#Child Gang Empire | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joonsytip · 10 months ago

Text

Side by Side || Hoshi

Pairings: Hoshi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, mafia boss! Hoshi, cold husband! Hoshi, doctor! Reader, arranged marriage au.

Synopsis: Your marriage to Soonyoung is just a form of convenience to all and you're fed up trying to make things work. So what happens when you start being bratty and it brings out an animalistic side to your cold mafia boss husband?

Warnings: hoshi being the typical cold & rude mafia boss, mafia clan jargon intended, betrayal, reader becomes bratty, couple fights, marriage of convenience, hate sex, angry sex, creampie, choking, biting, marking.

Word Count: 5.5k

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

In the frosty heart of the city, there's a large edifice owned by Soonyoung, a mafia boss, who goes by the alias Hoshi. He is a man of few words and even fewer smiles, a dangerously cold man who rules his criminal empire with an iron fist.

However, even the coldest hearts can take a hit under the circumstances. One day, Soonyoung's advisors come to him with a proposition: an arranged marriage to you, brilliant young physician and the daughter of a powerful ally now, but previously your clan had been prime rival of his clan, things still on the brink of simmering sometimes.

The advisors believe that this union would strengthen Soonyoung's hold on his territory, as your father controlled a large part of the city's medical services and underground capo. Always a man of strategy, Soonyoung agrees to the arrangement, despite his initial lack of interest in matrimony.

The reason, more of the truth is, Soonyoung's empire is under threat from a rival gang and your family has the resources and influence to help turn the tide in his favor. By marrying you, he would secure an alliance that could tip the balance of power in his favor.

Soonyoung has always been a complex man, a man who has built his empire on fear and ruthlessness. But beneath that icy exterior, there is a hint of loneliness and sadness. He has always been a solitary figure, never allowing himself to get close to anyone.

Being an orphan, he was basically raised on the streets of the city. He had learned early on that the world was a cold and unforgiving place. He had made his way up in the criminal underworld, using his cunning tactics and ruthlessness to secure his position as a boss.

To begin with, he had fallen in with a small gang of street thugs and by providing himself as a quick learner, he soon became their leader. It was during this time that he met a seasoned mobster, who recognized his potential and took him under his wing.

Soonyoung's rivals are the Kims, a powerful and ruthless mafia clan who controls a significant part of the city's criminal underworld. They had been feuding with his gang for years over territory, resources, and power.

You, on the contradictory note, are a fiery, independent spirit. You had grown up as the heir of another wealthy and influential mafia clan. Despite your privileged upbringing, you had never allowed yourself to be intimidated by the criminal world that surrounded you.

You had always been a bright and curious child, with a love for learning, excelling in studies, particularly in the field of medicines. Despite your family's objections, you had pursued the medical degree from a prestigious university.

You have seen deaths growing up, so the main reason for becoming a doctor was a way of protesting, while your family killed, you wanted to save lives.

You are shocked on receiving the marriage proposal from Soonyoung's advisors. It's not that you had never expected to be married into another mafia clan but you had never imagined it would be Soonyoung's. You have seen your brothers held at the gunpoint by the said man, in exchange for royalty. Things might look good on the surface but you know better.

So after much discussion and negotiation, you agreed to the marriage. Your family saw it as an opportunity to broker a more prominent peace treaty with Soonyoung's gang.

Though you have agreed to the marriage, your impression of Soonyoung was simple, the leader of the Kwon mafia clan who's ruthless and walks on the blood of people.

You saw this marriage as an opportunity to gain more independence and autonomy within your own family, a chance to make a difference in the criminal underworld by promoting peace and cooperation.

The first time you two meet is at a formal dinner arranged by your family. Though you both are seated next to each other and pleasantries are exchanged, Soonyoung doesn't pay much mind to you.

He is distracted during the dinner, paying more attention to the men of the gang and their discussions, than to you. However as the meal went on, he couldn't help but be drawn to your strength and poise.

Later that evening, when the dinner ends and the guests are leaving, Soonyoung finds himself lingering near you. After much consideration, he asks you to go for a walk in the gardens outside the estate.

As you both walk together in the moonlit gardens, you try to make small talks with him only to meet with dry replies. You can sense the coldness and aloofness in his aura.

His eyes narrow as he asks you bluntly, "So, tell me. Why did you agree to this marriage?

You weren't expecting a blunt question this quick but who are you kidding, it's Soonyoung afterall. Feeling a pang of disappointment, you reply tersely, "My reasons for agreeing to this union are none of your concern. Enough about that, let's return inside."

He seems to ignore your words and continues to press on you, his voice low and rough as he asks, "Do you really think you can handle life with me, as my wife? As the leader's wife?

Soonyoung's sharp tone causes a chill to run down your spine, but you refuse to back down. Meeting his frightening gaze boldly, you reply, "I can handle whatever comes my way, Soonyoung. I am not some delicate flower that will wilt at the first sign of trouble."

His lips quirked into a small smirk at your bold response, his demeanor softening just a little. He couldn't help but admire you for your bravery and strength, and he suddenly feels a desire to know more about you. "Well then..."

He begins to lead you to a secluded part of the garden, away from prying eyes. The moonlight illuminates your path as you both walk together in silence. "I suppose we will have plenty of time to get to know each other once we are married," he says at last with a hint of sarcasm.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he abruptly stops walking and turns to face you. His expression is unreadable as he says, "Y/N, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Just because we are getting married, it doesn't mean that I will be easy on you."

He continues, "You will be my wife in name only. I expect you to follow my orders, no matter what they are. My position as the leader of our people is everything to me, and nothing, not even you, will ever come before it."

You look at Soonyoung, eyes narrowing as you listen to his harsh words. Despite his warning, you could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and it gives you a hope. "I understand." you say quietly.

Over the next few weeks, you are forced to throw yourself into the preparations for your wedding. The entire city is bustling with activity, but one person seemed to be conspicuously absent - Soonyoung. He sends his men and servants to assist with the preparations but he has not been seen in days.

Despite your frustration, you try not to let it show. You don't want to give your would-be husband the satisfaction of knowing that he is getting under your skin. But as the days turns into weeks, you couldn't help but wonder if he is even going to show up for the wedding.

You try to reach out to Soonyoung numerous times, but never receive a response. You have even sent messengers to his estate, but they all returned with the same message - he is unavailable. You even attempted to visit him herself, but were turned away at the gate.

As the days went on, you couldn't help but rethink your decision to marry Soonyoung. You shouldn't have given the nod, shouldn't have agreed under the pressure of your family because Soonyoung is distant and completely unwilling to let you in. You are compelled, you divert yourself back into your regular routine, living in the hospital dorms just to keep yourself busy and your mind away from all sorts of unpleasant thoughts.

With each passing day, you grow more and more convinced that you have made a mistake. You couldn't shake the feeling that Soonyoung would never truly care for you and that your marriage would be nothing more than a political arrangement.

The day of the wedding arrives. You stand wearing the white gown, looking out at the assembled guests. Your heart feels heavy with doubt and you couldn't help but wonder what your life would have been like if you had followed your heart.

The crowd grows restless as the ceremony draws near and there is still no sign of the groom. You try to push down your growing anxiety but you can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. And then finally, as the sun begins to set, Soonyoung appears.

He looks unapologetic and nonchalant as he strolls towards you with small smile on his lips, seeming completely unfazed by the fact that he has kept his bride waiting and takes your hand without a second thought.

As the vows are exchanged, you feel your doubts grow even stronger. You wonder if you would ever be able to truly accept a man who has so carelessly disrespected you. But for now, you bury those feelings and force yourself to smile, knowing that it was too late to turn back now.

The rest of the wedding day passes in a blur. You go through the motions, dancing and laughing with your guests, all the while feeling a growing sense of emptiness inside. And as the night wears on, you are convinced that you have made a grave mistake.

From the start, Soonyoung's cold demeanor and possessive attitude caused friction between you two. He expects you to cater to his every whim, but you have promised yourself to never be intimidated by his threats and his icy stare.

As newlyweds, you both settle into the honeymoon suite. You feel your heart sink once again because you had hoped that the spark would be reignited once you both were alone, but Soonyoung seems more interested in the bottle than in you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your eyes fixed on your hands. Your husband stands by the window, nursing a glass of whiskey. The silence is palpable.

"Soonyoung," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "Why did you leave me alone at the altar today?"

Soonyoung turns to face you, his expression unreadable. He takes a long pull from his glass before answering, "I didn't leave you at the altar, if I did then we wouldn't have been married and you wouldn't have been here."

His face hardens as he steps closer to you, "I don't have time for your tears or your theatrics," he snaps, "You knew that this isn't going to be a normal marriage with rainbows and sunshine so stop whining and play your part."

Your eyes are narrow as you stand up to face him, "I may have agreed to this marriage, but I will not be treated like a doormat," you say, your voice is steady and strong, "I am more than just a trophy wife."

Soonyoung sneers at you, his annoyance growing. "Then what are you, Y/N? You're nothing but a foolish woman because you agreed to this marriage knowing there would be no love, no obligations."

Your eyes flash with anger as you bite back with a retort, "Fine. If you want to play the game of cold indifference, then let's see who breaks first."

You take a step closer to him, your voice low and dangerous, "Don't test me, Soonyoung", you warn, "I may not be a man, but I am not as weak as you seem to think. I can give as good as I get.", you reach up and grab a handful of his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at your sudden burst of anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a sharp look, "I am done being your doormat", you say, your voice full of fire and determination.

After that night, you both settle into a cold and distant marriage. You live in a lavish mansion but the tension between you both is palpable. But even after the heated word exchange, you tried your best to make the marriage work, but Soonyoung's cold and rude demeanor made it impossible.

You made constant efforts to engage with him. You organized dinners and gatherings, hoping that you'd connect over shared interests. You tried to talk to him about the relationship, expressing your desires for a more loving and supportive partnership.

You also made an effort to spend quality time with Soonyoung. You would plan trips and outings, clearing your schedules, hoping that the time alone would help you both grow closer. You would often try to initiate deep conversations in the hopes that it would melt his cold exterior.

Despite your best efforts, your husband remains the same. He shows no signs of caring for you or reciprocating your affections. The lack of feelings weighed heavily on you.

You try to warn Soonyoung when you discover that he has been secretly meeting with a member of the rival mafia clan. As a doctor, you feel strongly about upholding the law but as his wife, you couldn't help but worry about his safe being.

Soonyoung isn't a fool. He knows what he is doing. He has his own reasons for secretly meeting, whoever he is meeting. He believes that forming an alliance with them would bring more power and wealth to his own clan, securing their position as a dominant force in the criminal underworld but if he fails to coax them to form an ally then he'd finish the whole clan.

"You don't understand the ways of the mafia, my dear wife. I do what needs to be done, whether you approve or not.", he answers you.

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into," you plead, your hands gripping his arms in desperation. "The rival clan is ruthless and they will stop at nothing to take us down."

Soonyoung's expression hardens as he pulls his arms out of your grip. "You don't trust me to handle this, do you?" he accuses, his voice full of rage, "I am the leader of this clan, and I know what I'm doing."

Suddenly, Soonyoung's expression darkens as he looks at you, "You have a secret it seems," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Is there something you're hiding from me because how the hell did you know that I'm meeting the people of rival clan?"

Your eyes flash with defiance as you walk out of the room, leaving Soonyoung standing there. You couldn't believe he would accuse you of hiding something from him even after she have just warned him about the danger. He seems to have forgotten that you too belong to a powerful mafia clan.

Since that day, your relationship becomes more strained as you both stopped speaking to each other. Soonyoung is always staking out doing something you don't care about anymore and you sort to spending more time at hospital.

Your heart stops, one night, as you see Soonyoung walk into the home, his clothes soaked in blood. You run to him, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he is okay.

"What happened?", you ask, eyes scanning his body.

Soonyoung's voice is distant as he speaks, "It's not my blood." he says, pushing your hands away. "I killed someone before he could kill me."

Your eyes wander before you look at him. Something about his story doesn't add up. You step closer, studying his face and see the faint traces of tears in his eyes, "Soonyoung," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "What really happened?"

Soonyoung's reaction takes you by surprise but you don't let it deter you. You follow him quietly to your shared bedroom, watching as he collapses on the bed. "Soonyoung," you repeat, your voice softer now, "Tell me the truth."

Soonyoung lets out a sigh as he turns to face you. He looks into your eyes, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you any longer, "I had planted a mole, one of my trusted men in their gang.", he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, "He got caught by them and was already dead when I found him."

Soonyoung hesitates, taking a deep breath before continuing, "If I had arrived a bit earlier, I could have saved him. But I got a hold of some of them and killed them all.", he turns away, his voice filled with regret.

Your concern for your husband overpowers any disappointment you have in him. You move closer to him, your hands gently examining his body for any injuries. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?"

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with pain, "Yes," he whispers, "I was stabbed."

He lifts his shirt, revealing a long wound on his side. You gasp, your hands immediately going to the wound as you inspect it.

You quickly grab some bandages and disinfectant from the first aid kit and carefully clean the wound before wrapping it up, making sure it is clean and protected. "We need to get you to a hospital," you say firmly, "This needs stitches."

He grabs your hand and tells you that he can't.

You frown at his response, but you don't let it deter you, "Soonyoung, this is serious," you say, trying to keep the worry out of your voice, "You need medical attention."

Soonyoung shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening.

His actions cut through you like a knife, "I don't need your help", he spats out, his voice filled with anger and frustration, "Just leave me alone." He pulls his hand away from yours, turning his back on you as he tries to hide the pain in his eyes.

You know that he needs medical attention and you are not going to let him suffer any longer. Gathering up your sewing kit and some painkillers, you approach him again.

You sit down next to him, carefully cleaning and numbing the wound before starting to stitch it up. The entire process is painful and tense, with Soonyoung gritting his teeth and occasionally flinching as the needle goes in.

You don't receive a thanks, rather you receive an ultimatum to never interfere in his matters again.

As the weeks went by, you both grew more distant. You'd only see each other in the bedroom that too occasionally and your conversations are always short and perfunctory. As demanded by your husband, you have finally stopped caring about his matters.

Soonyoung bursts into the mansion one evening, his face red with anger. He has heard something he couldn't believe. He shouts out your name, closing in on you as you sat on the couch.

Your confusion turns into fear as you see the anger in his eyes.

"You dated Minho.", he declares, gritting his teeth, "The son of Kim's, the next boss of their clan."

You hadn't expected him to find out about your brief relationship with the rival gang member. Your voice is stern when you say, "I did date him, but it was years ago when we were both in college. But I broke up with him as soon as I found out who his family was. I never would do anything hurtful for my family or the people I care for."

Soonyoung has been boiling the entire time, he is frustrated, he is mad. So he hurls some insults at you and you do too. The fight has turned into something else entirely. You both are overwhelmed with emotion.

"What kind of man doesn't want his wife?", you yell at him, "Maybe I should go back to Minho, at least he would treat me better."

At this point you're saying anything and everything to bottle out your frustration.

"So you want me to treat you as my wife?", Soonyoung turns calm suddenly, his tone low, "You want me to want you?"

And before you both know it, the anger has turned into something darker and more primal.

Soonyoung reaches you in long strides and kisses you by grabbing your head.

He backs you to the bedroom, lips still connected. One gaze after he pulls away and the tension snaps. You both rip each other's clothes off, your bodies colliding in a rough wave.

You bodies now move in a desperate rhythm, each thrust and grind a testament to the months of frustration and pent-up desire that had been building between the you of you. Soonyoung's hands roamed all over your body, gripping your hips, pulling your hair and squeezing your breasts roughly.

His voice is low and rough as he speaks into your mouth, "You're mine, Y/N.", he says, his hips pistoning into yours, "I can't get enough of you, even when I hate you for speaking of some other man when I was infront of you just because you were feigning for some touch. I'll show that I could all and above."

You meet his intensity with your own. You claw at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as you scream out your own frustration, "I'm not yours, Soonyoung," you spat, "I never was."

You buck your hips, meeting his thrusts with equal ferocity, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body is aching with pleasure and pain because of the roughness.

"You're just a means to an end," you say with a feral glint in your eyes. "You always were."

Soonyoung's lips curl in a savage smile as he hears your words. He grips your hips tighter and slams into you harder, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust, "I'll make sure you never forget me then."

His hand wraps around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to assert dominate. He leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he sucks and bites at your neck, marking you as his, "Happy to finally get what you wanted?"

Your breath hitches as his hand tightens around you throat but you don't back down. You meet his gaze with a fierce glare, your fingers digging into his back deeper as you hold on, "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

Soonyoung chuckles darkly, his hand finally releasing your throat, now placing it on your hips again, pulling you closer to him as he thrusts deeper, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

In response, you wrap your legs around him and meet each of his thrusts with one of your own, your bodies slapping together in a heated dance.

His eyes darken with desire as he continues to thrust, the two of you getting lost in a wild and animalistic rhythm. He reaches down rubbing your clit, causing you to moan loudly as you come undone beneath him.

Feeling you clenching around him as you came, Soonyoung couldn't hold back any longer. He thrusts into you a few more times before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he releases everything he had.

But even as he holds you close to him, he knows that your relationship would never be simple. You are fiery and independent, a woman who would always challenge him and keep him on his toes. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lay in Soonyoung's arms, your body still trembling and humming with pleasure. You have never felt so alive, so free. You have always been a thorn in his side, always pushing back against him, never making it easy for him.

But in this moment, as you lay together, bodies still entwined, you couldn't help but feel something more for your husband. You aren't sure if it is love, or just a deep and primal attraction, but you know that you have found something special in him.

And so, as the night wore on, you and Soonyoung lay there, holding each other tightly.

But eventually, the night had to end. The first light of dawn begins to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the room as you wake up to an empty bed.

And as the sun continues to rise, you both go back to your usual ways, each pretending to be indifferent to the other. But deep down, you both know that something has changed between you both, that you are no longer just enemies, but something more complicated and unpredictable.

And so, as the days passed and the war raged on, you both find yourselves drawn to each other again and again, your fiery chemistry impossible to resist. You fought and fucked, through it all, never not craving each other's touch.

Another such episode comes when you storm into Soonyoung's office, your eyes blazing with anger. You had a long, shitty day at the hospital so you are here, into the vicinity of your husband, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

As soon as you see him, sitting there behind his desk, claded in a fitting suit, all your other thoughts go into the gutter. You couldn't help but feel a deep, primal desire for him. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell that he felt the same way.

Soonyoung's jaw clenches on seeing you and he couldn't help but let his anger show, "What the hell do you want?", he snarls, standing up and slamming his fists on the desk, "How dare you barge into my office?Can't you see I'm busy?"

Your eyes narrow and you let out a low, dangerous laugh, "Oh, I see", you say, sauntering towards him with a seductive sway in your hips, "I thought you'd be busy jerking yourself off to the thought of me."

Soonyoung lets out a laugh as his control snaps. He reaches out and grabs you, pulling you towards him before turning you over and bending over the desk, his hands roughly gripping your hips as he grinds himself against you.

You gasp as his hands roam over your clothed body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist. You moan as he presses himself against you, your body craving his touch despite everything, "Fuck me, Soonyoung."

His voice is low and rough as he leans in close to your ear, "You want me to fuck you, my wife?" he growls, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, "You've been begging for it since the moment you walked in here."

Your smirk turns into a gasp as he turns you around again, hands ripping your clothes. His gaze marvels at you in nothing your lingerie before tearing them as well, revealing your naked body to him. You swear under your breath as the cool air hits your skin, but it's quickly replaced with the heat of Soonyoung's touch.

"You're a fucking animal."

Soonyoung's only response is a guttural growl as he lifts you onto the desk, spreading you legs and entering harshly into you without hesitation. Your hands work on undressing him as he thrusts in. The sound of the bodies slapping against each other fills the room, along with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

The heat of your bodies is overwhelming and your head falls back as you surrender to the pleasure that your husband is giving you. The pain of his rough treatment mixed with pleasure and you find yourself moaning loudly, scratching at his back as he continues to rearrange your insides.

His thrusting never slows as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "You like that, don't you? Being treated like the filthy slut you are."

Your glare turns into a snarl as you grab Soonyoung's throat, your fingers digging into his skin. "Shut up and fuck me harder.", you growl through gritted teeth. Your grip tightens around his neck as you pull him closer, your faces inches apart.

Soonyoung snickers at your response, the smirk never wavering, "With pleasure, my dirty little whore," he responds with a chuckle before kissing you passionately.

"You're damn right, I am." you say pulling away, your grip tightening even more, "Now fuck me like the animal you are."

You pull him down for another rough and bruising kiss, refusing to let go as your bodies collide in a mess of sweat and heat.

He breaks the kiss, a triumphant smirk on his face as his thrust takes animalistic speed.

Your moans and his grunts of pleasure, floods the rooms. You bite on his shoulder blade, leaving an angry red mark as you hold on and let him ravage her body.

Soonyoung's thrusts became more erratic as he feels his orgasm building up within him, ready to spill. Your body shakes with pleasure, the two of you reaching the climax together.

He pulls out of you and collapses onto you, panting and covered in sweat, "Fuck," he says with a grin.

"You're wild.", you glare at him, but a smirk of your own forms as you try to push him off you.

Soonyoung slides off and stretches, his muscles aching from the exertion of your passionate encounter.

"You think that was good just because you could keep up with me?", you laugh with a seductive smirk on your lips, "I've fucked better and rougher."

Soonyoung flexes his muscles, a smug grin on his face, "Well, I guess it was a good thing for you then, wasn't it?" he shot back, pushing your buttons with ease.

You roll your eyes but couldn't keep the smile off your face.

"You know what?", you say as you hop off the table, "Keep telling yourself that.", you start walking towards the bathroom, "I'll take a shower first, wanna join?"

You look down at your torn clothes and laugh with a playful glint in her eye, "Well, looks like I'll be walking out of here naked", and look over at your husband with a smirk, "I guess you want all your men to see me like this."

Soonyoung's temper flares at the thought of all the men in the office seeing his wife naked. He quickly follows you into the bathroom with a fierce determination on his face.

"Fuck no." he mutters to himself and turns you around to face him.

He cups your face and looks deeply into your eyes, "You're mine and I won't share you with anyone.", he says possessively, a fierce protectiveness in his gaze, "So, either put on my spare clothes or wait till I get you something to wear."

Your eyes flashed with a hint of defiance as you shrug off in hold, "I don't care if anyone sees me naked.", you snip to rile him up.

Soonyoung steps closer, "If you let another man look at this state of yours whether or not I'm around, I will rip them apart," he growls.

And he doesn't waste any time. His carnal instincts takes over once again so you are now bent her over the bathroom counter, his hands gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind as he fucks with a wild abandon.

The bathroom was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the slick slap of the bodies. His fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deep inside you, his lips pressing a savage kiss to your shoulder, "Mine."

Your head falls back, breath hitching as Soonyoung hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you, "Yes.", you gasp, "All yours."

As your orgasm subsides for the second time, Soonyoung gently pulls out of you and turns you to face him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I mean it," he murmurs, "You're mine."

You are taken aback by this sudden affectionate gesture. You hadn't expected tenderness from him after your rough session earlier. You look up at him and smile softly, a strange warmth spreading through your chest, "I'm yours, Soonyoung.", you repeat, your voice softer this time.

Your husband smiles back and tilts your head up so he can see you better. He looks into your eyes, his own softening as he sees the sincerity in your gaze., "And I'm yours.", he whispers before leaning in and kissing you softly.

You have already melted the icy shield and Soonyoung thinks it's time he starts to show that he can be sincere, that he too wants this marriage to work.

Urgent knocks on the office door makes Soonyoung scrumbling out of the bathroom, searching for his clothes in a hurry. He knows that the pattern of those knocks always meant some trouble.

Just as he goes to open the door, he hears the clanking of the gun and turns back only to feel the metal being pressed on the skin of his forehead.

"Hey, Hoshi.", you smile at your husband condescendingly, holding him at the gunpoint.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

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all-things-are-nothing-to-me · 5 months ago

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Left to right. First row.

1. The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell.

In a joyous and perverse intermingling of fable, myth, heterotopian vision, and pocket wisdom, The Faggots & Their Friends tell us stories of the 70s gay countercultures and offer us strategies and wisdom for our own time living Between Revolutions. These pages sketch a different shape to time and offer instructions for living within it. This story, like our own, plays out in liminal time. Not the time of revolution, and not after-the-revolution, the story occurs between revolutions. Being between revolutions: being enmeshed in slow entropy, in abandoned spaces, in lives forged without recourse to “winning” or “after.” The faggots feel this disintegration, and live best when empires are falling.

2. Be Gay, Do Crime by The Mary Nardini Gang.

Among the discordant chorus of anons who penned the defining texts of the queer anarchist network Bash Back!, none was more fervent in its glorification of criminal desire, decadent hedonism, and social undoing than the Milwaulkee-based Mary Nardini Gang. Their fiery “Towards the Queerest Insurrection” still circulates as an integral manifesto of riotous queerness, while the “Criminal Intimacy” and “Whore Theory” have made their more subterranean way into innumerable conversations and correspondences.

Ten years later, the secretive group supplements these collected writings with a subtle retrospective. Carefully unlocking the hidden layers of their theses on insurrection, they face up to what they got wrong, concede that the world ended somewhere between the Greek insurrection of 2008 and now, and insist upon the vital task of ushering new worlds into being as we live amid the decomposition and cataclysmic death throes of the old one. To their theses on insurrection, they prepend a new arcana tooled for opening onto the queerest of outsides.

Dedicated to their friends among the dead, this pocket edition is a necromantic mirror, an encrypted message to old loves, and an invitation to those finding these words for the first time.

3. The Criminal Child by Jean Genet.

“As for me, I have chosen: I will be on the side of crime. And I will help the children, not to win back access to your houses, your factories, your schools, your laws, and sacraments, but to destroy them.”

So reads this new clandestine translation of a previously censored and unavailable text by Jean Genet. “The Criminal Child” is a critical engagement with the French youth prisons, a reflection on Genet’s formative years within them, a document of hostility towards society and its benevolent reformers, and – as argued by the anonymous afterword – an initiatory magical system.

5. Witchcraft and the Gay Counterculture by Arthur Evans.

This radical faerie classic, first published in 1978 by Fag Rag Press, uncovers the hidden mythic link between homosexuality and paganism in an elegy for the world of sex and magic vanquished by Christian civilization. From Joan of Arc to the Cathars and the underground worshippers of Diana, the author shows how every upwelling of gender transgression and sexual freedom was targeted by the authorities for total and often violent repression or appropriation. The concluding manifesto calls for pagan reconnection with the living world, the creation of armed anarchist cells, and the destruction of industrial civilization.

Left to right. Row 2.

1. What is Gender Nihilism? A Reader.

A collection gathering readings for discussions on an end to gender: not the proliferation or liberation of gender, but its catastrophic cancellation. The reader brings together writings as old as 1883 and as recent as 2015, juxtaposing nihilist, radical feminist, queer, trans, anticolonial, communizing and insurrectionary approaches with other unclassifiable textual/existential disruptions. Many of the readings are out of print or have only appeared online or in zine form, and include: Adrienne Rich, Monique Wittig, Michel Foucault, Judith Butler, A.R. Stone, Paul B. Preciado, the entities known as Radicalesbians, Gender Mutiny, Baedan, Ehn Nothing, Laboria Cuboniks and, as always, Anonymous. Also includes “My Preferred Gender Pronoun is Negation,” “Gender Nihilism” by Aidan Rowe, and the gender nihilism anti-manifesto that inspired the collection.

2. Baedan 1 – journal of queer nihilism.

3. Baedan 2 – a queer journal of heresy.

If the first issue of Baedan was a knife thrust wildly in the dark, the second is an effort to examine our enemies in a new light; enemies who bear scars yet endure. In a sense, this issue follows through our initial attack and pushes beyond our own horrors at the consequences of words. We write at a time when everything which seemed slightly possible two years ago has borne its rotten fruit; when queer recuperation has become more powerful and accepted than ever, while the fetish for technology has reached an unprecedented frenzy; when so many efforts at subversion languish under the tyranny of cybernetic identity and aesthetics (even our own etymologies have become identities!); when friends turn away out of fear of the unknown, turn toward all the comforts and certainties of the past (identity politics, traditionalism, religious morality, activism, et al). The old enemies rear their heads and the terrain is as bleak as ever. And yet we take seriously that adage: “There’s no need to fear or hope, but only to look for new weapons.”

4. Baedan 3 – journal of queer time travel.

Bædan: journal of queer time travel marks a further attempt to pose and to flesh out a queer critique of civilization. Queer not only in the sense of coming from those outside and disruptive of the Family, but also in the sense of a critique weirder than its more orthodox cousins. We imagine the Bædan project as an effort to pose the critique of civilization otherwise, to begin from another place. In this issue (and beyond…) we have conjured a strange bestiary of thinking, trying to unearth and trace the tradition of anti-civilization thought in the literature of queerness and in queerness as immanent critique.

*I couldn't find this one online*

#queer nihilism #queer anarchism

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verstappenf1lecccc · 4 months ago

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you’ve lost me forever

mafia osc?? super angst?? with pregnant reader??

Oscar was a force of nature, the kind of man who commanded respect with a single glance, whose reputation struck fear into the hearts of even the most hardened criminals. He was the head of the notorious Orsini Mafia, a ruthless empire built on blood and fear. But beneath the icy exterior of the mafia boss, there was one weakness—you. His pregnant wife, the woman who had somehow become the soft center of his hard world.

When Oscar had met you, he had never believed anyone could break through his cold, calculating demeanor. But you did, effortlessly, with a smile, with kindness, and a love so pure it seemed almost unreal in the world he lived in. And when you told him you were carrying his child, the love he never thought he could feel bloomed, filling his heart with a tenderness that no one else could see.

But in his world, peace was fleeting, and enemies never stopped lurking in the shadows. The Vellini gang, desperate to exact revenge for a betrayal Oscar had orchestrated, knew the one thing that would destroy him. So, they did the unthinkable—they kidnapped you, his precious wife.

They didn’t care about your life, but they knew they could make you suffer to make Oscar pay for his sins. They dragged you through the streets, shackled and bruised, forcing you to witness the terror they planned to inflict upon him. They told you it was simple: In exchange for your release, Oscar would surrender. But they knew Oscar would never bow to anyone—not even for you.

They kept you in a dark, damp basement, chained to a wall, your swollen belly the target of their cruelty. They starved you, beat you, and used every method they knew to break you, to get Oscar to surrender. But despite the pain, despite the constant fear for your life and your baby’s, you never once begged. You held on to the thought of Oscar, the love he had shown you, and the life that was growing inside you. You didn’t know if you’d survive this, but you couldn’t break. You couldn’t let them win.

But soon, the stress, the lack of nourishment, and the cruelty took its toll. Your body, already fragile from the pregnancy, started to deteriorate. You felt the life inside you flicker, slipping away like sand through your fingers. You could feel your strength fading with every passing hour. The pain in your chest was unbearable, and the last thing you wanted was for Oscar to lose his child because of this nightmare.

Back in the city, Oscar was on a warpath. When he heard of your abduction, his entire world shattered. The mafia king became a desperate, broken man, hunting for you with a fury that scared even his own men. He tortured every informant, destroyed every obstacle in his way. He cared about nothing but getting you back—alive and safe. And he would tear apart the world to find you.

Days turned into weeks, and Oscar’s desperation grew. He wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t eating. His every breath was consumed with the thought of you. He had promised to protect you. He had sworn on his soul that he would keep you safe. But now, in this moment of terror, he realized just how far he had failed.

And then, one fateful night, the gods of vengeance gave him a break.

Oscar burst into the abandoned warehouse where the Vellinis were hiding you, his fury knowing no bounds. His men cleared the building with ruthless precision, but his eyes were locked on the door at the back, where he knew you were being kept. His heart raced, his pulse hammering in his ears. His world came to a standstill the moment he laid eyes on you—pale, bruised, barely conscious, but still alive.

“You’re safe now,” Oscar whispered, his voice hoarse as he gently scooped you into his arms. The sight of you, broken and fragile, nearly brought him to his knees.

You looked up at him, your eyes clouded with pain and confusion, your lips trembling. “Oscar…” you whispered, your voice so faint he could barely hear it. “I… I’m so sorry… I couldn’t—”

He pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Don’t apologize, tesoro,” he murmured, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “You’ve done nothing wrong. This is on me. I’ll make it right.”

Carefully, he carried you to his car, whispering soothing words in your ear, telling you over and over that you were safe now, that he would never leave you again. His heart was shattered at the sight of you, but there was a quiet determination in his soul. He would fix this. He would make sure nothing else would ever harm you.

The next few days were the hardest of Oscar’s life. He stayed by your side, watching over you as you healed. Your body was frail, your skin pale, and your spirit broken. He spent every waking moment tending to you, doing everything he could to bring you back from the edge. He forced you to eat, holding the spoon to your lips when you refused. He bathed you, brushing the damp hair from your face, and comforted you when the nightmares of your captivity haunted your dreams.

The days that followed Oscar’s rescue of you were nothing like he had imagined. The sight of you, battered and broken, had torn him apart, and he could barely breathe knowing what you had endured at the hands of the Vellinis. He thought he could fix it all. He thought that with time, care, and his relentless love, you would heal. But reality was harsher than he could ever have anticipated.

Oscar stayed by your side day and night, his hands constantly hovering over you, as if afraid that the slightest distance would break the fragile thread that kept you tethered to this world. He forced you to eat, gave you water when you could barely lift your head, whispered sweet words, and vowed revenge on those who had taken you. But there was one thing he couldn’t control—the life inside you, the baby you had lost.

It had been days since the rescue. Every breath you took seemed to be a battle, your strength was fading. The bruises and cuts were healing, but there was an emptiness in your eyes that nothing seemed to fill. Your body had been through too much. The stress of the kidnapping, the starvation, and the brutal beatings had taken their toll. The baby—his baby—was gone.

Oscar had tried everything to keep you alive, to keep the hope of your child alive. But when the doctors confirmed what he had already feared, it was a crushing blow. The life that had once thrived inside you had slipped away, leaving behind only an aching void.

The loss was too much. You couldn’t handle it. And in your grief, the rage you’d kept buried finally exploded.

“You promised me, Oscar!” Your voice was barely a whisper, but the anger in your eyes burned like fire. “You promised me you’d protect us. You promised me I’d never have to fear, that I’d never be harmed again. But look at me! Look at what’s left of me. Look at what you’ve done!”

Oscar stood frozen, his heart breaking at the sight of you, a shell of the woman he had once loved so fiercely. He wanted to say something, to make it right, to tell you that this wasn’t his fault. But how could he, when you were right? How could he when he had failed you in the most unforgivable way? The mafia boss, the ruthless man who had always been untouchable, was now nothing more than a broken man standing at the precipice of his own despair.

“I didn’t ask for this life,” you continued, your voice shaking with tears. “I didn’t ask for you to drag me into this world. I didn’t ask for any of it. I didn’t ask to be your wife and carry your child, only for you to leave us both to die.”

Oscar’s chest tightened at your words, his breath catching in his throat. Every accusation felt like a knife to his soul. He had no defense. No words of comfort to offer. You were right to hate him. You were right to blame him. He had promised to protect you and failed.

The silence between you was thick, oppressive. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, each beat heavy with guilt. “I never wanted this,” he finally said, his voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt you,I—”

“You did,” you whispered, cutting him off. “You hurt me more than I could ever explain. And now… our baby’s gone. Gone because of you.”

His breath hitched. He had never felt this powerless in his life. This was worse than any enemy, worse than any bullet. To see you like this, to know that you blamed him, to see the raw anger in your eyes—it broke him in a way he could never have anticipated. He wanted to tell you that it wasn’t his fault, that it was the Vellinis, that they had taken everything from you, from both of you. But the truth was: he was the one who had let you down.

He stepped closer, wanting to hold you, wanting to do something, anything to ease your pain. But when you flinched away from him, a deep ache settled in his chest. You didn’t want him near you. You didn’t want his touch.

“Just go, Oscar. I need you to leave,” you said quietly, your words a final blow that cut through him like a sword.

“Baby, please,” he whispered, voice raw with emotion. “Please don’t say that.”

But you didn’t look at him. You simply turned your back, your body trembling with emotion as you curled into yourself, shutting him out entirely.

Oscar stood there, feeling the weight of his failure pressing down on him. His mind screamed for him to do something, anything to fix it, but there was no fixing this. There was no redemption here. Not for him, and certainly not for you.

For the first time in his life, Oscar realized there was nothing he could do to save you. Nothing he could do to save himself. You had lost the child you both had dreamed of, and no matter how much he loved you, no matter how many apologies he offered, it could never bring that baby back.

Slowly, he turned and walked toward the door. But just before he stepped out, he looked back one last time, taking in the woman he had loved so fiercely, the woman he had failed.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. But there was no reply.

And so, he left—quietly, silently, knowing the one truth that had shattered his soul: You would never forgive him.

#f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #formula one #mafia!f1 #oscar piastri x wife reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar x reader #oscar piastri #f1 fandom #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #mafia!au #mafia!oscar

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uchispeach · 1 month ago

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Empire (Pt. 1)

Dark! Drug Lord x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Possessive and manipulative behavior, obsession, death threats, gang violence, guns & drugs, kidnapping, non-con groping & kissing, manhandling, age gap, Sheltered! Reader…

Summary: The moment Rafael Caro Quintero laid eyes on you, something inside him snapped. You weren’t meant for his world—too innocent, too untouched—but that didn’t matter. He wanted you. And when Rafa wanted something, he took it.

Oblivion could be blissful, except when the order of things is unexpectedly changed from one day to another.

Reality can give devastating hits, that’s why most people decide to hide under ignorance—to sit still until it all explodes on their faces. You were one of those people, just not willingly.

Your dad knew you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed; a sweet and gentle soul like you wouldn’t survive a day by yourself. At least, that’s what he told himself when cutting every single feather of your freedom wings, prohibiting you to even dream about leaving home one day.

It’s not like many questions were asked, you were never a rebellious child—always latching to your dad’s side after your mother’s abandonment, probably afraid of being left behind once again.

The bubble you lived in felt pretty stable, all filled with calmness and warmth. A loving father, a nice house and a calm city, that’s all you had known for 19 years.

“Good morning!” You stopped chewing in order to cover your mouth, pronouncing each word with effusiveness. Your father looked neat, a perfect ironed shirt accompanied by his signature vest. “Good morning, pretty girl!” His polished shoes squeaked funnily against the wood flooring.

Adding to his serious look, a black leather suitcase hung from his arm. Your eyes focused on his flared nostrils, admiring his ability to smell food from meters apart. “Oh, just what I like” His tone leaked with excitement, followed by desperate hands reaching for the utensils.

Each meal was spent together, one of the various rules you had been imposed since a young age. You weren’t opposed to it at all, gladly enjoying your father’s company when eating yet another home cooked meal.

The Kitchen’s layout was just the same from any other middle class home, classic and cozy—causing the electronic device in front of you to stand out.

A TV was one of those things you could never convince your father to like, too modern and distracting for his academic taste. However, with enough begging and birthday wishing, you could finally get to bring it home.

“Police are still investigating the sudden death of José Naranjo and his brother, Pablo Naranjo. Two recognized business men in Guadalajara, owners of multiple restaurants and hotels spread all over the city-” The news reporter looked dull, monotone voice combining his inexpressive features.

“Turn that off…breakfast is for spending time with family not staring at a screen.” Your dad looked at you through sharp eyes, adding authority to his demand. You complied immediately, rushing to press the button.

“Pft. Business men, I can’t believe that’s what they call them nowadays.” The silver fork suffered under his grasp, eyebrows tightened together showing discontent. Meanwhile, confusion decorated your face—quickly puzzled by the sudden complaint.

“What do you mean, daddy?” The last mentioned sighed heavily. “I’m just saying…people don’t get killed for no reason.” You froze, limbs feeling heavy at the cruel assumption. “Don’t say that, dad!” A hint of indignation tickling your throat.

Unfortunately, your father was right. The Naranjos weren’t your common old money family. In fact, they didn’t even come from generational wealth, more so from new opportunities. Two guys that knew exactly who to bribe, who to be friends with and who to eliminate. The pair of drug lords who ran your state.

The grey haired man decided to ignore your newfound empathy, clearly aware that it came from naivety.

One would think the extinction of yet another pair of assholes was a great input for humanity, and it was. The only problem being the empty vacant waiting to be filled by a crueler competitor.

Either way, none of that seemed to affect you from the Ford Pinto’s passenger seat. Too occupied admiring the city’s morning glow—unaware of the growing revolution happening on the same land you happily stepped on every day.

(…)

Punctuality above anything else, that’s what had been preached at home since the day you came to this world. Still, you always seemed to find new ways to distract yourself on campus.

But who could blame you? No one, not when a middle class girl with mediocre grades like you got to attend one of the most elite universities in all the country. “Ugh, thank God…at least, we’ll be late together.” You flinched at the intrusive arms wrapping around your shaky shoulders.

Sofia’s timeless face stared at you in playfulness, her pink lips stretched on a confident smirk while her gold earrings swinged around. “I wouldn’t be so relieved if I was you…” Your voice shook with each long stride you took.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure being the teacher’s daughter has its perks.” The brunette’s hair bounced smoothly with each movement, accompanied by her flared jeans and girly purse.

A slight frown morphed your features. On one side, you were deeply grateful for your father’s efforts, recognizing he was the only reason you ever got to step foot in the building. But on the other, it was exhausting��having to perform under his perfectionist supervision could be dreadful.

“Knock.” The tall girl threw at you, standing lazily next to a closed door. You shook your head in horror. “No. You knock!” Even with all the noise coming from the corridor, you could still hear the grey haired man lecturing the class of rich kids.

“Whatever…” Sofia’s green eyes rolled with annoyance, followed by his rough hands turning the metal handle. You took a deep breath, chest rising rapidly at the crowded room’s sight.

“Miss Conesa…and companion.” He looked strict, with his straightened back, puffed chest and one foot ruler pointing straight at you. Warmth started flowing to your face, feeling overwhelmed by the possibility of being berated in front of your juvenile classmates.

“Just…take a seat.” His sigh echoed through the tall walls, hurrying you to take a seat upfront. Quickly, your hands scattered through the infinity of notebooks, hoping to not anger the professor any further.

(…)

“And that’s the difference between permeable and impermeable surfaces.” The sun leaked through the huge windows, reflecting its beautiful light on the chalk drawings. Your heart rate had finally stabilized after a few minutes of inhaling and exhaling frenetically. Leaving you in a relaxed state while attentively listening to yet another geographic explanation.

The soft hand held your jaw with gentleness, a common pose you took when being deeply entertained. Your dad sure knew how to give a class, making you feel a sense of pride while seeing him talk through every topic with professionalism.

He looked so composed, right in his element. Suddenly, his face morphed into a surprised one. His normally straight eyes opened up like two big plates, staring abnormally at a foreign presence.

Perhaps three foreign presences. Deep in thought, you had managed to ignore the heavy boots unapologetically stepping into your learning zone.

The door was left wide open, blocked by three brutish looking men. Their features were rough, just as their burly bodies, which flexed proudly under old T-shirts and torn jeans. They had dirt on their shoes and arms, making them stand out from the crowd of ironed dresses and Italian loafers. Still, none of those characteristics were as astonishing as the pair of handguns hanging from their side.

“Class is over.” The taller one stepped forward, leaving his two henchmen behind. Funnily enough, he was the only one without a weapon, nonetheless, he had the scariest presence out of them all.

His voice was deep and demanding, his frame nothing but small. He was all big muscles and scarred skin, a clenched jaw adding authority to his already outrageous behavior.

The two dark orbs posed themselves dangerously over your father, making you gasp quietly. “What the fuck?” Sofia whispered from beside you, following the crowd’s confused murmuring.

“Didn’t you hear, motherfuckers?” The shorter one shouted aggressively, making you jump out of your seat with shaking legs. “Get moving! Get the fuck out of here!” Big surprise hit you like a truck when every single one of your spoiled classmates started abandoning the room, a few of them encouraged by the frenetic trashing coming from the armed individuals.

The stiffer ones were not-so kindly moved by violent pulling and pushing, quickly kicked out onto the hall. The turmoil of emotions had you frozen in place, weak knees barely holding you up.

Fear clouded your senses, making you fail at recognizing the angry man approaching you from the side. “No. Wait!” You struggled to move under the tight grip, one of the aggressive goons dragging you by the forearm and onto the room’s entrance.

Meanwhile, the leader stomped his way to your father. Maniac glint in his gaze while approaching your trembling father. You trashed harder against the mean guy’s chest, planting your feet on the wood floor. “My babies are dying…Because of you, asshole.” Spit flew to your dad’s face, making him squeeze his eyes together in a mixture of disgust and fear.

“But don’t worry, you’re going to fix this.” In one swift movement, the delinquent grabbed him by the collar. “Let go of him. Dad!” Voice broken making your demand sound much less intimidating, and much more pitiful.

Slowly but confidently, the wild beast turned his head around—attention focused on a new target. The tip of his lips stretched sickly across his face, making you question whether a smile had even been a kind gesture to begin with.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re coming with us too.” His calloused hands yanked your father back, making him stumble over his desk. “Chapo, start the car. We’re leaving with both princesses.” The last thing you saw was a shameless wink.

And as you were forced to keep your sight down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of two dark orbs burning holes into your skin.

(…)

"Honesty is the root of trust," your father used to say each night before tucking you in. "And families trust each other."

It’s funny to look back on now, considering the number of times you caught him in a lie.

"Trust needs to be earned," he'd add, as if to justify the weight of his words. Now, that made more sense. Harsh but true. You weren’t worthy of trust—not in his eyes. He’d made that clear, thousands of times.

Like when he lied about where your mother was—told you she was just "gone for a while," but you saw her things packed up in the car days before.

It wasn’t hard to see, the avoidance of your dad’s stare was noticeable—even for a hazy girl like you. Either way, there had been no time for confrontation, both of you being quickly thrown into an unknown car.

The thick fabric covering your face made you feel suffocated, preventing your eyes from wandering around. All you sensed was the heavy smell of a cigar, mixed with a strong herbal note. A beer bottle rolled all over the vehicle’s floor, occasionally crashing against your feet.

Rafa—that was the leader’s nightmarish name. You’d heard the four letters being thrown from one of his men, in the midst of imploring for mercy as dozens of curses flew their way. Rafa wasn’t a merciful man, though, fueled by his never-ending rage.

“Fucking imbeciles,” he barked through clenched teeth, hitting the compartment with a tight fist once again. “Geologist, you better sort this shit out or I’ll fuck you up…”

A vein popped on his forehead, his wild curly hair barely covering it, while sharp teeth flashed in a wolfish smirk. Your eyes couldn’t admire it, but your mind couldn’t help but imagine it. “…real bad.” His last words were buried by a thick cloud of smoke, followed by a cruel laugh.

Northern Mexican music blasted through the vehicle’s radio, making you feel overwhelmed—alongside your companion’s anxious leg constantly bumping against yours.

Would honesty had been of any help?… Perhaps it could’ve kept you from hysterically sobbing against the leather seats, but knowing yourself, it would’ve given your fear deeper roots.

Guadalajara’s sun scorched your exposed skin, the flimsy sundress offering little protection. A pair of dark eyes fixated on you, trailing over your trembling body as their owner licked his lips in anticipation.

The car lurched to a sudden stop, the jolt making your limbs feel impossibly heavy. “Stop crying, doll. You’re in good hands.” A pair of rough, calloused hands yanked you forward, fingers digging harshly into your wrists as you collided with a firm chest.

The scent hit you first—leather and tobacco, laced with the cold, metallic bite of money. The path beneath your feet was uneven, sharp rocks tearing at your delicate flats, a cruel contrast to the heavy boots beside you.

Rafa’s large palm settled firmly on your nape, forcing you deeper into the unknown. His grip was suffocating, his presence inescapable. Dust swirled in the air, the distant murmur of men blending with your father’s ragged breathing. A sea of outlawed cowboys surrounded you, their watchful eyes tracking your every move.

Suddenly, you were held still, the big hand applying an unnecessary force to your neck. A hurt whine resumed your tears.

The first thing you saw was a precarious floor, all dirt, no pavement. Such a contrast from the cosmopolitan city you were forced out of.

A languid moan alerted you—your father’s formal clothes turned a mess as he kneeled down. The men surrounding you wore rough features, all crossed arms and mean stares. “They’re drier than your ass.” Rafa’s remark made the goons laugh.

Dope, kilometers and kilometers of weed—dying herbs starting to look brown at the lack of hydration. Your lips opened in surprise, a loud gasp leaving them unannounced. The plantation was immense, its illicit leaves flaunting almos mockingly at you.

Blink after blink, you weren’t able to take in the grandness of it. Your fixation denied you from awareness while your father stuttered at the mob’s complaints.

“Don’t lie to me. You know about this shit!” The furious man kneeled down, accusing the innocent man with a pointed finger. “That day, when I visited you in your classroom…fuck, you told me it was here.” The rant was endless, insult after insult burying your father deeper into desperation.

“Geography isn’t an exact science.” You expressed, reaching a pair of intolerant ears.

The thing about ignorance, it’s that it's often followed by recklessness. His orbs were a dark brown, making them almost match his black hair. But when he focused his gaze at you, they grew even darker than the inky strands.

“Is that right?” The slow roll of his shoulders as he stood up, the way his fingers gripped his belt—it was a silent warning, a display of dominance wrapped in effortless ease. “I don’t fucking care…” Your breath hitched when his hand reached out for your jaw—silver rings pinching your soft cheeks. “…You better find my water,” Every word was enunciated with contained violence, husky voice fanning your ear lobe. “or I’ll kill you both.” Rafa gave you a last tug, shaking your brain with aggressiveness.

Your knees wobbled as his helped him back up confidently. Without breaking eye contact, his fingers snapped condescendingly. A short armed guy ran to his side, providing him with relief—the fat blunt was instantly lighted by another man, allowing Rafa to take a slow drag from it.

(…)

The sun had long withdrawn, fading the heat, and quickly replacing it by the cool breath of the desert wind—that stirred the sand in soft whispers.

The moon, high and full, bathed everything in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows of the illegal crops. The goosebumps traveling down your spine were starting to become insufferable, representing the chilling cold penetrating your bones.

Rafa, on the other hand, seemed to be just fine. His shirt had long abandoned his torso—leaving a wide chest only covered by multiple gold chains.

Your tears had dried out, leaving salty paths down your puffy cheeks. You could barely focus on the map, your fingers tracing the faint lines that Rafa, with his commanding presence, had insisted you hold steady. Your gaze, despite your best efforts, would drift to him — to the way his broad shoulders moved as he worked, digging into the earth with purpose. The muscles of his back rippled with every movement, each twist and turn of his body making the air seem heavier, more intoxicating.

He was relentless, his focus unwavering, even as his chest rose and fell with the exertion of his labor. The sweat that clung to his skin glistened in the moonlight, the gold chains around his neck catching the light in a hypnotic way. His vulgar curses would occasionally make you flinch, alongside the smoldering gaze he would direct to you each time the wind lifted your skirt.

Most of his men had drifted to sleep, exhausted by the long hours of being overworked—their snores barely drowned by the sporadic explosion of a grenade.

“Fucking bullshit” An animalistic grunt flew your way as Rafa climbed out of the huge hole he had just dug. His heavy lidded eyes leaked with frustration, making you step back in precaution.

Heavy boots made the floor creak. The man with black hair stomped his way back into the thatched-roof hut you had previously used to take refuge from the sun. Shyly, you followed right behind.

“Sons of bitches” He murmured between greeted teeth, violence in his eyes at the sight of a sleepy crew. A bottle of beer crashed onto the floor, purposely thrown by the fuming boss.

With both dirty hands, he took a whole batch of boxes with him. Effortlessly, he carried the explosive filled thing.

“Rafa, I don’t think that’s a good-” Your opinion went half heard, a concussive rumble numbing your ear holes and everyone’s around.

Men’s grunts and gasps were heard from all around, the explosion having woken up the sleepy crew. “What the fuck, Rafa?” The one they called ‘Chapo’ spoke in a raspy tone. Still, nothing seemed to get the maniac to stop.

This time, a whole box was thrown, “God damn it. You’re going to kill us all.” The black haired man pulled the pin of the last grenade with a slow, deliberate motion, his fingers steady despite the chaos humming in the air. The metal clinked as he rolled the explosive between his palms, like he was savoring the moment. But, just before he let it drop into the dark abyss below, he turned his head—just enough to catch your gaze. His eyes, wild and electric, gleamed under the dim light, a wicked grin stretching across his face, as if it was all just a game to him.

“Back up, back up.” Your father’s voice in the background did little for your nerves. Instinctively, your eyes shut together in distress.

The first explosion ripped through the silence like a thunderclap. Fire erupted from the impact, a shockwave tearing through the air, sending dirt flying in every direction. Before the dust could settle, a second detonation followed, louder, angrier. Then, absolute silence.

Nothing but the occasional chirping of a cricket interrupted the stillness. Until, it happened. A thin trickle seeped through the fractured soil. The trickle grew, turning into a steady stream, then water started surging upward in sudden bursts.

The liquid soaked you entirely, making you fear nearing hypothermia. “No fucking way, man!” Excited shouts numbed your brain, causing dizziness to attack you.

People jumped up and down in excitement, causing the ground to tremble beneath the force. Your confusion made you stumble around, no real direction in mind.

A pair of strong arms kept you steady for once, shameless digits gripping onto your hips. Dangling chains and sweaty chest pressing against you.

You felt him, the heat his body exuded was suffocating—as well as the invasive rubbing on your waist.

His breathing was ragged as it fanned on your hair. Big palms travelled to your jaw, handling it to the right angle—making you meet his dilated pupils.

He towered over you, mentally and physically. Every single one of his pores leaked cockiness, accompanied by that unbeatable grin, the type of grin only a powerful man has.

You were at the beginning of his empire and he would make sure you followed until the end of it. "You just secured me a shit ton of money," he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, taunting. But there was no choice to be made, no escape from the crushing weight of his presence.

Before you could react, he took what he wanted—mouth colliding with yours in a brutal, possessive kiss. His grip on your jaw tightened as his tongue forced its way past your lips, swallowing your muffled protest like it was nothing. The world around you erupted in chaos—gunfire cracking through the air, cheers ringing out—but all you could feel was him, suffocating, unyielding, claiming.

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reality-detective · 7 months ago

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This is the Red Alert You Can’t Ignore: Iran’s Military on U.S. Soil, Deep State Chaos, and the Elite’s Plot to Destroy America from Within!

The moment of truth is here. The battle for America’s soul is no longer in the shadows. The Deep State is waging war on our own soil, and the global elite are covering it up. Foreign forces are already inside our borders, preparing to strike.

We are on the brink of civil war. This isn't a drill. The Deep State, desperate to save their crumbling empire, has unleashed foreign troops to sow chaos. Enemy soldiers have infiltrated our country. Their targets: our key states, our critical infrastructure, and YOU.

Foreign Forces in Our Cities – Military Operations Escalate

The military is actively engaging on U.S. soil, but it’s not just our forces. Foreign soldiers are here, right now, waiting to tear America apart from the inside. California, Texas, Florida—they’ve been infiltrated by globalist-backed mercenaries disguised as South American gangs. These aren’t street criminals; they’re soldiers in the Deep State’s war against the American people.

Iranian troops have been sighted in the western U.S.—yes, actual Iranian military units, placed here by the Deep State to bring America to its knees when the time comes. The elites have sold us out—politicians and globalist operatives are working with these foreign forces to trigger America’s collapse.

Infrastructure is the target. Power grids, water supplies, and transportation hubs are all vulnerable, and the plan is clear: shut America down from within. When the lights go out, panic will explode, and the chaos will only grow. This is how they intend to bring America to its knees—through engineered collapse, martial law, and total domination.

The Deep State’s Master Plan: Civil War and Chaos

This plot has been years in the making. Every crisis, every election, every war was designed to bring us to this breaking point. But now, the Deep State is pulling the trigger on their final operation: a staged civil war. The military buildup in states like Texas, Florida, and California is not just for civil unrest; it’s a preparation for war against domestic and foreign enemies working for the Deep State.

Their endgame? Unleash chaos, call in foreign troops to “restore order,” and seize control. This is about more than power—it’s about absolute domination. They want you to own nothing, control nothing, and obey everything.

The Satanic Cabal: The Elite Families Want You Dead

Behind this operation are satanic monsters—the Rothschilds, Rockefellers, and their elite cronies who have been profiting from war, famine, and suffering for generations. These aren’t just businessmen. They are child traffickers, blood-drinkers, and war profiteers. The exposure of their networks is happening NOW.

Child trafficking, satanic rituals, organ harvesting—all of it is coming to light. The military is poised to blow their operations wide open, and they know their time is up.

The Quantum Financial System (QFS): Their Greatest Fear

The elite’s worst nightmare is the Global Currency Reset (GCR) and Quantum Financial System (QFS). Once it’s activated, the entire corrupt financial structure they’ve built crumbles. This is why they’re desperate to cause chaos and civil war. They need to stop the QFS from liberating humanity from their debt slavery system.

The storm is coming. The Deep State is moving fast, but we are faster. Prepare now. Stock up, stay alert, and get ready for the fight of your life.

I have been seeing this 👆 more and more...

The Storm Is Approaching 🤔

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flowerfreya · 7 months ago

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A lowlevel mafia man took my baby!

All fics masterlist

This is really just for fun lol. CW:Kidnapping Reader is in debt to a mafia boss (not Price) and when the low level mafia men come in with Price's baby , the reader makes a decision

“You took who?”, you exclaim.

“James Puck”, the dumbasses say. They look over at you like you’re the one being annoying. They are holding what looks to be a three year old boy, dressed in a mini-suit, like they just took him from church service. He is the calmest baby you have ever seen. He’s just looking around, observing everything, and soon he’s going to figure out that his father is not here. And he’s going to throw a fit.

“Why?” , you ask. Like who’s dumbass idea was this. Taking a mob boss's son in the middle of the day is not the smartest idea. At.all.

“What the boss wanted”, they shrug. God you hate it here.

You got dopped into being across this empire by accident and maybe by desperation. You really needed money,so you signed your life away. At least only for three years. You’ve been doing odd jobs at the house for the past two years, just cleaning up and picking up groceries. You haven’t been paid since you were because according to your “boss”, you’re paying off your debt, you know it’s bullshit but the way your credit was looking you wouldn’t have gotten a loan for the amount you needed.

The baby starts crying an hour later , dumb and dumbass look flustered. The are holding it like they don’t know what to do with him.

They look over to you, “you're a woman, you know what to do”, handing you the child, and then walking out.

You automatically feel that his diaper is wet and probably has been for a long time and he’s probably hungry too. Inside the kitchen , you look in the pantry to see if there is anything that he can eat , that hopefully won’t cause any allergic reaction if he has any.

“Here comes the airplane”, the spoon coming from up high and a brmmmmm making James giggle.

You’ve been trying to distract James for the past three hours and nothing is working. You’ve tried to hold in sitting on the couch, walking around with him, even giving him some warm milk. Nothing is working.

From upstairs you hear your boss yell, “shut him up!”.

You roll your eyes, “Oh, I’ll shut him up alright”. Then you come up with another idea. Maybe you could just return him.

Muttering to yourself as you try to sneak out of the compound is a bit of an issue. The kid won’t stop crying and it’s going to alert them if you can’t shut him up.

You're not really a mothering type. You're probably holding the baby wrong and the diaper is on backwards.

“What do I need to do for you to be quiet”, you say to the baby. Like it will talk to you when it cries in an answer, you nod to the baby, “I should have known that”.

You just start moving as quickly as possible thinking …maybe if you move fast enough people will think it's an animal crossing in the night.

Finally getting past the gate and getting on the main road , you start just walking along the road, hoping that the 141 gang is just driving around looking for the mob boss's baby. Hearing a car coming fast down the road and skrrrting next to you.

“Oi!!”, you look over and see a man with a skull mask holding a gun and of course it's pointed at you. You mean you're not surprised, since you're the one walking around with James Puck Price.

“Hi”, you lower yourself so you can see through the window and do a small wave, ”I think I have what your baby”, and then you lift up the baby, so he can see him.

“Get in the fucking car”, he growls at you.

“Yeah , of course”, you slide into the back of the car. Looking around, “Do you have a car seat or anything”, pointing to the child, “we do have a baby in here”.

Looking at you through the rearview mirror, “that is the least of your worries” ,he says.

#task force 141 #mafia!141 #captain John price #John price x reader #possible reader x simon ghost riley

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petertingle-yipyip · 8 months ago

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STRANGER - KAZ BREKKER

//tags: @beekeepingageissome // an: mixed book with show canon but they’re a bit older // next part

Pairing: kaz x davina rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 5,892

Summary: Her father’s action led to the death of her only two childhood friends, Kaz and Jordie Rietveld. Only Kaz returned as the infamous Dirtyhands. Creating her own gang in the shadows, she considers allying with the Bastard of the Barrel, only it goes about as well as anything could with Brekker.

It all seemed so far away, the first time you had met Kaz and his brother. Years ago that seemed to be another life. And maybe it was. You had left your father not long after that. When you heard that Jordie and Kaz - or at least two boys that fit their descriptions and matched your sketches - were picked up during the Queen Lady’s Plague collections, your stomach had pitched.

You were only a child, the same age as Kaz give or take a few months, and his brother seemed a good boy. They ate dinner with your family, played with you and your dog. You and Kaz had come up with games late into the night until Jordie took him home.

And then suddenly, you and your family were out of the house. You didn’t understand but you didn’t question it. You never saw the boys again but it was easy enough to hear of who had died of the sickness and who hadn’t. And it didn’t take long to find out how.

Your father used an alias and rolled the boys for their money. They had nowhere to go except the streets and it killed them.

Well, one of them.

Kaz had managed to pull through, but the boy that came back wasn’t the boy you knew. He had changed and you weren’t sure if you had expected him to be the same. When you left your father, you had seen him around the Barrel. You considered talking to him but the unbridled anger in his eyes kept you at bay. Instead, you decided to bide your time. Build your own empire. And in time, you would offer Kaz a deal and take down your father together.

Leaving Jordie and Kaz to die killed not only one of the Rietveld brothers, but it killed you as well. You existed only in stories to him. Pekka Rollins’ only daughter, fled home as a young teen, building up a gang of her own.

You changed your hair, colored it a midnight shade of red, and cut bangs. You kept the rest braided and pinned. You wore a hooded cloak when you went out during the day. You never spoke your name in public. But you did help yourself to your father’s money.

Your money, technically, since it was placed into an account in your name. You withdrew from it once a month, never letting the balance fall beneath the initial. It filled the coffer of your growing gang, choosing a snake as your branding. Your father had Dime Lions. Kaz had the Dregs. You had your snakes, though a fitting name never came to you.

You were on your way to attempt a meeting with the Dregs’ Heartrender, Nina Zenik. She held occupancy at the White Rose, and she was not an easy woman to schedule with. Nor was she cheap. You were leaving the bank, your latest withdrawal under your cloak, when you saw him.

You’d seen him in passing over the years, heard all the stories of what he’d become. Dirtyhands Kaz Brekker. The Bastard of the Barrel. Some said he was a demon. Some called him a monster, a wretched boy with only bones for fingers. He was Death, the Reaper who sent his Wraith without remorse.

You had to remind yourself to breath when a hand clasped your shoulder.

You spun quickly and a hand went to the small knife in the sheath sewn to the inside of the collar.

“Boss has been looking for you.” A familiar voice said. You didn’t know his name, but the voice was one from your childhood. You didn’t miss the lion tattooed on his forearm. “He’ll be happy to see who’s been taking his money.”

You narrowed your eyes but remained quiet. You yanked your knife free and sliced the forearm of the hand touching you, cutting right through the Lion. Decapitating it. You would’ve stayed and admired your handiwork had you not been on a mission.

So you ran.

You worked through the busy crowd until you somehow ended up at Kaz’s side.

“I need your help.” You stepped in front of him. You hadn’t even realized it was him until you stood face to face.

You couldn’t have picked anyone else?

“You’ve come to the wrong person.” He shook his head.

“It’s one of Pekka Rollins’ men.” You tried urgently. “They’re looking for his daughter.”

That got his attention but he tried not to show it. It flashed across his face for a split second, a momentary sliver of the young boy you knew.

“Isn’t she dead?” He said flatly, as if it was a fact. “I sure hope so.”

“She’s not.” You said sharply and dared a glanced behind him. Your father’s goon was making his way through the crowd a few feet away. “But I’m guessing you’ll kill her if you get the chance.”

“In front of her father, yes. Maybe slice her open from her sternum and watch her heart stop beating.” He nodded, tapping the beak of his crow against the base of your throat, then paused to study your face. Your heart sped up and under your cloak, the grip on your knife grew tighter in an effort to not bat his cane away. It was already stained with the blood of your pursuer, and you weren’t above adding Kaz’s if he recognized you, but you were praying that Sankta Alina would help you avoid it. Never one for religion, but her story had always stuck with you. “What do you know about her?”

You lifted your chin slightly. “Why should I tell you anything?”

He leaned down slightly and you reflexively stepped back. “You came to me, remember? Unless you’d like me to leave you here for your friend back there.”

You sneered slightly before answering. “She’s alive, in the Barrel. She’s been building her own gang, using her father’s money for it.”

Kaz’s head cocked in interest.

“He has an account open for her and puts money in every week. She empties it every month or so.”

“A fool’s errand.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leaves a paper trail, on both sides… Why is she still here?”

“Why do you think? She wants to get rid of her father.”

“Why?”

You checked again and the Dime Lion was closing in. You shifted on your feet and Kaz took a step to the side, turning himself slightly to block you from view. You dropped your head and blocked your face with your hand as the man passed, hoping the scene looked like a blushing girl hiding her embarrassment. You sighed with relief and almost thanked Kaz.

He didn’t do it for you. You’re useful to him now is all.

“How do you know this?” Kaz asked after watching the Dime Lion for a few more seconds.

You replaced your knife and unbuttoned your cloak to pull your collar and show the snake tattoo winding across your shoulder. You fixed your clothing back to position and Kaz studied you silently.

“I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Brekker.” You nodded.

He stood dumbfounded as you continued on. It took only a moment before the shock wore off. Kaz watched you go, his confusion burning to anger. He was mad that you had so much information yet gave so little. He was mad that you knew him, yet he knew nothing about you.

But what infuriated him most was that you were vaguely familiar. That he felt some old reminder of who he used to be, when he was just a boy with his brother. He also thought of Jordie with a shudder. He hated that you had some memory connected to his brother and he swore that he would get his answers, even if he had to cut them out of you.

When you were finally able to get in with Nina, it was a relief. She went into what seemed like a rehearsed spiel while you undid your cloak and draped it across your lap as you sat. You reached into your boot and pulled out the specific pile that was intended for her. You dropped it on the table and it silenced her.

“I didn’t come for the Heartrender, Ms. Zenik. I need the Dreg.” You began calmly.

“The Dregs?” She tugged her sleeve uncomfortably. “What is this, a test from Brekker?”

“Not at all. I just ask that you deliver a few things to Kaz.”

“A delivery?” She laughed. “Drop it in the Post like every other lovesick girl that thinks they can fix him and move on, Dear.”

“He has a fan club?” Your brow quirked. You knew it was a joke but you wouldn’t be surprised if there was some group of girls that were fawning over Kaz. He was very pretty after all. “This isn’t a declaration of love or a marriage proposal. More of a… heads-up.”

“If this is a threat-“ Her hand raised and quickly lifted your own in defeat.

“I’d rather try my luck against his Wraith than face you.” You admitted. “I’d like you to hear me out, Nina. Please, you can turn me away and keep the money after. I’m sure every cent helps towards your Fjerdan project.”

Hesitantly, she lowered her hand

You flipped your cloak and withdrew the small envelope from the main pocket. You held it out to her and waited until she opened it before you spoke.

“All I ask is that you get these to Brekker. He’ll know what they mean.” You said calmly, though your heart was racing. You wondered if she could tell.

“Drawings?” She looked up from the papers to you.

“She’s quite proud of those.” You smiled slightly.

It was a small collection of portrait sketches. A few of Kaz as a kid, one of Jordie and Kaz, and a few of Kaz in recent times.

“There should be something else.” You nodded and she shook the ring out of the envelope.

“Hmm, are you sure this isn’t a proposal?” She joked.

She examined it carefully, turning it at different angles and holding it close to her face. She slipped it on her own finger - it was so small, it barely fit her pinky - and your jaw tightened.

“Who is this she you mentioned?” She asked, looking back to you.

“He’ll know.”

“I could just keep this ring, you know. It’s quite adorable.”

“You could.” You agreed. “But that’s a risk she was aware of. Truthfully, I didn’t think you’d care much for a child’s keepsake ring. Besides, it was either you or the sharpshooter, and I’m sure Jesper Fahey would’ve found some parlor that’d give him a line of credit for it.”

“It’s Grisha made, isn’t it?”

You rubbed the fabric of your cloak between your fingers. That had cost you quite a pretty penny. “Yes.”

“Must be a very well off child.”

“She was.”

“Merchant’s daughter?”

“Not quite.”

She quickly grew tired of your avoidant answers. “So what happens if Kaz gets all this?”

“He can do what he wishes with the papers. Those are only a part of a collection that needs to be downsized regardless, but the ring is what’s important… She’ll come for it when she’s ready.”

“She plans on waltzing up to Kaz and demanding the ring?”

“No.” You smiled. “She’ll simply take it back, almost like a placeholder.”

“She’s mad if she thinks she can rob Kaz Brekker” Nina laughed, and you had to admit the sound was rather infectious. “But I’d love to see her try.”

“Can I trust you with this, Ms. Zenik?”

She mulled it over and had to tighten your hands into fists around the fabric of your cloak when you saw your ring was still on her finger. You knew you couldn’t take it back. Not only because it was part of your plan, but because she’d stop your heart as soon as you stood.

“I will, but only because I'd like to see how this’ll play out.” She nodded. “But what about the Wraith?”

You stood and fastened your cloak into place over your shoulders.

“He’ll send her for you and whoever sent these.” She warned.

“Trust. She expects as much.” You added over your shoulder as you left the room.

It took a few days but the unmistakable feeling of being watched from the shadows seized you as you were returning to your small dwelling. You ducked down a different alley, weaving your way through crowded passageways until you finally got to an empty, secluded area. Bold to lure the Wraith deeper into darkness, but you couldn’t risk anyone else hearing your words.

“I’m surprised he waited so long.” You said flatly and lowered your hood. To anyone else, you were talking to yourself. But soon after, her dark clad figure came from the shadows and you faced her bravely. “Hello, Wraith.”

She held up her hand and your ring tumbled out, tied around a string attached to her wrist. You stared at the small piece of jewelry for a moment and the chain around your neck you usually kept it on felt too light. You missed the light weight against your chest, the way it would bounce off your bones when you ran or trained.

“Ah.” You forced a smile. “I see Nina made good on our deal. I should thank her.”

“What business do you have with Kaz?” She finally spoke and her voice was level, void of any sort of emotional cue. You had to give it to Kaz. He trained his Dregs well.

“What business does he have with Pekka Rollins?” You countered. You knew it all, every minute detail, but you wondered what he had told her.

“Nina said that you work for someone else.” She changed the subject, wanting control of the interrogation. “An unnamed girl with Grisha connections.”

“Hmm.” You shrugged. “What did Brekker tell you when he sent you after me?”

“That you work for Pekka Rollins’ daughter.”

You tilted your head side to side in thought. “I suppose, in a way they’re both correct.” You conceded and flicked your cloak over your shoulder. You watched her hand fly to the knives at her ribs and you smiled innocently. You shifted your shirt collar and tilted your head away, waiting for her to see your tattoo. She squinted into the darkness but her hand slowly fell away. “I’d like to live long enough for the reunion, Inej.”

Her eyes went wide and she took a step back. You fixed your cloak over your shoulder and held out your empty palms.

“Yes, I know quite a bit about Brekker’s favorite Crows.” You said simply, keeping all malice out of your words. “Nina Zenik, the Heartrender at the White Rose with a Fjerdan friend out at Hellgate. Jesper Fahey, remarkable Zemeni sharpshooter with a tendency to wring out his coffers across the Barrel. You, Inej Ghafa, formerly Tante Heleen’s Lynx turned ghost story, utilizing those Suli acrobatics. Then there’s the Fjerdan himself that Brekker keeps tabs on, and the new one, the young demo expert.”

Wylan Van Eck - though he had an alias of his own - but you didn’t dare to say that. You wondered if Wylan would recognize you, but you had only seen him in passing years ago. You weren’t sure he knew that much about the Barrel in general. But given the fact that Kaz didn’t recognize you, you doubted Wylan would when you thought about it.

“How long have you been watching us?” She asked, squaring her shoulders and tucking the ring away. You were sad to see it go.

“Off and on.” You shrugged. “Truthfully, I just needed to establish a pattern before I could get that to him… He did get it, didn’t he?”

Her head cocked and you knew she heard something in your voice. Hope, or desperation maybe, and you cursed yourself for it.

“No.” She said smugly. “Nina delivered it to me.”

“Then I assume you have the same motives as she did, interest in what’s happening here.” You realized. “Tell me, Wraith. Has Kaz ordered my death yet, or am I still a target?”

“I believe the word he used was investment.”

“Investment… You know you won’t get anything from me. You’ll go and report back to Kaz with how much I know. If you two haven’t already, you’ll go over the ‘paper trail’ of her account and see it’s been tapped out, which’ll only serve as proof to what I’ve said so far. I’ll wander the Barrel, wasting nights at a gambling table while I bat my lashes to use someone else’s money or I’ll sample the menageries to pass the time. You or Brekker will get restless and pause your pursuit. And when none of you are looking, I’ll go back and you won’t see me again unless I want you to.”

You recognized a flash of silver and realized she drew a knife. You hadn’t even seen her hand move but you hid your shock by lifting your chin defiantly. You would not yield, not cower from Inej. You folded your hands in front of you, under your cloak so you could reach your pistol.

“I don’t want a fight, Inej.” You said honestly.

“I don’t intend there to be much of one.” She countered smoothly and the blade shifted in her hand. “I come as a warning. Keep her snakes away from us.” She said, adding extra venom into your gang’s patron.

“Us?” You instigated. “You bear no Dreg tattoo, Wraith. How can I be sure you’re truly aligned with them?”

“Doubt be again and find out.”

“We don’t want a war.” You reasoned.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You and your shadow boss will not back the Dregs into a corner. Brekker won’t he-“

“I don’t fear Kaz Brekker.” You said firmly.

“Then you’re more of a fool than he thinks.” She snapped. She glanced around as if someone was listening, but no one in Ketterdam dared to watch the confrontations in the alleys. “Pride will be your downfall before he makes a move.”

“He wants to dismantle everything Pekka Rollins has.” You reasoned. You weren’t why you wanted so badly to convince Inej that you weren’t Kaz’s enemy, but when you thought about it, you knew he’d see you that way regardless. You worked for Pekka Rollins’ daughter. Actually, you were Rollins’ daughter. You’d be dead the second he found out. “She wants her father’s empire to burn as well. Why fight?”

“Do not come to the Dregs again, snake.”

“Is that a threat?” Your brows raised.

She smiled and her hand was a blur as the knife flew at you. You barely hid behind your cloak in time. You felt the blunt force of the knife against your cheek, thanking the Saints, before the blade clattered to the floor. You peaked out and another came, skating across the back of your hand. You yelped and clutched the wound to your chest.

Before you could react, she was on you. She had you by your cloak and slammed you against the nearest wall. You felt the distinct tip of a blade under your chin and you were quick to pull your own. You pressed it against her abdomen, grabbing her other arm to keep her close. You ignored the burn of the cut and righted your grip.

“The thing with snakes-“ You began and smiled. “We can wait. Bide our time until conditions fit us. We won’t back the Dregs into a corner, but you won’t flush us out either.”

Her eyes darted between yours as she tried to read your expression. Or maybe she wanted to remember your features. Either way, you acted. You slammed your head forward and collided with hers. She stumbled back and her blade fell away. You flicked your cloak to add to her disorientation before you kicked at her chest to knock her down.

Then you ran.

It took a few more days before you saw either of them again. You had seen a Healer in that time, someone who wouldn’t give their name or let you look directly at them. Why they were in hiding you didn’t know or ask. They repaired your hand and that was all you needed.

You were wandering the streets when you saw her silhouette in the alley you passed. Moments later, she was on the rooftops above you, following. You dared a glance but as soon as your eyes turned that way, she disappeared. You knew she wanted you to follow so you sighed to yourself, checked that no one else was looking - of course they weren’t - and ducked down the alley.

You went as deep as you dared but there was no one else, only the faint tap of a cane behind you. You nodded slightly and put your hands up in surrender. You flipped down your hood and turned, facing Kaz straight on.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” You began innocently, though you added a bit of roughness to your voice. If Kaz was going to recognize you, you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

A soft thud of landing behind you but you kept your focus forward.

“Will you come quietly?” Kaz spoke simply, as if it was obvious you were beaten. You quirked a brow and considered how the fight would go if you chose it. One of them you could take, but winning against both of them wasn’t likely.

“You say that like there’s a choice.” You sighed. “I know when I’m out-gunned, Dirtyhands.”

You slipped your fingers under the opposite sleeve and slid the hidden retractable blade strapped to your wrist out. You tossed the cuff to Kaz and he caught it with the crow’s beak of his cane. While he examined the small device, you held your pistol to Inej, who took it without a word. You tapped the toe of one boot on the ground, then the other, and felt the blade shifting against your leg. Glancing up, Kaz didn’t seem to notice the movement but the gentle kick to shin told you Inej did. With a huff, you pulled it out and handed it over. All you were left with was the small blade at the sheath under your cloak’s collar, but you wouldn’t give that up.

Only an idiot gets taken hostage by the two most lethal Dregs unarmed.

“Nice to see you again, Wraith.” You said teasingly. “Although this isn’t much of a fair fight, is it?”

You put your hands up again and offered Kaz a sarcastic expression. He was stone faced as usual, though he nodded to Inej over your shoulder. Your brows furrowed and as you turned, the side of your head was slammed into the nearest wall.

You woke up tied to a chair in an office/bedroom with an empty chair across from you, Kaz’s cane resting against the seat. Your head was pounding and you could feel your pulse beating in the new wound, growing as the room came into better focus. Your cloak was thrown across the desk, your wrists tied tightly to the back of the chair with scratchy ropes, your ankles were tied a lot looser. You shifted in the chair to test the integrity and wondered how hard you’d have to fall for it to break.

“About time.” He complained from somewhere behind you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do your usual hostages regain consciousness sooner?” You spat back, craning your neck to find him. “Should’ve brought your Heartrender if you were that impatient.”

Kaz was making it very hard to try for an alliance with him. At that moment, you wanted to kick his pretty teeth in.

“You’re not worth that much trouble.” He waved you off and you saw the infamous black gloves.

“Enough trouble for you to come and get me. What made that decision for you? Was it when Inej couldn’t do it herself?”

“Are you certain she wanted to?”

“Could’ve fooled me, but according to her, I’m a fool anyways.” You shrugged as best you could. “What's with the gloves?”

His leather-clad hands tightened into fists and he looked down at them for a moment, contemplating. You wondered what was going through his head, but you’d never know. His expression was as blank as ever and you cursed his self-control.

“You didn't wear them before.” You continued. “When you were a boy.”

“You know quite a lot, Dear.” He said simply and made his way in front of you. He moved his cane and sat, stretching his legs in front of him.

“Been around a while.”

“Who are you?” He leaned in a bit in interest. You were something new, something potentially dangerous, and he wanted to learn everything he could about you.

“A stranger that knows so much about you, Kaz Rietveld.”

His eyes narrowed and shifted the cane between his hands. You eyed it carefully, knowing the dangers that object held especially in Kaz’s hands. It could break bones, numb limbs, slice through skin. You’d be lucky if he didn’t use it on you, but the daunting silhouette of the crow’s head didn’t stop you from talking.

“You and Jordie… Her drawings are the spitting ima-“

The sharp beak of his crow topper sliced down your cheekbone and cut your words short. Your head snapped to the side and you cried out slightly, fresh blood slowly dripping down your cheek. You stared back at him angrily, new and sudden rage burning in your stomach as he stood over you.

“You don’t get to say that name.” He said viciously. The rage in his eyes made you worry he’d kill you there. “What did she tell you?”

“You can beat me all you like.” You said firmly. “I won’t break.”

“Then you’ll die.”

He pulled a knife and you shifted in your seat, pushing back as far as you could. One of his covered hands landed on your shoulder while the other pressed the blade to your throat. Your eyes darted in a panic and you noticed the silver chain around his neck.

“The ring.” You breathed and the knife froze. “You have the ring. You know she’s out there.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He pulled the blade, causing you to wince, and you felt a thin stream of blood from your neck. He took up his cane with the other hand and tapped it against the floor, punctuating his words. “I do, however, doubt you’re as steadfast as you claim.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You shook your head. “I’ll die before I give up anything on my snakes. You think I don’t know what you do to people you don’t like? I’ve heard all the stories, Dirtyhands.” You laughed. “I wouldn’t risk their lives just to save myself.”

The cold crow’s head came under your chin and forced your attention to him.

“Your snakes?” His head cocked and your eyes went wide with panic for a moment. Leave it to Kaz to pick up on your one rhetoric mistake.

“I serve as her lieutenant. The snakes are as much mine as hers.” You covered, but he didn’t seem convinced as you jerked your head away. “Are the Dregs not as much yours as they are Haskell’s?”

“The Dregs follow me.” He said firmly, an air of leadership and confidence around him. If you didn’t have a gang already, you would’ve asked him to take you in as well. “This will go one of two ways. You answer my questions and you can burrow back into whatever hole you and Rollins’ pathetic daughter are hiding in with minimal injury.”

You spat at his feet. He swung the cane at your ribs. You wheezed as the air left one of your lungs.

“Or I can flay you piece by piece until you’re unrecognizable, covered in tears and your own blood, and I still get what I need.”

“You’ll get nothing from me.” You rasped and shook your head.

“Or…” He trailed off, wagging his finger as if a new idea came to him. “I can simply keep you here, wait until she finally shows herself and then drag her kicking and screaming to her father’s doorstep.”

“And do what?” You dared to ask, though you had a feeling you knew the answer. “He won’t care. He gave up on her years ago.”

“If that were true, he wouldn’t have an account for her.” Kaz shook his head. “Yes, I looked into it and, as I mentioned, the paper trail was easy enough to pick up. But I must admit, the trail to you was quite the dead-end. Well done.”

“He’ll laugh in your face if you bring her to him.” You continued, but the air you breathed left the faint taste of blood in your mouth. “She ran out on him. You think he’d want to see her again?”

“Oh, I think he’s still hoping she’ll come home.”

The wicked look in his eyes told you all you needed.

“To protect his secrets, maybe. She knows every trick he has.”

“Secrets die with those who keep them.” Kaz mused as if it was his saying. “And the only ones worth keeping aren’t worth a life.”

“Oh, Saints.” You complained with your head dropped against the back of the chair, eyes cast upward. “You know no one is going to come for me, don’t you?”

Silence. Just the threatening tap of his cane on the floor.

“Her and I agreed that if either of us get caught by you or her father, we wouldn’t go looking for the other. It’s a good way to get us both killed so we sacrifice the other if push comes to shove.” You looked back at him. “And you’ve shoved.”

“No one is coming?” He asked. The question seemed innocent enough but the menacing way he spun his knife in his hand proved otherwise.

“Our secret dies with the other.”

“Meaning no one will hear your screams? You’ll cry out and plead. but no one will come… I almost feel sorry for you.”

“Hang on.” You tried and he pressed the knife to your collarbone, a few inches to the side of your snake tattoo. “I-“

“Giving in already?” He taunted.

You needed something to get the knife off of you, something to distract him. He didn’t seem all that interested in anything about your alleged leader. Maybe he knew all he needed about you on that front. Was there something you could ask him instead?

“She feels guilty.” You confessed suddenly. “About you. About Jordie.”

You flinched at the look he gave you.

“I don’t know who he is!” You lied quickly.

You hated that all your control, all your pose and power, fell away while you were strapped to the chair. You were helpless, at the mercy of the Bastard of the Barrel, the most notorious and merciless person in Ketterdam. Maybe you were out of your league.

“I’ve only heard the name… She says her father took everything and she wishes there was something she could’ve done. She wants to make things right.”

“Make things right?” He asked lowly before a rough, disbelieving chuckles left his lips. “Can she suddenly raise the dead? No, you see, she was a child. Just as I was. But breaking her in front of her father, taking the one thing he yearns for, now that just might ‘make things right’.”

“What happened to you?” You said desperately. “What changed?”

“The boy that girl told you about is dead.” Kaz explained carefully, as if saying those words took more effort than anything he’d ever done. “Kaz Rietveld is dead.”

“She doesn’t believe that.”

“What’s that old saying? Like calls to like? Believing that makes her more of a fool than you are… Where is she?”

“She’s in the Barrel.” You confessed carefully. The knife hit the ground but before you could feel any relief. a heavy fist connected with your jaw. Blood filled your mouth and you knew you but your tongue, hard.

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” He said, his voice holding a dangerous edge.

“No.” You managed through gritted teeth. “What will you do, hunt her? You’ll never find her.”

“What makes you think you haven’t led us to her already?”

Your mind raced. Had he or Inej seen you go to your most recent safe house? It was possible that he had been trailing you longer than you thought, but if that was the case, he’d know that there was no girl in the shadows leading the snakes. It was you.

It was a bluff.

“So string her up instead of me.” You sneered and shifted your feet, just able to brace your toes against the floor. “I tried to be civilized here, Brekker. But you know what I’ve learned?”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re just a man. And all men can fall.”

His brows furrowed slightly and you threw yourself backwards. The chair hit the ground and broke with a loud crack. You got to your knees and were fiddling with the ropes that bound your wrists to the fragments of the chair when you had to drop to your back, the heavy crow’s head swinging past where you head would’ve been. You yelped and rolled to the side as it crashed into the floor in a high arc.

Finally, you freed your hands. However, the crow’s head landed against your same side again and the impact had you falling to your face. You coughed roughly and the ragged breathing and shooting pain had you fearing that your rib was broken.

With a whine, you climbed to a kneel.

Your eyes darted to your cloak before surveying for an escape route. You could go for the door but it was obvious and you knew the place would likely be crawling with Dregs. You weren’t getting out that way. Your only other option seemed to be the window.

You got to your feet and charged. You threw punches at Kaz, hardly any of them connecting. You growled slightly in annoyance at his ability to block your hits so you threw your elbow instead, smacking it to the side of his jaw. You followed it with a hard hook then a few body shots. You wanted to end it so you threw a hard kick for his head but he caught it.

He tilted his head in disappointment and you saw the blossoming red marks across his features. You watched his elbow lift, on a path to the side of your knee, and you reacted. You jumped and threw the other foot. It connected with his jaw and you both fell to the floor. You cried loudly and you landed on the rib.

You forced yourself up, ignored the dangerously threatening pain as you stood straight, and dashed for your cloak. Beneath it was the rest of your weaponry. You collected it in a hurry and climbed through the window.

“We’ll meet again, Kaz.” You warned, crouching in the windowsill. He had rolled to his back and you saw the cut your kick broke near his eyebrow. “Come for me before that, I’ll burn the Dregs to the ground.”

Then you were gone.

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kifkay · 8 months ago

Text

Codatorta and his kids

Codatorta & Riven:

Is particularly hard on Riven to get him to achieve “his potential”.

Does look after the younger man, though: makes sure he always has a place to go to once the school goes on break, invites him for dinner with Codatorta’s family on holidays, etc.

Riven is the only one who doesn’t know that he is Codatorta’s real favourite.

Codatorta & Nabu:

Doesn’t even try to hide how much better he thinks Nabu is compared to his students.

”You all should be more like Nabu” this, “I want Nabu to enrol in Red Fountain, please please please” that

Nabu calls Codatorta “daddy 🥺” jokingly and although the older man yells at him for it, he is the only one who doesn’t get beaten up for name-calling.

Codatorta & Helia:

A very respectful, caring relationship.

Although Codatorta at least tries to appear professional with the rest of the gang, he gives up all pretences with Helia.

C’mon, he has known the younger man since the latter was a kid in diapers. Seen him go through hardships, make mistakes and flourish in spite of them. How could he pretend to be anything but wholly on Helia’s side?

Protective of Helia like a little brother. In turn, Helia cares for Codatorta and looks up to him.

Codatorta & Timmy:

the bemused mentor & the over-achieving, comedically ill-timed mentee.

For a long time, Codatorta dismisses Timmy for one of the rich kids who are in it for the rank and the mantle, and treats him coolly.

Timmy desperately tries to prove himself — but because he is so edge around Codatorta, only makes the impression worse. Amy Santiago style.

Only when Timmy stops caring about Codatorta’s opinion and really comes into his own as a specialist — being his quietly bad-ass, confident self — only then does Codatorta start to respect him.

They don’t speak of the shift in their dynamic, but Codatorta begins to entrust Timmy with more challenging tasks and relies on his insight more.

Codatorta & Brandon:

The tired grump dad & the middle child.

Codatorta does actually like Brandon and thinks he makes for a very honourable specialist

But he hates hates hates Brandon’s clown-assery.

Most of their interactions are Brandon trying to be/being funny and Codatorta punishing him for it (and for the man’s ongoing headaches) with exercises.

Once in a blue moon, they do have sincere moments, where both learn a bit from each other.

Codatorta & Sky:

Some (Riven) might mistake Sky for Codatorta’s favourite, because the older man dedicates a lot of his personal time to teaching & advising the prince.

But this is mostly because Sky is one of the only princes, and heirs to a significant empires at that, under Codatorta’s care - and he wants his charge to become a decent man before he inherits the throne.

So Codatorta tries to make Sky wise, selfless, smart, a leader

But Sky is also stubborn as fuck and is responsible for half of Codatorta’s grey heirs alone — so heck no, he is not the favourite .

so to summarise:

all the interactions between Codatorta and the specialists are, of course, Platonic.

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d3lly1000 · 4 months ago

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SILVAZE FAMILY IS HERE!!!!! I've been thinking a lot about the concepts I wanted to explore with them and their lore and I'm finally satisfied with the result! Even though I'm not a big fan of Silvaze, I think the dynamics between them are interesting to work with. And for my AU, they're quite relevant!

Here are some fun facts about them in my Sonic Next Gen AU:

Blaze and Silver, the Empire of the Guardians.

- Silver and Blaze were together at the end of the Great Incident at the End of the World, a bigger problem that arose and began with Villains already known to them and Sonic's gang. - After Blaze became Queen of the Sun Empire, Blaze lost contact with Sonic and his friends. She could no longer return to their dimension, as she now understood the consequences her Trips there had within the Dimensions. - Her routine became more hectic than ever, although she always remained a responsible and organized Cat in her duties as Royalty. - Silver understood that Blaze was an important part of his life after all the past events, and so he made the Sacrifice of staying by her side in her Dimension. Leaving his future origin and his old team in it, who were now also in good hands and safe, in an emotional farewell. - Even though Silver decided to stay with Blaze, he remained responsible for being the Guardian of Time. Having possession of the Time Stones and ensuring that no one interferes in any event, be it past, present or future. - After time passed, as they were now married, ruling their own Empire and being guardians of powerful jewels with Blaze, Silver always wanted to start a family. But it was a distant thought, since pregnancy between different Species was risky for both the mother and the child. Blaze also didn't like the idea of being a mother very much, even though she knew that at some point, she would need someone to inherit her legacy as Queen coming from the same blood. - After some hesitation, Blaze makes the decision. She would also like to start a family with Silver, and is now more open to the idea. She mentions that he made many sacrifices for her and she was willing to do the same for him.

Chance and Cyrus, the Twins coming from the Sun.

- Chance and Cyrus are twins, born during sunset. Their names refer to Good Luck and Enlightenment. - Chance is worthy of inheriting and ruling the Sun Empire in the future, as she is the first to be born. - Although they were very close when they were younger, Cyrus feels that Chance should not inherit the Throne. Since she feels unprepared and often overestimated, this leads to the birth of a greater Envy. - Chance and Cyrus were conceived with their mother's Pyrokinetic powers. But not only these, they also inherited The Eternal Flames. Their mastery of these is equivalent to the total mastery of fire that will never go out, being lethal if it reaches its Peak. Their powers were dormant within them when they were still young, and neither of them knew about it… Until they became young Adults. - Cyrus can also teleport and create weapons through telekinetic powers. Chance has always been very reluctant about his powers over fire, having much more connection to the Flames than his brother. - Chance, despite being destined for the Throne, never felt confident about it. She talks countless times about her insecurity with her father, with the fear of disappointing everyone. Silver has always been one of her great voices to guide and calm her. While her mother, has always been the inspiration to keep doing the right thing and be determined during her journey. - Cyrus has always shown interest in the throne, but while he has not yet achieved it, he has trained to continue as the protector of Time, like his father. Although he was never able to actually go with him during his time away, he learned a lot from Silver about how time can be treacherous and affect countless events… Something he always reminds himself of.

Nova Del Sol, the Youngest Prince.

- Nova is the youngest child and also the most withdrawn of the other two siblings. Born during the night, this last pregnancy was the calmest Blaze has had, which was a positive surprise, knowing the great risks involved in having children of different species. - Unlike his two siblings, Nova never had any great connections with fire, he always had an irrational fear of large Flames. - He was always very interested in the stars and the waters. - Nova has the ability to create a Gravitational Field, despite being a child, he gained great mastery over his powers. As a baby, his abilities acted erratically and almost always as his feelings took over. - Blaze always comforts him by reading books and telling stories during his nightmares, something that happens quite often. - Silver always enjoyed playing with him, creating stories and helping him with his lessons. Although he is always surprised by his own son's reasoning ability. - There are times when Nova says, "I've seen this before," but in reality, he has brief visions of the future. He still hasn't figured out the purpose of this, perhaps it's to predict something worse coming in the future…

Extra Fun Fact: All 3 children end with "Del Sol" since they are children of mixed species. A concept I put into my Next Gen AU: Although they are not necessarily a mix of species, their names do not end with the animal they are. Which indicates that they are considered hybrid children! (The theory of Amy Rose being part Echidna is interesting to me too lol) Finally, I believe that's it! I've been planning to write and draw some scenes about them. Even though I've already shown a bit of Chance's old concept here, I feel like I ended up giving her a new vision, and besides… I ended up adapting what was already going to happen before >:) See here also my SonAmy kid: Skyler The Hedgehog! See here also my Shadow's kid: Aura The Porcupine! Thank you very much for reading, sorry for the English mistakes! <3

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saranghae2207 · 1 month ago

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𝘓𝘖𝘕𝘎 𝘙𝘖𝘈𝘋 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌, Din Djarin x reader

Chapter VIII: The Good, the Bad and the Tusken

Summary: After escaping the grasp of a menacing sex trafficker, Y/N accidentaly finds her way onto the Razor Crest

Masterlist

This series will follow the general storyline of The Mandalorian, starting between chapter 4 and 5. It is going to be a SLOW burn, that I can promise. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Descriptions of rape, sexual assault and forced sterilization, sex traficking, kidnapping, canon typical violence, FMC! able bodied! MC, other than that there are no further descriptions of readers apearance other than that she is pretty.

"Patu!"

"No, see? Pillow. Spell it out, pil-"

"Pa-"

"No, pil,"

"Patu!"

You drop your head in exasperation. You had been trying to teach the kid to speak for at least 60 rotations now, but the best you had gotten to was patu, which he now said for everything.

"Fine," you sigh, "Patu,"

"Patu patu!" the kid claps his hands together. You try to stay grumpy but come on. A smile breaks over your face as you throw the pillow aside and reach for the kid, tickling his little body as he giggles manically.

"Oh, you naughty little womprat, I can't teach you anything," you laugh, falling to the ground in a heap of giggles.

You then hear someone bang at the ramp and quickly get up to check who it is.

"Password?" you ask,

"Cheese," an exasperated voice sounds, which already gives away that it's Din, but you woke up choosing violence this morning,

"And?"

A deep sigh sounds from behind the ramp and you can't help but grin smugly.

"Y/n is better at cards,"

You open up the ramp, a grumpy Din enters.

"Did you get anything?" you ask,

"He says he knows of a Mandalorian on Tatooine-"

"No,"

"I found it strange too, but it's all we got."

"Not Tatooine, I hate Tatooine!" you huff, nearing him. Din picks up the child as it runs to him, proceeding up to the cockpit, you follow behind.

"Who would ever voluntarily go to Tatooine?" you groan as you plop into the passengers seat. Din ignores your complaining as he ticks in the coordinates.

"Mind turning on the engines?" he asks.

You grimace, reaching for the handles, flicking them up. The Razor Crest floats up into the sky, leaving the dark planet behind.

++++++++

Pelis workshop hasn't changed in the many rotations since you'd left.

Din walks down the ramp as the droids clammer around the ship,

"Sorry gang, come on." you hear Peli say, "You know he doesn't like droids!"

"May as well let them have at it. The Crest needs a good once-over." Din says,

"Oh, so he likes droids now," Peli throws her arms in the air, "well you heard him, give it a once-over."

The droids run back to the ship as Peli smiles at the three of you,

"I see you haven't found your stop yet," she grins at you before pulling her attention to the child in your arms, "Oh, thank the force! This little thing has had me worried sick." she reaches for the child which you hand to her.

The kid coos in her arms, "Looks like it remembers me," Peli smirks, "how much do you want for it? Just kidding. But not really. You know, if this thing ever divides or buds, I will gladly pay for the offspring."

You smile lightly, furrowing your brows a bit when you hear a small burst from the Crest, "Hey!" Peli yells at her droids, "Watch what you're doing up there. He barely trusts your kind!"

"I'm here on business, I need your help," Din says. He explains the situation to Peli, who doesn't seem too confident,

"Didn't the guy say something about a Mos Pelgo?" you ask. Peli blows out a breath, "Ooh, Mos Pelgo, haven't heard that name in a while."

"It's not on any of the maps," Din says,

"That's 'cause it was wiped out by bandits," says Peli, "Once the Empire fell it was a free-for-all. I didn't dare leave the city walls. Still don't."

"Can you tell us where it used to be?" Din asks,

"Depends who's asking. You wanna see it? R5!" she yells to a droid, "bring me the map of Tatooine."

After taking about half a century to actually make it to the four of you, the droid projects a map into the air. Peli points out the different spots, which are all clearly shown on the map. Only Mos Pelgo is not visible.

"I don't see anything," you say,

"Well it's there," Peli says, "Or at least it used to be. Not much to speak of, it's an old mining settlement."

"You still got those speeder bikes?" Din asks,

"Sure do," Peli smirks as she shows you to the speeders you had used to get to Fennec Shand.

++++++++

The suns are nearly setting and you'd been riding through sandy plains for a while when you stop by some tusken raiders. Din brings you to a halt as the raiders greet you.

You watch in lame interest as Din signs to them, he then turns to you,

"We'll stay with them for the night. We leave at first light tommorow,"

You didn't reply, simply raising your eyebrows and sighing as you got off the bike. The raiders were already collecting sticks and twigs for the fire, one of them taking out a dead creature of some sort. You picked up the child from where he sat in a little bag at the back of the speeder.

You could feel Din looking at you but ignored his gaze, wafting past him to go help with the fire.

++++++++

As you look up to the stars, you're reminded of that night, several rotations past at this point when you had layed against a rock beside Fennec and Toro, waiting for Din, then Mando, to return. You don't remember the stars being this bright or clear.

"Are you mad at me?"

The question came as a surprise to you. You stay quiet for a moment, eyes searching the starry sky before sliding to where you had thought Din was sleeping. You find the T visor looking back at you, clearly still awake.

"What?" you whisper, trying not to wake the child who was sleeping at your side.

"You've been... Distant lately."

You don't answer at first, looking away,

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean-"

"I really don't."

"See? That's what I mean. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong,"

There's a moment of silence, Din looks up, then back at you.

"Does it have something to do with the conversation yesterday?"

You bite your lip, still looking up, contemplating your next words. You just end up blurting out what you were thinking,

"I'm not saying we're like... supposed to be soul bonded or anything, I know you- you don't easily trust people, I get that. But.. I don't know, we've known each other I don't know how many rotations-"

"213."

You stop to look at him, "Shit, really?"

"And a half."

You look at him, brows furrowed, "What, you keeping a calender?"

"Why are you angry?"

"I'm not angry, it's just that...And I get it, your distant, but I figured we'd kinda come to a more trusting place-"

"I already told you I trust you,"

"Do you?" you pause, "'Cause, I don't know, I don't feel like you do."

"I do,"

"What's that wall?"

A moment of silence,

"What wall?"

"You know what I mean,"

Another bout of silence,

"It's not-" Din sighs, looking away. You stare at him a moment longer before turning as well, blowing out a raspberry. You then roll to your side, giving up on the conversation,

"Goodnight Mando,"

"Y/n-"

"Goodnight, Mando"

You knew using 'Mando' was a low blow, petty really. But you didn't care, you didn't look back, even when you heard his sigh through the modulator,

"Goodnight, burc'ya,"

Friend.

He had started calling you it shortly after you had left Nevarro. Burc'ya. It was the first word you'd learned in Mando'a and you had been flattered when he had first explained it. It felt like you had finally arrived to some place. What place exactly, you don't know, but it was a place. It had filled you with such happiness. Everything felt like it would be different after Nevarro. The wall finally felt more translucent than solid.

After cycles of being alone, of feeling like you were a metal scrap floating in the endless void of space -unwanted, unneeded- for the first time you actually felt like you belonged. You thought it would only get better, but it just stayed like that. A kind of static, unmoving.

You tried to ignore it, to give it time. You tried to not care about it, not care about the fear of being left behind, left alone. Of being unneeded, uncared. You tried to convince yourself that you didn't care that Din still seemed to keep distance between you two. That you didn't care that he didn't care. That you didn't feel that twinge everytime you saw him and the kid together and remembered what the female Mandalorian had said. A clan of two. You didn't care that you didn't fit in there. You didn't even care if Din decided one rotation that you weren't needed anymore, that you could go off on your own. That he didn't need you, that the kid didn't need you. That he didn't really care enough to be bothered with what happened to you.

You angrily flick away a tear, shoving your eyes shut. It was all stupid.

Stupid.

++++++++

You were already wide awake when Din shook you in the morning. You hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night. Simply waiting for the suns to rise so you could finally do something, instead of buzzing through your thoughts of self pity.

The two of you got onto your speeders, thanking the tusken raiders before zooming off. You'd been riding for a while, and the suns were high when you came across a settlement that you assumed was Mos Pelgo.

It was small, just a few typical Tatooinian style houses scattered about. The people there stared on as you two slowly entered.

You stopped near an empty bar, following behind Din as he entered. A Klatoonian was drying a glass behind the counter, his movements slowing as you entered.

"Can I help you?" the Klatoonian asks,

"I'm looking for a Mandalorian," Din says,

"Well we don't get many visitors in these parts. Can you describe him?"

"Someone who looks like me."

"Mmm," the Klatoonian observes Din, "you mean the Marshal,"

"Your Marshal wears Mandalorian armour?"

"See for yourself," the Klatoonian turns to look at the entrance, where a -presumably- Mandalorian stands. He's not as big or bulky as Din, but he does wear the same T visor helmet and beat up beskar armour.

"What brings you here stranger?" the Mandalorian asks, slowly entering the bar,

"I've been searching for you for many parsecs."

"Well, now you've found me. Weequay, three snorts of spotchka."

The Klatoonian takes out a bottle filled with some neon blue coloured liquid along with three glasses.

"Why don't you join me for a drink?" the other Mandalorian says.

He goes to sit down and you're about to follow when you see him take off the helmet. This causes both you and Din to still, the air suddenly tense.

The man looks to the two of you with a smile, "I've never met a real Mandalorian."

Din doesn't say anything, but you can feel his body tensing more with each passing second. The man huffs,

"Heard stories, though. I know you're good at killing. And probably none too happy to see me wearing this hardware." he pours the drink into cups.

"I figured only one of us walking outta here, but then I see the little guy," he points to the kid, who is preoccupied with a large ceramic bowl, "And," he now looks at you, whistling, "a beauty like that," he grins as you fight back a squirm, "Not often you see such a pearl." he sips from his drink.

"Who are you?" Din's voice is cold,

"Cobb Vanth, Marshal of Mos Pelgo," he raises his glass to you in greeting.

"Where did you get the armour?" Din asks, seemingly getting more irritated.

"Bought it off some jawas,"

"Hand it over."

Cobb Vanth smirks, putting down his cup, "Look pal, I'm sure you call the shots where you're from, but 'round here I'm the one tells folks what to do."

Din isn't swayed, he takes a step toward Vanth, "Take it off. Or I will."

Cobb Vanth clicks before saying, "We gonna do this in front o' the kid?"

"He's seen worse."

Vanth nods, "Right here then?"

"Right here."

"Right here?" you interject

Vanth smirks at you, "You can look away if it gets too much for ya darlin'. Or don't," with this he sends you a wink before getting up.

You can't tell exactly what's causing the deathly violence now oozing off of Din, but the tension is palpable as the two stare at one another.

But they never quite get to it, because there's a sudden rumbling, like an earthquake. You go to pick up the child, who whines.

Cobb Vanth holds up a warning finger before moving to the entrance. You and Din follow him outside where you see a growing mound in the distance. A siren is going off, people sprinting into houses, animals stirring, the wind picks up.

The lump beneath the sand enters the town letting out squeels of a beast that you can only partially see. Your eyes follow it as it rolls to the other side of town, nearing a bantha that's munching on some slop.

The beast bursts through the ground, a loud moan echoing through the sandy plains as it swallows the bantha whole and dives back into the ground.

Cobb sighs, "Maybe we can work something out." and starts walking through the town where people are slowly exiting their homes to recover the damage.

"That creature's been terrorizing these parts since long before Mos Pelgo was established."

"Doesn't seem like the best place to stick a town then," you say. Cobb Vanth looks behind at you with a smirk,

"I suppose so. But anyway, thanks to this armour, I've been able to protect this town from bandits and sand people. They look to me to protect them. But a krayt dragon is too much for me to take on alone." he sighs looking about at the people before moving his gaze back to Din, "Help me kill it, I'll give you the armour."

Dins contemplation is merely a nicetie, "Deal, I'll ride back to the ship, blow it out the sand from the sky, use the bantha as bait."

Vanth shakes his head "Not so simple. The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations, stays underground. But I know where it lives."

"How far?"

"Not far."

++++++++

You hadn't been riding for long when Cobb Vanth threw up a fist to signal a stop. You where in an area surrounded by dense rocks. The three of you got off, carefully pointing blasters to where you could now heared a low moaning.

A type of dog, but scarier, peaks past a rock, opening up its wide mouth in a sort of roar. You shiver at the sight of sharp teeth that could easily rip at your skin like bovine hide. More of its kind appear behind the rocks and you can hear Cobb preparing to shoot. Din -however- seems to loosen up a bit.

The beasts continue snarling when Din lets out a guttural sort of cry which echoes off of the rocks and seems to calm the creatures. You would laugh at the ridiculousness of the sound if it weren't for the tense situation.

You see Din start to approach the creatures as Cobb Vanth asks, "What're you doing?"

Din simply holds up a hand, moving closer. At this point you've completely loosened up. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Din handle a situation like this, it made you wonder what he had experienced in all those years alone.

The creature is bordering on puppy behaviour as Din gently rubs it. You've put away your blaster, holding back an eyeroll at how seamlessly he handles these kinds of situations.

It's then that two tusken raiders appear from behind the rocks. You aren't worried, as Cobb Vanth seems to be, and go over to the child to check if he's alright. You hear Din grunting out the signs to communicate with them, and now -with your back turned- you do roll your eyes. Where this sudden annoyance with everything he does has come from, you can't pinpoint. Must have something to do with the talk you had yesterday, and the day before.

"Hey partner, you wanna tell me what's going on?" Vanth asks with a huff that you recognise very well.

"They want to kill the krayt dragon too,"

++++++++

You once again find yourself by the flames of the tusken settlement. You stare into them with a matching burn as Din speaks to the raiders. You hear the child babble and follow his line of sight to one of the dog creatures, staring at you both as it spools out a tongue and licks have its face clean. You huff as you reach out a hand to pet it, your fingers coming back slightly wet.

You grimace down at it when one of the raiders hands you a coconut looking cup containing a sort of disgusting smelling substance. You take it, cautiously sniffing it before taking a sip. You have to hold down a gag as you squeek out,

"Thanks,"

The tusken seems pleased as it hands another to Cobb Vanth,

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he leans in asking you,

"You drink it," taking another sip, this time the gag is apparent,

"It stinks," Cobb scowls,

"Yeah, no shit," you snide, sending him a glare as you try to chug the rest of it down,

"I'm not doing that,"

"Do you want their help?"

"Not if I have to drink this,"

The tusken besides you mimes his hands in a frustrated manner,

"Don't be such a wuss," you chide him, "You're insulting them by not drinking it."

"He says they know how about Mos Pelgo, they know how many sand people you've killed." Din interjects which makes you unexpectedly irritated.

"They raided our village," Vanth huffs, "I defended the town,"

"Lower your voice," you hiss

"I knew this was a bad idea,"

"You're agitating them,"

The tusken stands up, Vanth matching its stance,

"These monsters can't be reasoned with. Sit back down before I put a hole in ya-"

You flinch away as Din raises his arm past your face, blowing flames between them. Once the flames stop, he signs to them,

"What are you telling them?" Cobb asks,

"Same thing I'm telling you. If we fight amongst ourselves the monster will kill us all."

The others go to sit back down, you tilt your head back in exasperation as Din slowly signs,

"Now, how do we kill it?"

You scheme amongst yourselves for a while, finally landing on the decision to return to its lair tommorow, lure it out with a bantha to get a better idea of it and then go on from there.

It was well into the evening when you all went to sleep. The child cuddling into you as you held on to him. You noticed him sending a glance to Din, who was lying down a couple feet away from you. The child then looks at you questioningly and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at how cold you had been towards Din. But after thinking it over, you decided not to bother making ammends for the time being, you now had to focus on the giant monster living just beneath the sand.

++++++++

You watch the tusken and bantha as they neared the mouth of the large cave where the dragon apparently resided.

The tusken makes a calling noise that echoes over the walls of the cave. A deep rumbling comes from within it, causing the tusken to start sprinting back towards you. It trips over sand, continuing to move forward when you see the giant head of the kayt dagon sliding out from the sand and chomping down on the tusken,

"Holy fuck," you bite out as the other tuskens beside you start to howl in shock. The dragon retreats into it's cave.

"Think we're gonna need a really good plan." Cobb mutters.

++++++++

You return a day later, some of the towns folk having joined in. The tension between raiders and towns people was palpable but this was the only way the plan would succeed.

Another tusken stands before the opening, a bit more cautious considering what happened last time. It stands there a moment before signing something.

"What'd he say?" asks Vanth,

"He says it's sleeping," Din answers, not taking his eye off of the cave, "if we listen carefully we can hear it breathing."

You get to work setting up the trap, tuskens and villagers help setting up pillars and lines. A villager hands you charges as you bury them beneath the sand. The tuskens had said the belly was its only weak spot, so you would have to hit it from bellow.

Once all is set up, you sit beside one of the spires that will be shot to hold the dragon in place. You see three tuskens nearing the cave, ready to wake it. You send a quick look back at where Din and Cobb Vanth are standing before turning back to the cave.

The three tuskens set down their weapons before cupping two hands over their mouths, their cries piercing through the tenuous air.

A moment later you hear the dragon croan and see the sand bubbling up. The tuskens sprint away as the dragons head pierces through the ground.

The tusken standing beside you signals with its hand, you pull on a lever which sends the first spear flying into the dragons head. Many follow, seemingly scaring it off as it starts retreating again.

"Shit," you mutter,

Villagers and tuskens start berating it with explosives and shots, you point your blaster to it, hoping the attacks will anger it enough to at least pull it out again.

This seems to work as the dragon once again reaches out. You walk back, continuing tto fire at it.

The dragon rises its head up and you fight a gasp as you just now take in its full size. The villagers and tuskens keep retreating, you follow them, not taking your eyes off the beast before you.

The next moment a huge roar fills the area as the dragon throws up a kind of greenish substance, slathering some tuskens and villagers. A splash hits your arm and you hiss at the burn it causes. Then you hear a huge explosion go off, knocking you and several others to the ground.

The dragon dives back into the sand, dissappearing temporarily as you help the others up. A moment of silence passes, every second raising your suspisions even more.

They are quenched when a huge sound comes from above a rock, the dragon piercing through its side.

"This is fucking ridiculous," you mutter as it sprays another bout of green substance towards the people.

You hear Vanth and Din fly off but don't pay them much mind. Focusing on getting the others back to safety, you clammer the villagers away.

You notice one of the villagers that were hit, their skin starting to peel of much like yours.

"Ok, how many were hit?" you yell into the crowd that was currently focused on the fight happening above the large rock.

"Ignore them, is anyone else injured?"

A woman comes up to you, holding out a fleshy arm. You get right to work, checking for poison -a sigh of relief when the test comes back as negative- spraying it with disinfectant and wrapping it up with gauze.

"Hey!" you look up to see a man holding up a case that looks a lot like an old medpack, "I'm the local nurse, let me help,"

You sigh a thanks as he sits beside you, opening up the case and taking on another villager.

With two, you manage to help a lot more people, it seems no one was critically hurt. You can hear the action going on behind you, fighting the urge to look back, concentrating on helping the injured.

You hear a thunk beside you and send it a glance,

"What in farriks name is he planning!" Vanth grunts out,

"What bullshit is he getting up to now?" you ask,

"I don't know, he just took the bantha and allowed himself to get swallowed whole!"

This does cause you do look back at the dragon who has apparently munched down on Din. A pulse of panic drives through you before your reason reaches your brain,

"He knows what he's doing,"

"Ya sure?"

You furrow your brows before nodding confidently, "Yeah,"

A rumbling starts up before the dragon reappears, spitting out a flying Din who seems to press a sort of button. The next moment it explodes, knocking to the ground as Din slides off.

You would roll your eyes, but instead you can't help a grin,

"See?" you look at Vanth, "Told ya."

You set the last patient on their way and run over to Din, "You're insane, here," you hold out a rag to him, "Salivas toxic, you could get burned."

You look at the rag and then up at him when he doesn't reach for it. You shake it a bit,

"Well? Do I have to do it?"

"Is the kid okay?"

"Are you okay?"

A pause,

"Yes, he's fine,"

"You're hurt," he states, which reminds you of the now blistering wound on your arm.

"Yeah, that's why I'm giving you this," again you hold out the rag,

"Let me help,"

"It's fine," you shove the rag into his chest and turn around,

"That was really cool, by the way," you yell back at him before returning to the child.

You pat him on the head as you reach for your medpack, pulling out some gauze before haphazardly wrapping it around your arm. It would be better if you would disinfect it first, it would be better if you'd let Din help you. But you ignored this, setting the bandage as you collected your stuff and the child, who coos at you in worry,

"It's alright, little guy,"

You go over to the speeder where Din is already standing, talking to Cobb Vanth. He's holding on to the Mandalorian armour, a big piece of krayt meat on the back.

"I hope our paths cross again." Vanth says, shaking his hand,

"As do I," Din says,

"I hope to see you two around as well," he says, looking off to you and the kid, sending you another wink as you smile at him.

"We should get going," Din mutters to you, you nod as you place the child in one of the side bags to the speeder. You give him a last stroke on the head before the two of you zoom off.

Next chapter

Taglist:

@enfppuff

@orcasoul

@bookloverkat

#din djarin x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #grogu #the mandalorian x you #din djarin fanfiction

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pinyeti · 11 months ago

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EPISODE 6: RETURN OF THE JEDI

Is it just me or have they just not explained the Death Star properly?

I cant take Darthy seriously anymore, he’s just a bag of organs

Whats quirrel doing here

OMG ELEPHANT SNAKE IS BACK

Isnt this that old caterpillar from Alice n wonfderlad

WOW LUKE REALLY SUITED UP FOR HIS MESSAGE- DID HE JUST SELL???? GOLDENFACE AN R2-oh right Hans in the carbon - way to go to the dark side Luke, triangular droid trade YOU ARE YOUR FATHERS SON LUKE

So much of Star Wars is just running into the problem with a glowstick and hoping it dies

Wow hansolo has been imprisoned, thrown into garbage, tortured, thrown into carbon, imprisoned AGAIN all cuz he has can’t shut my mouth disease

What even is their relationship with Luke btw, are they his adopted fWOAH WOAH WOAH WHEN DID LUKE TURN INTO A MAN??? Last I saw he was a child who couldn’t get a plane out of a lake AND THEY LEFT THE LAST MOVIE WITH ALL OF THTEM BEING TOGETHER wow the text in the beginning is more important than I thought

No seriously why is Luke dressed like a pastor whats going on

WOAH GOLD BIKINI LIEA - OKAY STORY TIME I USED TO WATCH PRINCESS RAP BATTLES AS A CHILD AND THE ONE I SAW WITH LEIA IN IT SHE SAID “I wore a gold bikini and the whole world lost its shit” ANF NOW I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Ok yoda we get it you’re 900 no ones talking about your wrinkles anyway with pastor Luke in the room, projecting much?

Is yoda suidicdal???

WDYM LUKE IS REaDY???? HE DIDNT DO ANYTHING TO BE READY EXCEPT FLY FACEFIRST INTO A MILITARY BASE HIS TRAINING ARC IS SO SHIT

Whos the other Skywalker?? lukes not even a Skywalker isnt his name Luke vader where’s skywalkers real son OH darthy’s deadname is skywalker

BABY WONKENOBIII IS BACKCKCKC-OMGWHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WDYM LEIAS LUKES SISTER WDYM HE SUSPECTED THIS AFTER MAKING OUT WITH HER FIFTY BILLION TIMES??? WHAT THE HELL

??? HELLO>>??? WHAT TH EHELL??? WHAT IN THE GAME OF THRONES IS GOING ON??????? How is Leia a princess then?? HahahahaHAHAHA SO YODA KNEW …… ABOUT THEIR LITTLE TRIANGLE

Nice the gang is back together, waiting for chewbakka to be revealed as darthy’s next offspring

YES YES GOLDENFACE GETTING THE RESPECT HE DESEREVEVVES I LOVE GOLDENFACEEE

I cant believe these are the idiots the emperors trying to kill

"yes I could sense you were my brother when my tongue was down your throat"

Oh yes Luke hands himself over- haha darthy sensitive over dead name

Luke youre so stupid- but since jedis cant die is he gonna go to wherever yoda and obi wan is

Lando is growing on me, also squid guy

This movie is gonna end with emperor and Luke dead isnt it

Is the emperor a jedi too how else does he have power or something something Sith

Id make a horrible jedi- im made of hatred

Hansolo my pathetic little idiot

I JUST REALIZED WHO LUKE EP6 REMINDS ME OF - TROY BOLTON

IS HE BEGGING DARTHY TO KILL HIM WTF

You’re telling me this big of an empire cant take down 6 idiots lead by a happy go lucky guy, never heard of this before

OHMYGOSSDDHD. LYKE YOU IDIOT NOW HE KNOWS ABOUT LEIA

Hahahah a hand for a HAND- wait what…. Why does he have a robo hand too whats going on

Luke stop acting like you didnt hear about jedis 5 secs ago

Aw does darthy have a heart among his organs

OHMYGOD DARTHY IS A GOOD GUY????? ????? What A VILLAIN TTURNS GOOD ITS BEEN AGES SINCE I SAW A VILLAIN COME OVER TO THE GOOD SIDE

OMG DARHTY FACE REVEAL

Oh damn hes not as ugly as I thought he’d be

Kinda cute even - bro how did he even get this weak why’s he dying rn

He has such kind eyes

Yeah ok I am so lost I NEED DARTH VADER BACKSTORY RIGH FUCKIN NOW

Is the empire this easy to penetrate? No but they did it with the power of lOVE and FRIENDSHIP

Love lando

YES HAN THATS THE REACTION I HAD AN HOUR AGO ACTUALLY WTF

Yes Luke its so sad your daddy that blew up an entire planet in ONE second without a single thought died IM NOT FORGIVING HIM THIS EASY

No way thats it??? They took down the empire just like that???? What??

Damn no one in this world can dance

OHMYGOD ANAKIN???? HOW CAN HE SEE THEM NOW??? IS IT CUZ HES BETTER AT WEILDING THE FORCE

ok fine anakin is cute

(3/9)

#star wars #luke skywalker #cp2077 #han solo #princess leia #r2d2 #c3po #darth vader #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars review

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fanaticsnail · 4 months ago

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Hey Snail, I was curious. Who's your favorite OP character? I always assumed it was Law and I'm not exactly sure why?? Hope you're feeling ok today! :)

I'm not stressed about this question at all. Nuh uh. Who me? No way. There are so many ways I can answer this and I'm just screaming.

The short answer:

Rosinante Corazon / Heat are tied for an equal first. (There are more, but these two stuck out this morning)

The long, lord of the rings extended edition unstoppable marathon answer:

I love the complexities of Law as a character, which is primarily why I made my original character a Heart Pirate. He's just a little shit, and watching Dressrosa, and even in Sabaody when I first met him as a character, he just seems like the right amount of serious mixed with fun that I love. Law is a Wednesday Adams to Tobiuo's Pugsley or Enid - just friends that would die for one another. He needed her, I think. Their friendship is weapon (Tobiuo) x wielder (Law) and she is more loyal to him than he probably knows. This is likely why you assumed he was my favourite, which he is up there and I love writing for him. The heart pirates too. I should write for Jean Bart one day - love that man.

Then there are the Kid Pirates. I love these guys. A crew of over thirty, surviving in a lawless upbringing, their undying loyalty to their feral captain, the really cool devil fruit power - and there's Heat. There is no explanation for his powers other than he has them. It's not a devil fruit, it's just something he can do. Sullen and sunken features, scarred lips, the fact he is a little kinder than the majority of them - and that he was a rival gang leader who chose to serve Kid to help him raise retribution for his beloved Victoria. I love the rapport, the ship design, the silliness between them and the other two Supanovas - they just make me really happy.

And then there's the tall, undercover marine, spy, double agent, silent, lanky, painted, clown-man in a burgundy hat. Between Rosinante and Doflamingo, it's hard to choose who I love more. I adore Doflamingo as an enemy. His rich past and complex history makes me all heart-clenched because I see so much pain in such a small person. Everything was ripped away from him, so he clawed tooth and nail to get back what he believed was rightfully taken.

But Rosinante had the same past. He could've gone with Doflamingo back then, but he didn't. He could've chosen a life of cruelty to get back on the people who wronged him, but he didn't. He could've chosen to live out a simple life as a civilian fisherman if he wanted, but he didn't. He became a marine, hellbent on ensuring his brother didn't get too out of hand and to take down criminal empires from the inside. And Law changed so much for him. In Doflamingo, he saw death. In a poor, sickly child on the same path as his brother - he saw a second chance to refute the repetition of history. I love him as a character, and he is just gorgeous.

Hoboy, wasn't that a long answer.

I could've gone longer and longer, but I decided to stop myself. These are all just my opinions and personal analysis of the characters. I love them all - but these are ethe two that roll in my head like two stones in the bottom of a sock.

I love this question, thank you so much, Merry. I adore you 🖤🖤🖤. And I am doing wonderfully - just chipping away rather slowly at fics lately due to the season of gift giving being upon us. That, and the chicks are yet to hatch and I'm getting all giddy at baby chickens at Christmas.

#ask snail #snail answers #goingmerryfics

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raointean · 25 days ago

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Guys, guys, guys! Imagine, Organa family EPIC: The Musical AU

An "everybody lives AU" of course. Brought to you by: I listened to the Ithaca Saga while thinking about the Organas

First of all, to kick things off, someone reports Leia as force sensitive when she's about 10 or 11

They don't know if Bail or Breha are aware, but they know the kid is creepy intuitive and that's more than enough for the Empire to investigate

Luckily, the Organas catch wind of it before the empire actually arrives

They get their stories straight, and then Bail takes Leia and runs

The Empire (inquisitor in tow) rolls up to find the Alderaanian royal household in a panic

Breha tells them all about how her horrid, terrible husband revealed himself as a rebel sympathizer and kidnapped her precious daughter!

(Bail and Breha invented this story years ago in case of this exact situation)

Cue the balancing act of revealing to the tabloids that Bail and Breha are going through some kind of messy divorce without revealing that Leia’s in the center of it

Breha tells the Empire that she doesn't want a full scale, free for all manhunt for her daughter because that would advertise that she's vulnerable and easy to kidnap/ransom

She demands that they investigate quietly with heavy involvement from her own people

Just like that, Bail and Leia disappear

Bail takes Leia to a rebel base and she joins the rebellion (although she's not allowed to run missions until she's 14)

A lot happens over the years

Bail and Leia steal a bunch of ships from a one-eyed imperial commander

They keep one and call it Aeolus

As they're on their way back to base, however, the hyperdrive breaks down

They land on an imperial planet to get it fixed, and Vader (who was there for unrelated reasons) catches a whiff of "force-sensitive child" and decides to investigate

Leia senses him coming and warns her father

Bail hauls ass to fix the ship and gets it done just in time to avoid Vader, but not before Vader sees and recognizes Bail

Vader immediately puts together that Bail knows Leia is force sensitive, but not the she's Padmé's daughter

Bail, on the other hand, assumes the worst: that Anakin knows that Leia's his daughter and that he wants to take her away, either to kill her or turn her into his evil Sith protégé

(Skipping Circe and Underworld Sagas, because I can't figure out how to work them in)

Bail and Leia hide out in a sketchy smugglers port

A group notices them (or rather, notices a little girl with only one person looking out for her) and tries to get Bail to join them for a job

Bail sees how they look at Leia, but humors them for a little while, not letting Leia out of arms reach for even a moment

He gets them talking about all the jobs they've done and pays special attention to how they've escaped from the empire

He notices that no one has ever failed shaking the empire if they go through the Kessel Cluster and resolves to do just that

He tries to extract themselves from the crew, but the crew doesn't take lightly to losing out on easy prey

There's a firefight where Bail kills the whole crew

(It's the first time Leia starts to think that her father may not be the paragon of morality she always thought he was)

Not wanting even more trouble, Bail drags Leia away from the scene of the fight and they head for Kessel

(None too soon, because not even an hour later, a gang of inquisitors arrives to investigate)

Bail is able to successfully navigate INTO Kessel, but getting out is a different story

They crash land on an inhabited planet in the cluster and their ship is entirely useless

Naturally, Bail tries to steal another

He is caught and both he and Leia (who is guilty by association) are sentenced to a year in prison

When they are released, they get on board a rebel ship passing through and so rejoin the rebellion

(Mon Mothma was FREAKING OUT that whole year. Bail and Leia just... vanished. She got very close to breaking the "no outside contact" rule to inform Breha that they were probably dead)

Not long after they return to the rebellion, the Death Star plans are discovered

(Alderaan is never destroyed because Bail isn't ON Alderaan, and I think that was at least 50% of the reason Tarkin targeted it in the first place)

Leia is still captured leaving Scarif and Obi-Wan is still sent for

A New Hope goes mostly the same, except for the destruction of Alderaan and Bail being more obviously involved in the rebellion

After the first Death Star is destroyed, Bail and Leia return to Alderaan in the hopes of reclaiming their planet

What they find is a palace flooded with moffs, governors, and other imperial riff-raff all battling for the approval of the queen

Most of them have designs to marry her and gain the more secure position of "King of Alderaan" (despite the fact that marrying the queen does not, actually, make you king)

For the past 10 years, Breha has been playing them against each other to protect her people and to distract them from the rebels

But there's a lot of them, and they're persistent, and (except for a few loyal handmaids) Breha is all alone

Finally, hearing of the recent rebel victory, Breha decides to trust to fate and sets a challenge

She sets up twelve targets, each one smaller than the last, one behind the other

She then gives them a bow, a bowstring, and a quiver of arrows

Now, this challenge is extra tricky in the Star Wars universe, because NO ONE KNOWS WHAT A BOW IS!!!

The suitors spend two days wildly scouring the holo-net before they eventually figure out it's some kind of ancient projectile weapon

Then, they have to figure out how to string it

At first, they're terrified of breaking the bow, but they quickly realize that none of them are actually physically strong enough to even bend it

By this time, Bail has arrived

He sees the suitors and the challenge and IMMEDIATELY knows what's going on

Dressed in inconspicuous clothing, Bail slips through the crowd of suitors frantically holo-netting "how to soften ancient alderaanian projectile weapon"

Now, few offworlders know it, but the bow is actually the ancestral weapon of house Prestor

Bows are entirely obsolete in the age of space warfare, ion cannons, and blasters, but every member of house Prestor is still taught to wield one for tradition's sake

Breha knew that

Despite being damn near 70 years old, Bail is still strong enough to bend and string the bow without issue

Despite not having so much as laid eyes on the weapon in a decade, Bail still shoots with perfect aim

Despite the inattention of the suitors, the room falls silent as the bowstring twangs

They immediately recognize him as the queen's wayward husband and a fugitive of the Empire, so they try to arrest him

It does not go well

Bail still has the bow and several arrows, so he burns through those before switching to his blasters

Meanwhile, the Alderaanian royal guard, of which several are present, don't stop him

They don't even lift a finger

Within 20 minutes, all 108 imperial suitors are dead

It's only then that the guards move, and that's just to start dragging bodies outside

Bail radios Leia (who snuck in earlier to guard her mother and the handmaids in case something went wrong) to let her know the threat is dealt with and he's coming up

He comes into the family area of the palace, blood-flecked, smelling of blaster smoke, and still half expecting a fight

And then he sees her

*cue "Would You Fall In Love With Me Again"*

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