#I'm sure all of these pockets are filled with surprise weapons

[cryptile]

Yaaaaaaaawn motherfucker

[purple-obsidian]

miscommunication (18+, dick grayson x titan reader) wc 2.7-3.1k

⭓ this post contains suggestive themes and is not suitable for minors. reader uses she/her pronouns.

"Shit." You curse under your breath when you see your last two messages failed to send. There's just no signal down here. You sigh, and pocket your phone, mind wandering and trying to predict what mission Dick is taking you on tomorrow night. He usually tells you when its time for full stealth, so you decide you'll show up in civilian clothes. He wants to meet earlier in the evening anyways, so you guess it may be something undercover or staking someone out. You let your mind wander for a bit, before returning your focus to work, watching two men in overalls argue in front of the buildings water heater.

The next day, Dick shows up to your apartment right on time. He pulls up in his electric blue sportscar, sticking out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. You can't help but grin when you see his car through your living room window. Checking yourself out in your bathroom mirror one last time, you make sure your concealed weapons and headpiece aren't visible, before grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet from your backpack. A sudden knock on the door to your apartment causes your eyebrow raises in suspicion, and you slip your shoes on before answering.

"Dick?" You greet the blue-eyed man standing in your doorway, surprised to see a bouquet of gorgeous white roses in his hands. His hair is styled neatly, and he's clean-shaven, too.

"Hey." He flashes you an excited smile taking in your outfit. "You look great." He comments, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he looks you up and down, taking in your casual attire.

"Thanks… You didn't have to come up here and get me, though. I was on my way down. Am I under-dressed?" You ask him, noting the button-up shirt and freshly pressed pants he's wearing.

"No, not at all." He extends his arm, presenting you with the roses. "These are for you."

"Oh." Your eyes narrow in confusion, glancing between the roses and his expectant grin. "Thanks… I'm assuming I'll need these later?"

Dick clears his throat and tugs at the collar of his shirt. "Well… I mean… need is a strong word," he replies, chuckling awkwardly, "But you can leave them here, if you like. To enjoy when we get back."

Him saying 'when we get back' makes you think there must be some follow up or additional work to do after you complete your objective.

You grin, and take the flowers from him. "So, does that mean we're pulling an all-nighter?" You turn your back to him and walk towards your kitchen to get a vase for the roses. You just miss the bright pink flush that creeps into Dicks cheeks.

"Uhm… I mean, I didn't want to assume anything, here, but if that's where the evening takes us…” He scratches the back of his neck, and follows to join you in your small but tidy kitchen.

He finds you at your sink, filling a tall jar with water. "Yeah, I got nothing going on tomorrow. We can go all night if we need. I've been in the mood for some action, anyways." You explain casually.

His face grows even more red, suddenly feeling very warm in the shirt he chose to wear. "L-let's just get through dinner first."

---------------//---------------

Your eyes scan the fancy restaurant, taking in the scene, noting all the exits, eyeing the people occupying the tables around you. There's a quiet hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses that fills your ears. You don't notice anything out of the ordinary, but you stay diligent, slightly annoyed that Dick hasn't told you why you're here yet.

A couple to the left of us. Man and woman. Mid-thirties, wedding bands, the woman is on her phone, barely paying attention to her date. We have another couple on our right, two men, could be 50's or 60's, hard to tell. Nice watches. Ordered the salmon…

Dick pokes at his pasta with his fork, a small frown on his lips. He's been acting weird since you got here. But he didn't give you any briefing, which makes you think he must be waiting for someone. He said you would enjoy what he had planned, maybe taking down an old enemy of yours? You wrack your brain, trying to remember the last villain who wronged you.

Dick says your name, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Hm? Yeah?" You ask, looking up at him blankly.

"Are you okay? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

The waiter passes by your table, refilling your wine glasses with a polite nod.

"Thanks." You tell him with a brief smile. Your attention returns to Dick, who's blue eyes are trained on your own. "I'm fine, Dick. Honestly? I'm just a little confused about what we're trying to accomplish here. What's our objective?"

"The objective," he sighs, and takes a sip of his wine. "The objective is to enjoy ourselves. Spend quality time together."

You barely hear the words he's saying, thinking instead of how he's already on his second glass of wine. He isn't even fake sipping, like you are. This isn't like him. Dick never drinks while he works, unless he's undercover. But even then he will limit himself, never wanting a mission to go bad because he was inebriated.

"Uh, Dick? Shouldn't we cap if off at one?" You ask, nodding to the glass in his hand. "We need you sharp, don't we?"

His eye's widen a little as he sets his glass down. You find it hard to place the emotions playing across his face. He almost looks offended.

"Sharp… right." He sighs, grabbing his napkin and wiping his mouth, shaking his head a little in disbelief. "You know what? You're something else. I really wanted this to be a chance for us to get better acquainted outside of work. I wanted to get to know you better." He waves down the waiter again, signaling that he's ready for the check. "But it's clear to me now why you even agreed to this."

Now it's your turn to go wide-eyed. "Outside of work? Dick, what are you-"

"I honestly thought you were different. I thought we had chemistry. Real chemistry. Maybe I was wrong. Seems like you're only interested in making sure I can perform later, is that it? An all nighter? You can't even humor me, and enjoy a nice meal together first? You've barely said a word, and you haven't even touched your food."

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

Dumb. You are so fucking dumb. This isn't work, this is a date. A real date. No wonder he's dressed so nice. He brought you flowers. Fuck, how could I be so dense?!

"I… Dick, when you texted me yesterday, I thought-"

"Save it." He grumbles, rubbing his temples and avoiding eye contact. "Let’s just get this food to go and forget this ever happened."

You sit up straighter in your seat, and reach across the small table for his hand. "Please, let me explain?"

He looks down at your hand, then narrows his eyes at you. "You're going to tell me I'm wrong?" He challenges.

You aren't used to this. His glare sends chills down your spine. You don't often find yourself at the receiving end of Dick Grayson's anger, but its unsettling every time.

"Y-yes. You're wrong." You curse yourself for stuttering, but your heart is racing now, nervous about how badly this miscommunication could affect your relationship. Your eyes plead with his while your hand rummages around for your phone in your jacket pocket. "I think I misunderstood your texts. Just let me pull them up real quick."

The waiter returns too soon, check in hand. Dick waste's no time laying down a few crisp bills before angrily standing up. "No need. You thought this was just a hookup. I get it. Never mind about getting it to-go. Why don't you stay here, enjoy the rest of your meal alone." He throws down another large bill, slamming it down with his fist right in front of you. "You can take a cab home."

"No! Dick, please!" You stand from your chair, cloth napkin falling to the floor, watching him stalk past you towards the exit of the restaurant, anxiety filling your stomach with dread.

► let him leave.

► follow him.

don’t steal my work. don’t repost it somewhere, upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

[heesuits]

cry baby - lee heeseung ♡

paring: co-worker!heeseung x reader

genre: soft

! the song lyrics are mentioned at some point.

wc: 3k+

.

Closed your notebook and stretched your spine... Just finished studying for today, your fingers feel stiff from all the writing, maybe they could even get cramps later. You've been having some online classes at night from different subjects to complement your degree and just got really immersed in it for a couple hours now. You lay your head back at the chair and look at the side glancing at your phone, completely forget about its existence, stretch out your hand to grab it... 10:02 p.m, some notifications and three unread messages:

[8:47 p.m.] heesu: hey wyd :)

[9:12 p.m.] heesu: are you there?

[9:46 p.m.] heesu: there's just something I wanna talk to you about, don't want to bother okay? nothing urgent don't worry, text me back when you can...

Heeseung is a friend from work, you've been working at the same shift for about 3 months now and he kind of makes your days easier with his periodic jokes. Even though he is a shy person overall, you found it funny how it looks like people are always looking for him, trying to find a thing to talk about and make the hours go faster, but you don't judge them, he's definitely a good listener and the big shiny eyes make it easier to know that he's truly paying attention to the issue. But when it comes to the introvert chart you're a full #1 and he's around a #2, cause he often comes to you with some random vent about his life, his meals, his gaming, his love affairs, and you usually just listen carefully and show interest in his matters, rarely opening up about anything, but you can swear he's too good with conversations and still get some facts from you sometimes...

He even caught you crying from stress once, you were hiding at the staircase and he just sat by your side and stayed there for a while not really saying anything but take your time, once you looked done from the crying session you two just got up and went back to work and later that day he brought some chocolate, giving it to you like some sort of secret weapon, claiming that it would help. It surely did. And you've never talked about it but you could feel like since then you've definitely become friends somehow, the atmosphere between the two of you have changed, he always notices when you are having a bad day and keeps looking for alternative ways to help you go through it, and you know when he's just tired of being the listener and needs to open up.

You didn't know what the messages could be about, it's monday, you were working together hours ago and had no other choice than to meet again tomorrow... "I was kind of busy when you texted earlier, here now, what's the issue?" You replied, locked the phone and put it in your pocket. Headed to the kitchen to fill in the water bottle, you were feeling kinda hungry so just got an apple to eat when you felt the phone vibrate, someone is calling, you read the name on the screen: heesu... that fast? Can't help but wonder if there was something happening and just picked up...

"Heeseung? Hello?" he never called before, ever...

"Hi... First of all you're a really bad emergency contact..." he didn't have a worrying tone at least, just the usual.

"And what's the emergency you're needing to contact me about?"

"None actually... did you still not unpacked your bag after work yet?"

"Umm, no... nothing to get off of it today, why?" just too curious at that point.

"I left something there, was wondering why you still didn't say anything about it... go check and then you talk to me okay?"

"I'm not working from home don't even try."

"It's not about that I swear, it's a surprise, cmon go see it."

"Okay mystery man, I'll follow your instructions."

"Bye."

As soon as he hangs up you almost run upstairs to check on the bag, leaving the water bottle and forgetting about the apple... What could it be? A present? A gift card to get some coffee? A prank? Heeseung often handles you pieces of paper during the shift, some just written [I'm bored x.x] sometimes complimenting your different hairstyles [nice buns :D], [cool bangs u.u], [fluffy ponytail ;D], thought it could be one of those and he just made it dramatic to be fun. You found it, now almost sure about the random piece of paper theory: An envelope, locked with an emoji sticker that I gave him some weeks ago cause you recorded yourself unboxing some stationary in your close friends and he said that he liked it. You sat on bed and opened it... Chocolate! And a... handwritten letter? Your face is confused, you tilt your head to the side and go straight into reading:

—

Hello there :D (I've never written a letter)

Is my handwriting readable? Hope so...

Where to start from?... I think I worry a lot... I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you. When it comes to you I think I talk too much and try too hard, I want to listen more. When we talk throughout the day there's this feeling of "I know I'll fall in love with you, and that's not what I wanna do" I can taste my heart breaking from the thought of you saying that you know it... but those are just my anxious thoughts and at least I should be honest and give you the opportunity to know about my feelings and decide about yours by yourself. Every single new thing I learn about you makes me hope that there's some more time to know much more, to fall some more. I swear I wanted so hard to shake my fears away and open up to you about this in person, but as my voice fails courage I hope my writings at least let you feel my honest intentions... Oh, right, the point of the letter...

Would you give me permission to know more about you, and fall even harder? I promise I won't be your cry baby.

[ ] yes

[ ] no

From: Lee Heeseung

—

You get up and grab a pencil to mark your choice, get your phone to take a photo and send it to him without any text or context...

[ ✗ ] yes

[ ] no

—♡.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

thistle, part one

a/n: I'm posting the next part in a few days, so you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next ♡

summary: “A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

warnings: James Potter x reader, royal au, prince!James, servant!reader (lady's maid), forbidden romance, secret relationship, historical au (beginning of the 1920s), references to WW1, surely extremely historically inaccurate but this is just for fun, lovesick!James, weapons, grief, death, smut, kissing, attending a ball, dancing, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cockwarming, oral

word count: 6148

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

series masterlist - next part

Marching up to the bespectacled man exiting the stables, his clothes all ruffled and dirtied from the ride he’d presumably just taken on this drizzly day, “excuse me, sir?” he slowed his trek at the sound of your soft voice, turning his head to look at you in surprise, “do you know the way to the servant's entrance? I seem to be a bit lost.”

“Um, yeah,” he blinked a second, taken aback by your question as he gave you a quick once over, “it’s just down that path,” he pointed towards the east side of the castle, “green door, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, tightening your grip on your suitcase and began to move in that direction. 

“Are you new here?” he asked swiftly, halting your movements. 

“Kinda,” you said, “I’m the queen mother’s new lady’s maid.”

“Oh,” a genuine smile bloomed on his face, “I didn’t know grand-, I mean, her majesty Delilah was coming for a visit.” 

“Well, I’d imagine you as, I presume, a groundskeeper,” you guessed, squinting your eyes at the helpful stranger in front of you, “isn’t exactly first on the list of people who need to be notified of such things.” 

Choking out a small chuckle, neither confirming nor denying your guess, he simply glanced down at his muddy boots, “yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Looking back over your shoulder at the large castle looming over you, “I’m sorry, but I should really get going. Her majesty likes to freshen up quite a bit after a long trip such as this.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he exhaled, clearly not ready to part ways yet, “you go take care of that, I’ll see you around.”

“See you!” you shouted over your shoulder as you made your way towards the discreet green door. 

“That’s pretty,” a smoky voice from out of nowhere made you jump and promptly stop your soft humming, dropping the small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked but a moment ago. Turning to see who else could be out here in the forest, you spotted the helpful figure from the day before, leaning against a tree.

“Jesus! You gave me a fright!” a hand came up to clutch your chest. 

“Sorry,” he smiled, shifting the bent hunting rifle that rested over his burly forearm. 

“It’s fine, no harm done,” you exhaled slowly, “just need to make my heartbeat understand that as well…”

Watching as you momentarily bent down to pick the dropped flowers off the forest floor, “you out on a walk I presume?” he pushed off the tree and stepped closer.

“Yeah, well,” you rose back up, “the weather finally cleared up, so I thought a bit of fresh air might do me well,” you said, gliding one of your cold hands down into your coat pockets, “plus I’ve heard so much about the grounds here, I wanted to see them for myself.” 

“They are quite something, aren’t they?” he smiled warmly down at you. 

Feeling heat begin to rise in your cheeks from his unwavering glare, you coughed lightly and glanced down at the humble bouquet clutched in your grasp, “and, um, you’re-”

“Hunting,” he filled in before you could manage to finish your guess.

“Oh, am I getting in your way?” worry filled your voice, imagining that bullets could start flying over your head as soon as a bird flew by, “is it safe for me to be out here? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware-”

“Nah, you’re good,” he waved a reassuring hand, “I split up from the others a while ago and then when I heard you, I wandered even further away from the rest.”

“You followed me?” he noticed your eyes flicker down towards the weapon he was carrying. 

“I-, oh god,” he winced, scrunching his expression up in regret and bowing his head, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I am a stranger to you with a deadly firearm, not a harmless bunny rabbit,” you could literally see the imaginary whip he was punishing himself with, “I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll just go-”

“No!” flew out your lips before you had a chance to think, “It’s fine, you can stay if you want.” 

Gazing into your eyes a moment, he then exhaled, “thank you, miss.” 

“Y/l/n,” you told him, “my name is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n,” the corners of his lips curled up as he tasted your name on his tongue. 

“And your name?”

“James,” he said, then stressed, “just James.”

James�� like the youngest of the two princes? You shouldn’t act too surprised; it was a common enough name after all. 

“Can I ask you something?” he spoke as you wordlessly agreed to go for a stroll together among the birch trees.  

“Sure.”

“How long have you been the queen mother’s lady’s maid? It’s just, I remember her previous one, the one she had before the war, and I feel like I would have noticed when you came along.”

“It’s been about 6 months now…” you answered rather sombrely. 

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

“No,” you glanced in his direction to underline your statement, “I love the job, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-,” you choked on the bitter fact and opted to say, “it’s complicated.”

“Is it too complicated for a man like me to comprehend?” he offered with a gentle smile. 

Letting a low sigh flow out, you spoke, “that previous one you remember?” he nodded in confirmation, “that was my mom.” You tried to ignore how your bottom lip began to quiver, “she had me out of wedlock and later in her life, so not many people knew about me. But her majesty Delilah did. She’d always been very fond of my mother, so she let me grow up there at Cudworth palace. She-,” you let out a shaky breath, still finding it difficult to vocalize, “she became ill a few years back, so her majesty made the decision to let me inherit the position. Made sure I was set up for a good life, I guess… My mother trained me for as long as she could till I was nothing short of flawless. It’s been 6 months… 6 months with the job and 6 months without her…”

“Yes, I think the sapphires will do quite nicely for tonight,” Delilah purred as her weathered fingers brushed over the jewellery spread out in a presentational fashion on the vanity she sat at. 

Wrapping a silver lock around your finger, you carefully pinned the last piece in place, securing her intricate updo. Glancing at the finished product in the reflection, you then agreed, “sapphire it is,” plucking the precious stones off the doily-clad table and gently adorning her earlobes with them. 

“Beautiful work, dear,” Delilah gave your hand a small pat as you secured the last earring, momentarily catching your eye in the mirror. 

The dragon lady. That’s what people called her. Though, through all of your life, the intimidating queen mother had been nothing but kind to you. It was clear that she had a soft spot for you, though you’d never dare to confirm that suspicion.

“Thank you, madam,” a soft smile quickly warmed up your features as you checked her hair one last time, “I hear the prime minister will be attending dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, I guess I couldn’t avoid him forever. Hopefully, they won’t seat him beside me this time, it was so awfully boring last time, kept on talking about cricket.” 

“Could always be sneaky and pretend that you can’t hear him,” you suggested with a sly grin. 

“Wouldn’t that be something,” her crow's feet framed eyes glinted with a youthful mischievous glow. 

Your shared giggle was interrupted as the door to her champers creaked open. Turning to look, you saw none than your helpful stranger.

“Grandma,” James simply sauntered in as if he owned the place, “I was wondering if you could-,” both his words and his brisk pace fell short as he spotted you, “oh, hi,” your presents promptly brought a fluttering smile to his lips. 

Just as you were about to speak up, your eyes wide enough to burst at his audacity, Delilah bellowed, “good lord, James, it’s been enough time, you really must shred that army brashness and start entering a room the way you were raised to. This is not a war room, it’s the castle’s peacock suite!”

“Right,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes never staying on his grandmother for long before flickering back to you, “sorry granny.”

Why was the groundskeeper referring to the queen mother his grandmother? It couldn’t be because-

“Y/n,” Delilah turned in her comfortable chair, “I don’t think you’ve been acquainted. This is my dear James,” she presented with an outstretched arm, “the youngest of my two grandsons.”

Swiftly averting your flabbergasted gaze, you curtsied timidly and gasped, “your highness,” your terrified eyes darting across the Persian rug. 

You’d only gotten to know the prince’s likeness through old paintings of him as a child. The battle-scared man standing before you now looked nothing like the bespeckled young royal captured in the portrait you’d passed countless times before. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you miss,” he smiled warmly, bowing his head slightly at you in return. 

“Now,” Delilah reached for her cane and slowly pushed herself up to her feet, “what was it you needed?” 

“Yeah, um,” he thought for a second, seeming awfully distracted, “it was-… I’m sorry, I completely forgot what it was.”

“Well, maybe you’ll recall during dinner, my boy,” she slowly moved towards the door, “shall we go down?”

“You go ahead,” James gesticulated, “I just need Y/n to send a message down to the kitchen for me. We wouldn’t want them to hold back on the wine now that prime minister Ferrell is joining us.”

“Oh, bless you,” Delilah grinned before disappearing out of the room, “that’s why you’re my favourite.” 

Closing the heavy door behind the former monarch, James gently grabbed you by the elbow and guided you further into the room. Preparing yourself for the worst, you immediately promised, “I’ll go relay the message at once,” your head still bowed, not daring to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t really have to, I already sent word down an hour ago. I simply said that to get a moment alone with you,” he lowered himself in an effort to catch your cautious gaze, “Y/n,” breathing out your name as if it weighed a ton, “would you please look at me?”

Only momentarily flickering your eyes up to meet his, you blurted out, “forgive me, your majesty, I swear I didn’t know,” your heartbeat was so strong you could hear it pounding in your ears, “I would have never spoken to you in that manner if I knew who you were!”

“Please do not apologise,” goosebumps bloomed on your skin as you felt his fingers briefly caress your arm, “I was so grateful that you didn’t just stiffen up like everyone else, you talked to me like any other man. So, for that, I thank you and beg you to please not change it now that you know.”

“What? I-I couldn’t do that! It isn’t proper, it isn’t right!”

“Why not? You did it before.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a prince before.”

“A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

“Your majesty, I couldn’t.”

“Why not, Y/n? It’s just my name, it’s not gonna bite you, didn’t before and I promise it won’t start doing it now.”

“Thomas,” king Fleamont glanced up from his papers to address his eldest son, “we’ve invited a few eligible ladies for tonight. Please actually talk to them this time, don’t just sulk in the corner with your brother.”

“Christ,” James' brother groaned, “papa, I thought this ball was just a little get-together now that granny is in town. Must I truly have to be paraded around every chance there is?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to find a wife, yes,” his father said sternly, then returned his attention to the crisp newspaper.

Grumbling, Thomas slumped back, huffing beside his brother on the tufted couch, “let’s hope they at least push their tits up to the heavens above,” he muttered under his breath for only James’ ears to receive, “that might make it tolerable.”

Chuckling at his sibling’s pout, James then suggested, “since this is for grandmama, why don’t we extend the invitation to Y/n?”

Furrowing her brow over the small fluffy dog in her lap, Euphemia questioned her son’s bold idea, “who’s that?”

“Granny’s lady’s maid,” his words awoke a severe expression to all but one of his family member’s faces. 

“Why that’s a wonderful idea, James!” Delilah cheered, “she does indeed deserve a bit of fun.”

Leaning in closer, Thomas hissed in his brother’s ear, “have you gone quite mad? A servant at a ball? Look at a calendar, brother, it isn’t December yet.”

“She isn’t that bad,” James defended, a storm quickly brewing in his chest, “plus, you know, granny’s not that young anymore, it might be a great help for her to be there as support. Just as a precaution.” 

“But I have nothing to wear!” you protested, “I didn’t bring a gown, let alone own one.”

“I know you don’t,” Delilah said calmly, not taking any of your blubbering to heart, “that’s why I had a few maids go through an old trunk of mine that I never brought with me to Cudworth,” she snapped her finger at the butler in the corner as he swiftly presented the dusty box he was balancing, “you are gonna wear this,” the top slipped off and you caught sight of the most stunning lavender beaded gown you’d ever beheld in your entire life. 

“Your Highness,” you marvelled at the way it sparkled in the low light, “I can’t wear that.”

“I know it’s not the latest fashion, but it’ll do a lot better than that frock you’ve got on now. I only remember wearing it once at a ball back in 1861.”

“I-…” you tried to protest, though nothing came out. 

“Y/n, this is not a proposition, you are gonna wear that gown and that is final.”

“God, this soiree is even more ghastly than the last one,” Thomas glanced back over at the cluster of young women fanning themselves and batting their luscious eyelashes at the eligible heir, “you think people would notice if we sneaked off?”

Ever thankful that he didn’t receive the same level of unyielding attention, James cocked his brow at the man half-heartedly attempting to hide behind him, “I don’t think that’s an option, brother,” then snatched up two tall flutes of stary bubbles and handed one off, “here, have another glass of champagne.”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna need a lot more in order to survive the 12 dances I've been swindled into later tonight,” he pouted and took a large gulp. Just then, as the crown prince swallowed down the stinging carbonated beverage, he caught sight of the figure that appeared at the top of the wide staircase. “Wait,” he elbowed his brother, ushering him to glance in that direction, “who’s that?”

Recognising you immediately as you timidly ascended the grand steps, clutching onto the side of your lilac dress, lifting it off the tile so as to not have to trip over it, James uttered through his growing smile, “that’s Y/n,” and nothing whatsoever could stop his unwavering gaze.  

“Really?” he scoffed, “that’s the scullery maid?”

“That’s her…” James replied dreamily. 

“I gotta admit, in that dress, you could almost mistake her for a real princess.”

“Yeah…” James uttered softly, not hearing a word of what he had just agreed with. “Hold this, will you?” without looking, he handed his glass off to his brother and left his post as the crown prince's unofficial shield. 

“James!” Thomas hissed, standing there in alarm, one glass in each hand, not sure if he should follow or not, “where are you going? Don’t leave me alone! I’ll be swallowed whole!”

Catching sight of James’ determined approach, you let out a deep and shaky exhale. 

“Y/n!” he smiled, coming to a jovial stop right in front of you, ignoring every merry man trying to catch his high-regarded attention. 

“Your highness-” you started, but his voice cut in, breaking your greeting in half. 

“James,” he corrected you, the glint in his eye promptly sending a shiver down your corseted spine.

“Good evening.”

“I hope it’s not too forward of me for saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you blushed over his honeyed words, “thank you, your highness. Though I wouldn’t dare take any of the credit, this was all your grandmother’s doing. This is actually one of her old dresses,” you glanced down at the elegant gown, carefully playing with the skirt and presenting it. 

Looking over the fabric just as you did, his earnest words nearly didn’t catch your ears, “I wasn’t complimenting your dress…”

Blinking up into his warm eyes, you found yourself speechless, clueless of how to respond to such flattery by someone of his stature. 

“Would you care for a dance?” he asked unexpectedly, evidently not caring about the improper nature of the request, and looking at you as if you were the only person in the entire ballroom. 

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty, but I’m afraid I would just embarrass you,” you averted your gaze, “you see, I don’t know how.”

Briefly glancing back at his parents, checking to see if they were watching, James then grabbed your hand, it seeming so small and dainty in his, and uttered, “come with me,” discreetly guiding you out into one of the vacant side chambers. 

Following his lead, looking back over your shoulder in fear that someone might notice, it calmed you ever so slightly to see that everyone else was entirely enraptured by the dazzling event. 

Shutting the door behind you, his hand still holding yours, he gently turned you around to face him once more. Hearing the string quartet still loud and clear through the walls, the prince smiled, “so, miss Y/l/n,” asking you once more, now in a more private setting, “may I have the honour of this dance?”

Lifting the back of your hand up to give it a small peck, eye contact never wavering, you answered, “the honour would be mine,” blinking up at him through your lashes, “yes, yes you may.”

“Okay, so you just put your left hand right here,” he grabbed it and slid it up, past the many shiny medals adorning his chest, to rest upon his broad shoulder, “and keep the right one where it is,” you inhaled sharply as you felt his free palm slide into place on your waist.

“A-alright,” all the hairs on your body stood up at the intimate proximity, “and now?”

Your right hand entirely engulfed in his, he glided his thumb over it, delicately swiping over a few of your fingers, “now you just let me lead,” noticing how your jaw clenched, he reassured you, “don’t worry, love, it’s easy,” you felt your tense muscles begin to relax a bit at his deep soothing tone, “I’ll do all the hard work, you just trust me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a small nod as he gently began to move, taking you with him as he fell into the song’s rhythm as if it was second nature to him. 

Simply swaying softly at first, it didn’t take long before he had you flowing to the music, slowly making your way deeper into the room, dancing further away from the lines of light the closed door cast. 

When you eventually felt him gain more confidence and move your body around freely, you followed the instinctual reflex to briefly glance down at your shoes. Feeling his hand let go of your waist momentarily, he whispered, “don't look at your feet,” and lifted your chin up so you could meet his gaze, “look right here.” 

Letting his finger drop back down into place, you felt his palm move and slide around to your lower back, drawing you in just a little bit closer. Feeling yourself disappear into the warm eyes veiled behind his spectacles, completely enraptured by his being and entranced by the way he moved you, you felt his hitched breath hit your skin as he leaned in close enough for your lips to graze against each other. 

But just as your eyelids fluttered close in anticipation of his eventual touch, the sound of the door, now a good ways away, creaking open halted your dance at once. 

“James?” you heard the crown prince call out, music now more vibrant as it didn’t have to travel through walls anymore to reach your ears, “you in here?”

Acting quickly, James pulled you around the corner and settled you into the little alcove there, pushing you up against the plate mail stature decorating the small corner and cloaking your figure with his own. His bulky frame swallowed nearly all of the starry light streaming in from the tall windows scattered around the chamber, causing you to be able to see him and only him. 

“Seriously brother, you have to get out here before pa realises that you’re gone!”

Disregarding his sibling’s warning, James stood his ground, completely enraptured and sharing your breath as he pressed himself up against your voluminous gown. You weren’t sure if it was because of the proximity or if your fingers simply followed the magnet calling them, but you found yourself pressing your palms against the silky fabric of his detailed jacket, feeling his taught abdomen expand with every shaky breath. 

Dilated pupils flickering down towards your lips, you found your own mirroring his, fearing that you might faint in the intensity of it all. 

His lips pressed against yours before you even had the chance to fathom that it was actually happening. The prince was kissing you. His lips were brushing against yours not in curiosity, but in genuine yearning.  

“Come on James, stop messing around, I know you’re in here!”

A small string of saliva followed as James reluctantly pulled back, thumbs brushing over each one of your cheeks as he stared deeply down into your hazy eyes. 

“Come to my room at midnight,” he whispered breathlessly, restraining himself to dive back in. 

“Your highness, I-”

“Please,” he interrupted desperately. 

You didn’t give yourself another moment to think before giving him an answer, being completely spellbound, you uttered, “yes.”

And with a bright smile, he let go of you and backed away, still staring as you had to reach out for support against the wall in order to not tumble back against the ornamental armor. 

“Just hold your horses, Thomas,” he called out to his frantic brother, eyes still locked with yours, “I’m coming!”

Hearing the rapid beating of your heart thumping in your ears, you let out a shaky breath. It took you a long moment to finally mustered up the courage and let your fist come into contact with the prince’s door. 

Almost instantaneously was it ripped open as if James’ fingers themselves had already been mere inches from the silver knob, impatiently lying in wait like a lion on the hunt, the action was so swift that it startled you. 

Face lighting up as he saw you, nervously standing outside his chambers, he promptly grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you inside. 

As the door shut behind you, “h-hi,” you offered him a meek smile and stood in the dim room as if it was a china shop. 

Elatedly biting down on his plump bottom lip, he echoed, “hi,” sliding his fingers down to weave through your own. Using the hold as leverage, he gently pulled you in closer, his other palm ready to catch your cheek before confidently pressing his lips against yours. 

When he momentarily pulled away, you squeaked, “your majesty-,” hindering him from taking your lips once more.

“James,” he corrected you breathily, keeping his eyes shut and nuzzling his nose lightly against yours. 

“James…” you tried to keep your head levelled, “what am I doing here?”

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” he took the hand still enveloped in his and pressed it against his chest, “here, with me?”

“I…” this was wrong. The list of punishable things to stray away from in your line of work was extensive, but this one was certainly at the top, “James…”

“Christ, that sounds good coming from your lips,” he groaned, seizing your lips again and flexing his fingers on the side of your head, lightly messing up your primly pinned hair. 

Feeling yourself melt under his touch, the kisses began to wander, scattering down your goosebump-ridden neck. 

“We…” your breathing was heavy and ragged, “we can’t… What if someone finds out?”

Pulling back, he gently shook his head, “they won’t,” dark eyes boring into your very soul. 

“But I can’t-… Y-you’re-…”

“I?”

“You are-…”

“I am just me… Just James,” he stared down at you, begging you to stay. 

“But-”

“I am yours,” he promised you earnestly, a hint of fear glinting in his golden eyes, “I am all yours.”

Choking down a sob, you then found yourself pulling him down for another kiss, letting his overwhelming vow sink in and dim that warning light pleading you not to venture any further. 

Soon clawing at the silky fabric of his jacket, your fingers caught in the two rows of shiny buttons, restraining yourself from just ripping them clean off. Letting out a quiet whimper as James suddenly detached from you, taking a step back, gazing down at your heaving form, not giving in as you reached out for him to return. 

Eyes fixed, his own fingers slowly found the buttons along his torso and began to undo them. Tilting his chin up, he watched you closely as he carefully unveiled every inch of himself to you. Moving your fingers up to mirror his actions, he swiftly spoke up, “wait, let me do it,” stopping you before you’d truly begun, “please.”

The wish made you suck in a breath in anticipation, slowly lowering your hands back down to either side of your skirt, clutching onto the heavy lavender fabric for support as you gave him a small nod. 

For a moment, you thought he was gonna bear it all to you right then and there, perhaps he did as well, but his fingers stilled right at the waistband of his underwear when only they remained. Blinking sluggishly as you tried to take in his breathtaking visage, in what felt like a millisecond, James had moved to be back into your proximity. Walking around to stand behind you, his fingers then began to work at the numerous buttons and laces, freeing you of the unusually extravagant ensemble. 

You hadn’t even noticed how you’d stopped breathing till his lips pressed against your exposed shoulder and let the first layer fall. 

Little by little, the weight you carried was lightened as he tossed more and more fabric to the cold floor, creating quite the poofy puddle. When the corset fell off, James quickly replaced the stiff restraining item with his large warm palms, feeling your waist through the last thin layer remaining, inhaling deeply against the back of your neck. 

Gently turning you around, he slid his hands up your sides, promptly lifting your arms to stay above your head. Not dropping his eyes from yours, he glided fingers down to gather up the material of your delicate chemise, only lifting it over your head when the whole length of it was bunched up in his fists. 

Not being able to wait any longer, you let your arms fall, draping them around his broad shoulders and pressing your bare body up against his, the palpable tent in his briefs twitching against your stomach at the contact. 

Kissing him deeply, you nearly didn’t register when he scooped you up into his arms, the action seeming so effortless for the prince. Thighs enveloping his hips, it was first your heel that attempted to rid him of his last remaining clothes, though when it only worked to push them an inch off his hips, you impatiently dropped a hand down to yank them down the rest of the way, letting him step out of them as his slow stride closed in on the plush bed on the opposite side of the chamber. 

Feeling the bedframe soon halt his footsteps, your lips didn’t fall from his as he leisurely turned and planted himself on the mattress, taking you with him still securely wedged against his body. 

With his hands already rooted on your rear end, now that he no longer needed to carry you, they started to explore your body, palming at every pillowy curve within his reach. It only took one measly little rock of your hips against his thighs for him to needily yank you forward, landing your sobbing centre directly on top of his hard length.

“Your highne-, James,” you whimpered, the intoxicating contact making you detach from his lips and hide your blushing cheeks in his sturdy shoulder, still reciprocating his forward actions and sliding your dripping heat all along his throbbing length. 

“Please, let me have you,” he groaned into your hair, his hot breath blowing back some of the unravelled hair framing your face, “let me feel your warmth,” he pressed a palm on the small of your back, making you arch it and causing all of the delicious pressure to always be directly on your buzzing little pearl, “just let me in, love,” his fingers caressed your spine as you moaned against his neck, bucking desperately against his hardness, “let me have you, let me have all of you just like you have me.”

Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped onto James’ cock and lifted up your trembling thighs, though his large palms swiftly scooped under you, granting you some more security as you swept the bulbous tip through your folds, parting the wet petals over and over again till your quivering hole was screaming for attention. And then, still with your face buried in the crook of his neck, you sank down, eyes rolling back in your skull as your creamy pussy slowly swallowed all of his length. 

“Fuck,” James cursed, his chest rapidly rising and falling underneath you. 

Clinging onto him for dear life, you slowly began to ride him, shakily bouncing in his lap. Lewd squelching noises reverberated off the palace walls as he let you find your rhythm, eventually finding a slow but intense pace, first raising yourself nearly completely off, till just the memory of his girth remained, and then slamming your hips down against his own so hard that it actually made you see stars with how deep he got. 

“Let me see that beautiful face of yours,” you felt his fingers come to rest on each side, in no way attempting to force your head back, simply pleading with you sweetly with every gentle sweep of his thumbs against your cheeks. Your hips faltered as you timidly crawled out of your hiding spot and blinked your heavy lids at him. 

The shyness eventually melted away as you registered the adoring look in his eye. Gradually resuming your hips moments, you watched as his head tilted back ever so slightly in pleasure and gaze down at you through his lashes, “there you go, darling,” you let out a loud moan as you felt his palm accompany his praise, swiftly landing it upon your bottom, encouraging your bouncing and causing you to get back on track that much faster. 

Rapidly nearing the end now that his soulful eyes were locked with yours, you found yourself completely lost in the euphoric feeling, eventually welcoming James’ desperate aid as he dug his fingers into your hips and rocked you in his lap, essentially just using your body as he would with his own fist at night, lifting you off with such ease and fucking into you till you were both absolutely wrecked by the perfectly synched orgasms that rocked your realities. Though still, even as the pace slowed, he still kept on bouncing you in his lap, pushing his load deeper within you with every needy thrust. 

Breathlessly, both of you still completely enveloped in each other, your arms sluggishly draped around his neck and his wrapped around your sweaty body, keeping you pressed up against him. 

Slowly blinking his eyes open and staring back at you through his glasses, which had long ago glided so far down his long nose that they were now on the verge of falling off, he sighed contently and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Promise that you’ll write to me,” he whispered, his deep rumble making your sensitive body tingle and your walls clamper down on his softening girth. 

First giving his nose a light nudge with yours, you then brushed your lips against his, rapidly developing the innocent peck into a kiss so passionate that the time might as well have stopped. 

“I will,” you breathed, feeling the most blissful of tears roll down your cheek, “I promise.” 

“Y-your majesty!” you gasped, throwing your head back in ecstasy, nearly bumping your head against the doorframe you were balancing against. 

Detaching his lips from your swollen clit with a pop, he glanced up at you from his kneeling position and corrected, “James…” chuckling lightly as his fingers still clutched onto your dark skirt, bunching it up at your waist, “love, it’s been a whole year, thought you’d shake that habit by now.”

“Has it truly been a year already?” a shaky breath escaped your throat as he planted a kiss on your gleaming petals that was way too soft for how close he had you to the edge. 

“Happiest year of my life…” he beamed, right before diving back in, eating you out so as if someone could walk in and interrupt your fun at any moment, which was completely probable seeing as he hadn't waited for you to be behind closed doors for him to have a taste, simply whirled you around a corner and told you to be on lookout while he had his fun. 

“Fuck!” you weaved your fingers through his hair in an effort to keep him steady as the fireworks set off inside your belly, “James, I’m gonna-, don’t stop!” 

Bucking against his tongue as he stared up at your pleasure-filled face in awe, his mouth eventually eased into light pecks, loving the way your sensitive form jumped against his lips. Eventually rising back up to his feet, he pressed his slick-covered lips against yours and let your dress fall back down, covering the mess he had made. 

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, lifting his thumb up to clean the glistening lower half of his face, swiping the finger over his chin only to bring it back up to his pillowy lips, licking the rest of your essence off and enjoying every last drop you’d given him.

“…It was an automobile accident…”

“W-what?” James uttered breathlessly, haven not heard a word of what his father had said after the bomb had been dropped. 

Tightening his jaw in an effort to control his own unbearable emotions, the severe king repeated, keeping his voice clear and stern, “your brother, crown prince Thomas, died last night. The authorities found him this morning a few hours away from here, in his car, which had crashed, tumbled over completely. I don’t know how long he was out there, trapped beneath an entire ton of metal, waiting it out, all alone… I-…” he let out a shaky breath, momentarily closing his eyes in order to centre himself, “the funeral will be held on Monday. That should give people a chance to get here in time.”

“Monday…” James’ unfocused eyes flicked around the room as he tried and failed to breathe in a world without his big brother, “granny will be able to get here in that time… that’s-…” he noticed how his glasses were now completely fogged up by his agonising tears, “she-, she should be here…” 

“My dear boy, you know what this means, right?” he exhaled, trying to catch his son’s glistening eyes, “as of last night your life will never be the same. It’s time for you to step up as the next rightful heir to the crown.”

next part

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[k1nky-fool]

They Called Her Mania

Part 3/?

Masterlist

Doom Slayer/ OC (Mania)

Pairing: M/F

Rating: Explicit (NSFW)

Warnings: horny filth, size kink, oral (f-recieving), some dom/sub dynamics, but both are switches.

For @ninjarose23 because you were kind enough to comment on my last chapter.

-X-

It was unfortunate what he found on the other side of the gate. There was minimal demon resistance. Apparently it actually took a bit longer for a place to fill back up after he'd cleared it.

He procured his helmet, and he found the sweater that Mania had left behind. However, her twig was in a less than ideal condition.

It had completely snapped in half; probably the result of a larger demon stepping on it. More unfortunate that the demon hadn't at least gotten stuck in the foot with the nails, but the bat was not in any state to be repaired.

He would definitely have to find her a new weapon. Mania had said she was near-sighted. Which meant the majority of guns would be out of the picture. Not to mention, she was also nearly half his size, so any of the wide-range, heavy weapons were also not viable. Though there was definitely one gun she would probably thrive with: shotgun.

It wasn't a good idea to try to hit a demon with a shotgun at long range anyway. But a sawed-off barrel and a melee weapon would be right up her alley. It was absolutely stunning to see her work with a melee weapon.

Small, soft, Mania, that could kill anything she came across, and leave him begging just to let him touch her. The thought of holding her came back full swing, only now he wished he'd ignored Vega, and pinned her to the workbench just to see how much of her fantasy she'd let him get to before stopping him.

"Your heart rate has risen with no exterior motivation, and I am reading a spike in testosterone." Vega commented.

There was never a time he wished he could smack Vega before, but he was coming dangerously close to it. "I'm heading back."

The portal opened, and he stepped back into the threshold of the Fortress. Mania was nowhere to be seen. He headed back to his workshop, taking off the armor, and leaving the retrieved items there, while he went off to take a shower.

He didn't know how many hours he'd been awake at this point, but Vega hadn't mentioned that he was nearing the edge of his sleep schedule, so he would continue on for now.

Mania was still absent, and she didn't come to the workshop. He knew she'd talk to him when she was ready. But he couldn't pressure her into saying or doing anything. He certainly couldn't pressure her into trusting him.

The slight burnout from working tirelessly on his armor repairs was getting to him, though. Vega would have to run a diagnostic on his armor, anyway. Instead of burning himself out further, he took a book off the shelf and left to rest in his room.

Surprise came when Mania was waiting for him outside the bedroom. She looked frozen in place, struggling to say anything at all. He just opened the door, and let her step inside first.

It took her only a moment to be sure of her choice and take his invitation. "Umm… your room is bigger than mine."

"The Fortress was a command center. This was supposed to be a general's room, but yours was a vice commander's." He explained. She looked around at his excuse of decor. Most of it was just guitars, shelves of vinyl records and video games, and old Metal band posters.

"Well, you certainly found your niche." She chuckled, though the silence he left open made it awkward, and it was getting to her. "I- I'm sorry I freaked out on you. I- I just… you've been nothing but kind to me, but I still- … you didn't deserve that, and you-"

"I'm not angry at you." He interrupted her rambling. He went to sit down on his bed, leaving enough room for her to do the same if she wanted. "You got scared. It happens." He said, "The least I could do is trust you with my name."

She pulled his tags out of her pocket, undoing the small tangle. "Flynn B. Taggart." She read off. "I figured you were probably a marine. I knew a few that worked at the shop and you remind me a bit of them the way you carry yourself. At least it's not the same as army guys."

"Figures nothing much had changed in the hundred years I was gone." He chuckled.

"Well, I find military guys are creatures of habit." She remembered. "Even you have your habits."

A teasing smile spread across his face. "Oh, you've been looking into my habits now."

"Not on purpose" She defended, sitting down on the bed with him. "You're just really obvious."

"I am not-"

"You have terrible posture when you're around the Fortress," She began, "but every time I walk into the room, you straighten right the fuck up."

"Alright, you found one habit-"

"You also bite your tongue when you're concentrating." She pointed out.

"I- " she was right.

"You also crack your knuckles like I do." She listed, "And when you zone out while working, you hum the tunes of Metallica songs. And those are just small habits. Imagine what I could find in a month or even a year." She added.

"And what makes you so good at finding my habits?" He asked.

"Well, being a little scared of you made me try to analyze the hell out of you." She shrugged. "But most of it is because you are very difficult to ignore."

"Oh? And why's that?" He smiled.

"Well, you're absolutely massive, I'll start with that." She teased, barely managing to hide her snickering.

"Really? Maybe you're just small."

"I am quite tall for someone of my profile, thank you very much!" She feigned offense, and still laughed.

"Then why are you so easy to pick up?"

"Flynn!" She laughed as he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her, only to plop her back down on the soft mattress.

"What else?" He asked, holding himself up so he didn't fall on her.

"Well, you certainly aren't difficult to look at." She chuckled, looking up at him, pink dusting her cheeks. "Makes it a little easier to pick up on things when I'm looking at you anyway."

"Mania-"

"Tara."

He actually felt his heart leap at her correction.

"M-My name is Tara Callaghan." She said softly.

Tara. It was a beautiful name, for a beautiful woman. It wasn't riddled with distrust, or something a demon would ever say. It was hers.

"Tara." He repeated. He was close enough to her, that he could hear her take a fast breath in and out, and he could even see her pupils dilate, even as her eyelashes fluttered. "I like that name."

The rise and fall of her chest became more sporadic as she glanced around his face for some clue, anything that could give her a hint as to what was going on in his head at that moment.

Flynn himself wasn't fairing much better. Just the fact he was paying such close attention to her eyes, and her breathing told him enough. He wasn't searching for anything as he glanced around her face. He simply admired her.

Tara's hair fell around the pillow like a dark halo. Green eyes still looked around to solve the puzzle that was Flynn Taggart. While her face usually held an array of freckles and spots, each one was disappearing in the low light, the redder her face became. Her mouth opened as though to say something, but it was like she was still pulling the syllables out of her brain while Flynn's grip on her side tightened the more he thought of what he wanted to do to her. It took everything in him to not give in, but the thought of scaring her away was more terrifying than any demon he's faced.

"Flynn." She said it almost like a warning, but it came out mostly like a plea.

I'm fucked.

"Tara?" She had much clearer attention on listening to him now. "May I kiss you-"She didn't wait a second to let him finish asking before she'd grabbed the sides of his face and claimed the kiss for herself.

Flynn also figured he wouldn't waste time, and kissed her back with the same eagerness she'd attacked him with. She really did kiss like she meant to fight him; some personal inner rampage they'd both been holding back, only for her to draw it out of him when he was trying to keep it under control.

He let his hand leave her side, running it up her stomach and chest, and taking her face in his hand, forcibly slowing her down a tad. She couldn't stop the way she whined, as his pace slowed.

Flynn was effectively holding her down, and making her take it slower. It wasn't easy to get her buzzing excitement to turn to a deliberate pace, but he wasn't budging. Tara's frantic pursuit gave in to her need to show him she could be good. At least this time. She could let him take the lead, and not have to prove she was too strong to be taken care of.

She didn't want to be too strong for this; Flynn was a weakness she wanted to accept. But when his fingers trace her jaw like feathers, he wasn't a weakness, but a carer. Tara could be vulnerable, and Flynn would touch her like he knew just how raw she was under her shell she just abandoned.

He pulled his lips away from hers, and moved from his spot on the bed. He got up on his knees, and easily pulled Tara's legs open to let him sit between them. He leaned over her, tracing touches up her ribs, and kissed the soft spot of her pulse on her neck, feeling just how rapid the rhythm was that made her mind rush. More kisses to her neck made her whimper, and tense for only a second at a time.

"Tara." He rasped. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Please don't." She breathed out. "Please, don't stop, Flynn." It stirred something in him the way she begged him to keep going. It was like he'd been waiting years to hear her say that.

Despite his teasing, he knew he was quite intimidating, especially now that he could see his hands in intimate comparison to her body. Flynn's hand covered from just under her ribcage, to dangerously close to her hip bone.

Flynn also knew his strength. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, or worse, scare her. He tried to keep all of this in mind as he let himself sneak a hand under the tank top she wore. "Still alright?"

"Yes- please just-" Her words died out in the moan as he slipped his hand under her bra and easily palmed her and pinched a nipple. "-Fuck.."

She took the opportunity to lift her whole top over her head, leaving her bare chest beneath him. He was about to enjoy what he had, but her fingers in his short hair, pulling gently stopped him. "Your turn first." She commanded.

Flynn didn't even let himself think over it before his shirt was on the floor. Anything to enjoy the half naked blessing under him.

She moaned and gasped as he gave small pinches to her exposed chest. Flynn let himself indulge in putting a hard nipple in his mouth, and letting Tara scratch at his scalp, being unable to get a grip on his short hair.

His short hair became more of an inconvenience to her as he made his way lower, making quick work of her shorts, exposing her wet, dripping, pussy.

However, he didn't let Tara off easy. Flynn took his time, giving soft kisses to her thighs, still playing it safe and not biting. He couldn't wait to hear her come completely undone at the mercy of his tongue, but he wanted to hear her ask for it.

"What do you want, Tara?" He asked, confidently, knowing she would struggle with her request.

"Mmm- you know~" It was like music to hear the strain in her voice, trying to get the words past moans and heavy breathing.

"I'm not sure I do know." He placed a kiss so close to her throbbing clit that she almost felt like punching him, but all she could manage was a weak attempt at pushing his head where she wanted it. They both knew that her strength was nowhere near enough to make him do anything he wasn't already planning on doing. "Use your words, Tara."

"I- I- please, Flynn- just-" Tara whined at him.

He's barely touched her and she's falling apart. "Please what?"

"Please- fuck- make me cum on your tongue." She broke.

That's all he really wanted to hear. "Well when you ask so nicely."

His tongue licked from her hole to clit before he sucked hard enough for her to see stars. Not even ten seconds in and she could feel the tension building up in her core. Flynn didn't slow at any point, despite how she clawed and attempted to pull at his hair, or how her soft thighs squeezed around his head.

What was simultaneously the worst and best of how he circled his tongue around her clit, was that she couldn't pull him away, or push him down. Flynn locked his arms around her hips, and no matter how much she struggled, there was no moving against him unless he wanted her to.

"Fuck! Flynn, I'm- I'm gonna-" she completely fell apart as her thighs tightened around his head and she all but screamed out.

Flynn savored how she spasmed around his tongue before he got up to take a look at her. Tara's chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace, slowing ever so slightly as she came down from her high.

She sat up, and accepted his kiss as he came up also. Tara could taste herself on him, but she didn't really care. She also placed kisses on Flynn's jaw and throat as he removed the rest of his clothes. Though, Tara had no intentions of letting him stay in charge.

The second he was slightly off balance, Tara gripped him and flipped him under her.

"Fuck- Tara!" He groaned out as she grinded down on him.

"I think it's my turn." Tara chuckled as she looked over his form under her. Many on Earth saw him as a god. Many more in hell imagined him as a titan or a legend. There certainly was some sort of power trip that was not wasted on Tara as the thought of holding a god beneath her went through her mind.

Though as of now, he wasn't The Slayer. He wasn't a god, a titan or a legend. Flynn was just a man. A man she trusted and wanted to get absolutely ruined by, but still just a man.

Tara moved on top of him, dragging a massive, twitching, cock up and down her dripping pussy. Flynn was clearly trying to control himself by holding onto the outside of her thighs, but she could tell he was slowly losing it with how his fingers dug into her flesh, and would probably leave little bruises.

"-Tara, please."

Suddenly his desire to hear her beg for him to make her cum was understood. "Please what?"

She could tell when he realized the script was flipped on him. Once at breakfast, again at the scanner rig, and now while she kept his release just out of reach until he asked her for it. He always kept away from eye contact before eventually coming to terms with how he'd been bested.

It was quite entertaining to watch his face while his mind blanked of all coherent sentences while she felt down his chest. "I'm not moving until you tell me what you want."

"Make me cum." It was almost like he was angry with himself that it took him so long to form the words. "Please."

"I'll take that." Tara smiled, finally sinking down on his thick cock. It was difficult to take him. When he finally bottomed out, she had to stop for a moment to adjust to the size of him. Tara might need to admit she was a little too ambitious, but she was eventually able to move, lifting her hips and falling down again, earning a soft groan from Flynn.

He could tell she was struggling, but it didn't bother him. Instead, he sat up, and wrapped strong arms tightly around her waist and hips. He started lifting her and moving with a slow, deliberately rough, pace, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Tara was seeing stars. Her arms wrapped around his neck, losing grip on her self control every time he hit that one spot. As her second orgasm built up, Flynn's thrusts became quicker and sporadic, like he was more desperate to feel every inch of her.

He began mumbling low assurances into her neck as she cried with how rough he became. "You're beautiful. It's ok, you're doing so good. You feel so good. It's ok." Flynn gave small kisses to her pulse and throat in between sweet words.

"S' so much."

"You can take it. It's ok." He assured her again. The rough pace, with soft words sent her over the edge, and he was followed soon after.

Neither of them moved while coming down from the high. Neither wanting to let go and have to process anything else for a while other than being wrapped up in each other's arms.

When they did move, he was hesitant to let her touch leave him. Tara noticed, and gave a soft smile. "I'm not about to disappear, Flynn."

He hummed in response. "Still don't want you to go."

She couldn't help but giggle. "Then come with me to the shower." That sounded like a good idea.

The two of them got cleaned up, though the whole time, he still didn't let her leave his touch for more than a few seconds at a time. Somehow, Tara didn't mind. If anything, she also seemed to not want to leave his touch for any longer than she had to.

Flynn didn't ask her to stay, but she didn't leave. They both seemed to agree it was too hard to separate for the night. Well, at least to sleep, since it was always night in space. Regardless of the hour, it was the easiest Flynn had gotten to sleep in years.

-Tara-

She was the first to wake up, though he had wrapped an arm around her waist, and rested his head on her chest. He was heavy, so Tara definitely wasn't going anywhere any time soon, but she also didn't really want to. Honestly, his weight was more comforting than awkward.

Flynn stirred slightly as she absentmindedly guided gentle fingers through short hair. Somehow it wasn't strange to see him like this. Like he wasn't worried about anything. His forehead where his brows were always scrunched together was softened and his breath was steady and slow.

Tara had certainly never seen him like this before, yet didn't feel new at all. Like he'd always meant to be this soft, but just couldn't while he was burdened with consciousness. While there was always something to be worried or angry about.

Ever so slowly, he became more aware of the waking world. Not that he seemed all that happy about it, but the way he stiffened, and tightened his hold on her waist told Tara that he was definitely awake. "Good morning, love. You look like you slept well."

"Why'd I have t' fuckin wake up then?" His groggy morning voice, paired with how low his voice already was, made it sound like a lion was arguing instead of Flynn. He was many things, but a morning person was not one of them.

"Because as fun as last night was, we still have shit to do."

"Why do I even wanna get shit done?"

Sure, she'd pull the card. "Because if you wanna repeat last night, then we gotta do shit."

Flynn rolled over and sat up as quickly as he could given that he had less than enough brain function to do so. "Fine, I'll get shit done."

"That's what I thought." Tara chuckled, placing a brief kiss on his cheek. She got up and stretched, earning a few satisfactory pops from her back and shoulders. "Did you find my twig yesterday?"

Flynn's expression changed from tired to slightly guilty. "Yeah, about that. Twig didn't make it back from Lima in one piece."

That sucked. "How bad is it?"

"Completely snapped in two. That baron probably stepped on it." He said, "But I did bring it back. Even as busted as it is."

That hurt a bit, but it was just a baseball bat with nails in it. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it was just unfortunate that it was now, when usable weapons were few and far between. "Thanks for bringing it back anyway. What am I supposed to use for a weapon now?"

"Vega and I are working on something." Flynn promised as he got up. "Along with trying to find something to get you a little more armored in the field."

"You know I need to be a little more mobile than you."

"We can handle it. Don't worry. We won't send you into a fight with something that'll get you killed." He offered. "In the meantime – you know how to use a sawed-off shotgun?"

Tara eyed him suspiciously. "If it weren't the end of the world, I'd call you a cop. But yeah, I have some experience."

Flynn nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. He turned his back to her as he lifted his sleep shirt off, revealing quite the array of red scratches that she had left The night before. "Then you'll do fine. See you in the shop?"

"Definitely." She chirped awkwardly, turning on her heel and moving on light feet from the door.

"Hey, I want that T-shirt back!" He yelled after her.

"No 'ya don't!" Tara head him laugh in the distance

-Flynn-

The workshop was exactly how he'd left it, which was always a good sign. Though, he had a feeling today would be long before Vega became a pain in the ass.

"Enjoy your night?" The AI asked.

"Yes I did, smartass, thanks for asking."

"I, for one, thought you would kill each other a week ago."

"Well, we didn't."

"Even still, it only took you three weeks, one day, fourteen hours, and sixteen minutes to decide to sleep with her instead."

"That long!?" Tara joined them. "Damn, I must be losing my touch."

"For Tara, it only took two weeks, three days, two hours, and eleven minutes to decide to sleep with you. Which happened only an hour after deciding she wouldn't have to kill you."

"Fuck yea, it did."

Flynn was struggling to keep up. "What the hell is happening?"

"Either being horny is a competition now, or we're getting slut-shamed by a robot."

"I mean no offense."

"Then we're competing, I guess." She deduced. "And I'm winning."

That was something he could understand. "Then you won't be for long."

Tara bounced her head from side to side in thought. "Nah, I don't think I'll fall behind."

"That sounds like a challenge." He teased.

A mischievous grin spread across her cheeks. "If you can surprise me by the next mission then…"

"I get to be on top." He supplied surprisingly quickly.

"Fine. I'm only agreeing because I don't think you will." She said, "And if you can't, then I get-" she looked around the workshop until her eyes landed on the weapon rack. "Then I get to shoot the Gauss Cannon at a Girl's Night."

"Deal."

"You gonna take a swing, or are you gonna wait until I least suspect it?" Tara laughed.

"I know exactly what will surprise the hell out of you, and I don't need to be subtle to do it." Flynn let himself drift closer to her.

"Oh? Care to enlighten me?" She took another step closer to him and gently pulled on his belt with a smirk.

He towered over her. He knew how big he was, and Tara seemed to be completely unfaltered by it. Hell, she was attracted to it. "No."

She laughed as he stepped back and began working at his station again, fixing his armor. Flynn tried to pay her no mind for now, but even with her simply sitting on the floor, going through holograms about demons, she somehow kept drawing his attention.

Eventually he turned on a playlist, hoping it would distract him more than she was. His plan backfired on him when Tara began humming along to songs she knew, and even when she didn't know one, she picked up on the melody enough to follow along. It made it far too easy for Flynn to realize that he loved her voice.

It had been hours, and Flynn had made some good progress on his suit repairs. A few more small fixes and it would be good as new. Tara for her part, didn't look any less burnt out. She laid flat on her back, scrolling through one of his old discoveries on Mars about Summoners.

One song ended and the next began. It was a slow, jazzy song, one he remembered his mom liking back in the day. Most of those memories felt so far away that it was like he was remembering a fact that he'd been told about someone else. Not like it was his own life.

But this was his own life, and if he had it, he was gonna use it. Flynn strolled up to Tara. She shot him a confused look when he offered a hand to help her up. It was break-time and goddammit, they both needed to stop using their brains for a little.

She skeptically took his hand and he helped her up. Flynn was met with very little resistance as he pulled her to him and started swaying her with the song.

Tara barked out a laugh, settling into the dance easily. "You're just a big doofus, aren't you?"

"At least when the armor is off." He chuckled back, swaying side to side with Tara to to slow swing of the song.

The two fell into comfortable silence. He'd be lying if he said this didn't have the same effect on him as he was trying to have on her.

In moments like these it felt far more intimate than having her in his bed. Simply having her close, enjoying the warmth of her waist in his hands and her head resting on his chest in quiet lull with the music. Like he was trying to tell her that the only thing that he could ever ask for was for her to stay.

Please, just stay.

Tara gasped slightly and lifted her head for a moment like some realization just hit her like a truck. Green eyes searched his face for some clue, and ultimately landed on the exact conclusion he was waiting for her to find.

"Shit." It was spoken like the word had surprised her.

There it is.

The way to surprise Tara wasn't to make a smooth move, or say something that made her face turn red and her knees weak. No, it was to show her that she was safe. Truly, unconditionally, safe.

The song ended just as slowly as it started. Her forehead dropped against his chest as she let out a defeated sigh. "You win."

"I'll stash that away for the future." He placed a kiss on the crown of her head as he held her there. Eventually he let her go sit down once again after their little break, and he got back to work on the suit.

Flynn could get used to this: having someone else in his workspace, just to enjoy having the company. Hours could go by and he would just be happy that she chose to stay. Every once in a while he'd see Tara shuffle or move around. Maybe he should get her a chair, or something softer than a scavenged rug to sit on.

A soft "Oh fuck." Came from where she was laying on the floor.

Tara had found a picture from the Lazarus project with a sleeping demon set into a wall somewhere in Hell, but she looked terrified.

"What is it?"

Standing up, she brought the hologram to him. "She look familiar?"

Oddly enough, she did. Really, the thing looked like a Summoner, but six times the size with more gold than he'd ever seen on a demon, running along spines and embedded in her head. It looked like the bony wall had swallowed most of her, and she lay sleeping there.

"That's the original Mania." Tara said, pulling up another report. "Dr. Hive on Lazarus was trying to wake and weaponize her. When that didn't work, they just harvested the energy from the prison."

"That's the energy they used on you?" He asked.

"Yeah… she was a titaness. Records at her prison say she was feared and respected across her realm, but she decided to conquer territory that didn't belong to her. Other titans didn't like it, all that much and they turned on her. But her energy stayed within the prison, even in her sleep. Every so often, her energy would build up enough and influence working minds to attempt freeing her."

"So Hive wasn't as smart as they thought."

Tara laughed. "Maybe not. I think they definitely weren't as objective as they thought. This report is nothing but hypocrisy from them about the nature of Mania. They just thought they were built different."

"What about the demons?" Flynn asked, idly fiddling with wiring while they spoke. "Why do they call you that?"

"I think some may actually have me confused with her." She guessed. "The more coherent demons can tell that I'm at least mostly human. But I don't know if they call me that because it's the only name they have for this energy, or because they believe I'm some kind of reincarnation or something. Honestly, I hope I never find out."

"That's a smart choice." He agreed. "I don't usually read the reports unless I have to figure out how to kill something I haven't met before. Everything else is just fucking aggravating."

"Fair enough, but unfortunately this means I have to find an answer to a question before it finds me and answers itself." Tara figured.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"If the Hell Priests conquering Earth give more than one sleeping titan energy, then what does that mean for Mania and me?"

[kraekat29]

Ruby bit her tongue, staring out the window. It'd been two weeks since she'd grabbed a weapon blindly from the table in the basement and tried to stab Rafe with a knife sharpener, and ten days since Rafe declared that he was getting Ruby a prenatal paternity test. She hadn't actually done any damage, so Rafe wasn't mad-- at least, he wasn't taking it out on her.

Sometimes, JJ's sobs echoed up the vent after Rafe came back upstairs. And that was the worst type of psychological torture.

--

It'd been six hours since the results came back-- clearly labeled inconclusive.

It'd been three hours since Rafe'd brought Ruby back from the doctor's office, where she'd gotten an ultrasound.

Twins. Ruby assumed one was Rafe's and one was JJ's, but how was--

It didn't matter how it was possible, it only mattered that Ruby came up with a way to stop Rafe from hurting JJ.

So far, she had nothing but the dead phone from Sage and tear tracks on her cheeks.

--

Rafe was out. He hadn't locked the door. Ruby knew when he'd be back-- she had plenty of time to visit JJ.

Or call 911. No, scratch that-- Rafe had the cops in his pocket. Of course he did.

Ruby crept down the stairs as silently as possible. The basement stairs creaked under her weight, and she could hear JJ protest softly.

"Rafe, c'mon, man, y-you got what you wanted..."

"JJ?" Ruby whispered. She was all turned around, used to Rafe finding the switch that was built much higher in the wall than it should've been.

"Wh-- Ruby?"

"JJ, baby, just keep talking."

"What do you want? I thought Rafe kept you happy and satisfied, or whatever bullshit he called it--"

Ruby's hand found JJ's shoulder and crept up to hold his face. "How come you believe Rafe's bullshit? I love you, JJ, not fucking Rafe. Okay?"

JJ went quiet for a moment. "I... I'm sorry."

"You'd better be," Ruby said, leaning down to kiss JJ's forehead. "I'm gonna get you out, okay? He's gone, but I don't know how much longer we have."

--

Ruby led JJ up the stairs, keeping a firm hold on his hand. She still wasn't quite sure if he could see or not, but it didn't matter. They were getting out.

That's when the front door slammed.

Rafe.

He went through the kitchen and passed the hallway JJ and Ruby were in without a second thought. It was only when he saw the basement door, left wide open, that he reacted.

"Ruby!" Rafe's yell echoed throughout the house, shaking Ruby to her core. Her heart jumped into her throat and she started to move faster, toward the door. "Ruby Routledge, I know you're still in here! You'd better stop moving or I swear to God--"

"Are you gonna make her kill me?" JJ crowed, splitting off from Ruby with surprising agility. "Gonna have her spill my blood? Maybe make her wear it 'round her neck? You sick bastard!"

His voice was so loud that it filled the house, making it impossible for Rafe to tell where it was coming from.

"JJ!" Ruby whisper-yelled, rounding the corner, following the blood that JJ's footprints left--

Rafe's yell this time was different. She'd come into the kitchen just in time to see JJ drive the knife into Rafe's back.

HAHA YES! I’VE BEEN WAITING SINCE DAY ONE FOR THIS MOMENT I’M SO HAPPY😭

(@redhead1180 next part)

[crazed-reviews]

Review: Miraculous "Bunnyx" Fashion doll from Playmates Toys

So, I finally bought myself a Bunnyx doll! You may recall back in March I made a post about my sister's Bunnyx doll, who is from the initial U.S. release. I thought she was really cute, but she had an issue with her neck (which I somehow forgot to mention in that post) which nearly all dolls from that initial wave had, that I hoped would be fixed with later waves. 

And then I proceeded to forget about her for eight months until I saw she was on sale, oops. I purchased her for $11 USD on Amazon, but she retails for $16.99.

Here she is in her box, which is the new design with a rainbow across the front and information about the character on the back. The information is somewhat correct, except it says "Transformation phase" instead of "Transformation Phrase" (this typo was fixed for the upcoming Cosmobug doll's box, and I assume it'll be fixed on the others at a later point) and that she learns she'll get a Miraculous after being akumatized. She doesn't actually learn about it until the season 3 episode "Timetagger".

I noticed that at the bottom of her box, there was a sticker with a QR code. I scanned it with my phone camera, (Okay… I scanned it with Google Lens. My phone isn't fancy enough to scan QR codes) and it took me to the movie page of the Miraculous Ladybug website, with a teaser for the movie. Not really a trailer, but still neat.

Here's the link, if you're interested:

https://miraculousladybug.com/en/movie

Here she is right out of the box. She comes with her headband and her kwami, Fluff. Like Vesperia, she also comes with a catalogue, advertising the rest of the Miraculous toy line from Playmates Toys. 

As a quick note, she was packaged slightly differently from my sister's Bunnyx. Unlike my sister's Bunnyx, the plastic shell she was attached to didn't go up to her head, and so she didn't have a plastic tab punctured through her head! This was a pleasant surprise, as I strongly dislike those tabs in the heads.

Here's Bunnyx's full outfit. She, like all the other heroes, has a one piece suit with separate shoes. Her suit is blue and white with black trim, and at her neck, a white… pom-pom? I'm not sure what it is, to be honest. It reminds me of both a rabbit's tail, and Cat Noir's bell. I do wish her suit covered her ankles, but I like the overall look. She wears white boots. Without the headband and neck-tail, I'm not sure if I'd get "rabbit" from it. 

Her hands are bare, but for some reason it never bothered me as much as the ankles showing.

Unfortunately, she does not have her Miraculous, a pocket watch, or her weapon, an umbrella. I suppose I could suspend disbelief and pretend her pocketwatch is in her… well, pocket, like in the show, but I don't understand why she doesn't have her weapon. If size was an issue, they could've done it like Draculaura's parasol, from Mattel's Monster High line. Her parasol was molded in a closed position.

Due to the gel in her hair, I can barely get the headband on her, and even when I do, it doesn't sit completely down on her head.

She has 15 points of articulation, with movement at her:

Neck

Shoulders

Double-jointed elbows

Wrists (which only swivel)

Hips

Double-jointed knees

Her joints are pretty tight, and she doesn't have the neck issue that the initial U.S. wave had, where the peg is stiff and angled sideways to where the head is half off the neck and can only move sideways.

Here's a closeup of Bunnyx's face. I really like it!

Bunnyx has blue eyes, pink lips, and a blue, white, and black mask. I do think her eyes should have a reflective dot in them, but I've gotten used to the look.

My particular doll unfortunately has a paint defect on the bottom left (our right) of her mask, where the black outline is smudged. I haven't decided whether to try and fill it in or leave it alone yet.

She has short red hair with loose curls gelled into a solid piece. It is completely rock solid. I kid you not. I thought my sister's Bunnyx's hair was hard, but this is even harder than hers. She doesn't seem to really have the short side bangs my sister's Bunnyx has. I can't really tell through all the gel, but I'm curious if her bangs were changed to be longer, like the rest of her hair, or if they're just so gelled to the side they appear longer.

Here's her headband off of her head. It's mostly white, but the insides of the ears are blue. It looks nice when I can get it on her head! It has four prongs, which I assume is to help keep it in place, but I feel like it makes it harder to get on. It's pretty simple, but pulls her outfit together. 

And here's her kwami, Fluff. I think she looks… interesting. She is mostly white, with blue eyes, and the insides of her ears are also blue. She has two long whiskers on her face, but they're so thick they look like a mustache. I would've preferred her umbrella over Fluff.

Overall, I really like Bunnyx! I'd give her a B+. I wish she came with her Miraculous and umbrella, even if it had to be molded closed, and Fluff looks strange. The paint defect on my doll is what kept her from being an A-. If minor paint issues don't bother you, or you can purchase one in-store, I would definitely recommend her.

[bloodsoakedurge]

Maybe it shouldn't have surprised Balasar, but in a way, it kind of did. The entire idea that so many people had heard about him over the years, from all the things he had done, whether they had been good or bad, was something he didn't think he would ever be asked about in any regard. Sure, he was sure his past would come up every now and again, but the fact that a... well, skeleton, had heard about it was something that really drove home the point about just how many people were aware of him and his deeds.

He does continue to say nothing for a few moments though, despite the fact he should answer Connor instead of staying quiet, but at the same time... part of his brain couldn't help but wander to the idea of what it would feel like to fight against a skeleton... it had been a while since the Urge had reared it's ugly head and as Balasar cast a look to Connor, it was becoming clear that the Urge that had been around him forever was starting to act up again.

And this was something he would rather avoid if he could help it.

"I don't want to deal with you right now" he grumbled to which all he could hear was the faintest bit of a cackle from the Urge that was starting to awaken inside his brain. It knew what it wanted to do and Balasar could only hope more of it didn't start to force its way to the forefront of this interaction.

❝The prospect of so many people having heard about me and what I have done is... a little odd, I must admit. But... I can't help but wonder just how many things were spun and stretched beyond the truth to make the stories more exciting,❞ he chuckled with a shake of his head, ❝Not that many of them needed to be expanded upon in the first place, I'm sure all of my actions could fill a storybook at this rate... a...bloody... storybook, mind you, but a storybook nonetheless.❞

He watches as Connor gets up and begins to inscribe some sigils into the dirt to, what Balasar assumed, was some sort of teleportation spell and the Dragonborn shakes his head gently at the sight. He hadn't even had a chance to voice his opinion and yet... he knew he wanted to go and do this, to get rid of the remaining pockets of Bhaal. From first impressions, Connor surely looked like he could be a worse travel partner and Balasar imagined he would do better than some of the fighters he had begun to come across in his travels.

But his thoughts and watching Connor were broken by the question. A silence fell across the area as Balasar continued to watch Connor, an eyebrow cocking every so slightly at the sudden intrigue in a new question. One Balasar hoped wouldn't be anything bad...

❝Sure, it's not like I have much to do besides wait and gather my things,❞ he remarked as he turned to begin gathering his weapons, his pack, and other trinkets to take to his new temporary home, ❝I imagine this is something to deal with my past in some way?❞

@bloodsoakedurge

"I know you do. It's why I sought you out. And it's why I trust you. I've heard many a great things about you, Balasar. Your bravery, the choices you've had to make. None of what you've done was difficult. The bards within the taverns of Waterdeep sing praises of you. They picked up the songs from other bards, cities away. I've even heard whispers of your name in Neverwinter."

"You're nothing short of amazing. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be the force to wipe out the remainder of your father's following."

Connor wishes he could smile to exert a kind of comfort to the other. But muscles and skin are in short supply. Then, there's the glancing over at what remains of the camp where the dragonborn stayed for the night.

"I have a place that we can stay at within Waterdeep. If you're amicable to it, I can teleport us there, and work on getting you settled in. We aren't in an immediate rush to go out and find them. Kind of a waiting game right now until they're out killing again."

Not that Connor gives Balasar an immediate chance to voice a 'no', because Connor has already began to get to work on the ground, inscribing sigils within the dirt, kneeling down to do so. One of his many hands are holding a book in which he is diligently staring at as he creates the Teleportation Circle.

He does stop, for a second, however, to glance up at the man.

"Can I ask you something? If you do not mind?"

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Back To The Future - Eddie Munson X Female (Future) Reader

Title: Back To The Future

Eddie Munson X Female (Future) Reader

Additional Characters: Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Steve (Mentioned), Robin (Mentioned), Nancy (Mentioned), Max (Mentioned), Max's mom (Mentioned), and Venca (Mentioned)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | FINAL CHAPTER

WC: 1,056

Warnings: Death, killing mentioned, weapons mentioned, a bit sad but good ending, future talk, and hospital stuff mentioned

It was over, but you and the others had lost a lot of people. Thankfully, Steve, Nancy, and Robin killed Vecna, setting him ablaze, and out a window he went. Max was in the hospital, wrapped completely in bandages, head to toe. The doctors said that she was brain-dead and blind on top of that she broke all her bones. Lucas and most of the party, and Max's mom, were with her most of the time. You were there too, but only to say goodbye.

You stood by her bed, looking down upon her as she laid there, tubes and wires were everywhere. You wiped a tear from your eye. You wished you could have known or done something to prevent what had happened. Digging in your bag, you pulled out two caramel apple pops, and settled them down on her bedside table, next to cards and many flowers.

Going into your bag again, with the help from Nancy, she was able to take a picture of your phone from the picture Max took and developed it from her camera. Leaving you with three copies of the picture. You smiled down foundly at it. You loved how Max looked confused and Dustin was slightly behind her in the frame, looking amazed, and Lucas and Mike were off to the other side, confused as ever. Even though Max would never see the picture, you left it there for her, as well as her mother, for letting you stay at their home.

Looking at her one last time, you left the hospital, ready to say goodbye to the others.

~~~

Wrapping her arms around Lucas, you gifted him with the second copy of the picture of Max, him, and the other boys. It reminded him of an almost simpler time. Which he thanked you for, giving you a second hug. Mike, not really one for hugs, just gave you a fist bump. Dustin, when it was his turn, full-on ran up, hugging up tight.

"Thanks for being an amazing cousin." You spoke up, and he chuckled and nodded, pulling away.

I don't want to leave on a sad note. So, I thought I would leave you with some future food before I go. Somehow, thought-out what we've all been through, this thang had kept intact!" You spoke, reaching in your bag and pulling out Push Pops, Ring Pops, Airheads, and Zots. The three boys were thankful, taking the candy in their hands; filling their pockets.

"Y/N?" Dustin asked, gaining your attention.

"Hmm?" You gestured for him to continue.

"Could you tell us one more thing about the future before you go?"

You smiled and nodded, before clearing your throat. "Yes, sure."

"Well, there was this huge trend called 'dabbing'..." You spoke, before dabbing. "It was a huge thing for a couple of years." You laughed as the boys followed and tried to dab too.

"And, every year in the future, they hold d&d convention where hundreds of people come together and play d&d. They also have special guests such as famous authors and artists who show their stuff and sign books! Even this celebrity sometimes shows up to surprise people and play too." You finished, smiling.

Dustin sighed. "That sounds amazing. Thank you, Y/N."

"Thank you for everything, Y/N," Lucas spoke up, and you smiled.

"You're welcome. I'm glad that I ended up here and you guys found me."

You had already said your goodbyes to Robin, Steve, and Nancy, who had left a while back. Turning to Eddie, you stepped forward.

"Come with me, Eddie."

He looked at you, eyes wide. "To the future?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you held onto hope.

"Yes, the police are probably still suspecting you of Chrissy's murder. You could come with me and start over." You spoke, trying to hide your own fear that he would decline.

Eddie looked at you, his face turning red. Him, in the future... With you? Sounded like a dream come true, but his uncle... His friends, and the Hellfire Club. Biting his lip, Eddie looked off to the side. Stepping away, your heart plummeted as Eddie walked over to Dustin, but soared right after.

"Dustin, I hear by giving you the title of Dungeon Master."

Dustin smiled, looking surprised. "What?"

"As our new Dungeon Master, you will now be in charge of the games that are played. And you can have my throne." Eddie continued.

"You're going to go with her?" Dustin asked and Eddie looked back at you with a soft smile.

"Yeah, man. I am." He spoke, before turning back to Dustin.

Placing his hands on his shoulders he continued, "I really like her, man. Besides, the crown had to go to someone soon anyway."

Stepping away, Eddie did a farewell bow before spinning on his heel and wrapping his arm around you. You walked past the high school as you led Eddie to where you thought the hole in the wall was. But, when you got to the place where you remembered entering, it was nowhere to be seen. Panic ran through your veins before Eddie pointed to the small stream, looking down, you saw a hole, big enough to jump through. Looking in, you could see the sidewalk below.

Looking up to Eddie, you took his hand in yours.

"Are you ready?" You asked and Eddie nodded with a smirk.

"More than I'll ever be, babe."

Taking a deep breath, you jumped. Your stomach dropped as you fell, hitting the pavement. Rolling over, you lay there, looking up at Eddie who was standing above you, looking up at you through the hole. You sat up, groaning, you'd definitely have a few bruises here and there. You watched as Eddie jumped through, landing as well, thankfully it wasn't as far as a fall. Grabbing his hand like in the trailer, you helped him up.

You smiled with complete joy as you looked around. Seeing all the familiar sights and smells. There across the street was Starbucks and besides that Barnes & Noble. A beautiful sight. Eddie squeezed your hand, gaining your attention. You looked up at him and smiled as he leaned down, kissing your lips softly.

Yeah... This was his future.

In Hawkins, the lake hole dimension shimmered and sparkled before disappearing from existence completely.

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Taglist:

@girl-with-an-orange-cat @mrs-billyrussooo @readers-posts @fentyreligion @emelieh99 @pure-fvcking-hatred @eddiemunson4ever @fuzzy-purple-crayon

____________________________________________________

Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus chapter on how Eddie's doing in the future :)

[fics-n-stuff]

Deep Breaths

For @inquistitorebony, see request here

Pairing: Kaz Brekker × Reader

Summary: Y/N's anxiety gets the best of them on a job, but thankfully Kaz knows how to handle it.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Panic attacks, brief violence, fake blood, explosions

A/N: Ahh I'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! I had writer's block and I thought I was getting out of my slump but then it just got so much worse again. I had to try so hard to get this finished and I genuinely can't tell if it's good or not, so I really hope you enjoy it 🤞🏽❤

You knew the plan. At least, you thought you knew the plan. You could never be sure with Kaz. Regardless, you were in place where he’d told you to be, weapons concealed in your outfit and Jesper at your side.

“This is crazy. You realise this is crazy, right?” You said, peering around the corner of the alley to get a view of the bridge and the crowds of locals and tourists alike.

“Everything we do is crazy.” Jesper replied with a smirk. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Sometimes you had to wonder how you ended up here, working for Kaz Brekker of all people. The answer to that question was that Jesper had dragged you into it, but then came the question of how the hell you and Jesper had become friends in the first place. That answer was more complicated.

The university of Ketterdam was where your parents had sent you to keep you out of trouble, to get an education so that you could do something useful and conventional with your life. Unfortunately for them, you only succeeded in getting yourself into trouble. Jesper had been the root of that. He was the one who had encouraged you to join him and a group of students on that first night out in East Stave.

You’d managed to stay in university longer than him, but the pull of adventure that the Barrel offered eventually got the better of you. When Jesper fell in deep with the gambling halls and turned to Kaz and the Dregs, you had followed after him for no reason other than the thrill. Which was strange, considering the immense anxiety that you carried through life.

Jesper had questioned it at the time, and sometimes continued to question you on it, but you couldn’t explain it to him. The type of thrill that your exploits with the Dregs provided wasn’t the type that triggered your anxiety, generally speaking. Talking to people was your weak point, fighting or stealing from them was usually fine.

Kaz had been skeptical about you at first, but Jesper was adamant that he should bring you onboard. It wasn’t long before he came to see that you certainly had your uses and you worked in a team, especially with Jesper at your side. He never mentioned your anxiety, but nothing slipped past Kaz. He definitely knew even before he had witnessed the full effect of it, and you had noticed long ago how he tended to keep you off of jobs that might cause you to panic.

“I see the signal from Nina.” Jesper said, eyes on a flash of light coming from a window up the street. “Get ready.”

“Born ready.” You smirked.

“I’ve been rubbing off on you. I’m not sure I like what I’ve created.” He commented, and you rolled your eyes.

“Distraction time, Jes.” You said, bursting a capsule of fake blood between your teeth and slamming another one against you chest before stumbling out of the alleyway. Your nice, white shirt now had a fresh red stain, blood running down you chin, and you looked just like a well-to-do tourist who had run into the wrong crowd.

“Help!” You heard Jesper shout in Zemini right behind you, and eyes began to turn in your direction. “We’ve been attacked!”

“Somebody get help!” You followed up in a fake Zemini accent, which Jesper had earlier remarked upon as being scarily accurate. It was right then that the stadwatch patrol that you had been sent out to distract in the first place rounded the corner. “Guards! Help!”

The stadwatch turned to the source of the commotion, and rushed immediately over to you. That was something that they wouldn’t do if you were dressed in your regular Barrel attire.

“In Ghezen's name, what happened?” One of them exclaimed. Jesper began rambling in Zemini, doing a very good job of acting frantic with his hand on the tailored bruises around his eye and over his cheek. You caught a glimpse of Kaz emerging out of the next street down, completely unnoticed thanks to your distraction.

“Do you speak Kerch?” A guard asked you after being unable to get anything helpful out of Jesper.

“Yes, yes I speak Kerch.” You answered, straining your voice as if you were in pain. “They came out of nowhere, attacked us and stole our things.”

The guard reached out to move your shirt, and you let out a scream of pain to deter him. It worked and he jumped back, eyes wide and afraid.

“We need to get you to a medik.” He said quickly, and you nodded. You turned to Jesper and recited the Zemini sentence that you had practiced all morning, just incase an onlooker happened to actually be Zemini.

“Give me some help, I can't walk like this.” You said. He nodded, shaking his arm out of the grip of the other stadwatch guard and reaching out to pick you up. Practically effortless with all that farmer’s strength.

“Alright, follow us.” The guard said, but as he took the first step there was a deafening bang and a huge plume of smoke from the street around the corner.

Perfect timing, Wylan.

Panic overtook the street, the stadwatch guards turning their attention from you to the smoke rising over the buildings. They started shouting to the people around, trying to keep them calm.

Another blast sounded, and now people were running. Jesper set you down, and you patted over the pistol concealed in your jacket just in case.

“Let’s get moving.” Jesper said, as quietly as he could for you to still hear him over the commotion. You nodded, your heart beating fast as people stormed past you. You didn’t like big crowds, and there were more people here than it had initially appeared. There was a handkerchief in your pocket, and you took it out and wiped the fake blood off of your face.

The two of you began following the flow of the crowd, when suddenly there was a flash of light and a cloud of dust flew towards you as another blast went off up ahead.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

Your heart jumped and your breathing immediately quickened as the people who had been running that way now pressed back towards you. Jesper grabbed your arm, seeing the panic that was beginning to fill your eyes. The explosions weren’t creating any damage, just a loud bang and a lot of smoke, but these people didn’t know that and they wanted to get as far from them as possible as fast as possible.

“We’ll go around.” Jesper said, tugging on your arm to pull you after him as he made a beeline for the nearest alleyway.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you let Jesper drag you through the alley onto the next street across, which was just as crowded with panicked people. He pulled you along behind him as he wove through the crowd towards the rendezvous point, your mind spinning and your chest tight. You didn’t even realise that you were there until he pushed you back against a wall and moved you to sit down on the ground.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me.” He said, a firm hand on your shoulder. “Deep breaths, okay?” He turned to look over his shoulder at Kaz and Wylan. “What happened? Why was there a third explosion?”

“Things didn’t go exactly according to plan.” Kaz replied. “We had to prolong the distraction to get away.”

“I always keep extra equipment on me; I gave it to Inej and told her to set it off further up from the bridge if we ran into trouble. It was the best option we had.” Wylan added.

“Right, well, tell that to Y/N's anxiety.” Jesper huffed.

“Jesper, you and Wylan have to keep going.” Kaz said.

“What? Look at Y/N, I’m not leaving-"

“Now, Jesper, or all of this has been for nothing.”

“But Y/N was supposed to come with us.” Wylan fretted.

“You’ll make it work. Now go, I’ll deal with Y/N.”

“This is my best friend, Kaz.” Jesper said, leaving your side to approach Kaz, practically squaring up to him. “This isn’t a problem you can solve with planning and scheming, this is a serious human issue and you don’t have a great record with those.”

“I have it handled, Jesper.” Kaz responded firmly.

“Go, Jesper.” You spoke up, elbows rested on drawn up knees, your chest rising and falling heavily. You nodded. “I’ll be fine.” He looked at you, concern on his face, but eventually sighed and nodded back.

“Alright.” He said, stepping back over and lightly patting your head comfortingly. “Come on, merchling.”

Jesper and Wylan moved on to the next step of the plan, leaving you and Kaz alone. He took a seat on the floor against the wall opposite you in the small space, his bad leg outstretched in front of him and his cane resting across his lap. You looked at him, the edges of your vision still blurry.

“I apologise for not warning you ahead of time.” He said after a moment. “I should have accounted for the fact that such a surprise would have a negative impact on you.”

Kaz was generally cold – unaffectionate and pragmatic – but you had a suspicion that he’d always secretly had a soft spot for you. He was considerate of your feelings; he was even almost nice to you when nobody else was around. You quite liked the Kaz that you got to see. It was different to the Kaz that Jesper always complained about.

“What could have possibly given the impression that I was impacted negatively?” You managed to joke, but you choked on your laugh as your body desperately tried to fill your lungs.

“Hey, look at me.” Kaz said before you could start hyperventilating again. “Put your knees down, open up your chest.” You complied, and your body thanked you for the action as some of the strain in your chest alleviated.

“Sometimes I wonder why the hell I put myself in these situations.” You panted.

“I did warn you against it, but you seemed determined to follow in Jesper's footsteps.” He replied. “You’ve made a pretty good go of it regardless. Hold your breath for a second, you’re still breathing too fast.”

You followed the instruction, drawing a deep breath and holding it in your chest for a few seconds, and when you let it out your breathing was slower.

“This is stupid.” You muttered. “I should be over this by now, it’s pathetic.”

“No it’s not.” Kaz said plainly. “It’s something you’ve experienced for a long time, it’s not just going to go away.”

“No one else let’s their problems get in the way on a job.”

“That’s not true, it just happens differently. You still have some fake blood on your face by the way.” It would be dry by now, no point trying to wipe it off with a handkerchief, so you simply shrugged.

“What does that mean, ‘it happens differently’?”

“If you pay close attention you’ll notice.” He answered vaguely. “Though, I know you’re very aware of the hurdle that the gambling halls pose to Jesper. That’s caused some trouble on jobs in the past.” You chuckled lightly, nodding in agreement.

You sat in silence for a while, focused on evening out your breathing. Kaz wasn’t good at dealing with emotions so you would expect that he wouldn’t be very good at dealing with your panic attacks, but actually his straightforward approach was pretty effective. Maybe his voice was just so commanding that even your anxiety couldn’t help but do what he said.

Generally, Kaz acted like the panic attack wasn’t happening. Just like today, other than to give you an instruction to calm you down he would just talk to you like he normally would. It was usually helpful, a good distraction or something like that.

There was one time, however, that Kaz had been more worried about you than you had thought was possible. It hadn’t been on a job, just a normal night at the Crow Club. You had been trying to drag Jesper away from the cards table when a fight had broken out. Being a member of the Dregs, and so technically a sort-of employee of the gambling hall, you had stepped in to try and break it up.

You weren’t intimidated by the fact that one of the men was at least twice your size, you had held your own against that before, and knowing that there was security that would step in soon had you assured that all would be fine. But when you placed a hand on one of the men’s shoulder – not the big guy, one of the other men in the fight – to try and stop him from going towards the man he had decided was his enemy, he had turned on you with such speed that you had no chance to defend yourself before his hand closed around your neck.

Your memory was a little spotty from that point on. You remembered being slammed against a wall, maybe even lifted off the ground. Jesper drew his gun, and you’re sure that if shooting customers wasn’t so frowned upon that he wouldn’t have hesitated to fire.

It didn’t last long. His outburst had effectively ended the fight that had been taking place and turned the attention of every assisting party to you. The man holding you had been taken down by a few swift hits from the hulking Dregs member that Kaz liked to have as security, and by that point Dirtyhands himself had been drawn out of his little office in the back by the commotion.

To hear Jesper tell it, it was like your body hadn’t realised that your airway was no longer being compressed and you just weren’t really breathing. Kaz had instructed Jesper and the security guard to get you up and into the back office before demanding an explanation from the person closest to him.

You didn’t see Kaz break the man’s hand with his cane, but you remember hearing the scream.

Once it was just you, Kaz and Jesper in the office, Kaz’s demeanor changed instantly. Not that you were really cognizant enough to notice right away, but Jesper wouldn’t shut up about it for a little while. What had seemed, while out on the floor of the gambling hall, just to be a Barrel boss squashing a disruption to his business and doling out payback on behalf of a friend turned into seething rage, which in turn became a constant look of concern as he intently watched Jesper coax you to start breathing properly.

Jesper had business to attend to later that night, so after a while it was just you and Kaz sat in the office. He fetched you a glass of water and sat with you until you were feeling better, never taking his eyes off of you. You had told him about your anxiety, but until then he had never seen it in full effect.

Since that day he had been more in tune with that part of you, learning how to tell when you were having a bad day and remembering what kinds if things made you panic. If he caught you when your anxiety was spiking he would stay and just talk to you. It was nice of him.

“Sit up straight.” Kaz said, and you were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt the tip of his cane pressing gently against your shoulder. You realised how far you had curled in on yourself and leaned back against the wall. Kaz had drilled it into your head that opening up your posture would help you breathe better, but sometimes you needed reminding anyway. “How are feeling?”

“Better.” You mumbled with a slight nod.

“How are the edges of your vision? Still fuzzy?”

“A tiny bit.” You answered, trying not to smile at the fact that he remembered how your vision went fuzzy when you had a panic attack. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you bother with me?” The question had been weighing on your mind for a long time, but in the past few weeks it had felt like it had been pressing for you to actually ask. You thought that Kaz liked you, but at the same you couldn’t think of a reason for that to be true.

“What do you mean by that?” Kaz asked, his head tilting a minuscule amount and his brow furrowing ever so slightly in curiosity.

“I mean, why do you keep me around? Why do you bring me on jobs? Why do you bother learning how to take care of me? Maybe at first it was for Jesper's sake but surely that can’t be the case now, so why?”

Kaz watched you for a moment, folded his hands in his lap and cleared his throat.

“You’re a valuable member of the team.” He answered matter-of-factly. “You work well with others, you’re a fast learner, you seem to genuinely enjoy being a member of the Dregs most of the time. As for why I’ve learned to take care of you, well, what kind of a leader would I be if I didn’t? You know me, I like to know everything that there possibly is to know when it comes to my business and my team.”

“Right.” You nodded. “That makes sense.”

“You don’t like that answer.”

“What?”

“I know you well enough to know what your face does when you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. What is it that you wanted me to say?” His question made you feel suddenly quite embarrassed, and you averted you eyes with a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that maybe you actually liked me. You know, as a friend.” You mumbled. You glanced back at Kaz long enough to see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

“If I told you that I liked you, would it make you feel better?” He asked. He wasn’t being sarcastic or mocking you, but you still became even more embarrassed.

“Forget about it, it doesn’t matter. I’m feeling much better now so we should probably start moving-"

“Y/N.” Kaz interrupted, and you froze mid-motion of standing up. “I do like you, but I don’t have friends.”

He moved to stand up, and you finished getting to your feet. You watched him use his cane as leverage to get up off the floor, and if it had been anyone else but Kaz you would have offered a hand to help him up.

“You do too have friends.” You replied with a tiny smile. “You, Jesper and Inej are a trio of best friends if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I thought Jesper was your best friend.”

“People can have more than one best friend, Kaz.”

“The more friends you have, the more leverage your enemies have against you. That’s why I don’t have any.” He stated, taking the first step. You assumed that you would be heading to where he was supposed to meet Nina and Matthias. He was late – just how late you weren’t sure, the passage of time alluded you during panic attacks – but they probably weren’t all too worried.

“I think you just tell yourself that we’re not your friends so that you feel better about having a weak spot.” You said, teasing slightly. “Do you like me as much as you like Jesper?”

“I like you more than Jesper. You’re less of a thorn in my side.”

“Aw, Kaz! That’s so sweet.” You smiled. He scoffed.

“I take it you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask you one more question?” You inquired, and Kaz sighed before humming an agreement. “Do you maybe like me for a different reason than that I’m less annoying than Jesper?”

There was a beat of silence, and Kaz inhaled.

“I enjoy having you around.” He answered vaguely, but you could see in his eyes in the sidelong look that he gave you that it was deeper than that. You smiled, satisfied and not needing to push.

“Good. Me too.” You muttered, and the two of you continued walking, side by side.

[sw-a-mpie]

(Here's a snippet of a Ghostface/Reader fic I'm writing. I haven't seen any/many of a killer/slasher reader before, so I'm gonna try my hand at one. The readers killer name is Pit vipers as their main method of killing is through injection/needles)

Feeling the body slump against you, a moment of peace makes itself known in your chest.

While the man in your grasp had put up quite a struggle, it only made the cyanide work all the quicker. Mixing with his blood, his body at war with itself as he tried to jerk himself away from you.

Internally giving yourself a pat on the back, pocketing the now useless syringe into your fanny pack; you manage to only twitch in surprise when the sound of slow clapping fills the empty alleyway.

Dumping the body from your grasp and turning around, you tense as a someone in the goofiest looking mask audibility tsks at you.

"Didn't know people did that in real life." Were the first words you spoke, the gas mask giving your voice a nasily tone. The person tilted their head at you, either in curiosity or sizing you up.

Cause no one walks around in a mask like that, wearing all black and looking as if they'd just stepped off the runway for Halloween costumes...if they weren't looking for a fight.

Or a chat, either was fine with you.

In the back of your head, you knew Elias was waiting for you at point central. Your...friend wouldn't want you engaging with Mr. Funny man that was...oh, starting to talk. Right. Focus time.

"My, my." He started, it was definitely a he...or a she who was using a crappy voice modulator. Maybe Elias...No! Focus!

"That was beautiful. You really are a master of your craft, but I already knew that, Pit Viper." The man seems almost joyous at meeting you, even with the fact of the very apparent body in the room. Alleyway.

Whatever.

Whoever this guy was, he spoke with his hands, almost animated in a way.

Your eyes roved his body, looking for obvious weapons; hidden or not. Because the man before you was...short. Maybe by a few inches. 3 tops.

"-nd I've seen you all over the paper! Quite the rapt you've made! And 67 known kills, but I bet you've been busier than that over 6 years." The guy states in a know it all voice, gleeful despite the cracking of his voice.

Oh....that's how many you've killed? Seems like more.

You really have to go now, because as much as hiding in dank, dark places was fun, you weren't that far from the bar and you didn't want to be seen just yet by some drunks.

But before you can think about sneaking away, the man starts to walk towards you. Quiet steps, no shifting of his clothes could be heard. He walked with purpose, and if you were to rip off the mask, you were sure you'd find eyes similar to yours.

Crazed.

Manic.

You took a step back, just one as he squared up to you, his white mask almost glowing in the moonlight.

He smelled like cheap bathroom cologne, strong enough to smell even with the gas mask.

It made your nose itch, but you held back a sneeze as the man tilted his head again.

"I was looking for a little more conversation out of you, but I'll just make myself clear." You could feel the greasy smirk on his lips.

"Better live it up on having your face plastered on the front page, because I'm planning on ripping it out from under your feet; sooner or later."

[fallout4-reacts]

Sole who cries in their sleep (with romanced)

MacCready : MacCready was lying on his bedroll, staring at the night sky, when he became aware of Sole crying on the other side of the campfire. He sat back up, a worried expression on his face, and returned his gaze to the spot where they were resting. Their sleep expression was one of intense sorrow, and tears streamed down their cheeks.

He gave them a little shoulder shake. "Wake up, boss. You're having a terrible dream."

When Sole's eyes eventually opened, they were filled with confusion and fear as they looked up at MacCready. “Mac?" They were crying so hard that their voices were raspy when they asked, "What... what's going on?" Sole knows that with Mac, there's very little chance of a threat appearing too close, so they're perplexed as to why the mercenary wakes them awake.

"You were crying in your sleep," Mac replied, before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sole hesitated for a second, but after looking at the compassionate ratface who had recently shared his own concerns with them, they decided to start talking. "It was... just a nightmare," they stated. "Concerning the Institute and Shaun," their voice shaking as they mention their kid.

"I'm very sorry. That must have hurt a lot. I'm not sure how I'd react if Duncan were taken away from me," Mac mumbled through clinched teeth, his voice trembling with the intensity of his own emotions.

If romanced, MacCready would continue to console them, embracing them tightly and vowing to stay up and talk until they felt better. He'd then go a step further, bending in to offer them a delicate kiss.

"I love you." He said it while looking at them, tears welling up in his eyes. "You're worth more to me than any cap, and I only want to see you happy. You know what? We'll get your son back, it's a promise."

Sole smiled weakly as they reached up to softly pat MacCready's cheek. “Okay. Thank you very much, Mac. You are the most amazing everything that has ever happened in my life, since the bomb, and possibly before."

MacCready's heart was overflowing with feelings of love and pride. He was aware that being with the Sole Survivor meant taking on all of their suffering and fears, as well as their triumphs and happiness, but he was convinced that as long as they had each other, they would be able to face any obstacle.

Piper : Piper had always been a light sleeper, so when she heard faint sobbing coming from the other bed in the room, she awoke. She sat up and looked over to Sole, who was moaning loudly in their sleep.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said quietly as she crawled up to their side. "Blue. You're having a bad dream."

Sole straightens up in their nappy and reaches for their weapon, but Piper runs ahead of them and takes the gun away from them.

"Wow! There is no danger in sight!"

"Piper? What exactly is going on?"

"You were crying in your sleep," she said at them. "Honestly, given everything you've been through, I don't find it surprising, but I couldn't let you mope in either... whatever it was you were rehashing."

"Hm. It was simply a nightmare. Sorry for waking you up."

"Come on, isn't that what friends are for?" For better and worse, I guess. Would you like to talk about it?"

Sole examines her for a long time, perhaps hesitantly, before shaking their heads. "No. I don't want it to be on the front page of the newspaper tomorrow morning."

The reporter has been hurt but she chuckles nervously to alleviate her suffering. "Come on, I know I'm a little... intense, but I'd never expose your privacy to the four winds!"

"You've already done it. Remember? It was the interview."

"It was entirely voluntary!" Piper is fuming with annoyance now, and she reaches into her pockets for a cigarette. She understands that her relationship with Sole is built from above and below, but she just wants to help and is upset by her friend's insinuations. Sole sighs deeply, nervously rubbing their neck.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to be that cruel. I… I guess I'm still a little drowsy to speak well."

Piper puffs on her cigarette.

"I was dreaming about Shaun,” they finally confess. “I was dreaming about Kellogg taking him away."

The wide smile that spills over Piper's lips without her being able to contain it tells a lot about her happiness that her friend open to her. She puts down her smoke and wraps her arms around her pal, squeezing them hard against her. "Here you go.” Then she realizes what he said. “Oh… Oh my goodness! I’m sorry. It's awful. I'm very sorry."

“Oh no, only one of us can be sorry at a time,” Sole laughs.

"Ah, Blue, poor Blue." She continues to rock her pal till they are completely relaxed. Piper's nerves are completely spent from not crying in front of her friend's distress, so when Sole eventually falls asleep, she moves away a little, crouches on the ground, and cries for a solid half hour.

If they were romanced, Piper and Sole would have shared the same bed. Piper will then hold them tightly and keep them against her during their conversation, perhaps placing a kiss on their face or in their neck as proof of her love for them.

"Blue, I love you. I'm here for you," she murmured, her eyes welling up. "We'll get through this together, okay?"

The Sole Survivor smiled softly, reaching up to wipe a strand of Piper's hair away from her face. "Okay. Thank you very much, Piper. I'm not sure what I'd do without you."

Piper tucks herself into Sole's chest, and the two fall back to sleep together, providing profound solace to one another.

Sole's reappearance as Nuka World's Overboss after months

I accidentally added a MacCready while I had already doing it for this one. As a result, this is a different Mac reaction than the original post, and it will not be included on it. Just for here (I thought it would be a shame to delete it)

MacCready : He eventually succeed tracking down his previous employer's trail. Not that he was concerned about their disappearance; Sole is a grown-up, but Hancock gave him a little sum of caps to help him find them. However, he doesn't like what he discovers. While observing them attach a slavery necklace around the neck of a raider at Quincy Quarry, he keeps Sole in his scope.

When Sole leaves after cleaning the rest of the house, MacCready discreetly follows them for a bit before they stop and turn in his direction.

"I know you're there," the survivalist exclaimed.

He no longer feels the need to hide himself. He is aware that if Sole wishes to eliminate him, they may easily do so. Furthermore, it's overdue for an explanation. He approaches the other, his riffle slung over his shoulder and hung from a shoulder strap on his back.

"I should have known you would eventually find me."

"Did you want us to find you or not?" Mac inquires.

"Depends."

Sole takes the time to detail their former partner before shrugging their shoulders.

"It depends if you're sent to kill me or to talk to me."

MacCready appears to pause for a moment before sighing.

"Honestly, my objectives don't matter. Hancock asked me to locate you. It's done. I admit that I didn't like what I saw, but my contract doesn't require me to get rid of a slaver."

His counterpart sneers with disdain.

Straight out with the fancy words: slaver! It's nothing more than a raider that I give to another raider troop."

"So you're now working for the Raiders? Completely reassuring."

"I don't work for the Raiders. I'm Nuka-World's Overboss."

There is a moment of silence as they glance at each other, then Mac nods.

"As I already stated, it isn't up to me. We wouldn't be having this conversation if I'd been paid to kill you."

"I think I could just make you disappear right now."

He was terrified of them. He knew that the talk would be cut short after seeing his old boss become a slave owner and now knowing that they were at the helm of a group of raiders, but he scoffed scornfully.

"You may give it a shot. But you'll have to explain to Hancock why I'm not reporting back to him."

It appears to destabilize the other. Between their teeth, they murmur "Hancock." They then switch their focus to the shooter. "Good. Inform Hancock that I will be waiting for him at Nuka-World. It's located east of Sunshine Tidings. He should have no trouble finding it. You don't have to tell him everything you saw, but... tell him I need him."

Mac appears to think about it, but when Sole provides him with a purse containing 200 capsules, he pockets it and taps the brim of his hat to greet them.

"It's a pleasure to do business with you." He turns to take the path to Goodneighbor, but not before adding one more thing. "Just know that if I ever see you putting a necklace on someone who isn't a raider, I'm not going to argue; I'm going to shoot."

"Then you might better hurry up," informs the other.

Piper : "Piper Wrigth is on the verge of solving a new Commonwealth mystery. Sole says Survivor has been missing for a few weeks, and our local celebrity, the private detective Nick Valentine, has been on their trail for nearly as long. Sturges informed me that Nick travelled to Sunshine Tidings after hearing a radio broadcast, so I'll tracks him back there."

Piper taps her lip with her finger as she holds the recording for a bit.

"I'm not sure what's going on, but hey! This isn't the first time I've been on the front lines of uncovering the Commonwealth's dark secrets!"

The reporter puts her tape recorder away, adjusts her bag's shoulder straps, and then, after a final gesture to greet Preston at his guard station, she heads towards Sunshine. She gets in sight of the colony shortly before the end of the afternoon, and she is promptly informed of what the detective found before her. East. She must travel east.

She discovered the Nuka-World installations just as the sun was about to set on the horizon.

"It's amazing" she begins with her recording. "A genuine historical relic just a short distance from a Minuteman settlement. There appears to be a lot going on behind the walls of this Nuka-World. I'm going to try to sneak in because there are so many raiders nearby."

Since the gangs appear to be making their way slowly towards their neighbourhoods, Piper surprisingly have it easy to infiltrate up to the market, where a doctor gives her the latest developments. This time, the journalist doesn't to turn on her recording device. If the Mackenzie woman is correct, things are going much worse than Piper could have imagined. But she won't believe it just yet. She must discover the facts without allowing her emotions to take over. She immediately arrived at the Fizztop Grille and took the lift right into the Overboss quarters, following the directions that she was given.

"Blue," she says softly.

She sees a movement to her right in the darkness, then someone lights a lamp and painfully gets out of their bed.

"Piper?"

"Oh!  Finally! I found you!"

As they approach her, Piper rushes to Sole, but when she tries to jump to their neck, they raise their hand and stare at her coldly.

"Remain where you are. What do you expect from me?"

"Blue? But… I came to save you!"

Piper is moved to tears by the cynical laughter of the person she believed was her friend. When Sole moves out of her line of sight to show her what is hanging from a Power Armour rack, she screams in horror.

"How could you?" she managed to say between sobs.

"He deserved it! Are you also here to get rid of me?"

Piper can't take her gaze away from her dear buddy Nick, or what's left of him. His coat is riddled with bullet impact marks, and a coolant puddle has formed beneath him. His eyes are shut and the hat has vanished. He is so miserable that the journalist feels her heart breaking into pieces in her chest.

"Are you coming here to kill me?" Sole keeps on ask.

"No," Piper replied with more vehemence than she felt she was capable of. In reality, she is extremely demolished, but her sharp mind has already made a decision. She wants to take Nick home no matter what happens to Sole, and she won't be able to do so if she is slain.

"Good. It would have been quite unpleasant for me to have to... terminate our friendship."

Piper clenches her teeth tightly, trying with all her will to remain calm.

"I never said we were still friends. I'm not sure what happened to you, but..." she swallows hard. "I'm leaving. I'll go back and never return. You won't hear from me again."

"If that's what you want," they sigh, unconcerned.

"But I'm bringing him back with me."

Sole lets out a cynical laugh.

"I'd really like to see you do it."

"You will see me and help me!" Piper had no idea she possessed such determination, but she is determined to see her goal through to achievement. "You're going to give me a brahmin so I can bring his body back to Diamond City. Whatever happened between you two, he was your friend; he helped you, he supported you, and you owe him that!"

She expected to have to fight claws and nails, and she expected Sole to protest vehemently and act sadistically. But they groan deeply, as if they are entirely broken.

"You know, that's not what I was expecting about. But they," he says, gesticulating towards the park below, "would have ripped me apart if I had shown weakness. Nick failed miserably on that one. He should have been more discrete. Things could have turned out differently."

When he looks at their old acquaintance, she can see his sincerity.

"You are free to take him. We'll just have to say you paid his weight in capsules. I'll arrange for his transport. While you prepare, you can roam around Nuka-World in peace. Nobody will bother you. That is something I will personally ensure."

Piper approaches Sole again, and this time they do not push her away. She takes their hand in hers and looks them in the eyes.

"You still have a chance. Leave with me."

Sole sighs and shakes his head.

"No. I'm not going back. I abandoned everyone who had put their trust in me. Right now, this is where I belong. But please make certain that no one follows in Nick's footsteps. I'll never have the strength to kill another of you."

There isn't much else to say. Piper recognises that what was will never be again, and the body of this wretched synthetic she brings with her to Diamond City is proof of that. She'll travel to Amari; she'll do everything she can to save Nick, but she already knows she'll never be able to bring Sole back.

And, for the first time, she does not consider writing an article.

Sole who still sees feral ghouls as human

Piper : "Hehe, Charlie! Yes! Yes, fantastic!"

Piper takes a hesitant step back towards the door, determined to leave the house without losing a single piece. Sole looks up at her, happily smiling.

"He does, and he enjoys your articles! He's also a talented poet; do you want to see his latest work?"

While the monster quietly chews a baseball, the journalist swallows slowly, her gaze fixed on the ghoul.

"You know what? You'll deliver all of this to me at the Puclick Occurrency. I'll gladly read them, and I'll even offer you some old newspapers to give to your friend. But I...really need to get going. I have... a friend on fire, and, oh..."

"A friend on fire? Piper, you're so funny."

"Yes, eheh," Piper chuckles. "I am a true clown. It's all me! Anyway, bye!"

She rushes out of there without looking back, only to run into a frightened Preston in the street.

"Hey, Garvey!"

"Piper."

"Did you... come to see Sole?"

"I...think she already has a...guest."

"Eh, indeed."

"Truly, truly..."

Piper approaches, peering over her shoulder.

"Do you think... something burned on the balcony?"

The Minutemen sigh deeply, letting go of the mask.

"I think the entire attic turned to dust."

Do you not write for Piper? I don't see her in your reacts

Aaaah! Poor Piper! I completely forgot.... shame on me

I must correct

At the same time, I had forgotten MacCready in the first, if I remember correctly

I’m going to go to the keyboard right now

Thank you very much

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Ok, so I might as well post the first part now since I already have it. Fun fact, it's four pages in a google docs. I'll give you the second part as soon as I'm done writing it.

Tommy glanced at Cedric questioningly. The older teen just waved him on, leaving the trophy open. Tommy shot another glance at Harry, eyebrow raised. “We’re all champions,” the dark haired teen said. “Besides, you and I never put our names in the Goblet. I don’t see the harm in letting him take the cup.” “No, no,” Cedric said with a small shake of his head. “You two have won basically every challenge so far. You deserve the trophy more than I do.” “Together then,” Tommy said, shifting Harry’s weight and reaching his hand out to Cedric. “After all, we are all Hogwarts champions.” After a moment of hesitation, Cedric accepted the hand, and together the three of them limped towards the Triwizard Cup.

Once they reached it, a glance passed between the three of them, and slowly, they reached out for the Cup. As soon as they did, Tommy felt a sharp tug in his belly button and he was yanked forward. He felt his hand slipping from Harry’s, and he held on tighter. Faintly, he thought he heard Cedric’s voice calling them. Then just as suddenly as it had stopped, the dizzying tug stopped, and dumped Cedric, Harry, and Tommy into a damp field of grass.

It took Tommy a moment to regain his bearing. He was still disoriented, but he saw a small hill rising to his left, dotted with tall, rounded stones. It took him a moment to realize they were graves. He was in a cemetery. His brow furrowed. “Where the hell are we?” he asked, helping Harry to his feet. “I dunno,” Cedric said confusedly. The teen was disoriented, but he seemed to have more of his wits about him than Harry did. “I think someone turned the Cup into a portkey.” “Well, obviously,” Tommy said, hand dipping into his inventory for his sword. “Still doesn’t tell us where we are though.” Suddenly, a small, snake-like voice croaked out, “Kill the spare.”

“Avada Kedavra!” A bolt of sickly green light shot out from behind the graves. It hit Cedric square in the chest before Tommy had even so much as a chance to cry out a warning. The older teen dropped to the ground silently, a tangle of robes and limbs. Harry checked him over, but Tommy could tell by the paleness of his skin that he was already dead.

He drew his sword, but before he could find his enemy, a bolt of red light hit him, and he dropped his blade. Tommy fell to the ground frozen, and after a moment, Harry fell beside him. “Very good, Wormtail,” the same snake-like voice said. “Now, as we discussed.” Tommy heard footsteps, and then there was a small hand twisting into the back of his robes, nails digging into his skin. There was a soft grunt, and then his captor was dragging him across the damp grass. “Tommy,” Harry whispered, scared. “What do we do?”

Tommy’s mind was whirling, but he was frozen. He was frozen in place and at the mercy of Wormtail. There was nothing he could do. Not yet, at least. Suddenly, he was slammed up against something hard and rough. A small shockwave rang through his skull and dirty hands yanked his arms behind him. Coarse rope wrapped around his wrists. The stupify hex he had been hit with was wearing off by now, but he was already trapped. There was nothing he could do. He heard Harry hit the grave next to him with a small thud, and after a moment, he too, was helpless.

Wormtail yanked the teens’ wands from their robes and stuffed them into his pocket. For the first time, Tommy managed to get a good look at where he was. He was at the top of the hill. A mausoleum rose in front of him, a cauldron sitting at the base of the steps, a small bundle fo black cloth at the foot. Wormtail aimed his wand at the base of the cauldron, and flames erupted under its base. Sparks danced across the surface of the water, illuminating the grave in a ghostly white light.

Wormtail bent down and undid the bundle of cloth, lifting a small creature into the air. It was grotesque and only vaguely human shaped. It was the same size as a newborn child, but there was nothing innocent about it. Wormtail raised the thing above the cauldron and gently lowered it into the water. Tommy saw Harry murmuring a prayer under his breath. “Please let it have drowned. Please.” Tommy knew they weren’t that lucky though. He still whispered the prayer anyways.

Wormtail raised his wand slightly and began to recite a spell. “Bone of the father.” The ground at Harry’s feet cracked and greyish white dust floated up. “Unknowingly given.” Tommy craned his neck to see that Harry’s grave read “Tom Riddle.”

“Flesh of the servant,” Wormtail continued, voice beginning to shake. “W-willingly given.” From the fold of his robes, he drew a knife. The metal gleamed in the moonlight, and too late, Tommy realized what he was going to do. He turned away as Wormtail brought the knife down on his arm, and tried to ignore the sounds of metal cutting through muscle, skin, and bone.

Wormtail let out a single whimper of pain, but then he forced himself to his feet and lurched towards Tommy and Harry. The two teens scrambled back, but they had nowhere to go. Tommy’s eyes darted around the graveyard, looking for a solution, but Wormtail was too close. He raised his knife above his head, and Tommy braced for the blow. Instead, the point of the weapon dug into the skin of Harry’s forearm.

A jagged cut stretched from the boy’s elbow to halfway down his forearm, and Wormtail’s knife gleamed red. “Blood of the enemy, unwillingly given.” Wormtail’s voice shook with pain, but he held his knife steady as a drop of blood splashed into the cauldron. “You will resurrect your foe.”

The light of the cauldron suddenly turned to a dark, crimson red and sparks danced along the surface of the water. Wormtail dropped to the ground in a heap, clutching his arm to his chest. Tommy watched as the spell performed it’s magic, hardly daring to breathe.

Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the sparks were gone. White light filled the sky, turning night into day, and thick fog filled the air. From in the cauldron rose a slim figure, everything about it radiating wrongness. Everything in Tommy was screaming to run, but he was trapped. The figure spread its arms and said, “Wormtail.” It was the same snake-like voice as earlier. Wormtail whimpered, but he stumbled to his feet anyways. “Robe me,” the figure commanded. Wormtail grabbed the bundle of cloth and awkwardly slipped it over his master’s shoulder’s. The figure turned around and Tommy finally got a good look at his face.

It was flat, the eyes barely more than slits, nose flat and grotesque. He was pale, paler even than Cedric had been in death. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “Harry,” Tommy whispered, a note of fear beginning to creep into his voice. “Who is that?” “It’s him. He’s back. Lord Voldemort.”

Voldemort slithered over to Wormtail, who was now kneeling on the ground, sleeve of his robes covered in blood. The Dark Lord rested his hand gently on Wormtail’s head, and the man glanced up, pleading in his eyes. “Please, my lord. You-you promised.” “You’re arm, Wormtail,” Voldemort commanded. Wormtail began to extend his injured arm, but at his master’s sharp glance, he bared his other one.

Slowly, the Dark Lord reached for a dark mark that rested in the crook of his servant’s arm. As soon as he touched it, Wormtail doubled over in pain, and Harry cried out scar burning. “That should summon them,” Voldemort said. Then, he smiled. He turned and crept towards Harry and Tommy. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the boy who lived,” he greeted, cupping Harry’s chin in the palm of his hand. The teen’s breathing was shallow, face tight with pain. “How ironic that you’ll die tonight.” There was silence for a moment, but then he turned his attention to Tommy. “Ah, and the fiery friend.” Tommy’s jaw clenched in defiance, but his heart was hammering in his chest.

“Why are we here?” he spat, struggling against his bindings. He had an axe in his inventory, but it would do him no good if he was still trapped.

Voldemort shook his head as if he was explaining something to a child. It irritated Tommy. “Well, you see, I needed the famous Harry Potter here for the ritual. And now that he’s served his purpose, It’ll be my pleasure to finally finish what I started the night I killed his parents.”

Harry still looked terrified, but Tommy could see the hint of anger that crept into his eyes at the mention of his parents. “And I needed you,” Voldemort continued, digging his fingers into Tommy’s hair, and forcing the teen to meet his eyes. “Because a very special ally of mine requested your presence here tonight.” “W-what ally?” Tommy hated the fear in his voice. Voldemort laughed softly under his breath. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll understand in no time. After all, he seems quite certain the two of you know each other.”

Suddenly, a loud crack filled the air, and Tommy glanced up to see that a figure in dark robes and white skull-like mask had appeared in front of the mausoleum. “Ah,” Voldemort said, standing to greet the newcomer. “You’ve finally arrived.” More cracks filled the air, and a few seconds later, a total of fourteen death eaters stood in the clearing.

Voldemort examined them and no one dared utter a word. Then he rattled off a list of names that Tommy didn’t recognize as he surveyed his servants. He paused on one at the end of the line. “Lucius,” he greeted. “Wonderful that you could join us tonight.” The Death Eater shuffled awkwardly, but didn’t say anything. So Malfoy’s dad really was a Death Eater. Tommy couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid.

Voldemort’s gaze drifted towards the Death Eater at the back. They were different from the others; their cloak was bulkier and their mask sent a shiver of fear down Tommy’s spine. “So you came yourself,” Voldemort said, a hint of surprise to his voice. The Death Eater simply nodded. “So,” the Dark Lord said, now addressing the whole group. “You are my most loyal followers. How disappointing. Of course, there are those who are still trapped in Azkaban. And we mustn't forget our two fellows trapped at Hogwarts. But so few of you heeded my call. I must say, I was expecting more.” No one said anything.

After a moment, Voldemort said, “I have called you here today, not only to see that your master has been resurrected, but also so that you may finally see me triumph over the great Harry Potter.” An excited murmur ran through the group. “Wormtail,” Voldemort commanded. “Free the boy. Return his wand. It would be best to kill him in a duel. Prove once and for all that I am stronger than a pathetic teenager.”

Wormtail did as he was told, freeing Harry from his bindings, and shoving the boy’s wand roughly into his hand. Harry was clearly still disoriented, and Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if the teen’s scar was brutally painful. He was shaking, injured leg barely supporting his weight, but Harry looked every inch a match for Voldemort. He stepped towards his adversary, and the Death Eaters closed around the two, blocking them from sight. There was silence for a moment, but then two voices shouted “Avada Kedavra!”

Tommy’s fingers worked at the knots frantically, desperately trying to free himself. If only he could get his axe, he could help Harry. Finally, he felt the rope fall away and loosen. But before he could draw his weapon, the strange Death Eater stalked towards him, sword drawn. Tommy leapt to his feet, yanking his axe out of his inventory, and barely raising it in time to block the blow.

The metal of the Death Eater’s blade dug into the hilt of his axe, splintering the wood. Tommy twisted his own weapon, disentangling himself from the Death Eater’s blade. He stumbled back, dodging the Death Eater's thrust at his abdomen. He caught the edge of the sword on the crook of his axe, and twisted it upwards, knocking the sword from his opponent's grasp. He slammed the hilt of his axe into the Death Eater’s head, and the wizard stumbled back with a grunt.

Now the other Death Eater’s began taking notice and drew their wands. Before Tommy could do anything though, the air filled with phoenix song, and everyone turned to see a net of golden light surrounding Harry and Voldemort as they rose into the air.

Tommy took advantage of the distraction to make his way over to Wormtail, Quickly he searched the man’s robes for his wand, and sighed in relief once he found it. Unfortunately, the Death Eater’s had recovered from their shock, and stunning spells were flying past Tommy.

He dove to the ground as curses flew over him, firing back at as many targets as he could. At least three of his spells hit, and the volley of curses lessened just enough that Tommy was able to scramble to his feet.

He fired spells blindly as he sprinted down the hill, trying to reach the sword he had dropped. A jelly-legs jinx curse hit, and suddenly, he was tumbling head over heels down the hillside. He crashed into a gravestone, knocking it askew. Quickly, he cast the counter curse and scrambled to his feet. He braced himself for more spells, but none came. He turned his attention towards the top of the hill.

The phoenix sound had grown louder, and the light from Harry and Voldemort’s wand was blindingly bright. The two weapons were connected with a beam of golden light, and figures surrounded Harry, protecting him. Tommy couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Cedric among them. Suddenly, the net dissolved, and Harry dropped to the ground. “Harry!” Tommy cried out, worried.

Suddenly, the dark-haired teen came sprinting out from the mass of Death Eaters, green Avada Kedavra spells just barely missing him. “Harry!” Tommy called again, waving to him. Harry dove to the ground, rolling down the hill, trying to dodge the killing spells. Tommy scooped up his sword, and dropped his axe into his inventory. Behind him, the Triwizard cup began to glow blue. “Tommy!” Harry yelled frantically, skidding to a stop at his friend's side. “We need to get out of here!”

Tommy nodded, and pointed to the portkey. “It’ll take us home. But we need to go. Now.” Harry nodded. He grabbed the portkey, other hand resting on Cedric’s back. At the very least, the boy deserved to be brought back to his family. Tommy grabbed the other handle of the Cup, and suddenly, he was yanked forward. It was only then did he realize that the strange Death Eater’s robes were green. Green robes and a white mask.

-Gemstone Anon.

Oh my god. Okay. This is beautiful. I have read this like 10 times now. Oh my god. This is- This is brilliant.

[pugsfilms]

the streets are cold in tokyo | street racing au

so update: this fic was inspired by deciphered by @hoeneymilktea but it’s more street racer au over anything and does not follow the plot of deciphered at all.

please also go check out the street racer fanart that also inspired this fanfic by @aikk00​ ! they’re so talented and deserve the love!

here’s where i fail all the deciphered readers by saying this isn’t a y/n fanfic. y/n writers both amaze and terrify me and my writing style is simply not geared towards the y/n territory. so this fic will have a different cast of characters instead.

links to the cars i chose for the streets are cold in tokyo are here.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 12k+

Warnings/Tags: Oikawa Speaks Spanish, Post Time-Skip, Organized Crime, Aged-Up Characters, Blood and Violence, References to Drugs, References to Weapons, Angst If You Squint, Street Racing, Lots of Illegal Stuff, Mentions of Alcohol, References to Gambling

Summary: 

It's tough being a girl in a man's world.

Everyone knew that phrase; yet it took a whole meaning in the world of drug lords and gangsters. When women went missing or were killed regularly at the hands of criminals, it was hard to believe that any woman could find her place among murderers and scoundrels. It was no surprise that there was confusion when a set of young women had found their way into Tokyo's underground and could stand comfortably in a world driven by greed and deception. However, no one knew anything about them; who were they, why were they here, they were labyrinths of lies and secrets that were locked behind walls of stone.

"You should be careful with your cards. One wrong move and you could lose it all."

"There's a gun pointed at your head. How are you sure there isn't a bullet in the barrel?"

"I'm willing to take my chances."

*note! i am not a native speaker of spanish, french or korean! however, i did take french classes for four years and am currently learning korean. the spanish used in this fic is based off of the limited latin american spanish i was exposed to growing up with hispanic friends and the castilian spanish seen in the fic is based off of what my friends who took castilian spanish classes have taught me.*

*i apologize for any inaccuracies and am open to corrections and light criticisms of my use of any of the languages. i will use each of the languages sparingly unless i 100% know and understand the meaning of the words used.*

Chapter 1: Raining Diamonds

Tokyo was a dangerous place; the city was corrupt to its very core, with police turning a blind eye once they were paid a pretty penny and politicians became mere puppets to the real people in power: the Yakuza. The citizens lived blissfully unaware as these gangs ran their lives.

Most gangs ran small, local operations; it was either drug dealing, weapons trafficking, extortion, or human trafficking. Others dealt in money laundering. Amateurs were the only ones pulled off burglaries and heists; only an amateur would bring attention to himself.

The criminals who were the worst were the extremely rich. They always hid behind a façade of jewels and lace, their honey-laced words and filled pockets providing them with a golden cage of security.

There were several rules to keeping such a lifestyle:

No. 1: Trust no one.

Criminals lived based off of a power-hungry hierarchy, where your closest friend can quickly go from handing you a briefcase of money to stabbing you in the back with a knife. No one ever trusted anyone in a world of crime; you either killed them first or you got killed first. Your back should never be leaning against anything unless it’s an iron throne. Your eyes should always open in case someone decides they’d rather have you six feet under than alive. Always be alert and have your ears pricked up to hear any sound; you’ll be running a lot. Police and rival gangs will try and chase you down for the "right reasons". There is never a right reason.

No. 2: Money runs the world, not love.

Whoever came up with the phrase "money can’t buy everything" is a liar. Money was what ran the world of crime and you could get away with anything if you had money. Anyone in the government or law enforcement wouldn’t dare touch someone who could flash a pretty check in their face; so the more money you had, the more protection you had. Paper bills can’t protect you forever, but no one ever said gold couldn’t. Money was your safety blanket when it came to committing a crime.

No. 3: In order to be a criminal, you had to learn how to be reckless, not thoughtless.

There was no possible way for you to be a criminal without being a little reckless. Criminal activity thrives on human shamelessness. However, being reckless doesn’t mean being thoughtless. Being thoughtless is how people get thrown into jail; sure, they gained a reputation from it but it was no legacy. Those who had legacies were the ones who could live their days in infamy and have no shackles bound to their wrists. Find a cover and live by it. Calculate every move you make as you rise to the peak of urban society. Perhaps you’re the owner of a successful business. No one would ever assume the owner of something so successful would ever be a criminal. Successful people were happy people; a happy person didn’t have a reason to commit a crime.

No. 4: Always clean up after yourself.

That’s how most criminals are caught; they’re sloppy and don’t clean up after themselves. You don’t want to get caught now, do you? Always clean up after yourself; there will be no blood, no bodies, no receipts, nothing that can incriminate you. Weapons are to be hidden and transactions are to go quickly and silently. Don’t leave receipts or paper trails; pay by cash or valuables if you’re going to be dealing in the criminal world. 

And lastly, No. 5: Indulge yourself.

Just because you’re a criminal doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. Half of the appeal of a criminal is about being free to do as you please. Go to parties, make acquaintances, live life as you would. Sure, your money didn’t come cleanly but whose money ever did? Spend that money on pretty clothes, luxury cars, and lavish houses. However, be wary how you indulge yourself. Too quick of spending after a crime has been committed will make you suspicious. Work slowly when you’re rising up from the ashes of poverty. Rewards will come far quicker than you’ll expect.

So now that you know the game, are you ready to play? The gamble? Your life.

"You’ll have to wait, sir. The tables are booked as of the moment. We’ll have a table ready for you in a few minutes"

Light jazz music mingled in with the sounds of wheels spinning and coins dropping. Occasionally, the excited cries and screams of a lucky player would break through the calm and quiet of the casino.

"I’m actually here for the Midas package." The man gave the waiter a knowing look as the latter nodded.

"Of course. Follow me." The waiter held out his hand and took the man over to the back of the casino, where a small entrance stood, with two large security guards blocking the entrance.

"Midas package." 

The two guards pushed open the two doors and the waiter led the man past the metal detectors before going downstairs.

The level below the casino seemed even more luxurious than the building above it, with traditional Japanese architecture used to set it apart from its more modernized counterpart above. The ceilings were vaulted with wood while the walls were covered in murals of peacocks and phoenixes. Golden lanterns hung from the ceiling, surrounding a large crystal chandelier, casting a warm glow down upon the gamblers below. The floors were lined with dark wood and red carpet as fragile Qin vases and gold statues decorated the large space.

"Table three appears to be ready for you. Right this way."

The waiter led the man down to a table, where the dealer was shuffling his deck of cards. Quickly, the man was handed a drink, a cigar, and several women had joined his side to watch the game. It seemed like another night for the casino.

High above the gamblers below, sitting in a leather chair behind a closed oak door, was a young woman. The sound of chips falling and machines rolling had become background noise to her as she looked through a stack of papers, her brow creased as she frowned.

"Ms. Mitsuma?" Her eyes flickered up to the woman standing at the door, who was clutching a tablet to her chest. "The Midas Lounge is full now. Should we open up The Neptune Lounge next?"

She took in a small breath before returning to her work, her eyes moving back to the contract she had on her desk.

"Open it up. Open up the Jupiter Lounge if it runs out of space too." She replied.

"Yes, Ma’am. Oh, and one more thing?" She watched as the woman opened the door wider, revealing a girl with short brown hair, big diamond hoop earrings, and a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses. "Ms. Akira Somei is here to see you."

Yuri carefully placed down her papers as Akira came in taking a seat in the chair opposite to her, the door closing behind her to leave the two alone in peace.

"Yuri! How’s my best girl doin’?!" She grinned as Yuri gave her a soft smile.

"It’s been going okay. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be working at this hour?" She inquired, with Akira waving off the matter as she set her purse down on the desk.

"Psh, I only get on my knees if I feel like it. Lately, my ideal pool of clients has been running dry. I think I’ll stick to my other hobbies for the time being. Speaking of other hobbies, are you coming to the race tonight? It’s gonna be one of the biggest in Tokyo." Akira imparted, making Yuri purse her lips as she thought about her friend’s offer.

"I don’t know. I’m awfully busy at the casino as is." She shrugged, making Akira tsk as she wagged her finger.

"Come on, Yuri! You never come to any of the races. Besides, Cypher’s gonna be there." Akira said, her tone teasing the latter as Yuri rolled her eyes.

"That gives me even less incentive to come. I’d rather be here than around that prick." She scoffed as Akira sighed, smiling at the girl across from her as she shook her head. The girl was hopeless.

"You can come for me then. I’m going to be there tonight and I need my best friend. I know you like to race and you can let that pretty 911 of yours steal the show again." Akira suggested as Yuri’s annoyance subsided, hesitating slightly. Akira smirked at her as Yuri took a deep breath and thought about her offer. She knew she had won when she mentioned showing off her car.

"Akira, I’m not even on the roster. How am I supposed to race?" She asked, resting her chin in her hand as she gave Akira an apprehensive look. Akira pulled a piece of paper out of her purse, placing it down on the desk for Yuri to see. It was the full roster for the race, complete with the names of the racers. Yuri’s eyes quickly landed on her name, which was in the slot to race against several other cars in the first race.

Yuri Mitsuma - Seijoh Brawlers

Ren Omimi - Inarizaki Bois

Nako Tsurugi - Nekoma Crew

Nishinoya Yuu - Karasuno Killers

Akinori Konoha - Fukurodani Squad

She looked at Akira with a raised eyebrow as she rested her chin on the back of her hand. Akira merely gave her a victorious smirk in response.

"Where are you? I thought you were racing?" She asked, giving her an apprehensive frown as she searched the paper for her friend’s name. Akira gave her a bright grin as she shook her head.

"That’s the surprise! You’re racing for me instead!" Akira giggled as Yuri’s expression changed to shock. Her eyes widened as she was just about to tell her off when the latter stopped her. "And no refusing because the race is tonight and there’s no way I’m winning against Nekoma or Inarizaki."

Yuri rubbed her temples as her face scrunched up in frustration. This was not how she was planning for her night to go. She gritted her teeth before taking a deep breath and relaxing her expression. She gave Akira a stern look as she picked up the office’s phone and dialed a number.

"Yes, Boss?" Her assistant’s voice rang bright and chipper on the other side.

"Rieko, watch the casino for me. I’m going out for a few hours. I should be back before 2 in the morning, so keep your eyes on things for now. No one enters my office, got it?"

"Yes, Boss. I’ll make sure everything is in order while you’re gone." She replied before Yuri ended the call and shook her head at Akira.

"Fine. I’ll come race this time." She sighed as she got up, dusting off her black leather jacket before grabbing her purse. She put on her large sunglasses, her heeled boots clicking against the wood floors as she walked out.

Akira squealed as she followed Yuri, scrambling after her as Yuri locked up her office. She tucked the keys into her purse as she looked up at the two guards standing at her door.

"I’m going out for a bit. Make sure no one gets in." She told them before walking away with Akira.

"By the way, Nako’s coming out today too." She smiled at Yuri scoffed, smiling wryly as she readjusted her black gloves.

"I’m aware. Of course she’d be coming out. That girl just loves to show off that Mercedes of hers." Yuri replied. The two girls headed to elevators, heading to the ground floor. They made their way over to a secret door behind the bar, which led down to Yuri’s personal garage. Akira’s white 1995 Suzuki Cappuccino was parked next to her three cars, looking a bit out of place next to the three foreign models. Akira headed over to her car as Yuri fished out a pair of keys from her bag.

"So, are you gonna ride in your Porsche today? Or are we taking one of your other cars out?" She asked as Yuri clicked a button on her keys and the lights of her 1997 Porsche 911 GT2 lit up.

"My Porsche has never let me down during a race, so we’re taking him back out for a spin." She said, patting the hood of her car before opening the door and swinging in. She started up the car, indulging in the harsh growl of the car before buckling up and driving out.

Yuri was familiar with the Tokyo street racing scene, having raced a few times. However, she was far too busy to attend most races, only going when she wanted to go out and have a little fun. She liked the thrill of street racing and she loved to show off her car. It was a one of a kind car and she deserved to show off what she had worked so hard to earn.

It was quarter till midnight when they finally arrived, with Yuri’s car catching the eyes of everyone at the meet up spot. Yuri rolled her car between a Honda Integra and a Mitsubishi 3000GT before climbing out, smirking at all the surprised expressions she was getting.

Two men, one with dark curls and another with pink hair, approached her, smiling as the one with the curls crossed his arms.

"Diamond. It’s been a while. We didn’t know you’d be racing with the Brawlers tonight." He said as she removed her sunglasses, scoffing as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Mattsun. Makki." She greeted them, smirking as she left them behind. The two gave her an astonished look as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. She walked over to a different pit, which was filled with red cars. She stopped when she reached a petite girl with long black hair, who was dressed in a tartan coat. Like Yuri, the girl stood out of place among the mini-skirts and cropped t-shirts with her rather modest, but elegant clothes, subtly distancing herself from the girls of the racing scene and establishing herself as a more refined breed of street racer.

"Fancy seeing you here, Nako Tsurugi." The girl turned around and smiled sarcastically the moment she saw Yuri.

"Yuri Mitsuma. Finally crawled out of your casino? I thought you were too busy swimming in gold to care about a street race. Welcome back." She said, holding out her hand as a greeting. Yuri shook it as she smirked.

"Just so you know, I’m beating your ass tonight. Enjoy third place while it lasts, Tsurugi. It suits you." She stuck out her tongue in between her grin as Nako grinned at the challenge.

"Winner gets ramen." Nako offered, getting a soft scoff before Yuri gave her hand a firm squeeze.

"Deal."

Yuri let go of Nako’s hand as she crossed her arms, shaking her head as she tucked her tongue into the hollow of her cheek.

"And I thought I was the one with a casino. What’s up with you making deals?" She asked as Nako smiled coyly.

"I’m a business woman, Mitsuma. Making deals is part of my job." She replied. Just then, a girl with light brown hair ran up behind Nako, clutching a tablet. She stood slightly taller than Nako, which was exacerbated by the high heels she was wearing.

"Nako, we just got an incoming offer from a potential client down in Kyoto. They’re willing to meet up at the port in a few weeks to buy a whole shipment." She informed the raven haired girl, whose mouth twisted into an uncertain frown.

"Have their info run through our databases. I’ll look into it later." She said, getting a nod as the other girl noted the information down. Yuri’s smile softened as the girl turned over to her, giving her a small wave and a sweet smile.

"Sakura Inochi. It’s nice to see you again." She said, bowing her head in acknowledgement as Sakura nodded.

"It’s nice to see you as well, Yuri. You look wonderful." She grinned, giggling as Yuri’s smile widened. "Excuse me, but I have to attend to something."

Sakura walked away, a cellphone in hand as she dialed a number. Yuri’s eyes followed Sakura as she walked over to a different pit, where a tall man with white and black hair had pulled her into his arms.

"I still don’t know how you managed to convince that sweet girl to come work for you. She’s an angel." Yuri commented as Nako nodded in agreement.

"The poor thing needed the help; I did what I could. I gave her a new life in exchange for her loyalty. Simple as that. I could say the same for your Rieko. That girl’s even younger that Sakura; she’s got far more potential and yet she’s working for you." Nako stated, her eyes diverting down to the silver rings on her fingers.

"Tsurugi!" Nako grimaced at the sound of her name being called out, sighing as a tall man with dark, messy hair approached her from behind. He threw an arm over her shoulder, giving her a lazy grin as he looked down at her.

"Whatcha doin’ here all by yourself, Short Stuff? Race is gonna start soon." He drawled, making Nako roll her eyes as she gingerly plucked his arm off of her.

"Hands off the merchandise, D.K. If you’re gonna call something small, maybe take a look at yourself first." She gave Yuri one last look. "See you at the track, Mitsuma. Get ready to pay for my ramen."

Nako turned around and stomped off, ignoring the man behind her as her brow creased in annoyance. Yuri smiled, amused at Nako’s little outburst of anger as she headed back to the Brawlers pit. When she returned, she noticed Akira leaning against the hood of her car, talking with Iwaizumi, a racer in the second race and one of Seijoh’s top mechanics. 

Yuri rolled her eyes as she saw Iwaizumi’s face turned bright red as Akira whispered something into his ear. Akira was just as shameless as she remembered her to be.

"Well well, what do we have here?"

Yuri turned around, her expression immediately changing as soon as she saw the owner of that voice.

"Cypher." She greeted him shortly as he smirked, uncrossing his arms as he walked towards her. Yuri was backed up onto the hood of her car, her head turned away and her eyes averted from his as he caged her in between his arms. He gripped the two sides of the car tightly as he leaned in, being so close she could feel his breath against her face.

"Princesa. I didn’t know you were coming to race today." He smirked as she turned to look him in the eyes, scowling in annoyance. "I missed you, Yuri."

Yuri shoved him off her as she glared at him. She smoothed out her shorts, scoffing as she composed herself.

"Missed me, my ass. Bastard." She snapped, making Cypher chuckle as he came closer, gently tipping her chin to look up at him.

"You’re the same as always, Ms. Diamond. Such a pretty face, but a not-so-nice mouth." His thumb stroked her bottom lip. "You know, you can use that mouth for other things."

Yuri grabbed the hand that was holding her face and pulled it away from her.

"And you should know to take a hint. I’m here to race, not to be another bitch on your arm."

She muttered another curse as she walked over to the driver’s side of her car. She flipped him off as she swung in, making the latter smile as he shook his head. Yuri took a deep breath to calm herself down before putting on her sunglasses and turning on her car. The engine of the Porsche roared to life before she drove out of her spot, taking a moment to roll down the window to look at him. She pulled down her sunglasses as she gave him an apprehensive look.

"My race is going to start soon. If you win yours afterwards, I’ll indulge you in a drink sometime. In exchange, I want one hundred percent of my payout." She said, making him smirk as he leaned down towards her. She held out her gloved hand, which he shook to seal the deal.

"I will take you up on that offer. I don’t mind losing a few hundred thousand yen if it means a date with you." He said as Yuri let go of his hand, frowning in disgust.

"It’s not a date if I get my payout. This is strictly business." She pushed her glasses back up as she leaned back into her seat. "Don’t make me regret my words."

She rolled up her window and drove out to the track, where the cars were all lined up and ready to go. As she drove out, she couldn’t help but think about how Cypher had trapped her with his arms, that sinful smirk on his face as he leaned in closer and closer. Even if she found him to be sleazy and gross, she wouldn’t deny the sex appeal he had.

"Damn you, Tooru Oikawa... Damn you and your fucking pretty face and tattoos..." She muttered as she took her place by a red Mercedes SLR McLaren, revving up her engine to provoke the driver. She rolled down her window and waved with a sarcastic smile on her face. Nako was seated in the Mercedes, grinning dangerously as she eyed the flag at the start line.

The flag went down as the announcer screamed "GO!", the cars all speeding down the road at once.

Meanwhile, the crowd cheered loudly as the remaining racers all watched the cars quickly get smaller and smaller. One racer, a girl with grey hair and green eyes, frowned at a certain pair of cars.

"Hey Sly Fox, who are those two? The ones in the 911 and the Mercedes." She asked as a man with white hair looked over at her to answer her question.

"Ah, I forgot you were new. Those two aren’t frequent racers so they don’t come out very often. Typically they’ll come to a big race like this to compete against each other." He replied as he started lighting a new cigarette.

"The one with the 911 is Diamond. Her real name’s Yuri Mitsuma. They call her Diamond because she always has diamonds on her. An absolute stunner, but has a bitchy attitude. She’s hella rich; she runs a whole bunch of casinos across Tokyo and has so much money from that." He stuck the cigarette between his teeth, his lips closing around it as he took a breath of smoke in. "She’s quite the mystery though; she spent a decent amount of time in Europe and established herself as a top-notch gambling dealer over there. That’s how she was able to afford her 911. No one knows why she came back to Japan; she just showed up and started making hella bank off of the casinos she operates. That girl’s like a bag of cats and no one’s been able to crack the lock to open her up."

"The tiny one with the Mercedes is Minnie. She also goes by her real name, Nako Tsurugi. They call her Minnie since she’s small like the mouse. She’s a weapons dealer. She’s also a blank slate; all anyone knows is that she ran weapons in South Korea before coming back here. She’s a cute little thing; shame she’s taken." Fox explained, breathing out a puff of smoke as the girl looked over at him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"She is? By who?" She inquired.

"Well, they aren’t official yet but everyone here knows that she’s D.K.’s girl. She’s the only one who’s managed to keep his interest for so long. I’m not gonna go after one of DK’s girls unless I wanna get my ass beat." He explained.

"Who’s D.K. again? Is he the one that has the rooster head?" He nodded as she took a seat on the hood of her car.

"D.K.‘s short for Drift King. His real name’s Tetsurou Kuroo, but everyone just calls him by his nickname. He runs Nekoma Crew. He’s one of the best drifters in Tokyo." He looked over and pointed to the brunette man who had walked over to talk with Kuroo, sticking his hands into his white bomber jacket as he chatted with the raven haired man.

"That one over there is Cypher. He runs the Seijoh Brawlers. His real name’s Tooru Oikawa. He’s even better at drifting than D.K. and he’s one of the best racers overall in Tokyo. He spent a couple of years in Argentina, so don’t be surprised if he starts speaking Spanish; he honestly doesn’t care if you don’t understand him. Diamond’s probably the only one that does; that’s most likely why he’s interested in her." He explained as he leaned against the hood of her car, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

"Wait, Cypher’s interested in Diamond? Why?" She asked as Fox shrugged, his eyes shifting over to his gang, who were causing their usual mischief.

"Who knows? Maybe he’s got a thing for girls from Europe." He looked over towards the Fukurodani Squad pit and smirked as his eyes landed on a certain brunette girl, her eyes focused on her tablet as her other hand was shooing away a man with black and white spiky hair.

"That one over there? That’s Koutarou Bokuto, otherwise known as Blackjack. He’s the loud one you were asking about earlier. And the pretty little thing standing next to him is Sakura Inochi. She’s Tsurugi’s manager and personal assistant. She runs all the numbers while Tsurugi runs the deals." He sighed as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

The girl next to him rolled her eyes as she shook her head.

"What, you have a thing for girls you can’t have? Besides, Inochi looks like she’s pretty involved with that Blackjack guy. She wouldn’t wanna have sex with a sleazy guy like you." She nudged his arm as she watched Sakura dial a number on her phone and call someone.

"Oh shut up, Ayumi. What would you know? Besides, I wasn’t talking the time when you were practically eye-fucking that one mechanic from Karasuno." He teased her, making her shove him off her car as she turned away, her ears burning red with embarrassment.

"Okay, that was different. I wasn’t doing anything gross like you’re implying; I just happened to notice he’s quite good-looking. Stop making it gross, Kita." She tipped her chin as Kita chuckled. "Besides, you were no better when I asked to join Inarizaki."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you happy, love.” He smirked lazily as his two troublesome twin racers ran over to them.

"Vixen! Fox! They’re comin’ up!" The grey haired one informed them as Ayumi slid off the hood of her car, squinting her eyes to look for them. Kita tossed aside his used cigarette and stomped it out, standing next to Ayumi as he looked out for the racers. He soon spotted Yuri’s shiny white 911, which was neck in neck with Nako’s red SLR. The two were the first to come up, with the other racers following closely behind. The race was close, but Yuri had managed to push forward past Nako and take first place.

She did one full revolution for her exit spin, her tires squealing against the asphalt as she bore tread marks into it. The crowd roared as she stepped out, grinning as she basked in the attention.

“The winner of the first race - Yuri Mitsuma of the Seijoh Brawlers in the 911! Second place goes to Nako Tsurugi of Nekoma Crew in the SLR! Third place - Ren Omimi of the Inarizaki Boys in the RSX!” The announcer boomed as the crowd cheered for Yuri. 

Ayumi turned her attention over to the twins, where the blonde one was getting ready for the second race, checking his engine with their mechanic. His eyes flickered over to her before he smirked. He closed the hood before gesturing for her to come over. Ayumi rolled her eyes before walking over, crossing her arms as she stood in front of the tall racer.

“What do you want, Atsumu?” She asked shortly, frowning as he leaned against the hood of his car.

“Come on, Doll. Don’t be like that.” Atsumu crooned, giving her that fuckboy smirk she had gotten so used to seeing. It wasn’t easy being the only girl in an all boys gang like the Inarizaki Boys; she had only asked to join the Inarizaki Boys since she knew one of their mechanics, Michinari Akagi. 

Akagi had sat next to her in an Sociology class in university. The tall man was always a few minutes late to class, haphazardly holding his textbooks in one arm while the other had a coffee in hand. Akagi generally had been a pleasant seatmate and was fun to talk to; he had asked her out on a date but nothing ever came of it. It wasn’t until she had asked him to do a tune-up on her car did he introduce her to the Tokyo street racing scene; Ayumi had an eccentric uncle who was obsessed with cars when she was growing up and she often spent time listening to him drone on and on about different cars and their parts among other things. Ayumi had received a 2005 Toyota Celica GT as a gift from her uncle when she had been accepted into the Tokyo Institute of Technology as an engineering major. She’d eventually needed money in her third year at university when her father had lost his job at a soap making factory and had thought about fixing up the car to sell it. Akagi offered her the chance to earn money to cover for her tuition costs and to have a little fun. 

When she had first joined Inarizaki, Ayumi had been offered a cigarette and a chance to sleep with the gang’s leader, Shinsuke Kita, or as he was better known as, Sly Fox. She denied both and had a rough few days of the Inarizaki racers seeing her as more as a piece of ass than a legitimate racer; nothing a few sharp glares and a few whacks to the head from Aran, their head mechanic, couldn’t fix. The racers eventually dialed back their flirtatious advances as Ayumi earned their respect as a pretty decent racer herself. She didn’t win all of her races, but with the ones she did win, she earned enough money to cover her for her last years of school. 

“Don’t you have a race to gẹt to, Miya? You wouldn’t want someone from Karasuno or Seijoh to take your chance at winning the ten million yen prize tonight now would you?” She asked as the blonde chuckled. He hooked a finger onto one of her belt loops and yanked her forward, making her gasp as she landed in his arms. 

“Why don’t ya give me a good luck kiss then, Doll?” He tucked his hand under her chin and lifted it up to look at him. “I’ll take ya out on a date when I win.”

Atsumu was the only one who insisted on flirting with her, even though she had already expressed that she wasn’t interested in hooking up with anyone in Inarizaki; she was young and she had just started working as a product designer for an electronics company. She didn’t need the distraction. However, there was always something about Atsumu that made her heart skip a beat every time he pulled one of his little stunts in an effort to catch her eye. She acknowledged that he was no short of handsome and probably had his fair share of experience in bed; there was no harm in admitting something like that.

Ayumi looked away, avoiding the gaze of those mesmerizing hazel eyes as she cleared her throat. 

“Miya, we shouldn’t do this here.” She said, her face warming up slightly from how close they were. Before things could get any more awkward, Atsumu’s twin Osamu arrived. He yanked Ayumi out of his brother’s arms before smacking the back of his head. 

“Stop fuckin’ around wit’ Vixen, asshole. We got a race to get to.” Osamu snapped as his twin rubbed the back of his head, glaring at him. He grumbled, muttering a few curses as he walked over to the driver’s side of his car, not without giving Ayumi a wink.

“Wait for me after the race, Doll. We can work on that kiss after.” He said before he swung his body in and started up his car. He rolled out of his spot and down to the track, leaving Ayumi alone with Osamu. The grey haired man shook his head before turning his attention to Ayumi.

“Ya good, Vixen? I know ma brother can be a pain in the ass.” He asked as she nodded, sticking her hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket. 

“I’m fine. Thanks, ‘Samu. You were always my favorite twin anyways.” She replied, making him smile softly. 

“Get ya cute ass over to tha’ platforms. Ya won’t see shit from down here.” He said before shuffling off, leaving Ayumi to take her car up the platforms to watch the race. Ayumi started up her car and drove off to the platforms, where several other cars were parked as well, including Yuri Mitsuma and Nako Tsurugi, the winner and runner-up of the last race. 

“Oh? I haven’t seen you around before?” Nako asked as Ayumi climbed onto the hood of her car. 

“I’m Ayumi Josei. I go by Vixen. I race for the Inarizaki Boys.” Ayumi introduced herself shortly to them, getting an amused smirk from Yuri. 

“Inarizaki?” She scoffed as she crossed her arms. “God, I can’t imagine what kind of bullshit you put up with racing for that boy’s club.”

Ayumi looked over at the girl, whose long legs were crossed as they dangled over the hood of her 911, her back reclining against the windshield. Ayumi smiled wryly as she scoffed.

“You get used to it. The Miyas are little pricks but at least only one’s staring at my ass every two minutes.” She replied, making Nako snicker. 

“I’m Nako Tsurugi. That’s Yuri Mitsuma.” Nako pointed to her and Yuri, who had her eyes on the cars below. “I’m assuming you know who we race for?”

Ayumi nodded as she watched the Miyas roll into their spots behind a white Subaru WRX and an orange Mitsubishi Evo. 

“Hey Josei, wanna come with us after the race? We’re getting ramen and Kitty Cat over here is covering the check. Baby girl really thought she could beat me.” Yuri said, Nako glaring at her for mentioning her loss.

“Fuck you, Mitsuma.” She snarled, making Yuri’s smirk widened. 

“I’ll let you on your birthday, Kitty.” She replied, making Nako turn bright red as her expression quickly switched from anger to shock. She huffed as she turned away, crossing her arms as she held her head up in defiance. Ayumi’s jaw dropped as she covered her mouth. 

“I thought I told you to stop with the ‘Kitty Cat’ and the ‘Kitty’. It’s fucking annoying.” She said, pouting a bit as Yuri chuckled.

“It suits you though; you’re just as tiny and devious as a little cat.” Yuri teased her as Nako smacked her arm, making Yuri grin in reply. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Mitsuma.” Ayumi said, smiling as the cars below revved their engines. She watched as a girl in a tight pink tube dress walked to the center of the track, holding a checkered flag. She flipped back her bleached blonde hair before turning over the announcer. 

“5!” 

The white WRX revved up its engine.

“4!”

The Miyas’ matching black Skylines flashed their lights.

“3!”

The orange Evo’s tires squealed against the asphalt impatiently.

“2!” 

The red Mitsubishi FTO spurt out a cloud of exhaust.

“1!”

The flag flew down and the cars raced past her, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Ayumi looked over to Yuri and Nako, whose eyes were following the cars into the dark roads of Tokyo. 

“So, who’s racing tonight? I’m pretty new and I don’t race as often as the regulars. I mostly race as a fill-in.” She asked, her eyes following the Miyas in particular. Hopefully they wouldn’t cause too much trouble on the track tonight. 

“The WRX belongs to Hajime Iwaizumi; he races for Seijoh. The Evo’s Ryūnosuke Tanaka; he races for the Karasuno Killers. You obviously know the Skylines. The FTO is Nekoma Crew’s Taketora Yamamoto. The Civic with the gold rims is Fukurodani Squad’s Yamato Sarukui. My bet’s either on Karasuno or Inarizaki; Karasuno’s been getting quite the winning streak since Tyrant joined them and Inarizaki’s always been tough to beat.” Nako explained, her attention switching over her pink painted nails, a delicate compliment to her pretty tartan coat. 

“Didn’t you beat Omimi in the last race?” Ayumi looked over Nako, whose mouth twisted into a sour frown. “I mean, I guess you didn’t get to race against Fox or the Miyas yet, but I’d say you’re a pretty top-notch racer.”

“That damn racer from Inarizaki tried to ram me from the side; good thing that prick can’t drift for shit.” She scowled as she picked at her nails. 

“We shouldn’t discredit Iwaizumi now; he’s a pretty good racer himself. Besides, he’s got company to impress tonight.” Yuri said, looking over to Akira, who was leaning against her Cappuchino and watching the race from the pits. 

“So, Fox told me that you two were D.K. and Cypher’s girls.” Ayumi received two sharp glares from the girls, which made her eyes widen with shock. “I mean, that’s just what Sly Fox told me so-”

“That son of a bitch; I’m gonna smack him so hard that he’ll be seeing his ancestors.” Nako growled, baring her teeth before glaring down at Sly Fox, who was smoking a cigarette and had a girl on his arm. 

“He really thinks that Cypher can handle all of this? Ha! That little shit can barely get away without cops on his tail every two minutes!” Yuri scoffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. “Drug dealing is such an amateur practice; I’m surprised he’s lasted this long out of jail.”

“So… y’all really don’t like them?” Ayumi asked, her tone cautious as she examined their faces for any sudden reactions. 

“Do you know how much I LOATHE that motherfucker D.K.?! He’s a pain in the ass and is oblivious as fuck! Seriously, you’d think he’d be able to take a hint after flipping him off ten thousand times!” Nako complained, her mouth set in an angry frown. 

Yuri leaned over to Ayumi, covering the side of her mouth that Nako was on and said, “It’s also because he calls her ‘Shorty’. Nako hates it when anyone makes fun of her height. You have no idea how much she hates her codename Minnie.” 

Ayumi nodded as she pulled away, turning her attention back to Nako, who was still ranting about D.K.. 

“Nako, I think it’s also because he’s deadass almost thirty centimeters taller than you. I know how much you hate tall people.” Yuri remarked, making Nako pout as she glared at the raven haired man below. 

“Why are his legs so goddamn long?! They’re completely useless and if anything, it makes him a more visible target!” Nako snapped as Yuri patted the top of her head. 

“There now, Minnie. It’s okay; not all of us are blessed with long legs.” She cooed, which made Nako jab her in the ribs. Yuri groaned as she grinned, holding her ribs while she laughed at Nako. Ayumi snickered, covering her mouth as Nako huffed.  

“I’m not even that short! I’m 162.7 centimeters, not 150!” She exclaimed as Ayumi burst out laughing. 

“You just gotta include that extra .7, huh?” Ayumi asked in a teasing tone, which made Nako whine in frustration. 

“You tall people wouldn’t get it! Every centimeter counts when you’re below 164!” Nako rolled her eyes as Ayumi and Yuri laughed. 

“Nako, I’m not even that tall! I’m only 165 centimeters for God’s sake!” Ayumi was leaning against her windshield, covering her face as Yuri doubled over laughing. 

“Oh my God, I didn’t realize you were that short Kitty Cat! I’m actually ten centimeters taller than you! Holy shit, I’m gonna bust a lung!” Yuri’s body shook with another fit of laughter as Ayumi wiped a tear from her eye. Yuri started calming down when her phone went off, composing herself as she answered the call.

“Talk to me, Rieko.” She said, completely changing from the lighthearted tease she was moments ago. She kept a firm expression as she listened to her assistant, occasionally nodding or making some sound of agreement.

“Staff has just informed me that several members of The National Diet and the Prime Ministers of Justice and Defense have arrived and have been brought to the Saturn Lounge for a private booking all night. I’ve already turned on all listening devices and cameras in the lounges, but the Saturn Lounge doesn’t have enough money to suffice with what they’re planning on gambling tonight. May I have access to the safe to grab a few more million yen, Boss?” Rieko informed her. 

“Take around 75 million yens out. You will enter the safe alone and put the money in a briefcase. Have the roulette wheels rigged tonight; I need favors owed to me if they’re government officials.” Yuri responded, which made Ayumi’s eyes widen. She was aware that Yuri was rich, but how rich was she to be able to say such a large amount of money so casually; the wealth and power she held honestly scared her a little.

“Yes, Boss. Will we be expecting any of your guests as well?” Yuri peered over at Nako and Ayumi before returning to the phone call. 

“Have the Mercury lounge booked out for me.” She replied, pursing her lips as her brow creased. 

“I’ll be sure to have everything ready for you when you return. Good evening, Boss.”

Yuri ended the call and gave the two a lazy smile. 

“I can’t stay long after ramen. I’ve got guests coming to the Lapis tonight.” She said, shrugging her shoulder as she slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“What’s The Lapis?” Ayumi asked, tilting her head off to one side in confusion.

“Club Lapis Lazuli, or as more people tend to call it, The Lapis. Since gambling is illegal, Yuri has her casinos hidden behind nightclubs. The Lapis is one of the most exclusive and expensive clubs in Tokyo right now and that’s where Yuri’s biggest casino is. It’s called the Renaissance; only the rich go gamble there and it's usually a mix of politicians, company CEOs, and entitled heirs and heiresses. The Lapis is already an amazing nightclub but the Renaissance is where the real party’s at.” Nako explained as Ayumi nodded. All this information was making her dizzy from just trying to remember it. 

“Oh, okay then.” Ayumi replied as the crowd started cheering again. The race was about to end soon.

“Looks like you were right, Suma. Iwaizumi’s leading the pack.” Nako pointed to the white WRX that was in front, which was dangerously being tailed by two black Skylines. “He might win if he doesn’t let the Miyas pass him before he gets to the finish line.”

Ayumi got off of her car to look over the railing, her eyes following the Skylines. Hopefully they had behaved on the track and hadn’t done too much damage to any of the cars. However, her hopes were dashed when she couldn’t find the red FTO.

“Hey, where’s Yamamoto?” Nako asked, her eyebrow raised as Ayumi bit the inside of her cheek. She could already see the fight breaking out in the pits after the race was over; hopefully the FTO wasn’t too damaged. 

Iwaizumi’s WRX passed the finish line, with his car doing a half-revolution for his exit spin. The Miyas followed him with second place while the orange Evo took third place. Fukurodani’s racer rolled in fourth and finally, the red FTO emerged, badly damaged on the right side. That looked like it was going to cost a lot to fix.

The crowd cheered as the announcer called out the names of the winners, but Ayumi could care less about that. She quickly headed over to the driver’s side of her car, unlocking it and getting in. 

“Josei? Where’re you going?” Yuri asked as Ayumi started up her car, the engine revving with life as the headlights flashed on. 

“I’m making sure that the twins aren’t banned from racing again and that no one ends up with a broken face after this race.” She said as she backed out and made her way down to the track. She quickly parked her car by Inarizaki’s pits before getting out. She locked her car before running over to the track, where Iwaizumi was collecting his earnings and the FTO had just parked. 

“YOU FUCKING TWIN BASTARDS!” 

The crowd turned to see a furious man with a blonde mohawk. He slammed closed the door of his car, his fists balled up as he stomped his way towards the twins, who looked unfazed. Ayumi sighed in exasperation as she made her way to the twins. 

“You two are gonna get it for fucking up my car!” He yelled. He raised his fist, coming over to beat the two up. 

“Wait, wait! Let’s calm down before we do anything rash!” Ayumi exclaimed, getting in front of the twins and stopping Yamamoto’s hand. The man’s expression quickly switched to confusion as Ayumi gently bowed her head in apology.

“I’m so sorry about their behavior; they really don’t know better. Please, you can blame me for the damage. Just please don’t fight.” She said, giving him the softest, most apologetic look she could muster. If there were a few things she had learned while being part of the street racing scene, it was that male racers often didn’t take the female racers seriously. She had used this to her advantage a few times to get the Inarizaki Boys out of trouble with the other gangs. She didn’t know how well the act would work with certain people though. 

“Oh, I couldn’t get angry at a pretty girl like you. Look, I won’t fight them but I’ll need the compensation to fix my car. We can leave it at that, alright?” Yamamoto replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he flushed red. Ayumi gave him a sweet smile as she nodded. 

“Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll be sure to get that compensation for you.” She said, her voice sweet like honey. The moment she turned around, she had lost her smile and was now glaring furiously at the twins. Once the crowd had dispersed and Yamamoto had turned away, she walked up to them and smacked both of them upside the head. 

“Ow! What the hell Vixen?!” Osamu exclaimed as Atsumu rubbed the stinging spot of the back of his head. 

“I should be asking you that! How many times do I have to tell you?! Behave on the track! If I have to save your asses one more time…!” Ayumi huffed as she crossed her arms. “Look, just give the guy the compensation he needs to fix his car. Judging by the damage, it’s probably gonna cost ¥85,000. I don’t wanna hear any complaints, understood?”

The twins sighed as they headed back to their cars, muttering something under their breath. Ayumi shook her head in disappointment before walking back to her car. She headed back to the platform, where Nako and Yuri were waiting for her. The two gave her a look of amazement as she got out her car, running a hand through her hair.

“Wow… that was amazing. How’d you know that was gonna work? I mean, I didn’t think you knew Yamamoto was weak for a pretty girl.” Nako’s eyes were wide in awe as Ayumi shook her head. 

“I didn’t. If anything, I've learned that men around here don't take us that seriously and that it can be used to our advantage if done right.” She said, getting a grin from Yuri as the taller girl patted her back. 

“Atta girl. I knew I already liked you when I first saw you.” Yuri said, throwing an arm over her shoulder before taking her over to the railing. “C’mon; the final race is about to start.”

Ayumi looked to see the racers start to appear on the track; a white Mazda RX-7, a red Nissan 350Z, a black Nissan Silvia, a grey Mitsubishi Eclipse, and a black Lexus LFA. She recognized the Silvia as Kita’s car, but was only vaguely familiar with the others. 

“The RX-7 is Cypher, right? And the 350Z is D.K.?” She inquired, getting a nod from Yuri.

“3!”

D.K. revved up his engine as he slipped on a pair of black sunglasses. 

“2!” 

Cypher stuck out his tongue in between his grin as he eyed the awaiting flag.

“1!” 

The sound of tires squealing against the asphalt was followed by clouds of dusts as the cars went rumbling down the road into the dark streets of Tokyo, the crowd cheering them on. Ayumi turned away in boredom, turning to face Yuri, who had let go of her to examine her car.

“Hey Mitsuma, I’m just curious, but why are you going around racing with a 911? I mean, you could probably afford another one, but you aren’t scared of it getting damaged?” She asked, which prompted a smirk from the taller girl. 

“Why not? No one else is racing a 911; why can’t I? Besides, I like the notoriety; gives me a sick sense of pride. It wasn’t easy getting my hands on this car, so why not? I deserve to show off my hard work.” She said, leaning her hand into the hood of the car. “What's your reason, Tsurugi? It ain’t like a Benz is pocket change; not to mention all of the cars you have in the goldmine garage of yours.” 

Nako gave her a wry smile as she crossed her arms. 

“The first car I ever drove was a Mercedes; maybe it’s just a sentimental thing with the brand. I like the way the SLR looks and my preferences tend to lean towards more foreign models. For your information Mitsuma, my garage is my most prized possession. The cars there are my investments; they’re just like all those houses you buy.” Nako stated, tipping her head curtly as Yuri snickered. 

“You collect sports cars like they’re Pokémon cards, Tsurugi. In case you didn’t realize, no one’s weird enough to collect a Reventón or a Zenvo.” She teased as Nako gave her a look of disbelief.

“Says the girl who has four properties in Italy?! Is it really necessary for you to have one home in every major Italian city?!” She exclaimed as Yuri bit the inside of her cheek in embarrassment.

“Okay, but you can’t have an apartment in Naples without having a villa in Tuscany. That’s just blasphemous. Besides, a house lasts longer than a hunk of metal. ” She argued, which made Nako roll her eyes. 

“Um, girls? I’m still here and I do not know what the fuck a villa in Tuscany is.” Ayumi interrupted them as she gave them an awkward little wave. However, they still continued their bickering.

“Yes, having a villa is totally blasphemous when you own over twenty seven properties. Please, could you get any more dramatic? If you weren’t such a bitch, we’d actually be good friends.” Nako said, her tone sarcastic as Yuri scoffed. 

“We aren’t even on the same level to be considered friends, Tsurugi. You can use that cute smile to make everyone believe you’re a sweetheart, but you won’t fool me.” Yuri said coldly, which made Nako raise an eyebrow at her. 

“You think I have a cute smile?” She asked, which made Yuri wink at her, losing all the aggression she had only seconds ago. Ayumi blinked a few times before shaking her head. These girls had a far weirder relationship that she had anticipated. 

“Did y’all forget to mention y’all were psychopaths or something? That was the most bipolar shit I have ever seen in my life.” Ayumi gave them a disturbed look as the two laughed, completely dissolving the tension from before.

“Don’t worry, you get used to it.” Ayumi turned her head to see Sakura, who had arrived onto the platform. 

“I’m Sakura Inochi. I’m Nako’s assistant.” She introduced herself with the brightest, sweetest smile Ayumi had ever seen, looking so kind and soft in comparison to her boss. 

“I’m Ayumi Josei. I go by Vixen.” She said, leaning back against the hood of her car as her large bomber jacket slipped off her shoulder and exposed her cropped black tank top.

“You’re a racer, right? I don’t come out here unless Koutarou really wants me to come or Nako’s going to race. I’m usually cooped up in my office organizing contracts and addressing inventory.” Sakura tilted her head ever-so-slightly to the side out of curiosity, getting a nod from Ayumi. “Speaking of contracts, Nako you have a contract you have to sign with a supplier in Thailand.”

“Hey Tsurugi, what exactly do you import? I’m pretty sure you don’t deal weapons outright in public.” She asked, looking over at the shorter girl, who was readjusting the extra long sleeves of the ribbed white turtleneck she wore under her coat.

“I import and export lots of things, but it’s mostly machinery and equipment. I usually get shipments of big machines that I sell to factories and construction companies; it’s a demanding market and I always have customers.” She imparted. 

That was actually quite intelligent on Nako’s part; deconstructed or modified weapons could easily be mistaken for machine parts and with machinery being one of the largest parts of Japan’s trade market, Nako didn’t stand out from the already large pool import and export businesses. On the surface, Nako was just a small fish in a big pond. The fact that she was a woman made people underestimate her more; nobody expected a small, innocent-looking girl like Nako to be the owner of an imports business, much less a weapons dealer. She was like a viper in disguise. 

Both girls had actually chosen quite lucrative, yet well-paying areas of crime to specialize in. Most commonly, criminals chose drug dealing as a way to make money since it was a quick source of cash and always in demand. That was the route most of the racers had chosen anyways, with Cypher, D.K., and the Inarizaki Boys being the most recognizable names in the underground drug market. They fit their parts as low-life criminals with their tattoos, fancy cars, and an instantly recognizable smirk that always screamed of trouble. Those who didn’t wish to have many ties to Tokyo’s crime playground mostly only did street racing, as with the case of Iwaizumi, who was still in university. Street racers usually worked honest jobs outside of racing and lived generally stable lives, such as the racers of the Fukurodani Squad who operated one of Tokyo’s most high-demand tune shops in the daytime.

Yuri chose a subgenre of crime that almost ensured she’d never be arrested; operating casinos that catered to the wealthy and influential meant she had a long list of connections she could easily wield in her favor if she ever needed someone to pull any strings for her. Gambling in one of Yuri’s casinos almost seemed like a show of status among the private circles of the upper class; gambling was nothing cheap and guests had to have a significant amount of money they were willing to lose lest they wished to be in her debt for years. Those who were too foolish often lost their entire life’s earnings to her, leaving them to be her puppets in power; she easily had a foot on their heads at all times and could expose them of their misdeeds if they wished to cross her. Yet the rich and powerful never stopped flocking to her casinos; gambling was an addiction that was difficult to let go of and it only made it far harder for customers to leave when the casinos were designed to be glittering traps where men could drown in their darkest, most materialistic desires.

Then there was Nako’s weapons deals. Weapons dealing was more common than illegal casinos, but it wasn’t as common as drug dealing. Weapons could be charged at a higher price than most drugs depending on their modifications and rarity, with some types of weapons costing millions of yen for a single unit. Weapons were also quick and easy to manufacture, with Nako’s various suppliers all over the world sending her legal, unmodified weapons smuggled in through the Port of Tokyo where they could then be modified in the secrecy of her factories under the guise of assembling machinery parts that had been imported into the country. Weapons such as guns and explosives weren’t easy to acquire due to Japan’s strict laws against firearms, hiking up their prices to the thousands or possibly millions. In the criminal underworld, carrying a weapon was an absolute necessity so Nako’s business would naturally flourish due to the demand.

“So what’d you girls do when you were in Europe and South Korea then? Businesses like imports and nightclubs aren’t exactly easy to move from one country to another.” Ayumi asked, getting an amused chuckle from Yuri as she leaned forward, propping one leg up onto the hood of her car as she looked out onto the bright neon buildings in Tokyo’s skyline.

“Got a lot of questions, huh? Why are you so curious about us, eh? Gonna turn us in to the Tokyo PD?” She implored, making Ayumi shake her head as she looked over at her inquisitively. 

“I’m just curious about you two since people have been telling me there was so much mystery around you. No one knows who you are, why you came here, or how you even ended up in the underworld’s market. You girls just seem so interesting. I mean, look at me; I’m just a boring old engineering major who graduated from Tokyo Tech. You’ve got to have a better story than I do.” She admitted, frowning as she slipped off her jacket. 

‘Well my young disciple, I went to university in two countries. I spent the majority of my time in PSL University before I transferred to the University of Barcelona to finish my Bachelor’s. I spent a few more years in Barcelona after I graduated and only came back to Japan when I felt like it. It's crazy how I’m among the few here who actually has their college degree; no one’s gonna take you seriously in this country unless you’ve graduated uni.” She explained, looking wistfully at the night sky, almost as if she was remembering her years in Europe.

“Oh, you’re so right. When I first started in this market, my degree was the only thing that showed I had some credibility in my business.” Nako added, her hands folded in her lap as she rolled her eyes. 

“What school did you go to, Nako?” Ayumi turned her head over to her as she frowned just a bit. 

“Seoul National University. God, it was absolute hell to get my degree in law. At least the nightlife in Seoul was fun; I just got drunk every time I had finished my exams.” She replied, getting looks of shock from the girls around her. 

“You were a law student? I didn’t know that.” Sakura gaped as Nako bit the inside of her cheek. Yuri shook her head in disbelief as Ayumi’s jaw dropped.

“You, Miss Weapons Dealer, a law student? That’s one of the craziest things I’ve ever heard. I cannot imagine you for a second as a lawyer.” Yuri admitted, which made Nako wave off the topic dismissively. 

“Well, I’m not a lawyer yet. I’d have to go to law school for that. You won’t catch me in a law office though; all the sexist male lawyers I had to intern under in my undergrad made me less enthusiastic to pursue a career as a lawyer after that.” She insisted, her brow scrunching up in annoyance as the memories came back to her rather bitterly.

“Damn, you’re like the ideal daughter-in-law. You are literally the girl my grandma wanted my uncle to marry when he was growing up; pretty, stable career choice, and rich as fuck. I genuinely did not think girls like you existed that weren’t major bitches.” Ayumi commented, giving her a look of amazement. Yuri grinned as she gave her a teasing look.

“What are you talking about, Josei? Nako IS a major bitch.” She quipped, making Nako shove her off her 911 as she smiled begrudgingly. Yuri laughed as she slid off her car, readjusting her white newsboy cap before getting back on the hood. 

“Nako, I think they’re coming up.” Sakura commented, making them turn their attention back to the track. Far out in the dark roads of Tokyo, several bright headlights could be made out along with the distant sound of rumbling car engines. The race was about to end.

Nako got off of her car and joined Yuri and Ayumi by the railing, squinting her eyes and just barely making out the silhouettes of Kuroo’s 350Z and Oikawa’s RX-7, which were neck in neck with each other. Following closely along was Kita’s Silvia, moving dangerously along Oikawa’s left side. Neither car seemed to push ahead the other as they came into view, edging closer and closer to the finish line. Just as they were coming up, Oikawa pushed ahead and raced past Kita and Kuroo, stealing first place. The crowd roared with approval as he did his exit spin of three full revolutions, throwing up clouds of dust as his tires bore pitch black marks into the asphalt. 

Yuri raised her eyebrows, slightly impressed by his performance. Oikawa really did come through with his promises. She watched quietly from the platforms as he was surrounded by crowds of people. His eyes soon caught onto the girl staring at him from above, her eyes concealed by the dark sunglasses she had put on and her arms crossed. He grinned before winking at her and blowing her a kiss, making Yuri scoff as she looked away. 

“Qué Cabrón...” She muttered, shaking her head as she turned around to the other two girls. 

“Alright ladies, it's time for us to go. Josei, follow Nako. She’ll take you over to Haiba Ramen.” She smiled deviously as she readjusted her hat, getting a suspicious look from Nako.

“And where will you be?” Nako frowned as Yuri placed her hands on her hips. 

“Business matters, Tsurugi. I won’t be far behind. Haiba knows my order; just don’t steal my chicken wings before I get there. I’ll have to kill you if you do.” She remarked, making Ayumi turn pale. Yuri was so unpredictable that Ayumi honestly wasn’t sure if she was joking or serious half of the time.

“Um, you aren’t actually gonna kill us right?” Ayumi’s tense expression made Yuri smirk as she pulled down her sunglasses.

“That’s for you to decide, Josei.” She winked at her before turning around and getting into her 911, the engine roaring to life aggressively before she backed out and took her car down to the streets. Nako merely shook her head in exasperation before turning around to get into her car, but was stopped when Cypher and D.K. had arrived onto the platform. 

“Ladies,” Oikawa greeted them before looking around the platform. “Where’s Diamond?”

“She left. ‘Business matters’ apparently. She’s supposed to meet up with us at Haiba ramen after she’s done.” Ayumi replied as Oikawa and Kuroo took a good look at her. 

“Wait, you’re the Vixen Sly told us about. Smart, but doesn’t have a clue about the underground.” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her, making Nako look over at him incredulously.

“Oh you did not just say that, Mr. College Dropout.” Her comment made Kuroo grimace as Oikawa tried to hide his laughter. ‘She has way more credibility than you.”

Nako stood by Ayumi’s side, crossing her arms as she stared at him defiantly.

“Do you know what school she graduated from? Tokyo Tech, A.K.A. the biggest and most famous polytechnic university in all of Japan. She’s an engineer and probably knows more about all the cars here than half of the dumb dumb racers out on the track.” She boasted confidently. 

“Actually Nako, I’m a mechanical engineer. I know more about machine parts than car parts-” Ayumi was cut off when Nako continued to talk over her.

“So don’t go disrespecting my new friend with your flawed and misogynistic knowledge. Sly Fox and all of Inarizaki are little shits and I’m surprised Vixen had been able to deal with them for so long.” Nako looked over at Ayumi with a bright smile. “Sweetie, you’re doing God’s work keeping those stupid foxes in line.”

Ayumi nodded as she exchanged that smile with her. 

“I can see why you were a law student now.” She replied, getting a bewildered look from Kuroo.

“Wait, you were a law student-?” Kuroo clamped his mouth shut when Nako pulled her hand across her mouth with a cross look. 

“Quiet, the adults are talking.” Nako giggled as her smile widened. “Thank you! You’re so sweet; no wonder why I like you so much.”

Nako took Ayumi’s arm and dragged her away, her sweet demeanor not having one trace of the aggression she expressed in front of Kuroo.

“Come on, new best friend! Let’s go get ramen; remember I’m paying since I’m your senior!” She chirped, grinning cheekily as they passed by her manager.

“Aren’t you paying for the ramen because you lost-” Sakura was also yanked away as Nako dragged her to her car.

“I said let’s go, Sakura! Come on, your poor little brain must be fried from running those numbers all day!” Nako insisted as she ushered Sakura into the passenger’s seat of her and Ayumi over to her Celica.

“Wait up; we’ll join you.” Oikawa and Kuroo quickly made their way down to their cars as Nako swung into her SLR and turned on the engine, heading down the platform with Ayumi following behind her. Nako looked in her rear view mirror to see Oikawa’s RX-7 and Kuroo’s 350Z following them as well. 

The ramen place wasn’t too far from where they were and Ayumi could see the tiny little shop nestled in a back alley once she made that final right turn. The shop was squeezed in between an abandoned, graffitied building and a hair salon. The alleyway looked like it had come from a time way before the rest of Tokyo; the shops mostly were open-air or had traditional wooden doors. The shops only covered their stands with large black tarps or thin plastic curtains to shield it from the elements as the scent of cigarettes and alcohol reeked from the small strip of asphalt passing through this cramped corner of the city. In the early hours of the morning, all the lights had been switched off except for the shop’s, which had big lanterns decorated in the front that gave off a warm orange glow. Nako had parked her car on the outside of the alleyway, getting out with Sakura as Ayumi neatly lined up her Celica against the old brick walls. 

“It’s down here. This is honestly a secret place not a lot of people know about, but Haiba makes some of the best ramen in the city.” Nako walked down to the shop and slid open the door. “Haiba! It’s Minnie!” 

Inside the shop, it was cozy and inviting. The traditional Japanese architecture and wooden walls made the space feel like a local, friendly neighborhood ramen shop. The shop was quite small and could barely fit the five that had arrived; Kuroo and Oikawa looked positively cramped with how long their legs were as they took a seat on the long bench. A tall man emerged from the back, smiling as he greeted Nako politely.

“Minnie! I see you brought company.” He looked over to see Oikawa and Kuroo, nodding to greet them before his eyes fell on Ayumi. 

“Who’s this?” The man was quite interesting in appearance; his neatly parted silver hair and piercing green eyes were unfamiliar to her and honestly looked quite Western. His rather impressive height and long limbs reminded her of the international European exchange students she had encountered back when she studied at Tokyo Tech. 

“Ayumi, meet Lev Haiba. He’s a mechanic for Nekoma and the owner of this shop. Haiba, this is Ayumi Josei. She goes by Vixen and is a racer for Inarizaki.” Nako introduced the two as she set her purse down onto the table. “He’s half Russian if you’re wondering why he’s so tall.” 

Ayumi nodded in acknowledgement as Lev turned his attention back to Nako. 

“We’ll have our usual. Diamond’s coming to join us later so we’ll need a plate of chicken wings too. The boys can order whatever they want; it’s on my card tonight for the girls.” She said, opening up her rather slim wallet and handing him an all-black card. Lev nodded as he took the card from her and shuffled over to Oikawa and Kuroo, who were ordering bowls of tonkotsu and kyoto ramen. Nako grabbed the glass bottle that was resting on the counter along with the shot glasses. 

“Mitsuma didn’t say anything about pregaming,” Ayumi, being the youngest, graciously took the bottle from Nako’s hands and started pouring them shots of shochu. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”

Ayumi passed the shots over to Oikawa and Kuroo and with a quick ‘cheers!’, the group downed their shots. The night went on as the group chatted and drank together; Yuri had arrived later as she had said, sitting down on the seat by Oikawa, who threw an arm over her.

“Cheers!” Yuri raised up the shot glass before downing the booze, the translucent liquid flowing down her throat smoothly. She slurped up the last bit of her ramen before getting up and dusting off her coat. 

“Thanks for the meal, Tsurugi. Unfortunately I gotta go; I got important guests coming over to the Lapis tonight and I gotta entertain them if I want my paycheck. Bon soir, mes amies.” Yuri waved them goodbye, much to the complaints of Oikawa and Nako. She turned and left the shop, climbing into her 911 and speeding down the dark roads of the Shinjuku Ward.

Yuri arrived at a large nightclub after thirty minutes; the muffled bass music and the bright neon lights bringing comfort to her. She was finally back where she belonged. She took her car down to the garage on the side of the building, which opened up at the click of a remote. After parking her 911, she walked over to the back of the car and popped open the trunk, looking pleased at what she had inside. 

“Aw, the ropes too tight on you?” She crooned, smirking deviously down at the tied up man lying in the bed of her trunk, his eyes wide with terror as he whimpered against the dirty cloth gagging his mouth. Yuri pulled out her phone, placing it to her ear as she dialed a number. 

“Yes, Boss?” Yuri glanced over at the man as she rested a hand on the edge of her trunk. 

“Have the Red Room opened for me. I’ve just caught myself a little bird.” She said as her security guards arrived and hauled the man out, his struggling against the ropes futile as they took him upstairs. Yuri hung up with a satisfied smile, closing her trunk before gracefully making herself upstairs. 

Every employee that encountered her bowed respectfully, murmuring a quiet ‘Good evening Boss’ as she passed by them, the click of her boots alone striking fear into their hearts. Everywhere she went, a body guard was there to accompany her and do whatever she needed; they opened doors for her, pushed elevator buttons, she was their boss after all. 

The elevator door dinged as the doors opened to a new floor, with Yuri making her way over to a small room hidden from most of her patrons. Her expression was stoic when she entered the room, which had red painted walls and the only thing decorating it was a table and two chairs. Yuri took a seat, facing the young man who she had tied up in her car, having lost a few of his restraints and being reduced to being tied down to the chair instead. She crossed her legs as she rested her elbows onto the table, resting her cheek in one hand as she gave him a pleasant smile. 

“You thought you’d be able to escape me forever, Shouyou Hinata? Tsk tsk, I thought you were smarter than that.” She cooed as he yanked at his tightly bound wrists. 

“I-i don’t know what I did, I-I swear! Please don’t kill me!” Hinata stuttered as Yuri chuckled, his amber eyes filled with fear as his actions grew more frantic.

“Do you know why this room’s called the Red Room?,” A dark glint appeared in her eyes, making Hinata’s body freeze up in terror. “It’s because the blood stains aren’t as obvious if the walls are painted red.” 

“Please! I’ll tell you everything! Just don’t kill me!” His voice sounded so desperate as he begged for his life. It made Yuri feel sick with delight.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d do, Hinata. This is the part where I start asking the questions and you start answering.” She sat back up again, leaning her weight against the back of the chair as she rocked back and forth on the soles of her boots. 

“You’re going to give me everything you knew about during your time under the Ukai Clan.” She said, the intense stare she gave making his resolve crumble right before her. 

“B-but the Ukai Clan has been dormant for years! Why would you need information on a clan that hasn’t been active for-”

“I said I wanted information on the Ukai Clan, Hinata. Do I need to start shooting off fingers for you to start talking?” Yuri pulled out a handgun from her jacket pocket, making Hinata shriek in fear as she placed it on the table. She loaded in a fresh magazine and pulled off the safety, cocking it back before placing it down. Yuri looked at him expectedly, her nails tapping against the metal table as he swallowed down his spit before speaking. 

“W-well, I started as a small drug runner for Mr. Ukai when I was fifteen. I didn’t meet with him often since I was mostly under training…”

Yuri kept her expressions neutral as she listened to Hinata, but she already knew everything that he was about to tell her. She was no fool; she had all of his information on file and at her disposal before she had decided to kidnap him for interrogation. What she was more interested in was the superiors Hinata had worked under during his time under the Ukai Clan. It had been years and now it was time for her to wreck full hell. 

All Translations:

Spanish

princesa - princess

Qué Cabrón - what a bastard

French

Bon soir, mes amies - good evening, my friends

[mimisempai]

I can read you like an open book

Summary:

5 times where Loki refuses to see that he has been found out by Mobius and once where he accepts it

Lokius has so much potential. How not to be tempted?

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034121

1798 words - Rating G

1.

"I'm Agent Mobius, by the way."

I don't care about your name. I'm Loki, God of Mischief, you moron!

The man with the ridiculous mustache looked suspiciously innocent.

Loki asked him in his most indifferent tone, "Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?"

The man, Mobius, answered in the quietest way possible, "No. That's where you just were. I'm taking you some place to talk."

Loki harrumphed and retorted, "I don't like to talk.

Without losing his smile, Mobius replied, "But you do like to lie, which you just did."

Seeing that Loki didn't bother to answer, he continued, a cheeky sparkle in his eye, "Because we both know you love to talk."

He had the audacity to add, emphasizing his words with his hands, "Talkie-talkie."

Loki was boiling inside, but he wouldn't allow this jerk to see his anger.

How could this fool have seen through to him? No way!

Yes he liked to talk! So what? He had a voice so he might as well use it. At least he never said stupid things.

Sure, he liked to twist the truth, but when you're the god of mischief, was that so surprising?

Anyway, nobody had discovered his biggest secret, his biggest lie, that was the most important.

He discreetly scanned the man in front of him who now seemed a little less inoffensive.

2.

They were in a room devoid of any decor, sitting face to face, separated by a table.

Loki decided to attack. He could be accused of lying, but not of not facing the truth.

He asked Mobius with a defiant look, "What do you want from me?"

Mobius inhaled, as if to give himself courage, "Well, let's start with a little cooperation."

No, that's not going to happen, buddy.

Loki was a god and a god doesn't cooperate.

He replied with a smirk, "Not my forte.

There he was again, that piercing blue-gray gaze that seemed to see much more than Loki believed. Accompanied by that smile that gauged him.

"Really?"

Mobius paused and for a moment Loki thought he knew how to stage himself as well as Loki.

The rascal continued, "Even when you're wooing someone powerful you intend to betray?"

How could he know that? Nobody knew about Thanos! Even Thor didn't know about it!

Don't show anything Loki! Don't show him he's right.

The bastard insisted, as if it were insignificant. "Come on."

Loki, took his most superior and closed look before answering.

"You don't know anything about me."

That's it, move on you moron!

"Maybe I'd like to learn."

What?

What does he mean, he'd like to learn?

No way, Loki wouldn't be fooled.

No one really wanted to know who Loki was.

Those who wanted to know him only wanted it to get something out of him.

He wouldn't be fooled by that smile and that look. Even though...

He shook his head not to let such thoughts linger

3.

Since Mobius seemed to want to know his theory so badly, Loki was more than happy to explain it to him, it was time to show off as much as he could with his jumpsuit.

He straightened his head and said in an emphatic tone, "For nearly every living thing, choice breeds shame and uncertainty and regret. There's a fork in every road, yet the wrong path is always taken."

He looked at Mobius defiantly.

So you're not such a smartass now, huh?

"Good. Yeah."

He had the nerve!

Loki was right not to believe that this man really wanted to know him, it was just to taunt him and put him in his place.

Mobius continued, "You said nearly every living thing ," he paused, and once again his eyes seemed to see further than Loki wanted to show.

He added, cheekily, "so I'm guessing you don't fall into that category?

Show nothing. Show nothing.

You didn't expect anything, Loki, so you're not disappointed.

Loki began to snicker. Sarcasm, one of his favorite weapons.

"The Time-Keepers have built quite the circus, and I see the clowns are playing their parts to perfection."

In case you didn't understand, I'm talking about you, the clown, that's you, buffoon!

Mobius started to laugh. A totally genuine laugh.

"Big metaphor guy. I love it."

Genuine but derisive of course.

The rascal continued, "Makes you sound super smart."

Loki couldn't let it go and retorted, "I am smart."

"I know."

Two words, and the tone was no longer taunting.

I know.

Two words said in a firm voice, without a smile, with an intense look in his eyes.

I know.

For once Loki didn't bother to wrap his words in circumlocutions, too disturbed by the implication of those two words. He simply replied, "Okay."

4.

Loki didn't know what Mobius' goal was in showing him his failures, but if it was to piss him off, he had achieved it, yet Loki was not going to show him.

Just as he was not going to show him how his questions affected him.

"Do you enjoy hurting people?"

No.

"Making them feel small?

No .

"Making them feel afraid?"

No. Stop. Answer him Loki.

"Your games don't frighten me."

But Mobius didn't seem to want to stop.

"Making them feel little?"

Loki couldn't help but retort with more vehemence, "I know what I am."

Mobius raised an eyebrow and asked defiantly, "A murderer?"

Knowing that if he let go, he would show Mobius how much he was affected by what he said, Loki shot back, "A liberator."

And the man had the audacity to reply, "Of eyeballs, maybe."

His words were accompanied on the screen by a video that showed Loki cutting out a man's eye.

Mobius continued, "Look at that smile. You are enjoying that. Did you enjoy hurting them?"

No. No. No. It was the mind stone. It wasn't me.

No! Shut up Loki! No one can know, not even him, get a grip!

Chin up, straight face, sardonic smile.

"I don't have to play this game. I'm a god."

Yes, that's what I am, a god. You won't take that away from me.

"Of what, again? Mischief, right?"

So what? I may not summon thunder, but I am powerful. In my own way.

The man then added, "Yeah. I don't see anything very mischievous about this."

Of course, since it wasn't him. But how could he tell anyone that he, the great Loki, had been under the influence of someone, that he had been manipulated by a stone.

He replied in a bitter voice, "No, I don't suppose you do."

Mobius sighed. He seemed almost disappointed.

Loki wondered why he felt a tightness in his chest. The same one he felt every time he knew he had disappointed his mother. The difference was that he had only known Mobius for a few hours.

5.

Loki was devastated.

His mother had died. She had died by his hand. At least because of him.

Mobius had continued to confront him with his failings.

Sitting on the floor, Loki no longer had the strength to stand up or fight back.

"You weren't born to be king, Loki."

Of course I was.

Even he was beginning not to believe it anymore.

"You were born to cause pain and suffering and death. That's how it is, that's how it was, that's how it will be. All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves."

He looked up at the screen where the Avengers were displayed one by one. The instruments of his defeat. The defeat he felt burning right now.

He asked with a broken voice, "What is this place?"

Mobius didn't answer, just walked over and held out his hand and said, "Come on."

No more taunting in his voice, no more mockery, just compassion? Loki looked up to see if what he heard in the voice was showing on the other man's face.

He read the same compassion.

Weakened by what he had just discovered about his mother, Loki found himself wanting to grasp that hand, to believe what he read in those eyes.  For a moment, he listened to himself, grabbed the hand and stood up.

But he was Loki, God of Mischief, so he snatched the small device from Mobius' pocket

+1

"Loki?"

Mobius had just come back into the room, Loki was distraught.

Sitting on the floor with his hands in his head, he raised it at the sound of his tormentor's voice.

The man approached him gently and said, "Nowhere left to run."

I don't want to go. I don't want to go anymore. I don't want to be that Loki anymore. I don't want to go back.

"I can't go back, can I? Back to my timeline."

Can I be me here? Really me? What I want to be.

For the first time since he knew himself, Loki felt a compulsion to tell the truth.

Looking Mobius in the eye, he said softly, "I don't enjoy hurting people."

He paused, "I..." he exhaled sharply and repeated again, "I don't enjoy it."

For the first time, he really wanted to convince someone that he wasn't the monster everyone thought he was. Now that he had started talking, it was like he couldn't stop. He continued, "I do it because I have to, because I've had to."

Mobius looked at him with those caring eyes he had had earlier and another feeling he couldn't read.

He replied softly, "Okay, explain that to me."

Loki swallowed, this was the moment of truth.

"Because it's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

Mobius simply nodded, before adding in a tone filled with understanding, "A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."

Loki bit his lip and added in a breath, "A villain."

He exhaled again.

"That's not how I see it.

Once again Mobius held out his hand to help him up, and this time Loki didn't hesitate to take it. Once on his feet, he didn't want to let go of that hand, the only non-violent human contact he'd had in years. He didn't even realize that he was tightening his fingers on Mobius'.

He asked the question that had been burning in his mind, "If I'm not the villain, then what am I?"

They still hadn't let go of each other's hands and now Mobius' thumb was gently stroking the back of Loki's hand.

Mobius tilted his head a little, seeking Loki's gaze even more.

He said with that smile that Loki was beginning to appreciate, "I don't know, but we could search together, if you want."

Loki nodded slowly and answered with a slight smile. The first sincere smile devoid of any trickery.

The real Loki smile. _________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[jd-loves-fiction]

➤”I’d like one order of Mando adventure angst with a side of fluff and a dash of spicy bickering. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers flavor (whatever’s on the house) and a nice hot bowl of ‘there was only one bed’

Give my compliments to the chef”

➤ genre: Fluff, Adventure, Comedy(?), Enemies to Partners, Angst

➤ wc: 4.9k (holy shit might be my longest request🥴)

➤ 🌙 Requested: @batarella ❤

"Listen, buddy, I got here first." You attempt to reason with the wall of beskar currently pointing his blaster directly at you.

Maybe not the smartest thing to say when first meeting someone of his reputation, but he can only be doing this for one reason. 

He's after the bounty squirming nervously at your feet. And you're in the way.

Why else would he be out here, in the middle of a rocky desert on some faraway planet?

"Step away from him." The voice you hear startles you with its modulated dept. It's more surprising that he even spoke at all, given what you'd heard of the Mandalorian. Although his stature and the silent tension he brings with him is no doubt intimidating, you will not give up so easily after following this bounty so far out from the nearest town. “No.”

His visor tilts to the side, like a frustrated twitch, at your answer. “Maybe.” You rectify, which makes him raise his head in interest. “Do you have a fob?”

“No, I don’t.”

Not that it matters anymore considering yours is broken, but at least now you know he can't follow you if you make a break for it with the bounty. 

“How did you find us?”

“I have my ways.” You nearly roll your eyes at his cryptic response, not like you expected anything else from a Mandalorian.

“Do you know why they sent you?” Knowing your employers, you had a clue on what the reason was. They got impatient.

They’d been pretty determined to get a maximum time needed out of you. You’re almost sure you overstepped it.

But to send a Mandalorian? Seems like a bit much.

“They were afraid you’d run off. That you gave the bounty away to the Resistance.” Of course, those bastards can barely trust themselves, let alone a foreigner.

“Well I didn't, and I won't. So you can lower your blaster and we can do this together.” You offer amicably, not yet loosening your grip on your weapon upon his lack of movement.

“You’re out of time. Your deal is off.”

“That’s just-!” You're cut off by a shot buzzing past you.

"Last warning."

Your jaw drops. How can someone be so damn cold?

You raise your finger assertively, about to give him a piece of your mind, when you notice something move by his hip.

And it's green. With gigantic ears. And huge dark eyes that blink at you curiously.

Your head tilts, mirroring the creature. The Mandalorian follows your eyes to find you looking at the child he’s supposed to be caring for.

“Huh. And who is that cutie?” The blaster already pointed at you raises from where it had begun to slouch, alert and cautious. Noticing this, you readjust your grip on your own weapon.

You and the creature continue to study each other, until the Mandalorian pushes the brown bag to where it rests behind his body protectively.

“Are they yours? I mean, doesn't look like the ears would fit.” You speak just to make conversation, stepping closer with miniscule steps. His gloved hand tightens around his blaster, hoping to remind you that he can still shoot you point-blank.

But he hasn't.

"Can you really do much in front of a kid?" You challenge smugly, still advancing slowly. 

"He's seen me do worse."

"That right?" Another step. "You planning to shoot me today or would tomorrow work better?"

"Are you always this difficult? Just put the gun down-"

You jump towards him, hooking your foot around the back of his knee which makes him fall to the rocky ground immediately, dropping his blaster. Unfortunately, taking down a Mandalorian is no easy task, so he takes you down with him.

He throws his satchel to the side in the nick of time, it lands on a sand pile. His other arm grabs hold of you to pull you down with him.

You point your blaster at him as he lays beneath you, except it is no longer in your hand. Shit. He punches you in the face hard enough that something will turn black soon enough.

As you fall to the ground he gets on top of you, or tries, as you place your feet against his firm chest to keep some distance. You kick him in the helmet, silently thanking the stars your shoes are steel toed.

Your hand only scrapes against dry, red, sand covered rock as you search for a blaster, either would serve. Despite your momentary advantage in light of the Mandalorian’s confusion after being kicked, his hands quickly come down to cover your throat. You feel the creases in the leather as they’re pressed against your skin, and the beskar over the back of his hands against your chin.

But you still attempt to reach a weapon, a rock would do at this point.

Your arms flail wildly with no real direction, only the need to stay conscious, as if movement would help it. You do, however, notice that he’s purposely avoiding your traquia.

He still does not want to kill you. How sweet. Probably just wants to take you back to the bastards who hired you. They’d surely kill you, and much faster too.

Just as the spots in your vision start becoming overpowering, his grip loosens. You inhale greedily, desperately, gasping and coughing at the released pressure. 

You can see his visor move to and fro, searching for something. Once you look to the side, you the child safe in its pile of sand, so it can't be that. 

"Dank farrik! He's gone." The bounty. Right. Shit. 

"Now," you pause, heaving as your lungs struggle to fill up again, "what?"

He places his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment, before turning his visor to where you lay clutching your sore - but not yet bruised - neck. "I'm going after him."

"I'm sorry-?!" You cut yourself off with a cough as you sit up, feeling grains of sand make their way inside your boots and other places. "You're going after him? This is my bounty! I had him, and I would've been fine if you hadn't shown up."

He keeps his stance, probably glaring disapprovingly beneath his helmet. You huff at his unyielding silence, getting up in his personal space and jabbing a finger into his chest plate.

"I'm about to give you a piece of my mind, so you better listen very carefully. I had it! It was my catch. And from what I can tell, it still is. So you better back off, Mando." Venom drips from your lips as you glare at the tin can on his head as if you could put a hole straight through it.

He relaxes, raising his hands again peacefully, palms up, "Alright, I get it. But do you think they'd take him from you now? Let alone later when you actually catch him? They seem pretty vindictive."

"Well, what do you suggest? You're not going on your own."

"And why not?" He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans towards you.

"You don't have a tracking fob." You retort, leaning towards him as well with your hands on your hips.

The Mandalorian pats himself down where he believes to have stored the small device, only to find all those pockets empty. "You little thief!"

"And you're a liar! Plus, you think I'd just let you take my credits? Come on, with your reputation, you should know better than that." You shrug and suddenly Din is acutely aware that the beeping now comes from your hip instead of his.

"Alright, fine, let's do it this way. We'll look for him together and once we catch him, I'll hand him in and we'll split the reward." He explains slowly, carefully, afraid to set you off. 

"Seems good to me." You speak resolutely, thrusting your hand forward firmly, expecting a handshake. 

His helmet tilts down slightly as he looks down at your hand, before he reaches out with his own. Just as the leather meets your skin - in a now less life-threatening way - a coo sounds from somewhere at your feet, making you both look down to see the little green creature looking between the two of you curiously.

You look back at it, mirroring it once more, before it smiles wide revealing its tiny little teeth and, oh, your heart might just actually melt. 

It's large eyes move down from your face, towards your hands.

You suddenly realize neither you nor the Mandalorian had let go of each other's hand and that a large grin has formed on your face due to the adorable baby. It is promptly wiped off as you pull your hand back just as he does. He looks away while you shrug at the child's inquisitive stare, unaware that the bounty hunter had been watching you and marveling at the bond you'd both formed already.

And so you set out together to look for your target, back towards town, where you had begun your chase.

He can't have gone far or in any other direction, not with the unbearable heat and certainly not while handcuffed. He'd die for sure, you just have to hope he's smart enough to know that. 

You walk through town with the fob in your hand, just out of sight. No need for unnecessary attention. The town is tightly crowded, much to your chagrin, so you move slow and are barely able to see over the moving bodies. There’s just too much going on, too many people moving back and forth, shoving past you rudely. If it’d been anyone else - not an experienced bounty hunter - you would have probably been knocked down by the last two men that had scurried past you in a rush.

Without warning, you feel a hand grip your bicep. You immediately ready yourself for a fight, before you realize it belongs to your associate. Once he has your attention, Mando nods towards the edge to the street, against red stone buildings, urging you to follow him. You do, nudging anyone out of the way as you walked against the crowd’s stream.

You’re about to shout over the noise to ask just what the hell he pulled you aside for, considering you’re running out of time, before you follow his visor. Right to a wanted poster of a very familiar scoundrel. From the Resistance? Wanted alive for 8,000 credits?

“That’s one big fish, huh?" You continue to shout in order to be heard over the crowd, which you immediately regret, looking around, paranoid. "Must be important." You comment to yourself. 

You look up to see the Mandalorian's back disappear behind the corner. You quickly follow, catching up to his long strides, "What are you thinking?"

He ignores your inquiry, continuing to practically stomp his way through town. "Hey. Hey!" You call out to no avail. Well, you asked for it.

You reach out, grabbing the man by the back of his cape, tightening it around his neck and making it so he had to lean back to follow your hand in order to keep breathing. Your heart beats faster at the rush of power you feel for a moment. "You better tell me what you're thinking, or this is not gonna work."

He taps your hand repeatedly until you let go, rising to his full height and you're back to feeling slightly intimidated as he stares you down, silently.

"I'm thinking that with a price that high you might actually take the bounty yourself."

"Why-?"

The tracking fob. The small object suddenly burned a whole in your pocket. 

"Oh come on! You were trying to kill me!"

Your voice raises, arms flailing about. You know you're making a scene, considering this street is so much emptier and therefore quieter than the main one, but for the moment, you don't care. Right now, all you want is to put Mando in his place. Something you know is foolish given that he nearly killed you before and could actually do it this time.

"Yes, but it's still stealing." He spoke with that know-it-all, I'm-better-than-you, tone that just gets on your nerves. Bastard.

You raise a finger in the man's direction, fully intending to continue this conversation and clear your name in his eyes - the reason why is unknown even to you - when a shrill giggle cuts through the air. You look to Mando's hip, where the creature (who's name you have yet to learn) sits, pointing ahead to the entrance to the cantina. 

Right at the man of the hour.

What? How?!

The man looks back at you and Mando for a moment, eyes widening as he recognizes you and the fact that this might be it.

Before he takes off running. 

You start running before Mando does, easily catching up to the stout man, who's no longer in cuffs. As you get too close to his liking, he takes out a blaster (that you know isn't his) and tries to shoot you in the head. Only to miss and hit your forearm instead. 

Hurts like a bitch, but it's better than death. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see a steel rope of some kind shoot out and wrap around the fugitive's leg, sending him stumbling face first onto the ground. 

Mando walks over to him, barely winded, standing over the panting man and blocking the sun with his body. You can only imagine the man's terrified expression. 

You quickly take care of your wound as Mando ties the man up enough that he can't move, wincing as you look at the damage made on your skin. The burning nearly stops the bleeding and it hurts so bad you can barely process it, so you don't think about it, you simply level your breathing while wrapping a cloth around the wound and hope for the best considering it's not too big. 

You clutch it to your chest as Mando approaches, pointing at your arm, intending to ask you if you're alright, but you move it to your side before he can. "Are you-"

"We should give him to the Resistance." You speak resolutely, holding back from wincing as your injury rubbed against your pants. It hurt even from beneath a (barely) protective cloth.

“I said ‘we’, so don't you start giving me shit, alright?” You tell him sternly after he crosses his arms, probably getting ready to call you a thief again. “You can't give him to the Resistance because they’ll arrest you, correct?” He nods.

“Well you know bounty hunting isn't exactly legal.”

“You don't have to tell me that, Mando.” You remind him firmly. “So, if we give him to them, we can ask for them to clear your name! And we’ll get double the reward. Two birds with one stone!”

“Do you really think they’d just do that?”

“If someone’s paying 8,000 credits for one guy and specifying they want him alive, then I’d bet they’d do anything to get him, even something as seemingly insignificant as clearing your name.” You explain, gesturing avidly as you do.

A long moment of silence passes before a modulated sigh crackles through Mando’s helmet. “Fine. I’ll go get the Crest.”

“Wait, woah woah woah. Why are you going? How do I know you wont leave me out here?”

“How do I know you wouldn't?” You take a moment to consider his words. He did lie to you, but you did steal from him in a way.

You look down in contemplation, eyes meeting the creature’s. Right, Mando has the kid, who probably isn't fit to be out in this heat for as long as it has.

“He got a name?” You point to the child, who smiles and giggles gleefully.

“Grogu.” You nod, sighing and rubbing your temples. Stars, it’s so hot it feels as if your brain is melting and you can feel a headache coming on.

“You can go. But I want you to swear on your,” You pause for a second, searching for the right word, “honorable code. Swear you’ll come back.”

“You-” The Mandalorian starts, before giving up on protesting at your determined stand, crossed arms and raised chin. “OK, alright. I swear that I’ll come back for you and the bounty. That we need.” He whispers the last part.

“Get to it then. I’m sweating bullets in this heat!”

You sit, back against a nearby rock, searching for as much shade as possible. You don't want to move the bounty back into town for a multitude of reasons, so now you’re stuck just outside of town. Sweat making your clothes stick and it gathers while the headache gets worse and more blood soaks your makeshift bandage, but at least it's silent. That's what you thought about 20 minutes ago, now, you’ve changed your mind.

“The hell did you do to get 8,000 credits on your head?” You ask suddenly, seemingly startling the man who seems to have accepted his fate already.

He sighs, probably just as bored as you, “I have some information they want. That's why they want me alive.” You purse your lips in interest, humming in understanding, before silence falls over you two once more.

Stars, it's hot.

You could cry from relief once you hear the sound of a loud engine getting closer and closer. The 'Crest', as Mando had called it. 

You grab the bounty by the shirt, hauling him to his feet rather roughly and shoving him towards the flying hunk of metal that had just landed. 

The ship. Mando doesn't come out to greet you. 

As the ramp closes and the air is blanketed in a sheet of silence, your mind starts to wander without your permission. You know he has to be handsome under there, what with his broad shoulders and slim waist, deliciously thick thighs and a wonderfully smooth and deep voice that seems to caress your very soul as you hear it. You caught a glimpse of his skin when you pulled at his collar, delightfully tan just begging for you to sink your teeth into it. 

Must be the heat. Surely that is the sole reason why you're fantasizing so vividly about a man whose real name you don't know, whose face you've never seen and oh, a man who tried to kill you. But didn't. 

Sick of your own thoughts and the loud snores of the bounty, you rise to your feet, climbing the ladder that leads to the cockpit. You wince as you put part of your weight on your injured arm, deciding to climb the rest of the ladder one handed instead.

“Are you decent?”  You shout through the thick metal door, hoping Mando can hear you inside the cockpit. When the heavy doors hiss and open, you’re sure he must be.

You sit down in the passenger seat silently, looking up at the stars above for a long moment. The mesmerizing, endlessly dark sky is all that you see at first, from being partially blinded by the fluorescent lights inside the Crest, before the stars come to you, bright speckles that dust the planetary systems all around you. Breathtaking. 

You look back in front of yourself to find Grogu already staring at you, head tilted with a smile that shows the slightest hint of tiny teeth. You smile, leaning forward with a raised brow. He leans closer to you, eyes lingering in the side of your face, the one already darkening from Mando’s blow, before dipping down to the arm you hold close to your chest. You let go of it immediately as he does, wanting to shield him from seeing the blood you know can be seen through the cloth.

The child steps closer, as far as he can while up on the dashboard. Mando has to be avoiding you, before he would've seen that movement otherwise.

It reaches out his small hand, squeezing his eyes as tightly as possible while the green limb twitches. You furrow your brows in confusion, what?

The ache on your skin lessens gradually, as if the wound was being lifted from your skin. You can feel it on your arm, it tickles as your skin connects itself around the wound while the burn disappears as if you’d just placed ice over it.

At some point, your eyes close, lulled nearly to sleep by the lifting of the pain, the feeling left behind makes your skin tingle with energy just beneath, your head feels light for a second, as if the blood moved from there down to heal the wounds.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with Mando’s visor trained on your face, silent in a way you can tell he’s speechless. “Eyes on the road, Mando.” You tell him cheekily, voice cracking unexpectedly.

He turns back forward, pausing his steering to pull Grogu forward and away from the edge, before his hands return to the commands. “So, is it far still?”

“No, just a few more hours. The closest Resistance base is just on the next planet.” His fingers flick switches and pull levers, before he seemingly puts the vehicle on autopilot and turns to you. “You can take the cot, you must be tired.”

You blink at him, “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He answers gruffly, not sparing you a glance.

“No, it’s gonna be a few hours, and you’ve been awake for about as much as me so if anyone is taking the cot, it’s you.” You argue back firmly.

He sighs, loosening the cape around his neck as a way to calm himself down, you and your selflessness.

“Alright. No promises that I’ll sleep though.” He acts like it’s a huge burden, as if it pains him deeply.

He takes Grogu in his arms and towards his sleeping nook. The small child smiles at you from over his guardian’s shoulder, and you smile back.

Once he’s safely put away and the bounty checked on, Mando leads you to a space just off the main hull space, where a bed - with the thinnest mattress you’ve ever seen - is pulled from the wall. Oh boy, you can already feel your back aching, but it’s better than sitting in the cockpit on those hard chairs.

So you lay down your weapons while he takes off the bulkiest of his armour. You lay down, curled on your side and away from him, knowing he’ll have to cuddle close to fit. You feel his warmth against your back, but you don't feel his touch quite yet, only the ghost of it. Your gut tightens with pity as you know he can’t take his helmet off. That has to be very uncomfortable.

The lights are dim enough that there is no shadow from your bodies on the wall. You can tell by the space he’s put between you, that he’s about to fall off.

“Are you scared of me, Mando? Can I call you Mando?”

“Sure and no.”

“Which one?” You ask mischievously, smirking to yourself while knowing full well what he meant.

He sighs in exasperation, so you let him be. For only a moment before you're back to being snarky. "Surely you've been this close to another human before, perhaps in a more compromising context."

"Yes and it's usually quieter." You think he might not realize what he just said.

You snort, "Must mean you're doing something wrong."

"That's not-! Just, get some sleep." He says tiredly, giving up on the banter you're pushing. You do as he asks, closing your eyes as you feel the heat of his body move closer to you.

You wake up to a rough whisper of your name and a shaking of your shoulder. Eyes open slowly, squinting against the light shining right at them, before something blocks it and eases your discomfort. The large hand on your shoulder doesn't yet move from its place, gently perched and waiting for you to wake up fully. 

You look up to see Mando's helmet over you, seemingly way too close (not that you're complaining), as you can clearly hear him breathe through his modulator. "We're here and we need to talk before you go in."

You follow him to the hull without question, stopping just before the door that leads to it. You rub the sleep from your eyes before blinking up at the bounty hunter, trying to nonchalantly fix your messy hair. 

And though he'd never tell you, he thought you looked adorable in that moment. Rosy cheeks, a faraway gaze, lips pursed to hold back a yawn as you brushed down your hair. He was certainly thankful for his helmet in that moment, considering the heat he felt crawling up his neck and settling on his cheeks. 

"Plan?"

You clear your throat before speaking, "Right. So, it's easy." You raise a hand to his face when Mando sighs deeply. "Simple, really. I go in, tell them I have the bounty and ask for a little something as compensation along with the credits. See? Easy and simple!"

"Do you think they'll take it?" It doesn't sound as skeptical as you would've expected from him. It's sort of hopeful. Even Mando has to admit to himself that getting chased around and having to avoid and run from x-wings at every turn, got pretty exhausting. 

"Let's try it before we start getting doubts." You tell him, determined. "Besides, nothing to lose if you stay hidden, right?"

The planet you landed on is small and green - perfect cover for a Resistance base. You walk along the dirt path leading to it and away from the Crest, coming up to a clearing where you can see the humongous metal doors of the base which seemed to have been dug into a small mountain. 

"Stop! State your business." A voice says through a speaker once you get close enough. 

"I've come to deliver a bounty!" You keep it simple, no use even attempting to be charming with these folks.

Not long after, the doors part to let someone through, who you presume is a general or something of the sort given their intimidating presence and the flock of guards with their weapons trained on you that follow them. 

"We have your credits. Thank you for bringing him to us." You keep your face neutral even as it urges to tremble beneath the pressure of their gaze. You feel the man in question squirm against the arm that grips his bicep. Must really not be a fan. 

"That is not all I want." The supposed general, no need to try and figure that out considering you don't want them to remember you more than necessary, raises a delicate brow. "I would like for you to clear someone's name."

"That is not what we agreed on."

"Yes, well, I didn't agree to it myself, so." You shrug, impressed that the general's face remains stone cold, especially considering how much they probably would like to dispose of you given you're dragging out this exchange for longer than what's really necessary. 

"You are in no place to make demands." One soldier tells you, pulling out his blaster and pointing it at you, getting more of a reaction from the bounty than from yourself as he flinches. 

"Oh, I am in the perfect place to be making demands." You tell him venomously, grip tightening on the man's arm.

"We have you surrounded."

"Just the way I like it." You respond with a wink just to hear the person's stuttering over the modulator on their helmet.

"Very well." The general calls out in order to gain their minions' attention, "Just tell me what name they might be under in our system."

"The Mandalorian. Mando for friends."

Epilogue

"Fuck! Shit, fuck! What was I thinking?!" You yell out in frustration, standing before what remains of your ship, the rest most likely taken by Jawas, who must be long gone by now. "Of course someone would take it apart, why not?! Oh, stars." You wail miserably, crouching into a ball in search of some comfort. 

"Hey, it'll be alright. Don't panic." Mando tells you gently after pulling you to your feet and grabbing your shoulders tightly to ground you. "There's two ways we can do this: we go after those Jawas, get your pieces and fix the ship or," Mando hesitates for a moment, fingers drumming along your skin as he turns the words over and over in his tongue until he feels as if he'll get them right once he says them. "you can come with me until you get enough credits for a new one. 4,000 might not be enough yet, but it's a pretty solid start."

His rare optimism brings a small smile out of you and makes your anger settle down almost completely. You'll no doubt have an even deeper hatred for the little shits, but you don't feel as if you'll punch the next living thing you see.

"I guess catching a ride with you can't be so bad, huh, Mando?"