#{there's a reason why i made this oc to be tortured by staying the same and not the others}

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝐁𝐞𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨) ~

Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC  Part 9 of Betrayal Oh my god Summary: Azriel’s Mother comes to visit Warnings: Domestic abuse, Azriel’s Father, Unhealthy family dynamics, Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, Grief, Betrayal

Azriel loved his mother. Even as a boy locked in a darkened cell, the hour he got with her always made him feel like he was the luckiest to call Aisling his mother. The second he got the chance, around 100 years old, he had taken Rhysand and Cassian with him to force his father’s hand, freeing his mother from the Camp Lord’s abuse. He had thought their relationship would become even better, had thought he’d finally get a taste for what it was like to have his mom with him for more than an hour a week. But he hadn’t taken into account that as much as she loved him, as much as she wanted to finally be there for her child, Azriel looked like his father’s son. 

That was part of the reason his father and step family hated him so. He looked so much like his father, far closer to him than either of his cruel half-brother’s did. Looked like him so much that in Aisling’s weakest moments, she couldn’t stand to look at her son, wearing the face of their shared abuser. 

It hadn’t been something he had been prepared for. Years of fighting, of torture, of trauma, and his mother bursting into tears and throwing things at him in her worst of times had almost killed him. So he stayed away to protect her.

Even though she had gotten to the point where episodes like that were few and far in-between, Azriel had needed far more convincing to visit her. They had restored their relationship a lot in the past few hundred years, but any time he looked at his mother, he knew what she saw. The same thing he saw every time he looked in the mirror. 

Whether it was a divine intervention of some sorts that took pity on the Shadowsinger, or whether his sheer hatred had done it alone, he had grown to resemble his dad far less. Where Azriel was classically beautiful, his father was brutally and cruelly so. Still, Azriel could never feel anything but hatred and resentment for that man when he looked at himself. 

Nesta quickly left, deciding it was better to give the two a private reunion. She walked down to the room that had been quickly converted into a dining room, so the Inner Circle, as well as Helion, could stay close to both Az and Adelaide.  

“How was he when he saw Aisling?” Rhysand asked. Nesta almost didn’t answer him, still extremely mad at Rhys for his treatment of both the Shadowsinger and Addie, but the look of pure despair and concern, along with the slightest glint of hope, pushed her to reply.

“He looked shocked, so I left quickly to let them hash it out.” She said as she sat down next to her mate, who put a comforting arm around her shoulder. 

“Wouldn’t he be happy to see his mother? Why hadn’t she come sooner?” Feyre asked. 

“They have a complicated relationship. Because of Azriel’s father’s abuse-” The High Lord of night began, till he was cut off by a bread roll thrown at his head.

“It is none of her business.” Mor hissed out. 

Since the betrayal, even for a while before, Feyre hadn’t been on the best of terms with Adelaide. While Addie had been nothing but kind, Feyre saw her as an obstacle keeping her from her mate. When Feyre’s ill treatment towards her had reached its tipping point, causing Addie to run to Az in tears, Azriel had been less than amicable with his brother’s mate. It was also clear Feyre had seen his attempted resurrection of his best friend as nothing but an attack against her. She had become slightly more empathetic and understanding in the past few weeks, but that had only been because any sharp words from her about either of the best friends had led to fights with any of the Inner Circle, but especially Rhysand, who had been keeping his promise of working towards doing right by those he wronged. 

Feyre huffed when she realized Rhysand wasn’t even going to speak an explanation into her mind, finding his mind shields impenetrable. 

“Thesan said he had checked in with his mother at Rosehall to see how Aisling had been doing when we requested her presence. Apparently, she has been much better, but had been worried about Azriel when her letters went unanswered.” Helion spoke up. 

Cassian deflated at that, he had seen Aisling’s letters piling up, knew that Az hadn’t been in the right state to answer. He should have known that his mother was probably the right person to call. 

“She is here now. So we must make plans on what to do next. The High Lord has delegated enough work, both of you must go back and run your court.” Amren stated, staring down both Rhysand and Feyre. The youngest Archeron wanted nothing more than to return to her court, but Rhysand had been more weary, not wanting to leave Azriel vulnerable like he had before. 

But now it wasn’t like before, not really. Rhysand knew Az had been in a dark, depressive state for months after Adelaide’s death. He had done nothing but the occasional check in or inquiry, to which he never got an answer from the Shadowsinger himself. Now, Az had hope that he would soon be reunited with his best friend. While he wasn’t in good physical condition, mentally he was on the mend. Plus, he had the best healers and scholars in Prynthian working around the clock to help the two of them, along with the Inner Circle to offer familiar comfort. 

He knew he had to leave. He knew it was best to leave Az with people he actually wanted to see. Rhysand would have to work on gaining Azriel’s forgiveness later. 

Right then, Aisling herself popped in, looking tired but content. 

Only Rhysand and Cassian had met her, Amren knew of her existence and couldn’t truly say she wasn’t interested in the woman who created a son like Azriel, but she didn’t think it was her business, so she never cared to inquire more. While the Archerons had been left out of the loop for the most part, Nesta had learned of her existence and Azriel’s protectiveness over her after making a sharp comment about how the fact he never spoke of her must mean she wasn’t a very good mother, a comment she still deeply regretted, even though he had forgiven her a few times over. Mor on the other hand, had begged to meet her. Azriel had enthusiastically agreed many times, but Rhys had always intervened, knowing it was unfair of her to request to meet someone so deeply cherished by Azriel when Mor was knowingly playing with his feelings for her. 

No one spoke as they waited for Aisling to break the silence. Popping down next to Cassian, who she had often referred to as her second son, she let out a somber and exasperated laugh. 

“I will never understand it.” The Illyrian woman said.

No one spoke, until Feyre lost her patience with all the secrecy, “Understand what?”

Several glares from the Inner Circle were directed at the High Lady. 

“His capacity for love.” Aisling answered. Once again the room fell silent, the reply like an arrow to the heart after their negligent treatment of the Shadowsinger. “I have no idea where he got it.” Cassian laughed, a clear ‘obviously he got it from his mother’ displayed in his expression. “I’m serious. Even before…” she trailed off, making vague hand gestures. Everyone knew what she wasn’t saying out loud, even before the abuse. 

She took a deep breath and continued after a few moments, “I never truly believed in love as strong as his, never knew it was a possibility. Maybe it was Illyria, maybe it was my environment specifically. Maybe I wasn’t meant for romantic love. But Azriel had every right to grow up cruel, to end up hateful. No matter what bullshit he gives about the things he has done, he loves with his entire being.” 

As she let a tear fall, Cassian reached for her hand on the table. “You look well, Aisling.” 

She laughed, “Azriel makes me look young.” She hadn’t been prepared to see him, it had been decades since they had last met in person. After 50 years without communication with Rhysand keeping the Inner Circle stuck in Velaris, both had been weary as to how Aisling seeing him would go. They restarted their letters, promised to meet again “soon”, but when Adelaide died, Azriel had gone silent without any answer. Cassian and Rhysand had vaguely filled her in on why her son wouldn’t answer but with Az not talking to either of them, they couldn’t give much information. When she saw her son, he seemed to have aged hundreds of years in their time apart. 

“Didn’t you have him when you were young? You are hardly older than any of us and far younger than Amren.” Helion inquired. 

“I was 16 when I had him.” Several at the table shuttered at the thought. 

Once more the room was filled with silent grief, a depressing situation getting far more depressing with each second. That was till Nesta spoke up.

“You mentioned romantic love. Does- Is Azriel in love with Adelaide?” The question seemed to suck all the air from the room. Of course he loved her, but was Az in love with Addie? The thought made Rhysand nauseous. 

“I asked him. Seeing him look at her now, it isn’t the same as before.” Tension mixed with impatience made everyone unable to move. “He doesn’t know anymore. He said he didn’t before, or doesn’t believe he did. He just said he ‘woke up differently’. I’m unsure what he meant.” She explained.

Before anyone could speak up, a healer, who had been by Azriel’s side after his mother left, ran into the room. “She’s awake” was all that could be heard before a loud crash sounded from Adelaide’s room.  

A/N: Aisling is pronounced Ash-Ling. 

[deus-sema]

Disclaimer: This is the rant of a shipper who had expected a bit more combined with the concerns of an audience member who was left dissatisfied on certain fronts. It will contain both conjecture and wishful thinking.

What I genuinely liked about this season was that the performances were all par excellence and many dialogues were well written and masterfully delivered. One aspect that the finale did complete justice to was Annatar and Celebrimbor’s doomed partnership with Sauron’s ultimate betrayal culminating with the infamous Celebrimbanner. The entire season was leading up to that one last scene between them, which was flawless.

That being said, they couldn’t stick the landing with other subplots and  I might have an idea why.

A Finger In Every Pie

There were too many conflicts that needed to be addressed – if not outright resolved – by the time we reached the finale. Gandalf vs Dark Wizard, Isildur’s subplot, Numenor, Balroggate at Khazad-dûm, and Eregion, which was supposed to be the subplot driving this season. Ideally, most of these should have been resolved in the previous episodes with the finale focusing on Eregion and Khazad-dûm. Call it a side effect of having no more than eight episodes but the rest of the subplots were rushed or resolved abruptly.

The First Season: To embrace it or reject it entirely?

Some believe that the second season is an improvement from the first one but that was possible only because the first season laid the groundwork for every character, their dynamics, and the subplots, some of which paid off in S2. The risks the writers had taken with S1 were too major and there was no turning back the moment those decisions were made. Let’s make one thing clear. The opinions of that bigoted grifter gang who hate the show maliciously do not, and will never, count even the slightest bit. As far as the rest of the fans who simply chose to turn away from the show because of the liberties it took are concerned, then they cannot be appeased or wooed back. Once people make up their minds, it’s difficult to change it. What the showrunners should have done was embrace it fully as a fanfiction based on the source material and, gradually, let it evolve into its own thing The fans who liked it for what it was would stay for sure; with time, new ones will join in. Attempting to “fix” the perceived errors of the first season by divorcing the rest of the show from it isn’t going to work. Galadriel’s screentime was reduced, Bronwyn, one of the most important OCs of s1, was killed offscreen and wasn’t even afforded the dignity of a recast – if Nazanin’s desire to quit was the sole reason for this creative decision – like Adar was. Speaking of Adar, the way his arc was wrapped up was perhaps more anticlimactic than the Saurondriel showdown. Having him be betrayed and killed by the very children whom he cherished, in the same manner in which Sauron was assassinated, would have been poetic provided we had a season worth of development leading upto it. Having his protectiveness for his children turn into paranoia at the possibility of Sauron’s return, the Uruk’s discontent and disillusionment with him and Sauron preying on both to obtain his revenge on Adar would have been diabolical on his part and tragic for the Uruk because by the time they would’ve realised their folly, it would have been too late. But that didn’t happen and, just like that, another important link to the first season was severed and a subplot with immense potential was wasted. It also serves as a setback to one of the most ambitious objective the show flirted with: the humanization and a nuanced portrayal of the Orcs. It would have been one thing to have Glug be the only one to betray Adar at the last minute but all it took was two seconds for Sauron – the person whom they know doesn’t give a fuck about the Uruk and won’t think twice before torturing or killing them - to turn the lot of them against their Lord Father who had protected them until now. Sure, that makes Sauron appear super competent and Adar sympathetic but the Uruk got the shorter end of the stick. They came off looking like a bunch of gullible, bloodthirsty fools who have no integrity or loyalty and who live for carnage. The only reason why some of them started doubting Adar was because they believed he was leading them on a suicide mission chasing Sauron’s ghost. So, logically, finding out that Adar’s fears were right and Sauron – their tormentor and former oppressor – is back should have reinforced their loyalty to Adar. Instead, they all went back to square one. Adar – their representative - died. Glug - the most prominent one among them - died as well. What reason does anyone from the general audience have to care for them anymore? Rather, some would think they got what’s coming for them. Serves them right to betray poor Adar for Sauron who didn’t even have to lift a finger to manipulate them.

Much like everything else, Haladriel/Saurondriel is a child of s1 and it stands to reason that they backpedaled on it, like everything else. But I am also of the opinion that they aren’t willing to abandon it entirely yet. There is the marketing, for instance. Then, Sauron and Galadriel’s confrontation in s2 was predictable, rushed and somewhat lazily written. There are multiple ways in which it could have been improved. But he is still obsessed with her and she is still affected by him, despite hating him. From here, the writers can either grow a pair and further explore what they themselves established, that they want to emphasize on, through mind palace interactions or forced proximity – because time and distance matters not in tv world – or in any other way in the upcoming seasons or they can keep trying to appease the haters. The ball is in their court. Creatives chickening out is nothing new for shippers.

The Random Shock Value Effect

A certain show called GoT changed the landscape of television forever. No other pop culture phenomenon, save for the MCU’s Infinity Saga, came close to the craze it commanded in the last decade. Its influence on the tv shows that followed it cannot be overlooked. One aspect of it that was and still is overdone is including scenes that serve no purpose within the narrative for no other reason but momentary shock value or to ‘subvert expectations’. The Elron/driel kiss? Doing a Ser Barristan Selmy with Adar? All that isn’t going to work in the long run. It certainly didn’t for GoT.

[thenerdytomboy]

I generally try to stay out of fandoms for a lot of reasons, but what I've seen recently in regards to TSAMS/LAES/Etc etc is downright upsetting

First off, to the writers/VAs, especially Kat

I know you won't see this but I'm so incredibly sorry. You don't deserve any of this, and I'm deeply ashamed of how the fandom has been acting/treating you

Earth, puppet, and Dazzle have been some of my favorite characters, and seeing people shit on them is so upsetting, I can only imagine how much worse it is for all of you as the writers/VAs to see that, for all your characters

I genuinely hope that in time your mental health improves and people will learn to keep their opinions to themselves

Now to the fandom:

You all need to learn to shut the fuck up.

Full stop.

You need to learn to shut the fuck up.

You can hate characters, you can dislike them, you can like them, you can love them, you're in full right to do all of that

What you are NOT in full right to do, is to be ASSHOLES about it.

Reed, Davis, Kat, all of them are making you a free, daily uploads show because they want to, they don't owe you shit and you don't owe them shit

So many of you apparently don't know what a parasocial relationship is.

They're not your friends. They are strangers. Strangers who don't owe you anything.

Would you just walk up to someone in real life and start trash talking them? Or their family or their friends?

I would hope to god not because that's EXTREMELY RUDE.

These shows are the writers/VAs Aus basically.

Earth, Dazzle, Lunar, bloodmoon, etc etc are basically all of their OCs

How would YOU feel if someone you didn't know just showed up in your comments/messages/server and started trashing on your OCs, calling them selfish bitches, telling you your OCs should kill themselves? You'd be upset, wouldn't you? You'd be angry, you think that person is being a dick.

So why is it any different when you do that to the writers/VAs of the characters on the security breach shows.

I'll say it again, you're fully allowed to feel whatever you like about a character, that is your right, that is your opinion.

Read that again.

That is your OPINION.

You don't need to share your opinion. Especially when it's rude/mean/unnecessary.

Here's an example:

Im currently not a fan of TSaMS Moon because of his actions in recent videos

You know how I handle that? I talk with my friends about it and think critically in my Analysis of his character and his choices.

I DO NOT go into the discord server/comments/VAs Dms and start trashing on Moon and saying horrible things

THATS a good example of how to respectfully handle not liking a character.

You should always think critically of characters in media you consume, whether you hate them or love them

And you should recognize that you're bitching about the characters/writing of a show that's being made FOR FREE out of the KINDNESS of these guys hearts. It's not going to be perfect and it's not going to be for everyone, that's not their faults

If you don't like the way the show is going, stop fucking watching it. It's that simple. You don't need to air out every little thought you have on it.

I know it's just blatant misogyny, because a lot of you will trash on female-identifying characters for doing the same things as male-identifying characters even when the male-identifying characters are being so much worse about it

Y'all trash on Earth for getting a lil selfish after everything she's been through but then turn around and defend Bloodmoon, the canon murderer/torture-happy bot who doesn't have an ounce of regret in him for what he's done, like your lives depend on it.

Fuckers in fandoms that act like this are the reason why so many good shows/projects get scrapped/cut short because they harass the creators with their unneeded comments/opinions.

Youre allowed to be critical and criticize the media you consume, it's healthy and I do encourage others to do so

But there is a HUGE difference between doing that respectfully and being an asshole about it

And to wrap this up

Tldr:

Writers/VAs I'm sorry on behalf of the fandom and I hope things get better for you all soon

Fandom, get your shit together, I don't care what your age is, it's not that hard to be polite and respectful

Keep acting like this and soon we won't even have a show anymore

And then you'll bitch about the consequences of your actions

Do better, be better. Kindness is free.

[xreaderbooks]

All I breathe (2)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, trauma, and torture

Summary: Could a mission to Y/n’s childhood home, the Autumn Court, spark a friendship between the night courts spymaster and the newest emissary? Or will they let their hatred come between, what could be, a strong bond?

A/N: I made Nuan from ACOWAR heavily OC in this, I haven't read the books in so long so please forgive any reference mistakes. I haven't read ACOSF either so keep that in mind, I did try to do my research for storyline purposes when it comes to the first 4 books. I also do not know how to describe dresses very well lol. Send me a message or comment if you want to be tagged in future parts.

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

An Illyrian bastard! you could not stand him. He was a contemptuous brute as you knew most Illyrians were. Cassian and Rhysand were just fine, if only he turned out more like his brothers. Although the comment the former had made had you reeling. In no world do you see yourself sharing a bed with the Shadowsinger. What was worse was knowing the days to come were going to be filled with hours of what had just occurred. In the safety of your room, you had released the flames that begged for freedom, letting them kindle on your hands, careful not to get too close to the furniture.

The power you and your twin had shared assuming it had come from your mother's distant bloodline. Your mother was another factor that you had thought of constantly during your stay at this new court. While you dealt with your own struggles mentally, you and Lucien had a better life here in Velaris, you were free from all the males who once dominated your life. You couldn’t say the same for your poor mother. She was the one person you looked forward to seeing.

“He’s not right you know?” A smooth casual familiar voice echoed from behind you. Your power jolted, letting out a blast of controlled flames in your hands.

“I could have burned you, you idiot!” You shoved your brother away from you once you recovered from the shock.

“No, you really couldn’t have.” He chuckled. There Lucien stood a few feet behind you, he just left yesterday morning, there was no reason for him to be back so early.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You crossed your arms and shuffled closer to your bed, sitting on the edge.

“I heard Rhysand gave you a tough assignment, with an even tougher partner.”

“Do not call him my partner and he’s weaker than any of you give him credit for,” You snarked back.

Lucien put his hands up in surrender, “Relax I’m just here to ease the tension.”

“Like you ever,” You glared at him playfully.

“He has a way of making you tense so easily, Sister.” Lucien sits beside you on the edge of the end of your bed. “Despite your hatred for him, you need to place your trust in him fully while you’re there.”

“Why can’t you come with me?” You put on your best puppy dog-like pleading eyes, Lucien stopped falling for it once you both came to an age where life was not so easily bought by a sweet smile or those perfect doe eyes you were able to mimic.

“I would if I could, I have business elsewhere” He ruffled your hair pushing your head away lightly when you scowled at him. “Important business in the mortal realms of all places.”

“Oh please, you can feign annoyance all you want but you’ve found an interest there.”

“I don’t have much keeping me here anyway Y/n, better to keep busy.” A sad disposition had formed within him whenever he was near Elain, he couldn’t do more than he was already doing to make Elain comfortable around him.

The words stung, and suddenly the statement Azriel made didn’t seem so far off the truth. You knew you could make yourself useful enough to be of value but what did any of that mean when your own twin couldn’t find your company worthy. Obviously, he did have places to go and people to meet but you did too and if he ever needed you, you would drop everything to be there for him. The scar on your left cheek was a testament to that.

You sat there side-by-side for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other's company in silence. Lucien tapped your knee twice before declaring he walk you out before your journey. He wrapped a loose arm around your shoulders, “I will be here when you get back.” He squeezed you into his side.

Reaching the last step Azriel was there waiting for you, he gave Lucien a nod before looking away to give you and your brother privacy. You squeezed his middle, “You better.”

He gave you a kiss on your forehead, “Stay safe, sister.”

“Goodbye brother,” You whispered back to him before he disappeared into thin air. Cassian came out of the kitchen and nodded for you to come to him.

Once in the kitchen Cassian peeked out of the door and spoke in a hushed tone, “Listen, I know it’s gonna be hard but the only way this plan will work is if you both find a way to set aside your differences and learn how to communicate.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair giving him an exasperated look, you thought he was going to give you some advice or something more useful than a lecture. “Unlike him, I believe I can be civilized. Besides we’re about to have plenty of bonding time.”

You caught him wince at the word bonding, “Let’s hope so.”

“Was that it?” You asked. Cassian hummed in response and with a finger flicked your head up by your chin.

“Remember Y/n, don’t hesitate. Hesitate and you're dead.” The same advice he gave you throughout training, a feat you had consistent trouble with; hesitation. You were decent, despite being out of shape with the lack of training and with what little you knew of combat. Illyrian training was different than what you were used to but it was better and you learned enough to be of use if you were needed. Maybe a little clumsy and lacked some confidence in your skills but in a life-or-death situation you expected your survival instincts would kick in.

He guided you to where Azriel was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his knife.

~~~

Winnowing to the dawn court went smoothly. You and Azriel winnowed separately, neither of you willing to touch each other, opting to travel alone rather than conserve energy to save time. The first big jump had you stopping for a break at the Day Court, you felt your power falter, the surge of fire from earlier draining you a little. The law of your power, where one of your powers is strong the others weaken.

You stopped by a lake for water, careful of your surroundings. A quick minute stop and when you had winnowed away to the point on the other side of the border where you knew to meet Azriel, he had given you an earful.

“Where were you?” His tone was nothing short of accusatory.

“I felt like I needed a short break so I stopped for some water,” You spoke casually so as not to alarm the always-on-edge spymaster. It took a toll on your patience but you needed him to be calm.

His eyes were narrow as he stared you down, “Where?”

“Near Day Court border Azriel, Where else?”

“Specifically where did you stop for water?” He pushed, “Shocking there were no sentries nearby.”

“I assure you whatever your mind conjured up about my whereabouts, is not true.”

“I just find it curious how you were not intercepted,” He crossed his arms and tilted his head “unless there is something that you’re not telling me.”

You were beginning to feel anxious by his interrogation, you didn’t have anything to hide but this felt familiar in the ways your brothers would question you after a night out or worse when you were on your little missions for them. Tamlin would do the same, jealous even though you knew he never truly loved you. Even when he had Feyre.

“I told you all there is to know,” You grit your teeth. “We’re wasting time on this useless topic when we would have been at Dawn already.”

“I don’t trust you.” He begins to walk in the direction of the border of the Dawn Court.

“Oh really?” Your voice is frivolous as you follow him, “I hadn’t gathered that. I can feel your shadows, they are not as obscure as you think they are. Even so, I have nothing to prove to you Shadowsinger.”

His jaw clenches, “You somehow have fooled everyone in my court that you are innocent but I will find a way to break you Firewielder.”

“And you will fail,” You stop walking when you step in front of him, blocking his way. “You think of me as some villain Azriel when I am just someone who is trying to get by in whatever way, whatever place I can. That is all I have been trying to do, all I have ever done. Gods, if your High Lady could forgive me, why can’t you?”

“You have caused my High Lady enough harm,” He says simply and starts to walk again but you block his path. “You do not deserve the forgiveness, Rhysand and Feyre have so graciously granted you.”

“I have paid for my sins just as I’m sure you have and will continue to do so, I do not need a constant reminder of my fuckups any more than you do.” Your words were like venom, you may not know all of what the Shadowsinger was made of but the whispers throughout the world of what he does to people, rumor or no- you knew would haunt him til the end of his days. “You are no better than I am Spymaster, you should do well to remember that next time you sink that knife into someone’s flesh.”

An astonished look featured on his chiseled face, you’d wager no one but his brothers dared to speak to him in such a way. You weren’t one to speak so flippantly, but Azriel brought out a side of you that you had to admit you reveled in. You hadn’t felt as strong as when you let all your anger out on him. Your brothers, your father, and Tamlin had made you cower into yourself so much so that you didn’t dare argue. Azriel lit a fire within you that fueled you to shed the weaker parts of your soul and fight back.

~~~

You were within the walls of the Dawn Court castle only minutes after your discussion with Azriel. Not a word was spoken after you said your peace, you stood next to each other with a generous amount of space between you as you waited for someone to attend to you at the front steps of the palace.

A friendly face appeared from behind the doors urging you both to come inside, the healer of the Dawn Court was a long-time friend of yours. You hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years yet her countenance was still the same. She hugged you in greeting and gave the Shadowsinger a nod.

“The High Lord is otherwise engaged unfortunately but he sends his regards and me of course,” Nuan clutched your arm that was already looped around hers. “I’ll be showing you to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” You smiled. Azriel repeated what you had said and followed close behind you. She guides you through a series of hallways with large pillars framing the view of the mountains.

“It’s not a problem, though I do ask that you join me for dinner tonight.” She pauses in front of a door, she’s still holding your arm so you assume this is Azriels room. “Both of you, it’ll be at that restaurant in town that we used to go to Y/n, you know the one.”

You nodded with pursed lips, “Yes, I do but I’m sure Azriel has other ideas on how he’d like to spend his night.” You tried to hint at her to leave him alone, you needed a break from him and his attitude.

“I’ll be there.” Was all Azriel said before bowing his head at her and closing himself in his room for the night.

Nuan raised her brows at you with a slightly agape mouth, dragging you through the long corridor lined with near-opalescent golden stone pillars. Once she had shown you your room a couple of doors down from Azriels, she shut the door behind her. “I had to give you this room so that I can talk to you without him hearing, Cauldron that male is astonishingly gorgeous.”

You snorted, “For a bat.”

She placed her hands on her hips, “Now I know damn well you have taste, Y/n and I know that you wholeheartedly agree with me.”

“I might have once upon a time, I’ve changed.” You smirked and strolled around the room, taking it all in. Your room had a balcony overlooking one of the many gardens, you would have chosen to stay at the Dawn Court if given the opportunity.

“Surely not because of the husband!” Nuan gasped. She reminded you of the one you were fake married to, Fae cannot lie but when one is desperate, the loopholes you find are wild.

You raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, “No, of course not.”

She walked toward you and reached out with her mechanical hand tracing the scar on your face, “Do you think he is that superficial? I have seen the scars on his hands Y/n, he is beautiful but not completely unmarred.”

“I forget how forward you are Nu,” You stepped out of her reach. “Have you heard the news of the faebane? It’s traveling all across the lands, the reason why we’re here.”

She nodded grimly, “Yes, I have heard but my information is limited. And you’re deflecting but that’s no matter, we shall continue that topic at dinner.”

“For an alchemist, you sure do like to gossip.” You teased, “You should seek out Azriel before dinner to discuss the faebane situation.”

“Why do you think I’m friends with an emissary? you make the most pleasant company for gossip.” She reached for the door handle and slipped out of the room.

~~~

You forgot how free-flowing Dawn Court fashion is, as you dressed you felt yourself grow self-conscious. The dress exposed your thighs, arms, and stomach with shibari-like knots around the torso and neck with layered sheer nude material covering. A huge difference from what you were wearing before. You reminded yourself of the fact that the fae of the Dawn Court were not judgmental people and they made dresses like this for all shapes and sizes and they saw every being as radiant. They were peaceful and kind and as you walked into the restaurant, you and Nuan had found one night, Azriel was sitting there in conversation with the dark-haired beauty.

Her dress was similar to yours, and her upturned eyes and olive-toned skin were complimented by the lavender color she was wearing. Azriel was talking intently, the loud chattering of everyone around you clouded your ability to hear what he was saying. Nuan was right, he was gorgeous. Beautiful in a way you could not compare to a male or female, he was otherwordly.

You scolded yourself mentally, as beautiful as he may be, his personality was not. His calculated, smooth-toned, encapsulating speech- your mind wandered again. You could not catch a break from him. Mentally or physically and you were sick of it. With a huff, you lifted the hem of your dress so that it would not catch onto your heel and strutted over to the table where Azriel was out of his chair and holding it out for you to take his place.

In the time you took to admire him from the entrance, you failed to see that they were sitting at a table for two. There was room for two more but you’d have to steal a chair from another table and he had given his chair to you. Your eyes flickered from the chair to him and hesitantly took a seat, he tucked you into the table, and you didn’t miss the way Nuan’s lips turned up on one side.

He pulled up a chair and sat. A Cheshire grin spread upon Nuan’s face, immediately nerves took over you.

“Now that we’re done exchanging information,” She nodded once to Azriel and directed her attention to you. “Y/n about that husband, how is he?”

Your jaw ticked, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t speak to him.”

She hummed, “Interesting. And your brother is he well?”

“Yes, he is, though I suspect you know that considering he visits you often.”

Her laugh came out in a bark, Azriel's eyes and shadows watched you two in a dance, silently observing your postures and hidden messages. He wouldn’t understand the game you and Nuan played, especially not the one Nuan was playing right now, you were beginning to lose track of yourself.

“So Tamlin is completely out of the picture now?” She went back to her original target. You coughed a little bit of the water you sipped a second before she asked. “No, Nuan.” You cursed. “I live in the night court now, everything's changed.”

“Just curious, Y/n/n-” She said lightheartedly. “Do you live there with him?” She glanced at the male sitting next to you. So this is what she wanted to know.

Azriels eyes widened, “Absolutely not!” You both exclaimed at the same time, creating looks coming from nearby tables.

“Apologies, really I thought you two were together, possibly in secret. I got a sense that you both were involved, please forgive me.” Nuan’s cheeks reddened as she stammered her apology.

You were entirely upset knowing that she was embarrassed by her display. You switch the topic as smoothly as you could, asking about how the faebane works and if there was any way she could create an antidote without knowing the exact ingredients in the newer version. She answered each question with ease, Azriel asked a few of his own and finished up the conversation they were having earlier about the theories on who could have made it. At that time your dinner was cleared, and the three of you lingered to pay for your meal.

“Excuse me, I believe I see a patient of mine who isn’t doing what he’s supposed to-” Nuan rushed out of her seat to an older-looking male.

You caught Azriels stare when you turned back into your chair. He looked pensive as he opened his mouth to speak, “How did you and Nuan…”

“Meet? Under the mountain.” You responded though you weren’t so sure why considering you still wanted to be petty for his interrogation. “She healed and made Lucien's eye, also helped me heal when I got the scar.”

A few moments of silence.

“I’d like to-” He cleared his throat “I’d like to apologize for earlier.”

Your eyes search his in suspicion, he continues. “I should have believed you. My shadows told me that you were speaking the truth and I didn’t believe you.”

“I have had enough overbearing males in my life dictating my life and questioning my every move without you being added to the list.”

“I’m trying Y/n,” He sighed clenching the table napkin.

“By telling me that your shadows tried to plead my case and even then you wouldn’t believe me?”

“When you put it that way.” He breathed out a laugh, the closest one you’ve ever heard from him that was meant for your ears. It was a small gesture, one that did not go unnoticed by you. Around you, he was always so tense.

“What is it then?” You inquire, “Do you hate me or could we call a truce?”

“As if you could hold your tongue for long enough for me not to hate you.”

You allowed yourself a small smile, “You are truly unrelenting, if this is how you are with me I wonder how are with the people you bring to your chamber.”

“You talk of my work with so much ease,” He grimaced. “You wouldn’t be able to actually stomach it.”

The humor that hung in the air was gone, you sensed a challenge. “I can’t do what you do but I am not afraid of you Shadowsinger.”

His hazel eyes beheld yours, exploring them, you weren’t sure what he was searching for but the intensity with which he stared unnerved you. “If you weren’t the sister of the male I despise the most and if you weren’t once married to the one who caused my lady so much grief, I could be inclined to like you.” His smooth low toned voice was hypnotic.

You reached for your glass of wine, the energy too much for you to take sober taking a sip before replying “If you weren’t such an insufferable bastard, I could be inclined to say the same.”

“I still don’t trust you,” Azriel said slyly.

You rolled your eyes, “Do you have mind healers in Velaris? Cause you desperately need one, you all do.”

That brought out a deep laugh from him, you looked at him in awe at the melody that came from his mouth and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time. Your stare fixed upon his smile, bright and angelic made your heart jump. He was suddenly aware of you and the wall he had when he was around you built up again.

Your mind felt the need to know if what he said earlier was true, “Is that really why you hate me?”

“You can’t just let a moment be, can you Firewielder?” He no longer carried that sharp grin that had you melting for a second.

“I am not my brother, Eris I mean, what he’s done. I have no part in it.”

He nodded slowly, “Now tell me why you hate me.”

You picked at your cuticle as you spoke- a nervous human habit that you picked up throughout your years. “I don’t. I don’t particularly like you but you have done nothing but make my life miserable since the moment you rescued us from the ice and every moment after that.”

You were being chased by your brothers along with Feyre and Lucien when Cassian and Azriel had come to Feyre's aid. That was when you had found out that Feyre was the High Lady of the Night Court when you and Lucien had been brought to Velaris and saw the city you’ve grown to love. It was the start of everything. Before and after the war.

You and Lucien were appointed as emissaries to the night court, Lucien had his assignments and you had yours. You served as both emissary and spy (occasionally), while Lucien had to send bi-weekly reports to Azriel, you had to report to him for every single assignment unless specified otherwise by the High Lord. This is the cause of the clash you had with the Spymaster.

That day was the only day you had peace from him, if only because nobody in the inner circle had warmed to your presence yet.

“My whole life I’ve heard of the monstrous fae who served the Night Court, the Court of Nightmares was real to me but I was never afraid of the stories- of you. All you did was prove that the stories were true, like the act you all put on when you go there, is real.”

“You should know that I do not find it easy to be around you Y/n.” You were about to ask him what he meant when Nuan’s figure came into view, pulling a lesser fae male along with her.

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Damian- Damian this is the friend I told you about.” Nuan shoved him your way as you stood, you stumbled into him and he steadied you by your elbows. “I took care of the bill by the way, I told Damian he should walk you to the palace. Azriel and I still have loads to discuss.”

You smiled shyly at the blond-haired guy in front of you and turned your head to where Azriel was once sitting, you were about to protest but Nuan was already dragging Azriel out the door. You appreciated your friend's efforts to set you up with the attractive male that was nothing short of a gentleman as he made easy conversation during the walk to the palace, but after dinner with Azriel, this guy wasn’t going to cut it. It would be too easy for you to bring him up to your room and spend the night with him but you were on a job and you were not going to give Azriel another to scold you. 

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist: @americancowgirl19 - @feyres-fireheart - @brekkershadowsinger - @marina468

[lavendersartistry]

I didn't expect this one post about the fandom to hit this high and still get notifs about it.

I made this at the start of 2024 so may as well update my opinions before 2025.

This will NOT be under the main cotl tag, but a special tag (cult of the lamb critical) because it's good etiquette to tag your posts properly.

With that being said:

LAVENDER'S 2024 TED TALK OF COTL FANDOM.

(Check UTC)

OKAY. So I'm taking from my January post + other critical points and updating my initial thoughts of the fandom.

Death and the Archivist has been long gone and has been forgotten. Check my COTL Blog for the better AUs.

The fandom still tends to pull a blind eye and do "Narilamb AU #7899" but to me personally, it's not much of a personal problem. It still clogs the main tag (much like how DCA clogs the main FNAF tag).

The only thing that probably has stayed is the inappropriate jokes regarding the Sins of the Flesh update. Mainly the ones that force Narinder to the mating tent (we'll get to that section in a bit, same goes for the infantilization bit).

Again, Death and the Archivist doesn't exist anymore.

My point still stands. I much rather see content of AUs that focus on how people can interpret the game as it is (the Lamb claiming revenge for their kind because of a prophecy caused by Narinder's ambition to cheat death) rather than a AU that is Narilamb with no interesting aspect. This is why I like the Gang/Mafia AUs people do for Narilamb. They interpret that the dynamics are going to be a wild rollercoaster, Narilamb-focused or not.

Another point that still stands. I still never get how people look at the implied atrocities the bishops have done to not only the Lamb's species but to other creatures and think they are innocent then turn and put Narinder in situations such as abuse and torture. It is a really sour taste.

sighs in wtf was my early 2024 braincells were writing

It may be just me but I look heavily at the details the game offers (ex: Sozo's shroom addiction). These aspects of the game can work immensely for AUs but the fandom, at least a good portion of it, doesn't explore it because it can't fit in their Narilamb puzzle. It's a personal gripe.

The other points like woobifying characters, not making ocs interesting, and not placing more attention to other NPCs that no one gives more a fuck about are either personal gripes that I can't set a opinion on or can't comment.

Remember that the abuse/torture tags are here for a reason and this is the moment where I explain my big gripe with the fandom about this.

I very much hate this part of the fandom and I took a VERY LONG break when these "jokes" came out when Sins of the Flesh announced/released. These "jokes" were never funny to begin with. They're gross and those who make these "jokes" need serious help.

I am not a survivor but I have seen how insensitive people can be about survivors. I am ashamed to be in the same space as these insensitive people.

This is a big gripe with the fandom as a whole. I love Narilamb (certain interpretations) like the next person but they are becoming the next "DCA clogs the FNAF tag" issue. Narilamb isn't the only thing this game provides. Broaden your horizons.

There is possibly more around here in the critical tag that I haven't put in this post but just scroll through.

All in all, this fandom is fine. It just has its moments where people get really weird and you need to take a break from the fandom because of seeing disgusting shit like Bishop x Bishop or Narinder abuse/torture in the tags or in reblogs of people you follow.

That's my TED Talk. I am off to get some work done about my fellow OC x Canon lesbians.

[maryannecrimsworth]

Headcanons

Guide for tormented hearts

Just some ideas I gathered for The Hunt [Ao3] and You do need a friend

Hank is Y/N's older brother and main character of The Hunt.

OC! Hank Hunter(L/N) x Selective mute! Reader

Foster siblings. What a curse, what a blessing — to know you’re not alone in the world anymore, and to know that the person who accompanies you is him. Y/N hates it at first, but, for Hank, his whole world changed when he saw his little brother. 

Hank was 10; Y/N was 7. You were mute, motionless, eyes cold and distant when they first brought you to the camp. “A new prey”, Hank's parents told him shortly before the full moon came,”but you have to keep him alive.”. It wasn’t necessary: Hank didn’t have to heal you; on the first night, you fought. As intensively as you did in the first month, in the first year. You survived. But, after that, Y/N stopped. Completely.

They, the Hunters(L/Ns) were doing to you what they did to Hank — turning you into a tool, a toy, a lamb. You could only talk, sleep and eat when they ordered. But you have stopped doing it too, and then Hank really needed to keep you alive.

First, you stopped eating. You didn’t want to: you were going to throw it all out anyway, you couldn’t help it. Fear took over you every night, and your stomach churned until it was empty. However, Hank managed to calm you down: he learned to control his curse because of you, and used it to save you. 

Second, you stopped sleeping. You didn’t want to: the Alp would appear, you would be gone, and the nightmares would be waiting for you the moment you’d wake up. You became skinner, weaker, more fragile than ever before. Barely alive. Hank created a potion to make you sleep, and his mother soon started to use it too.

Never. That’s how often you spoke: never. He spent years without knowing your voice, listening to nothing but groans, roars, and cries from you. You weren’t able to speak to anyone, you only did when the Hunters(L/Ns) told you to. (But they never did.) 

Hank, however, found ways to know you even though all the abuse, torture and hunting surrounding your daily lives. He noticed how you scratched yourself as the dusk approached; how you tilted your head when he joked; how your fingers and feet tapped when the slightest trace of music could be heard. 

He then learned, by his parents, that your father was a gardener, and your mother was the Hexe, the lady from the shed. She was a part of the Lycantophry camp, but Hank didn’t actually know her: he heals the wounded, she vanishes with them — that’s all he knows. For some reason, you don’t know her either, and you can’t say a word to her, to your own mother.

But she’s the reason why you first spoke to him. Hank’s mother and he went to your cell to make you sleep; the potion was ready, you were chained up and gagged, but, this time, the Hexe was also in the room. It was the first time they stayed in the same room, the Hexe and Hank. And it was the first time he saw what happened after you fell asleep. The Alp emerged, Y/N vanished, and Hank was kicked out the cell as soon as the night-elf attacked the witch. When he came back the next morning, you were bruised, scarred, trembling and crying nonstop. “Hilf mir” you begged while Hank unlocked your chains “bitte.”. Help me, please, he understood right away. And he did it right away. 

You started to help each other during the huntings after that, the communication flawless as you placed traps around the woods and he healed the werewolves that were after you. You hated it, but it was his job, and he made you feel as little pain as possible. 

You started to learn more about each other. He learned you liked to sing; you learned he liked to look at the stars. He gave you a mandolin; you found a clearing in the forest to watch the sky together during the night. You learned he knew everything about plants, he learned you didn’t. You preferred poems and tales, he preferred theater and history; Hank preferred the flute, Y/N preferred the guitar. He liked to dance, you didn’t. After a while, he didn’t have to use this curse in order to calm you down, and you could tell what he was thinking with just a look. Your little arguments — not many, but a few because Hank would get worn out eventually — were always solved with a song. Not even a good one, but you would find each other at night, in the dark, humming silently, waiting for the other, and that was your apology. 

That’s how you planned to escape so easily. You would have succeeded at first if not for Rachel.

But then you tried again. A few years later, Hank left, but you were too doneped to notice. Then your parents take you to Jericho, to the Outcast Convention, and he saved you. You can’t remember much before this, but you were so, so happy. You are free, the both of you are.

At least, that’s what you thought.

[thebadtimewolf]

abt my prev tags

look at me in my face

tell me.

if this wasn't a billie piper fc rp blog/thirst blog, would you have really zoom zoom by car company mazda to follow?

to interact as much as we do now?

no.

no you wouldn't.

you say you would because you hope you would but you wouldn't.

some of you actually would and i know who you are but the rest of you lot: no. no you wouldn't. you'll do it for a day or a month and then dip.

why else do you think im on @thebadtimewolf and @themadvigilantist the most? because all of yall are over there.

not at @pennybraddock

not at @egyptroyal

and if you are there at the latter, you only came over when i added canon yt muses like donna and the doctor and the moment pre-timeless child.

or at the literal sideblog @drbabygirl

like i got more people following the sideblog than the blog its attached to because i got two now three or four canon yt characters that people want to rp with instead of the poc oc-stemmed-from-another-canon character.

like the evidence is evident.

'why am i posting this over here instead of xyz' because y'all. are. over. here.

happy juneteenth yall.

its my 13th time celebrating it on tumblr but my first celebrating it as a federal holiday!

[nothing-but-dreamy]

SECRET LOVE

Pairing: DBH!Connor X OC!Character

Words: 3.636

Warnings: smut, dominance (nothing too heavy), slightly rough Connor

Summary: Kat is a detective of the DPD and secretly dating one of her colleagues for a few weeks. After a long day, the only thing she is yearning for is a nice evening with her boyfriend to forget about all the idiots in the world. But sometimes ‘nice’ is not the wanted thing.

02. January 2039

05:26:07 PM

… and the only thing Kat wanted was a coffee, a hot shower, pizza and maybe watching a movie… But instead she pushed a junky around she had arrested thirty minutes ago as he was dealing nearby an elementary school.

The junky grunted as he stumbled forward, a bit clumsy on his feet, “Come on, sweetheart, be a bit more cautious with me. There is still a chance for the two of us to work out. I mean after everything we went through so far.”

“I don’t think so, asshole.”, Kat muttered and pushed the guy further through the department to put him finally into one of the detention cells. It was a pity that the cells had electrical doors nowadays, otherwise, she just could throw the key away.

“But darling-”

“Shut the fuck up and move.”, Kat spitted and pushed him around once again.

“You need help there, hon?”, Gavin asked with a lopsided smirk while he leant casually against his desk with crossed arms and legs.

Kat rolled with her eyes. That was another asshole she didn’t need right now. Not after such a long day. “No, thanks, I’m fine. There’s no need for you to get your hands dirty.”, Kat fired back.

“Oh, but Kat, I would love to get my hands dirty...with you. If you just could read my mind right now-”

“Then, I’m sure, I would puke straight into your ugly face.”, Kat hissed and was happy to reach the detention cell and to leave Gavin, the biggest asshole of the DPD, behind. Kat pushed the junky into the cell and closed the door with the scan of the palm of her hand.

“But, baby. You can’t leave me alone here. I’m afraid of the dark.”, the junky said with a disgusting smirk.

Kat closed her eyes, breathed in and counted to five to calm herself. She really needed the end of the work day or … her boyfriend.

“Hey, Chris! Where's Hank?”, Kat asked as she stopped by the abandoned desks of Hank and Connor. Neither the Lieutenant nor the android were around.

“They brought a suspect in ten minutes ago. I guess they’re still in the interrogation room.”, Chris answered and turned back to his own work. Kat considered if she should just wait til they were done or if she should visit them. She looked quickly around, her eyes fell on Gavin who spoke to a colleague. If he would see her sitting around alone, he would come over to her - the last thing she wanted.

So, Kat decided to sneak into the interrogation room. An officer sat at the desk and controlled the camera and the microphone. Hank sat next to him and observed the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. Kat closed the door softly but Hank noticed her nevertheless. He greeted her with a quick nod before he looked back ahead to his partner.

Kat knew about their latest case. An android had killed its owner and they had searched for it for a while. Since the successful revolution, these kinds of attacks were rare but they happened from time to time. Hank and Connor were still assigned to these cases and now, as they had found the suspect, it was Connor’s turn to question the android.

Connor wore still his grey jacket and his typical white suit shirt underneath but the android markings were gone. The blue band around his arm and the android label on his back were both removed. He was no longer property of CyberLife but he got used to the style of clothes, so he had decided to keep them. Even the black tie was still around his neck. Kat liked to watch the android no matter what he did.

That was one of the reasons why she had said yes as Connor had asked her out several weeks ago. He had been nervous as hell, Kat had seen it in his eyes and his insecure expression but she had said yes and till now, it was the best decision she had ever made when it came to men. To date an android was interesting and new. She had expected it to be more awkward but there was nothing that felt uncomfortable with him.

Connor was extremely nice, the complete difference to all her ex-boyfriends before. He acted as a real gentleman and treated her right. Always. Til this day, Kat didn’t regret getting into a relationship with Connor. But they kept it secretly to avoid any unwanted attention - mostly of Gavin who already had made it to his personal mission to torture Connor whenever he could. It is not for nothing that Kat always called him Detective 'douchebag' Reed.

Kat enjoyed watching Connor interview a suspect. She had seen it several times before but each time, she was amazed by his skill to get a confession. Sure, his analyzing program was helpful to find clues before the suspect even spoke a word but it was for his special ability to piece these information together in no time that made the difference.

"Is this the android who killed its owner? Have you found it finally?", Kat asked curiously. Hank nodded.

"At least, that's what the eye witnesses said. They saw it running away but it came back one night. Maybe Connor will get something out of it.", Hank explained and Kat was sure the android would be successful. She was glad that she came to the right moment.

Connor sat across the suspect, an MC500 model. An android for paramedic purposes. The victim had been a dealer, maybe there was a connection. But this one android was rigged up with dirty skin and clothes which were damaged. This model reminded Kat always of a Ken-like guy but this one seemed to be living on the street or it had experienced some bad times.

Connor considered the best approach. He considered a friendly way to gain his trust but the android in front of him seemed to have experienced a few rough things so, maybe, it wouldn't be impressed by kindness and wouldn't fall for it. The android's right arm was covered with deep scars which were glowing blue and even its chest seemed to be damaged, visible through the shrewd fabric. The best way would be a more aggressive one. Maybe if he would scare it, it would talk more easily.

Kat watched how Connor skimmed through the case file and the pictures with his long, slender fingers. She saw him stopping at some pictures, probably searching for the right way to start.

Several minutes passed before Connor looked at the handcuffed android. "What's your name?", Connor asked directly to start the interview slowly. His smooth voice sounded like honey and Kat was looking forward to seeing her boyfriend doing his job. After this rough day of chasing a junky through half of Detroit’s city, she needed some eye candy.

"So, you want to stay silent, huh?", Connor said and stood up more aggressively than necessary. With crossed arms, he walked around the table and towered above the other android. He looked down at it with a stern expression. His brows were drawn together and his brown eyes were gleaming darkly. Suddenly, Connor freed his hands and slammed them violently on the metal surface of the table. The booming sound echoed through the interrogation room and Kat jumped a little. Surprised, she watched how Connor lowered towards the android to be on the same level while he was still towering him.

"Just because androids aren't slaves anymore doesn't mean that you can run around and kill humans.", Connor grunted deeply. "You're accused of murder,", he said low but threatening, "Crimes like this will be punished. You hear me?", Connor asked, still very threatening.

With huge eyes, Kat watched how Connor grabbed the android by its collar to pull it up to his eye level.

"Do you hear me? I swear you will be sent back to CyberLife." he threatened. "They will switch you off and tear you apart piece by piece!", he screamed into the android's face. The android winced and shuddered. But Connor just tightened his grip on the fabric. "You're just a fucking murderer! A cold blooded piece of shit who killed an innocent human!", Connor spat poisonously and let the android drop back on its chair.

With an open mouth, Kat looked shocked at Connor who had cursed in front of her for the first time. He acted aggressive. He screamed. He became physical. She had never seen him like this before. Her mind was racing to process what she had seen and heard. His voice was dark, deep and demanding. He was dominant and the boss in this room who showed off his power. Kat was speechless and became… turned on.

"I… I don't want to be destroyed…", the android whispered weakly.

But Connor didn't seem to be impressed. Instead, he waited and stared down at the android unemotional. He waited a few more moments before he slammed his hands on the surface again. "I don't care what you want! The victim also didn't have a chance to decide if he wanted to die or not. You took that chance from him!", Connor said low but powerful.

This low voice shot goosebumps down Kat's spine.

"But just because he attacked me first!", the android screamed back desperately to explain himself and that was the breaking point. Connor sat back on his place across the android and listened to the confession. Hank was also listening but Kat had difficulties to follow the interrogation. Several times, she tried to concentrate but her mind was always drifting back to the demanding voice and rough behavior of Connor.

Kat felt that something rose inside her. She knew the hot feeling that rose deep in her core all too well. And she knew the reason behind that feeling: Connor. Connor had turned her on so much with his aggressive way that she wasn't able to concentrate anymore.

Kat sneaked out of the room. Neither Hank nor the officer had noticed her disappearance. In the hallway, she leant against the wall next to the door and stemmed her hands into her sides. She tried to calm her thoughts but intense pictures were running in front of her eyes and fueled her lust even more. Her mind was running wild.

Several minutes later, the door opened and awoke Kat from her trance. The officer left the room with the android and Hank by its side. Connor followed them. Kat grabbed Connor by his arm to pull him towards her.

"Oh, hey, Kat- what's wrong?", Connor asked, concerned as he saw Kat's dark eyes.

But she just dragged the puzzled Connor after her, down the hallway and slipped into the next available room.

"That's the male bathroom, Kat.", Connor explained softly but she pressed her hand over his mouth.

"I don't care.", Kat said low. She saw the confusion in Connor's eyes. "I saw you. During the interrogation. What was that?"

"What do you mean?", Connor asked with a raised brow.

"You were cursing! You were aggressive and dominant. I had no idea you could be like this!"

"It was a tactic to approach the suspe-", Connor explained matter of factly.

Kat stopped him from speaking once again. "I don't care, Connor. You turned me extremely on with this behavior and for ten minutes, I can't think of anything else than how you acted in this room.", Kat whispered low but heavy. Connor noticed her aroused manner. Slowly, Kat removed her hand from his mouth.

"So, you liked that, huh?", Connor asked low and straightened himself to his full height.

Kat nodded slowly with a lopsided smirk. She moved her hands up and down his chest but Connor reacted quickly.

He grabbed her wrists and pressed her against the door with his lower body while he shoved her hands above her head. "You like it rough, baby girl?", he asked with a deep voice and dark eyes. Connor watched how she gnawed on her lower lip while she was nodding. Connor lowered his head but stopped inches from her lips to tease her. Kat tried to escape his hands but he just tightened the grip. Only then, he crashed his lips on hers for a hungry kiss.

Kat moaned and arched her back to greet his chest with her breasts. Connor understood the hint and changed his grip around her hands. With one hand, he held both of her wrists while he stroked along her side with his right hand. Teasingly and very slowly, he slid his fingers down her ribcage to her hip. Then, he slipped underneath her shirt and stroked up to her chest. Kat's breath quickened as Connor reached her breast to squeeze it softly. Kat enjoyed it and let her head fall back against the door.

Connor took the chance and bit into her neck with the right amount of pressure to make her moan again.

"Connor…", she whispered raspy with closed eyes.

"Yes? What can I do for you?", he asked but his voice was filled with dominance.

"I- I need you…", she breathed low and Connor released her hands. Kat took the opportunity and dug her fingers into his soft hair. She looked into his eyes. A cheeky smirk played on his lips. Before Kat could say anything, Connor grabbed her ass, raised her up and brought her over to the sink to place her there on top. Kat snaked her legs around his waist, grabbed his tie and pulled him down to kiss him passionately. Both his hands worked his way up and down her body while Kat rolled her hips against him to increase the friction.

Connor dug his fingers into Kat's long, braided hair and pulled her head back to get a good spot on her neck. He kneaded her breast and played with her hardened nipple through the fabric which caused her to moan his name once again. He kissed up and down her neck before he bit down.

"Uh… not that strong…", Kat cried out but her voice was filled with pure lust.

"I just want to make sure that you know that you're mine. And only mine.", Connor whispered husky against her skin.

"I.. I'm just yours, Connor.", Kat admitted raspy.

"Well, that didn't sound very convincing.", Connor said and stepped back from Kat who was already a mess. Her hair was tousled, her lips were swollen and her clothes askew.

As she saw Connor stepping away from her, she was shocked. Kat jumped from the sink and stepped forward to reach him but Connor stepped back until she stopped.

"Turn around.", Connor commanded low. His eyes held an arrogant expression.

"W-what?", Kat asked, confused. She was overwhelmed by the situation. By his dominant way and his strong voice.

"I said, turn around!", he said, more demanding than before.

Kat followed his instructions. She turned around and stood in front of the mirror. She looked at herself and untied her hair because the braided tail was already disheveled. Connor closed up to her from behind. And Kat watched him through the mirror coming closer.

"Look at me!", Connor said deeply into Kat's left ear. Just his voice shot goosebumps down her spine and she shuddered, already filled with lust. Connor towered behind her and stroked over her hips to the button of her jeans to open it. He opened the zipper slowly to slip his right hand inside.

Kat's knees started to wobble as she felt Connor's hand slowly moving forward down her slip. As he touched it, Kat felt how soaked the fabric already was.

"Oh, you're really in this mood, aren't you, baby girl?", Connor whispered.

Kat nodded while she bit down on her lower lip. She squirmed against his chest the longer he teased her over the fabric. As Kat started to roll with her hips to grind her ass against him, Connor moved his hand underneath the fabric of the soaked slip. Kat cried out with relish as she felt Connor's fingers sliding between her folds. He stopped his moves and placed his other hand over her mouth.

"You have to be more quiet or someone will hear us. If you're too loud I fear I have to stop. Got it?", Connor asked and removed his hand slowly to move it down to her neck. His long fingers were laying softly around her throat. "Say it!", he demanded with his lips sliding on the outer rim of Kat's ear.

"I have to be more quiet. Please, continue…", Kat begged desperately what caused Connor to grin.

He waited a few more seconds and concentrated on Kat's rapid heartbeat and her erratic pulse caused by him. Her chest was moving uneven and she was shuddering against him. Very slowly, Connor slipped two of his fingers back into her. Kat's hot core was dripping wet and his fingers were covered in seconds. "You feel that?", Connor whispered as he pushed his fingers a bit deeper inside her.

"Y-yes…", Kat nodded and whimpered low to stay quiet.

Connor looked Kat in the eyes through the mirror. "That's me inside of you, Kat.", he said smirking and pushed deeper. "I know how much you love my hands on your body.", he said low and moved his left hand to her breast to knead it slowly. "And my fingers inside of you like this.", he continued and pumped into her again.

Each time he did that, Kat shuddered more and more. She felt her core tightening.

Connor noticed that she was close, so he removed his hand a bit to extend the moment. "Kat", Connor said to get her attention, "Tell me you're mine.", he demanded, breathing against her ear. She looked him straight in the brown eyes which were sparkling darkly.

"I-I'm yours…", Kat whispered low between two heavy breaths.

"I can't hear you. What did you say, baby girl?", Connor asked innocently. But his dark voice compared with the nickname gave her goosebumps again.

"I'm just yours, Connor.", Kat said more clearly.

"Exactly, you are just mine! No one else is allowed to touch you! Got it?", Connor said as a statement and Kat had to obey.

"I said: got it?", Connor asked again, smirking and slipped his hand back down her slip.

"Yes…", Kat breathed husky as she felt Connor's long, slender fingers deep inside of her.

"Repeat it! I want to hear it from your sweet lips.", Connor commanded and pumped rhythmically into her in the way Kat liked the most.

"I-I'm just yours. No one else is allowed to touch me…", Kat repeated breathless.

"Good, baby girl. Now, would you like me to finish you?", he whispered raspy into her ear. He looked Kat straight into her lust filled eyes with a devilish smirk.

"Yes, please. I- I can't take it anymore.", she begged and watched the lopsided smirk growing bigger on his lips.

Connor adjusted the position of his hand and rubbed along her clit while his fingers were pumping steadily into her.

Kat's breath fastened, she closed her eyes while she leant her head back against his chest.

"Fuck damnit, Connor...", Kat moaned raspy as he pumped to her climax.

"Kiss me!", Connor demanded.

Kat's mind was spinning but she managed to turn her head to the right.

Connor crashed his lips on hers in the same moment Kat cried out because of the orgasm washing over her. He continued his moves to intensify the feeling for her even more.

As she stopped being too loud, he left her lips and watched her amazed how she enjoyed her satisfaction with closed eyes.

Kat was still jerking as he removed his hand from her slowly. She leant against the sink to catch her breath. As she was slowly recovering, her heartbeat slowed down and she straightened herself to smooth her clothes.

"Was it good?", Connor asked and smirked as he watched Kat coming clear.

"You have outdone yourself, babe.", Kat said smiling but still a bit breathless. She walked over to her boyfriend and kissed him lovely while she flung her arms around his neck.

"I had no idea you could be like that."

"Yeah...but if I shall be honest, I would like to keep that in the interrogation room.", Connor admitted.

"Well...but from time to time…", Kat said with a wink and let the sentence unspoken.

Connor chuckled, cupped her chin to raise it so he could meet her lips for another sweet and caring kiss.

"I will see you at home?", Connor asked low. Kat looked into his soft brown eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm already looking forward to it.", Kat answered and checked her appearance in the mirror. She smoothed her hair one last time before she went to the door to step out. "Watch it, dipshit!", Kat snapped as she left the bathroom. She pushed Gavin aside who looked confused at her as he was about to enter the restroom.

"Wrong restroom, you idiot!", Gavin called out and shook his head. Kat's only response to him was showing her middle finger while she went into the kitchen for a coffee. Gavin was about to open the door to the restroom once again as the next person stepped out and almost crashed into him.

"Watch i-", Gavin started but stopped as he noticed Connor in front of him who fixed the knot of his tie while he walked through the door.

"Detective Reed.", Connor said politely with a nod and passed a speechless looking Gavin to go back to his desk.

"But- what the hell.", he muttered, confused before he entered the restroom finally.

[musicshylover]

Unrequited Love Final Part

Pairing: Jason DiLaurentis x OC

Genre: Fluff

Summary: After confessing their love for each other, Ami and Jason finally got together. They then decided to leave Rosewood together and years later, they promised each other they would stay together forever.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the images and the pretty little liars characters or the storylines. They belong to Marlene King and Sara Shepard.

As the couple pulled away from their hug, Ami averted her eyes to the ground shyly. Her face was flushing from both the fever and the confession made by the boy.

Jason looked at the girl and chuckled softly. He grabbed her hands in his which made her look up at him.

”I would like for us to become official but first I want to get the approval from your parents and friends.” 

Ami smiled softly and replied, “Jason, it is my decision if I want to be in a relationship with you. I’m sure my parents and friends would come around the idea of us being together, even if they don’t approve us now.”

However, Jason was determined. He shook his head and said, “After everything you have done for me, I want to get the permission from the people you love to give me a chance to love you and to protect your smile. In the past, it was you looking out for me and bringing happiness into my life. So now, it is my turn. I want to be the shoulder you can lean on and to be with you through the bits and pieces of life.”

Ami’s heart warmed, hearing the words from the boy. “I’m sure my friends and family would definitely approve of you if they heard what you just said.” 

The couple smiled lovingly at each other before Ami’s expression fell as she held the side of her head. The pain from the headache had gotten worse. Jason noticed this and immediately lifted the girl into his arms.

Ami let out a surprised shriek and blushed, “I…I could walk by myself…”

”With a swollen ankle and a headache?” Jason asked as he raised his eyebrows.

Ami sighed, knowing it would not change a thing protesting to the boy. Jason carried her to his car to drive them back to the hospital.

As Jason turned his keys and started the engine of his car to drive, he looked over at the pale girl leaning against the window. He sighed and flicked the girl on her forehead gently, “This is what you get for not listening to the doctor and risking your life like that.”

Ami pouted at him, “I was just worried about you… Besides, you don’t get to scold me after you risked your life to see Charles.” Ami folded her arms across her chest and looked away from him like a childish child. 

Jason sighed once again as he frowned, “I knew what I was getting myself into, but what I wanted was just one moment with my own brother. I wanted to ask him the reason why he was torturing you and the girls. It was the only thing I thought of that I could do for you. I wanted to get answers and stop all these torture for you. I was going to persuade him to stop everything and turn himself in.”

Ami looked at the boy as he gripped his steering wheel tightly. His expression had turned sorrow.

She felt bad for the boy and wanted to comfort him.

She placed her hand on his, “Jason, I am sure we will get to the bottom of this together alright? I know you want answers and to help us but I wouldn’t feel any happier if the answers came from you risking your life. I want you to be safe because I love you. I know he is your brother but we cannot be sure that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry to have followed after you but if I were to be honest, I would have done the same if I was given another chance. If there is any chance of you getting hurt, I would definitely go after you. So please promise me no more secret meeting with Charles anymore.”

Jason looked over at Ami, taking in her worried expression. He then finally let out a small smile and nodded his head. “I promise.” He said as he held onto Ami’s hand that was on top of his.

——————————————————————————

(Time skip)

After they went back to the hospital, Ami got scolded by her family and the doctor for leaving the hospital without permission and for making everyone worried. 

Apparently, the hospital had called her mom when a nurse realised she was missing. Her mom and Emily were worried something happened to her or Charles had tried something.

——————————————————————————

Ami was lying on the hospital bed resting after the doctor had treated her ankle and fever. Jason, Emily and her mom were in the room with her.

”Mom, Em, I’m sorry for making you worried. I am fine now.” Ami said, feeling guilty to have them worried about her.

Emily sighed, “I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.” 

Mrs Fields looked at the girl as she said, “I’m just glad that nothing happened to you. I was so worried when the hospital called me. Now I am worried to leave you alone in the hospital so I am going to stay here tonight.”

Ami protested after hearing her mom’s plan to stay, “Mom, you don’t have to, sleeping here is not comfortable. I promise I will not escape again and I will be alright.“

Emily agreed as she said, “Mom, I will stay over to take care of Ami. You should go home and rest.”

”No Emily, you also had a long day today so you should have a good rest. I will stay here.” Mrs Fields said as she looked at her elder daughter.

Emily was about to protest but someone cut in before her. Jason who had been quiet the whole time, watching the interaction between them, spoke up. “Em, Mrs Fields, let me stay. I will take care of Ami and protect her.”

Mrs Fields wanted to turn the boy’s offer down but he spoke again before she could. “Ami got hurt because of me so I feel the responsibility to take care of her.”

Mrs Fields and Emily looked at the boy for a moment before they finally gave in. They had saw the look of love and care in his eyes when he looked at Ami. Thus, they decided to leave them alone and come back in the morning the next day.

After they left, Ami turned to Jason. “You really don’t have to do this. Like I said, it is not very comfortable here.”

Jason smiled at her as he replied, “You would have done the same if our roles were reversed.” Ami didn’t say anything back and looked down at her hands as she knew it was true. She just didn’t want to trouble him.

Jason took one of her hand into his, making her look up at him. “Besides, I promised your mom that I will take care and protect you. Remember it is my turn be here for you.” He said making Ami smile at him.

——————————————————————————

(Time skip)

After all the drama with Charles, he was finally captured and the liars are finally free from his torment. Each of them are going their own way. It was hard to say goodbye to each other after what they have been through together but they knew this will definitely not be the last time they see each other. No matter their distance, they will still think about each other.

After saying final goodbye to the girls and her mom, she got into Jason’s car. Jason looked at her as he asked, “Ready?”

Ami smiled back at him and she nodded.

This was the start of their new life together. Jason had kept to the promise he made to her that day they decided to be with each other. He had went to her house to officially get permission from her family to date her. He had asked for a chance to love Ami and promised to protect her smile forever.

The couple then planned their future together. They had decided to move out of Rosewood and to rent an apartment near the college Ami will be attending together. 

For the next few years, they will be living together and taking care of each other. After everything they have been through, they have learned to treasure each other and they believe that they will be able to take on anything thrown at them as long as they have each other. 

——————————————————————————

(Years later)

Ami had graduated from college. She was still in a stable relationship with Jason. The both of them had been through a lot together, the ups and downs of life. In these few years, Jason had been there for her during her worse. It was hard to cope with the lost of her dad, but Jason had been there to give her a shoulder to cry on and to comfort her.

On the day of their 5th year anniversary, Jason had planned something for her.

Ami had just ended work and as she walked out of her office, she spotted Jason outside leaning against his car door. She smiled as she approached him. “Hey handsome, are you here to take me out on a date?”

Jason chuckled as he opened the car door for her, “Of course princess, I’m going to bring you to a special place.”

“And what place is this exactly?” Ami asked curiously after they got into the car.

Jason smirked as he replied, “It’s a secret!”

Ami pouted hearing his reply but decided against pestering him about it.

——————————————————————————

As they arrived at their location, Jason had got Ami to blindfold and carefully held her hand as he guided her to the surprise he planned for her.

When Jason asked Ami to take off her blindfold, she took it off and scanned her surrounding. The surrounding was dark, she could see the figure of a big tree in the dark but she was confused to why Jason had brought her here. She was about to turn to her boyfriend when the lights on the tree lights up. 

Now as she got the chance to take a close look at the tree, she saw that it was nicely decorated with different coloured lights and a few soft toys. There was also a set of lights that formed a message.

‘I love you, Ami’

Ami’s heart warmed as she looked at the scene in front of her. She blushed as she turned to her boyfriend about to ask what this was for. 

Jason beat her to it, “I love you, Ami.” He repeated the words from the message and proceeded to take something out of his pocket.

Ami’s eyes widened as it processed in her head what Jason was about to do. 

Jason got down on one knee as he opened the ring box to show the ring. “I used to feel jealous of Alison because she was always my parent’s favourite and I always thought how unlucky I am. But you had changed my thoughts. I’m glad to have met you and everyday I wake up feeling lucky to have someone like you by my side. Now, I would like to ask you to be with me for the rest of my life. You are the most important person to me in this world. So Ami Fields, would you marry me?”

A few drop of tears rolled down Ami’s cheek as she nodded her head happily. She was touched by his words and there was no one else she would want to be with for the rest of her life.

Jason slided the ring onto her ring finger. As he stood up, Ami pulled him into a deep kiss. He smiled into the kiss as he placed his hand on her waist to pull her closer.

This was the start of another chapter in their life but they had promised to stick with each other until the very end. They had promised each other that they will be walking step by step together for the rest of their life.

Loving someone is sure not easy, it could hurt you badly but the right person would definitely make you the happiest person on earth. Unrequited love is painful but someday all the love given away by you will surely find their way back to you and stay.

[luminnara]

Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC

I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol

This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun

Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut

This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!

Requests are open!

When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.

You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it. 

Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else. 

You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job. 

If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...

You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price. 

Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it. 

But hey, work was work, right?

That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.

It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.

Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.

“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.

Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”

You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.

As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.

“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.

But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.

As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.

Part of you wondered just how many he had.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”

“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.

Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.

Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.

“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.

“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”

He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it. 

When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him. 

So you did, and the rest was history.

Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse. 

You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to. 

You didn’t know why you had started to care so much. 

You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord. 

Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked. 

He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...

But he couldn’t have it. 

Not yet. 

He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to. 

No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait. 

[not-ur-normie]

Cristal witches, aka Sasha making headcanons for the world of Eldarya

I have this idea since forever at this point, so I figured it wouldn't hurt a fly to talk about it a little. It comes from years before when I wanted my OC to not be human but some kind of magic creature, so here we go.

English is not my first languange, so I am apologizing in advance.

Note: Throughout the post, the timespan is after the Blue Sacrifice, but I will talk about that too later on.

Who are cristal witches?

Cristal witches are witches who hold power connected to maana.

The bigger maana surronds them, the bigger their powers get

The reason they are called cristal witches is because they can form a connection with the Crystal

They are creatures with big potencial to play big roles in Eldarya, but that is exactly the point where things go wrong

More about witches

Most cristal witches are women, it's really rare when a male is born and inherits magical power, but there are cases when it happens

There were never any worry about them dying out, since the genes are VERY strong

When a male and female cristal witch have a child who is also one, they turn out way stronger then the others who only have one parent being one

Don't get me wrong, one parent makes the kid already strong as it is, but two parents are just a whole new level

Cristal witches all have tattoos, all in different colors. Most of the time the colors don't have anything to do with the powers they can hold, but lighter colors indicate lighter powers, meaning: lighter colors can't use magic that requires bigger maana usage, like black magic, or healing magic

(If you play the game, you sure know the voodoo outfit, I based the tattoos on those tattoos, so you can see the colors if you google it)

Since cristal witches are a heavily mixed community thanks to the overload of women, there are times where kids inherit both of their parents specific genetics

It's rare tho, because of the witch genes mixing up with other races' is not that common

But when it happens, it always gains attention

Cristal witches are not just cristal witches because they are connected to the Crystal, but because they literally have crystals all over their body

These crystals are mostly small ones and has the color of the tattoos

They are really human-like, so if they can hide their tattos and crystals they can perfectly blend in, which did come handy at some point

Their lifespan is about 150-200 years

They are able to open the portal to the human world

(here you can see the children of my OC [Chrystal] and Ezarel, who were lucky enough to inherit both of their parents genes, so they are witches with elf ears.)

How did they live?

Back then cristal witches lived in small communities, mostly small villages, but there where some communities living a full nomad life

Since they live so long, there were not many of them to begin with

These smaller communities lived close to each other way back then, but the nomad communities started to move around after a while

These are highly spiritual communities, especially that they are fully able to communicate with the Oracle if they wish so

They had special type of education, where witches were learning to use basic magic, while non-witches who lived with them learned alchemy

They had strict rules, that everybody needed to follow, they weren't allowed to use their power randomly

They needed to get an approval to use magic that requires more manna than your basic magic, and also to use dangerous or risky magic

If somebody went against this rule more than 5 times, they got their magic taken away

They choose new leader every year, although if a leader was good, they sticked with them and kept on picking them

The leader was not leading alone, although they made the final decisions

There were many smaller position available next to the leader, which are also chosen by the other witches

Overally they are really pieceful, so the conflicts are not that common

Cristal witches are able to do many things with magic, but it takes a lifetime to gain a really controlled power, so older, well-educated witches are highly respected and the leader was chosen from them most of the times

Some really strong witches are even able to bring back people from the death, but only if they're right there when the death happens

The Blue Sacrifice

The reason that Cristal witches were never part of the council that planned out the Sacrifice was that the races forming the council agreed that Eldarya could need them in the future (and they were damned right)

Before the Sacrifice taken place, witches were not that strong than after it happend

I imagine it the way, that once the sacrifice was made, Eldarya alone had more maana than when the two worlds were one and since witches' powers are mostly maana based, it made their powers grow way stronger than before

(I hope this makes sense lol)

Where things went wrong

As I mentioned before, they are creatures with big potential

When the Blue Sacrifice went wrong, the races in Eldarya needed the witches help the most

Almost every community, town, villige, whatever had at least one witch living with them to help out whenever there were high need

The problem is, that there was always high need; as we know Eldarya was in trouble

With the help of the witches it was easier to go for supplies to the human world, although only those communities could do this who had stronger, more experienced witches

There were even witches who were able to cast spells and make the field able to grow some edible plants

And this is exactly where things went terribly wrong

Since cristal witches have a high value, there were many who hunted them or tortured them for their powers

Why? Well, I know all the above reasons would be enough, but there are more to it

Cristal witches' blood is able to make the lifespan of whoever drinks it longer

And not just that, but it can completely function as food, it stops hunger for longer periods of time (weeks, sometimes months, depending on power) and makes the immune system 100% healthy

It was also used for really expensive medication

You know what else is really valuable? The tears of witches.

It can fasten healing and was used for many medication as well as their blood

But only tears that hold heavy emotions count, since the tear drops turn into little crystals

These informations spread real fast after a while and witch hunts became so serious that at one point several communities started to think that it would be better to sacrifice them as well so maybe Eldarya could gain its full balance [the Guard of El also wanted this, just in case you were curious]

Witches would've 100% sacrificed themselfs if they got asked by the time the Blue Sacrfice happend

But after all the terror they went through, their trust was completely broken

They did not want to die for all these selfish folks wanting to murder them, not thinking about their race for a single second

So one day they completely vanished

Nobody knows how exactly, the common guess was that they opened the portal and moved to the human world, giving up on their magic

I mean everything was better than dying for your murderers

After the vanish

Of course, not all of the witches vanished, but the witch communities that lived together

Those who lived in certain places helping out stayed there

Back then the Guard of El had a witch with them too

Sadly, they got scared of her possibly gaining control over the guard, since she was very much loved... So they decided to kill her [yes, they wanted to sacrifice her, and then killed her, way to go]

The last known cristal witch was a male, living with the Fenghuangs, but he died just before The Origins' story starts

But... Are they really all gone?

Okaaaay soooo I bet there are stuff in this which doesn't exactly fit the story and/or I remember incorrectly, but it is what it is.

On the very first art you can see my OC named Chrystal. Well, she arrives to Eldarya the same way Erika did in the original story, the main difference is that she turnes out to be a cristal witch and this fact leaves the guard in a numb shock. Suddenly the only living cristal witch is with them and that is changing their situation entirely.

I am sure I will write down Chrystals story with illustratons and whatnot, but currently I am working on my Moonligh Lovers' OC's illus, so that will take some time.

Anyway, this will have another part, I wanna at least introduce Chrystal so you can see a cristal witch in action, hurray.

Ah, yeah, if there are facts from the game messed up, feel free to tell me, I am not biting. You can also use this idea for your ocs, I don't mind. Hugs<3

[roseybulb]

Jealousy at its Best

In which the brothers are jealous of an angel stealing your time and reveal how they steal it back.

I haven't written an xReader fic before so I hope you like it! I was originally going to use this prompt for my oc Lenna but decided to give this a try! This will also take place in a time after the events of lesson six!

WARNINGS: None! :P

Demons were naturally very jealous creatures, the desire to own something or someone and keep it for themselves was a constant need. Sometimes their specific natures made it worse. Prideful demons took great pleasure in knowing the object of their affection wanted them and only them. Demons of greed needed as much (and always more) of their object of desire as possible. Beware if you caught the eyes of a demon of envy or wrath. Both would rage at the idea of someone stealing your attention away from them. A demon of gluttony would keep you around because, without you, food would never be the same. It would be dull and almost flavorless. They would be hungry for something sweet, something like that sweet smile of yours. It goes without saying why one should be careful in capturing the attention of a demon of lust. The burning desire would consume you. 

Somehow you had drawn the attention of all six. All six of them eager to steal you away and monopolize all of your time. 

If only that damn angel would go away. 

Since the day you protected him from Lucifer, Luke had clung to your side any chance he had. He sat with you in the classes you shared, delighting you with tales from Heaven and about his precious Micheal. You had lunch with him on school grounds, studied with him in the library. You were his taste-tester for new sweets recipes. He followed you like a lost puppy, yapping at your heels and growling at any demons that tried to approach you. 

Luke was especially weary towards Lucifer, for obvious enough reasons but it still annoyed the eldest brother to no end. You had forgiven him so what was the big deal? Lucifer had been gracious enough to allow Luke to live, the least he could do was stay away from you when Lucifer wanted your attention. Not that he would ever admit he wanted such a thing from a human of course. The brother Luke was least weary towards was Beelzebub, perhaps it was because you had also been protecting the Avatar of Gluttony that day or maybe it was because he had let Luke stay in his room. It certainly helped that Beelzebub was calm as long as he was eating which is why you carried sweets in your pockets just for Beelzebub.

It would be so simple for any of the brothers to separate you from the angel, he was awfully jumpy for a guard-dog. Despite that, none of them made any moves to scare Luke away from you. You looked so happy when you were with the angel. Your eyes the softest they had ever seen. It was like watching an older sibling spend time with their precious little brother. Your kindness and warmth moved them. The brothers wanted so desperately to have those eyes regard them as softly as they did Luke. They just wanted it to mean something a little more than familial love. 

Since most of your attention was on Luke at school, the brothers competed with one another at home. 

Lucifer would pull you into his office and have you do your homework there. When you had asked why he told you he wanted to make sure you were passing. He claimed that he didn't want you failing and making Diavolo look bad. You only agreed because you could see a hint of something else in his eyes. The two of you spent hours in comfortable silence, the sound of rustling papers filling the space. Lucifer would sometimes look over and watch you as you worked. The way you rested your hand against your head, the way your lips moved silently as you worked out a problem. His favorite part was when you smiled to yourself, giddy to have solved a problem that had been troubling you. You always stayed until your eyes were drooping from exhaustion, Lucifer would excuse you and watch as you left his study. He eagerly awaited your presence in here tomorrow. 

Mammon took you shopping with him. Well, it wasn't so much shopping as it was wandering the plaza and looking into windows. You usually ended up pulling him away from shop entrances, knowing that he didn't have money for expensive jewelry, clothes, or whatever it was that had caught his eye. While Mammon did find that part annoying, he also enjoyed the way you would laugh at him when he said something funny (some of it Mammon had said seriously but he wasn't going to correct you). He was greedy for the way you smiled at him, the sound of your laugh. Parting from you at the end of the day was pure torture. He always wanted more. Sometimes you let him into your room and he was able to spend even more time with you. Time with you was precious to him, even if he wouldn't admit it to your face. 

Leviathan was constantly inviting you into his room to try out a new game or binge an entire anime with him. You would bring his favorite snacks and settled in for a long night. He liked how you reacted to things. Your brows would furrow when you were frustrated with a level or when your least favorite character in an anime appeared. You laughed when something funny happened and you didn't get too upset when he beat you in a game. You listened to him ramble about theories he had about what was going to happen next. He would steal much more of your time if he could. He was so envious of the way his brothers casually stole you away from him. You were his Henry. His closest friend. He was certain he wanted you more than the others did too. Every time you left he thought of pulling you back into his room for just one more episode or one more round. But he didn't, too caught up in his insecurities. He worried that you pitied him as the shut-in-brother. Leviathan often reminded himself that it was better to let you go. No matter how badly his envious nature was telling him to pull you back to him. He just counted the seconds until he was able to pull you back into his little world. 

Satan loved reading with you. The two of you often sat on his bed, thighs pressed together with the only sound filling the room was pages turning. He loved these silent moments. If he was being honest, time with you was even sweeter when he had successfully stolen you away from Lucifer. The eldest was quick to hide his annoyance in your eyes but Satan saw it. It was so easy to wound a demon of prides pride. There was only one thing that Satan enjoyed more than reading with you or annoying Lucifer. It was when you fell asleep on his shoulder. Your breaths soft as the book in your lap slowly shut as your hands relaxed. In a place where you were at the bottom of the food chain and living in a houseful of demons that could kill you, the mere fact that you can fall asleep on him is shocking. You trusted him that much. Somehow you believed that Satan wouldn't hurt you or that he wasn't a threat. There was a part of him that thought you naive for such thinking but for now, he couldn't be bothered to care. He much preferred feeling your warm body so relaxed against his so for now he wouldn't do anything to disrupt that. 

Asmodeus was the one that was most likely to interrupt your time with any of the other brothers. He wouldn't pull you away from them or try to chase any of his brother away. He would enter the room and immediately head over to you. His arms would circle your waist and he would rest his chin on your shoulder if possible. It was even more enticing when you were in another brother's room. That was when he would tease you by kissing your exposed skin or stroking your arms and legs. He did that until he was forced out of the room. Sometimes he brought you into his room where he would convince you to try on outfit after outfit, each one more revealing than the last. He loved seeing your cheeks grow pink in embarrassment. He tried to convince you to stay overnight in his room countless times but it was like his idiotic older brother had a sixth sense for it because Mammon always ended up barging in right when it was about to get good. Next time he'd get you, he was sure. 

Beelzebub was rather simple, feed him and he'd be happy. As the brother Luke trusted the most (but not by much, the angel was worried Beelzebub would grow hungry enough to eat you) Beelzebub got away with being around you more. He liked how sweet you were, how kind. You always had a little something to feed him and you cooked a little extra just for him when it was your turn to make dinner. After the day you protected him, Beelzebub made it his personal mission to protect you on and off school grounds. He was happy to listen to you talk as he walked with you through town or on your way back home. Seeing you happy made Beelzebub temporarily forget about his hunger. He spent time with you in the kitchen and visited your room often. He didn't mind giving you up to any of his brothers as long as he was sure you were safe-it had taken him a while to stop feeling uneasy when you went to visit Lucifer but he didn't mind as much now. More than anything else, Beelzebub just wanted you to be happy here with him and his brothers. He just hoped that one day you could meet Belphie. 

They were strange, your demons, but you adored them for it. And they adored you too, even if some of them refused to admit it to you. You had made their lives brighter and they knew it was going to be impossible to let you go once the year was up. You would be taking a piece of each of them with you and they would never be the same again.  

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twelve: And We All Fall Down

I know I say it every time, but thanks for all the support for this fic so far. It means a lot :)

As usual, you can find this fanfic in full on AO3 here. 

And if you’re reading this for the first time, hello! This is a Chishiya x OC/female reader fic, and I hope you enjoy!

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

That evening, I didn’t leave my room. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Niragi’s face, the glint in his eyes as he turned on me. The image flashed in my brain over and over until I felt sick. He would try to kill me out of revenge. That was a fact. And that night, I drifted in and out of sleep, trying to stay awake just in case he burst through the door to finish what he started.

But he never did.

And then there was the marks he’d left. When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I flinched back, seeing another girl’s face. The skin of my neck was purple and red, like splotched lily pads of bites, marks and bruises. My cheek was blue and cut from the way he’d backhanded me, and my ankle wasn’t much better.

If I left my room, people would stare. They would know. Some of them had seen me being dragged into Niragi’s room.

As the alcohol wore off, it became easier to realise how stupid I had been to get drunk enough that I could barely form proper sentences. The way he’d been pretending to listen… how he’d kept refilling my glass… even how he’d licked my cheek right before he had pulled me away from the bar. The scared faces in the hallways, they knew what was going to happen.

They pitied me.

And now, if I left my room, they would know.

The morning after the incident, I stayed holed up in my little cave, drinking water from the bathroom tap in a poor attempt at curing the intense hangover that was turning my mind into slush.

I didn’t have any knives or items I could use as a weapon, but I did manage to find a screwdriver that somebody had left in a drawer. It wasn’t exactly much protection against a rifle, but it was all I had.

But this wouldn’t last. I would have to face them eventually; my visa was due to expire. For now though, I passed the time by translating what I could of The Metamorphosis. The kanji seemed simple enough, but some of the clunky phrasing threw me off.

‘“気がかりな夢. That must mean anxious dreams.’ I followed the kanji closely with my fingertip. ‘But where’s the bit about the cockroach?’  

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

I held my breath, clutching my screwdriver until my knuckles turned white.

There was another knock.

Oh god, this is it. I’m going to die.

And then the person called out. ‘It’s Kuina!’

The relief I felt was a cool breeze, washing over me. ‘Come in.’

The door opened and Kuina entered. She took a seat on the end of the bed, but she wasn’t smiling. Instead, she was looking at me in the same way my mother used to at times.

There must’ve been a full minute where neither of us spoke, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject.

Then at last, she said quietly. ‘Apparently Niragi’s been throwing a fit. Someone scratched his face… and I’ve heard some rumours.’

I tried to swallow against the lump in my throat. ‘What did you hear?’

‘People say they saw you drunk, that Niragi took you into his room.’ She paused, tentative. ‘Did he—’

‘No,’ I interrupted. I could feel my upper lip beginning to tremble. ‘I got away before he could. He was going to though. He said it was because of Chishiya. He wanted to… you know, get back at Chishiya. Not that he would care, anyway. We had an argument.’

It was that part that upset me more than I thought it would. The fact that no matter how many times he had helped me or saved my life, he wouldn’t give a damn about what Niragi did to me. If Niragi wanted to get back at him, he’d chosen the wrong method entirely.

‘Ah…’ Kuina tilted her head back. I could feel the questions just threatening to spill from her lips. She wanted to know, but she also didn’t want to ask.

I didn’t want to talk about it, or even think about it. ‘Can you see anything that mentions a cockroach in here?’ I pointed at the line of text I had been studying.

She seemed visibly confused by the sudden switch in subject, but she still walked across the room to peer at the book. ‘I can’t see anything that mentions a cockroach.’

I raised a brow. ‘That’s hard to believe. The cockroach is the main character.’

Kuina squinted, then nodded. ‘It says “匹の巨大な毒虫” instead’

‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

‘Giant poisonous insect.’

Snapping the book shoot, I tossed it onto the table. ‘I want words with whoever translated this,’ I said, laughing harder than necessary.

Kuina smiled awkwardly, unsure. I didn’t know what was so funny. There was nothing especially funny about the words. In fact, they were utterly devastating. I was devastated. Then I realised I wasn’t actually laughing at all. Kuina’s arm made its way around my shoulders, as her fingers brushed through my hair comfortingly. She didn’t speak, but just having her there was enough.

‘I’m sorry.’ I wiped at my face with my sleeve. ‘I just, I don’t know what to do. Or even how to react.’

She shrugged. ‘How you’re reacting is fine as it is. There’s no one way of going about it.’

‘Maybe,’ I said, sniffing. I probably looked a sight for sore eyes, and my hangover was still raging. ‘I’m scared of running into him, Niragi, I mean. And Chishiya too, I don’t want to see him.’

How I’d behaved back then was shameful, the way I’d snapped and screamed at him, even though he was stating things I already knew deep down were true. He had been right, but I hadn’t wanted to hear it. Yet despite that, I was still hurt. Right off the bat, he’d dismissed everything I felt, smiling as my anger only grew stronger. He had been in control of the entire conversation, and I’d walked right into his web.

Kuina played with her quit-smoking aide sheepishly. ‘Well, actually, I admit, I didn’t just come down here to see if the rumours were true. I also kind of need to speak to you about something… we both do.’

This was the last thing I wanted. Facing Chishiya again was bad enough after our argument, but now that I was covered in Niragi’s pawprints, it was much, much worse. ‘Kuina, I really don’t want to see him.’

She held up her hands, and bargained, ‘you don’t have to speak to him, or say anything at all. I’ll even talk to him for you. Just hear us out.’

The thought of seeing his smug face again sent dread through me. He’d probably take one look at these bruises and call me pathetic. I knew I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but I really did, even if I didn’t know why. But since it was Kuina who was asking, it was hard to refuse.

‘Fine.’ I nodded stiffly. ‘But I’m not speaking to him.’

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

The rooftop burned under the glare of the sun, the heat radiating through the soles of my shoes. I had to squint, as the brightness clashed with my awful hangover. Standing at the edge, looking down on the patio, Chishiya had his back to us. However, there was something off about his appearance that I couldn’t place at first. Everything about him seemed as normal, except it didn’t. He was wearing the white-grey hoodie that I had painstakingly washed and dried.

Is he trying to taunt me? I wondered.

But the thought flew out of my head as he turned around. When his gaze fell on me, his expression changed. It was one that I had never seen before, as his eyes narrowed, lips parting slightly. It was completely unreadable, and it lasted no more than a few seconds, before he looked away.

He doesn’t look too smug… unless the hoodie’s an apology? I dismissed the idea immediately. I can’t see him doing that.  

He kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke. ‘Before you storm off again, there’s something you probably want in on.’

I glanced at Kuina, and she nodded reassuringly.

‘We’re leaving the Beach,’ Chishiya said.

My stomach fell. Was I was hearing this right? He couldn’t leave, neither of them could. It would only end in disaster. And Kuina… she was my only friend here. What would I do without her?

‘Things are getting tense between Hatter and the militant faction.’ He continued. ‘It’s only a matter of time before Hatter dies and this place turns to chaos. That’s why we plan on stealing the cards and leaving before that happens.’

What?

My head spun and Kuina’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, steadying me. ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ she said, ‘but we’re telling you this for a reason. We want your help… and we also want you to come with us.’

‘We’?

I swallowed, my eyes darting to Chishiya. He was finally looking at me. But it was strange. His expression was unusually guarded, suddenly more serious than I had ever seen it before. I couldn’t see any of his usual slyness, nothing to suggest he was telling something other than the truth.

‘We’d be killed immediately,’ I whispered to Kuina. ‘If something goes wrong, they’ll shoot us on the spot.’

She smiled bitterly. ‘With Hatter gone, we’ll be killed anyway.’

‘Niragi approached you before the Two of Spades game, didn’t he?’ Chishiya said. ‘I’m sure it was about me. As was this.’ His catlike gaze brushed over my skin.

He wasn’t wrong. Niragi had his eye on Chishiya, and given the slightest opportunity, he wouldn’t hesitate to have him captured, tortured and eventually shot. And after yesterday, I had a target on my back too.

I have nothing to lose.

‘Okay,’ I said, at last. ‘I’ll go with you. But first you need to let me know what the plan is.’ Stubborn as ever, I directed my words at Kuina. I still wasn’t prepared to deal with Chishiya just yet.

He seemed to notice this as he stepped away from the roof edge and walked to the door. He kept his head down as he passed, avoiding all contact with me. ‘You’ll have to talk her through the details. I’ve got something I need to do.’  

And with that, he left us alone on the rooftop.

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

Kuina and I must’ve spent at least an hour up there, sitting and watching the other residents flirt, drink and splash around in the pool below. She walked me through the basis of their plan. It wasn’t complex or particularly detailed. Once Hatter had been murdered, the militants would likely force the other executives to put Aguni in charge, at which point there would be a speech with all the Beach members to announce Hatter’s death. The speech would keep the militant faction distracted, and we’d use the opportunity to break into Hatter’s room and steal the cards from the safe. Chishiya had assured Kuina that he knew what the code was. How he knew was still a mystery.

It would be dangerous, but I wasn’t worried for myself. I was worried for Kuina, and dare I say it, Chishiya too. Even though he made me so mad and so hurt, I didn’t actually want anything bad to happen to him. It was hard to admit, but I actually cared. Perhaps more than I wanted to.

What a shame he doesn’t return the favour, I thought glumly, as I made my way back to my room after parting with Kuina.

The Hunting Season game had only given me a two-day visa, meaning mine was due to expire tonight, and knowing how nervous I was, Kuina had promised me she’d meet me down in the lobby.

Let’s hope I’m not put in a group with Niragi.

When I opened the door to my room, it took me a moment to realise that something was off. The air felt different, like someone had been in here.

And then I saw it. On a chair by the window was a stack of books, and as I approached them, a heaviness inside my heart lifted. The first book was an intermediate Japanese language textbook, seconded by an English-Japanese dictionary. The third was the battered, well-read copy of Wuthering Heights. But that wasn’t all. Tucked beside them on the chair was the Walkman-turned-taser that I had last seen in the Tag game. It had a small post-it note stuck to the top.

“For Niragi, next time.”

I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as I clutched the taser. With the edge of my sleeve, I wiped away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I wasn’t sure why I was crying, whether it was the shock of Niragi’s attack finally catching up to me, or the knowledge that Chishiya actually did care, even if just a little bit. It was a small gesture, his coming into my room and leaving these items, but it meant the world.

Part of me wanted to go and find him, ask him about it, and even thank him. But I didn’t get a chance, as the announcement for the games sounded throughout the hotel.

[disasterfandoms]

The Sister Becomes Known || A Trent Sawyer One-Shot

this is a continuation of these two stories written by @bravo-four-seal-team and I!

cowritten with @bravo-four-seal-team and @galaxysanduniversesinmymind​ (bless you for helping me with Brock)

Summary: Trent receives an email from his sister who he hasn’t spoken to in 5 years. Is he ready to forgive her, and what does she mean by “Amelia was right?”

A/N: This contains Two OCs: Amelia Carter, my OC who is in a relationship with Trent; and Ashley, @bravo-four-seal-team’s OC who is Trent’s sister. This is in the same universe of my Full Metal and Trent Sawyer series, and is set slightly before the pilot episode. this got very long and very dramatic, so apologies!

TW: arguments, mentions of torture, mentions of death, implied sexual activity (very brief, like maybe two to three sentences), implied alcohol consumption, hangover, brief mention of nausea, brief mention of vomiting. 

Word count: 3,000

Taglist: @twentydavid @a-kate3 @rebelwrites @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @supervalcsi @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @mrsmarvelous1995 @chibsytelford @velvetcardiganbucky @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace

Sometimes, Trent really hated his internal alarm clock.

Amelia was fast asleep, cuddled up into his side, with her head and right arm on his chest. He still couldn’t believe that she could sleep all night like that, if it wouldn’t disturb her he would toss and turn every which way during the night. He’s gotta admit, though, he sleeps better when she’s here. He lifts his head off the pillow and looks at the alarm clock: 5:05 AM. Of course it is. 

He slowly and very, very carefully tries and untangles himself from the literal sleeping cuddle monster he happened to fall in love with, putting her head on a pillow to try and mimic his chest, found his shorts they threw on the ground and tiptoed downstairs to start some coffee.

Turning the light on, he definitely didn’t expect to see a creature laid out on his couch. He let out a quiet gasp, his hand immediately going to his chest, then squinting to see if he could tell who it was from where he stood.

He took a couple of steps forward, before realizing it was Brock, a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels still in his hand. He sighs and shakes his head, he can’t even get one night without one of his brothers ending up on his couch. Though, at least Brock didn’t walk in on them yet again, so he’ll take it. He grabs the bottle from Brock’s hand, careful not to wake him, and puts it in the trash. He then starts his coffee, when he hears a soft ding from his computer in his office. Making a mental note to check that, he finishes making the jet fuel, as Ames called it, when he felt a set of hands wrap around his waist, her head leaning against him.

“Did I wake you?” Trent asked quietly, careful not to wake the tall man drunkenly passed out in his living room. All the feels in response is her head nodding against his back. He reaches into the cabinet and pulls out two mugs, putting coffee in both, before he finally feels her arms leave his waist as he turns to hand her the cup. Amelia sleepily nods a thank you, and he finally realizes all she’s in is his t-shirt.

“Might want to go put shorts or something on, love. Had a late-night visitor,” Trent mentioned, motioning towards Brock with his head. She sighed and wiped the sleep from her eyes while nodding, mumbled something that he swore was “shower” and walked upstairs.

Trent, finally remembering the notification sound his computer had made, made his way into his home office, where his computer, bookshelves, and medkits are stored. He lightly taps the Yoda bobblehead on his desk causing the head to shake, before sitting in his chair. He lightly chuckles, checking the notification that he’s received an email. When he opens it up, he instantly freezes.

Ashley?

He feels his entire body fill up with anxiety, shaking his head at the subject line: “Surprise Bitch I lived. (plz open this)”. He would have laughed if this wasn’t the first time he’s heard from her in... what, five years?

He quickly opens the email, reading it in its entirety. He couldn’t believe that she reached out to him at all, let alone to apologize. He keeps rereading it, trying to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him until his brain finally catches up and realizes that his baby sister was on the same base with him a couple of months ago, and he didn’t even see her.

Wait.

He rereads one more time, and she keeps saying “Amelia was right.” His Amelia? There was no way, he thought, trying to suspend the belief that his girlfriend of almost three years would have met his sister, talked to her, and didn’t tell him.

There’s no way, right?

“Looks like you’re dating again as well, she seems nice (Let her know she was right, honestly, I am not happy about her being right.). You seem super happy which is good to see.” The sentence is one he keeps replaying in his mind. Why wouldn’t she tell him she met his sister? Granted, he doesn’t talk about that fight or what had happened, bad memories full of angry words and regret, but Amelia, a woman who prides herself on being honest and trustworthy, should have never kept this from him.

“Whatcha readin’ sailor?” Amelia says, leaning on the entrance door frame, a piping hot cup of coffee in her hand. God if he wasn’t starting to get angry with her he would be awestruck about how pretty she is, even with her hair up in a towel and no makeup on. Focus Trent, he mentally reminds himself before asking her to come over and read it for herself.

He sits there, feeling her read over his shoulder, before turning to look at her as she realizes what the email said and sees her eyes widen. He can feel the anger rise in his body, as well as the confusion that she would hide this from him.

“Trent, I-”, she starts, but he shakes his head as if to tell her to not start with any excuses.

“Why?” Trent asks, trying to keep his voice quiet so as to not wake up Brock. God knows he doesn’t need his brother knowing about his troubles more than he already does. 

“I was going to tell you.” She quietly answers him, her hand instantly reaching up to where her locket usually is. She forgot to put it back on, though, so her hand fins the collar of her shirt and starts to pull on it.

“You should have told me the day it happened, Amelia. This is family we’re talking about,” Trent huffed, leaning forward in his chair. Amelia has since decided to lean against the desk, facing the wall as one hand was wrapped around herself, and the other still on her shirt collar.

“You were deploying the next day, Trent. I wasn’t going to drop the bomb on you that your sister showed up unannounced at my apartment right before you deployed.”

“That’s not something you just keep to yourself, Amelia. Why the hell did she even go talk to you?”

“She wanted to know about us, our relationship. I wasn’t about to tell you something like that and then you go get yourself killed because of it. No way in hell, Trent.” She shook her head and closed her eyes as if trying to erase the thought from her mind.

“For god’s sake, Ames, how many times do we have to have this conversation. I can handle myself in the field, it is not your job to protect me.” His left hand coming up to his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That’s bullshit, Trent. There’s always going to be things I’ll take off the table of discussion until I know you’re home, safe. I won’t be able to handle being the reason you’re coming home in a body bag.”

“It’s my job to compartmentalize things, focus on the tasks at hand. I can handle it, Amelia, I’m not a damn kid.” 

“Trent, I never said you were!”  Amelia threw her hands in the air, wishing this was a non-issue.

“Then stop treating me like one. You and I both know I had the right to know that she showed up. Why did you even let her in? She could have killed you!”

“She wasn’t going to kill me! She showed me a picture of you two when you were younger, you two have the same eyes, and I didn’t have a reason to believe she wasn’t being anything but truthful.”

“You don’t know that, Amelia. She’s a stranger to you.”

“And apparently to you, too, since you didn’t recognize her on base or during missions, Trent.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He sat up straight, boring his eyes into hers, looking for anything that gives away what she was talking about.

“She told me her unit was backup for you on a couple of missions, that she saw you a couple of times on base and you didn’t recognize her. What kind of brother does that, hmm?”

“You better be joking, Ames.”

“Yeah, because that’s definitely something I would joke about. God, do you even realize what you just asked me?” Amelia asked sarcastically, sick of him and sick of this argument.

“Right now I’m not even sure if I know you as well as I thought I did. You and I both know this isn’t something I take lightly, you should have told me when it happened.”

“When, Trenton? When you were on base, in back-to-back training exercises, packing your cage up for deployment? Or how about when you came home and you were packing what you needed from here? Oh, I know, I should have told you when we were saying goodbye here, because you didn’t want me to see you off on the tarmac.” Her voice was loud and full of rage, still annoyed about him asking her to stay away from the tarmac.

“Yeah, literally any of those instances would have worked.” He nodded.

“Good to know you both share a stubborn streak.” She sighed, putting her head in her hands.

“You act like I don’t have the right to know, Amelia!”

"For fucks sake, Trent. I was going to tell you when you got home, and you were back in your routine. Didn't expect you to get spun-up as early as you did, and I sure as hell didn't expect Nate to die when you did get spun-up." Amelia seethed, and Trent’s heart broke at the mention of his fallen brother. 

“Don’t. Don’t you dare bring him into this. It’s been four fucking days, Amelia. Using him as an excuse is a low-blow and you know it.” Trent says with a warning edge in his voice. He was trying not to yell, but bringing Nate up pushed him over the edge.

“I’m not using him as a fucking excuse, you asshole, it’s the truth. I’m not going to apologize for doing what I believe was right.”

Brock is slammed into awareness by two things. One, a pounding headache that feels like a bulldozer is trying to break his skull. Two, yelling, only slightly muffled by a wall. His hand clenches around empty space where he could have sworn the bottle of Jack Daniels was, and he cracks open his eyes. The sight before him isn’t his apartment, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was Trent’s. He usually crashes at Trent’s after a long night. That doesn’t explain why Trent, and who he assumes is that lady he has around all the time, were yelling, though. He’s told them her name before, Brock vaguely remembers, but it escapes him. Anyways, she was pretty used to various Bravo members crashing at Trent’s place. He began slowly pulling himself to his feet, feet unsteadily settling on the floor. He needed a glass of water and some painkillers, but first, he needed that incessant yelling to stop. He stumbles towards Trent’s study, occasionally stopping to regain balance. When he arrives at the door, he sees Trent in his chair, his computer displaying something, and the woman, god what was her name, standing over Trent, arms crossed. Both of them, without a doubt, look pissed. Trent opens his mouth for what Brock is sure to be a scathing remark, but Brock speaks first. 

“Hi. Don’t know why you’re yelling at each other, but could you calm down? It’s not good for the hangover.” He watched bleary-eyed as both Trent and the lady snapped their heads toward them. Her gaze softened, and she seemed to calm down a bit, meanwhile, Trent looked just as pissed as he did a few seconds ago.

“Fuck off, Brock. Why were you on my couch anyway?” Trent snapped, but he immediately wished he didn’t when a) he heard himself, and b) when he saw the glare Amelia shot at him. He’s only ever seen her give that look to Full Metal, and he’s started to see why Metal was afraid of his sister when she was angry. A deep wave of hurt crossed Brock’s face, as he flinched back and started losing his balance, gripping the door frame for support.

“C’mon, Brock, let’s put you in the guest bedroom. I’ll bring you some Tylenol and a glass of water up in a minute, okay?” Amelia gently ordered him, putting the much taller man’s arm over her shoulders, guiding him to the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes, uh, I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” Brock muttered, thankful someone was being nice to him since Trent was being an ass. The lady under his arm walked him carefully up the stairs, giving him a polite smile of encouragement every time he felt like he was going to fall over.

“My name is Amelia. Not sure if Trent ever introduced us properly,” She supplied, leading him through the bedroom door and onto the bed. He welcomed the softness of the sheets and duvet, though the movement caused his stomach to turn. Before he could reply to Amelia, though, she was already out the door. She returned a few minutes later, with a trash can she stole from the guest bathroom, and the Tylenol and water as promised.

“Here, take these,” she instructed while plopping them into his hand, “and if you get sick here’s something to throw up in. Sorry we woke you.” He nodded in understanding, and she quietly left the room. 

She went back downstairs, walking into the office where she had left her boyfriend.  She was seeing red at this point. Amelia understood he was hurt and upset with her, but snapping at Brock, who didn’t do anything? Out of the question. He could yell at her all he wanted, but they were all still reeling from Nate’s death and like hell would she let him take that out on some of the very few people he could trust with everything. She stopped, leaning against the door frame, trying to compose herself before she said something she regretted.

“I understand you’re hurt that I wanted to wait and tell you your sister reached out to me, but how you acted just now was out of line.” She started, before taking a deep breath.

“Amelia, I-”

“No.” She interrupted him, shaking her head feverishly, “Do not interrupt me, do not even think about trying to backpedal. I understand you being hurt by what I did, and hell you’re probably more pissed now than I have ever seen you, but don’t you dare take that out on him. I can take whatever yelling you want to throw at me, but you aren’t angry at Brock, so don’t treat him like shit for coming to his friends when he was drunk and alone. As you said before, Nate died four days ago, I’m surprised it’s only him on your couch. He needs his friend, his brother, so when he wakes up, you’re going to apologize to him. I’m going home, we both need to cool down and I can’t do that looking at your stupid face,” She finishes and turns around to leave the house before he could get a word in edgewise.

He quickly gets up, moving across the room and reaching her faster than she’d like. He grabs her hand, and she turns around to yell at him again until she sees the look on his face. He nods, takes a deep breath, and starts to speak.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper at Brock. I know he wasn’t the problem, I regretted it as soon as I said it. I’m still really angry, and hurt, but don’t go to your apartment. We can’t talk through this if you leave, and I definitely don’t want this hanging over our heads, not with everything else going on.” He was holding both of her hands now, looking into her eyes to see if anything he just said had its intended impact. 

“Fine, but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. I’m sorry that my actions, while they were made with good intentions, hurt you. It’s going to take me a minute to calm down fully, okay? I’m serious, though, I know you’re hurting, especially after Nate, but that’s no way to talk to your brother, who is also hurting. You owe him, probably a lot of beer.” That last line got him to smile, even just a tiny bit, which Amelia considered a win. 

“Yes ma’am. Now, breakfast?”

“Yes, please! While you cook it or go get it, whichever is fine with me, we can come up with what you want to say when you reply to the email,” Amelia suggested, being led by Trent into the kitchen. She jumps up to sit on the counter, while he goes and looks in the fridge.

“Who says I’m going to reply?” He says, grabbing the ingredients he needs before shutting the door, turning to look at Amelia, her eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t just get through fighting for over an hour just for you not to reply to your sister. She took the first step, T. At least reply to her, even if you don’t want to forgive her. Don’t see that happening, though, you were too pissed at the thought of not talking to her 3-4 months ago to not want to try,” Amelia reasoned, hoping this didn’t reignite the fire.

“I hate when you’re right, y’know that? Oh, and by the way,” He turned to look at her, smirking ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“My full name is Trent, not Trenton.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me we’ve been together for how many years and I’m just now finding that out?”

“Yep.”

“Well, shit.”

[norangeyyy]

I literally l can't think of anything because I'm just not that creative— but ummmm

idk your ocs hanging with the bucci gang?? or la squad ra. Idk I wanna learn more about them, orrr jojo villains.... watching jojo for fun :) (im shit at this oop)

A/N: Sis please— I'm actually in love this idea!! 😖💖 I'm glad to give my girls some attention so here :DDD (I made this an Everyone Survives AU btw bcs i just don't want angst for this one🤧)

With the Bucci Gang

► Alright, we're gonna start with Hiraeth since she's the only one they know.

► Her first meeting with the gang outside Passione is just like any other, pretty uneventful. But that's because they're in the middle of a mission and it just so happens that they needed a place to stay in for a night and ended at the hotel where she works at.

► Hiraeth, as usual, recognized them immediately thanks to Bucciarati being the popular one in the group. In fact, it was him that she got along with first when they checked in.

► The others followed when Mista requested her to be the one to serve them everytime they come back so he could hit on her in which Hiraeth just laughed off knowing exactly that the gunslinger is literally just old enough to be her son(She's 29)

► That's the reason why Mista almost choked to his death that night when she revealed her age^

► They got to keep in touch with her after that night thanks to Bucciarati so she'd sometimes be invited to come over on special occasions but most of the time it's just either Trish, Fugo, and Abbachio going shopping or Narancia wanting to go to the arcade and eat ice cream but everyone's too busy to go out with him.

► First time Bucciarati heard about it^ he almost gave her his whole wallet in exchange for the trouble of having to babysit the 17 y/o boy and Narancia got scolded lmao

► He and the other two torture dance boys may or may not also spam her with messages everytime they're in *real* trouble and telling Bucciarati about it is not in the options anymore (Abbachio in the bg telling them to stop dragging her into it while Giorno and Trish watches concerned in the corner lol)

► Long story short, she officially became that chill auntie that everyone trusts with their secrets.

With La Squadra

► Now we're getting real ;)

► Hiraeth has a whole ass history with these guys so she doesn't really need to hide her identity with them.

► It all started in highschool with her being in the same class as Risotto and years later they bump into each other again but this time, it's inside the mafia, which they both find quite ironic since they're both the well-behaved kids back then.

► Because of this, it wasn't that hard for Hiraeth to get into Passione and it's also why Oneira exists. Risotto knows that Hiraeth still has a life outside the mafia unlike him and strictly ordered her to never let anyone know about it.

► So what's better disguise than looking like your Capo's crazy twin sister, right?

► Fast forward to La Squadra finding out who Oneira is anyway since you can't really hide anything for that long in a group of nine men.

► Now that they know what she looks like under that cake of white face paint and eyeliner, she has to say goodbye and go solo for safety purposes.

► "Fucking great job, Illuso." "Hey, it wasn't just me! "

► Going solo and building a name for herself after leaving the gang didn't start well either since rumors are inevitable so Oneira really has to avoid La Squadra and lay-low until the rumors subside.

► But sometimes she'll slip in and surprise everyone in the hideout which always ends up with them drinking and trashing the place all night then waking up with Risotto sitting across them with a glare.

► Worry not though, Oneira wouldn't be there to suffer Risotto's wrath since she'll be long gone along with Sorbet and Gelato before their capo could even go back home.

► Cue to three of them laughing like maniacs at 6AM as they drive to Oneira's house to hide using Ghiaccio's car that's covered in pink glitter and puke, with Melone passed out naked and tied in the trunk.

► "Hello?! This is Formaggio, where the hell are you guys?! Gelato, i could hear you guys laughing, come back here you cowards! Risotto's gonna kill us!" "I'm sorry but we missed the part where that's our problem*hangs up*"

With the JoFoes

► This would be a whole another AU from the ones above since Hiraeth only knows Diavolo and Doppio but her with the other villains would be more chaotic than when she's with La Squadra.

► Since this is an AU where Hiraeth doesn't really have to be either Oneira or Maestra, she can do whatever she wants(Hell yeah)

► So if they ever watched JJBA with her, they all better prepare to be bullied for the next 5 days.

► "Dio, wHY?! " "Imagine getting your ass kicked before stands even existed. Atleast, you're sexy though. " "DIO please, you look like a banana fuckboy and you kill dogs. " "Kira, i don't even know where to start. " "Maybe if you stopped shouting your stupid villain monologue then you would've gotten the arrow. "

► Everyone's laughing until it's their turn to be bullied for the dumb shit they did in the show. No one's truly safe except for those whose parts still hasn't gotten an anime adaptation.

► "Atleast we know basic math, Hiraeth. Go back to Fugo and join Narancia, maybe you'd learn something from that 16 year old. " "HOW DARE YOU?! "

► When i said no one's safe, i meant it^

► Don't worry, they're all still buddies and would still start fires together at the end of the day.

[miceenscene]

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 2.2k / 4.9k (so far)

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings: canon-typical violence

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Two: The Question

Din Djarin did not have a Match.

Din Djarin did not have a Match.

He couldn’t.

How, why didn’t matter…

He just couldn’t.

Right?

This Woman with a small dark spot high on her cheekbone and finely calloused hands and wearing his shirt couldn’t be his Match.

She just… couldn’t.

It was just coincidence that he was pulled into her orbit, like a comet desperately seeking gravitational equilibrium.

And it was coincidence that she apparently felt the same. Even foggy as she was.

She still had not said a word, did not reply or even react when addressed, but she always floated in Din’s direction when he stepped away.

Which wasn’t very often.

The urge, or ‘bond’ as the Armorer called it, was only satisfied if she was near.

The pair of them were something of a side-show in the covert for the evening.

Even through beskar and dark visors, gazes felt heavy on Din’s shoulders.

Outside the covert, curiosity – whether hostile or benign – was expected.

But here? Never before.

He thought about leaving. But as confused as she was, dragging her, barefoot, back through the streets of Nevarro, even just to the ship seemed unwise.

So Din found a spare room in the covert–The Woman following in his wake, fingers still threaded with his.

It was barely more than a door and two stone benches that could pass for beds if needed. But solitude was necessary for his kind.

He found himself hoping she’d speak once they were alone.

She didn’t.

But she did grow tired before too long. Not surprising given her recent clinic visit.

“You can sleep here,” he said, gesturing to one of the benches embedded in the wall.

She did not reply. Or move.

He was not used to being the verbose one.

“Here.” He offered her his cape, threadbare at the bottom but warm enough. She took it, thumbs brushing across the fabric.

Nodding once, he moved for the door.

She followed.

“You need to sleep. I’ll be outside.”

He stepped back and she stepped forward.

“No–” he huffed in minor annoyance. Turning her around by the shoulders, he guided her to one of the benches and sat her down. Gently by firmly. “Sleep. ...Please.”

He stepped back once. Twice. She didn’t move.

On the third step, she made to rise, but his hand outstretched stopped her.

He at least made it to the door before she stood back up.

He surrendered with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll stay here.” Sitting down on the opposite bench from her. “Satisfied?”

She apparently wasn’t as she drifted to sit on the bench, hand fitting into his as she curled up next to him.

A beskar pauldron couldn’t have been a comfortable pillow, but it might as well have been down-filled silk for as quickly as she dropped off.

He waited an hour, then two, just to be absolutely certain she was completely asleep, listening to her gentle breathing turn deeper and slower. Then he eased her off his shoulder to lie down, leaving his cape for her blanket.

She didn’t stir as he headed to leave the room, the door hissing open in front of him.

Stay.

A fist pressed to the front of his helmet for a minute in frustration.

Stay.

There’d be no peace if he resisted.

So he sat down in the furthest corner of the room from her, tipping his helmet back to rest in the crook of the walls.

Her sleeping form was the last thing he saw as his eyes drifted shut.

But when they opened a few hours later, the bench was empty.

His head jerked up only to realize that The Woman had simply moved.

Her head now rested on his collarbone, his arm wrapped around her, her hand clasped in his, pressed tight to his cuirass.

Something high in his chest cracked, fissures reaching magma flow far below, and his next breath quaked.

Beskar cautiously pressed to the top of her hair was not perfect, not even ideal.

But the alternative was terrifying.

The next morning dawned and The Woman still had not spoken, still drifted in a haze where Din was her only heading.

“I don’t know what to do with her,” he said, in the early afternoon, back in the Armorer’s forge.

This time with The Woman at his side, hand in his as always.

“I have work to do.”

“Take her with you,” the Armorer replied.

“I can’t do that.” His work was dangerous enough without spacey tag-alongs who did not listen to reason.

“She won’t be happy to stay here. And neither will you.”

Silence seemed the better reply than admitting how correct she was.

“Can you keep her here while I get supplies?”

“Yes.”

Din was never a meandering purchaser, but it was perhaps the shortest supply run he’d ever made. And that was with the addition of finding clothes and shoes he hoped would fit her.

Karga even made mention that he ‘seemed awfully anxious to get going’. But he coughed up four new pucks after a solid minute of silence.

The Woman was waiting at the western entrance of the covert when he returned and followed along happily back to The Razor Crest, now dressed in nondescript pants and tunic that suited the weather.

He set her down in the co-pilot’s seat and started the engines. Cleared for take off. Coordinates plotted. But first––

Turning back to face her, she looked his way, eyes still distant. “If you want to be taken somewhere, just tell me.”

As if that diffused the uneasy energy of leaving a planet with her.

Again.

She seemed entranced by the pulsing blur of hyperspace, eyes wide and unmoving from the windows.

Seeing as there was just one bed aboard, it made sense to sleep in shifts.

Though every time, he woke to her sitting at the cabinet opening, holding his hand.

He really couldn’t bring himself to mind.

He’d never had many passengers aboard his ship before, at least ones not stored in carbonite. But when he had, they felt like an intrusion. Something to be stepped around and removed at the soonest possibility.

It made very little sense why The Woman didn’t fall into the same category.

The first quarry was on Felucia. Seemed a group of bandits had been making life difficult for the local villages, difficult enough to pay Guild rates to have the base cleared out and the leader brought back in carbonite, ideally to be left in there.

The Woman was sleeping when they arrived. He hoped she’d remain that way in the time it took him to finish the job, which he didn’t think would be long. There were two dozen bandits at most, ill equipped and even less trained.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and paused to rest a hand on her shoulder.

Stay.

“I’ll be back,” he said in a low tone, before forcibly ignoring the bond and heading out.

Return.

Unfortunately, in his admittedly distracted scouting of the base, he missed the patrols they were doing of the surrounding forest.

Which is how his nest was stumbled on by some truly lucky trandoshans, who just happened to have back up already on the way, and Din was disarmed, cuffed, and taken into the yard behind the walls of the base.

Not ideal, but he’d been in worse setups.

Though the odds tilted out of his favor when the head of this bandit ring was revealed to be an ex-storm trooper sergeant. That had not been in the briefing.

No wonder there were forest patrols… and imperial grade handcuffs.

At least they let him keep his helmet for the time being.

However, they were unfortunately interested in how he’d gotten to them. A search party was immediately dispatched to find his ship.

They hadn’t been gone more than five minutes when suddenly,

Danger.

Oh no.

The Sergeant’s comm link activated. “Ship not yet located, but we did find something else, boss.”

“What?”

“Kursan is bringing her to the base.”

No. No. No.

“Well, well, well. This yours, Mando?” the Sergeant laughed as The Woman was brought into the yard at blaster point. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The Woman did not answer. She tried to step away from Kursan, but his grip on her arm stopped her, blaster pressing to her back.

“Let her go,” Din said. “She’s not part of this.”

“Oh, so, she’s up for grabs then?”

The Sergeant chuckled when Din did not reply. “‘Cause, ah… I know she’s not a local. And it’s not everyday beautiful women come wandering through the forests of Felucia.”

Danger!

He grinned. “This just got interesting. I know you Mandalorian types. Torture doesn’t bother you. Rip your lungs out and you still wouldn’t talk.” The Sergeant swaggered over to one of the weapons racks, picking up a bo staff. “You’re big on honor, loyalty. But more importantly, Protection.”

The Sergeant turned back to face The Woman, regarding her closely. “I wonder how pretty her face will be after I’m through,” he said quietly, steadily.

Rage breaking through control, Din pulled at his cuffs but they held strong.

“Leave her alone!” Din snapped.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

“Tell me where your ship is.”

Din gaze swept through the area, hopping from his restraints to his captors, seeking alternate routes. Desperate ploys. Anything.

The Sergeant did not wait, bo staff meeting The Woman’s ribs with a crack. She cried out and dropped to her knees, arms wrapped around her middle.

“Tell me where the ship is.”

With a swift inhale, the Sergeant lifted the bo staff for another swing–

“It’s on the ridge. A klick and a half due south.”

The Sergeant grinned again. “There. Now was that so difficult?”

He swung the bo staff down towards her–

“NO,” Din yelled–

The Woman’s hand caught the staff, mid-swing.

Her head snapped up. Snarl on her mouth.

She snagged the staff sideways, through the Sergeant’s grip, and gouged it into Kursan’s stomach.

His blaster fell to the ground. She grabbed it.

One shot, Kursan was down.

Second shot, hit the middle of the Sergeant’s cuirass, making him stumble back, and she got hold of the bo staff.

One quick swing knocked him to the ground.

Din used the cover of surprise to knock his blaster out of the hands of his guard.

Grabbing it, one shot to kill that guard and a second to kill the other.

The rest of the battlements finally caught on and opened fire into the yard.

The Woman ran for cover behind a parked imperial shuttle as Din tried to draw as much attention as possible away from her. Still cuffed, but at least he had the beskar.

A post under the battlements was as best cover as he could find. But it gave him a clear view of the opposite wall. Another shot, another guard fell.

A body dropped right in front of him, shot down by The Woman on the other side of the yard.

Who was she–no. Curiosity could be dealt with later, right now he was just kriffing grateful.

In tandem, they methodically took out the guards on the wall.

But Din lost sight of the Sergeant in the chaos.

He found him again when the Sergeant and The Woman came around the shuttle, bo staff and axe swinging furiously.

Din rolled out of cover, getting the last few guards she left behind above him.

The Sergeant blocked her high swing, but wasn’t ready as she brought the bottom up between his legs.

Then around to sweep his feet out from under him again.

Din turned and fired, hitting the gap between his cuirass and pauldron. The Sergeant collapsed.

The Woman turned on Din, gun back out and pointed his way.

One last guard, buried in cover, popped out and got off a single shot that pinged off Din’s armor.

Without looking away from Din, The Woman fired and the guard fell.

Oh.

Silence filled the yard as she turned her gun back on Din.

Her eyes were clear now, scorching in their fury. He was far more likely to die by her hand than any of the bandits.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and Din had never seen anyone more miraculous.

He dared a step closer, still cuffed, blaster in one hand but lowered.

Her grip tightened on her gun.

Probably best to stop moving so the conversation didn’t begin in gunfire.

Her grip flexed again, and her brows flickered together.

Help.

“It’s alright,” he said in a calm, low tone.

She didn’t care much for that, fury flaring brighter.

Frustration became palpable as her mouth opened but no words came out.

She was straining for something, tension pulling her muscles taught. The hand on her bo staff shook once, till finally–

“VAII,” she demanded, the single word wrenched from her mouth with a great deal of effort.

It’d been so long since he’d heard mando’a outside of the covert, it took a moment for the word to register.

“Vaii me’bana?” he asked when she didn’t clarify. Where-what?

“Vaii!?” she repeated, after a shorter struggle.

“Felucia.” He hoped that was what she was asking.

Frustration and fury simmered down into confusion. Mouth opening again but no words coming out for a moment.

“Tion?” How?

Somewhere inside the compound, an alarm sounded.

Next: Chapter Three: The Promise

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