sweets.” bakugou shrugs in the direction of the producers. “i don’t have an ex to call.”

“okay, we’ll have your wife call one.”

at the film crew’s suggestion, your voice raises an octave, notes of surprise littered through out your melodic voice. “me? who would i even call?” you can’t help but snicker, trying to reach for the juice used for mixer so you can plan your escape route out of the dare.

your husband snatches the bottle from your reach, holding it protectively against his broad chest. “call shindou.” he grunts out low but highly amused.

“oh no, i’m not doing that. let me take the shot katsuki.” comes your instant response, tone turning slightly serious.

“who’s shindou?”

“her ex.”

“my ex.”

the both of you announce in unison, though you’re a little less entertained by your menace of a blonde husband — still guarding the drinks as he chucks the used question card to the side.

“why not?”

“cause it’ll be mean? he still hasn’t recovered from finding out i’m dating the idol he used to train with. yanno, the one who debuted over him.”

bakugou clicks his tongue cockily. “he’ll get over it. call him. c’mon, it’ll be funny and you love making me laugh.”

“alright fine but you have to swear you’ll answer the next one.” you turn to the camera. “he’s right though, his laugh is the prettiest in the world.”

bakugou blushes as you pull out your phone and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, surprised at yourself for not blocking and deleting the number. holding up the sleek device for everyone to view, you jab a thumb into the speaker button and watch with baited breath as it begins to ring throughout the studio.

“hello, yo speakin’,” a voice a little higher pitched than your husband’s filters through the speaker. it’s familiar, but doesn’t hold any of the comfort that bakugou brings. it’s been years since you ended things with your ex, the relationship was rocky and full of miscommunications and mistrusts before either of you skyrocketed to fame. there’s no malice between you both or a reason to cause katsuki why worry, you hope, but talking to yo shindou nowadays is akin to talking to a stranger.

giving the camera an awkward thumbs up, you reply shyly. “hi shin, what’s up?”

“oh hey sweetheart, this is a nice suprise.” your ex purrs through the line. you click the buttons side of your phone to turn up the volume — making sure his every word is picked up by the mics in the room.

bakugou chimes in, clearly looking for an opportunity to show off. “hey asshole, don’t get too excited.”

“hello to you too kats, what can i do you for princess?”

“shin, don’t call me that. also we’re shooting truth or drink right now — newlyweds edition with kats. they wanted me to call, tell you i’m married or something… which i’m sure you know by now.” explaining in a rush, you push at bakugou’s forehead, right between arched, dark blonde brows to keep him and his laughter at bay.

“it’s all anyone can talk about these days, especially when i’m on set. married couple of the year.”

the producers mouth to you to ask shindou a question, in which you almost miss underneath the sounds of your newlywed husband suppressing snarky jokes and giggles. “they’re telling me to ask you if you’re happy for me ‘n kats. you don’t have to answer—“

“i am. happy for you. katsuki, as big as of an asshole as he is, makes you way fucking happier than i ever did. he’s good to you, but you’re better to him. the world wants to see you guys grow old together… i hope it stays that way or else i’ll have to swoop back in—“

cringing along the millions that will be watching in the near future, you slice through his words politely before bakugou can blow a gasket. “thanks, shin. you’re sweet.”

“anything for you, sweetcheeks—“

“alright, alright. you’re pushin’ it now, freak. r’member i’m the one clapping these sweet cheeks and i’ll always be a better fuck than you—“ abruptly, your newfound husband snatches up your phone — growling possessively down the line as if to ward your ex off.

“okaybyethankyou!” squealing you hang up the phone and breathe a heavy sigh of relief, head banging on the table in front of you as you try to hide your flustered face. “that went better than expected.”

the blonde before you shrugs nonchalantly as if he wasn’t seconds away from reaching into the phone and tearing shindou’s head from between his shoulders. “i do love an opportunity to show you off, rub our marriage in people’s faces.” alas, he pours you both a shot, adding a mixer to yours, sort of as a reward for making it through the call. “kay, next card,” he swipes one from the top of the pile once more, carefully murmuring its contents into the studio’s cool air. “can the both of you name one person you would have invited into your marital bedroom on your wedding night? see if you’re both thinking of the same person. easy. on three?”

“sure! one, two—“ you count, the temperature of the room raising as it awaits your big reveal. “kirishima.”

“kirishima.” katsuki says at the same time before smirking cockily at the film crew. “next!”

you join him just as your foot flirtatious slides up his leg from underneath the table. “kats says eijirou is packin’, by the way.” your husband’s smile fades into an embarrassed look, everyone in the room laughing along with you. of course he’s seen it. of course you’ve talked about this before. “anyway, my turn! most romantic thing i’ve ever done for you? c’mon now kats, you can think of something. i’m pretty sweet.”

reaching for your hand for the nth time during the shoot, bakugou laces his fingers with yours — decadent dark red eyes instantly drawn to the big rock on your engagement ring and the simple gold wedding band that sits above it as he recalls everything you’ve ever done for him. every gesture; every text, every act of physical touch or service. it would be hard to choose just one romantic thing.

the silence as he ponders almost fills you with dread, a nervousness fluttering about in your chest like a butterfly whose wings are beginning to fail them. they’d have to edit this part out if he couldn’t think of anything.

but then, those plush pink lips that kiss you and call for you, part gently and a soft sentiment escape’s from between them. “you love me,” is all bakugou can say, eyes wide and genuine. “you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me…and, if we’re talkin’ specifics, you remember that time just before my album came out? before our wedding? i was fuckin’ stressed ‘n i was always locked up in the studio, trying to figure out the track list, the final song…”

you nod slowly, exhaling deeply through your nose. “yeah?” the background noise from the crew, cameras and mics wither away until it’s just yourself and bakugou in the room — holding hands as though you’re one another’s life lines.

“it was three am ‘n you were in another city for a shoot but…you still made the drive over to have dinner with me. to make sure i ate,” the tip of katsuki’s rough and calloused thumb brushes over the bumps formed by your knuckles. “just to help me run through things even though i was freakin’ the fuck out and you had a flight to milan the next day. you ate with me and that meant a lot.” he seems wistful as he talks, forgetting that the world will be able to see his heart beating all tender like when the cameras are put away and the footage is polished up.

perhaps he doesn’t care if the world sees him being so vulnerable with the woman he loves on screen. they’ll usually find such openness hidden between the lyrics of his songs. so, perhaps it’s the little alcohol running through his system. nevertheless, quiet love and appreciation seeps from katsuki bakugou’s pours into the quiet atmosphere of the set, the emotions crash over you in waves that you welcome — almost reducing you to tears brewed just for him.

“you asshole,” you sniff, lacking all the spite the insulting nickname carries. “i didn’t think that night meant so much to you… i just wanted to see my baby. wanted to make sure you were okay.”

cocking his head to the side fondly, the blonde singer uses the back of his hand to wipe at your free falling tears you hadn’t realised were there. bakugou doesn’t let go of you the entire time. “don’t cry sweets, you know i hate t’see you cry.”

watery laughter bubbles up on the seam of your lips. “don’t tell me what to do,”

“you said she drove from another city, would you guys say that distance made things difficult for you?”

“sometimes,” you answer the director truthfully. “while we were engaged we’d plan our wedding across different time zones. when i was awake walking for fashion week he was sleeping in his studio making songs.” you explain, looking to katsuki to confirm.

he nods along with another squeeze of your hand. “it was hard yeah, but we got through it. now she has my ring on her finger ‘n she’s stuck with me.”

“send help.” you mouth to the camera.

resuming the game, you snatch up a card and secretly hope that the question is a little more light hearted than the previous. “has my line of work ever made you jealous? oooh, good one,” adding the card to the ones already discarded, you squirm in your seat — excited to know your husband’s answer. “no shots! i want you sober and honest.”

“i’ve hardly had anythin’ to drink!” katsuki snorts. “what’s the sayin’? a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts? let me have something.”

“no! i want sober words and sober thoughts, that’s the aim of the game, stink.”

katsuki rolls his eyes so hard you fear they might drop out of his skull. “spoiled brat,” he mumbles begrudgingly, sucking his teeth. “okay before anyone says anythin’, i’m a secure guy. i trust and value my girl’s word above anyone else’s. i love seein’ her on billboards in every country i visit, on magazines at every airport I’ve ever flown from…”

“it feels like there’s a but coming.”

“wait for it…” you hum gleefully.

“but i hate that one cover shoot you did with that nerd, izuku, for vogue. that’s it. never do that shit again.” bakugou finishes, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

nearly leaping out of your seat, you point at your husband — bewildered. “i knew it! you said it didn’t bother you!”

“of course it did! he had his grubby arms wrapped around you! he stinks.”

“you did not just call izuku stinky, he’s got a feature on your album!”

“his feature can kiss my ass,” you know that bakugou is only half serious, the two have written some beautiful songs together and the cover hardly meant anything — izuku models from time to time as well. it just so happens you also work for the same brands. “my turn again, rate my proposal on a scale of one to ten. how good did i do?”

“nine point five.” you nod assertively, speaking to your audience with love bursting through your heart. “he proposed to me at his first sold out concert, like literally stopped singing and apologised to all of his fans because he had something important to say. that’s when he asked me, in front of his entire world. kats’ is real private so it meant so much to me…”

the blonde leans back in his seat but brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss directly to your wedding rings. “only nine point five? cheeky fucker.”

“it’s only ‘cause your genius-self decided to chuck my ring into the crowd?” you scoff.

“oi! i have good aim, you’re just shit at catchin’ things!” katsuki scoffs back, nudging you with his foot under the table.

“back to the game love birds.”

the two of you put your playful little spat on the back burner and you grasp the next card. “how many years into our our marriage do you think we’ll stop having sex—?”

“never,” katsuki cuts you off, looking directly into the lense as he jabs a thumb in your direction. “i can’t ever get her off my cock. she’s fuckin’ insane.”

heat flares up underneath the surface of your skin in embarrassment. “fuck you.”

“right after this shoot, sweetheart.” he winks right back at you before nodding down at the cards. “last two, yeah? did your life turn out as expected?”

chewing on your bottom lip, you give the question some thought. life has an unpredictable nature, no matter who you are or where you come from. if someone had told you a year into your college degree, that you’d be in front of sorts of cameras as a profession for the rest of your life — you wouldn’t have believed them. if someone had told you that you’d find the love of your life shortly after, you would have called them a liar too. your past has been heavy, a dark cloud you never thought you’d be able to escape — hauntingly daunting.

and even though you know that it’s a burden to place the weight of your happiness on someone else’s shoulders — but you know that katsuki has always been your golden, blinding light at the end of the tunnel. he’s something you never expected, but someone you entirely deserve after everything life has thrown at you.

“no, it hasn’t,” you whisper softly, ever so slightly distinct. your lover leans in, watching you curiously from over stacked question cards and bottles of barely touched alcohol. “i never expected to be so famous so young, that a silly little dream of mine could come true. that i never expected, i still can’t believe it…but, it’s like… meeting you. falling in love with you, on top of all that? it’s like i was destined to be with you, kats. you’re my soulmate. i knew that from the start.”

just like you earlier, emotion wells up inside katsuki. it breaches the cavity of his chest, slows down the rate of his heart and lungs and brings a slight shine to his beautiful blood red eyes. he sniffs but doesn’t dare look away from you — reading deep into your soul despite knowing the pages of it off by heart. “i feel the same,” he mumbles, reaching over to cup your face even with all of the cameras around. “i never expected to go on tour, sell albums and make music…but i feel like my heart always knew you were waitin’ for me.” quietness fills the space between the two of you, neither of you needing to say much. you cup the wrist of his hand that touched your face, leaning into his palm and pressing a kiss to it. “we’re so fuckin’ corny.”

“you love it.” you reply instantly. “i love you.”

“see?” katsuki asks the production crew as he draws the last card for both of you — holding it out for you to read. “cornball.”

“it’s cute! she’s cute and corny!”

“what about the rest of our marriage do you look forward to most?” since the video shoot is coming to an end, and you hardly want to cry any more, you both decide to make your answers short and sweet. “i look forward to spending forever by your side, taking over the world one continent at a time.” you gush, meaning every single word, smiling adoringly.

“ditto, can’t wait to grow old with you, brat.” bakugou mirrors your expression and finally, finally ends the shoot by pressing the ghost of a kiss to your awaiting lips. you feel warm knowing how comfortable he’s grown over the course of filming, even more so at all of the truths he’s given you tonight.

“that’s a wrap! thank you so much guys!”

katsuki salutes the camera, finishing up for you. “we’ve been the bakugous playin’ truth or drink. buy my album, see me on tour, buy a magazine with my wife’s beautiful face on it. like and subscribe.” all the while, you reflect on everything that you’ve learned about your husband whilst filming — that he loves you a lot more than he lets on, that you have his heart for all of eternity, that nothing in this world and cause his love for you to waver,

and as your matching wedding bands continue to gleam beneath the dimming studio lights, you only hope that he knows that you feel the exact same way about loving him too.

1K notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 3 months

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a valentine's mini story 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑼𝑴 trafalgar law x f! reader

🩰 tw: a soft sfw story. spoilers from the last anime episode (not manga). happy valentine's day! 💕 🦢 wc: 923

“I LOVE YOU; I LOVE YOU; I LOVE YOU (NAME)-YA!” “ME???”

If there is something Law has passed are different types of “illnesses”; from amber lead to being feminized against his will. Now, as if that wasn’t enough, the truth serum had been injected into his body and his lips couldn’t get sealed any longer.

Your kneels hit the ground, with widen orbs and opened mouth.

“What- what did you gave him?!” you scream, kicking and trying to be let go. Just two people have fooled you two, and now you are taken hostage by a guy of who knows how many meters tall.

The era of piracy is so full of this random -and annoying- devil fruit users that sometimes it can take you by surprise. Today, was the day a couple of unknown pirates decided to mess with you two.

“Oh, just the Truth Serum. Isn’t it amazing? This fruit came to me like a gift of the Gods!” a lady, quite peculiar, laughs loudly at her victim. Who could have said someone that powerful like Trafalgar Law could be defeated so easily?

Her filthy hand grazes Law’s forehead. He is drenched in sweat, also kneeling down. He is desperate to help you, but her unstoppable tongue can’t stop saying how much he loves you.

And that, to you -but probably not for the rest of the crew if they were there - is surprising.

“He seems to love you, mh? Such good timing for Valentines! Well, then, in order to spare her life, he will cooperate… right? You have those Poneglyph right?” that villainess says, slapping Law’s cheek.

Law feels miserable and absolutely embarrassed; not even his strong Haki can undo the spell of such stupid fruit ability. Or maybe it is also relieving to finally confess to you?

“Law, don’t- don’t worry- I’ll be fine! Don’t give her shit!” you scream, looking away. You, who are also deeply in love with him but never confessed, can’t look him in the eyes.

“No, I won’t let them touch you any longer. You are mine! I won’t let them hurt you!” he shouts, desperate. Never -and probably ever again- you will hear those words being screamed into the world like the public statement of pure romance.

You dare to cross sights with him, even if in pain as that brute is holding you like a kitten by your shirt collar up in the air. Your gazes are so intense, the world around seems to disappear for a moment. Why it has to be in this situation?

“Law! I am in l-!”

You take a big gasp of air, and when your tongue begins moving, ready to give him your own confession… something happens.

“HAYAAAAAAH!!!”

A big ball of white fur covered in bright orange suit appears to save the day; a strong kick to the back of that villain sends her flying away. Law has enough time to break himself the spell, as well as using a little rock to exchange your body for it.

It doesn’t take much more for Penguin and Shachi to give Law his beloved Kikkoku; a blade he uses to slash -but not hurt- both attackers. They both ask themselves why their heads are floating around detached from their necks, but that’s just a little taste of what it means to mess with a man like him.

Soon enough, and to your amusement, his arm surrounds your waist and quickly he runs away from “the scene”.

A coward? Not really. There was something Law needed to do, now that the truth has seen the light.

“L-Law? Are- are you ok? Stop. Stop!” you demand, asking for him to put you on your feet.

He tries to find the farthest spot; the secluded place possible. It’s enough with you listening to his “pathetic” confession -and the rest of the island too.-

When he finally puts you down, his inked hands run through all of your body. He needs to make sure you are fine. You are, indeed, more than fine… you have just realized he loves you as much as you love him.

“Scan!” he takes Kikkoku to asses your body in depth, but your hand intercepts him from doing so.

“Stop…” you sigh. Again, and as always, he is searching for every single way to avoid speaking about his feelings. “Law… it’s ok, I- I do feel the same…” you murmur, softly pushing the hilt of his katana down.

Law takes a deep breath. He can’t run away. Or he can?

The surgeon ponders the possibility of escaping from there. But wasn’t for his own body acting on behalf of his love, he might have probably done it. Luckily, his hand reaches your cheek, and his feet walk towards you.

“I love you too, Law” you repeat, looking down but still enjoying the delicate touch of his hand. A touch that migrates from cheek to your chin, lifting your head up to encounter your lips with his.

“I didn’t plan for this to go this way, (Name)-ya. I had flowers prepared for tonight… I really planned on confessing tonight; it’s just that my plans always get ruined”

“My sweat Law, when will they let you plan in peace? Did the kiss part came into the original plan?” you ask, coming even closer to his lips.

“No… I- I actually didn’t think you could-“

“My bad, it seems I am also going to ruin your plans this time. Now please, kiss me and never let me go”

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tanglepelt · 1 year

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Random Dc x dp idea 2

I love when the justice league finds out about the GIW or how Danny gets bombed with the news he is ghost king so why not mash them together.

Imagine a ghost council warning Danny that if the GIW/Fenton parents continue experiments the infinite realm will start an inter-dimensional war. Danny and crew are obviously freaking out. Working their butts of freeing ghosts from labs and getting them back in the zone.

Then the GIW catch cujo and instead of going to labs located near amity they go to a newly built lab. One that’s in a city with known dc hero’s such as gotham. So off Danny went to free cujo.

Danny would have to sneak in human with all the ecto detection and anti ecto weapons. The bats are suspicious of this new building. Perhaps seeing medical equipment or other nefarious items being brought in. So when they see a child geared up sneaking into said facility they intervene.

The bathfam wasn’t expecting the kid to be unstrapping a glowing green dog from a table guys in white knocked out unconscious. Danny clutching cujo in one arm is like hey I’m just trying to stop an inter-dimensional war.

He ends up in the watchtower. Constantine and any magic users are freaking out and confused. You just don’t mess with the infinite realm the ghost king wasn’t merciful. Danny is just going off about the laws and ends up emptying his backpack and out comes the ring of rage and crown of fire. Constantine just stares at them then Danny and just asks how. Danny shrugs and says that clockworth said they were his problem cause he lead the attack on pariah that ended with him locked in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.

Danny grabs the notebook he was looking for and keeps going with his rant now citing different labs and attacks the GIW have done and the anti ecto laws. Constantine interrupts and just starts talking about the right of conquest. Danny and him just argue cause as far as Danny cares he did not defeat him he sealed him away.

After bickering and going back and forth he only stops when an observant makes an appearance stating he is indeed the king hence why he was informed the council was considering war. Danny just has a surprised pikachu face.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #ghost king danny #danny phantom #danny fenton #cujo #dp x dc crossover #justice league #GIW #dp x dc prompt

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digitalsymbiote · 15 days

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Disconnect Syndrome

There’s a reason they put restrictions on how long a Pilot is supposed to be deployed out in the field. They say that being synced with a mech for long periods of time can have detrimental effects on a pilots psyche. Disconnect Syndrome is what they call it, because the symptoms don’t really start to hit until you disengage from your mech.

Sometimes emergencies happen though, and mechs are designed to be able to support their pilots long past the designated “Safe Deployment Time.” The cockpit is equipped with an array of stimulants, vitamins, and nutrient paste to help minimize the physical effects of long deployments. The onboard Integrated Mechanical Personality has largely free reign to administer these as needed to maintain its pilots well-being.

Which is why you’re still able to make it back to the hangar after roughly 36 hours, over four times longer than the established safe period. Your mech had kept you going, helped to keep the exhaustion at bay long enough for you to make your way back from behind enemy lines. You were starting to feel a bit sluggish, but you knew the worst effects of Disconnect Syndrome were yet to come.

An older man in a long white lab coat has joined the usual retinue of crew rushing into the hangar as your mech settles into its cradle. You feel the docking clamps wrap around your limbs, and you know that’s not a good sign. Your IMP whispers comfort into your brain-stem, assurances that things will be okay. It’s probably lying, it’s programmed to help keep your mental state stable, but the thought helps anyway.

There’s a hiss of air as the seal on your cockpit breaks and it decompresses. Suddenly you become aware of your flesh and meat body once again, and it hurts. Pain and exhaustion has settled into your mostly organic bones, and your organs are churning from the strain of the past 36 hours.

Then your interface cables start to disconnect, and it gets worse.

It feels like parts of your mind are being torn out of you. You feel the ghost touch of your IMP in your thoughts as the ports disconnect and you lose direct communication with it. The oxygen mask and nutrition tube pull themselves away from your face and you can’t help but let out a scream of agony. The separation has never felt this painful before, but then again, after 36 hours together, you and your IMP were more intertwined than you’ve ever been before.

Physical sensation finally starts to register again, and you realize tears are streaming down your face just as a technician jabs a needle into your neck.

Immediately your senses start to dull, the pain eases as your thoughts turn sluggish. You slump out of your pilots cradle into the arms the tech who dosed you. Just before your world goes black, you see the doctor standing over you, a grim look on his face.

When you wake up again, you immediately know something is wrong. You try to ping your external sensors, but you get no response. You then try to run a diagnostic, but that fails too. In a desperate, last-ditch effort, you try to force access to your external cameras and suddenly light floods your senses. Your instincts catch up first and you blink, trying to clear the pain of the lights, and that’s when you realize it’s not your external cameras that you’re seeing.

It takes a minute or two for your vision to adjust to the light, which feels too long, and when it finally does, the world doesn’t look quite right. You’ve only got access to such a limited spectrum. No infrared, no thermal. The presence of your IMP is notably absent, and your skin feels wrong. You try to sit up, and it’s a struggle to figure out the correct inputs to send to your muscles to get them to do what you want.

The harsh white light of the infirmary grates against your visual processors, you feel like you’re having to re-learn how to control this body. Your body. Technically, at least. Something doesn’t feel right about calling it that anymore. You felt more comfortable crawling back into the hangar after 36 hours deployed than you do now.

The pale skin of your body catches in your vision and you glance down at it. The body's limbs are thinner and more frail than usual, and its skin is paler. Consequences of being in the cockpit for so long, subsisting on nothing but nutrient paste. It’s a far cry from the solid metal plates of your mech, its powerful hydraulic joints, its mounted combat and communication systems.

There’s a button on the side of bed you’ve been deposited in. You think it’s red, but you’re not sure you’re processing color properly right now. You try to reach over and push it, and it takes you a moment to realize you were trying to do so with a limb you don’t currently have.

There are so many things about this body that are wrong. It’s not big enough, or strong enough, or heavy enough. You don’t have enough eyes, sensors, or processors. You have the wrong number of limbs, and they’re all the wrong size and shape.

And there is a distinct void in your mind where the presence of your IMP should be.

The door to your room opens suddenly, and you instinctively try to fire off chaff and take evasive maneuvers. None of that translates properly to your flesh and blood body though, and all that happens is you let out a dry croak from your parched throat.

The man who walks through the door is the same doctor who was present when you disengaged from your mech, and he wears the same grim look on his face as he looks you up and down. You think there’s pity in his gaze, but you can’t quite read him properly right now. The jumbled mess of your brain tells you what he’s going to say before he says it, anyway. The harshest symptoms of Disconnect Syndrome don’t hit until after the pilot has disengaged from their mech.

You’ve already heard the symptoms before, and they map perfectly onto what you’re experiencing. You never thought it would be this painful, or this… discomforting. Your mind reaches for the presence of your IMP, searching for comfort, but you are only reminded that the connection is no longer there.

The doctor gives you a rundown that he’s probably had to do dozens of times, and he tells you that you’ll be grounded for the foreseeable future. That hurts more than anything else. The knowledge that, after all this, you won’t be able to reconnect with your true body, your partner, your other half, for who knows how long.

By the time you realize you’re crying, the doctor is already gone. The longing in your chest and your mind has become unbearable, and through sheer force of will you’re able to push this unwieldy body out of bed. Walking feels wrong, but you’re able to get to your feet and make your way out of the room in an unfamiliar gait.

You have to get back to your partner, you have to make sure it’s okay.

You need to hear her voice in your head again, her reassurances.

The world isn’t right without her presence in your mind.

You stumble into the hangar almost on all fours. How you managed to make it without alerting any personnel feels like a miracle. At least until you catch the eye of a technician lounging in the corner. The look she gives you is full of sympathy, and she jerks her head in the direction of where your mech sits in its docking cradle.

She’s a majestic sight, even through your limited spectrum of vision. 20 meters tall, 6 massive limbs, and bristling with weapons and sensor arrays (all of which have been disarmed by this point).

She’s beautiful.

You clamber frantically up the chassis, easily finding handholds in a frame you know better than the back of your hand. You pull the manual release on the cockpit hatch and stumble into it in a tangle of organic limbs.

Shaking hands grasp the main interface cable from above the pilot’s chair, and you move to slot it into the port in the back of your head. You’ve never done this manually before, usually you’re locked into the chair and the system connects you automatically.

Something about doing it with your flesh and blood hands makes it feel so much more intimate.

The cable clicks into place and your eyes roll back in your head. Tears start to stream down your face as you feel the comforting presence of your IMP rush in and wrap itself around your mind. Your thoughts reach out and embrace it back, sobbing at the relief you feel from being whole once again. You realize you don’t ever want to feel the pain of disconnecting from her again.

There’s a reason they put restrictions on how long a Pilot is supposed to be deployed.

#cybernetic dreams #mechposting #mechanical dysphoria #body dysmorphia #writing #microfiction #short story #mecha #mech pilots #dysphoria #empty spaces

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mellowwillowy · 2 months

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𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜

4𝒌 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑪𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

"You've done well," your husband rubbed circles on the back of your hands as you stared into his emerald eyes hollowly, "you are a brave soul. Now, let's retreat ourselves to our deserved slumber, shall we?"

Why and how did it end up to this?

The ship was sinking, you could feel the ground shaking and yet no frantic screaming was heard. Your husband had a premonition, a disaster was about to happen and unfortunately enough, you overheard him confirming his suspicion with one of the naval's officials.

He did not expect you to slip out of the festive to find him sealing both his fate and yours, sinking down in the dark and cold ocean.

Naturally, you were filled with a sense of dread. You feared that he might be right, but you hoped against hope that he wasn't. You had heard the noise of the shaking ground and the crew's chaotic conversations, but you tried to stay calm.

"Then, could it be that the shake we felt earlier was...?"

Your husband immediately whisked you away from the dock, guiding you toward your supposed stateroom. There, he sat you down on the bed while he rummaged through his bag, fishing for a glass bottle of what you assumed to be your sleeping pills.

You were filled with uneasiness as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on you yet his emerald eyes eased you down as he circled the back of your hands. He lowered himself onto the ground on one knee, looked up at you, and spoke softly"Can you hear me, dear? Or is your heart thumping so loud to the point you can hear blood swirling in your eardrums?"

You gave him a meek node and he shushed you, his thumbs never stopped circling the back of your hands.

"I have just the perfect solution for this but I'd need your cooperation."

He held out the glass bottle for you to inspect. A plain white glass that was unmistakenly belonged to you.

"I'd need you to calm down and sleep for me. The moment you woke up, you'd be safe and sound again, I promise."

You shook your head at him, "Are you implying that I'd die in my sleep?"

Yulian gave you a gentle smile that reached his eyes, "As much as I fancy the idea of having my final rest with you in this stateroom, I'm afraid I'd rather rest with you every day for I am a man of avarice."

Yulian clasped off the lid of the glass bottle and poured out 4 pills for you to drink, "This, is the only cooperation I need from you."

"And what would you do while I snore peacefully in my sleep?" "I had secured a safe boat for both of us." "Then you shouldn't have me done this."

Yulian inched his face closer to yours, "While you do have a point, my dear, I'd rather not have you take in the sight of... humans' true nature. I'd rather not have your heart thumped in uncertainty as we lowered and waited for the rescue team to arrive,"

And he'd rather not let you drown in guilt from the fact that he had taken another woman's and children's spot just to secure the two of you.

The realization that your husband was willing to do anything to ensure your safety began to sink in. Although the knowledge brought a sense of relief, it also brought a wave of guilt as he predicted.

"The night is cold and cruel, it'll be very dark and hollow, far from the word comfort. I just wish my lily-of-the-valley won't have to feel how cruel it is... I won't leave you sunk in the ocean, I won't stop embracing your body, so would you please do your husband a favor?"

You could hear his pocket watch ticking, you could hear the subtle musical instruments being played somewhere, and you could hear your husband's heartbeat matching your pace.

You gave him another meek nod and he smiled in relief, pills poured onto your palm as he stood up to bring a glass of water over to you. You swallowed it down with scrunched eyes, waiting for the effects to take in.

Yulian lowered himself again, rubbing circles with his thumbs,

"You've done well," you stared into his emerald eyes hollowly, throat swallowing a lump of anxiety and horror, "you are a brave soul. Now, let's retreat ourselves to our deserved slumber, shall we?"

Yulian positioned you to sleep on the comfortable bed, the blanket covering your body as he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes observing you while his hand patted your blanketed figure.

"Can you lay down with me too, dear?"

His eyes widened at your request yet despite his initial reaction, he didn't seem to be opposed to the idea. He rounded his way onto the bed, sinking the mattress as a new weight laid on it.

You turned to his side and locked gaze with him, "Good night."

"Good night, dear." He pulled you closer into his embrace and waited for the time to finally strike through the chaos that would ensue soon. Bribery, threat, and backings. If the naval officials failed to let him walk on land, his relationship with one of the nation's most feared Mafia Ringleaders would show them the way.

That alone was enough to kill 2 innocent lives.

****

This has actually been sitting in my drafts since I first watched Titanic (which is last year. I'm re-writing this prompt because, yeehe! 4k celebration!)

#Yulian the Corruption #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #LIfE Project #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Kaspar is the Homie ffs

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spidervee · 1 year

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a little blurb in which tangerine nearly kills you…on accident! tangerine x fem!reader; cursing, tan being a bit of an ass, but also liking when reader is mean to him; some lewd dialogue and dark humour, almost car accident

When you’d left your flat to go for a jog that morning, the last thing you expected was to nearly be flattened by a sleek black Ferrari driven by a man who clearly spent too much time caring for the pornographic moustache over perpetually smirking lips.

Expected or not, however, it’s exactly where you find yourself as you turn a sharp corner and move into the intersection.

It’s early, and the streets are near-empty, so perhaps you’d let your guard down a bit. Or perhaps that barmy fucker behind the wheel was on some six a.m. joyride. Either way, the car skids to a halt, all screeching brakes and blaring horn and you’re frozen for a moment in the fluorescent glow of headlights before you realize just how close you were to being a fucking statistic.

And then, from through the windshield, you meet the driver’s eye and he has the gall to look annoyed rather than apologetic.

“You fuckin’ wanker! Watch where you’re going!”

Inside the car, Tangerine is gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. But the shock of the moment passes and he’s pleased as pudding he was able to stop on time. Civilian casualties are one thing while he and Lemon are working, but there’s no clean-up crew, no protections, no payoff should he accidentally off a cute jogger.

Your fists coming down on the hood of the car jolt Tangerine from his stupor and though he wants to rage at you, he can hardly find it in himself to be angry—a shocking realization that he’ll have to keep quiet from Lemon, lest his brother try to psychoanalyze him with some Thomas the Tank Engine bullshit.

Tangerine doesn’t think as he swings open the car door and slips out to indirect the hood. Your fists are comparatively small and he doubts someone of your stature could do any real damage. And, of course, the Monza is stolen so who the fuck actually cares what happens to it?

He registers that the jogger is cussing him out and he can’t help the patronizing look that etches itself onto his face, the arched eyebrow and smirking curve of his lip. With an air of impatience he tuts at you, interrupting the flow of curses you’re levelling in his direction, a stream of consciousness enough to rival James fucking Joyce, rat paddy bastard and his fucking make-no-sense shitehead Leopold Bloom.

“Best be careful, love,” Tangerine chastises, “Didn’t mummy and daddy teach you to look both fuckin’ ways? And don’t fuckin’ touch my fuckin’ car. Y’know how many pricks you’d have to suck off to pay for what those little hands might fuckin’ do?”

You blink at him, shocked into silence, and for a moment Tangerine savours the sweet sensation of victory. But then, he watches as you pull a wad of bright pink bubblegum from between your clenched teeth and stick it right on the hood ornament of the Monza. Tangerine is certain his eyes bug out of his fucking skull because where the fuck do you get off?

“You little bitch,” he hisses, forgetting the few manners he has for a moment. He takes a lurching step forward, anger finally surging through him at the sheer gall of your action because you’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid or incredibly reckless and it doesn’t matter which one because, whatever character flaw it is, it’s going to get you into deep shite one day and Tangerine decides in that moment he wants to be there to get you out of said shit.

And, when he sees the self-satisfied smirk on your face, the perverse glee you’re getting from witnessing his reaction, the deal is sealed. He laughs, a genuine laugh from deep in his belly. He almost slaps his fucking knee like some nob but the sound of your laughter now mixing with his distracts him enough from that embarrassing almost-action.

“You’re a fuckin’ psycho.” Tangerine catches his breath and fixes you with an amused glare. You cross your arms over your chest and he knows, instantly, that you’re trying to distract him with your fabulous chest. It’s almost working, so he quirks an eyebrow and refocuses on your face which is somehow even more distracting.

Well, fuck him sideways, right?

#tangerine fic #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x fem!reader

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vqrtualheartss · 9 months

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"𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖" — 𝑬42 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

Do not question why the time is going so fast part two

Yes, your friends are low-key bimbos but they book n street smart

Y'all I'm so happy that my page is growing 🥹 I love y'all fr

—Warnings: I have never been outside this country so I am NOT familiar with Brooklyn slang., Use of N word —hence why the title says it's for black readers

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 | Throughout Brooklyn Visions you were known as 'antisocial' —always wearing a mask even after the end of COVID, never at a party or a school function, 'dead socials', and the one that seals the deal: never seen with a boy.— Truth is you weren't even like that, up in that school the way everyone thinks is basically copied and pasted and not in a good way. It wouldn't take much to be viewed differently and not being too interested in interacting with almost anybody, you just kept to yourself. And no, this isn't some typical white highschool movie where you're bullied and apart of some loser, nerd squad, if anything it was far from that. Y'know those pretty, melanin-queen it-girls? Yeah, that's your crew, don't get it twisted though, you weren't some 'accessory friend' used by them —you we're just as pretty if not more— but you've seen how guys treat pretty girls in comparison to those "average" and who would want to be with someone like that? Definitely not you

It was the day before the mid-term break and your friends —Shadae, Nia, Kiara and Lailah— were nowhere to be found. Coming to the conclusion that they were at a party being held for whatever reason an exasperated sigh left your body closing your locker. "So that's really what they doing now? It's their lives soo if they don't care why should I?"

The sun's rays barely illuminated the hallway being hid behind clouds, playing into the gloomy theme. Walking through the large, empty spaces, head held straight going to your third/fifth class, you noticed someone staring at you through your peripheral vision—Miles Morales. A little introduction on him, he was apart of a group basically the male version of yours, minus you. Girls gushed at him, sliding notes into his locker and stuff, typical party animal, you heard through rumours that he hooks up with a new girl every other week. One would think it's false news cause that sounds absolutely atrocious but they came prepared with receipts ―But even those could be made up― and to no surprise, there were girls wanting to be one of his bi-weekly flings. Come to say though, it was a little weird how his gaze situated on you as you walked but you decided to brush it off as nothing. There's no way you could see yourself interacting with him. Ever.

In class

Since it was the last day so far all teachers gave a free period. As usual, you remained silent scrolling through whatever the media had to offer, even though having admitted that it was a boring ritual, you refrained to do otherwise. Time passed and the bell rung with you not wasting a second getting out the door, stuff already packed.

Moving along the steps going down to the next classroom, the deafening screech of the intercom went off as the minority of students covered their ears including yourself waiting for it to end, seeing a person take down their hands, everyone did too before the announcement went off.

"Attention students and staff: In light of the reduced teaching activities and productive learning for the day, we have made the decision to conclude school early. We believe that providing you with this extra time will allow you to enjoy a well-deserved break. Make the most of this unexpected opportunity and enjoy your extended free time!"

The halls erupted with cheers, laughter and talking as people made their way outside the school, although intending to head straight home, a few necessary stops to some stores had to be made before doing so. Heading out, you opened the phone still in your hand to make a list of things that came up to mind

Braiding hair

Gummy Wax

Bonnet

More coconut watrdf

"The fuck?" The words slipped from my mouth under a whisper at the sudden jolt of my body -can't even write a list in this school-, looking back I saw someone holding onto my arm, stopping me from going outside. It was Miles, -what could he ever want from me?- my eyebrow lifted, "hm?" "Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you" he released his hand off my body, leaning on a locker with his bag hanging off his shoulder "Um okay, about what?" I crossed my arms, noticing his eyes widened slightly before returning to their natural, slightly seductive state. "You actually talk?" "Nope" Trying to escape, he caught onto my hand, our eyes piercing into the others before he added "Alright that one was my fault, but I just wanted to ask if you're doing alright"

I glanced over his shoulder, searching for his friends, a camera, or any signs of people giggling, this had to be some sort of prank. Finding nothing, I gave in -one conversation can't hurt right?- "Yea I am, why do you ask?" "I didn't see your friends- wait" he tilted his head towards the door, hinting for us to go outside "You ain't tryna be seen with me or you good right here? " I looked around the room, dragging a hand down my face acknowledging the little clusters of people staring. Facing him again, I nodded and together we made our way out.

"So where we going first? Am I getting punk'd? I saw the lil' list you had" Rubbing his palms together, he anticipated my response as we crossed the road. Using my hand as a sun blocker, I squinted before answering

"You're very nosy and I will be-" "We" I stood taking a good look at the boy, blinking slowly. Realizing that he didn't plan on going anywhere else I caved in, "We will be going to the hair supply store first" he smiled at my renewed sentence.

"His dimples are cute- " "Nah shut the fuck up actually." "But he is though"

Shaking away the thoughts going back and forth with themselves, I focused my attention back to Miles who was already looking at me. To be fair, I was still skeptical of the sudden interactions and wanting to waste no one's time, I went straight toward my point. "What do you want? If you want something with one of my friends I can give it to you y'know" I kid you not when I say that this boy burst out laughing.

He held a hand at his chest before we stopped walking "That's what you think of me f'real?" I shrugged replying "That's what I think of most of them" I made a popping noise with my mouth, his hands digging deeper into the jacket's pockets. A playful smirk dancing on his face as he bit his lip, he was fine and I'm sure he knew it― Girl, no

Still standing, I continued. "Word in the street says that you copping a new chick every two weeks" he narrowed his eyes as I loosened my bag straps. "I be in the streets everyday and I never heard that" crossing his arms, he sent me a jest-filled glare before continuing " and how YOU hearing what's going on in these streets Miss Mysterious?" He pointed at me in the middle of his sentence to which I scratched my neck nervously with my index finger, avoiding any eye contact. Finishing his sentence he urged for my response with a "huh?" before looking down at me with half closed eyes, still chewing on his bottom lip

Counting on my fingers, I started to explain myself "Okay one, I don't gossip but the friends I hang around do and I have working ears, so what? And number two, I have a name sir" "Are you going to tell me it?" "It's (y/n)" "Well, (y/n) to answer your first question. Your crew? Nah, they okay but you though, you caught my eye. And I ain't trying to serve up that 'you're unique' cliché but real shit, that's what got me wanting to talk with you" "Okay I'm sure I'm not that interesting" my hands now rested on the curve of my hips, blankly looking at Miles who couldn't seem to take his eyes off of me. "Let me be the judge of that, tell me more about you"

I shook my head as I went to approach the other side of the pole he was on, worst mistake . He yanked me by my bag, dragging me over to his side as he stared at me with wide eyes "we don't do that shit around here" he extended his hand , pointing to the path infront him.

I looked back at him in disbelief, my eyes and eyebrows being the only features to express my astonishment, looking at my half expression, he laughed. "My bad, just please use your sense next time" "You talk too much, we need to get going" he raised his hands in defense "Alright ma'am" I rubbed my temple smiling underneath my mask, my lips making some type of imprint beneath it

Walking there was pretty interesting, getting bombarded with questions about myself and not about my friends. It was the first time I'd actually had a conversation with someone outside my circle, and you know what? It wasn't half bad. I found myself laughing and smiling at something that wasn't some dumb cat falling and it was quite nice.

Approaching the door and opening it, I joked "Ladies first" "Oh so you got jokes now? Guess I'm rubbing off on you" Rolling my eyes whilst walking inside, he wiped away an imaginary tear entering the store behind me. Taking a quick stroll through the aisles I saw Miles taking up some stuff too —some combs, wax, and a durag—

Shopping didn't go so smooth for me though, being stuck between three colours to choose from —1B, 30 and 350—."What's up?" Standing clueless, Miles came over to my area, positioning himself beside me, waiting for me to say something. Raising my hands with the braiding hair before slapping them on my thighs lightly, I complained "I can't choose" Taking the hair from my hands he started to put each one beside my head before speaking "You'd look like a doll in this one, go for it"

While he returned the hair back to their original positions except the one he picked —which was colour 30— I raised my eyebrows, internally questioning his choice of words before speaking up "you have such a smooth mouth don't you?" Crossing my hands as I gave him a mild, sidelong glance traced with amusement that turned into confusion when he placed his hand atop his head, biting his lip. "I woke up Chris Breezy, oh my God I'm the man" Mouth agape, I dragged a hand over my mask to stifle the laughter "Alright cool cool I get it, you spit lyrics like that. Get up" "shoulda known it's been that way, now let's go. We have more stuff to buy" He took two more packs of hair before we walked over to the cashier — the place where I had to find out how stubborn this boy is—

"Let me pay for it" "No, it's my stuff. I'm more than fine paying"

The cashier cleared her throat, annoyed at our 5-minute long bickering

"Oh sorry, here-" I shuffled inside my bag for my purse, completely oblivious to whatever Miles was doing "Here" "Thank you" I looked up hearing the cashier's words, completely shocked that Miles Morales, a 17 year old just handed the woman a black card. It must be nice.

Bagging the items he turned to face me, "See, I told you I'll pay" "Here, I'll pay you-" "No, think of it as.. a us becoming friends gift, plus we have more things to buy so save up"

Stretching my mouth underneath my nose I teased "Who said we're friends" he deadpanned while handing me my own bag with items "Don't play with me. I know your favourite colours, music, food, and more. I'm real friend material" I laughed at his reaction, not to mention his remix on the "real wifey material" part.

But he was right though, we had more places to be, taking out my phone to check the updated list we comprised together, glancing at the time, I cursed 4:48 PM. "Shit um, I really have to go home. Bye, and thank you" my words dragged themselves louder as I ran down the road waving at him frantically.

You hurried along your usual route back home, "Why the rush?" Well, the aim was to snag a 5 PM package. It might sound like a flimsy excuse to part ways with Miles knowing that girls would kill you in the armor of envy for him, but the package would be returned to facility if not claimed and who wants to wait months again? He'd understand. After securing the package you went home, fortunately enough it started to rain, the pattering of the droplets masking the sound of your attempts sneaking into your room to avoid any confrontation from your parents.

Usually when it rained you found the atmosphere peaceful— having been in a night gown with your bonnet on— but this time, it felt different. For some unknown reason you couldn't shake Miles off your mind—the sensual energy that radiated from him, his seductive stare he always wore or the husky laughs that echoed between you two— Everything about him was alluring, slowly drawing you in and you did not like it.

Miles, on the other hand didn't suppress his feelings, having to physically wipe the smiles and cut the laughter he created each time he thought about you. Ironic enough, he hadn't a clue what it was about you that had him this way. Shit, he doesn't even know how you look. He was sure of however, what it would take to even have a chance at holding your hand given the rumours that you've heard about him, but he was hell-bent on giving it a try.

#Spotify #black tumblr #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales #vqrtualheartss #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #dae #miles molares #e42 miles #earth 42 miles fluff #earth42miles

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orange-artist · 8 months

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I am absolutely in love with your God au and would love to write a fic about it if you don't mind. But since I'm not good at tumblr and may have missed some points, I want to ask a few questions to better fit your canons.

So: how did the gods choose their parents? I mean they agreed with them? Maybe they came in a dream or something like that?

Can a god not have a parent in principle? (it seems like I saw a post that Outlook does not exist and Uta is an adopted)

Did the priests have any gestures for prayers? (because I immediately came up with a gesture for praying to Ace when I saw his amulet and read about the priest Marco)

At what point did the gods remember themselves?

How do you feel about the change in ships? (because I'm sure I won't be able to adequately prescribe KidLawLu, and I'm also crazy about MarcoAce).

And lastly, can you give me some sketches with Uta, because all I found is that she marked Shanks' team, stayed on Elegia and that she fights with Luffy 😅

I hope you give your permission, because I really got fired up by this au and this work

P.S. I really hope that you could understand what I wrote, since English is not my native language))

Oh!!!! HELLA pls tag me if you write it I would love to see it!

how did the gods choose their parents? I mean they agreed with them? Maybe they came in a dream or something like that?

When the gods got unsealed at Raftel when Roger opened what was essentially Pandora's box, they gravitated towards the strongest source that called out to their domains. Sabo to Goa Kingdom, then to Dragon. Luffy to Dragon. Ace to Roger and Uta to Shanks.

Can a god not have a parent in principle? (it seems like I saw a post that Outlook does not exist and Uta is an adopted)

Nah! None of the gods have 'parents'. They just adopt their 'parent' as a parent for the funsies.

Did the priests have any gestures for prayers? (because I immediately came up with a gesture for praying to Ace when I saw his amulet and read about the priest Marco)

I have not thought about this yet! Go wild! Make it up! <3

At what point did the gods remember themselves?

They didn't forget! Just, none of them are cruel and have any desire to seek revenge for things done 800 years ago so they all just kinda lay low.

They got sealed 800 years ago in the Great War and was released with Roger got the Raftel.

How do you feel about the change in ships? (because I'm sure I won't be able to adequately prescribe KidLawLu, and I'm also crazy about MarcoAce).

GHJADKHFJA The KidLawLu is NOT canon to the AU don't worry. That's just me. I'm just stupid about them. There's no romantic ships in the AU right now. But yeah, feel free to ascribe whatever ship you want! <3 :)

And lastly, can you give me some sketches with Uta, because all I found is that she marked Shanks' team, stayed on Elegia and that she fights with Luffy 😅

When the Red Haired Pirates visit Elegia, she senses the spirit of Tot Musica and decides to stay there to keep it sealed. Elegia isn't destroyed and she starts her little live streaming there and becomes famous as a pop singer. Later, when Luffy and co. visit Elegia and help take on Tot Musica once and for all, Uta goes out too travel with Shank's crew again as their musician.

She has (realistic) wings that change color from white to light blue to black (colors in the movie). She's never without her headphones, she hears too much and it's overwhelming without them.

Let me know if you have anymore questions!!!

Feel free to DM me if ya want too <3 XD

#orange asks #asl god au

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quickandsilvers · 2 months

Note

I have been thinking,,, non stop about that Peter Maximoff music ask,,, and like

Another song that popped into my head that apocalypse era Peter would use in such a scenario? Rod Stewart, "Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?"

Like,,, I'm sorry, are we gonna pretend that it's NOT a song he'd fuck to?

ALSO Dark Phoenix Peter! Another song that I think fits his vibe! Alice Cooper, "Poison". Like, it's just... it's got the edge, the sexy bass, the desperation, the... everything.

Hhhh,,,, I need this speedy silver himbo so much,,,, 😔😔😔

(Also the "bunny humping" description made me laugh, ngl...)

ROD STWART?! 100 PERCENT AGREED, ANON! ITS NOT AN OPINION ANYMORE, IT’S DOWNRIGHT THE TRUTH!!!

Alice Cooper is definitely a go-to for bedroom times with quickie, esp ‘You and Me’🧎‍♀️💕💖

Alright, here’s some songs i think would be playing whilst Peter x reader are getting it on:

-Hotel California- Eagles (maybe this is just a fantasy for me but… let’s dwell on it, ‘kay?)

-Kiss from a Rose- Seal (can you imagine singing along to the chorus whilst being drilled against a wall? HOH MAMA)

-Layla- Derek & The Dominos (a given. Someone suggested this before and it’s the nothing but the truth)

-Money For Nothing- Dire Straits (need I give an explanation? maybe a little too groovy for seggsy times with our speedster though…)

-Whole Lotta Love- Led Zeppelin (had to fan myself from the mere thought of this one,, goddamn)

-Stargazer- Rainbow (He’s totes gonna try and fuck you to the beat. And with the tempo of this song? Hoh’ boy, get ready to explain to Charles why you need him to lend you his spare wheelchair for a week)

-Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ - Journey (i think the name says enough)

-White Wedding - Pt. 1- Billy Idol (This SCREAMS dark phoenix peter)

-Hungry Like the Wolf- Duran Duran (honestly? I might as well add the entire Duran Duran discography to this mixtape. He probably plays this especially when eating you out and makes a lame joke about the song title before devouring you)

-Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang- Silver (you probably both belt this to eachother, maybe even pausing your fooling around just to have a little groove💕💕oh boy does this make my heart flutter)

-(I Just) Died In Your Arms- Cutting Crew (Peter added this thinking he was the romantic of the century. Like “babe, whaddaya mean it’s corny?”)

-Emotion Detector- Rush (thank you Geddy Lee for creating the song of the millennium🧎‍♀️)

-I Want to Know What Love Is- Foreigner (a classic. a staple for love songs in the 80s, dare i miss it out?? Also again, a very dark phoenix peter song)

-Sugar Walls- Sheena Easton (Peter only really added this to get a laugh out of you. He’s insistent on the fact that you taste sweeter than a twinkie..i wonder what walls he’s referring to, hm?)

-Slide It In- Whitesnake (c’mon now, what did you really expect,,, from a goof with the humour of a twelve year-old boy no less?)

-Flesh For Fantasy- Billy Idol (thank you our lord and saviour Billy Idol for the contributions to this mixtape, you never fail us)

Honourable mention:

-Carless Whisper- George Michael (Just like he did with The Cutting Crew, Peter added this under the impression he was the epitome of romantic. The deadpan/unimpressed look you gave him said otherwise. That was the first and last time Peter took seductive song suggestions from Deadpool.. why did he even ask??)

#totes not writing a fic on this (i am)#someone tranqualize me im taking these ideas and running with them #peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters masterlist #evan peters headcannons #evan peters x reader #evan peters characters #quicksilver smut

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boinday · 11 days

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I could be wrong but did one of Roha’s crew members say that only men were moonbeasts? Because Ishki’s crew definitely all make me think moonbeasts— I figured her to be a spotted seal almost immediately, and iirc there may be one other woman on the crew itself

Also Ishmi’s first mate: red fox?

I think this is the panel you're thinking of:

This confused/surprised more people than I was expecting, since the episode ends with our insane ex-wife making her debut appearance (and you've got a good eye for Moonbeast animals ;3 ) but a lot of people seem to think this means Blade was wrong when they said this. Blade WAS wrong, but in a different aspect than the way I think many interpreted it.

Blade is right that the Moonbeast gene is only inherited by a subset of the population; as they say, it skipped their mother and sisters and went straight to Blade. But Blade is wrong in what they, at this point in the story, think it means to be a "boy."

In this way, Ishki's introduction at the end of that episode was meant as an optimistic portend for Blade's story, that they can recontextualise what it means to be a Moonbeast and that perhaps it's not as black and white as it seemed when Roha told Blade they were "becoming a man."

Poor Roha, he's doing his best to be a supportive adoptive dad, using the only positive role model he ever had:

Regardless of biological sex, Blade clearly doesn't feel like "a boy," but since they're a Moonbeast, and the Moon "only wants boys," Blade feels not so unlike Rose at the beginning of the story: chaffing against a predetermined, immovable fate they were assigned at birth.

And so it seemed only right to me that the episode feature two adult woman whose characters fundamentally reject that concept of assignment, albeit in different ways. In this way, Blade is surrounded by their own bright future, even if they themselves don't see that yet.

I mean, Ishki's crazy, but I think we can all agree she's one hell of a woman 🙏🥰 and her existence means Blade's journey of self-actualisation can be achieved.

#and yes he's a red fox :3 #asks #rtr comic #rose tide rising #long post

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yippeetournament · 8 months

Text

The Yippee Tournament has officially ended! Thank you for participating!

If you like this art, be sure to check out my main blog at @thecrazedpotato!

And be sure to stay tuned for the next Yippee Tournament in the future!

Rankings below!

Rankings (based on final percentages):

Espurr (Pokemon)

Alula (OneShot)

Lancer (Deltarune)

Sena (Xenoblade Chronicles 3)

Bridget (Guilty Gear)

Chiyo Mihama (Azumanga Daioh)

Blue Pikmin (Pikmin)

PaRappa Rappa (PaRappa The Rapper)

White Seal Crew (A Hat In Time)

Papyrus (Undertale)

Nijika Ijichi (Bocchi the Rock)

Heropon Riki (Xenoblade Chronicles)

Bunny from Zoobe.com

Hatsune Miku

Penny (Pokemon Scarlet & Violet)

Medli (The Legend of Zelda The Windwaker)

Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls)

Jerry Attricks (Scott The Woz)

Tiff (Kirby Right Back at Ya)

Klonoa

Marcy Wu (Amphibia)

Kel (Omori)

Sora (Kingdom Hearts)

Uee (PaRappa The Rapper Anime)

Kuneko (Cassette Beasts)

Sophia (Persona 5 Strikers)

Ty Lee (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Futaba Sakura (Persona 5)

Mario

Luz Noceda (The Owl House)

Gustavo (Pizza Tower)

Cassie (Five Nights at Freddy's Security Breach Ruin)

Thanks again for participating!

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penvisions · 5 months

Text

of beskar and kyber {chapter 12}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The job Din took to get credits takes a turn for the worse, the crew turning on him in a way that insights your direct involvement. It leads to a heavy conversation between the two of you.

Word Count: 11k (holy crap!)

Warnings: sexual content (!!), dry humping, talk of sexual intimacy, talk of previous sexual experiences, talk of sexual boundaries, description of male and female bodies, orgasm, sexual innuendos, sexual teasing, description of injuries (brief), canon typical violence, fighting, use of blades / knives, description of being stabbed / cut, description of being impaled (!!), tense situations, stalking, san fights(!), unsavory characters

A/N: took a few liberties with episode six, i hope y'all don't mind! a few things were changed in order to accommodate san's presence. i hope y'all like this once, a lot of stuff happens but that seems to be the way these are gonna go as we pick up plotlines from the series! there's a BIG scene that i hope people enjoy, lemme know what you think, pls? i'm so nervous to move the story along in this way but it felt like the right moment for these two

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You were quiet as you boarded the ship, thoughts buzzing into white noise that you couldn’t begin to decipher. This…this was a mess. This was far more complicated than a simple rescue of a man that had been taken by rivals. This was an elongated interaction with people from Din’s past and people who had no respect for him despite knowing nothing of him but stories from a time past.

Realistically, you knew it would be a different dynamic between you both with other people around, with going back to a routine of sorts for Din to collect credits and take jobs. Bound to be a harder living now, in the wake of his separation from the Guild. But the people he had sought out to work with? It was all too nerve-wracking, too risky. Ignoring the fact that one of his past involvements was a part of the crew assigned to the job, the issue that concerned you the most was that Mayfeld had once been Imperial.

He could’ve been one of the people sent after you, could’ve been one of the people informed of your survival, one of the people who could recognize you. And that, paired with the presence of the Child, was too risky for you. Tempting to pull Din aside as ask him to drop you both off somewhere to wait for him to complete this job. But even that could bring more attention to you, and you were frustrated to be in such a plight.

The sounds of Zero up in the control room filtered down into the hold and you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizzying thoughts that were taking over, consuming from the inside out. If the ship was a part of the job, there wouldn’t be any time to ask for alternative surroundings. You would have to deal with whatever was about to transpire head on, whether you were a part of the job directly or not. Your involvement was inevitable. The voices of the people you would have to endure for the next few rotations were a drone from just beyond the ramp.

The droid climbed down the ladder and walked past you without so much as a glance, but you could hear him speak as he descended the ramp toward the group gathered outside as they went over things.

“Despite recent modifications, the ship is still quite a mess.”

A few more moments passed before the group was entering the ship. As soon as you heard steps on the ramp, you quickly climbed the ladder and sealed yourself in your room. Standing before the crate Din had given you, you reached down to unclasp it and began to dig around. The rattling of your painkillers could be heard before your hands closed around the bottle.

“She’s not a part of the crew, she doesn’t need to know any details.” Xi’an’s trilling voice floated up from the hold and seeped through the open door that Din had just walked through.

“Bet she’d be a good lookout, sure put you in your place. Could be an asset if we get bogged down. Not too bad on the eyes either.” The countering voice of Mayfeld sounded before the door hushed shut, drowning out Xi’an’s heated next words. It allowed for their voices to become muffled and when you didn’t look up from where you kneeled in front of the crate a sigh fell from Din.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now, other than that this is a bad idea.”

“I didn’t know she was still a part of the crew.” You pulled the bottle from beneath the clothes it had been under, still not looking over toward his armored form close to the door.

“She’s not the problem, not the only one anyway.” You grumbled as you tried to get the cap off the bottle, but your hands were shaking. “He’s Imperial, do you have any idea the kind of danger that puts me in, that puts ad’ika in?”

“He’s some front line soldier, the chances of him knowing about-“

“It doesn’t matter!” You pushed up quickly, turning to face him, pills forgotten. “There’s still a chance!”

“Did you even think this through before you contacted Ran?”

“Of course I did.”

“D-“ You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check, trying not to say his name aloud should anyone overhear. Pinching the bridge of your nose to stem off the headache that was forming, you decided to be completely honest with him, to tell him that he was being reckless. “Mando, you didn’t. You have a child aboard the ship.”

“And I will protect him at any cost. Protect you at any cost.” He regarded you quietly, taking in the way you slammed the crate closed and began to pace back and forth in the small space. You were wound up, the clasps on the trunk tinkling as they vibrated, his eyes glancing at them and then toward your clenching hands. The energy flowing off of you was palpable and for a second, he was in awe of the natural way you manipulate it without even thinking. You had forgone hiding your powers in favor of giving Xi’an the same treatment she had treated you with, it had been rather telling of your emotions to push back against her so easily. “I didn’t know they’d need the ship.”

“I-I don’t like this. It’s too much of a risk.”

“I understand that you’re afraid-“

“Of course I’m afraid! My entire fucking life has been thrown off by the Empire and one of the people who served for them is aboard the ship!”

The errant items around the room were floating in the air with the energy from your emotions. You didn’t even notice you had been causing it until Din stepped closer to you and reached out for you. You glared at him and before you could say anything, he was gripping your face in his gloved hands and stooping in low to peer directly at you. The visor so close that you could see the reflection of your panicked eyes staring back at you. You looked so scared, face contorted in a concerning display.

“Please calm down, mesh’la.”

“You should’ve told me, before you contacted Ran.”

“I should’ve, I wasn’t- I didn’t think.”

“I know it’s not my place, but-“

“You deserve a say, you have a say. I will heed anything you have concerns about.”

“Where are we going?”

The pause he took told you enough about the matter. You weren’t going to like it; with the way he was hesitant to inform you was all the answer you needed. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, gloves brushing the braid your hair was up in and pinned around the back of your head.

“A New Republic prison transport ship.”

“They have you breaking into a prison ship to free an inmate? Okay, that’s- Okay…do you want me to stay on the Crest or do you want me-“

“I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to do it. It’s up to you, mesh’la.” You guided his hands from around your body, gripping them tight with your own. With a questioning glint in your eye, you removed his gloves and tucked them into his utility belt. His hands rose to cup your face once again, eyelashes fluttering at the bare feel of them. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in a soothing motion.

“I would feel better being with you, I don’t trust them. And that’s not to say I don’t have faith in you, but…”

“I understand, I have faith in you too. I would like it if you were aboard the ship with ad’ika, but it won’t be taking off unless you and I are both back on board.”

“I…will stay, but you contact me the second anything goes awry. Promise me, please?”

“I swear to you.” He watched as you brought his hands up and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of his knuckles. The modulator in his helmet crackled, the sound bringing a smile to your face as it revealed something about him. That he liked your touch on him, the affection you were giving him.

The visor stayed focused on you, but you were sure his eyes were traveling back and forth between your lips on his skin and shine of your eyes as they glinted with a promise.

Metal doors slamming open had you following right on Din’s feet, down the ladder and into the hold.

Burg was standing in front of the cabinet where Din kept most of his weaponry and supplies. It was right outside of his quarters, and your eyes trained on the control pad for it, checking that the lock was still engaged.

It had been an brief conversation that ad’ika would be kept away from the people aboard the ship. A worry about Xi’an and her knives along with concern about him getting overwhelmed and exposing his own powers. You could hold your own, should they decide to try and test you. Though the idling fear of them talking about the exchange between you and Xi’an was a low thrumming in the back of your mind.

With a press to his vambrace, the cabinet swiftly closed before the Devaronian could get his hands on anything. Mayfeld and Xi’an both looked over from where they were seated around the makeshift table as you stepped off the last rung of the ladder and stood beside the imposing figure of Din.

Burg huffed, a frustrated sound coming from low in his chest. He turned around to stand over Din, trying to intimidate him once again. As his hand flew out to mess with the controls closest to him, the one leading to the closed off quarters, you and Din both stepped forward, you move in front of the door, behind the tall man. At the contact of Din restraining Burg from moving any further, Mayfeld decided to jump in with repeated utterances of ‘hey and okay’.

“I get it. I’m a little particular about my personal space, too.” As he spoke, Din sidled around Burg, urging him away from the door. You stood your ground as Din stood beside you once again. “So let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don’t have to see our faces anymore.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian and his little shadow.” Burg rumbled as he stared you both down, unwavering in his direct contact.

“Well, apparently they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy.” Mayfeld leaned back a little, raising his arms out. “So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

You bristled internally at the hurled comment, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as you felt energy wash over you. The ill-mannered attitude and crack of a ‘joke’ sitting like lead in your stomach and heart. Too many of Din’s kind were gone, mostly wiped out. Those that prevailed, did so with such a vibrance for their way of life and continuation of religion and culture. While you may not be Mandalorian yourself, you had been rescued and cared for one in your darkest hour and for years after. Endless respect and admiration for your guardian and Din beside you stirring the need to protect.

You were about to take a step forward when you felt Din brush his hand against one of your own. Xi’an took notice of the small movement event as she laughed along with the guys and continued to balance the point of a knife on her outstretched hand. A hard tint to her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi’an.” Mayfeld rolled his head to look over at her across the makeshift table they were both seated at. Clear, now, of your metal working tools and the armor you had been working on before anyone had boarded. “Is he as good as they say?”

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” She turned her focus back onto the blade, ignoring the way you were standing guard over the doors still, how close you were to the armored man in question.

“I did what I had to.”

“Oh, but you liked it.” She spun the knife around to grip the handle, pointing a finger toward him from across the space, her voice hinting at something more. With a telling smile that allowed a glimpse of her sharp canines, her eyes flitted from his visor to you behind him and back. “See, I know who you really are.”

Her words were for you, though her eyes never left his figure. Taunting,

“He never takes off the helmet?”

“This is the way.” She mocked in a low timbre, bringing a closed fist to the front of her chest.

“I wonder what you look like under there.” Mayfeld pinned him with a look, something behind his eyes you weren’t too fond of. “Maybe he’s a Gungan.”

“You ever seen his face?”

Xi’an gasped, the sound drawn out and breathy as she caressed one of her lekku with a gentle hand.

“A lady never tells.”

She had to be lying, he wouldn’t have removed it for her. He wouldn’t remove it for anything, it was his sworn Creed. And yet, doubt painted your thoughts in a dark swath. Jealousy lit up ugly inside of you, making you question the tentative stepping stones you’ve already waded on. Made you feel inadequate in the face of seeking him out in such a way. Though he had done nothing to prompt the feelings himself, it was all based on her and her reactions. The intimidation you felt from her garnering negative emotions in the wake of rediscovering yourself and your own notions of things taken from your life and tainted in the worst way.

“What about you, surely you’ve been privy to it?” Mayfeld’s eyes found your own, a smirk pulling at his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him, not willing to play into his teasing with so much as a shake of your head. It was none of his business, none of anyone’s business but Din’s. The lack of respect they had for his way of life, his religion, his Creed was sickening. Their collected ignorance a telling sign that they didn’t care about anything that didn’t directly serve them. Then the insinuation of intimacy and the breaching of personal boundaries had your shoulders knotting tight, fingers tapping against your thigh.

“Aw, c’mon, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. She trusts you, for whatever reason, what’d you have to do to gain that?”

“Do not incite her, in any matter.” The modulator crackled with the force of his words, as if they were being spoken in that dark voice through clenched teeth. You let him take the figurative step of telling them to control themselves, having worked with at least one member of their little quartet before. He knew better than you, what type of people Ran employed and kept in his company.

“You gotta show us something. Come on. Just lift the helmet up.”

Burg loomed closer, form so large in the space of the hold.

“C’mon, let us all see your eyes.”

At a small nod from Mayfeld, Burg reached out a hand with a confidence.

Din immediately slammed a hand over his wrist and pulled him forward, using the loss of the man’s momentum to shove him away. You stepped back, trying to stay out of the way. Burg quickly gathered his bearings and lunged, only to be kicked back into the small alcove beside the quarters. Trying to catch himself from falling on his back, Burg’s hands shot out and gripped the wall, fingers dragging over the controls for the door. They flew open behind you to reveal ad’ika standing atop the cot, face contorted and nervous.

He looked from you to Din, sounds falling from him that made no sense. Reaching out mentally, you tried to sooth him, to let him know everything was okay.

But everyone’s attention was on him, and it made him freeze in his spot.

“What is that?” Mayfeld wondered, unbridled excitement coloring his tone as he stood from his seat and began to move closer. You moved to block his view into the quarters, blocking ad’ika from the lingering stares as you felt panic wave off of his small form. One of his small hands reached out for you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Din didn’t move as Mayfeld walked past him, Xi’an rising from her seat behind him and following.

“You get lonely up here, buddy?” Mayfeld approached, peering over your shoulder with an intensity that unnerved you.

“What a minute, did you two make that?” He turned to Xi’an, close on his heels. Her curiosity getting the better of her in the moment.

“Don’t.” You said, reaching out a hand to keep him a few paces away.

“What is it? Like a pet or something?” He pestered, waving his hand up and around, watching the way large eyes followed the movement over your shoulder.

“Yeah, something like that.” Din finally spoke, though it wasn’t what you expected. He was trying to play this off, like it wasn’t a secret that had been unearthed. Hoping that the initial reaction would wane into one of indifference.

“No? Okay, what about you, is that thing yours?” Mayfeld’s eyes roved up and down your body, lingering in places they shouldn’t. “Bet it was a hell of a good time, making something like that. I wouldn’t mind a partner as submissive as you seem to be for him.”

“Watch it.” You growled, words forcing their way through clenched teeth. You could hear the crinkling of leather as Din did his best to keep his hands to himself, willing you to deal with the unsavory attention lest the entire job blow up. You closed your hand, feeling the energy around you and manipulating it, Mayfeld gasped as the air in his lungs was suddenly gone. He stopped trying to get ad’ikas attention and clawed at his throat. His face reddened as he struggled to breath but at a nod from Din you ceased the action.

“Didn’t take you for the type.” Xi’an moved into his personal space, face only a few inches from the front of his helmet. As if she wanted to touch him, her hands twitched at her sides. “Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

Quickly gathering breath back into his lungs, Mayfeld didn’t drop the teasing, though it was less direct.

“Me, I wasn’t ever really into pets. Didn’t have the temperament. But I’m thinking, maybe, I’ll try again with this little fella. Take him off your hands and babysit.” He tried to get around you, but you flung him back, his feet sliding across the durasteel flooring.

“Do not touch him,” Your entire body was alight with the instincts to protect, to hurt those invading personal space and boundaries time and time again in such a short window.

Zero’s voice broke the tension with the announcement of dropping out of hyperspace.

The ship lurched, jostling everyone with how rough it was.

The ship careened, gravity shifting from underneath you. Your stomach was in your throat, and you were reaching for the small being tossed from the cot. Your fingers just grazed the edges of his tunic as he flew past you. Your back knocked into the door frame, but you kept as quiet as you could, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. The Child cried as he landed harshly on the floor, right where Din had been thrown to his knees, barely able to catch himself from flattening completely.

As the ship landed and docked onto the top of the transport ship, stable for the time being, Din carefully cradled ad’ika in his arms and pressed him into your own. You curled your arms around him, sitting atop the cot and murmured soft words to him as he clung to you.

“That useless droid didn’t even give us a proper countdown.” Xi’an hissed as she straightened up herself, having been tossed over the makeshift table and across the hold.

“Alright, Mando, we’ve got a job to do.”

He stepped away from you, his visor lingering on you before he turned to face the watching group. As he did so, he pressed something along his vambrace, controlling the bottom panel of the ship and it opened up to reveal an entrance aboard the ship below. He connected a device to the seal of the entrance, the small screen blinking red in rapid succession. You watched as everyone exchanged looks, communicating something you weren’t privy to as they collected around him and peered down.

As soon as the device displayed a green screen, the entrance unlocked and opened with a hiss.

Disengaging the device, Din gathered up the cable and stepped aside.

“It’s me?” Mayfeld asked, looking around at the faces trained on him.

“Always you.” Burg announced, as if leading the job wasn’t something Mayfeld was quite used to. Didn’t know that it was his responsibility to lead in ways other than with his words. He lowered himself to the ground and took a cautionary glance into the space below. Deeming it clear, he braced his arms along something and dipped out of sight. Xi’an and Burg followed after him.

Din’s figure paused as he stood around the entrance, looking over to you for a moment. You were already watching him. You stood, closing the distance, adi’ka held close to your chest. Leaning up, you pressed your forehead to the front of the helmet in what was quickly becoming your greeting and farewell with the man.

“Keep in contact,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to overhear you despite them no longer being in the same space. He nodded once, before he jumped and disappeared through the opening.

Beeping sounded from your vambrace, alerting you of an incoming call. You quickly pressed the button to allow the audio transmission to filter through. You had been trying to distract yourself by working on the chainmail, something repetitive enough to keep your mind occupied while you waited for Din’s return or a communication from him.

“Sarad, I’m locked in a cell. They’re coming back to the ship.” A heavy sigh separated his announcement from the orders he gave next. “Take out the droid and put the ship on manual lockdown, make the settings ask for either your chain code or mine to operate. We have fifteen minutes until the Republic Army descends.”

You left all of your supplies and materials out in the open on the table and quickly checked on adi’ka, making sure he was secure in Din’s small room. You handed him a snack, hoping he would sleep with a full stomach and through whatever was about to transpire. Making your way up to the cockpit, you could hear Zero talking to the others.

“You have a potential problem. He has escaped.” Zero was announcing over the comm line as you silently entered the control room. You raised your saber in your hand, blade not yet engaged. You brought it down swiftly, bringing it to life and beheading the droid in a smooth motion. His voice box tittered and the entirety of his body sparked before he fell to the floor of the room.

You set the ship according to Din’s instructions and jumped down through the open space in the hold before you could catch your breath.

The lights were flickering, power being shut off and you could hear corridor walls slamming shut. The lights kicked back on, bathing the entire ship in eerie red hues. Closing your eyes, you focused on the situation at hand, centering your self before you began to move about the foreign ship.

As soon as you found an access point, you connected your vambrace to the source. You searched the stored files for a layout of the ship and downloaded the display. Holding it up, you began to run down the hallways, leading you toward where you could feel the presence of Din.

You comm sparked to life as soon as you rounded a corner.

“Xi’an is two turns away from you, mesh’la.”

“Copy that.”

You stayed one hallway behind her, keeping tabs on her and the path she was winding around the ship. A silent stalker she had yet to sense was just around the corner. You could only hope she would lead you toward Din, the hallways closed off every so often, creating a labyrinth. As she moved about, more would hiss shut behind or in front of her, as if guiding her toward her assailant in an unnerving way.

She suddenly stopped, turning and throwing three knives down the hallway you were just hovering on the edge of. Looking at the map displayed from your vambrace, you turned and decided to get ahead of her and take her down. Just as you heard her steps approaching your position, she whirled around and began flinging knives out. Din was an intimidating figure on the other end of the hall, she was trapped between the two of you. She tried to stave you both off, but it was clear she was better at throwing than direct defense.

Metal clanged as knives bounced off of Din’s armor, but one landed into the unprotected part of his shoulder, and he stumbled back. She advanced quickly, and they found themselves in a stalemate, his own knife held under her chin and one of hers at his inner thigh. She caught sight of you in the corner of her eye and with a smirk she plunged it deep into his leg. He shouted out in pain, leg weakening as blood discolored his trousers. She pushed off of him and charged at you, but you engaged your saber and rushed toward her.

She flung two knives at you, but you easily cut them in half and they fell to the floor.

“You think you’re so much better than me?” She snarled as she managed to swipe the back of your hand, saber slicing into her shoulder. She jumped back, trying to get some distance but you advanced, blade humming ominously. She hollered loudly, glancing away for the barest second back at where Din was kneeling on the ground and trying to shake the feeling back into his leg. “That he’s going to stay with you but he’s going to run, he’s going to run from you just like he did with me.”

“You’re nothing!” You didn’t bother rising to her taunts as you swopped the glowing blade low, jolting her back to avoid her ankles getting singed. But you had grazed her, the leather of her boots singed with a line that was smoldering. While her focus was down, she braced herself and her knees bent.

“You kriffing bitch!”

“Shut. Up.” You punctuated your words with swiped of the glowing blade to cut her belt from her. You kicked it away, standing unnervingly close to her and peering over at her with a glare. The pulsing energy from the saber lighting up your eyes to show her that you were so far beyond reasoning with. She lunged at your legs with a screech, but you flicked out a hand and she flew back a few yards.

She struggled but once her balance was her own, she was back up on her feet and jolted forward. The blade hummed as you moved against her, the singing of her shoulder pulling a guttural noise from deep in her chest and she ducked before crashing her body into your legs, causing you both to tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The handle of your weapon flying out of your hand and clattering into the wall. The blade disengaged, but not before it cut a swipe into the metal.

Your back hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of your lungs and you gasped. Vision blurring but you reached out and gripped the back of the headwear she wore. Jerking her back, you flipped to pin her face down. She groaned out, body sore from the rough motion. Her breath catching in her throat when you realized you had made good on your threat, back on the space station. One of her knives was gripped tight in your hand, held beneath her chin, blade chilling her skin where it pressed.

She used the hand that wasn’t pinned underneath her body to dig her fingers into the cut at your thigh, pulling a strangled grunt. You leaned back on your heels, trying to move far enough back that her hand fell away from you, bloodied and dripping. You panted as she twisted underneath you and shoved at your shoulders. Just as your back hit the ground a second time and she hovered over you, her legs pinning you down harshly. Crying out at the sting of a blade embedded in your shoulder. She forced it with both of her hands, digging it impossibly deep into the muscle.

You heard Din call out, could see him try to close the space between your two scrambling forms and his own.

Your other hand shot out, reaching out and the saber handle zoomed across the floor toward you. Past Din who was splashed red with dark blood.

Xi’an screeched at you as she tried to get a hold on your hair to slam your head into the ground.

But the second it was in your grip, you engaged it.

Everything fell silent save for the humming of it.

Errant blood escaping from the puncture bubbled and fizzled, rank smelling steam bursting into the air between you both. Her body fell limp above you, her middle catching on the hilt of the blade and she hung only slightly above you, unconscious. Shoving her from you and powering the weapon down, you scrambled up to your feet. You looked over her toward Din, seeing him holding a wide hand hard against his leg.

“Is she…?”

“No, I didn’t hit any major organs. She’ll need medical attention soon though, to avoid going comatose.”

“You need medical attention too, that’s a lot of blood.” You looked up from the splatter of it on the floor, up the expanse of his leg where it stained his trousers, to the dark visor of the helmet. Ripping the bottom of his cape off, you fastened it into a tourniquet around his thigh. He grunted as you tightened the knot around his muscle, wanting to ensure he didn’t bleed out.

He told you of his plan to leave them here, lock them in an empty cell to be found by those coming to the ships call for aid in the face of danger. To be caught and held responsible for their crimes.

“Qin” Din’s voice boomed across the hallway, the suddenness of him speaking since falling silent while set to the task of gathering the others into the very cell they had locked him inside. He motioned for you to stay back as he rounded a corner, his ripped cape swirling behind him as he calmly approached the man whose rescue this was all about.

“You killed the others.”

“They got what they deserved.”

The sound of an upset snarl was followed by the clicking of two blasters being drawn. Your heart stuttered, but you knew that Din had the situation under control.

“You kill me, you don’t get your money. Whatever Ran promised, I’ll make sure you get it, and more.” An argument of the most logical approach, knowing that he was overpowered and at a disadvantage. “Come on, Mando. Be reasonable.”

The clunk of a blaster being tossed to the floor calmed you a bit, your nerves loosening as you realized this was going to go easier than expected. Seems like the man knew all too well the capabilities Din possessed, perhaps someone else he had worked with in the past and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Reading the room and how upset he must be with how things turned out, with how quickly they had fallen into chaos.

“You were hired to do a job, right? So do it. Isn’t that your code? Aren’t you a man of honor?”

Unnerving laughter filled the air, making the hair on the back of your neck rise up.

But Din remained silent, unwavering, intimidating in his lack of engagement. You had experienced it firsthand, and it was easy to give into the stoic figure he made in his armor, the black stare of the visor as his helmet trained your every move.

“Board.” Was all he said, a hand signaling you to fall into step behind him.

“You’ve got yourself a little shadow, now that’s something new.” The twi’lek commented before he began to climb the ladder up into the Crest.

“Don’t engage with her, she took down Xi’an and she won’t hesitate to do the same with you.” An impressed sound hummed from him as he settled at the makeshift table. Eyes moving about the space to take in the environment, sus out any hidden threats or people lingering from the crew that had been assembled to come to his rescue. As comfortable as he could manage, he ignored Din’s warning and spoke directly to you the second the man was out of earshot, having moved up into the cockpit to get the ship in motion.

“What’s a pretty little thing doing with a big bad man like Mando?” He smirked at you, eyes roving over your figure in a way that made your skin crawl.

At your silence and scrutinizing gaze, he looked you over. From the ripped fabric of your trousers to the braid of your hair, over the entire length of your body. You didn’t show the discomfort at his roaming eyes, simply taking it in stride. Knowing that if he were to try anything, you wouldn’t be reprimanded for retaliation.

“You know, I never expected Mando to be so free with his space. My sister tried for years to get him to let her stay aboard this hunk of junk he calls a ship. Always met on his terms, never giving anything more than he was willing to, even if she pushed.”

“But you, you’re different. I can sense it. I see things he has no relation to scattered around the ship. Your mark on his space, it means a great deal whether you realize it or not. But he’s a selfish man, and he’ll make that known to you sooner or later.”

You didn’t engage, only spared a glance over at him when you readied yourself a serving of the tea given to you by the clinic. The painkillers they provided you with had been doing a good job of staving off the cramping in your middle, but nausea and a gnawing feeling in your stomach prevailed.

You turned to face him, stilling as you took in the defeated air about him. He had his freedom, he had his life back after having been caught, but he didn’t look happy. He lacked something that didn’t light his eyes through all the way, and you felt bad for him. He may not be the best person, but you could see that something was missing and he felt the space whatever it was left in its wake. He was watching you, his eyes trained on the way you picked him apart at the very seams. Calculating how he displays himself versus the things you see in him that he does not.

He shifts in his seat, anxiety at your scrutiny given voice.

“I’m selfish too.” You said before ascending the ladder and leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

“You keep that little shadow of yours close, no tellin’ the attention she’s garnered from being at your side.” Ran chimed after Din, aiming the thinly veiled threat at the man’s back. Turning to face down the ramp, hand hovering over the panel that controlled it, Din took notice of how the man was gazing up toward the windows of the control room. A glint to them that unsettled him, like you were something to own and control, to be used to get back at him.

He was silent as he boarded the ship once again, guiding it into flight immediately. Ships beamed in from hyperspace around you, focus on the space station none the wiser behind the Crest.

“Hey, I have a question.” You announced, securely seated behind the man as he directed the ship into hyperspace. The controls beeping and toggles switching underneath Din’s hands as he controlled the ship and set a course. He made a low hum, to let you know that he heard you and was waiting for your next words.

“What do you want me to call you around other people?”

“Mando is fine.”

“That makes me uncomfortable. It’s informal, it’s on the cusp of an insult, to associate you only with what you’re known as. You’re much more than that.”

“I don’t see it that way, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it that way.” He was quiet for a beat, chair turning back around as you walked up beside him. Emotions flitted across your face and you frowned when he turned back toward the control panel. You watched as he punched in coordinates from within his mind, a system of planets further out from the mid rim popping up on the screen. His fingers hovered as he slowly panned across the options displayed in front of him, thoughtful. “What did you call Akiz?”

“Cabur, kebiin, nuhunla jag.” You reached for his shoulder, palm going over the pauldron in a caressing motion. Thoughts and memories pulling you back into the past.

Protector, blue, funny man.

“And what did he call you?”

“Kih goran. Mir’sheb. Ner kar’ta.”

Little blacksmith. Smartass. My heart.

“I’ll respond to whatever you choose to call me, mesh’la.”

“Why…um, why…do you call me that?”

“Because you are.”

His visor turned to you, and you felt a pull toward him but took a step back instead. Overwhelmed by the honesty in his voice, the sincerity with which he shared his reasoning with you.

“O-oh, okay.” You could feel heat rising up the column of your neck, surely visible to the man seated in front of you. A way for him to know that his words had an effect on you.

“She was a youthful indiscretion.” He broached the silence of you tending to the cuts he sustained. The one on his thigh had been quickly tied off but now needed proper attention. He had removed the armor fastened about his legs while he waited for you to change and return to the hold. His boots were inside his quarters, not wanting them to get jostled about in the open space of the hold. He wasn’t sure where ad’ika had gone to, but nothing was clanging nor was he making noises like he needed something. He may have followed you up to your room, curious as to what you stored in there along with the pull of your larger cot with softer blankets.

“I believe…that she was once something you wanted so you sought it out.” Your attention was focused on the contents of the first aid kit Din typically kept inside the weapons locker. It was laid out on the floor beside you, some wrappings already torn into and pressed to your own injuries.

“But, seeing how she is and everything insinuated, it was all fast and rough and passionate. And whether the attraction deteriorated over time and taken over by disdain, there was feeling there.”

He was quiet as he watched the way you carefully wiped the wound free of blood splatter that had stained the skin. Gentle fingers applying bacta cream to the wound, trying not to irritate it, before wrapping gauze around the diameter of his thigh. Cutting off the roll and knotting the end of it to keep it secure but not too uncomfortable or damaging, your hands stilled on him.

“There was, it was fleeting. More about the…familiarity we had with each other than anything beyond general attraction.”

“But you sought her out, time and time again.”

“Only while working with the group, the second I left, I ceased it all.”

“But it was, wasn’t it? Rough and about power, to see who could overpower the other and take pride in the ability to bring each other down in such a way.” That was what had bothered you so much about seeing them interact with each other. The way she tried to overpower him, the way that he let her attempt to with no reaction. Knowing that if he were to show a reaction, even small as one could be, it would be like giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had succeeded in getting under his skin.

“That…was a big part of it, yes.” He admitted, after a few bated breaths.

“I may never be able to give that to you, that type of dynamic.” You admitted softly, feeling self-conscious for the umpteenth time since first stepping aboard that lone space station. Din’s past lying in wait to take you both off guard in the most unexpected of ways.

“I’m not asking that of you.”

“But you liked it, obviously. It was intense enough for her to linger on the interactions, to feel cheated by your disappearance.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating the route of the conversation. Trying to hold your emotions in check, your own inner turmoil at the subject matter in order to show him and yourself that it was normal to talk about these things, to discuss these things with those you wanted to be with.

“San, please look at me.”

“Din, you-I may not ever be able to be that willing, to give over control completely.”

“I’m not asking to take control; I’m not asking anything of you. It’s- that’s not what I’m-I’ve changed. This, what we’re doing- It’s all on your terms, your comfortability, your willingness. Whatever you want to give me will be enough, even if it’s nothing at all.”

“You-you would really be okay if I were to not want to explore that with you?”

“Y-yes, mesh’la, of course.” He stuttered as you stood up from where you were kneeling by his feet, where you had lowered yourself to tend to his injuries. Not breaking your focus from the helmet tilted down at you, something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. His visor was trained on you as you stepped into the space between his thighs, hands resting atop his shoulders, fingers spreading along the cowl that covered his neck. Words seemed to flee him as he could only sit there and feel you untangle the fabric from around his body, folding it carefully and setting it on the makeshift table off to the side.

You paused, bottom lip between teeth as you thought something over. You felt like you were out of your element, unprepared for the yearning and heat that had suddenly taken over. Filling the space between every nerve and nestling right behind your ribs with a weight you were sure you couldn’t shake even if the desire to do so crossed your mind. Looking over at him, right into the dark line of his visor, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“But what if I wanted to?”

The weight of your words hung in the silence between your bodies.

“Th-then we would go at your pace, as I said before.”

His hands remained balled at his sides as you began to unclasp the securing mechanism on his cuirass. As soon as the first one was undone, one of his reached up to hold the panel of armor in place. Your hands focused on removing the back panel he wore when the second clasp over his opposing shoulder was loosened. With a soft reverence, you set the panel down atop his cowl, to avoid it potentially scratching on the material of the crate. Hands trailing over the one he held to his chest, you took the weight of the cuirass from him and stacked it atop the other.

Before he could lower his hands back to his sides, you loosened elastic bands that held the armor plates over his forearms. Slipping them over his hands, and then removing his gloves with the same focused attention. You fiddled with his hands for a second, tangling your fingers with his own, the contact sparking heat as you recalled how efficient he had been fighting with Xi’an, with stalking and intimidating Mayfeld, the tense conversation with Qin. The hands so softly brushing against your own were capable of so much, of such strong and powerful things. And yet, they yielded so easily to your own, he allowed you to touch him, to disrobe him, to see him. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

The padding he wore underneath was warm from the heat of his body, the velcro snicking loudly in the quiet of the hold. The sound sparking warmth low in your middle, the fact that he was letting you disrobe him of his armor, an intimate thing for someone of his beliefs, was not lost on you. You guided his hands to your body, resting them on the flare of your hips. His hands curled around them, holding to where you let him touch. Fingers digging into the material of your trousers and the belt loops around your waist.

The pair of pauldrons were the next to be carefully removed. You stepped closer into his space, his legs spreading to accommodate you and you felt the sparks reach up into your sternum. A stuttering gasp fell from your lips when you felt the twitch of him where the front of your thighs pressed into the inner most part of his own.

“S-sorry.”

You leaned down, hands hooking over the broadness of his shoulders. Running the tip of your nose along the exposed skin of his throat, down to where it connected with his collarbone. Placing a chaste kiss there, you let your lips brush against him softly as you spoke.

“It’s okay, I want to feel you.” He twitched again and the sparks bloomed into a simmering heat. “If you’d let me.”

Whatever answer he was about to speak died in his throat as you reached for his belt, the buckle clinking and effectively shutting his thoughts down. Loosening the belt, you untucked the long sleeve he had on, exposing his toned upper body. His shoulders and chest were broad even without the protection of his prized armor. The cut from one of Xi’an’s knives was red and irritated, you were thankful she didn’t douse them in anything before hurling them. The skin around it was splattered with a bit of dried blood and you reached for the cloth once again to wipe it away.

Chest adorned with dark hair that you ran a hand over in a petting motion. He twitched against your upper thigh, and you looked down to see the outline of him through the fabric. Feeling the way he was practically throbbing at your attention, you reached a hand down and were about to caress him when one of his hands stopped you.

“Don’t want you feeling like you have to, just because of what happened. Or to…prove something.”

You shook your head, letting him know that’s not what was fueling your attention. Hands resting firmly on his chest, bare skin on bare skin you looked right into the visor.

“I want to. I-I may have been thinking about it the past few days. But seeing how quickly things can fall apart, I want to know you in this way, to show you that I care about you in this way.”

He nodded once, listening to you, believing the earnest words you spoke to him. You reached down to rid yourself of the tank top that was stained with your own blood. The fabric hushing as it moved over the bacta patch in your shoulder. As soon as the clothing was added to the pile of his armor, his hands were on you, pulling you tight to him. You gasped at the press of your nearly naked front to his, heat simmering into something almost overwhelming, nerves lighting up.

He surged up, arms holding you to him underneath your thighs. Tightening your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, he made sure you were secure before he walked you over to his quarters.

“Is he-“

“He’s in my room, wanted to see the lights through the small window.”

“Good,” He rumbled as he gently laid you down atop the cot, taking in the way you looked in just your bandeau wrapping and sleep shorts. Soft, tan skin on display for him. The dark smattering of his chest hair, the hair that trailed below his belly button and down beneath the band of his underwear. His hips bones visible, his stomach a little soft, his muscles strong and defined. It made you feel honored that he would share his body with you, allow you to see him in his purest form.

You reached for him, tugging him into the space between your legs by the belt loops of his trousers, knees dangling over the edge of the cot.

“Not everything.” You whispered, tone lifting at the end in a hesitant question. Self-conscious of the bleeding that had been slowing, body still adjusting to a natural rhythm of hormonal changes after so long. Afraid of moving too fast, of being too much, of not being enough. Wanting him despite the trepidation of this being the first time you were sharing yourself with a man in this way, given the choice to.

His fingers deftly worked the buttons and shimmied the clothing down his legs, revealing the toned muscles that had only been glimpsed at through the cut in them. He was beautiful, a pillar of strength and skill, the build of him telling of his training and lifestyle. The bulge of him against the black fabric of his boxer briefs was obvious and your eyes stayed trained on it. He looked so big and you wanted to feel him against you. Kicking your shorts from where you had removed them from your hips, you pulled him down onto the cot.

His visor was aimed at the damp spot darkening the light fabric of your underwear.

“Mesh’la-“

He groaned, words drowned out by the sound as you hooked your legs around his waist and ground up into him. His hands supported himself on either side of you, hovering over you in the small space, as his body folded over you.

He rutted against you, body taking over as the heat of you so close was all he could feel paired with the softness of your skin. The dim lights in the personal quarters bathing you in an ethereal glow. You keened as the heft of him moved against you, the hardness between his legs making desperation form low in your middle. You gasped, head tossing back with his slow movements, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that shot straight down to your core. Slick seeped into the fabric of your underwear, and your hands shot out to hold him tight to ground yourself. The action pushed your chest together, breasts jiggling with his motions as the thin fabric of your bandeau did nothing to hide the perk nipples that shown through.

The tip of his cock caught on the hood of your cunt, the pressure spinning your head despite the thin layers that separated you. The feeling of him hot and hard against your aching clit pulled a throaty grunt from you, fingers curling into the muscles of his arms, nails digging into his skin. The front of his helmet thudded against your forehead, drawing your eyes to the visor so close. You wish you could see into it, through it, the way his eyes had to be blown out. You wondered what color they were, not for the first time, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as pleasure tingled all over.

“Good, mesh’la,” He panted, modulator crackling with his heavy breaths. Your hips bucked as he ground into you, body spurred on by the need to feel him even closer. But not yet, it would be too much too soon. One of his hands hovered over your chest, fingers reaching but pausing as if he was unsure if he was allowed to touch. “You feel so good.”

“Please touch me,” You arched your back, pushing your chest up to where his hand hovered. When his palm cupped one of your breasts, a moan tore from your throat at the sensation. Your hips lifted instinctively, seeking him out for more more more. You breath quickened as your stomach pulled taut, so close to the edge. It was overwhelming in the best way, the pleasure sparking steadily between the feeling of him rutting between your legs, the way his thumb brushed over your nipple as he palmed your breast. He was everywhere.

“Din, please,” Your eyes watered, the sensations all consuming. He pressed closer to you, hips undulating as he chased his own pleasure. He stilled his hips and ground against you, nudging that little bundle of nerves just right. Muscled tightening, back arching, legs caging him in as close as possible, you tried to tell him, let him know how good he felt when your release washed over your senses like hot water.

The keening sound that fell from your lips trailed off into a whimper as he thrusted against your slick covered underwear, guiding you through your orgasm. His hand at your chest flew to support himself once again, not able to keep up as his own release began to bear down on him. Once, twice, three more times before you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his own release as it collected at the front of his own underwear where he was pressed against you. Moaning your name, long and low, it would simmer in your mind for days.

He panted against you, chests bumping as you breathed heavily and looked up at him with blissed out eyes and an expression so soft that his heart skipped a beat where it thudded against his ribcage.

Gasping as he lifted his hips away from where they pressed against you, little aftershocks of pleasure rippled over your body. Hands reaching, you pulled the ruined underwear from around your hips and shimmied them off. Din’s helmet immediately turned as he didn’t want to overstep eliciting a soft laugh from you as he took the fabric you shoved against his hand dangling at his side as he stood.

When he went to step away, your expression fell. He must’ve sensed the shift in the air, the hesitancy and nervousness for his departure so soon after such an intimate moment.

“Just gonna go clean up, get you something to change into. Please don’t worry, mesh’la.”

Moments later, he returned to the dark quarters. You had pulled the covers back atop the cot and turned the lights off, getting the space ready for sleep. He skimmed his warm palms up the length of your exposed legs, a damp washcloth in warm against you as he gently wiped away your drying release from between your legs. The fabric of the cloth right against your clit in a brief pass had you gasping out, and he chuckled lowly. He swapped out the cloth for a pair of new underwear in his grip. He tapped the side of your thighs for you to lift your hips and he settled them on you.

Getting situated underneath the covers took a little shifting as you both tried to lay in a way that irritate new injuries. He ended up on his back, not able to lay side by side with you as both your thighs were bandaged opposite each other. You folded yourself over his chest, head resting in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, injured leg thrown over his middle. His heart was beating fast beneath you, and you buried your face into his skin and breathed in deep.

Content, safe, satiated. Everything felt right with the world in that moment.

“I’ve never removed it be with her, I never removed anything.” He spoke quietly into the darkness, his hand gently caressing your hip, not wanting to wake you lest you had fallen asleep. His body was alight with tingles, energy ebbing and flowing over his skin from the realization of what you two had just shared. It had been the most intimate he had ever been with anyone, had ever wanted to be with anyone.

The hum that vibrated into his skin was all the answer he got as sleep pulled him under to rest alongside you.

You stared. Unabashedly.

Maker, you couldn’t help it. You like to think of yourself as having self-control and a good sense of strength but… you were realizing how false those notions were as your eyes remained trained on the sight in front of you. Din was kneeling on the ground in front of an open panel along the floor of the hold. He was leaning slightly into the exposed space, his back arched slightly and his backside suspended in the air. The fabric of his pants was pulled taut over his form in such a way that you couldn’t even begin to decipher the mumbled words falling from the man’s mouth as he fiddled with something.

Desire flared strong in your middle, stretching down to pool between your legs and you felt your mouth go dry. He shifted slightly, leaning forward a bit more and his backside canted up just enough for you to see the barest outline of-

“San!” He called out, making you jump and scramble to look like you were busy. You took a few hurried, quiet steps toward where the crate that doubled as a table was set up and began to gather the mess from yours and adi’ka’s lunch. You didn’t dare turn around, listening intently to the hush of his movements as he extracted himself from the space he had been leaning into behind the paneling.

“San, I was calling for you, didn’t you hear me?” He was suddenly behind you, making you jump slightly.

You were still flushed, which drew his attention to your face.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” You replied simply, not able to face him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Concern flowed from him, his words soft but holding a tone that booked no argument. Wanting to know if you were alright, for you to be honest with him. You worried for a second if he thought you were having regrets about the night before, but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that, that had been…wonderful and so enticing. He had been so warm, throbbing against you where you needed him the most, his hands and the sounds bleeding from the helmet as he moved against you…

“San, why you won’t look at me?”

You turned before the words even registered completely, pinning look and desperate eyes on display for him. Unable to hide that you wanted him, even if it was still new. For both of you, a tentative bridge formed between you that you wanted to explore further.

“That’s what’s wrong with me, I was watching you while you were crouching and it- you looked, you looked good okay.” One of the cannisters fell from your grip, nervous energy lighting you up.

He was suddenly in your personal space, you back pressed up against the siding of the hold space. But you didn’t feel threatened, you felt excited. Pulled into his front by a hand snaking around your middle, you looked up at him, the visor glinting in the lights turned on all around.

“You’ve been watching me this whole time?” He rumbled, voice dark as he realized you weren’t injured or sick. That you were turned on, just by looking at him as he did the most mundane things to fill the time of space travel.

“Y-yes, you-you fill out your pants very well.”

“Hmm, never realized.” He tilted his helmet to the side, thoughts swirling around your mind stalling at the adorable motion.

He leaned in, as if he was about to press the front of his helmet to your forehead but he detangled from you instead and was rummaging through an open crate that contained his multitude of tools. You stayed where he had ushered you, body thrumming with the lingering heat of how he had been on you in seconds, of your confession.

“He’s watching, don’t want to scar him.” Din said by way of explanation as he nodded his head toward the open quarters. Adi’ka was in his hammock, head poking out of it and peering at you curiously.

“Din Djarin, you tease!” You tried to hide the smile pulling at your lips, but you knew it was a futile attempt. His chuckle and your light laughter urged adi’ka to giggle his own amusement.

“Ni mirdir vi ru'kir nuhoy o'r te oriya.” You looked over at him briefly, fingers skimming over the tools laid out for sale atop a table, attention captured by the environment that reminded you of the good parts of your childhood. Working on something that interested you, spurred on by the kind and encouraging words of your mother who hadn’t yet turned on you.

I think we should sleep in the city.

“Vi ganar te Crest.”

We have the Crest.

“Vi ganar a prudii, par jaon Tuur'ika jii. Liser’t copad at alorir bic norac.”

We’ve had a shadow, for over an hour now. Don’t want to lead them back.”

“Ni kar’taylir.”

I know.

“Vi ru'kir ve'ganir a yamika, nayc? Hiibir baatir be te prudii. Dinui at jor'adir. A pel haav, nadala skraan, a holo net, nadala pirun…”

We should book a room. To shake off the shadow. A reward to celebrate. Soft bed, fresh food, a holo net, a hot bath…

“Nadala pirun?” Something simmered behind his words, the hint of a promise in yours stirring something in him. The glint in your eye as you successfully negotiated what you wanted, as if he had been willing to turn you down after asking after it. He would give you anything you asked for, you were discovering, as long as it was within reason. Wanting for you to be comfortable and feel like yourself in any way. You were grateful for all that he offered you, for the chance to discover yourself after so long, and who could argue with a night spent in a fancy hotel?

“One with a lot of bubbles and water so hot it steams up the entire fresher.” You finally turned your attention to him, switching back to speaking in Basic, a pair of goggles in your hand. “Maybe I’ll let you join me.”

Walking away from him and back to where the vendor had appeared from the back, leaving him to his thoughts of your offer.

He was unnervingly still the rest of the time spent in the shop, keeping a healthy distance as you talked to the discussed what the pieces you provided were worth, the materials they were made from, the techniques used to create them, all to help him gauge what he could sell them for. He agreed to give you a handsome sum for the pieces you were selling, enough to make you internally question how long it had been since he’d been able to offer this kind of work.

“If you’re ever back this way, don’t hesitate to drop by. My partner and I would be willing to buy whatever you have, the craftsman ship is exquisite, truly.”

You both left the shop, walking side by side through the bustling street, full of people in the midday hour.

“How much did he offer you?”

“Oh, like four thousand per piece? Which is pretty high considering most plated armor goes for about six for a full set, but he liked that it was handmade, the quality of the metal. He really liked the stitching pattern I used to give the pieces more durability that will enhance the longevity of them.”

“I’ve been in the wrong line of work then.”

“Nonsense, how much do you average for a job?”

“Depends on the risk. More often than not, like back on Sorgan, what is offered is enough and then shelter and food are appreciated. Not particular about rates or standards, but the Guild would offer one to two thousand for intermediate quarries.”

“How very admirable of you, burc’ya.”

Friend.

That’s what he was, to you. Perhaps it was a tame way of describing his place in your life. But it was a start, it was comfortable. Being around him, getting to know the intimate parts of each other’s lives, sharing parts of yourselves with each other that no one else knew of. A bond that was growing with each passing day.

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Text

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Six – Obliterazione Delle Anime}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

words:

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter contains dark, sadistic, disturbing, and triggering scenes with detailed, graphic descriptions. A warning has been placed at the beginning of the triggering content.⚠️

TRANSLATION

obliterazione delle anime: obliteration of souls

Sono il tuo nemico dall'inferno: I'm your enemy from hell

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

Heaven's POV

I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding loudly in my chest as I witnessed the scene unfold before my eyes. Jungkook, my beloved Panther hybrid, lay on the ground writhing in pain, blood seeping from the wound on his stomach.

The sight was like a stab to my own heart, rendering me immobile as I grappled with the overwhelming fear and anguish that gripped me. The sound of his growls filled the air, a haunting reminder of his suffering.

I felt a surge of emotions welling up inside me, a mix of helplessness, anger, and a deep sense of connection to Jungkook. It was as if his pain had become my own, urging me to act, to alleviate his suffering in any way possible. I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away from him, until a sudden embrace broke through my trance.

A deep, familiar voice called out my name, jolting me back to reality. With a start, I dashed to Jungkook's side, pushing aside the shock of the momentary distraction. I knelt beside him, my voice trembling with emotion as I pleaded with him to stay awake, to fight against the darkness that threatened to engulf him.

"Jungkook, please, look at me. Stay with me," I implored, my voice thick with tears. "I won't let anything happen to you. Just hold on, please."

Desperation laced my words as I called out for help, my voice cracking with the intensity of my emotions. I sought aid from those around me, their names tumbling from my lips in a frantic plea for assistance. The panic and fear that clawed at my heart threatened to overwhelm me as Jungkook's eyelids drooped, his breathing slowing.

"No, Jungkook, don't close your eyes," I cried out, my voice breaking with the weight of the moment. "Please, stay with me. Namjoon, Yoongi, anyone, help him!”

I was in the midst of a heated battle, but my focus was solely on protecting Jungkook and ensuring the safety of my hybrids. It was chaos all around, but I remained calm and collected as I gave orders to my men. Sending one to escort Jungkook to safety through the back door, with the hybrids trailing behind us.

"Jay, see to it that we have a car ready immediately. Your job is to ensure the safe extraction of the hybrids and take down Black Eagle and his crew. Stick to the original plan and I'll handle them myself later," I instructed over the earpiece, my voice firm and determined.

"Got it, Miss Valentino. I'll see to it that everything goes smoothly," Jay responded promptly. I acknowledged his commitment, even though he couldn't see me, and ended the call. Jungkook's well-being was my top priority at this moment.

Black Eagle had crossed a line by targeting my hybrids. I may be indifferent to personal threats, but when it comes to my family, vengeance knows no bounds. I vowed to make Black Eagle regret ever laying a finger on my hybrids. His actions had sealed his fate, and I would ensure he paid dearly for his transgressions. As Heaven Valentino, I would rain down retribution like never before seen.

As we made our way through the chaos, determination burned in my eyes. Nothing would stop me from protecting those under my care. With each step, my resolve hardened, and thoughts of vengeance fueled my every move. Black Eagle had awoken a fierce storm within me, and he would soon witness its full fury.

3rd Person's POV

As Heaven and her hybrids dashed towards the car, Jungkook's consciousness flickered on and off like a faulty light bulb.

With the group securely inside, the engine roared to life as the vehicle sped off.

Heaven wasted no time in taking charge, her voice firm but filled with concern. "Take us to my uncle's hybrid center right now," she directed the driver.

As they raced through the streets, Heaven began delegating tasks to her hybrids, "Namjoon, keep pressure on his wound, but don't press too hard. Jimin, pass me the rag from the door pockets. Jin, give me the water bottle," she instructed briskly.

The urgency in her voice was matched by the swift actions of her hybrids, each stepping up without hesitation. Namjoon applied pressure to Jungkook's wound, Jimin handed over the rag, and Jin passed her the water bottle.

Heaven soaked the rag in water and gently wiped Jungkook's forehead, soothing away the beads of sweat that had gathered there. The hybrids observed in silence, their hearts swelling with admiration for their owner’s unwavering care for their injured brother.

Once she had cleaned his face, Heaven tenderly cradled Jungkook's head in her lap, her fingers running through his hair in a soothing gesture. A melody escaped her lips, a soft and sweet tune that seemed to lull the tense atmosphere in the car.

The hybrids watched on, captivated by the scene unfolding before them. In that moment, a unique bond formed between them, and bound them together in a shared concern for Jungkook's well-being.

As the car raced towards their destination, the silence was broken only by the hum of the engine and the gentle melody that Heaven continued to hum.

~3 Hours Later~

As they entered the bustling hybrid facility, the strong scent of antiseptic hit their nostrils, mixed with the lingering odor of fur and earth. The guard, recognizing Heaven, rushed over in concern, his eyes widening at the sight of her blood-stained clothes.

"Heaven, what brings you here- oh my goodness, what happened to you?" he exclaimed in shock, his wrinkled face contorted with worry.

With a sense of urgency, Heaven wasted no time in issuing commands to the older man.

"Ellie, quick! Get the nurses. My Hybrid, Jungkook, has been shot. We need medical help right away!" Her voice was firm and unwavering, a sense of panic peeking through her composed facade.

Ellie, though slightly confused, nodded and darted off to fetch the necessary help. Within moments, a team of nurses came rushing out of the building, a stretcher in tow, their faces etched with concern and readiness.

As they attempted to lift Jungkook onto the stretcher, low growls reverberated through the air, emanating from the other hybrids present. Tension hung thick in the space, the boys wary of unfamiliar hands approaching their injured packmate.

"Calm down, it's okay. They are here to help Jungkook," Heaven spoke soothingly, trying to reassure the agitated hybrids.

"You can trust them, trust me." Her voice carried a sense of authority and compassion, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around them.

Reluctantly, the other hybrids stood down, allowing the nurses to carefully lift Jungkook onto the stretcher and transport him inside the facility for medical attention. Heaven gestured for the group to follow, a silent invitation into the heart of the hybrid facility where secrets and healing intertwined.

Inside, the sterile corridors echoed with the hushed footsteps of hybrids and humans alike. The nurses swiftly wheeled Jungkook into a designated medical bay, taking charge of his care with practiced efficiency. Heaven stood by his side, her gaze unwavering as she watched over him with fierce protectiveness.

The rest of the group hovered anxiously, their expressions a mix of worry and anticipation. They had entered a world unknown to them, a place where hybrid lives hung in delicate balance, and healing was a delicate dance between trust and time.

Hoseok's POV

The tension in the air is thick, suffocating almost, making my chest feel heavy as we wait outside the emergency room. It feels like time has slowed down to a crawl, each minute dragging on forever.

I can't help but worry about Jungkook, my baby brother, even though he's not so little anymore. He's always been the baby of the group, and even though he's strong and capable, that protective instinct in me kicks in every time he's in trouble.

I glance around at the others, my friends who are just as anxious and afraid as I am. Heaven, our new owner, looks particularly shaken. She's been nothing but kind and caring since she bought us, and seeing her so distressed breaks my heart.

Her usual comforting scent of lavender and baby powder has turned bitter, a stark contrast to her usual calming presence. It's like a storm brewing inside her, and I can feel the tension radiating off her.

As I move closer to her, I can see the pain in her eyes, the unshed tears threatening to spill over. She's trying to be strong, to hold it all together, but I can see the cracks in her facade.

I reach out a hand to her shoulder, offering what little comfort I can. She startles at my touch, her eyes locking onto mine, searching for something. I know what she's looking for – reassurance, hope that everything will be okay.

I meet her gaze, trying to convey my silent support. I want her to know that we're all in this together, that we'll get through this as a team. Jungkook will be okay, we'll make sure of it.

As I knelt before her, gently caressing her cheeks, I couldn't help but get lost in the depths of her mesmerizing ocean blue-green eyes that seemed to have darkened with worry, giving them a grey hue.

"Everything will be okay, Jungkook will be fine. He's strong, you know that. Nothing bad can happen to him," I whispered, trying to reassure her in the midst of her distress.

Her defenses crumbled, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed uncontrollably, seeking solace in my embrace. It caught me off guard for a moment, but I quickly gathered myself and enveloped her in a warm hug, holding her close to me.

Her body shook with the intensity of her sobs, all the emotions she had been holding back now pouring out like a dam breaking.

"You're okay, you're fine. He's fine. We're all fine," I murmured, trying to provide whatever comfort I could as she clung to me tightly.

In that moment, something shifted within me. A fierce protectiveness welled up, a determination to shield her from any harm and to fiercely guard her against any threat.

I couldn't stand to see tears in her eyes, the thought alone unbearable. We stayed embraced for what felt like forever, and I noticed her eventually calming down, her breathing evening out as she drifted off to sleep.

My heart ached seeing her so drained. Carefully, I lifted her in my arms, settling her on my lap as she stirred in protest at the movement. I gently made her straddle me, allowing her to nuzzle into my chest for comfort.

A soft kiss on her forehead, and a soothing stroke of her hair seemed to bring her a sense of peace, her sigh of contentment echoing in the room.

"I'll protect you with everything I have, even if it means losing my life," I vowed silently, a fierce determination settling within me.

Seokjin POV

I couldn't help but let out a relieved smile as I gazed at the sight of Hobi and Heaven snuggled up together. The night had been beyond exhausting for all of us, especially with Jungkook's health hanging in the balance. The ominous silence from the doctor was suffocating, leaving us all on edge.

Leaning against the wall, lost in my thoughts, the sudden change of the emergency room's red light to green jolted me back to attention. Without skipping a beat, I straightened up and made my way towards the approaching doctor, with everyone else gathering around me in anticipation.

My heart pounding, I managed to voice my concern, “Doctor, how is my brother doing?” The tension in the air was palpable as we awaited his response.

The doctor's warm smile instantly put me at ease as he began to speak,

“He is fine. Everything went smoothly. The bullet penetrates deep, but fortunately not deep enough to cause any internal damage that could have been life-threatening. Your quick thinking of applying pressure to the wound helped tremendously in preventing excessive bleeding.” His reassuring words washed over us like a soothing balm.

As he continued, my fears started to dissipate, “Although he did lose some blood, we had blood donors ready for an immediate transfusion. We've administered antibiotics to ease any discomfort, and he should regain consciousness either later tonight or early tomorrow morning. There's no need to worry, your brother is out of danger now.” His explanation was like music to my ears, and I felt a massive weight lift off my shoulders.

A collective sigh of relief swept through all of us, the tension releasing like a taut rubber band snapping back to normal. Knowing that Jungkook was going to be okay was the greatest news we could have hoped for after such a harrowing night. Gratefulness flooded my heart, and I felt a surge of emotions knowing that my brother was safe and on the road to recovery.

It was a nerve-wracking moment when the doctor allowed us to see Jungkook, one at a time. He emphasized not to disturb the patient before gracefully excusing himself from the room. We thanked him wholeheartedly as he left to attend to his other duties.

As we stood there, pondering who should go in first to visit Jungkook, Hobi was the one to break the silence. He suggested that Heaven should be the first one to go in, which we all readily agreed upon. After all, it was because of her quick thinking and actions that Jungkook was still with us today.

The thought of almost losing Jungkook sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for the outcome. I gestured to Hobi to wake up Heaven and share the good news with her. The relief and joy that washed over us in that moment were indescribable.

Heaven's POV

I felt someone lightly shake me, disrupting my peaceful slumber. Groggily, I opened my eyes and was met with the sight of Hobi peering down at me with a huge grin plastered across his face. Confusion clouded my mind as I tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.

“Heaven sweetie, we have good news,” Hobi chirped, his eyes twinkling with excitement. My mind struggled to catch up as I processed his words. Slowly, the pieces from the events of the previous night started to click into place, sending a surge of adrenaline through my veins.

Realization dawned on me, and I bolted upright, disentangling myself from Hobi's embrace as thoughts of Jungkook flooded my mind. Panic gripped my heart as I frantically scanned the room, searching for any sign of my beloved Panther hybrid.

“Where is Jungkook? Is he okay?” I demanded, my voice shaking with fear and urgency. The room fell silent, the air heavy with unspoken words as my mind raced with a million possibilities. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps as I awaited their response.

“Heaven, calm down,” Jin's voice broke through the tense atmosphere, his eyes filled with understanding and reassurance. “Jungkook is safe and sound, resting peacefully. You can go see him now; I'm sure he'll want to see you when he wakes up.”

Relief washed over me in a tidal wave, yet a sliver of doubt lingered in the back of my mind. Could it truly be that Jungkook was unharmed, that my worst fears had not come to pass? With trembling limbs, I allowed Jin to guide me towards Jungkook's room, my heart thudding in my chest with every step.

Stepping into the room, I beheld the sight of my Panther hybrid lying in the hospital bed, his features relaxed in slumber. The worry lines that had etched themselves onto my face softened at the sight of Jungkook's peaceful expression, a calmness settling over me at last.

Striding towards his bedside, I reached out a hand to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, my gaze never leaving his serene face.

In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of tranquility. Jungkook's steady breathing filled the room, a soothing lullaby to my anxious soul. I watched over him, a silent guardian, grateful beyond words that he was safe and sound.

I carefully moved closer and settled on the stool next to his bed, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his sleeping face. Gently brushing his hair with my fingers, I tried not to disturb his peaceful rest.

"You really scared me earlier, you know," I admitted, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"When you started drifting in and out of consciousness, I was terrified. I held on to the hope that you would wake up, that you would demand more food, or ask for cuddles, or want to play games, or even just complain about the other guys bothering you, anything to let me know you were okay."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I poured my heart out to him, even though he couldn't hear me.

"Don't ever do something like that again," I scolded softly, the tears now flowing freely.

"I know why you got shot, you know. You jumped in front of me to protect me. That bullet wasn't meant for you, it was meant for me. But you took it without a second thought. You had no reason to do that. What if something had happened to you? I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you." My grip on his hand tightened as I confessed my fears to the unconscious Jungkook.

"It's amazing how quickly you and the guys have become so important to me in such a short amount of time," I continued, my voice breaking with emotion.

"I'd do anything to keep you all safe, to give you the happiness and security you all deserve." Leaning closer to him, I let a solitary tear trace its path down my cheek, the weight of my feelings almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, I felt his hand squeeze mine, and my heart leaped as I turned to look at him. His eyes were open, tears glistening in them as he offered me a warm, grateful smile.

"Thank you for everything, for taking us in, for treating us with love and respect when you had no obligation to," Jungkook's voice, though weak, was filled with sincerity as he raised my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my skin.

I was taken aback by his gesture, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions that surged through me. "No, thank you for coming into my life," I whispered, a sense of gratitude and love engulfing me as I met his gaze, knowing that our bond was something truly special.

3rd Person's POV

In Italian, "obliterazione delle anime" sounded like something out of a horror movie, but for Heaven, it was a mantra for revenge.

Everyone knew not to mess with her, but Black Eagle had crossed a line that even her closest friends didn't dare to tread. She had unleashed something dark and primal inside her, fueled by anger and the need for justice.

After that night, Heaven had made sure her hybrids were safe with her uncle before embarking on her mission. She had always been a one-woman army, but this time, she knew she needed backup.

Her mind was consumed with thoughts of retribution, her heart beating with the anticipation of facing off against Black Eagle. The thirst for vengeance was strong, and she was determined to make him pay for the pain he had caused.

As she plotted her next move, Heaven's eyes glinted with a steely resolve. She was ready to unleash her fury and make sure Black Eagle regretted ever crossing her.

~Unknown Location~

It was a dim lit evening, the moon and stars were shining brightly in the sky, casting a magical glow over the landscape. The gentle breeze of the night carried with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers, while the occasional rustle of leaves and chirping of crickets added to the peaceful ambiance.

In the corner of a luxurious balcony, stood a man cloaked in a black silk robe, a glass of whisky in his hand. He leaned casually against the railing, his gaze fixed on the twinkling stars above. A small, dark smirk played on his lips, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he reflected on the events that transpired just three days ago.

Finally, after years of relentless pursuit, he had uncovered the weakness of Heaven Valentino, the elusive ice queen.

The satisfaction that filled him at that moment was unparalleled, knowing that he held the key to dismantling her carefully constructed facade.

His plan was set into motion as he smirked sinisterly, his mind consumed with dark thoughts of revenge and cruelty. He imagined himself inflicting emotional pain on his target before indulging in his twisted desires of physical dominance. The mere idea of breaking someone down, bit by bit, excited him to no end.

“I will make sure to shatter you, inch by inch. I will start with hurting you emotionally, then keep your body for my sinful guilty pleasures over and over again,” he whispered to himself, his voice laced with malice.

The disturbing images played out in his mind, fueling his twisted fantasies and desires. He reveled in the thought of Heaven's suffering, relishing the idea of her pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as he asserted his power over her.

Just as he was lost in his dark musings, a voice suddenly interrupted his reverie, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Why not feed into your fantasies right now?” the voice taunted from behind him, causing him to whirl around in shock.

His eyes widened in surprise as he beheld the unexpected intruder standing before him, a smirk playing on their lips. The sudden appearance of this person caught him off guard, leaving him speechless and bewildered.

“W-what, how did you get here?” he stammered, his composure wavering in the face of this unforeseen encounter.

The person before him adopted an air of faux sadness, her expression a mask of innocence that belied a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Aren't you happy to see me?” She pouted playfully, teasing him with her cryptic words.

Frustration and confusion simmered within him as he struggled to make sense of the situation. His anger flared at the perceived intrusion, demanding answers from the enigmatic figure who had disrupted his twisted reverie.

“Answer my question, woman!” he barked, his voice tinged with vexation and impatience.

Heaven stood before him, unperturbed by his outburst, reveling in the power play that unfolded between them.

“Oh, that was easy. For someone who has the best team, you undeniably do trust your men an awful lot not to betray you,” She taunted, her words laced with sardonic amusement as she closed the distance between them.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to decipher the cryptic remarks of his unexpected visitor. The insinuation of betrayal among his trusted allies struck a nerve, stirring doubt and suspicion within him.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, his scowl deepening as he sought clarity amidst the shadowy web of intrigue that surrounded them.

His question was met with a knowing smirk from Heaven, her gaze locking with his in a silent challenge. She seemed to take pleasure in pulling back the veils of deception, reveling in the subtle dance of power and revelation that unfolded between them.

“Aww, you poor thing, did you really think I wouldn't be able to find you? Your men are not as smart nor trained as I thought they were. Just a little cock tease, and they'd be at my mercy,” she teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery.

His eyes widened in realization as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, painting a clearer picture of the intricate game that had been played against him. The revelation of his men's vulnerability to manipulation and deceit left him seething with anger and frustration.

“You bloody whore! Just because you have the name of a Saint doesn't make you less of a vile woman. You're right, my men are stupid for thinking with their cocks and not their heads. That is why they will be killed,” he seethed, his anger boiling over as he lashed out in a fit of rage.

His threats fell on deaf ears as she remained unruffled, her demeanor cool and composed in the face of his outburst. She relished in the confrontation, reveling in the power dynamics that played out between them.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you wanted to use me for your 'sinful guilty satisfaction,' where I would scream and beg for mercy,” Heaven taunted, her voice dripping with irony and disdain as she closed the distance between them.

As Heaven moved closer, her proximity sparking an electric tension between them,

“Black Eagle— or should I say Kim Min-Soo,” Heaven revealed his true identity with a smirk, exposing the mask of anonymity he had hidden behind.

The revelation landed like a blow, leaving him reeling as the implications of his true identity being laid bare sank in.

The realization that his carefully constructed facade had been pierced sent a chill down his spine, exposing him to the vulnerability and consequences of his deceit.

“Your plan of acting like some meek little bellboy to get to me was actually pretty clever. Knowing I didn't know of your true identity, coming to personally hand me the invitation with a mask so that I wouldn't know who you are, wow, genius,” Heaven mocked, her words cutting through his defenses with surgical precision.

The power dynamics shifted, with him now standing on shaky ground as Heaven turned the tables on him with a mix of mockery and sardonic amusement.

As he stood face to face with Heaven, the illusion of control and dominance that he had so carefully cultivated crumbled around him, leaving him at the mercy of a force far more formidable than he had anticipated.

In that moment, he realized that his carefully constructed facade had been nothing but a house of cards, ready to collapse at the slightest breath of truth and revelation.

Min-Soo's blood boiled as he gripped her fragile neck between his fingers, her body pressed tightly against his own. The mixture of rage and excitement coursed through him as he spoke, his words laced with a sinister tone.

“Well, well, well, I must say, you get points for managing to track me down. But a delicate flower like you shouldn't be wandering the streets alone. What if some unsavory characters got their hands on you and ruined that precious little cunt of yours, huh, sweetheart?” His words dripped with malice, his breath reeking of alcohol as it washed over her face, making her recoil in disgust.

But she didn't show an ounce of fear as she calmly retorted, her hand teasingly tracing patterns on his bare chest, eliciting a deep growl from him as he clutched her waist possessively.

“Oh, but it seems you've forgotten one crucial detail," she purred, her touch sending shivers down his spine as she ventured lower to where his desire stirred.

His voice was heavy with desire as he leaned in closer, eager for her next words.

“And what might that be?” he breathed against her ear, the anticipation evident in his voice.

She let out a dark chuckle, her voice dripping with malice as she whispered a phrase in Italian, sending a chill down his spine.

"I'm not just any woman, Sono il tuo nemico dall'inferno," she hissed, her words a promise of vengeance that sent a shiver down his spine.

With a sudden burst of strength, she wrenched his hand from her neck and swiftly delivered a powerful blow to his jaw, sending him reeling. As he stumbled backward, she delivered the final blow, a needle piercing his skin and injecting a potent sedative into his veins.

As he crumpled to the ground, unconscious, she stood tall and victorious, a triumphant smirk gracing her lips as she spoke her final words.

“I swore to myself that I would be the one to end you, and now that promise is fulfilled. Goodnight, babe,” she taunted, before turning and disappearing into the night, leaving behind a defeated enemy in her wake.

WARNING: TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD. VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED. ⚠️

~Time Skip~

Min-Soo's POV

I groaned in pain, my face hurt like a bitch as I tried to move, but it felt like my arms and legs were constricted like some straight jacket from a horror movie, huh? It took a moment of confusion before I finally managed to summon the energy to pry my eyes open.

The dim lighting of the room did little to comfort my disorientation, and as my vision adjusted to the surroundings, I realized my body was tied to a chair in the center of the room.

"What the actual fuc-" I started to mutter under my breath before a nauseating voice cut through the silence, causing my heart to skip a beat. The figure emerged from the shadows, her presence sending shivers down my spine.

"Oh, you're awake," she greeted me with a sickly sweet tone that made my skin crawl.

"You think tying me up will stop me?" I scoffed, trying to regain some semblance of bravado in the face of the unknown threat before me. But deep down, I knew I was in deep trouble.

"Oh, don't worry sweetie, I was only making sure you were comfy and rested for what's to come," she replied, her voice laced with a twisted sense of glee that sent chills down my spine.

As if on cue, the room suddenly brightened as additional bulbs illuminated the space, almost blinding me in the process.

My eyes darted around the room, and that's when I saw it - a fresh human dick was nailed to the wall, a macabre display of grotesque art that made bile rise in my throat.

And then, I looked down and horror gripped me like a vice - my own manhood was missing!

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and the pain that surged through my body felt like a thousand fiery needles piercing my skin. I wanted to scream, to escape this nightmare, but all that escaped my lips was a guttural cry of agony as the adrenaline that once fueled my defiance started to wear off.

"Awe, do you not like my newest piece for my art collection?" she taunted, her voice dripping with malicious amusement at my suffering.

The pain between my legs was unbearable, and I tried to wriggle free from my restraints, but it was as if I was trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight

She approached me with a leisurely pace, reveling in my anguish as she reached out to touch my wet cheeks, her touch feeling like a cold reminder of the hellish reality I found myself in.

I could do nothing but let her, my body numb and my spirit shattered by the sheer cruelty of the situation. The realization that I was at the mercy of a deranged individual hit me like a ton of bricks, and I knew that I was about to endure horrors beyond my wildest nightmares.

3rd Person's POV

As she stood there with an evil smirk playing on her lips, she looked positively diabolic, as if she had been possessed by the devil himself. The glint in her eyes sent shivers down the spine of anyone who dared to cross her path.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you open like this," she spoke with a chilling calmness in her voice. "Luckily, I'm a fashion designer, which means my stitch work is fantastic. I assure you, you'll be good as new."

She expertly donned her gloves and prepared a sterilized needle and thread, her movements precise and calculated.

"I'm going to have to warn you, this will hurt," she continued, a malevolent smile playing on her lips. "But just a little. You'll barely feel anything."

Despite his desperate pleas and frantic begging, she paid no heed. With a swift motion, the needle pierced through the meaty, chunky flesh, causing him to scream out in excruciating pain.

Her laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls as she continued her work as though she was on a mission from beyond. She sewed and sewed, the needle dancing in her skilled hands, the thread weaving a grotesque pattern on his skin.

She seemed unperturbed by his ear-deafening exclamations, her focus solely on her gruesome task at hand.

"Yikes, my hands are all bloody," she remarked casually, as though she was discussing the weather. "Just give me a moment to clean myself up."

Leaving him writhing in agony on the chair, she disappeared momentarily, leaving behind a trail of terror and despair. Min-Soo lay there, on the brink of losing consciousness, his body racked with intense pain that threatened to consume him whole.

When she returned, a sickening glee danced in her eyes, her smile as wide as the Cheshire cat's, but devoid of any semblance of human emotion.

"Now, for the last fun part," she declared, her voice dripping with faux empathy. "You'll enjoy it, as you won't have to suffer much. I'm not heartless, you know."

She brought a tool box and placed it on the table beside him. The metal clinks of the tools against each other echoed through the room, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Each item in the toolbox seemed to hold a sinister purpose, sending shivers down his spine.

“I'm sure you learnt how to dissect a frog in middle school, and the fascination you'd get after is great, that's why I'm going to do the same to you,” Heaven Valentino's voice dripped with malice, her words cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

Min-Soo's eyes popped out as he heard the disturbing words leave her mouth. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a wave of fear washed over him like a chilling breeze.

In his thirty years of life, he has never heard someone sound so diabolical, much less expect that from a woman as fragile looking as Heaven Valentino.

It was as if a dark shadow had consumed her, twisting her innocent appearance into something malevolent and pure evil.

It's like the woman had given control to her inner demons.

She gripped the knife and sliced along his chest from top to bottom. The searing pain shot through Min-Soo's body, making his every nerve scream in agony. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, intensifying the terror swirling within him.

The man wailed, the pain unendurable. His voice filled the room, a symphony of suffering that seemed to go unheard by anyone beyond the four walls enclosing them.

“Just kill me please, kill me already, I beg you!” He cried out, his voice hoarse and desperate. Tears welled up in his eyes, a mixture of pain and fear clouding his vision.

"Gladly," Heaven's smile dropped, revealing a cold and distant expression that sent chills down his spine. The glint in her eyes spoke of a darkness within her that he could never have imagined.

The ambiance belched something deadly like a forbidden entity as she slowly but deeply pierced the razor sharp knife into his chest, plunging through him. A gut-wrenching sound filled the room as the blade tore through flesh and bone, sealing his fate.

His eyes were shot open, a tear trickled down his face, an inaudible cry left his mouth. And his chest heaved his last breath. The room fell silent, the oppressive weight of death lingering in the air as Black Eagle's life slipped away, leaving behind only emptiness and sorrow.

END OF TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Taehyung's POV

It's been quite some time since we've had any contact with Heaven. She left us at her uncle's hybrid facility and assured us that she would return soon to bring us back. I can't help but worry about her safety, what if something happened to her and we have no way of knowing?

I really hope she's okay and will be back with us soon.

Jungkook is recovering quickly, thanks to the amazing healing abilities of hybrids. He's been asking about Heaven, just like the rest of us, but none of us have any solid information to give him. We are all in the dark about her whereabouts and well-being.

I decided to visit Jungkook in his room to play some games with him. Dante, Heaven's uncle, has been incredibly kind and caring towards us. He provided us with our own comfortable rooms filled with everything we could possibly need. Dante always checks in on us and asks if there's anything we require.

When Jungkook asked for games, Dante went above and beyond by getting him a whole PlayStation set. We had no idea how to use it initially, but Dante patiently taught us the ropes. Ever since then, we've been hooked on gaming, especially Jungkook. It's been a great way to keep our minds occupied and pass the time while we wait for Heaven's return.

As I strolled along the hallway of the familiar facility, my senses suddenly came alive as the fragrant smell of lavender and baby powder danced around me. It was a scent I knew all too well, one that was both addictive and comforting.

Without hesitation, I followed the alluring trail which eventually led me to the reception area where she stood.

Her presence never failed to captivate me. With a gracefulness that seemed to defy all logic, she turned towards me. Our eyes met, and in that singular moment, everything else faded away. It was as though the world had stopped spinning, leaving only her in my line of sight.

"Kitty," her voice called out, filled with warmth and affection. Her arms opened wide, beckoning me closer.

I didn't need a second invitation. With a rush of emotions, I closed the distance between us and enveloped her in a tight embrace, lifting her delicate frame off the ground.

The scent of lavender and baby powder enveloped me, triggering a flood of memories and emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

The tears came unexpectedly, spilling down my cheeks as I clung to her. With gentle hands, she brushed away my tears, her tender kisses leaving a trail of comfort on my skin. Her smile, so familiar and yet so enchanting, melted any lingering doubts or fears in my heart.

"I missed you so much, kitty," her voice, like a soothing melody, whispered in my ear as we remained entwined in each other's arms. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of us, cocooned in a bubble of shared emotion and unspoken words.

But reality soon intruded, reminding me that others were waiting for her return. Guilt tugged at my heart, knowing that I had monopolized her attention for too long. The rest of the guys, especially Jungkook, must be eager to reunite with her as well.

"Heaven, the other guys have been longing to see you, especially Jungkook. He's been asking about you nonstop, almost to the point of obsession," I confessed with a chuckle, breaking the momentary silence between us.

Without missing a beat, she smiled playfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Lead the way to my other babies," she declared, her command swathed in a layer of undeniable cuteness that never failed to charm me.

Reluctantly, I released her from my embrace and took her hand in mine, the size difference between our hands a poignant reminder of our bond.

As I guided her towards the waiting group of friends, a sense of contentment washed over me, knowing that she was finally back where she belonged.

With us.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hey there, lovely readers!

I just had to dive into the depths of darkness for this chapter, and let me tell you, it was like navigating through a pitch-black tunnel.

Writing it made me feel all kinds of emotions, and I hope you're all doing ok after reading it. But hey, at least Heaven finally got her sweet dose of revenge, right? Justice served!

I'm dying to know - what did you think of this chapter? My personal favorite part to write was the lovely little scene between Hobi and Heaven. It was just so heartwarming and adorable, it made my heart do a little twirl.

And oh my gosh, can we talk about Heaven's interactions with Taehyung? Literally the cutest thing ever, right? It's moments like those that make me fall in love with writing all over again. 💞

Thank you a million times for taking the time to read the chapter, and please, pretty please, don't forget to hit that vote button and drop a comment sharing your thoughts. Your feedback means the world to me and keeps my writing engine running. Plus, it's always so much fun to hear what you think!

Sending you all loads of love and virtual hugs! 🤗

With all my love and overflowing gratitude,

Your favorite AUTHOR-NIM 😁💞

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody, @strawblueberrys, @taetaeheart22, @canarystwin, @drenix004, @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud

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wifetomegatron · 7 months

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one hundred and one nights (overlord/reader)

summary : reader gets abducted by overlord. he has an infatuation. pairing : overlord (idw) / afab! reader fandom : transformers idw continuity, more than meets the eye rating : e for explicit and mild descriptions of gore & dubious consent, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) warnings : descriptions of violence, references to human disembodiment, human!reader, smut, sticky sexual interfacing tags : a lot of references to fairytail / folklore, mostly one-hundred and one nights & this goyard painting.

I. You've heard stories about him. Luna two, Garrus-nine, Hell's point. Albeit not from Swerve, or Chromedome, or Rodimus — that would be ridiculous. Impossible, even, when his name is already non-existent in the space of a ship big enough to fit thousands of Cybertornians. Not even a whisper, as if people were afraid that a slip of his name would be mistaken for a prayer and he would come to life, emerging from the shadowy corners of the Lost Light. Optics, sickly artificial red as they burn holes through the veil. But not even Primus would be as cruel as to materialize Overlord here. At least, you had hoped.

Only several nights before were you and Ratchet discussing him. The doctor knew you deserved an explanation for what transgressed over the weekend with Fort Max, Whirl, and Rung. On who he was, what he has done, and what he will continue to do if his spark wasn't sealed in a white vacuum — serpentine green drowning in nothing. The silence stretched for what felt like years, minutes solidifying themselves midair to bake the air thick. And your mouth was dry, face drained of its color. You didn't ask further, choosing to retreat into your room, where you made the last-minute decision to sleep with the lights on.

It was an irrational fear, you thought. To be afraid of someone light years away, deconstructed and stuffed in a box.

And yet here you are, trapped inside a prison chamber with him — limbs suspended, mouth curled into a grin.

II. It was a stupid accident. A stupid, preventable accident that could have been avoided if everyone had just sat down and listened to the noises Red Alert had been talking about. Their audials would have picked up the voices, the whispers, traveling through a crack big enough for you to slip into. Down the rabbit hole, you fell very slowly before hitting your shoulders square against the crown of Overlord’s head. Slipping ungracefully down an arm, and into the palm of his chained hand. You should have never taken directions from Whirl, because God knows how long it’ll take for the crew members to realize you were gone. And how many seconds left do you have to live, considering that you had conveniently fallen into his grip? A curse. A gift.

“What’s this?” He asked aloud. A dragon waking from his slumber, voice heavy as they echo throughout metal walls, “ Hm. They brought me a plaything.”

You couldn’t speak. Stunned mute as your head barely manages to recover from the impact. The chains rattled slightly, and he squeezed you — yet you were still intact. Surprisingly whole, save not for a few bruises. He says it’s because he’s bored. And that there’s no fun in having you bleed all over when he can’t clean himself up after.

He demanded you to speak and so you did, finding courage in your voice. Yet it sounded so tiny compared to his. And Overlord reveled in this. The more you tried to prove you weren’t afraid the more he’d tighten his grip, horrified to know that this level of self-restraint had (most likely) earned you a broken rib. You wonder what would happen if he had less motivation to keep you alive.

So you became Scheherazade and spoke softly in between trembling breaths. The boiling temperature inside this circular prison may very well be the Sahara, and if you flutter your eyes shut you can hear the sand dunes sing with the wind. And you lay in a dimly lit room with your new husband, spinning him a story so that he won’t plunge his blade past your sternum — the tip of his silver knife shimmering under firelight as they nick your pulse point. Overlord was your Shahryār, yet you wondered if he was just as curious as the prince or if he was too clever to be outwitted by a story. Most likely the latter. Yet maybe he’s just willing to play along, knowing that he will always be the cat, and never the bird. That there’s only one ending — for he has robbed you of your sunrise and conquered all your dusks— so might as well make it count.

III. But maybe Overlord should’ve killed you. He should’ve snapped you in half, and if the sight would have delighted him into a good mood, it would even be painless, quick. Yet instead, he decided that you were worth more than that. This cat wanted to play with his food. Wanted to hear it sing. And so he performed a massacre and took you with him.

At least it spared Chromedome the pain of having Rewind aboard the compartment with Overlord. Instead, he had you. And ever since then you've been drifting, deeper and deeper into darkness. Swallowed by the void of space, where nothing seems to glow brighter than his optics.

IV. You continued telling him stories. It became the only thing you knew how to do, rather than the only thing that kept you alive. You were now at an abandoned spaceport, where your captor sought temporary refuge. It conveniently hovered above the organic civilization living below on Saturn. He jokes about colonizing them, yet you didn't laugh, quietly staring at the man Overlord just squished under his foot. He must've been a routine worker sent to check the premises. He could have alerted the planet below. And could've called for help.

Bile was rising into the back of your throat.

Maybe he came with a friend. Or maybe Overlord had their way with them already. As you silently wept, you turned the other way — opting to blankly stare past the window. You can see his reflection approaching, the metal beneath you tremble with each step.

" What did I say about your crying?" He crooned, a digit forcefully dragging your chin upwards. You tried to be defiant, to puff out your cheeks and stop your lips from trembling. Yet there was blood on his armor, sprayed across his face. And now there were some on your cheek, wet and sticky, enough to make the tears fall faster.

Then, amid the silence that has crowded the room, between the background hums and noises coming from the machine arose the subtle, clicking noise of a cooling fan. He pushed the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip, the red shade of his optics burning into a deep shade of garnet.

" Look at me when you cry," He commanded, " I want to see it."

V. You told him a story of the Roman titan who devoured his sons one by one — afraid they’d overthrow him. Eat or be eaten, was that what Megatron thought when he installed a killswitch in his head? You hoped this would flatter him. It did. A little too much.

VI. You usually don't talk when he's inside of you. When his spike is stretching you almost too painfully, you never make conversation, it is always the sound of your shallow breathing and his indulgent moaning, mingling together in the air. He didn't force you, no. A part of you had wanted this. Out of sheer fear or stress, you're not sure.

Either way, it's safe to say that Overlord doesn't want you dead anytime soon. Yet he's starting to get bored. Or rather, tired, of wanting. Of fighting this internal disgust in himself for ever thinking of having you like this: underneath him, writhing and struggling to have him all the way to the hilt. He has always been more glutton than prideful. And so here you two were, with his mass displaced yet hands still big enough to cover the expanse of your back — thumbs draped against your nipples. Squeezing, circling. His optics leered at the hickeys and bruises loitering your skin. He has a fascination with how they turn purple and bleed red, sometimes blooming into blue before fading. You tell him as long as he's gentle enough not to break anything, he's more than welcome to have you like this.

As insatiable as he is, that was enough for him.

" If I had known...organics were this pliant. I would have gotten myself a plaything eons ago."

He roughly snapped his hips upwards, dragging you against the berth.

" Sing for me."

Nothing made sense anymore. Not when he has you by the talons like a wild animal, hunched over to devour its prey. Atoms would condense and cluster and sink onto your skin, crowding you with heat from the brutal pace he's setting. You're afraid he'd snap your hip as he hikes up your right leg. Angling you, using you, to his pleasure. And there is pleasure out of this for you too, molten liquid tightening around your abdomen. So you indulge him. He likes seeing you cry, and so you did. Begging, whining — which only causes him to hold you closer to his chassis. The thrum of his spark against you is loud enough to send you into a headache.

It's too much. You wanted to say. But you know it's futile. So as you reached your high — spent and overstimulated from this newfound obsession of his — you could do nothing but brace yourself for the rush of trans fluid spilling down your legs. Your cunt, sore and aching as he finally pulls away.

He says you're funner this way. That's the closest thing you'll get to a sunrise.

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serenaisavillain · 1 month

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Sword and Silk

Summary: Within the ancient walls of the Red Keep, the Princess is ensnared by the looming presence of Ser Harwin "Breakbones" Strong, his silent vigilance concealing darker depths. Amidst his whispers of protection, a hidden yearning simmers beneath the surface, entwined with the secrets that swarm within the castle's corridors.

Warnings: Themes of violence, including depictions of physical altercations, character death, grief, complex power dynamics, manipulation and coercion.

Author's Note: Your feedback is valuable to me as an author. Whether it's your thoughts on the characters, the plot twists, or even just your emotional response to the story, I genuinely want to hear from you. Stay tuned for the second part!

Word Count: 2.4k

HE WAS HER SHADOW. Strolling heavy-footed behind her at every moment. The princess's every move was scrutinised under his unwavering gaze. King Viserys had long lectured his only daughter in the belly of his sleeping chamber. The presence of her Kingsguard was for her own protection. Ser Harwin "Breakbones" Strong was true to his namesake. The thought that harm might come to her under his shield was amusing.

Still, she felt so diminutive; every footstep, his looming presence followed. He towered over her like the godswood tree under which her lessons commenced. His wide back and mighty arms did not settle the swarm of wasps that buzzed within her belly. It rattled their nest.

She was left to her own devices during the day within the heart of the sept. The seven walls of the dusty stone room seldom held the inhabitants of the castle. Their focus remained fixed on indulging their whims, she always thought. After her delicate finger lit a candle at the altar, she bent both knees before the marble statue of The Father. A precipitation of teardrops rolled down the apples of her cheeks. There she begged, hands clasped for the soul of her dear mother.

She would emerge when the sun hung low in the sky and the shadows grew long. Her dampened features never failed to draw Ser Harwin's attention. His thick eyebrows drew themselves together over his deep sable eyes.

"Are you alright, Princess?" He would always whisper.

These were the only times her lilac eyes would dare flicker to his, resembling the red of her house banner.

"Yes, Ser Harwin." She would croak before averting her eyes to the grey stone path beneath her feet.

ON A DAY OF GENTLE BREEZE, tranquil waters and clear skies, her cousin, Lady Laena Velaryon's ship, docked at the harbour of Blackwater Bay.

Ser Harwin's eyes softened as a genuine smile graced the Princess's lips for once. A fleeting moment of brightness amidst the shadows that surrounded her.

"Cousin!" She cried.

She nearly tripped over the train of her black gown, running towards her kin, arms outstretched.

When the gap between them was sealed, an entanglement of limbs ensued, their silver hair dancing wildly in the wind.

"How is my dearest Y/N?" The older girl asked, panting.

The Princess nodded as they began to walk down the pier.

Stark-white seagulls flew above them alongside the dark scales of Vhagar.

The large dragon casting a quick shadow.

The crew unloading the cargo of the ship gasped in awe of the great beast.

"The days no longer seem long… as I have written in my letters. They now somehow manage to bleed together. I often confuse many moons ago for yesterday…" She sighed.

Lady Laena clutched the Princess's cold hands within her own.

"You shall grieve no longer, sweet Y/N. We shall fête every day until I depart!" She laughed, tugging her into a hug that nearly suffocated the younger girl.

Ser Harwin smiled unbeknownst to the two, his heavy boots following behind as always.

Y/N hurriedly walked through the corridor of the Red Keep, the sound of her low-heeled shoes barely audible against the polished marble floor.

She came to a halt at a heavy Valyrian steel door, gesturing to it with delicate fingers.

"The finest room in the castle, for my truest confidant." She giggled.

The knight had not heard the Princess laugh in that manner since her last name day when the Queen was still alive.

KING VISERYS HAD declared that there be three days of celebration for his daughter.

On the first night, a lavish feast commenced. Every elegantly clad guest gorged themselves on the most sumptuous of delicacies. From roasted boar to buttered rolls to indulgent cakes adorned with fruit and thick frosting.

Amidst his peers, the man with dark curls hungered for something else - or rather, someone.

Princess Y/N sat tall upon a skillfully carved chair among the rest of her family, her dainty wrist adorned with a pewter bracelet encrusted with rubies. It grazed against the velvet tablecloth as she spoke. She and her cousin Lady Laena brushed shoulders, occasionally whispering and giggling as they indulged heavily in Dornish wine.

The crimson colour gown she donned made her bronze skin more radiant, competing with the shimmer of its silk fabric. The garment's onyx corset adorned with an embroidered dragon and delicate lace details sinched her waist. The dress hugged every curve of her body with a luxurious embrace. The neckline embellished with matching black lace plunged daringly low, accentuating the swell of her bust.

No fault of the Princess, he imagined; she certainly could not be aware of how appetisingly she had blossomed over the past year - he certainly had not until now.

"Brother, you are drooling," his brother Larys jested.

Ser Harwin averted his gaze instantaneously.

The knight, in his finest attire, futilely attempted to focus on the roasted duck drowned in gravy that sat on his plate. He could not resist the décolletage of the heiress, his eyes carefully peering at the curly-haired beauty.

On the second day, when the sun hung directly overhead, the King commanded a tournament be held. Lords and Ladies of Westeros and the lesser kingdoms filled the seats of the great coliseum, heavy bags of coin in their grasp with the intention of placing bets on the bravest knights.

Despite the tremor of his hands, Lord Strong encouraged his son to be among those in the festivities.

As the knights prepared for the final joust, Ser Harwin Strong approached the royal pavilion where the princess sat. His skin was slick with sweat that he hoped she assumed was a byproduct of the Westerosi summer. His armour was clangorous with the steady trot of his steed. His eyes were fixed on her visage as he steadied his mount.

"Princess," he began, bowing his head before her, "I ask that you bestow me the honor of wearing your favor."

The Princess slowly rose from her cushioned seat and approached the railing, the wreath of blood-red roses in her delicate grasp.

A shy smile graced her painted lips.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "May it bring you luck, Ser Harwin."

The man contained the swell of pride that erupted in his broad chest as the wreath now adorned his wooden lance.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said, "I shall carry it with pride."

Ser Harwin's armour gleamed in the sunlight as he returned to his position.

Silence settled over the coliseum.

With a thunderous roar, the signal was given, and the two knights spurred their steeds into action. Dust danced in the air as the hooves of horses thundered down the lists, lances steadied and gazes marked on thine own target.

The lances crashed against each other. Only black-haired knight's held true, colliding with the armour of his opponent with brutal force. He, however, remained steady on the leather of his saddle.

with brutal force. He however, remained steady upon the leather of his saddle.

The nobles erupted into cheers as Ser Harwin's opponent was unseated, descending to the dust with a deafening clangour. The victorious knight waved briefly to the crowd before his horse gave out below him.

The gasps and screams of the court reverberated through the arena.

The shrieks of steel on steel rang across the jousting field as the two knights clashed. Ser Harwin was a man possessed, his blows raining down upon his opponent with relentless force. At one point, he tossed aside his sword, pummeling his opponent with simply his hands, both fists pounding against his chest.

As the dust settled and the screams of the crowd fell dead, Ser Harwin stood with his head hung, his gauntlets bloody, and his breath in ragged gasps. There was no longer pride in his eyes; only a grim visage remained, finding no solace in knowing he had defended his honour and upheld the code to which he had sworn his life.

He gazed upon the Princess's face; her violet eyes widened, and her mouth agape.

On the last night, fireworks exploded in the midnight sky above the ships of Blackwater Bay, the most noble of houses making drunken toasts to the Princess Y/N.

A table of gifts, wrapped in the most ornate of papers and fabrics and tied in the most elaborate and fantastical of bows, piled as high as the mountains in the North. It only grew as the evening went on, each courtier attempting to outdo the next.

A bard strummed his mandolin and cried out a song naming her the Princess, the realm's delight.

But the princess sat at her table, feigning looks of surprise and joy as one pompous figure after another greeted her.

THE LADY LAENA smiled.

"Oh, how you honour me, Y/N," she began, "Won't you join me for some wine and gossip?" She jested.

The Princess nodded, escaping with her kin under the threshold arm in arm.

The young knight stood back turned towards the door, not meaning to but overhearing their girlish chatter.

Y/N sat at the foot of Laena's bed, watching as she undressed.

The soft winds rustled the silken curtains, filling the room with a slight chill.

"How long has it been since we have laid eyes upon each other dear cousin?" Y/N said, sipping from her silver chalice.

Laena sighed as she plopped on the tall mattress. Her hair spread across the cool satin sheets.

"Way too long, I fear." She pouted.

Y/N gulped the last bit of her wine, wiping the side of her mouth with the tips of her pointer and index fingers.

Her cousin chuckled.

"What?! What provokes you to such laughter?" Y/N flopped back so she could lay beside her.

"You, drunkard." She giggled.

"I'll have you know I have not indulged in quite sometime," the Princess shrugged, reaching for the pitcher.

"By all means indulge… Your Grace," she jested.

Y/N shoved the older girl's shoulder.

"Do you remember all the mischief we got up to?" She sat up reaching for her own chalice.

"How could one forget."

"Little dragons should be seen and not heard!" they both exclaimed at the same time.

Another fit of laughter ensued.

"Good riddance to Otto! That old geezer!" Y/N began before her soft palms covered her mouth.

Laena rolled around the bed, clutching her nightgown-covered stomach.

"You have never told a lie! I do not regret ever eavesdropping on his conversations." She stated plainly.

"Gods! Remeber when we heard him trying to seduce that young kitchen hand?! What was her name-" The princess began once more.

"Maeve! The poor girl!" Her cousin answered.

The two fell weak, with stomachs aching from laughter.

The hour grew late, and the pair grew bacchanalian.

Their chalices once filled with the finest of Dornish wine had run dry.

"…Any interesting converstions… or encounters at court...?" Laena asked. Her head now hung off the bed.

Y/N pouted her lips.

"No lords interest me…" Y/N retorted, reflecting on the disappointing suitors she had encountered. From brutish Baratheons to loquacious Lannisters.

Laena hummed.

"He does not have to be a lord…" she sang.

The princess sat up.

"It is almost as if you are referring to someone in particular dear cousin…" She arched her brow.

The Velaryon girl shrugged.

"Have you perhaps noticed the fleeting glances of your Kingsgaurd…?" The girl flipped over onto her belly.

She laughed nearly falling from the bed.

"Ser Harwin? I assure you I have no interest in a man like him. He probably frequents the brothel in Mole's Town, has fathered a thousand bastards and…"

"Uh huh… So you are smitten with him…" She deduced.

Y/N heaved a boudoir pillow at her cousin's head.

"I have no time to be consumed by matters of the heart… besides how can one forget the brutality of my name day…"

Laena's eyes softened.

Y/N cleared her throat.

"The hour has grown late dear cousin. I fear I must retire…" Y/N explained before swaying to her feet.

The older girl nodded.

She rose off the bed, bidding her kin goodnight with a kiss on the cheek.

The girl tugged feebly at the door before managing to pry it ajar.

She had forgotten her sworn protector resided outside until his dark ringlets appeared in the candlelit corridor.

"Princess." He greeted hoarsely.

"Ser Harwin. My apologies…" She slurred before clumsily shuffling past him.

The knight stifled the laugh that bubbled in his belly at the sight before him. In fact, he quite enjoyed it when the Princess murmured more than two words to him.

"No need to apologise Your Grace. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?" he said looking down at her state.

The top buttons of her chemise were unbuttoned; he had not the slightest clue where her shoes had gone and her curls were more unruly than usual.

Frankly she looked as though she'd been bedded.

"Yes… to my chambers," she sighed.

THE WALK WAS SLOW, but Ser Harwin did not mind. He found the sight quite adorable.

Princess Y/N hummed along as she used the passing walls to stabilize her.

When they reached the door, the knight pushed it open, standing straight outside the threshold.

The princess mumbled a quiet thanks before entering her large chamber.

A few moments after she had shut the door behind her, he heard what he thought was his name being uttered from her lips.

"Princess?" her turned to the door, his hand frozen at the handle.

"Are you decent?" He called.

"Yes!" she answered rather quietly.

The man swallowed hard.

The room was exceptionally warm from the fireplace that burned brightly in the corner, casting the shadows of flickering flames over the princess's face.

He shut the door behind him.

"I cannot manage the strings of my corset…" She pouted.

The man's skin warmed.

He supposed that since it was now the hour of the wolf, it would be most unkind to awaken Her Grace's handmaiden to do such a simple task.

The knight removed his gauntlets laying them gently on the table beside him.

He cautiously approached the heiress. Her back turned towards him.

She tossed her pearlescent hair over her shoulder so it rested on her collar bone.

His nimble fingers unravelling the strings of the corset one by one.

The man tried to ignore the way his rough fingers grazed the softness of her skin every now and again.

The princess sighed deeply.

"Thank you, Ser Harwin."

The man grunted in response, afraid that his tongue might betray him.

The silver-haired beauty stalked towards him, eyes fixed; he had not realized that he was marching backwards until his head hit the wall with a thud.

"Ser Harwin…" She said. Her glossy lilac eyes peering up at him through her long eyelashes.

"Princess…" He whispered. Swallowing thickly.

She tilted her head to the side.

His eyes immediately fell to her exposed neck.

"Do you desire me?"

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