#-couldn’t. he just gets ultimately destroyed or whatever

[ectoplasmer]

guess who is being clinically unwell over yb and technically tkb again haha it’s meeee *SOBBING*

[sim0nril3y]

Home

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After an incident in your home you made the decision to move in together. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), very soft, talk of break-in, canon-typical swearing.

It was late evening, Simon had just gotten home himself from meeting with Price and Gaz, they met up and caught up on everything they’d missed in each other’s lives. He still couldn’t bring himself to speak about you in front of them, still wanting to keep you a secret, keep you safe from any parts of his life that could put you in danger. He’d kept quiet even when Price spoke about some pretty thing he’d been seeing and when Gaz brought up the posh bird he'd met at a wedding.

He'd asked for you to call when you got home from work, his phone buzzing as he entered his home caught his attention. Smiling, answering and bringing it up to his ear as he asked. “Get home alright-” The words died in his throat as he heard the sounds of your little hiccups and sobs. “What’s happened? Where are you?” As soon as Simon had entered his home, he’d walked straight back out of it in the direction of his car. “I’m on my way…”

The story was that your flat had been broken into whilst you’d been out at work. The place had been completely ransacked, anything valuable was gone, mostly everything else was trashed and destroyed. The lock on the door was completely busted now and ultimately you just felt vulnerable in your own space, it simply didn’t feel safe anymore.

The whole journey to your block of flats Simon was cursing himself. The one night that he didn’t come pick you up from work, the one night he was busy and focusing on himself you’d fucking needed him, you’d been sacred and alone and come back to your flat to find the door kicked open and worried that whoever had gotten in there might still be in there.

He took the stairs to the flat block two or three at a time, chasing up them to get to you. Everyone in the block seemed to be stirring from the police being on the scene, all out to watch this all unfold. You’d been standing outside of your flat allowing the police to look around the small space inside, searching for anything that might have been left behind in the wake of the chaos that had happened inside. Simon approached and wrapped his strong arms around your trembling form, pulling you into his chest and kissing your forehead as he muttered. “I’m here… I’m here…”

He calmed you. He coaxed you into his arms. He silently seethed about whatever little prick had let themselves into your home, your sanctuary and made their way off with your things, your personal items. Simon would hunt them down given the chance but now wasn’t the time to be raging, all his energy needed to be focused on you. “I know, babe. I know.” He muttered quietly, pulled into his arms, warm and safe in his embrace.

Soon enough the police were done, they advised strongly to stay elsewhere for the night, with a busted door and the place already targeted it was more vulnerable than ever. Simon was collecting some of your clothes into a bag whilst you wandered aimlessly around the rest of the small home, pausing for a long moment at your art supplies, kneeling down to inspect the canvas’. It hurt to see them trampled and discarded like this, just completely destroyed by some heartless thug.

“Y’okay?” The small voice of Simon came from behind you, glancing over your shoulder in his direction. You certainly didn’t look alright, you look so vulnerable, so betrayed in your own place. “I know…” He muttered gently, moving towards you to gently kneel down beside you and look at your canvas. “You’ll make better-”

You mentioned. “I’m too tired to do this.” And he understood, you’d just come home from work to find this horrific event had happened. It wasn’t fair and you didn’t need to process these emotions right now. No, right now, he just needed to get you someplace safe where you could rest your head for a few hours and deal with everything else in the morning.

Following that incident it didn’t take long for the two of you to come to the decision that moving in together would be for the best. Honestly, he thought he’d have a little more difficulty taking that step, but with all that had happened the idea of having you live under the same roof as him, having you around all the time, waking up together, simply knowing that you were safe filled him with this sense of relief and completion.

Everything was set into motion from then, you took to cancelling your tenancy on the flat and the process to move you into Simon’s home was put into effect. With all that was left in your flat it didn’t take much to box up all the remaining furniture and items, three or four trips back and forth from the flat to the house was all it took to move everything over. That was it settled; you were living together.

Simon was holding a box labelled ‘art supplies’ stepping past you to head upstairs. “You can just put it in the garage.” You suggested, after having most of your art destroyed the appeal to make anything new wasn’t inside of you, unsure if it was temporary or permanent you boxed your things away for now to deal with at a later time. “S’alright…” He mentioned, continuing to stomp upstairs. “I’ll put it in your art room.” He commented, now this was enough to make your brow furrow.

“What?” You then proceeded to chase upstairs behind him, following him into the spare room and coming to a stop to see Simon had kitted it out with all the supplies that had been destroyed in the break-in, even a new easel facing to look out the window into the beautiful back garden scenery. “This… is for me?”

It had been something that Simon had noticed that you’d been lacking expressing yourself creatively, usually he’d find you holed up creating something new, or working on an old piece… but since the break-in you’d been almost avoiding it. Placing down the box in his hands he replied. “Well, yeah… you don’t think it’s all for me, do ya?” He asked with a raised brow looking at you, a teasing tone to his voice which made you smile subtly. “Can’t put this stuff in the garage, anyway, got my weights down there.” He informed you with a non-committal shrug.

You watched him for a moment before rushing over and wrapping your arms around him, hugging onto him as tight as you could manage. Simon hugged your back, placing a hand on the back of your head and rubbing your back in a soothing way. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his throat. There was so much that you were thankful to him for but allowing you the space to find that creative side to yourself again was something you’d be eternally grateful to him for. “Thank you.”

“S’alright, babe.” Simon replied, kissing the top of your head and holding you securely in his arms. “You’re safe now.” He muttered, probably more to himself that even you. “You’re home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 20-01-2025

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Things Simon Loves About You

Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.

Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.

Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.

He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.

It’s still going on ‘til this day.

He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.

He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.

He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.

Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.

And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.

He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—

You see where this is going.

He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.

He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.

Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!

He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.

Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing. He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .

Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.

Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).

Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”

All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[nevadancitizen]

-> THE BURDEN OF TOMORROW

synopsis: kamski reveals the one thing you know to be true as a lie: your humanity. connor can’t rightly sit idly by as you struggle to re-find yourself.

word count: 4.2k

ships: connor x reader, hank anderson & reader

notes: i’m skipping from fandom to fandom like i’m fucking window shopping huh. anyway connor the pinerrrr. connor the ultimate denier of feelingssssss

related reading: HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

You had been against the idea from the beginning. In your head, you traced the different ways Kamski would turn you, Hank, and Connor down – “I’m too busy to answer some stupid questions,” or “Go away, I’m trying to enjoy being a retired billionaire,” or “I’m Elijah fucking Kamski, and who the fuck are you supposed to be?”

But his android, Chloe, had welcomed all of you. And you couldn’t ignore how Kamski’s face brightened ever-so-slightly when he saw Connor. But it confused you even more when his eyes flitted to you and his expression brightened even more.

He started talking after he got out of his red-granite-lined pool, which didn’t really interest you. Your eyes turn to one of the Chloes that’s standing off to the side, her eyelids fluttering a little as she presumably scans you. When she’s done, her lips tilt upward in a smile and her head cocks to the side a little. It’s like… she knows you, or something. Like she was smiling because she saw an old friend.

Kamski’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Chloe?”

Chloe immediately walks over to Kamski, her bare feet making soft sounds against the tile, then muffled by the carpet. She sinks to her knees when he puts a hand on her shoulder and pushes slightly. 

“What interests me…” Kamski moves so he’s standing next to where Chloe’s kneeling. “… is whether machines are capable of empathy.”

He moves so his back is turned on all three of you, and opens a drawer of a side table near the window. “I call it the “Kamski Test.” It’s very simple, you’ll see.”

Kamski turns with his hands raised. One of them is holding a pistol by the barrel, in a way that it would be impossible to fire. Once he’s established that he’s not a threat, he moves forward and places the grip in Connor’s hand. Connor curls his fingers around it on instinct, his index on the trigger.

“What are you doing?” You interject.

Kamski looks over at you and smiles. It’s like you’re proving something to him. What you’re proving, you don’t know. 

He moves Connor’s arm so that the sights of the gun are trained on Chloe’s head. “It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor. Destroy this machine, and I’ll tell you all I know. Or…”

Kamski makes a half-circle and stands beside Connor. “Spare it, if you feel it’s alive. But you’ll leave without having learnt anything from me.”

Hank scoffs and rolls his eyes, gently hitting your arm with an air of can you believe this fucking prick? “Okay, I think we’re done here. C’mon, let’s go, both of you. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

You put your hand on Hank’s arm to still him and stare at Connor. His LED flickers between yellow and red, circling in on itself quickly as he stares down at Chloe. His eyelids flutter slightly as he tries to process everything around him, calculating and sorting every possibility into neat percentages.

“Connor?” You say softly, trying to break him from his trance. “Connor, come on. This is a waste of time – you don’t need to do this. It could mess with your…” you gesture at your forehead vaguely. “… microprocessors or whatever.”

Kamski exhales slightly and smiles. He takes the pistol by the barrel, gently taking it from Connor’s hand. Connor looks at Kamski, then back down at Chloe.

“Amazing,” Kamski breathes out.

“Yeah, amazing, I care about Connor.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

Connor catches your eye and nods. “I would’ve been okay. Shooting the android wouldn’t have impacted my microprocessors or any of my other biocomponents.”

“The kid’s just worried,” Hank cuts in. “Now, c’mon. We’re leaving.”

“Wait – one last thing.” Kamski brushes past, walking to the far wall. He presses his hand to a biometric scanner on the wall, causing it to let out a sound akin to a hiss as it opens. It creases vertically, then folds back. 

You let out a small sound of disbelief as you take in what Kamski revealed. Lining the walls of the hidden compartment is… information, yes, but not information about deviants. It’s information about you. 

Photos of you as a child, teenager, adult, and projections of what you’d look like as you aged. Reports on how you’ve been performing as a detective. Maps of interrelationships, circles labeled with names and a web of color-coded lines connecting them.

And, on the back wall, are blueprints. You’ve seen these types of schematics before – they’re for androids. 

Kamski turns and smiles when he sees your shocked face. “So it worked. You firmly believed you were human. Am I wrong, Detective?”

You feel a hand on the top of your back, and only barely register Hank shuffling you towards the exit as you stumble. “This is fucked. I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to pull, Kamski, but we’re out.”

“N-no, Hank, wait –” You dig your heels in, never once looking away from the hidden compartment. “Wait, Kamski, what is this?”

“Just an experiment.” Kamski follows your eyes and looks inside. “A personal pet project.”

“They’re not your goddamn passion project!” Hank snaps, ushering you along with a bit more force. “Now leave the kid alone.”

“Hank, please, I want to see –” You crane your neck, still trying to look. 

“This is damaging to your psyche,” Connor says, taking your arm and helping Hank herd you. “I – we need you operating at full capacity, for the sake of the case.”

“There it is, again!” Kamski laughs. “That beautiful thing, empathy.”

He walks into the room leisurely, like it’s a parlor instead of… whatever it is. “I don’t blame you for being curious. You’re a violent and irrepressible miracle, Detective.”

You struggle against Connor and Hank’s holds as you try to see more of the secret room. “Wh-what do you mean? Hank, let me see! I need to know what’s going on!”

You grab Hank’s arm with your free hand, tugging on his coat. “Hank, I promise I’ll be okay – just five minutes. All I need is five minutes! Please, let me do this. I just need to figure out what this is, then we can go. Just five minutes.”

Hank’s mouth curls into a scowl when he hears the emotion and pleading in your voice, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks. His eyes fall to the floor, then flick to Connor.

“I highly advise against that,” Connor says evenly, but his worry is betrayed by the way his jaw clenches. His fingers tighten around your upper arm. “Not only will this definitely cause irreversible psychological damage, it could possibly lead to a mental break.”

“Five minutes, Connor.” You look into his eyes. “How much damage can five minutes do?”

“A lot!” Connor says. But after a moment of eye contact, his eyes soften and he relents. He lets go of your arm and takes a step back, his shoes clicking against the tile.

Hank does the same, removing his hand from your back. He sighs and crosses his arms. “Five minutes, kid. That’s all you get.”

You immediately turn on your heel and rush into the room because, knowing Connor, he’d probably set an internal timer already. You hear both Hank and Connor follow you, standing at the edge of the doorway.

You scan the room, then pick out what to look at and what to question Kamski about. 

“This.” You point at a small tablet, showing a muted video of you dancing drunkenly at a crowded party. You’re wearing a hideous necktie like a headband and you get your face right in the camera as soon as you spot it. You can make out the words you’re saying – or, rather, yelling – “What’re you waiting for, man? Let’s party with Miss Page-Three all the way to Disco Ze-e-e-ero-o-o-o!”

You turn to Kamski. “What is this? Why do you have it?”

“Every person moves in a unique way,” Kamski says, shrugging slightly. “Androids already have a specific set of movements. I analyzed the way you moved – the way a human moved.”

“Moved?” You echo back. “What do you mean, moved? Don’t you mean move? Like, the present continuous verb?”

“I didn’t misspeak.” Kamski turns to a paper organizer on a desk and starts to flip through it. 

You exchange a glance with Hank, then Connor. Hank is more obvious with his unease, but you can tell Connor is fretting, too. He just keeps it in his mind, still silently calculating.

Kamski pulls out a manila folder and hands it to you. You turn it over and read what’s on the front. Typed out in neat Courier New is your name, your birth date, and a random date from a few years back – Feb. 21, 2034.

You undo the clasp and dump out the documents on a nearby desk. What’s inside only causes further confusion – there’s a photocopy of a will, a death certificate, an incident report, and photos of a car crash. The death certificate is… it’s yours, but it can’t be. Can it?

You pick up one of the pictures and hold it close to your face. The car is a mangled mess of metal, lit by red and blue police lights. Peeking out from underneath the rubble, limp on the concrete, is a hand. Your hand. And it’s stained with fresh, wet blood.

“Connor.” Your voice comes out weak and strained. You can’t lift your eyes from the photo. “Connor, get over here.”

Connor’s footsteps sound, quick and almost rushed. “Yes, Detective?”

“Scan this.” Your hand shakes as you hold the photo out to Connor. “I-is this…?”

Is this real? You want to ask. Please tell me it’s not, Connor. Connor, please-please-please tell me this is some stupid joke. I’m not afraid of dying, but what if I already have?

Connor leans down a little, his eyelids and LED flickering as he scans it. His face falls as soon as his LED resumes circling normally. “It’s… yes. I found a document containing that picture, but I… I’m not permitted to access it.”

“Okay, but that’s just s-some random wreck, right?” You laugh nervously, trying to ignore the lump growing in your throat. Can androids even cry? “It – it’s not me.”

Connor reaches down and sorts through the documents. When he comes across the death certificate, he freezes. His eyelids flutter as he scans it. He looks over at you, slowly. 

“No,” you whisper. “Connor, it… it can’t be real.”

“It is,” Connor says softly. “Detective, I… I’m so sorry.”

And, just like that, you’re disconnected. You’re outside of your body, stuck in the passenger seat and controlling a video game. There’s a lag to every movement you make. You recall some term you heard in a college psychology course you were required to take – disassociation. You vaguely register that this is what you’re feeling. 

With more effort than it should take, you turn to look at Hank. His expression, shocked and appalled, causes the dam to burst. Your shoulders shake as you cry, hot with misplaced shame. 

Connor wraps an arm around your shoulder, gently pushing you out of the room and towards the exit. Hank pats his shoulder, telling him to “Get them to the car – I’ve got a few choice words I need to exchange with our friend here.”

The car ride was tense, and that atmosphere transferred into Hank’s home. He had asked on the way back if you were okay being by yourself, and you were honest and told him that no, you’re not. He had sat you down and assured you that he wasn’t mad, he didn’t feel betrayed – he just needed time to think and adjust to this new change. 

He had turned in an hour ago, just a little past three in the morning. You know you couldn’t sleep if you tried. That left you and Connor in Hank’s living room. 

You’re laying on the floor with Sumo, his head on your chest and drool staining your shirt. One of your arms is propped behind your head, your other hand absentmindedly combing through Sumo’s fur. 

The silence is only broken by the ceiling fan clicking with every rotation and your breathing – artificial breathing, you suppose.

“Did you go into standby?” You ask softly. 

“No,” Connor answers from his seat on the couch. “Would you like to talk?”

“Maybe.” You trace the pattern of Sumo’s fur, then look over at Connor. “It’s just… I don’t feel like an android. And I have lots of memories. I remember going to Chicken Feed with Hank for the first time. He got me the best goddamn burger in Detroit. I remember finding a Lucky Star bottlecap when I was a kid – the, uh… the ones from that one sarsaparilla? With the blue star on the bottom. Androids don’t have memories like that. Memories from their childhood. Memories that make them feel things.”

Connor stands from the couch, then sits by your side. He puts his hand on Sumo’s head, gently tracing the white streak that cuts through brown fur. The fan continues to click as Connor thinks for a few moments, LED swirling as he does.

“I feel things, sometimes,” he says softly. “But not like how a deviant feels. I have a built-in reward system meant to keep me motivated. But sometimes I’m rewarded even when I do something unrelated to the case.”

“Like what?” You smile up at him. “Petting Sumo?”

Connor smiles softly, glancing away, then back to you. “Yes.”

You laugh softly, your eyes staying on Connor’s face, tracing this new expression. He doesn’t smile a lot, but you’re grateful for every second that he does. 

His brow creases a little, his smile disappearing. “Are you feeling alright? I want to know if you’re… I know this revelation has affected you negatively, but I just want to know of your general mental state.”

You sigh quietly, looking up and following one blade of the fan as it rotates. “I mean, I thought I had it all figured out, y’know? There’s a giant ball, and there’s evil apes. And the evil apes are just… dukin’ it out on the ball. And I’m one of them. It’s basically all just evil apes dukin’ it out on this giant ball.”

Connor tilts his head to the side. “And in this scenario… what are androids?”

“Androids don’t exist in this scenario,” you say. “Androids are too perfect. Like fine porcelain china. They’re for the future. I figured this out when I was young, before androids were everywhere. When there was just a giant ball and evil apes.”

“Hm.” Connor shifts slightly, so that his thigh is just barely pressed against your side. “And what do you feel now?”

“I… I don’t know.” You sigh. “I feel… kinda guilty, I think? Because, yeah, it’s bad. This doesn’t have any upside to it. But it���s not bad for anyone else aside from me, and Hank, to a lesser degree. It’s not death, or war, or – god forbid, pedophilia. It’s just me.”

You go quiet as you watch the fan rotate. Your fingers find the tags on Sumo’s collar, the tag with his name and Hank’s address and number clinking against his rabies vaccination tag.

“Humans are complicated,” Connor eventually says. 

You snort. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I…” he sighs. “I know you didn’t mean to deceive me. But I can’t believe I didn’t know – or at least have an inkling.”

“Shit, I deceived myself.” You laugh humorlessly. “You’re okay, Connor. You don’t need to change to accommodate me.”

“Adaptability to unpredictable human behavior is one of my core features,” he says.

“Am I really unpredictable?” You ask. Your eyebrows furrow as you fidget with Sumo’s tags. “Or, actually – am I really even human?”

Connor’s LED flashes yellow as he looks down at you, his eyelids fluttering as he scans you. He blinks a few times and his LED returns to a calm blue. 

“You’ve fooled my sensors,” Connor says. “And, if I may…”

His hand hovers over yours, which is still fidgeting with Sumo’s tags. You nod as you feel your heart skip a beat. He grabs your hand and lifts it to his solar plexus, right in the middle of his chest. 

“Do you feel that?” Connor asks. “It’s my thirium pump. Biocomponent #8456w.”

Sure enough, you feel a soft thrumming beneath your fingers. It’s not quite like a heartbeat, but a steady hum that fluctuates. Strong, then a steady decline to weak, then back to its strongest. 

You nod again, not trusting your voice at the moment. 

Connor moves your hand so that it’s resting on your own chest, right over your heart. You don’t really make an effort to check your heartbeat but, just like the last time you remember checking, there’s a steady beat. 

“You have a heart,” he says. 

“An artificial one,” you chime.

“Yes,” Connor relents. “But it proves that you’re not like me. Not a full android.”

“For all I know, Kamski cobbled me together in his creepy basement,” you try to joke. “Do you think he has one? Or is he too rich?”

“Detroit is located alongside a river,” Connor says. “The soil contains too much water for basement construction to be feasible.”

You roll your head a little, looking up at him. “You’re too literal. Don’t you have a humor microchip or something?”

Connor smiles slightly. “Unfortunately, no.” 

“Yes, you do!” You laugh and turn your hand over, grabbing his and shaking it gently. “You’re smiling. And you made a joke. A kind-of joke.”

Connor’s smile falters when he looks down at your connected hands. It’s not like you’ve laced fingers with him or anything, but it was still kind of intimate.

You clear your throat and let his hand go, instead carding your fingers through Sumo’s fur again. You can feel a blush creeping across your face. Once more, the room is only filled with the clicking of the fan with every rotation and your breathing. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you eventually sigh out. “I wish I could just wake up and start the day over. But then I open my eyes and the time has still passed and I’m still here. I still have to go through… whatever this is.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone,” Connor says. “Hank would never abandon you, and…” His LED flickers yellow. “Neither would I.”

“You’re weird,” you say softly. “You’re weird for that.”

Connor nods, slowly. “Maybe. But you’re vital to this case, whether you believe it or not.”

“I do,” you say. “Kinda. I just need time. I can see the end, which is whole acceptance, or just not caring. I mean, all the pieces aren’t here, I still need to find them, but still. I get all the pieces, somehow, something else, walla-walla-bing-bang – my android-ness doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Walla-walla-bing-bang?” Connor echoes, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I don’t know what it means.” Your eyes flicker to his and you smile at his confusion. “I think I heard it somewhere once. It just felt like the most appropriate thing to say.”

Connor’s face softens and he mirrors your smile. “That does seem like an appropriate thing to say, yes.”

You keep looking up at him for a moment, just looking into his brown doe eyes. You swallow thickly as your thoughts race. There’s a sudden lump in your throat that you try your best to ignore and clear away.

“Connor, I…” You reach for his hand. He meets you halfway, gently holding your hand and resting his thumb on your knuckles. 

“Am I a deviant?”

Are you going to turn me in? You want to ask. Please don’t. Please, Connor. I need you to trust me, just like you’ve trusted me before. I’ll be vigilant. I’ll figure this out. I promise. Please.

“No.” There’s no hesitation or doubt in his voice. “As far as I’ve figured out, you’re designed to act like a human. You’re meant to fool others into thinking you’re really human – because that’s what you were, before. Deviants are androids with mutations in their code. Your code is meant to mimic human emotions and rationale. So you’re just following your instructions.”

“Instructions.” You look down at your joined hands. You shake them a little as your lips draw into a thin line. “That’s what we both come down to, right? Instructions.”

“You…” Connor thinks for a moment. “Yes. But the instructions in you are nuanced, and sometimes contradictory. I’m not calling your code faulty – in fact, it rather reflects human behavior to a tee.”

“So I’m… at least a little human.” You close your eyes, resting your head on your arm that’s propped behind your head. “Human enough.”

“Human enough?” Connor echoes.

“Yeah. My lungs burn when I hold my breath too long. It hurts when I stub my toe and I feel electric when I hit my funny bone. I cry and my tears taste salty instead of tasting like… I don’t know, cleaning fluid.” You open your eyes and look up at Connor, as if asking him to confirm.

“Androids do have optic cleaning fluids, yes,” he says.

You smile and laugh lightly, your gaze returning to the fan blade. “Optic fuckin’ cleaning fluids…”

You sigh softly. “God, Hank was right. This is fucked. An android investigating androids and some… cheap copy of whoever I used to be. And, of course, a Lieutenant who’s slowly killing himself day-by-day.”

“You’re not a cheap copy,” he says. “Typical CyberLife androids cost nine thousand dollars, but custom models could cost more. Personally, my development and production costs total to just over four million, and every new RK800 model costs eight thousand.”

Connor soothes his thumb over your knuckles. “You must’ve cost Kamski a fortune.”

His words immediately go to your heart like you’ve been pierced by a scorpion’s tail. But instead of venom, it’s an injection of sweet feelings and erratic butterflies. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that his whispered words and damn-near reverent tone was intentional. 

“That’s… that sounds kinda romantic,” you say, then remember yourself. “I – I mean, romantic as in, like, the Romantic era? Like, it’s a romantic idea. That Kamski loves his work so much that he couldn’t bear to stop and continued to push the envelope… even if he pushed it a bit too far, with an android replacing a real-life, actually-dead human and whatnot.”

Connor’s LED blinks as he thinks. He stays silent for a while, just looking down at his hand that’s holding yours and thinking.

“You’re starting to act like me, y’know?” You squeeze his hand. “A synthetic human instead of a true android.”

His LED stops flickering and he meets your eyes. “I am not a deviant. I have a rigorous self-testing system to make sure any signs of deviancy don’t go undetected.”

“Okay, okay,” you relent. You glance down to your conjoined hands, then back up into those doe eyes. 

“Did you mean it?” You ask softly. “Earlier. When you said that you’d stay.”

“Of course,” Connor answers quickly. 

“Really?” Your eyebrows crease. “Because it’ll take years. It’ll be depressing. And it’ll be boring. I’ll be worse than Hank. I don’t expect you to reward me or to applaud my every move, because I know that’s how normal people are all the time.”

“But you’re not normal,” Connor says with a smile. “Even before your entire identity was uprooted.”

“Connor!” You laugh and let go of his hand to swat at him, then grasp his hand again. “Alright, alright. I’ll get a bit of the Normal in me. A touch of the Regular. Exactly four grams of Johnny Normalcop.”

“Don’t.” He squeezes your hand. “It would be detrimental to the case if you were to focus on restructuring yourself in a different way. You don’t need to sanitize your personality.”

You smile up at Connor. “So you like me.”

His LED flickers yellow, then returns to blue. “Yes. I enjoy working alongside you as you are. You don’t need to be any amount of Johnny Normalcop.”

You shake your joined hands gently, your smile growing so wide you’re sure you looked a bit stupid. “You’re sweet. You know that?”

“I am somewhat aware.” Connor brings his free hand up to rest on top of your connected hands. 

And, just like that, you know everything would be alright. Nothing would ever be the same, yes, but it would be alright. It won’t be easy, but you just need to move on. Uncertainty is a core tenet of detective work.

When life closes a door, it opens a window. And if the fall is too steep, use the fire exit. Run to the roof, because Connor will be there when you jump to break your fall. The most important thing is to keep moving. Keep dreaming. CyberLife can’t reclaim their lost property if you keep running – very, very fast, from one Earth-shattering revelation to the next. 

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

GAME NIGHT RIVALRY-DREW STARKEY

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Drew gets too competitive during a board game with Y/N.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It was a rare night off for Drew and Y/N, and instead of going out or watching TV, Y/N had a brilliant idea: game night.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Y/N said, setting a stack of board games on the coffee table.

Drew raised an eyebrow, slouching on the couch. “Fun for who? You know how competitive I get.”

“Exactly,” she teased. “You’ve been bragging all week about how you never lose. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

Drew smirked, sitting up straighter. “Oh, it’s on. Don’t get mad when I destroy you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. She loved how animated Drew got when they played games, it was one of his more endearing quirks, even if it sometimes spiraled out of control.

They started with a simple trivia game, which quickly turned chaotic. Drew’s competitive streak surfaced almost immediately.

“What’s the capital of Australia?” Y/N asked, reading from a card.

Drew rubbed his chin, confident. “Sydney. Final answer.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Wrong! It’s Canberra.”

Drew’s jaw dropped. “Canberra? Are you kidding me? That’s a trick question!”

Y/N laughed, marking her point on the scoreboard. “It’s not a trick question. It’s basic geography.”

“Whatever,” Drew grumbled, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn. “Next question. I’m warming up.”

But as the game wore on, Y/N continued to rack up points, her grin widening with each victory.

“You’re cheating,” Drew accused, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m not cheating! I’m just smarter than you,” Y/N shot back, sticking out her tongue.

Frustrated with his trivia loss, Drew suggested switching to a strategy-based game, one that required careful planning and quick thinking.

“You’re going down,” he declared, setting up the board for a game of Catan.

Y/N laughed, not intimidated in the slightest. “Bring it, Starkey.”

The game started off friendly enough, with both of them trading resources and building settlements. But as the turns went on, Drew’s focus intensified. He eyed the board like a general planning his next move, his lips pressed into a determined line.

“You’re not going to win,” he said, placing a road strategically across the board.

“Drew, it’s just a game,” Y/N replied, though she was secretly enjoying his intensity.

“It’s not just a game. It’s about honor,” he said dramatically, pointing at her with his game piece.

The turning point came when Y/N blocked Drew from building the longest road, a critical move that sent him into a mock frenzy.

“Why would you do that?” Drew asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and betrayal.

“Because it’s the smart thing to do,” Y/N said smugly, placing her piece with a flourish.

“You’re targeting me!” he accused, leaning back with his arms crossed.

“You’re the one who said it’s about honor,” Y/N shot back, laughing at his exaggerated reaction.

As the game neared its end, Drew’s competitive spirit reached new heights. He muttered calculations under his breath, plotted elaborate strategies, and even tried to bribe Y/N with snacks to trade him resources.

“Do you want this chocolate bar? I’ll give you all my sheep,” he said, holding up a candy bar.

“Nice try,” Y/N replied, not falling for it.

When Y/N ultimately won the game by a single point, Drew threw his hands in the air dramatically.

“I’ve been robbed!” he declared.

“You lost fair and square,” Y/N said, barely able to contain her laughter.

Refusing to end the night on a loss, Drew insisted on one more game: Uno. “This is my redemption arc,” he declared, shuffling the cards with the precision of a Vegas dealer.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You know Uno ends friendships, right?”

“Good thing we’re not friends,” Drew teased, giving her a playful wink. “We’re competitors.”

The game quickly turned savage. Drew played a string of Draw Four cards, grinning like a villain as Y/N’s hand ballooned with cards.

“Are you serious right now?” Y/N asked, glaring at him.

“Sorry, babe. It’s just strategy,” Drew said, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

But Y/N got her revenge, unleashing a barrage of skips and reverses that left Drew speechless.

“You’re a monster,” he said, dramatically slumping in his chair.

“Monster or winner?” Y/N quipped, slapping down her final card. “Uno!”

By the end of the night, the coffee table was littered with game pieces, empty popcorn bowls, and discarded cards. Drew and Y/N lay sprawled on the couch, exhausted from their marathon game night.

“Okay,” Drew admitted, throwing an arm over his face. “You’re better at games than I thought.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, snuggling into his side. “You’re not so bad yourself, even if you do turn into a sore loser.”

“I’m not a sore loser,” Drew said indignantly.

“You yelled ‘betrayal’ when I played a Draw Four.”

“Because it was betrayal!”

They both burst out laughing, their earlier competitiveness forgotten.

“You know,” Drew said after a moment, his voice softer, “even though you completely destroyed me tonight, I had fun.”

Y/N smiled, kissing his cheek. “Me too. But next time, let’s just play something cooperative. For the sake of our relationship.”

“Deal,” Drew said, pulling her closer.

And with that, they called a truce until the next game night.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 @nicholaschavezslut69

[1bibypersecond]

I just don’t get how they built such a beautiful connection between Viktor and Sky (or HexcoreSky, whatever you want to call her) in Acts 1 and 2, only to destroy it all in Episode 8 with a super rushed goodbye, and then give us a Viktor without humanity for just one episode (or half, really). And then, his "best friend" suddenly accepts him as he is when Sky had done that all along?

Like, if they were going to do that, they should’ve just written Sky out way earlier and let us have this no-humanity Viktor on screen for way longer. And don’t even get me started on the fandom. They don’t get that it was Ekko who saved Viktor, not Jayce. Ekko was the one stepping out of Viktor’s equation, not Jayce. Plus, in Season 1, the mage that gave Jayce the rune design was based on Ryze, so that whole Viktor Doctor Strange time-travel vibe in Episode 9 just felt... so bland. I’m over the whole time-travel trope—it’s so overused that it’s boring. I always knew Ekko would be the one to do it because that’s his whole character, but Viktor? Ugh, it felt like they were trying to wrap everything up way too quickly in the last episode, so they just threw in time-rewinding to make it all fit. Honestly, I rolled my eyes so hard when Viktor started his speech to Jayce about the different timelines. I was like, "Oh no, here we go."

Honestly, I get why League of Legends fans didn’t like Viktor’s rework. Mechanical Herald Viktor was way more tied to the social inequality conflict between Zaun and Piltover, something I was really hoping they’d explore in more depth. The new Viktor is much more connected to the arcane and magic, which is fine—I like cult-leader Viktor—but it loses that important conflict we saw in Season 1.

We were all excited to see Viktor’s final evolution, which lasted… half an episode? Why? Like I said, they could’ve written Sky out way earlier, given that her ending was so lackluster, and spent more time exploring this emotionless being. Maybe he was just too OP and they couldn’t keep his superpowers on-screen for too long without completely wrecking the world. I get that. Machine Viktor could’ve lasted longer because he wasn’t tied to those arcane powers.

I get it, the show is called Arcane, but the conflict between Zaun and Piltover made it feel so much more relatable. As someone from Latin America, watching how northern hemisphere countries pollute my country, dump their waste here, and have companies that destroy our environment (it's not like we don't do it to ourselves but it's still a form of oppression)—it’s a form of first-world oppression that I saw reflected in Season 1 of Arcane. But Season 2? It felt so distant. Magic isn’t real in real life, and yet Season 1 balanced magic so well that it still resonated with issues like social, economic, educational, and environmental oppression. Season 2, though, started to drift away from that. Sure, at first, you see more of that Zaun/Piltover conflict, especially with Caitlyn and the oppressive martial law (because yes, that’s literally a dictatorship). But then Jayce swoops in like, “Hey, we’ve got a bigger enemy, let’s team up,” and boom—Marvel finale.

Anyway, these are just some fever-induced thoughts I’ve been having. My ideal ending? Viktor slowly becoming Singed, like they hinted in Season 1 with that “I understand now” line. Viktor as the Herald, tucked away in a corner of Zaun like Singed, secretly helping people—not driven by feelings or morality, but by a greater good: helping those in need. Meanwhile, his humanity (Sky) tries to find him somewhere deep in his mind, ultimately leading to the creation of Blitzcrank. That’s what I thought we were getting. Instead, we got astral destruction and a bromance. Oh well, it is what it is.

[misguidedasgardian]

Storm's End (End 2)

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, fear of commiting s*icide, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, blood, violence, war and death, Kinslaying, death in childbirth, dark things related to childbearing, and other very dark things. mIght miss some warnings

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4,2 k

Notes: Alright people, this is it! the END, no more, please I beg of you, this was supposed to be a two shot! No more…

It's been two weeks since he cuddled you to sleep that night 

Since you confessed to him that you didn’t hate him, that the only thing you wanted was to get back in time and spare you all that hate as well

He acted more kindly to you, gentler, he still had you everytime he could, but at least he made sure to prepare you, to even make sure you don’t hurt while he was bedding you 

But it was too late

It was too late, he had hurt you in an irreparable way

You barely spoke, you barely looked at him, no matter how he tried to coax words out of you

it was true, you did not hate him, but you were destroyed, physically, mentally

You didn’t understood it, what was happening to you

You always thought of yourself as this calm, reserved person, you made sure never to harm or annoy someone, to make sure to present yourself as best as you could, as nicer as you could… people around you cared for you, respected you, you could tell, your family adored you… you were a good person

You didn’t understand why you were being punished with so much hurt and hate

Your own body… felt so foreign to you…

Before, you felt like you were in control, like you were one in all aspects of yourself, now… you barely wanted to move… you felt every breath you took, and even moving posed a challenge, like you had to command every movement of your body… like it didn't belonged to you anymore, you yourself were just floating inside this unknown vessel, who belonged to…

Him

And you didn’t even wanted to move in the first place

You often laid on the bed, not being able to move, sitting so still, you believed that if you did so, stood so still, Aemond wouldn’t see you, wouldn’t hurt you anymore, would forget you exist.

You felt like by only moving, you were going to make him hurt you

You offended him by only existing, by breathing, so when he entered the room, you barely did so…

He would see it, the state you were in, he chose to ignore it, and only spend time in the chambers like they were his own, he would read by the fire, he would sip wine and eat with you as well…

He couldn’t tell, but you would throw up everything you ate

Maybe that is why it was so hard for you to move…

Because you had no energy

One afternoon he came in the room, unannounced, like always, he stopped by the bed, looking down at you

“Are you with child?”, he asked severely, you looked up at im

You also knew he did not liked it when you didn’t answer

“I don’t know”, you answered truthfully

How would you know? you did felt “different”, but it was such a difficult and different circumstances, you couldn’t be sure if the “changes” you were feeling was because your uncle’s seed had taken root in your womb… or because of the estres

He sighed, loudly

“I’ll fetch a maester”

This wasn’t the first time the old man examined you in such an intimate way it made your eye spilled silent tears, but again, you felt so out of your body, you were starting to become indifferent to whatever was happening to you

“He is not with child my prince”, the old man breathed finally, and you didn't know how to feel

If you were with child perhaps Aemond would be satisfied, and would leave you alone, his purpose of humiliate you in the ultimate way would be fulfilled

On the other hand, having a child terrified you to your core

Having a baby… growing it in your belly….

Birthing it… you were there with your mom the day she lost your baby sister, and you were so horrified… maybe you’d die in labor, and the thought, of your child, being raised by the greens, frighten even more

If they even decided to raise them, knowing them, they would throw your babe into the depths of Flea Bottom with the rest of Aegon’s bastards…

That “silly” imaginary scenario made you cry, real tears, all the possibilities were terrifying, now even more so because Aemond was going to keep bedding you until he got what he wanted

You didn’t even know what he wanted anymore

“What is wrong with her?”, he asked coldly, the old made made a weird face, and Aemond grabbed him and took him out of the room, so they could speak without you hearing them

Speaking of your body, out of your earshot

Yet another proof, that your body didn’t belonged to you anymore 

“She is dehydrated, stressed, and she hasn't been eating my prince…”, you heard the old man say, “women are delicate, they need optimal conditions so they can breed…”, you felt like… something else 

“Get out, don’t tell anyone”

Aemond didn’t know the maester’s loyalties lay somewhere else.

He returned to you, and he communicated to you he was going to be send away to Harrenhal, to sort some political matters, and you should do well in using this time to rest, eat, and drink whatever you liked

Of course there was a hidden threat, so he bed you one last… long time, and when the sun broke the next morning, he was gone

Alicent had become frightened by her own son

She thought she knew his heart, but oh how wrong she was

She saw a side of him that scared her more than the drunk side of Aegon

A possessive side, dark side… 

A side that was capable of killing, raping

That poor girl

Rhaenyra’s daughter, she involuntarily whimpered every time she thought about the only daughter of her childhood companion

Alicent was scared of her own son

And this was going to get out of hand if she didn't do something 

The summit was barely a few weeks from now, and she had no idea how to remove his son’s claws from you

And she knew that if it came between getting back his father or keeping you, his father was going to be lost forever, especially since the maester had come to her the day before and told her that you were with child, and as instructed, he had lied to the Prince.

He couldn’t find out…

So gathering the last of her bravery and strength, and with the help of Larys, she… had you taken, in the middle of the night when she knew Aemond was away in Harrenhal, securing the castle before the summit 

She exchanged correspondence with Rhaenyra before hand of course

And exchanged you both, before the summit

It was a dark night without moon when you were dragged out of bed and walked amongst the secret passageways of the Red Keep to the docks of King’s Landing 

You should have been relieved, but you weren’t, you were frightened, because clearly Aemond hadn't agreed to this, you knew his anger and his rage, and you were scared of what he might be capable of, especially after he had told you that might just someday appear in Dragonstone and burn the castle  to the ground and everyone on it…

But like you yourself said, it was better one week back in your family’s arms, than years with him.

“Aemond…”, you started, “It’s going to be angry”, you whined

“Let me handle my son”, snapped Alicent, as she herself grabbed you and dragged you through the moldy passageways of inside the Keep 

“I must try again and beg you to convince your mother to see reason, that is why I’m releasing you”, Alicent said as you were about to jump on the small boat that was going to get you to the ship

“Please see that Aemond…”, she nodded shortly, but you and her knew very well than there was nothing she could do

The control over dragons was an illusion, they were savage beats, unpredictable and destructive.

As you were sailing back to your home, passing by another vessel, you couldn’t find it in your broken heart to be relieved, you felt like this was making things worse

Much more worse

You were the last chain containing the wrath of the biggest and most powerful dragon in the world

And it just snapped 

And it couldn’t be that easy, just slipping away, going back home…

But as you saw the black castle in the distance, that is when you felt it, the relief, the happiness 

You were home

For a week, a moon or years, it did not matter, you were home

Before you knew it, you were walking slowly up the huge stone bridge connecting the castle with the rest of the island, and then… there they were

Your entire family was waiting for you a bit unfitting for a Queen, a King consort, and princes and princesses, but they clearly did not care as you mother ran towards you, embracing you tightly as soon as she had you within her grasp

“MAMA”, you sobbed into her neck

Her touch, her smell… it brought you back to life, it brought your soul back into your body

“My baby girl, my sweet, my love, my heart, you are home”, you could tell she was also crying as she held you in her arms

You could no longer stand, your legs failed you, but she had you, she was a strong woman, so so strong.

You couldn’t remember much after that

You just collapsed 

You woke up feeling… uncomfortable, a sharp pain between your legs

You whined and tried to get rid of said intrusion, that is when you came back to your senses, the maester, the dragonstone maester, released you with with a concerned face

“She is with child your grace”, you felt your mother’s crying, and dark promises from your Stepfather to… “kill the one-eyed bastard”

You pushed the maester away, and he only nodded

Your mother’s attention was back to you, smiling

“My love”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want anyone touching me”, you whispered, she nodded

“You don’t have to be sorry”, she said simply, she sat by your side, a single tear fell from her eye

“I’m fine”, you assured her, “just a little broken, but aside from it all, I’m home”, she barely smiled and nodded 

“Your brothers want to see you”, she said softly, Daemon stood there, looking down at you in pity, didn’t say anything, didn’t approached you, but you preferred it that way

“I’d like to see them too”, you said, standing from the bed, you had noticed they dressed you in a simple dress 

Your brothers entered the room, but you were nervous, they could see it, and didn’t push you with the physical contact.

Nervous or not, scared to death or not, nightmares or not, you were home, for the next two weeks, you were safe and sound in your home with your family, your whole family, they had all expressed their love for you unborn child. 

If you only knew then, you were going to look back to those days as the happiest of your life…

The summit went terribly wrong… awfully, terribly wrong

Aemond was enraged, for the simple reason you were taken from him, his own family had mocked him, deceived him, betrayed him, you were his, not theirs to trade like they saw fit, he had claimed you, he belonged to you

As expected, not even Aegon could control Aemond, who demanded you to be brought back to him, now he seeked a marriage, and again, demanded that the pact of the division of the Kingdoms was sealed under a marriage pact, but not only Rhaenyra refused, but Aegon and Alicent did also…

It was a breaking point

The first one to suffer his wrath… was your baby brother

Plucked front he skies as he was returning front the Eyrie a few weeks after the summit

Your mother, nor you, not anyone really, was the same

The pact of no aggression went to shit after that

And the seven Kingdoms submerged in a gruesome war

Your brother Jacaerys was next, he perished in the narrow sea, he and his dragon, fighting against the triarchy, your baby brothers were lost too, Aegon and Viserys, you were numb by then, but the wails of your mother would hunt you forever

By that time, you were almost about to give birth

You had terrible nightmares everyday and you were certain you were going to perish in childbirth, only to punish your mother further

It was a terribly stormy night you gave birth

Terrible shapes were drawn in the walls because of the winds that sneaked through the windows threatening to make the flames of the torches perish. You felt like you were hunted by demons of the seven hells, waiting in the corner of your eyes and the room, ready to collect you

But the wail of your baby scared them away

Against all odds, you recuperated, your baby brought a glimpse of hope into the castle

Your mother was never going to smile again, but you felt her relief, and she seemed to draw a small smile only for your newborn son when she held him in her arms

Aemond’s son

You had heard terrible things about him in the last months 

That he married Floris Barahteon

that she died trying to bring forth a deformed child

That it was because a witch from Harrenhal, Alys Rivers had poisoned her because she tried to take away her lover

Yes, Aemond had taken a Strong bastard as a lover 

You could say he had a type

Things took a turn when your mother took King’s Landing

You assured her you were better here, in Dragonstone, “holding the fort”, as it were, you did not want to go back to that palace, even though, staying here alone would probably tell Aemond that you were here…

But…

He had taken wives and mistresses, so maybe, only maybe, he had forgotten about you 

Oh how wrong you were

Your baby boy was about to have his first name day when you heard the terrible news

King’s Landing had fallen

Because your stepfather, Daemon, has challenged Aemond, who remained the biggest threat, to a single combat with their dragons above the God’s eye, and he had perished

And Aemond survived it…

He and an injured Aegon took back the capital, slayed your mother, your remaining baby brother Joffrey had perished as well

And you stood in Dragonstone, alone

Dragonless, powerless

The houses loyal to your mother’s cause were in disarray, and even though her cause was still alive and well, it was hard to find something to fight for, your baby brother Aegon the III had been captured by The Usurper, and nobody looked at you, the known disgraced daughter of Rhaenyra 

You didn’t have time to ponder, or to grief

7 days after the death of your mother, sails and wings were seen upon the horizon

Ships dressed in black, gold and Green, and the monstrous Vhagar guarding them

Your people fought valiantly, knowing they were going to perish, they did not have enough strength to repel the force and defend the castle… and yet… they fought to die, for your mother’s cause, for you

But it wasn’t long… until you heard rushed step running down the stone hallway and towards your room, armor and sword clashing, screams and wails of agony

You shushed your baby, who was whimpering, ready to start crying

You sat in a chair in the corner furthest from the door, you had a vial of Tears of Lys, the maester had concocted for you

“For its preferable death than what they do to women on a siege”, He had said, it was enough for you... and for….

You looked down at your son, who was looking up at you with his big beautiful eyes.

His dragon, barely a hatchling, wailed and cried in the corner, flapping his silvery wings, he knew his bonded human was in danger, of his own mother, your thought, he filed shortly to stand in the armchair by your side, protecting your baby

You couldn’t do it

You couldn’t take the life of your own child, and not even your own

If you perished, who was going to care for your child? bastard prince?

The doors opened suddenly and soldier wearing the golden dragon on their chest threw themselves at you

You threw the vial on one of the soldiers face, making him cry out when the liquid got in his eyes

But they were vicious

You only started crying and screaming when one of them ripped your son from your arms, as another grabbed your limbs to tear from him

You kicked and screamed profanities as you son wailed when he was parted from you.

His dragon was caught by the neck but screeched and threw little flames that made the soldier curse

But he knew better than to harm him

“Let me go! traitors! usurper cunts!”, you were lashing out, scared for your son, your child

They dragged you through the hallways and corridors, trough halls and rooms

You knew exactly where you were going

Anywhere you looked you saw people killed, soldiers, servants, you looked at each of them, knowing their names and their faces, it was a sign of respect, a last thanks for their loyalty and sacrifice

The double doors of the throne room opened, and there he was

Sitting on the Dragonstone throne

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond’s face was one of complete satisfaction, but completely changed when he saw him

Your son, in the arms of another soldier, entered behind you

He paled, he was shocked… He knew you were in this castle, that is why he came so quickly, he had to take it, and retrieve you… But he never expected this… he knew you had been with child, but his spies never managed to confirm the birth of the baby… so he thought of the worse

The child… he had white hair, big eyes just like him… his head filled with silver curls

He didn’t even had to think about it

This was his son

You were pregnant, you had his child in your belly when you escaped his grasp

“Everyone, leave”, everyone left except for the soldiers who were holding you tightly

Aemond walked slowly towards you

He was the same as he was the last time you saw him

Maybe more… adult… he seemed tired, older, crueler….

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for two years”, he started, “to see you again… tu punish you for betraying me” 

“I didn’t…”, only with his look he got you to stay quiet

“You ran away from me… took my son with you”

“I didn’t know…”, you muttered defensively

Your son, Aerion, got strangely quiet, looking at his father with curiosity, and Aemond turned to him, and he drew a smile on his face

“This was going to be a lot different…”, he said as a threat, he dared to touch his cheek with his finger. Aerion playfully turned with a smile on his face and wiggled in the soldier’s embrace 

He planned on dragging you by the hairs, humiliating you in front of the Lords of the Crownlands, making you kneel and crawl, or worse…

But he never expected this

His son

He didn’t even have to ask, or do the math, he… this was his son, his flesh and blood.

“What’s his name?”, he asked softly, taking the babe from the soldier’s embrace, accommodated him in his arms

“Aerion”, you said simply, “Aerion…”

“Aerion Waters”, he completed, you frowned

“My stepfather named him a Targaryen, my mother legitimize him, he is a Targaryen”, you defended, then his dragonling roared, making himself known

Aemond smiled widely

“He hatched a dragon…”, he said, pride in his voice

Angry tears fell from your eyes

Aemond had killed your baby brother, your stepfather… And now he was happily holding his son, your son

“He is mine”, you whined, he looked at you, as you cried, “he is my son, and mine alone!”, you whined, at the sound of your voice, Aerion reached for you with his chubby hands, waggling frantically in his father’s arms 

“He is my son too”, he said, trying to pull him away. The soldiers grabbed you tightly 

“How do you know?”, you asked, and he laughed 

“I knew what happened that night when you left me, I tortured that wretched old man, and he confessed to me, that you were with child”

“That’s why you killed my baby brother?”, you asked, it’s been almost two years,

“They took you from me”, he said simply, “they took my son…”, he kept reaching for you, you tried to go to him but they grabbed you even tighter, “he is the sole reason… the mere thought of his existence, is what led me to win against my vicious uncle, is what gave me the strength…”

Your son was your reason to live, everyone else was gone, only he remained, you had to fight for him, you couldn’t leave him alone, you couldn’t leave him at Aemond’s mercy…. More tears fell from your eyes as you whimpered in fear

“Please… don’t harm him”, you whined, Aemond was so unpredictable, and his temper was feeble, you could never guess what he was going to do

“HARM HIM?”, he asked, enraged, “he is my son and heir… how could I ever harm him?”, he said, “I’ve killed for him…”

“What are you going to do?”, you asked then

He looked back at you, his gaze changed, fargone was the cruel and mean, his eye softened, his mouth untightened 

You hated him now

You did

And he could see it

“He is my son and heir, and I will say that publicly”, he said calmly, “I will take him with me abc to King’s Landing”

“NO!”, you fought to release yourself from their grasp, you did, “he is mine! he is mine!”, you screamed, Aerion began mumbling and whining, wanting to reach you again

“If you want to come with him, with me…”, he then smiled as yous tilled, “beg me for it”

“What?”, you whined

“Beg me to take you with me, beg for my forgiveness for abandoning me, and beg me to let you see my son”

“HE IS MINE!”, you cried, “he is mine you can’t take him!”

“Beg”, he demanded, you weep as the soldiers released you

You couldn't lose him, not your baby, you son

He could take him, he could command his soldiers to slice your neck right then and there, and your son would be alone

So with trembling legs, you fell to the ground, you heard your son whimper, threatening to start crying

And you kneeled in front of the man that raped you, that killed your brother and your stepfather

“Please”, you begged, “don’t take him from me… he is the only thing I have…”, you weeped, Aemond smiled widely 

“And what would you have me do?”, he asked

“Please I beg of you, take me with him”, you cried, “take me with you”, you continued, wiping your tears, “please, I’ll do whatever you want please, don’t take him away from me”

When Aerion realized that his “father” was not going to release him, he started crying loudly, wiggling and reaching even more strongly for you

“You'll do as commanded”, he said, his patience short, “or I will lock you up in the black cells and you will never see your son again”

“Please”, you begged, “not him”

“Very well”, he said, pleased 

Aemond got what he always wanted, he got you, and a son, and even though he reveled in the thought that he had tainted you with a bastard… he thought enough is enough

You kept your word, receiving Aemond in your bed, back in your life, you did everything he wanted

He kept his in turn, he married you through a Valyrian ceremony

Aegon died of his wounds, he left no children behind him, so Aemond was named King of the Seven Kingdoms, and your son was Prince of Dragonstone, and you, became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

Nobody complained about the fact that you were not married when he was born

Your life wasn’t happy… but Aemond was pleased with you, so he didn't harm you… much, and you were allowed to see your son everyday

You were never going to forgive him for killing your family, but you had no choice, but stand at his side

Once you were married, you got pregnant again, you gave birth to a little girl you named Aerea, an egg was placed in her crib, an old egg, that was of Aegon’s delusion, and against all odds, it hatched for her

Aemond was thrilled

he sat on the throne with his son perched on his leg, and his daughter in his arms

You actually helped him settle as King

You gave him two more children, a boy, Rhaegar, and three years later, another boy you named Maekar

You found consolation in your babies, and the fact that after you and Aemond are gone, your mother’s blood was going to sit the Iron Throne 

Edit

Aemond kept visiting Alys Rivers, his mistress, that relieved you, until her and her bastard's death at a fire in Harrenhal, nobody ever find the culprit, even though all eyes turned to Corlys Velaryon

THE END

taglist! ❤️

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle098-blog @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00fsadness @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @daemontargaryenwhore @bash1018 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ninastyless @strangersunghoon @bellstwd @yoshiplushie

[lo1k-diamonds]

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 7 (end)

"I said I like it fucking quiet.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi thought it would be bliss from now on, but not yet. Not until you both own the city.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: angst, plotting, kidnapping, blood, violence, knifes, guns, physical violence, death. (Am I forgetting something?)

A.N. Ahh, no way I could just let them be happy, okay? Not without suffering first, it's my style 🤣 Again, infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for helping me around the clock and being incredible betas! Check out their fics too! Now get ready 😎

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Chapter

Yoongi didn't know life could be like this. Once, he had been sold on that dream; it was the reason why he got married, bought a house, and started on the force. He wanted a loving home and family, and everyone told him to follow those steps to get there.

You were everything he had ever dreamed, immersing him in a bliss he never thought possible. That day, at the charity event, you took charge of things. You left with him, took him home, and spent the next twenty-four hours making up for the lost time. Your sheets didn't witness just your bodies reattuning to each other, but also the other moments when your hearts did. When you told him so much more about what you did, what you had in motion, what you proposed to secure both his and your positions, and how you planned on providing the best for your unborn child.

“Ours,” he corrected gently, kissing the back of your fingers.

You looked up with your head on his chest, and a moment later, you just nodded, “Ours.”

At that moment, he was willing to compromise for you — whatever you needed. He just didn't think it would come in the form of you not letting him leave.

He all but moved in with you soon after, and at 34 weeks, he believed he'd never leave. You adored snuggling up to him at all times of day, especially because he massaged you all over while you talked. Someone almost busted a plan of yours? You could vent while he thumbed the ball of your foot. A politician was acting ridiculous? Your hands and arms needed to let go of the stress you accumulated during the day. You had stood for hours at a charity event? Those idiots should be sued for having you standing like that; your legs needed the soothing of his fingers. You were still on your computer when he arrived home from work? Your shoulders needed to be relieved of the tension.

He still had to work and there was no way you'd pause your work, not when you had a grand plan to own the city, just like he suggested. You had decided you didn’t need to excel in every business you had to control the city, especially because the top was naturally the first to be challenged. You were too branched out, and it wouldn’t pay off — if you tried to dominate everyone, you were inviting multiple enemies to ally themselves to throw you down. Not even Yoongi would be able to help you, despite him assuring you he would. 

“I’m not interested in destroying what makes you our good half,” you had chuckled when he brought it up again. You looked beautiful under the dim lights of your bedroom, naked with your baby bump up, half lying on him in bed. This was something he couldn’t do without anymore. “We’re stronger if they don’t suspect you have hidden interests. If they think I’m a woman alone, I seem fragile. A kid will help. It’s all about finding the right balance, because if I’m too weak, they’ll destroy me. You can be our secret weapon.”

Your teasing grin as your tongue peeked between your teeth made him laugh. Ultimately, you knew your way around that world far better than he did. He’d always trust you with it.

Your strategy was to have insurance. If you had dirt on everyone and monopolized at least that market, you would be as safe as possible. Your downfall would just be too risky all around, and it would be less likely that your enemies would become friends trying to overthrow you. You wouldn’t be a significant enough threat to alarm other organizations, but you’d easily manipulate things in the shadows — everyone won.

You had started with medium management, as you liked to call it, and worked your way up. You already had a pretty big web of people working for you on the inside in various industries — other mob families, prisons, the police, the military, the entertainment and media conglomerates, even hospitals and pharmaceutical companies, without mentioning politics. Your tycoon status allowed you to keep an eye on the echelon, which meant you had everything covered. A politician wanted to do something you didn’t like? You knew of their kids’ DUIs, and the scandal was just too easy. Someone didn’t want to fundraise for the Mayor you had chosen? You had reports of companies faking quality control reports for products or negligence in the hospitals; you would leverage the media to destroy their business overnight. The media heads themselves didn’t want to cooperate? Too easy to leak footage of them in brothels or orgies that could ruin their entire reputation. And all mob families had their weaknesses; having people in the prisons and low-level thugs meant you’d know what you needed to keep them at bay. In essence, a network that gave you just enough to have leverage but not enough to be a direct threat to anyone.

He admired you for handling everything with such zeal and trusted you absolutely to take care of things. On his side, he was more worried about assuring the one thing you were most likely to overlook: your safety. First, he became intimately involved with your security details. All of your staff answered to him, which he liked. On top of that, he had his officers keeping an eye on you as well. Some probably suspected this wasn't about a case, but Yoongi didn't care as long as you were safe.

You had worked hard all over those months to carry out your master plan. It was ambitious, and if the pieces fell into place, not even Jae Seong Seok could touch you. The frustration was in getting the last piece of information — if you could find out who he was working with now, you'd be able to use your network and have him in your hand. But whoever he was working with, he was keeping it under wraps.

“It's ridiculous!” You whined, despite Yoongi massaging your shoulders. “It's a better kept secret than who the President's mistress is! Fuck!”

You jumped up from your office chair in a burst of anger, only to groan and take support on the desk. Yoongi was instantly behind you as you rubbed your swollen tummy; he didn't even flinch when you gave him a look between petulance and tiredness.

“It doesn’t matter—”

“It fucking does,” you insisted, falling back into him when he hugged you from behind. “Without knowing who is doing the Commissioner's bidding, we’re blind to his plans. It means we have a blind spot and—”

You held your breath, scrunching your nose with instant relief. He had just taken the weight out of your strained back by raising your belly, and you could breathe freely for a moment.

“Is that okay?” 

His voice was a whisper to your ear that had you sighing praises. He kissed your neck the whole time until he had to let go slowly, gently, distracting you with his lips on your skin before you’d get grumpy again.

“Didn’t you have someone on his team?”

“I lost them a couple of weeks after I told you that. He took exile in Heuksando last I heard.”

Your head fell back into his shoulder and he hummed, “I’m sure we’ll know something soon. Between your people and mine, we’re bound to hear or notice something. It’s a matter of time.” You pursed your lips, rubbing your belly again; time was a luxury you did not have. “Besides,” he spun you so you’d face him. “He’s not stupid. He wouldn’t just attempt to get rid of you; he probably knows we’re together.”

Your expression didn’t smooth, “For as long as he does bullshit without us knowing, we won't own the city.”

He nuzzled you, “He’s just one man. One tiny, meaningless man. Don’t worry about it.”

You didn’t seem fully convinced but you definitely relaxed in his arms that night, and the few nights after. Yoongi believed what he had told you: if the both of you were blinded to the Commissioner’s movements, then he was to yours too. You were stronger than him, you were together. You were bound to win.

But that night when he drove to the Aether at the maximum speed his car allowed, he wondered if he’d been too naive. If it was right to think that owning 98% of the city was enough to protect you and your child, only to learn the worst way possible that it could all fall through the cracks.

He arrived at the club, and from the outside it might have looked like the security were handling a typical problem, like a rowdy customer. When Thoma greeted him at the entrance, Yoongi followed him hurriedly, his blood freezing inside his veins. Your head of security didn’t just make that face for no reason.

Still, Yoongi couldn’t have believed it until he saw it with his own eyes. Before he got to your office, he passed your security and staff being checked by medics in the hallway, some even bleeding on the floor, almost passed out. Yet, when he entered your office, the situation dawned on him.

You had put up a fight. Your office was completely upside down, with your screen and papers on the floor, fallen chair, and broken glass everywhere. There was blood on the floor, which he kneeled to see. His fists closed instantly at the thought of you getting hurt, but maybe you had hurt them instead before they took you. You were good with your knife. He looked around; he couldn’t see it anywhere.

He got up, “Who the fuck?”

He asked simply, quietly, and Thoma answered, “Look at the back of the door.”

Yoongi turned, his dark eyes scanning the open door for traces of it being used or handled some way. His long, black raincoat billowed behind him as he moved and quickly used a glove to push the door closed.

I also prefer it quiet.

The scribbles or the paper glued to the door made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Does it mean anything to you?”

Yoongi’s eyes were the color of death, “Yes, and it does for you, too. You’re going to do exactly as I say.”

Thoma disagreed with Yoongi’s instructions, but he’d carry them out anyway. Yoongi didn’t care about the man’s opinion; it wasn’t him who was about to lose his whole life to a bug he didn't squish properly.

When Yoongi had decided to help you back when it was a conscious decision. Not just to step into your life, but to stay in it. To make it better. To use what he had at his disposal to do so. He didn’t regret it for a second, not even now. Some would say he was reaping what he sowed, but that was a stupid understanding of the situation. A coward’s subservient view on what was happening — when they touched you, they knew there were only two possible outcomes. And for Yoongi, there was only one. 

Of course, Thoma didn’t like calling the police and reporting the assault or that you were kidnapped. But the police responded to Yoongi in that area, so that wasn’t the problem. He didn’t like that he was to play dumb and not tell them who had done it. Eventually, they would be shown footage that Officer Jung could recognize, all to buy Yoongi the right amount of time. 

Because to Yoongi there was only one outcome. As he stopped in a hidden alley without cameras, he opened the trunk of his car and pulled the bottom to reveal a secret compartment where he had an arsenal. He picked and loaded a pistol, screwed in the silencer, and hid it along with magazines under his long raincoat. Then, he made his way to the back of the Evgeni Sports Center.

Yoongi refused one of the possible outcomes as if it wasn’t possible. That was maybe why he entered the building casually and unnoticed amidst a football game, making the big crowd watching it on the flat screen completely wild. The beer was plentiful, as were the cheers, and he was able to swiftly enter the kitchen in the back, where the staff didn’t dare look at him. He was a man with a purpose and only one option.

When he reached the back door and went down the stairs, he grabbed his pistol and started his work. There was only one justice down there — the one he inflicted himself. Big or small, he didn’t care. People fell like flies before the commotion began and even then, to reach him was a nearly impossible task. He was an agent of death dealing it swiftly to everyone who had dared to condone this heinous crime. To touch you at any point would have been dangerous, but now? It was a death wish — the only possible outcome.

Blood tainted the walls at his passage while he shot, punched, and kicked whoever dared to stand in his way to find you. He noticed the heavy metal doors, knowing they hid bullshit that wasn’t meant to be found, but he continued. It would be a shit show, but he didn’t care. His officers would show and turn the place upside down. Weapons? Drugs? Torturing people? He huffed and wiped the blood off his knuckles; all fine and dandy, but not what he was looking for.

He didn’t mean to, but he ended up cleaning that floor like it was a military operation. No one but people being tortured were left alive in his wake; no witnesses, no surprises. All he wanted was you, he’d leave once he got what he came for.

He held his gun up and in position as he faced the last door at the end of the corridor. It took him one second to calculate the odds of finding you there. Then he risked it and opened it, only for a kick to hit his hands hard.

He grunted, and although he didn’t instantly loosen his grip on the weapon, a punch to his back made his form crumble.

A series of punches made him grunt and raise his arms to defend himself, and a careful dance ensued. Yoongi almost lost his patience as he handled that single amazing enemy, but then two things happened: his pistol fell to the floor, and he saw you.

You were sitting on a lonesome chair in the middle of that humid, dark storage room, tied and pale. He instantly saw your shining eyes and the hairs glued to your forehead with sweat, your chest heaving tensely over your swollen belly, and knew he hadn’t come fast enough. He needed to get to you.

Those fuckers just had to keep their strongest guy next to you. It pissed Yoongi off; he much rather shoot him too. But he was forced to fight and manage the situation, not letting him get near you or the gun.

After a succession of punches and counters, Yoongi landed a punch on the guy’s ear and made a judgment call that put everything in jeopardy — he ran to you. Your eyes widened, seeing the guy behind Yoongi rush for the gun on the floor. He was dizzy from the punch, and your brain struggled — even if you warned him, Yoongi would never make it back in time to grab it.

So you shook your leg frantically, “The knife!”

Yoongi rushed to kneel before you and grab the knife, thinking to use it to set you free, but you kicked him as hard as you could.

A gunshot echoed and Yoongi’s breath caught as he fell back to the floor. For a second, he thought his life was over — not because he had been shot, but because you had.

But a split second was enough to hear the bullet ricocheting off somewhere and hear the guy fall to the floor. Yoongi’s training kicked in and two seconds later, he was on top of the guy, trying to finish it. His enemy was brave, dizzy, and without balance, but he was still a tougher foe than most people Yoongi had encountered in his career or training. The pistol had fallen somewhere when the guy had lost his balance, so it was all about the knife. They started fighting for it and in a slip of his hand, the guy caught it, and slash.

Yoongi grunted and fell back, holding onto his face more with shock and instinct, than actual pain. He thought he was blind for a moment, feeling something thick on his fingers while his sight darkened, but he couldn’t stop. To stop was to endanger you, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. He opened his good eye and, seeing the guy with his back turned advancing toward you, Yoongi rushed to kick him as hard as he could in the back of the knee.

The guy fell forward with a grunt, letting the knife fly away, and in your attempts to escape him, you leaned back on the chair. The push was enough to make you gasp and fall back with a bang that scared Yoongi shitless. His head was hurting, and along with the blood covering his eye, it put him off balance, to his frustration. He gritted his teeth, trying to get to the fallen guy by crawling; it wasn’t like it was his ears, so his balance was fine. It was just his damn eye!

But he didn’t move fast enough; suddenly, he heard steps rushing and tried to get back on track and jump on the guy, but he couldn’t see him. It was too late.

A gunshot echoed again, and this time a body hit the floor. Yoongi sat up and rubbed at his eyes roughly, widening his eyes to check on you , and there you were. In the same dress as this morning, though covered in sweat, dry blood, dust and now even chair bits from when it shattered with your fall, standing a few steps away from him, emotionlessly eying the guy you had shot in the head.

Then, you rushed to his side and kneeled. Yoongi wanted to grab you close, speechless, but you grabbed his head instead and brushed his longer dark hair aside.

You sighed in relief, “You’re okay, it’s just a scratch.”

He blinked at you, finally acknowledging the sting on his eyelid and cheek and that he could see fine, but instantly it didn’t matter. He widened his eyes at you, raising his arms around you, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

You meant to get up, but you groaned. Something wasn’t right.

Yoongi called your name and you looked at him. It was as though you had gone deaf; his lips were moving but you could barely hear him.

“You’re bleeding.”

“What?”

“You’re bleeding,” he repeated, supporting you more steadily, trying to calm you, but you were confused.

“I’m not, I’m fine. I wasn’t shot.”

“No,” he brushed your cheeks gently, trying to make you focus. “You’re bleeding.”

It was like a CD entered the slot and it finally dawned reality on you. You looked down, holding onto his arms around you, and the pain hit you like a truck. You were bleeding down your legs, and suddenly you were dizzy. Your legs couldn’t hold you; you only wanted to curl around yourself and he let you down slowly.

“It hurts—”

“Breathe.”

Yoongi started the breathing exercises you both had learned but the way you glared at him was enough.

“I’ll carry you out. Ready?”

Your groan had a pitch of fear, but you bit your lip and screamed through the pain as he lifted you in his arms. Everything was a blur; hot and cold sweats going up and down your spine as you tried not to scream your pain out. It was visceral, terrifying, and rife with despair— something was wrong. You needed help. Now.

Once upstairs, people had scattered in a commotion, but fortunately, it seemed nobody quite knew what was going on. Some were running outside, others were filming, but the center's staff was surprisingly quiet. It was almost like suddenly, there was no one to take charge.

Fortunately, an ambulance had already been called to tend to the reported distress at the building. So when Yoongi stepped out with you in his arms, the paramedics quickly turned to the pregnant person with a bloody dress instead of a drunk making a scene.

In a matter of seconds, you were on a stretcher being carried inside the ambulance, and Yoongi wanted to go with you. 

But you held his hand, “No.”

He frowned, but you just looked behind him and then gave him a look, and he understood. He let go of your hand and instantly turned back as swiftly as possible. The crowd was in shock with the reported noise and the bloodied pregnant woman that just passed by them, and so, distracted.

Yoongi rushed downstairs, leaving the door closed behind him. He grabbed your blade and his pistol, then quickly looked around. It was a storage room with all sorts of boxes and containers, and he needed something that could destroy evidence fast, but not so fast that all the people tied up in other rooms, bleeding to death, couldn’t be rescued in time.

In the end, he found flammable paint and poured it on stacks of documents far back in the room before setting them on fire with a lighter. He hoped the humidity made the fire spread slowly enough, but even just the water from the sprinklers would help once they were triggered.

After dealing with that, he made his way completely upstairs through another set of stairs that weren’t accessible to the public. 

He had been there before, so he knew exactly where to go and that there were no cameras. He assumed he had killed most of the goons because only a handful tried to stop him. By then, he had reloaded, and nothing could stand in his way. Something was wrong; you weren’t supposed to be bleeding. It was too soon. It was all those fuckers fault!

He reached the office of Prokhor Evgeni and staggered for a second — Jae Seong Seok was sitting right there as though he had had an audience with the Russian. Both older men looked scared, which made the situation strange, almost comical. Only Yoongi wasn’t in a laughing mood; he raised his pistol and shot precisely twice.

Each man fell back onto their chair or on the floor while Yoongi pushed his hair back with annoyance, flaring, “I said I like it fucking quiet.”

Before his anger could go further, his phone started buzzing inside his pocket, and he sobered up. That meant Thoma had told Officer Jung what he needed to know; that signaled that the force was establishing a perimeter and a team to swarm the place.

He holstered his gun on his belt, then quickly put on gloves and searched for each man’s guns. Prokhor had one in his desk drawer, and Yoongi used it to shoot Jae Seong Seok a couple of times before shooting all around the room and throwing it on the floor. The Commissioner had a revolver with him, and it wasn’t hard to shoot in Prokhor’s direction and simulate a scene. Would it raise questions? Absolutely. But the more questions it raised, the harder it would be to get to the actual truth.

Yoongi went downstairs and blended in with the crowd still lingering about before reaching for the fire alarm to pull it. A loud siren went off, and the fire in the basement must have finally triggered the sprinklers because they went off, too. He made his way out amongst everybody else. Then, he faced the sky and started laughing.

He thought to just take out his raincoat so no one would know he was inside, but it was raining outside. So he stood there under the rain, smirking, letting it wash away the blood from his face, clothes, and any evidence that he had been inside.

He stood under the elements the whole time, the image of diligence coordinating the police and firemen who responded to the scene. It was a bloodbath and instantly the bodies became the reason for a national scandal. The media couldn’t get enough of it, especially the bit about the Commissioner and the Head of a Mafia family. The officers, though, were more inclined to believe the Commissioner had come to save you in person, and something had gone wrong. Maybe your child was even his. It would make sense, considering both your statuses. Maybe you were having an affair.

Yoongi focused on making sure that everything was accounted for, even the witnesses that said he was seen before the firemen and police arrived. He made sure their statement was taken too because they were contradictory with other witnesses. Some saw him carrying a pregnant lady, some only saw him when the alarm went off. The more information the police had, the better.

But it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about you. He understood why you asked him to stay, he needed to finish things and handle the outcome. After all, you both needed to own that city.

But he was dying to hear news from you. He had texted your people as soon as he had a second, so he knew they were with you, but still. Waiting just wasn’t possible, not tonight.

He was smoking and wrapping up the last details before the scene could be sealed when his phone buzzed inside his pocket. He picked it up this time, and the wails of a baby caught his breath.

“Is it done?”

“Yes,” he breathed, then he closed his eyes. “Our boy?”

“Eager to meet you.”

“You?”

“Come see for yourself.”

He didn’t need anything else to tell the last Officers on the scene he was leaving. He walked away to reach his car, then drove calmly to the hospital. He was drenched, so he left his raincoat inside the car and got on the elevator straight to the level you were in.

You were in a private, spacious room with everything you could need. It was just you, already wearing something of your own under the sheets, snoozing with a baby to your chest. Yoongi neared you and kissed your forehead, closing his eyes with the relief flooding him. You awoke with his touch and leaned in closer. He smelled of rain and new beginnings.

When he pulled away, you reached to touch the cut. Someone had cleaned it, leaving it red and furious across his eye, top to bottom. Looking into each other’s eyes, you knew the other was fine. Each with your own pain, but united in that moment, at last.

Finally, Yoongi took a look at his son. He was reddened too, with puffy cheeks and pouty lips, just like yours. He leaned in to kiss and nuzzle his son with a heart so full, he couldn’t speak. All he could do was sit on the bed, embracing you and him in his arms. 

You were looking at your baby before you noticed your position, englobing your son on two fronts, completely. Your lips curved, and you looked at Yoongi. You had finally won.

There we have it! I hope it was a nice, wild ride! 😁👋💜

[tyxoxo]

hello!! i just read your nomin smut, and if we still can, i wanna request #7 and #13 for the nsfw dialogue prompts with them

[“Can you guys just fuck already?” +“Did I just say that out loud?”]

warnings: haechan is a perv, implied blackmail, fruity nomin, throuple, oral, facefucking, exhibitionism/voyeurism

a/n: since i didn’t want this to be a copy of my last one, i added haechan in the mix. i hope that’s okay 😭

“I don’t know why I agreed to this.” Jeno spoke into the palms of his hands, followed by a heavy sigh. Would he end up regretting this decision? Maybe.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. You won’t even know I’m here.” Haechan said with a smirk. He was awfully smug, eager to watch his two friends absolutely destroy their shared girlfriend, and ultimately cash in on the show of a lifetime. 

You, Jeno, and Jaemin all gave a “bullshit” expression, eyes darting over to the boy sitting on your reading couch in the corner of the bedroom. 

Neither one of you believed his jest, and judging by the laugh he tried to hold in, it only brought more truth to his mischief. 

Somehow, through blackmail as you would like to call it, he found out about your combined throuple after walking in on Jeno and Jaemin unloading on your face just a week prior.

It was bound to happen, not only from the three of them rooming together (not including Renjun), but because Haechan was a perv. 

You almost wished it was sweet little Renjun that stumbled upon it, because maybe then you wouldn’t be here like this.

Of course you were mortified when it happened—a cup's worth of jizz on your face right as he “walked in”, blinding you from all aspects of degeneracy. Jeno and Jaemin’s heavy groans masking the sound of the door being opened, and the only indication of a disturbance was Jeno’s sixth sense; being able to feel a fourth presence behind him. You couldn’t even open your eyes and stand up properly when you heard him yell, relying solely on Jaemin to guide you to the bathroom while Jeno remained in the room ripping Haechan apart. 

No amount of “sorry’s” would have calmed down their anger, especially Jeno’s. And for your sake, Jaemin diffused the situation while you took refuge in the kitchen, binging on dry cereal to calm your nerves. 

Hoping to put the horrid event behind you, all of you tried to carry on like nothing happened, with Jeno threatening once to kill Haechan if Renjun found out. 

So far, so good.

But somehow the bastard made a proposition later that night: either let him watch a second time or he’ll not only tell Renjun, but the rest of his “buddies” that we didn’t even know about. 

Jaemin tried to call his bluff, saying that there was no way he had other “friends” out there, and if he did, they were just as stupid as him.

Of course, he had proof. With a list of contacts just waiting to be informed. 

Discussing such a topic was not how Jeno and Jaemin wanted to spend their night: dealing with an awful case of post-nut dysphoria. 

And such a “deal” almost made the three of you wonder if there was a recording hidden behind his scheme. 

—

Now here you were, having already tried to drag out the inevitable for a week now. But you honestly wanted this over with; whatever to secure your modesty that should’ve been kept within the comfort of your two partners. 

“You know I could still kill you right?”

Jeno spat passed his palms as he sat slouched on the edge of the bed. The only noble thing you could provide was a pat and rub of his back, occasionally scratching across his spine because you knew deep down that he loved it. 

Surprisingly, it helped him ease up, but you still had Jaemin on your other side, trying his hardest to be the pacifist.

You looked over to the left at his incredulous expression, using your other hand to rub along his thigh for assurance. He met your eyes, slightly smiling as if he wasn’t the tiniest bit annoyed.

“Let’s just do this. I’m sure it’ll relieve some stress once we get started.” Jaemin huffed out, leaning forward to look at Jeno to formally initiate the evening.

“Wait before we start, give us your phone!” 

“Good idea…fucking christ.” 

Somehow Jaemin chuckled at Jeno’s pained exclamation, only adding more fuel to the fire.   

You thanked your last minute effort to keep this in the walls of this room only, successfully confiscating his means of extortion.

Haechan seemed to get comfortable after you placed it far away on the nightstand. And the three of you had no choice but to carry on.

As soon as you sat back down on the bed in between them, they got to work on your flimsy pajama shirt, raising it above your head to expose your chest.

Because of the additional body in the room, you almost covered your breasts out of instinct, but none of it mattered once Jaemin’s kisses lingered in that direction.

Meanwhile, Jeno got to the usual work of devouring your lips and grasping your cheek, sucking just as passionately as Jaemin did to your nipples.

Your hands matched the same energy, inching down towards their respective packages, where your eyes blew wide through Jeno’s kisses at the fact that they weren’t as flaccid as you thought they would be.

“What’s that look for sweetheart?” 

Haechan spoke quietly, but with just as much weight. You didn’t dare look in his direction, nor acknowledge his question. 

But Jeno helped speak your mind, way better than you would have been able to.

“Shut the fuck up Haechan…” Jeno’s words went from biting, to becoming lost in translation as he held in a groan. You began to stroke both of them through their basketball shorts, giving the perfect amount of friction against the nylon material.

You multi-tasked well, being able to keep a steady pace considering Jaemin swirled his tongue so skillfully across your raised nipples. Even tugging harder than he normally would, most likely to distract you from the sore thumb sitting in the corner.

But you spoke too soon, as your peacemaker boyfriend left his hand in place of his warm tongue to get a taste of both of you.

There was no hesitation, not even from Jeno as all three of you conjoined your tongues as best as you could—licking, sucking, smacking, all of the above to overpower the sounds of Haechan working to undo his zipper. 

You never got tired of their unique flavors, whether it was from their mouths or their cocks. And to be able to claim them as yours, brought so much fun into your life; an entire glass full of excitement and scorching hot thrills.

You felt Jeno’s unoccupied hand, all the way down to the contours of his palm lines as he cupped your clothed core. His prominent middle finger poked along your warm slit, tickling up your spine and back down into your pelvis like a surge of electricity.

“Are you gonna let me taste you? Hmm?” Jeno broke the mile long kiss of a lifetime, to whisper against your now-swollen lips. You seemed to have fallen drunk to their charisma, but with the help of Jaemin, he brought you back down to a measly level of sobriety with a harsh squish of your cheeks to elicit a response.

“Yes…please, I love when you eat my pussy….” 

“Good girl…” Jaemin cooed against your neck before forming a line with his saliva, from your racing pulse all the way up the back of your ear. You shuddered from the warmth, to which he smiled for the first time.

The weight of the bed felt lighter for a split second, as Jeno positioned himself in between your thighs. Jaemin fell back with you against the mattress right as you missed the death glare Jeno gave Haechan as they locked eyes.

Of course, the perv had already freed his dick from his boxers, sitting in the most splayed out position on the small cushion.

Jeno told himself he would try his best not to acknowledge his roommate's presence, but he just thought of the most wonderful idea…

His lean frame still blocked most of Haechan’s view as he pulled down your velvet pajama shorts in a flash, but one way or another, Jeno was going to make sure Haechan got to hear just how good he made you feel. 

You yelped from the cold air that immediately hit your core, but the sudden change in temperature didn’t last long. He pried your legs far apart, inhaling deeply as he licked a stripe from the crevice of your ass all the way to your pulsing clit.

Jaemin swallowed the sigh of relief that bloomed from your heavenly chords, and continued to eat up every whimper as Jeno began to devour you.

Haechan’s mouth hung open, completely overwhelmed by the sound of Jeno slurping up your juices. He just knew you tasted as good as you looked. 

Deep down, he envied Jeno’s animalistic desire and the rewards that came with it. Why couldn’t it have been him that got to grip the soft flesh of your thighs, lick in between your folds with however much desperation he wanted. 

Nonetheless, Haechan stroked his leaking cock, even faster now that he saw Jaemin doing the same as he continued to kiss you. 

But he managed to dart his eyes everywhere, from Jaemin’s hard length, to your wiggling body, and from what he could see of your dripping pussy. 

“You taste so good…so perfect.” 

Jeno’s words were muffled at best, but that was okay, he knew Haechan heard every word.

“Did you hear that baby? You taste amazing, like always…” 

Jaemin spoke in between his sloppy kisses, making sure you soaked in all of the praise before it was his turn to claim you. And eventually, he kept his eyes locked onto Jeno, the two of them sharing a telepathic high-five at their own game of bragging. You unknowingly backed up their tactics as you raked your fingers through Jeno’s hair, ushering him further in between your thighs. 

You gave what Jaemin liked to call, a “cutesy nod” as you caught your breath, something you always did when the pleasure became too much. But who could blame you, when the high built up like a drug—like your very own narcotic that you could seize whenever you wanted.

“I deserve a taste too…” Jaemin called for the switch, despite your orgasm approaching. You whined from the emptiness as Jeno rose up, slapping your thigh before he left you. The sting managed to surge all the way to your clit, causing your exposed body to jerk in front of Haechan. 

Finally, he was able to see all of you. Even if it was for a few blinks, you were everything he fantasized about and more.

Absolute perfection—completely drenched, chest glistening with a thin sheet of sweat.

But even Haechan was getting impatient, he was still waiting on you to be fucked. And if it didn’t happen soon, his own impending orgasm would be ruined.

He paused on his own pleasure, choosing to catch his breath while his two roommates undressed and got in their respective positions. Jeno remained to the left of you on the bed, giving Haechan a clear view of when he would fill your mouth from the side. Although Jeno towered over you, he still offered some assistance as you propped yourself up on your elbows. One hand rested behind you to support your head and neck, and the other gripped his rock-hard length, just waiting to slip past your lips.

Jaemin was down below like you expected, peckering small kisses along the inside of your thighs. You could feel his smile as he gave another kiss, this time on your clit. It felt just like Jaemin; even if you were blinded, you would immediately be able to tell it was him: being the mascot for all of the edgers and teasers, while Jeno reigned over the savages and deviants with pride. 

And you were always in the middle of it, ready and willing to be sucked into the wild ride.

The night's events started up again, with Haechan being able to see a whole lot more now. He watched as you welcomed Jeno into your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat like an absolute doll.

You pushed through the edging that Jaemin unleashed upon you, bobbing your head up and down on Jeno’s length instantly. 

His abs tensed with every connection of your nose to his groin, causing Haechan to forge a death grip around his cock as he eye’s trailed up to Jeno’s furrowed brow from your luscious enthusiasm.

Despite being obstructed from the amount of dick in your mouth, you let a series of whimpers slip past Jeno’s accompaniment while Jaemin sucked along your folds like candy. 

It was your duty to let him know he was doing so well, and how you grinded against his mouth told him so. 

His tongue formed so many different shapes as he indulged; flattening like a board when he made contact with your wet lips, and perking up to tap along your sensitive nub to feel it twitch.

“Don’t fucking stop. Keep taking me all the way in…” Jeno’s demands from up above were a sign that you were losing focus. Your release was so close, and too powerful to let go of.

And if Jaemin backed off of you like he was known to do, you could honestly cry.

“I can tell you’re close love. Try and beg for me.” Jaemin cooed against your wet mound, offering a challenge that would make or break your orgasm.

Jaemin commanded one thing, while Jeno commanded another: either let up and beg, or risk a brutal reprimand if you didn’t keep your mouth where it belonged. 

You were ready to make your final decision when—

“Can you guys just fuck already?”

“Fuck…did I just say that out loud?” 

The nuisance that you almost forgot about, made his presence known again. 

Although it was a whisper, it was heard clearly, being enough to make you whine in disappointment from yet another denied orgasm as Jaemin backed away from your core. Your mouth left Jeno, much to his dismay as he left out a pained groan. All you could do was fall backwards on the bed, fighting back the urge to scream. 

“You better be glad I’m too far gone to do anything right now.” Jeno spat as he raked his hands through his locks that were beginning to stick to his forehead, ultimately searching for a “happy place” in the process.

“Unreal…”

You didn’t let Jaemin finish the rest of his possible rant, instead choosing to voice your distress.

“Please! I was so close!”

You screamed into the palms of your hands, fanning your butterflied legs back and forth to take your mind off your aching pussy. 

Jeno and Jaemin hated to admit it, but your desperation was hot. Their pervert roommate indirectly attributed to your edging, and seeing you become a crumbled mess on the sheets only fueled their sadistic tendencies even more. Though, they would rather burn in hell before ever crediting the dead weight in the corner.

All three boys formed a look of intrigue, with Jaemin initiating your well-deserved ending with a simple nod and cheeky grin.

With your head still in your hands, and a moment of silence, it was too late for you to catch their plan. And before you knew it, Jaemin stood in front of your sprawled figure, lifting one leg on his shoulder as he pistoned inside you.

You didn’t expect it at all. In fact, you thought the night was over. But here you were, raising your upper body to watch Jaemin stuff you to the hilt. Unbelievable.

“Fuck!!” Your cries of pleasure matched your reaction; with all of this liberation being long overdue. 

Jaemin’s own sigh of relief looped through your brain, creating your very own broken record from his satisfaction. 

For the first time, you decided to let your eyes drift past your hard working boyfriend and over to the boy in the corner. 

He was in heaven.  

Disheveled hair from countless times of sweeping his bangs out of his face to get a proper view. Bottom lip puffed red from incessant chewing. And skin flushed golden from the speed at which he stroked his cock.

Your witness to his own undoing caused a shift within you, and you felt so fucked up from not wanting to look away. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

Jaemin teased as if he wasn’t pounding you into oblivion, but you felt too flustered to admit it. Especially now that Jeno was going to prevent any flattering remarks with a simple, yet effective facefuck.

He had always been the jealous type after all.

Soon after Jaemin entered you, Jeno did a makeshift 69 position, choosing to arch his upper body as high as it would go. His clenched fists rested on both sides of your body, relying solely on familiarity to direct his length inside your mouth. 

To him, this was the best way to dissolve the anger that manifested over the course of a week.

You tried your best to prepare your throat, but the pressure from this angle caused you to heave around him. Jeno could care less if you couldn’t take it like this, practice makes perfect. 

He wasted no time, practically laying into your face with no intention of going easy. 

“Look who’s enjoying it now?” 

Jeno had reached borderline-feral, and he had every right to back up his degrading with how well he used your throat.

Not only were your ears ringing, but your entire neck felt like it was burning, and it didn’t help that the echoes of skin slapping had magnified. At this rate of filth, you weren’t going to last. And Jaemin could feel you getting closer with every contraction around his cock, but he reassured that he would be right there with you soon, 

“So happy I get to fill this pussy…” 

Only a few more shaky breaths remained as Jaemin emptied everything he had to offer inside your walls, forming a white ring of your combined juices along his shaft with every thrust.  

The entire atmosphere felt light as you attempted to voice your orgasm through the cock stabbing at the back of your throat, but all you could do was reach up and grip Jeno’s wrists for support as the familiar band snapped along every inch of your body. You gripped his wrists even tighter, digging your nails into the veins that decorated his arms.

Jeno intermixed his shaming in between his groans effortlessly, reminding you that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Nope. I’m staying right here. Right where I…belong.”  

His last word signaled the explosion, forcing so much of his cum that it bubbled past your abused hole in thickened spurts. 

You massed together the last remaining strength you could to smack Jeno’s arms as you floated away into near unconsciousness. Fortunately for you, he backed out just as quickly as he entered, unleashing a series of smacks to your cheeks to bring you back down to earth.

You didn’t even notice or feel that his cum had splashed out onto your eyes once he gave you the freedom to breathe. Regardless of the déjà vu, this was the most euphoric you had ever felt in a while, and you knew they felt the same too. 

Jaemin had just experienced the effects of the comedown as Jeno laid next to you, and he would have remained inside you for a little while longer had it not been for his mental reminder of his roommate. 

Because of your intuition, you knew Haechan probably looked completely stunned after his own release. You couldn’t see anything with the cum painted on your face, but you could hear those unfamiliar breaths coming from him in the corner. 

But now that you all followed through with the deal, it was time for a well-deserved aftercare session without him. And if he had to leave the house entirely for the sake of some privacy, so be it.

Jeno must’ve read your mind, as you heard him reach over for Haechan’s phone on the nightstand.

“Alright, time to go. And we mean go go.”

You let the two of them continue with their bickering as Jaemin leaned over to pick you up within his broad fame while still inside you.

“Here, let me help you…and then how about a movie after?” 

His endearing tone soothed you beyond comprehension, and you clung onto him like a koala as he began walking, presumably towards the drawer to grab one of his t-shirts for you to wear after being cleaned up.

You nodded before turning your direction to the sound of Jeno escorting Haechan out, followed by a loud crash.

“What the fuck dude?!” 

You heard Haechan shout, followed by running steps towards his phone that had been chucked down the hall.

The last thing to end the night was the loud slam of the bedroom door and Jeno’s dark humor, 

“If you see me on the news later, it’s because I’m wanted for murder.”

why have majority of my requests been crack i-

[karmavongrim]

Love Spell fanfic idea

DP x DC fanfiction idea named "Love Spell" that I have been mulling over the past couple of weeks.

Klarion x Danny shipping (Chaotic Spirits) story, because why not and it would be fun to write about the chaos these two could cause.

Took some inspiration from this, this, bit of this and this.

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

Danny really didn’t know whatever he should laugh, cry or flip the nearest table he could get his hands on. He never really thought highly of the Justice League to begin with, hell, you would be hard-pressed to find anybody in Amity Park who did nowadays.

But this… this could just as well take the metaphorical cake of bullshit that has been piling up over the past three years.

He took a deep, measured breath before focusing back on his boyfriend. His sweet, lovable, very-much-chaotic-immortal-man-child of a boyfriend.

“...They think I’m what now?”

On the other side of this conversation sat Klarion, the witch boy extraordinaire, who was combing his slender fingers delicately through his precious familiar’s fur as he watches his beloved having a hard time grasping at the situation. And since he thought of himself to be a rather fantastic boyfriend, he repeated what he said.

“The League of Simpletons have somehow gotten in their heads that I must have enthralled you in one way or another in order to get my hands on some ultimate power, as part of my apparently evil master plan.”

Danny took another breath, this was just getting ridiculous. But then again what else was new, these people really knew how to make a mountains out of a molehills. Even Wes didn’t have this severe of an apophenia, he at least ended up being right more often than not.

“So they think you’ve put me under a love spell or something?”

Klarion merely shrugged in mock-helplessness. “Apparently you wouldn’t be dating me otherwise.” In all honesty he probably shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he currently is, but he couldn’t help himself.

His ever present smirk widened when his beloved Starlight’s face twitched in irritation. “For Ancient’s sake… seriously?” A simple nod was enough for Danny to want to throw the next Justice Idiot who was stupid enough to come close to Amity Park’s boarders through the nearest window!

Calm down Danny, calm down. Just remember Jazz’s breathing exercise. One… two… three…

…

Wait a minute… would that mean- no way in hell way they’ve been…

“Wait a minute- Is that the fucking reason why they’ve constantly been ruining our dates these past few months!?”

Another nod.

Yeah, fuck being calm and shit, ya boy is absolutely livid! All this time they were doing it on fucking purpose!! He so is going to burn all of their ugly ass capes and dye all their ugly ass costumes pink! Better yet, he’ll paint their entire HQ with the most obnoxious and clashing colours possible.

Klarion let the halfa rage about for a good moment before interjecting. It wouldn’t do to have the lounge destroyed, especially when that energy could be used on something else he has in mind.

“We could have fun with this you know, at their expense.���

Danny stopped in his track and turned his inquiry gaze towards Klarion. He knows that smile and it could only mean trouble, trouble which he was more than willing to partake in. A smirk of his own began to grace his lips. “What do you have in mind exactly?”

Once again Klarion was reminded why he’s dating this gorgeous creature in the first place. Trust him to be able to match his chaotic nature despite his hero persona.

“Oh you are going to love it, my dear.”

[yuseirra]

Seriously though, it’s so, so strange… Really strange.

What’s odd is that, just now, I opened the manga to reference it for my work, and I’m thinking… Why do I still feel like Ai chose the best possible person among those she could have? Even after seeing everything that became of him?

Why do I still feel like she found someone truly good—someone absolutely worthy of love? If I were the writer, I’d want Ai to meet such a person. So emotionally, I can accept this, but looking at how the story is unfolding, I’m confused about how it’s supposed to make sense. I want it to end this way, and emotionally, I’m convinced it will. But logically, it’s hard to imagine what path the story will take to get there.

How can I still be so strongly convinced that Ai’s boyfriend, at his core, has one of the most genuinely good personalities in the entire series? No one’s ever told me he was a good person. In fact, there’s been a lot of negative impressions about him, but somehow, this feeling pushes through all of that. How?

I can’t shake the thought that someone with a nature like his couldn’t just twist like this on his own.

There were bad circumstances, despair, incredibly poor luck, and the guilt he’s carried—sure, that’s all there. And narratively, it makes sense. He’s written in a way that he couldn’t help but deeply, deeply love Ai, so after her death, of course, he wouldn’t be okay. How could he be?

But something else pushed him beyond the point of normal breakdown. It feels like something shattered him far more than what he could have endured naturally. It’s as if something made him lose his mind completely. It’s too strange. Why do I feel this way?

But when the line about him having a “noble soul” came up, I accepted it immediately. I thought, of course. It felt so obvious to me that I wondered why it hadn’t come up sooner. It was exactly what I expected.

Ai really did find someone who wanted to be with her forever, someone truly good. I am convinced yet again. That feeling strikes me really strongly.

But how did he end up like this? I have some ideas, but I can’t know what the author has in mind. And no matter how much a reader tries to predict a series still in progress, ultimately, it’s up to the author, right?

He’s barely appeared in the story, yet why do I feel so strongly about this?;;; Why do I feel like this? But I’m still relying on that feeling when I draw fan art.

It’s so strange…

He’s an extraordinarily kind person, I think? but… this is strange. Why do I feel this way after seeing everything?;;; What’s going on? Why am I like this?

The good thing is, with a personality like that, I know I can handle him well. I always love these types of characters, so drawing him would be fun. But really… is this right? I mean, he’s someone who is accused of having killed many people and even tried to kill his own daughter—how could this feeling even be correct?

One more thing I’ve noticed—if just two or three good things had happened to him along the way, Kamiki wouldn’t have ended up so broken.

When I think about what the author is trying to show by completely destroying a character who was once so gentle…

I think I get it. There could be a message that can be derived from it, if I'm inferring things right. But… I’m not sure because I'm not the writer themselves, so… haha.

Ah, if I couldn’t sense anything, I’d just shut off my brain and go along with whatever, I wouldn't care at all. I keep feeling like I see something faint, though, so I keep talking about it. But since there’s no certainty, I feel like I’m making a fool of myself.

Ah. Really… I rarely misread these kinds of things. He’s such a fundamentally good person… I wish they’d show more clearly how he ended up like this. He’s worth studying. Since both of the authors are so skilled in psychological portrayal, I’m sure they’ll express this in a way that makes sense. I feel like I could predict it, but it’s still too vague for me to say.

These intuitions are so hard to explain. But they’re usually right. I don’t get these things wrong often… So for now, I’m just writing it down because feelings are fleeting and I would think of different things at different time. These little notes live in the now.

[shutupineedtothink]

Post Ep 6 Theory: Billy Is Casting Agatha as the Villain

Well I really have no business writing theories at this point since I’ve been wrong multiple times but like maybe I really got something this time, you know? Isn’t that the point? Can’t I be right one time?? My Capricorn stellium is raging at having all these theories disproved. And I love it at the same time. 😅

Whatever. Potential spoilers under the cut.

So I’m fully on the “Billy magicked the Road” theory, he is Wanda’s son after all and tbh there’s just too much evidence to ignore it at this point. I won’t go into all of it, House of R pod does a great breakdown in their episode 6 review, check that out if you’re interested. The basic points are: Billy created the Road probably subconsciously, Agatha knows it, she’s trying to figure out how he did it and what his goal is, and also get her power back and not die from the Seven. Cool.

My theory is an offshoot of the Billy theory, and speaks to where he and Agatha are going to end this season (aka coven two). Ready? Ok.

Soooo if we take as fact that Billy conjured the Road, because he can’t control his magick and more broadly because he has some shit to work through (again, same as Wanda) then how do we explain Agatha’s trial within that framework.

Why was the trial to “punish Agatha?” If Billy, subconsciously or not, is in control of everything that happens on the Road, why do that?

Well, subconsciously, he’s angry at Agatha. Whether he’s actually angry at her specifically or just angry about what happened with the hex, it doesn’t really matter. He has a lot of suppressed anger that needs somewhere to go. And who’s the closest available probably evil witch? Ya girl, Agatha Harkness.

Someone he saw as his friend, possibly, in the hex. Someone who fought his mom and tried to take her power. And someone who ultimately, by disrupting the status quo, led to his literal world being destroyed. By that logic, I’d want to punish her too.

Billy, in his (probably subconscious) magic-fueled rage, grief, and sadness over what happened to him, his family, and his life, took all of that and blamed it on Agatha. In his fantasy of his own hero’s journey on the Road to find his brother, to get his family back, he has (spell)casted Agatha as the villain.

So when Agatha “can’t control” her power in episode 5, siphoning Alice, it’s not because she has issues with her own control of her powers. It’s because Billy was making her do it (again, probably subconsciously). She essentially blacked out at that moment, and turned into the evil witch Agatha Harkness. And when she comes to, she seemingly has no idea what she’s done.

So when she says she couldn’t control it, she’s not lying. But it’s not because she’s never been able to control her powers. She’s probably had control of them for centuries. It’s because in that moment, Billy was writing the narrative, not her. And then he confirms it to her face — you’re lying, you want power, that’s all you’ve ever wanted. Essentially saying, you’re the villain here not me not my mom.

And then it clicks for her, what he’s doing, subconsciously or not. And she turns on the evil villain persona herself to take back the narrative from him. And we get, you’re so much like your mother. Creating the Road, creating this whole story to serve yourself and the narrative you want to believe. Making me the bad guy. Undertones of fuck you.

Okay great, so where does this leave us now and how does this play into the show as a whole? I think the question the show is asking, as it relates to Agatha’s character, is who really is Agatha Harkness? Is she the villain? Is she the hero? Is she both, or neither? Is she her reputation, as Lilia reads in ep 2, or is she more than that? Can she be more than that? Can she be good?

Now here’s where it gets real juicy y’all, because as much as Billy has made Agatha the villain in his hero's journey, he's also made her the Guide.

He goes to her to lead him down the Road. He's constantly asking her questions and trying to learn from her. On some level, maybe a more conscious level, he does idolize her. He wants to see her as a witch to look up to. He even wants her love. Just look at his crestfallen face when she says she didn't put the sigil on him in ep 4.

She's the Yoda to his Luke, the Dumbledore to his Harry, the Moiraine to his Rand. And once again, subconsciously he knows it. And he wants it.

He says in ep 6, I don't know if I ever needed you (a mouthy teen if I ever heard one), but then his power immediately fizzles out. She calls him out on it, all that power and no access without a temper tantrum. He needs her. He needs to learn. Again, in this version, she has control over her powers normally, just not in her trial. So she can provide that knowledge.

He went to her to lead him down the Road. And she's been subtly teaching him this whole time. (Once vengeance is unleashed, you can't reel it back in. It's about selflessness, Teen.)

Now for her part, I don't know if she realizes she's mentoring him. But she definitely cares about him, as we saw at the end of ep 4. Again, partly a reaction fueled by Nicky, but I think she's been at least 80% sure it was Billy this whole time. So she genuinely cares for him too.

If I had to bet, I'd say Agatha very much knows the different parts she's playing, the villain evil witch, the guide, and somewhere under even that, the real Agatha.

She's just playing along, some times more willingly than others, because she needs to see where this goes. And she doesn't necessarily want to break his baby brain in the process.

It's almost the more subtle version of her leading Wanda through her memories in WandaVision. She's guiding him along the Road, partly to see what he can do and get her powers back if possible, but also for his own good.

So prediction time, where does this leave us in the finale.

I won't speak to the remaining trials, but I'm thinking there has to be a big showdown between Agatha, Billy, and Rio.

If we're going for Agatha becoming her most true self, and Billy seeing her for who she actually is, my money is on a reversal of the Agatha stealing Alice's power scene.

Rio's going go to after Billy, and Agatha, to save him, is going to start siphoning his power. It's going to look like she's killing him, being the evil witch of her reputation. But then she's going to stop (because she's been capable of control this whole time), taking just enough power to get her purple back. He has more than enough to spare.

Also fun fact, Wanda's power (red) -> Billy's power (blue) -> Agatha's power (purple). Do I want this to happen just because the colors make sense... maybe.

Ultimately, Agatha and Billy become a team, a coven two, a master and apprentice. They both see each other for who they are, imperfect, powerful, but capable of good. Rio is fended off/bargained with somehow. Maybe Agatha offers up her own soul in his place but Rio can't do it. Idk that's all wild speculation.

Point being, this is all about self-discovery, self-actualization, and deconstructing false narratives you have around others, and in Billy's case, around his own life. Dealing with your trauma to become a more whole version of yourself.

And as with WandaVision, dealing with grief and loss, but in this case, also finding a companion, a familiar, a family you never expected beside you All Along. 👀

What do you think? Can you believe I wrote this the day before ep 7 drops?? 😂

[retnym]

WORLD TOUR- .03

"Get a room!"

(just a little heads up you might be upset with this chapter but like I said this is a slow burn! There's gonna be some obstacles.)

The first official day of the tour, meaning it had been two weeks since we announced our news in the interview. It’s also been two weeks since I punched Tom in the jaw. We really haven’t talked to each other since then, with no flash outbursts of arguments or really acknowledging each other unless it was a quick dirty look or snarky comments under our breaths. 

It had been getting to the others. They were used to us messing with each other but now it’s just pure anger. Pure hatred. We couldn’t stand each other before, but now we couldn’t fathom one another. 

Touring is going to be… something.

Speaking of which our first day is in Cologne Germany. Since it’s the first night we’re going all out. Of course, we’re going to go all out for the other nights but this one is special. This is what shoots off our tour together. As a family. Even if this family is a little screwed we’d have each other’s backs at the end of the day.

I’d hope Tom isn’t too childish to screw anything up for us. 

Right now, I had just finished dressing into a red tank top and black baggy ripped jeans that underneath have fishnets to show underneath. Our makeup artist just finished everyone else's makeup so now it was on to me. She has to make sure we don’t look washed out on stage then we can add whatever we like.

Which is exactly what we’re doing, Bill is doing his little details for me. “Alright, Bill you can come in.” She sighs, looking back at her work before leaving for the singer to barge in and mess it up. He had just finished doing his hair and makeup himself when he was waiting for me to finish up myself.

As he did my makeup he looked extremely focused, wouldn’t let me talk, and wouldn’t talk himself and if I did talk he’d shush me along with smacking my hand pretty hard. 

“[Name]?” A voice calls, my head snapping in their direction. Ultimately destroying Bill’s work, once again earning another slap on the hand like I was a toddler. “[Name]!” He cries, going to my vanity and grabbing a makeup rag. I place m hands up in defense, immediately apologizing.

It ended up being Gustav who called for me so he apologized as well. “What’s up?” I ask the blond, turning my head back for Bill to clean up and then redo what I had messed up.

Gustav ends up standing behind Bill, watching the face beating I was currently getting from an eyeshadow brush. “I want to tell you now but I’m scared you’re going to mess up his look again.” He laughs, and Bill just flips him off. Continuing to not speak like he was doing beforehand. 

“What’s wrong with him?” He jokes, I just press my lips together basically saying I don’t want to say or else I’m going to get hit again. My hand is probably going to bruise from the aggressive hits. 

As we waited for him to finish up Gustav was humming tunes, pretending to drum behind Bill. Unfortunately making me laugh and of course, getting hit! 

“Okay, I’m done. What do you want to tell her?” He puts a hand on his hip, standing up. Now the attention goes to the drummer who took a deep breath.

“Someone’s here for you.” 

“Who?” I motion for him to carry on, getting up from my seat myself.

“Jace Comdonian.” Bill and I gasp, grabbing onto each other in shock. “No fucking way.”

“Where!?” I scream, Bill laughs as Gustav points down the hall, both of us booking it. Going to make a left but Gustav shouts; “Wrong way!” We push over each other, going in the correct direction now. We see the familiar curly-headed boy from behind who was talking to a security guard. “Jace!!” We shout, he slowly turns our way, his face lighting up he waves at us. 

I couldn’t believe it!

I run straight into his arms and he lifts me up, he kisses my cheek before letting me down. “I can’t believe you’re here!” I hold onto his face, forgetting about everyone around us.

Jace was my first official boyfriend when I was 15. It’s been two years since we ended our relationship. Due to me having to leave for the United States a lot for my acting roles, we called it quits. He couldn’t handle the long distance and it was just better off being really good friends. Now I won’t say my feelings have completely gone away (because they haven’t) but we talk every now and then. The last time we talked was five months ago and he was dating a girl. 

Happy for him (No I wasn’t).

“Well, Johanna was supposed to be here too.” He awkwardly says, scratching the back of his head. Right. Johanna was supposed to come to take photos for tonight but she got really sick last minute. Food poisoning I think. 

“She will be missed.” I kiss my fingers, lifting them into the air dramatically. Bill shoves me out of the way and bro hugs Jace. They were pretty close too while we dated. Jace got along with pretty much everyone.

Except for Tom but that didn’t really matter to me. 

“How have you been?” Bill asks him, now stealing him from me so I stand back with Gustav who just caught up. “Doesn’t Tom hate him?” 

“Yeah, who cares though.” I roll my eyes, leaning onto him as he threw an arm over my shoulder, snickering at what I said. I don’t know how they are friends with us. Our nonstop arguing or comments about each other. I wonder if they’ve ever thought about dropping one of us. Probably me if anything since Tom is Bill’s twin and everything. I wouldn’t blame them either if we’re being honest. 

I’m getting side track though. Jace, Jace is wonderful. He was always supportive of me in our relationship. He always wanted me to sing or play the guitar for him. Or show him my auditions for the movies or shows I was getting into. He would fly in sometimes and watch on set. 

I’d do the same for him but he doesn’t want the spotlight of fame. He wants to be a teacher, something I respect even though I never really went to school growing up. He wants to teach elementary kids, mainly he wants to get into art. 

Something I personally fell in love with after him telling me. He is perfect in my eyes. His tan skin, curly brown locks, hazel eyes, and just the perfect dimples that indented every time he smiled. 

“[Name]” It’s almost time!” Georg calls, I push away from Gustav. “Already?” I widen my eyes, I feel like we just did mic checks only thirty minutes ago but looking at the time it’s been two hours. I go up to Jace and kiss his cheek. “We’ll talk after the show?” 

“Of course.” He smiles, nodding for me to go on.

“Make sure he gets to the front alright, please.” I plead with one of the security guards who just nods. I take a deep breath and hurry down the hall with the three boys. I’m guessing Tom is already where he needs to be. 

A lady hands me a mic, and I go on before the others. Just to start the show and then the next song they come in. 

“Hello, Cologne Germany!” I scream (obviously this is in German but I am not embarrassing myself by translating off Google.)

The crowd goes wild as I enter the stage, I wave to everyone. The song was already starting. During it, I’d check to the side to see the guys getting ready, they all cheer me on as I performed. 

The feeling was euphoric as I felt the vibration of my own voice not only in my throat but around the room. The electricity of attention these people had on me made me want to do it all night. 

As the song ended the lights dimmed to only me. “I wanted to thank everyone who came out tonight.” I smiled as everyone cheered once again. 

“Tonight will be a tremendous show, not only from me but my boys in Tokio Hotel.” Taking a deep breath, I continue on. “This will be the first step into many different countries and areas all over. Your love has brought me to go on, to live this wonderful life I live so I give you just a fraction of my appreciation. The rest will be later on.” As they cheered, the boys get into their places, since the lights weren’t on over there no one saw them. 

Then all of a sudden instruments begin and the lights flash on.

The night was filled with laughter, slight mess-ups, and just so much fun. Tom and I competed with our guitars, obviously wasn’t meant to show but everyone noticed. Bill and I dramatically danced with each other as we sang. I went over to Gustav’s platform during the night at one point and showed off my little drum skills. Georg and I threw water at people together as well. 

I want my shows to not only show off my voice but show who we are as people. Make us seem more human than just celebrities. 

Of course, it had to come to an end. It even made me a little emotional to have to get off stage. It was our first night of a huge adventure, something I feel like I’ve repeated over and over but it’s true. This isn’t going to be some little thing that ends in months. It won’t end for a year. A year stuck with these boys who I grew up with as children. Been on magazines with. Endless sleepovers. Everything.

“You did amazing!” I brought Georg and Gustav into a hug, all of us wet from the rain part of Monsoon that Bill made us do. “You’re one to talk, you had the crowd going crazy.” Georg hugs me back. I just wave him off, pretending to blush. Tom was behind us with Bill, they were silently talking about something so I turned around, letting go of the two. “Nice job, Tom.” I politely smile, he raises a brow at first but quietly thanks me. “You too.”

“You guys did fucking awesome!” 

All of us turn to see Jace and I smile, heading over to him and hugging him. Purposely getting him wet. He tries pushing me away but just gives up in the end. “You liked it?” I asked after everyone thanked him. Tom had stopped in front of us, he was giving his guitar to a stage manager. 

“Like it? I loved it.” He squeezes me into the hug more. 

“Move it, you’re in the middle of the hall.” Tom shoves through us, I went to say something back but Jace stops me. “I see he hasn’t changed.”

I sigh, shaking my head. But I push myself back remembering he does have a girl. Even if we’re good friends I need to know my place with this.

“What?” He tilts his head.

“Your girlfriend.” I laughed mainly to myself.

“Girlfriend?” He almost looks offended, not even remembering his own girlfriend? “Oh! Last time we- right. We broke up like a week after that phone call.” He chuckles, pulling me back to him. We started walking to my dressing room this time though.

“Oh! I mean oh… Sorry to hear that.” 

He shakes his head, laughing at me. “No you’re not.” 

“You caught me.” I bite my lip, picking at the dead skin. He lifts my chin up by a finger.

“I want to try again.” He whispers, I harshly blink at him a few times. He caught me offguard okay? 

Because.. What? 

I step back from him, and my nose was slightly scrunched. “Ouch. not the reaction I expected.” He says, I put my hands up trying to go back. “No, no, you just um you kind of said that out of nowhere. I just got off stage there’s just uh a lot going on in my head.” I look around, the tension in the air was building up and I was just making it more awkward.

“Right, I’m sorry.” He says, scoffing at himself. “Hey, it’s okay. Give me some time to think.” I smile, taking his face in my hands to have him look at me. His eyes go straight to my lips and then back to my eyes.

“Can I kiss you, atleast?” 

I don’t even reply I just go on my tip toes and place a kiss on his lips. Not even giving me a chance to get used to it he pulls me closer by my hips.

What we didn’t see were the four boys staring at the scene in shock.

“Get a room!” Georg shouts, Bill and Gustav, roar into laughter as Tom just looked disgusted. I flipped them off, pulling back from Jace.

“I hate you guys.” I lay my head on his chest and they just make kissy noises and walk by. 

So, I just want to add another thing. This will not be a love triangle. Like I said there's going to be some obstacles before you and Tom even get to mentioning your feelings. Maybe... I'm still figuring some things out. Like if I want this to have a sad or happy ending lol. Also, I don't know if I should add smut obviously later on so if you guys want to see anything let me know. It might not happen but I always want some feedback this story is for you guys but it's everything is all in my hands. ;) Sorry for not posting sooner I had work and I was just too tired to post this. I did make it on Wattpad so if you don't want to deal with how it comes out on Tumblr you can go on there. :)

Sorry this is a lot but just wanted to feed some things into here before I go. ALSO, be prepared there might be multiple chapters that will come out by and on Sunday. I'm hoping to have chapter four tomorrow night. Chapter Five on Friday, Chapter Six and maybe seven on Saturday, and then Eight, Nine, and maybe Ten on Sunday. But this is up in the air it might change if I'm too tired from work lol.

Until next time:3

[deceptive-daydreams]

Whatever She Wants; I Will Do Anything - E.M.

Eddie x fem reader

2.9K Words

Inspired by the song Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers. Or where you’re very good at keeping your guard up and not letting others in only to crumble under the pressure. And Eddie is there to help you put the pieces back together.

Warnings - angsty, depictions of mental illness, dark thoughts

A/N - This shit is emotional and this song has been stuck in my head for days so I had to do something with it. Any feedback is appreciated 🥹

Masterlist

— I would do anything you want me to

I would do anything for you

I would do anything, I would do anything

Whatever you want me to do, I will do

—

If you could pick the scenery to describe your own brain, it wouldn’t be a field of daisies, fresh and heavenly, or rainbows after a light summer rain, sticky but romanticized.  It wouldn’t be angelic beach views with sunsets marbling the sky or even the starry night with the moon soaking the earth in its celestial light.   No, these things were magnificent, pleasing to look at, easy to take in.  Very unlike your brain.  

Your idea would be more of a tsunami ripping everything apart, having no mercy on anything in its wake—destroying everything it touches.  Emotions receding into the sea quietly before ultimately coming back in a massive wave and disrupting the quaint living of those around.  Murky skies and shattered hope.  People running, and running far just to avoid the disaster—the impending doom that was you.  That is exactly how you’d describe your brain. 

Sometimes if you were lucky there were a select few weeks in between the storms of your mind where you’d feel a sliver of relief, a drought in the ever flowing thoughts that dismantled your life.  Times where there would be a glimmer of ambition and an inkling of motivation.  It never lasted long, fleeing as soon as you were starting to get better.  A colossal wave consuming you once again, and people would go running as they always did—the commotion of the storm too turbulent for them to brave.  

And the agonizing thoughts would begin to stew at the very core of your brain.  Simmering until they boiled over at random.  

Too hard to love.

Useless.

Worthless.

Barely a person, a walking corpse devoid of emotion due to the burnout.

Not worthy of love.

Not worthy of anything.

I should have never even made it this far, sixteen years was my limit.

I don’t want to do this anymore, please don’t make me do this anymore.

It was all so daunting, so intimidating and heavy.  It truly felt like you did not belong on this earth and there was absolutely no way to combat it other than merely surviving.  Days passed and you were trapped in the endless cycle that was existing without purpose.  

Your boyfriend, Eddie, sweet Eddie had a life to live and you couldn’t bear to burden him with the sorrows of your aching soul.  Eventually he’d realize what a nuisance you were, how crippling your state of mind could be.  He didn’t deserve to be detained by the relationship you so thought was out of pity.  Ever so generous, kind, enamoring, handsome, loving, gentle, loud, assertive—everything Eddie was made of, was something you believed you never once deserved.  You dreaded the day he would glance at you and come to his senses.  She is too broken for me, I can’t love her.

The convincing mask you were able to automatically put on was all too familiar.  Being able to physically front that you were happy when the reality of it all was that demons swam through your bloodstream and never left, only lying dormant every once in a blue moon only to come back at full force.  It felt like poison, the way you would be okay one moment and suddenly in seconds you were grasping onto your sanity, clinging onto any bits of reality—of your mortal self only to be swallowed up by harsh accusations toward yourself that would have you sinking back into your bed for as long as it required.  And that’s how you got so good with the mask, forcing yourself to conform to the world around you when you absolutely couldn’t rot in bed, other obligations taking priority despite the poison coursing through your body.  A smile on your face, a compliment here, a joke there, sprinkled with some stupid story from the other day that always seemed to appease your audience.  It was all fake and no one could sniff it out.

Until Eddie came along and he was able to detect even the slightest shift in your demeanor.  Though you could throw the mask on, it didn’t always work with him and he would encourage you to take it off.  You never did.  Insisting I’m fine, just a little tired.  Lying through your teeth.  You couldn’t help it, you’d never let your guard down with anyone ever.  How were you supposed to when it didn’t even feel like an option?  A people pleaser to your core, you’d take your feelings with you to the grave.  

The first time Eddie stumbled upon you crying, he was at a loss, not knowing how to approach the situation.  Do I hug her?  No, what if she doesn’t want me to?  Do I hold her hand?  Does she want me to leave?  Did I do something?  What if I made her cry?  Does she want to break up?  Every thought flew at him at lightning speed, practically slapping him in the face.  Before any decision could be made, you sucked back the tears and used your sleeves to aggressively clear your under eyes.  I’m fine, I just watched an emotional movie.  Lies.  Not wanting to push you further, he nodded and held you close.  But he knew.  You were suffering, drowning in your own fucked up world and he had no idea how to pull you out.  When his own mind started suffocating him he could at least voice that he wasn’t having the best day, also being the type to never burden others with his invading thoughts.  He’d leave it at that and sulk in his room but you would always sit with him, if he allowed.  If not, that was okay too and he was eternally grateful.  

The more he studied your behavior when you just felt off, the more he gathered the way you would often go blank during a conversation, eyes becoming void of a human and turning into a shell of yourself as you picked yourself apart internally.  Anxiety looming in your eyes and hands the slightest bit shaky, he would touch his fingertips to yours in the smallest touch hoping to lure you back, praying that he didn’t overstep because god he was so scared.  And when you did return, you still weren’t fully there although you claimed you were just tired.  Again.  He just wanted you to be happy.  And you wanted to be happy.  

It took almost a year into the relationship for you to even be able to ask him to come over when you wanted to just be with him.  Before that it just felt like you were pestering him for attention even though that was far from the truth.  You could call him just to complain about how your lunch tasted and he would savor every moment.  Even still, you had your doubts about calling him or texting him, the nasty demons lurking within you telling you he didn’t care.  Eddie picked up on your patterns from the very beginning and learned that the way you worded things really indicated your mood, if you were genuinely doing well or if things were bad again.  A simple phrase popping up on his phone and he would bolt to you if he had the slightest inclination that you were in a pool of your own self deprecating thoughts.  

Are you home?  Really meant, I need you, I need you and I’m too afraid to outright say it.

Are you busy?  Either meant that you wanted to go on a gas station run with him or that you wanted to vent about your family.  

Want to come over?  Generally translated to I’m in a good space right now and would love to spend time with you.

I love you.  Told him I’m thinking about you.

Love you.  Was an indicator that you were on edge, it could be because of him depending on the nature of the situation or it could just be a bad day. 

Food?  Was the phrase used to tell him I’m hangry and we better be getting Mexican food otherwise you better suggest something that sounds yummier.

I’m fine.  Was as clear as day.  I’m the opposite of fine.

So when it’s ten o’ clock at night and the cicadas are chirping outside his trailer, his fingers dancing along the neck of his guitar to a new riff he recently learned and he sees his phone light up with your name, he eagerly reaches over to pick it up and read.  His eyes scan over three key words.

Are you home?

Immediately he’s setting his guitar on top of his mattress, calling you as he scrambles around his room searching for his car keys, finally locating them underneath his copy of Lord of the Rings he had been rereading earlier, tossing the book aside.  The dial tone rings through his ears a few times, heart beating fast.  On the other end, a meek little hey is heard along with a sniffle that you swore you would hide.  

“Baby, what’s wrong?”  His voice is laced with concern while he makes his way out to the living room to collect his leather jacket.  

“I-I-nothing.  I just—wanted to hear your voice.”  Part of it is a lie.  Everything is wrong and your world is crumbling as you stare out the window lifelessly.  Panic is taking over while you endure thoughts about your past, present, and future.  Why did I say that one thing that one time?  I’m such a bad person.  I should have never been born, that way I could save everyone the embarrassment.  You’re instigating yourself and there’s no sign of stopping.  Eddie would be happier without you, he’s too good for you, good things don’t happen to you without a price.  Bullet after bullet hits your soul.  

“I’m coming over.”  He tells you without giving you the option to say no, the line going silent as he hangs up.  This only coaxes more humiliating things out from the depths of your brain.  See what you did?  You ruined his night, now he’s on his way over and he’s probably so mad.  He has so many better things to be doing than sitting with a cry baby.  

The sobs rack your body, chest heaving and vision completely blurred with hot tears traveling down your face.  You’re shaking, the words assaulting you over and over.  Even if you wanted to stop crying you couldn’t, the dam was flooded.  It was an oversight on your part, you didn’t need to text Eddie but you did it out of impulse.  Everything suddenly becomes so overstimulating, so gross and uncomfortable.  The way your clothes hug your body makes you wince, rubbing your arms to somewhat soothe yourself but it only does so much.  The clutter on your bedside table aggravates you all of the sudden but there’s not any energy to straighten it up, leaving you sitting on the bed in full on breakdown mode.  You’re now way too aware of your own body, yearning to immediately cease existing.  A blanket once thrown over your legs is now tossed across the room, the material now disgusting you.  Everything becomes unbearable.

So unbearable that you don’t even hear Eddie using his key in your front door, the hinges squeaking as he enters, or the click of the lock as he locks it again before rushing upstairs, his boots stomping on every other step.  You don’t hear the bedroom door creak open as he carefully approaches, toeing off his boots near the door and then speaking to you.  

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?”  His tone is gentle enough to soothe a baby.  Shrugging his jacket off and tossing it on a nearby chair, he slowly strides closer to the bed but still keeps his distance.  

All you can do is cover your face in your pathetic palms, attempting to hide away the misery you have become.  A wet and whimpered I don’t know is made out from you muffling the words into your hands.  His heart shatters.  All he wants to do is hold you but only if you’ll allow him to.  The last thing he wants to do is make it worse.  The last time he saw you cry was also the first time and you’d sucked it up and brushed it off like it never happened.  This was drastically different, you were a puddle of tears and snot, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to hold back any longer.

“Baby.  Look at me.  Just for a minute, okay?”  He’s trying to convince you but you shake your head, palms still gathering tears.  “Please?  Please?”  He begs, voice hoarse as he tries to map out a gameplan in his head.  It still falls upon deaf ears.  “I need you to look at me.  If I’m going to help you, you need to look at me.”  He leans over the bed attempting to catch your eyes.  “I need you.”  He speaks desperately, his own eyes becoming wet.  For some reason, the phrase makes you stop for a second, makes you freeze.  If he needed you, then you were going to give him anything he wanted, anything he needed.  It was some type of reverse psychology that he hadn’t even realized he performed.  You were falling apart but the moment he begged for help you stopped everything to be by his side.

Shock written in his features, he looks at you while you look at him, big doe eyes full of anxiety and worry.  The atmosphere was stagnant at that moment.  Hiccups erupted out of you but your full undivided attention was on him.  He pondered his next moves carefully, not wanting to scare you off or chase you back into your corner.  His next words were spoken with the utmost care.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”  His voice was shaky and his eyes blinked rapidly.  “I—I’ve never done this before.  Please tell me what you need.”  His voice wobbled on the last few words as you tried to process everything.  “Whatever you want me to do, I will do.”  The way his tone wavered broke you, choking out a sob before stopping yourself.  You did this to him.  So you force yourself to provide an answer, it’s the least you could do.  

Voice cracking, you reply “Hold me.”  The dam continues flooding, sending a river down your cheeks.  He’s quick to crawl across the bed and gather you in his arms like the most fragile thing he’s ever held.  Arms wrap around your middle to pull you in between his legs, pulling your back flush against his chest as you then maneuver your body to curl into him like he’s your bunker, face buried in his chest and trembling hands fisting his shirt.  

“I’m right here, I’ve got you.  I’m here.”  Whispered reassurances against the top of your head as you soak his shirt in a mixture of tears and snot.  He lets you cry for as long as you need, as long as you want.  

“I’m always here for you.  Okay?  I would do anything for you.”  He promises, stroking your back soothingly, placing a kiss to your temple.  Everything about you is so ugly in the moment and yet, he’s so patient and warm.  So attentive and loving.  His gestures begin to chip at the walls you built around yourself so long ago.  It would take time but he’s made the first cracks in those sturdy walls and he would spend forever helping you tear them down.  

The sobs and hiccups begin to settle down, not completely but enough that you have some composure.  Your wide eyes stare into his kind ones.  You’re forced to recognize the unconditional love swimming in his eyes.  The genuine concern for your well being and his necessity for your comfort and happiness.  

“I love you.”  An offer through your tears of that same love on a silver platter that he would gladly indulge in.  Hand brushing against the bottom of your chin, tilting it ever so slightly while the other rests on the small of your back, he delivers a nudge of his nose against yours, a piece of his heart.  

“I love you.  I will always love you.”  His words have a greater meaning, an oath that even through the bad times, the times where you were isolated and hated yourself, kicking yourself to the curb,  he would be right there to help you back up.  A brush of his thumb against a rogue tear on your cheek has you hanging onto his every action.  The way he continues to use his thumbs to clean up any remnants  of sadness that had been acquired over the last hour or so.  How his lips curl up in fondness when you brush your fingertips along his stubbly cheek.  A whispered thank you against his skin.  When he lays back and pulls you onto his chest, his breathing lulling you into a post cry sleep that you very well needed, one hand running up and down your back and the other tracing shapes into your arm—calloused fingers providing every bit of comfort needed.  How his lips press a kiss to your forehead.  The scary thoughts were at bay for now and Eddie would without a doubt help you to battle them the next time they invaded your mind, whether it be tomorrow or next week.  His words have you melting, insides gooey and sticky when he thinks you’re fast asleep but you’re really still clinging onto these last waking moments as you mold into each other.   

“You’re everything I could ever ask for.  I would do anything for you.”

~end~

Masterlist

[guplia]

My sixteenth fic for @badthingshappenbingo!

Fandom: Ninjago

Trope: Kick Them While They Are Down

Also available on AO3!

Raging Winds

Lloyd lay on the dirty floor of Ronin’s store, panting heavily.

He didn’t regret what he did earlier that same day; if Morro had got hold of the Sword of Sanctuary Ninjago would have been toast. And it would have been entirely his fault. How could he have been so stupid that he let himself get possessed? He’d dealt with the Overlord before. Sure, it was with the help of the other ninja, but he was ultimately the one who destroyed the form of pure evil. Or maybe it was pathetic, because he came back a little over a year later and if Zane wasn’t a nindroid the ninja would have been mourning his loss forever. 

You’re useless, Lloyd told himself. Can’t stop a stupid ghost that could have easily been defeated by water.

But right now he was experiencing the consequences of helping Kai. So far, all Morro had done to him was un-possess (is that a new word?) him, and throw his body on the floor. The ghost’s friends were watching, laughing and mocking the Green Ninja struggling to breathe on the floor.

Stop panicking, Lloyd, you stupid little boy.

“I’ve been wanting to see how… solid I can get for a while,” Morro said, more to the other ghosts than Lloyd. “But I couldn’t test it with actual opponents like the other ninja. Couldn’t risk myself ‘dying’ again.” He smirked as he slowly made his way to the boy curled up on the ground.

Lloyd was trying to keep his panic in check unsuccessfully. For the last week he had been starved, forced to drink alcohol, and given half a cup of water at best everyday. He knew he had lost a concerning amount of weight at this point, though it was the least important matter to him right now. 

He shut his eyes and tried to think of better times, when Morro kicked him in the stomach. He gasped loudly and clutched it, before rolling on it to avoid it getting hit again.

Morro was satisfied by Lloyd’s reaction, just like the other ghosts, who were cheering. And he wanted more. “So I can make myself solid enough to land a hit, huh? Let’s see what the extent can be.”

He stepped on Lloyd’s back and smiled when he heard the groan coming from him. He slowly increased the pressure until he decided that doing any more would kill him.

“I’d finish you right now, but unfortunately I might still need you to complete my mission. But at least now I know what I’ll do in celebration of the Preeminent’s return.”

It was then that Lloyd had had enough. He was sick of being treated like a puppet by Morro and being helpless about it. He was going to fight back.

He used most of whatever energy he had left to sit up, and held his fist out. Morro gasped at the sudden action and almost stumbled backwards. Lloyd only understood what was happening when he tried to land a punch, only for his entire arm to sag to the ground.

Oh. He was mocking him.

And his theory was proven correctly when Morro and all the ghosts burst into loud laughter. The master of wind grabbed Lloyd’s neck and choked him.

“Who do you think you are, huh?” The ghost asked rhetorically, watching the blind gasp for air in vain. “I’ve looked through all your memories. You didn’t deserve to be the Green Ninja. It was all nepotism from your grandfather.”

Asphyxiating Lloyd gave Morro a new idea, which he displayed with a grin. He let go of the weak boy, letting him fall to the floor. 

“I’m the master of wind. That means I can control where all the air in the room is going. Here’s something I never tried before.”

Lloyd suddenly noticed that he couldn’t breathe. It was like there was nothing to breathe at all. 

Oh. He took the air away from him.

Lloyd tried to move somewhere else to get the vital oxygen, but he was far too weak. He thrashed in his spot, and tried to scream. But no sound came out. He was in a vacuum. 

Morro circled around his victim, watching him suffer. “Maybe you should have thought before giving the sword to your friend. I’m sure you want to stay alive to see him again.”

Lloyd tried fighting, tried breathing, but this was yet another battle he had lost. Within seconds, his eyes shut and he went limp.

Morro let go of the air, letting it move freely around the room again. Staring at Lloyd’s pale, bruised face still gave him bursts of anger, though. He used to be Wu’s favourite student– and his favourite child. Now this pathetic piece of shit had stolen not only that position, but his dream role– the Green Ninja.

It made him see red– and even after everything he’d done to the kid today he’d decided he hadn’t suffered enough. So, he pounced on the slack body and started punching about every inch of his body, until his skin turned purple. His friends had stopped laughing too, now merely spectating there silently in shock. 

But Morro wasn’t done. He got up and dragged Lloyd’s body with him by the hair, and threw him across the floor, like he was an angry toddler playing with his rag doll. The kid’s body hit a shelf and some random items nobody cared about fell on him. 

Morro walked over to Lloyd again and pressed a couple fingers against his neck. There was still a pulse.

He kicked his chest, probably hard enough to break a rib by then, and just slumped over the shelf in exhaustion. That’s how long it took him to realise that his breathing was erratic too, except his was in rage.

[voltronisanobsession]

Compromised - Platonic Yandere! Voltron x Reader

This was a lot longer than what I intended it to be but whatever🔥

The rapid sound of footsteps echoed through the hallways, a sense of urgency present with each step taken. As the door came into view, the one door that held the most important thing in the universe, a sigh of relief was heard in the now quiet hall. He tried listening through the door for any signs of life, in which he received none, causing him to abruptly open the door.

There you laid on a bed, eyes tracing the ceiling blankly, ignoring the intruding figure at the entrance of your room. “Why didn’t you respond to the communicator Y/N?”

Turning your head, you stared at Shiro for a few seconds before ultimately deciding to stand up. “Sorry Shiro, I was just having so much fun. In this empty room. Doing absolutely nothing. Dying from absolute excitement.” The sarcasm seeped out like venom with each word, causing the man to wince.

Sighing, he responded, “I know staying in here isn’t an exactly ideal situation, but it’s the best way in keeping you safe.” Hopefully you would understand this time.

“Keeping me safe from what? The Galra? Space? You guys aren’t protecting me from anything, you’re only scared of what could happen to me.”

“Y/N.” Shiro just couldn’t understand how you didn’t see all the dangers that lay beyond the castle walls. How they’ve faced death on so many occasions just so they could continue saving the universe.

“No! It isn’t fair that I’m stuck locked in this stupid room with you saying you’re protecting me when you guys willingly throw yourselves in the face of danger! I can defend myself, I’m a paladin of Voltron too!”

“No you cannot Y/N. Remember how Keith had to save you from that Galra soldier who tried slicing you in half? Or how you lost your bayard because you were too busy trying to escape one of the sentrys’ shooting at you? Everything we do is for you, whether you choose to see that is on you.”

In frustration, you grabbed the nearest item (aka a pillow) and threw it against the wall, watching the feathers explode from its case. This wasn’t fair.

“I got my bayard in the end though! And if I lose my bayard again I can always try to summon it back like you did! I’m more than just some item to be kept away forever. I am a part of this team as much as anyone else!”

Dragging his metal hand across his face, Shiro had to take a deep breath before walking fully into the room, sitting on your bed after locking the door behind him. He patted the spot next to him, urging you to sit with him, which you reluctantly did.

“I was only able to get the black lions’ bayard by chance Y/N. In a real situation, if your bayard was taken from you, the chances of you successfully summoning your bayard is extremely low.” This caused you to deflate a bit.

“We know how bad you want to join us during missions, but putting you out in the field is too much of a risk we don’t want to take. Y/n, please, you have to see how important you are to all of us. The thought of you getting hurt physically pains me.”

This caused you to hang your head low, making Shiro think he finally knocked some sense into you. “But you guys get hurt too. Why am I the only exception? If you just give me the opportunity to show you all I can be helpful then I wouldn’t constantly fight against you.”

“You don’t even have a lion Y/N. You know yours was destroyed during the creation of the lions, so even if we were to allow you on missions you wouldn’t be able to do much. It’s better to have you away from battle.

Finally getting fed up, you sprang from the bed onto your feet which surprised Shiro. You didn’t care if they didn’t allow you into battle. You didn’t care if you had to stay with Coran watching and aiding from the sidelines, you just wanted to be out of this room.

Suddenly Allura’s voice rang throughout the castle and in your room from the speakers. “Shiro we need you in the bridge immediately.”

You watched with intense eyes as the man got up from your bed, heading towards the door of the room. “Shiro if you leave without me right now, I promise you I will do everything in my power to leave by myself.”

Shiro hesitated for a moment, hearing how bitter the words were. Looking back, all he could see was the anger in your eyes, as if you already knew what he was going to say.

“I’m sorry Y/N, we’ll continue talking about this when I come back.” This caused you to flop on your bed staring straight up at the ceiling once again, just like how he had originally found you.

Opening the door, he looked back once more, departing with his final words, “Please make sure you respond to the communicator on time.”

Receiving no reply, Shiro walked out, locked the door, and began heading to the control room, completely unaware of your quiet plans.

Sitting up, you listened as Shiro’s footsteps became quieter the further he walked away from your room until there was nothing but silence. Closing your eyes, you began focusing on the one thing you’ve been training yourself for after all this time. Shiro was able to summon the black lions bayard from a vast distance, who’s to say you couldn’t do it either.

Despite Shiro’s past words echoing in your mind, you brushed it off, almost feeling like this will finally be the attempt that will succeed. Having your bayard would mean being able to get out of the suffocating room, and a chance at freedom. You were taking a huge risk in attempting this but at this point, nothing else really mattered. Only the thought of freedom was keeping your fire burning.

Concentrating hard, you began slowing your heartbeat, taking deep breaths, and trying to connect yourself to your bayard. Searching, it took a while before you found the resembling energy of your bayard. It was faint, very faint actually, showing the distance between you and your beacon of hope.

Opening your hand slightly, you began imagining the feeling of the bayard, remembering how it weighed in your hand and remembering the energy it had given you in the short moments you had it.

It was yours, it’s energy finally connecting with your own. The feeling was uncomfortable at first, it was almost like something was being shoved into your body, making you feel a whole new energy present.

A bright light flashed causing your heartbeat to accelerate, praying that the light was really what you thought it was. Slowly opening your eyes, the heavy weight in your hand confirmed your prayers. The bayard was clutched in your hand, gleaming under the light of your room.

“YES! YESYESYESYES YEEESSS!” Jumping on the bed with joy, your eyes slightly filled with tears. You knew you could do it! Everything they’ve said about you was wrong!

“Oh my gosh I actually did it! Haha suck on that Shiro!” Your bayard transformed into your weapon, the feeling of your dagger familiar and comforting as you ran to the door. Forcing the dagger between the wall and the door, you grunted from the force you applied as you tried opening it.

Slowly but surely, it slowly began to slide open, the small opening being forced wide enough for your whole body to fit through.

You needed to get to an escape pod immediately before any of them noticed you were running around the castle freely. You’ll figure out step two once you’re out of the castle.

Sprinting through the corridors, you realized you were on the opposite side of where you needed to be. You could only hope you made it far enough before one of them took notice.

While the others spoke of their next move against the Galra, Coran was busy loading up information onto the system, when he got a small pop up of a small dot traveling quickly through the halls.

“Uh guys? I think we may have a problem.” Quickly tapping around, he pulled up a camera to your room first, eyes widening as he saw the forced opening of your door.

“What’s going on Coran?” Hunk moved next to the shocked man, his own eyes opening wide while the rest of the group gathered around quickly. Keith was the first one to dash out of the room not wanting to waste another second as you ran through the halls of the castle.

“How did they even do that?!” Lance quickly grabbed his bayard, anxiously waiting for instructions. The group watched as Coran replayed the video, seeing you struggling while trying to open the door with your dagger, the one thing their eyes focused on immediately.

“Alright team let’s move out! Coran do you have any idea where Y/N could be heading?” Hunk and Pidge went to retrieve their own bayards while Allura stared at the screen with a blank face.

“Uuummm from what I’m seeing, they’re trying to get to the opposite side of the castle!”

“Y/N is trying to get to the escape pods.” Allura was awoken from her trance like state, running towards the doors of the control room, everyone following after her.

“Here you go paladins! Y/N is a bit ahead of you all but it seems Keith is near them.” A map popped up in the group’s helmets, the red dot a stark contrast against the six blue dots that moved across a map of the castle.

“Alright listen up! Our best bet is to try and cut Y/N off from their path. We need to lead them back to the control room, there we’ll have the upper hand in a more enclosed space!” Shiro’s voice was strong and powerful as he spoke, the others grunting in agreement as they all continued running down the corridors.

“Found them!” Keith yelled out as the group followed to where his and Y/N’s dot were shown on the map.

Quickly turning the corner, Pidge was abruptly shoved into a wall as Allura saved her from the flying knife heading her way.

“Keith!”

“WHY CAN’T YOU GUYS JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” You yelled out in frustration, blocking Keith’s attacks with your much smaller blade. Kicking him back, Keith stumbled onto Lance, causing both of them to tumble onto the ground.

Running around the next corner, the rest of the team followed after you.

“Remember the plan guys! Left!” In confusion, you looked back only to see a blast coming straight for you on your right. Quickly jumping to the left, you turned the left corner in order to avoid Lance and Hunks’ nonstop firing.

Running down the hall, you were about to make a right until Shiro yelled out, “Left!”

You watched with wide and shocked eyes as Keith’s sword flew straight past your head and into the wall in front of you. This caused you to stumble a little into the wall, running towards the left once again.

“WHAT THE HELL KEITH! ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO KILL ME?!” After running down multiple hallways, it didn’t take you long to figure out they were trying to lead you somewhere as you began recognizing some of the rooms you ran by.

Were they trying to herd you into one of the rooms?! Looking back once again, you noticed how concentrated all of them looked as they followed you down each turn. Deciding to take the ultimate risk, you headed in the opposite direction Shiro yelled out. “Left!”

Taking a breath in, you ducked past Allura’s whip as she threw it rather aggressively, instead heading towards the right. You needed to get to a pod asap, you were beginning to grow tired.

You used your advantage to put as much space between you and the paladins as they stumbled confused into a wall after you didn’t turn into the direction they were leading you to.

“Uh guys! I think Y/N found out what we’re trying to do!” Hunk yelled out as he quickly pushed himself off the wall, huffing a bit as exhaustion began seeping through his bones.

“No kidding! What do we do now?!” Lance could only run so fast before he began falling behind with Hunk.

“Run!” Keith could feel his heart thumping against his chest, watching as you turned the final corner before disappearing from their sight. Pushing harder, he, Allura, and Shiro swiftly followed after you with Pidge close behind.

You finally had made it to one of the escape pods, quickly trying to open it before hearing a loud shout.

“I’m sorry Y/N!” Next thing you knew, a wire was wrapped around your leg and you were yanked off the pod. Grunting out in pain from the harsh landing, you quickly in return yanked Pidge’s cord with all your strength causing her to lose her balance.

“Y/N please! What has gotten into you?!” Allura was huffing a bit yet she was filled with enough energy to fight if needed.

“What has gotten into ME?! I absolutely refuse to be locked up again!” At this, Lance and Hunk busted through and into the room where all of you stood tensely, waiting for someone to make a move.

You stood your ground, clutching onto your dagger tightly, watching silently before noticing Keith eyeing your weapon.

“How did you get that?”

“Doesn’t matter how I got it. Let me go.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Keith began to run towards you before he felt a hand clamping over his shoulder. You stood in a more defensive position after the abrupt movement. Keith’s angry eyes made contact with Shiro’s narrowed ones.

“You can’t leave Y/N. Even if you get into the pod you won’t be able to get out of the castle.”

You wouldn’t let them see how your hands shook, you won’t let them know that you knew Shiro was right. Not after you came this far. Not when you were so close to freedom.

That’s when an idea came into your head.

Quickly, you pointed the dagger straight over your heart, now knowing you had the upper hand as you heard the gasps coming from all of them. You were only bluffing but with the state you were in, they didn’t know that.

“Y/N!” Hunk gasped in shock, hands suddenly trembling with fear. Allura gulped audibly, her hands now tightly clutching her weapon, hoping that’ll lower her nerves.

“Y/N please. Please take that away from you.” Keith’s voice strained in anxiety, eyes wide as he watched you take a few steps back. Lance lowered his gun, hoping that that might calm you down.

“There’s a better way this could end.” Shiro looked at the group, fear present in all of their eyes. Pidge was the first one to drop her bayard, almost sensing that was the only way to pacify you.

“Thanks Pidge. Now the rest of you, drop your weapons.” They all hesitated until you threateningly moved the dagger closer to your chest. Quickly, Lance dropped his weapon with Hunk following after him. After intensely staring at you, Allura threw down her bayard, hearing it clank loudly against the floor.

Being the last one, Keith looked over to Shiro, seeing the man nod, he dropped his sword, watching it turn back to its original form. You had completely forgotten about his knife, seeing as you soon began to relax a bit.

“We’re willing to work with you Y/N. But not if you’re openly threatening your own life.” Allura’s voice was sharp, yet you could hear the slight tremble in her voice.

Glancing at all of them one last time, you slowly lowered you weapon, letting your arms fall to your side. Walking over to the spacecraft, you leaned against it and had to hold back a chuckle as you saw all of them flinch the closer you got to the ship.

“I don’t want to be locked up anymore.” Was the first thing you said after a few moments of silence. Shiro clenched his jaw, already knowing where this was heading.

“You all say this was for the better but I was slowly going insane trapped in there. You all seem to know me well. You know under normal circumstances, I would never go against you guys.”

You slowly walked up to the group, glancing around to find a camera pointed directly at you all, knowing Coran was watching how this all went down. Like a predator stalking its prey, you circled around them, kicking their bayards further away from them, one by one.

Now standing in front of them, at a distance, you looked at them each in the eyes.

“Now let’s talk.”