#and i know that what triggers them is having too full with tasks days

[kingslionheart]

THE TIMETABLE FOR THE SECOND SEMESTER JUST DROPPED, CORRECTION !!!

don't feel at all like going to uni but ALAS

[golbrocklovely]

guardian angel // colby brock

A/N: hey yall, hope you're enjoying my 13 nights so far! this fic was really fun to write and i'm excited to see what you guys think. let me know and happy haunting :)

prompt: you are colby's guardian angel, and have been watching over him his entire life. suddenly you learn that he's going to die, much sooner than you thought. it's against the rules, but you must save him. || colby brock x fem!reader

trigger warning: angst, cursing, colby (almost) dies, heaven is like an office setting lol, time jump, happy ending

word count: 4182

~~~~~~~~~~

Being a guardian angel was no easy feat. Many angels weren’t cut out for the job; too many rules and regulations, too much of a numbers game. But I, Y/N, was born for it.

No literally, God created me to be a guardian angel. And I was the best one around. I had been one for eons, millenniums. I was the top ranking amongst my division. I prided myself on my clean and non-rule breaking record. Being a guardian angel was basically a full time job. Constantly watching over your person, making sure to lead them in the right direction, lend a helping hand when you could… it took up a lot of time. And luckily for humans, angels never needed sleep.

Guardian angels had a very strict job. And if done right, when your person would pass on you were allowed to guide them into the light, let them know how you cared for them, and help them find peace once moved on. It was a job I had become good at. One I had done millions of times.

Then I was tasked with a new human to watch over. His name is Colby Brock.

His early years were pretty uneventful. Most humans' childhoods are. I watched him as he went through all the milestones: his first crush, school, puberty, his angsty phase - that somehow never left - and many other little moments. Everything about his life, and what it was going to be, was written out. Of course humans had free will and the ability to change things, but certain situations were destined.

In particular, his meeting of Sam Golbach.

They were destined to be lifelong friends, business partners, and platonic soulmates. Interestingly however, when they did meet, Colby’s death meter spiked for a moment.

A death meter, as its name sounds, measured the amount of death surrounding a person at any given time. I realized that Sam, while extremely important in Colby’s life, might lead him down certain paths he wouldn’t have taken on his own; which of course could always lead to his early demise.

But I trusted Sam, not only because he was a good person, but because his guardian angel was good at their job as well. Not as good as me, of course...

As time slowly ticked on day by day, year by year, I had this feeling inside of myself. One that I had noticed in many humans but never experienced personally. I for one was an angel, and human emotions weren’t exactly something that came easily to us. But this one… was inherent in everything living.

I had grown to love him. I loved all of my persons that I had cared for over my time as a GA, but he was something different. And the love I felt for him was too.

I watched Colby grow up, struggle. He was hard on himself a lot, internally and externally. I tried my best to send him love in many ways, and sometimes they would help. But it was temporary. There were times I wanted to reach out, to help him more. To maybe even speak directly to him in ways that weren’t allowed.

Guardian angels and humans weren’t meant to speak to one another, unless in the very rare occasion of psychics. But true psychics…. They had once been angels too. That was our punishment for breaking rules: you lost your angel privileges and became human. Depending on how many rules you broke, you would spend multiple cycles being a human, going through the ups and downs over and over again. It was described as a terrible existence in a way, far beyond one of just a normal human. And maybe if you paid your dues you could become an angel again, but there was no guarantee.

I knew my love for Colby was odd in multiple ways. I shouldn’t have felt this for him, this ache in my (what would be) heart, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to protect him, to make sure he was okay every moment of every day. And it was far beyond what my job required. But I didn’t care.

He had had many scares before, coming a little too close to death for my liking. I would peak into the future in those times, seeing if he would come out the other side. And luckily he always did. He was only 27 years old, and had many years left to live from what I saw.

But then he made the wrong choice.

Sam and Colby were ghost hunters, a first for any human I was a GA for. I watched them go from place to place, the death meter spiking at random. Truly, since this career pivot, my job had become a constant heart attack waiting to happen.

If I could get one of those, of course.

And one day, the death meter went to a high voltage; one that was only reserved for when someone was dying that very day.

I glared, puzzled at the device. Surely this was a mistake. He had years to go, many things to accomplish. There was no way he was dying.

I flipped his book open, reading the words carefully. He was hunting at a random location in Wyoming, a place called the Seesaw Inn. It was old, decrepit, and definitely was a safety hazard.

I read ahead quickly, needing to know what was going to happen, because in the current time, him and Sam were just walking around with the owner, getting a feel for the place. But his story continued on past that point and into the night. On the last page of his book, it spelt out the way he would go: Colby entered the third floor, walking towards room 312. Both boys were told how this room was one of the most haunted, and Colby - losing to a game of rock, paper, scissors - was tasked with going into the room alone and standing out on the balcony to see if he could catch a lady in white appear down below. As he stepped onto the balcony, he noticed how creaky the railing of the balcony was. He shrugged it off, turning his camera on and speaking to it softly. “Guys, I’m out here on Room 312’s balcony. Sam is in the basement, doing a solo onvoy investigation, and I’m supposed to call out to the woman in white. I swear if I see her, I’m shitting myself.” He turned the camera to himself, smiling, and leaned slightly on the railing. It suddenly cracked under the pressure of his weight, Colby letting out a shriek. As he tried to catch his footing, he slipped further and over the railing. Then, he fell, hitting his hea-

I stopped reading, gasping at words. No, no no. This couldn't be happening. There's no way he's dying tonight. How is that even possible? He had a whole life to live! This must have been a mistake.

Vida, Sam's guardian angel, rushed up to me. "Y/N, did you see? Colby's gonna di-"

"Yes I did, Vida. I know." I hushed her, looking around our office quickly, hoping no one noticed.

"I can't believe it. I was looking ahead in Sam's future and saw things change." She sighed deeply, "He's gonna need me now more than ever after this."

"No, he won't," I jumped up from my seat. "Because I'm not gonna let this happen."

"What are you talking about, Y/N? You can't change it. It's set in stone." Vida argued, shaking her head.

I began walking hastily towards the elevators. "Yesterday it wasn't. He was gonna live a whole life! And now, because he plans to lean against some rickety old railing, he dies? Not on my watch."

"You can't just go down there and change things. That's not how we help them." She explained.

I glanced back at her, "There's not enough time for me to change his fate. Unless I physically do so."

"But if you go down there...." Her voice fell softly, "you're done. You won't be allowed back."

"I know. But I can't just let him die. Too many people rely on him. There is so much more harm that will come from his passing." I swallowed hard as my eyes locked onto the elevators, "I can't.... watch him die and do nothing."

"I've never seen you like this, in all my years of being a GA." She murmured.

I took a deep breath, hitting the elevator button down. I turned to her, looking into her eyes deeply, "Just make sure the next GA he gets is nice to him, okay? He really needs us sometimes. So make sure they actually listen to him."

"I will." She nodded her head, leaning in quickly and giving me a tight hug. "Goodbye, Y/N."

"Bye, Vida. It was nice knowing you." I pulled away from her, hearing the doors open.

I entered the elevator, clicking the first floor level. As the elevator descended, I imagined Colby and where he was in this moment. I only had a couple more minutes until his demise. I needed to rush to him, and fast.

Finally the last 'ding' of the elevator clicked. As the doors opened, I looked around my surroundings. It was right outside the Seesaw Inn. I had to get to Colby quickly, so I began flying towards room 312's balcony. I knew he would be there any moment, the clocking ticking down fast.

I stepped over the railing, landing softly onto the balcony. I hid in the corner, right behind where the door would open. A moment passed and Colby came into the room soundly. He mumbled something to himself, walking over to the balcony door and swinging it open.

As he stepped onto the balcony, he glanced at the railing. He shrugged, turning the camera to him and speaking quietly. "Guys, I’m out here on Room 312’s balcony. Sam is in the basement, doing a solo onvoy investigation, and I’m supposed to call out to the woman in white. I swear if I see her, I’m shitting myself.” He turned the camera to himself, smiling, and leaned slightly on the railing. As he began to fall forward, a yell escaping his lips, I grabbed the back of his jacket, holding him back. I yanked him back into the room, knocking him onto the floor.

He shuttered out a cry, gazing up at me in fear, ""W-What the f-fuck?!"

I raised my hands up, "Calm down, Colby. It's alright."

Colby crawled backwards away from me, bumping into the desk nearby. "W-Who are you and how did you get up here? You shouldn't be here."

I stepped into the room but kept my distance from him. I was suddenly overcome with frustration, narrowing my eyes. "Do you know how dangerous that balcony is? You could have died! I mean, you were literally meant to, and all of this over a game of rock-paper-scissors?!"

"Who the hell are you? Did you follow us here?" He stood up quickly, his stance tense.

"You're not gonna believe me when I say this, but I'm your guardian angel. And I just saved your life." I explained plainly.

He paused, his face scrunching, "...My what?"

"Guardian angel. You believe in those, right? At least from what I can tell, you do. So this shouldn't be that much of a shock to you." I half-heartedly laughed.

Colby shook his head, confused. "No... no. You're just some fan that snuck in. You shouldn't be here. You have to leave."

"Do I need to show you my wings to prove to you I'm real?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes, "What? Yeah, sure."

I shrugged, acknowledging his snarky attitude, and fluttered my wings out. The room illuminated with the subtle glow of my wings. Colby stepped back, dropping his camera onto the bed. His eyes were widened in fear and awe.

He kept his eyes on them, "H-Holy... shit."

"I wasn't lying, Colby. I am your guardian angel, and you were supposed to die just then." I stated, slowly folding my wings back up.

He sat down, almost falling onto the bed; the wind being kicked out of him. "There's no way."

"The railing of the balcony is weak, and you were supposed to lean against it, and fall to your death. But I stopped that from happening." I walked over to the railing, Colby's eyes trailing after me curiously. I pushed against the railing, and it broke apart, failing over the balcony. Colby's heart stopped for a moment, his eyes taking everything in.

He swallowed hard, staring at the ground in bewilderment. "Fuck."

"Make sure to sue the person that owns this building for negligence... or something. I'm not entirely sure how human laws work, so just make sure you get some compensation out of your almost death." I remarked, exhaling.

I began to walk towards the door, Colby's voice stopping me. "Wait! Why did you save me?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Why?"

"I mean, I figure because you're my... angel, you're supposed to. But why now? Was I not supposed to die?" He questioned, stepping towards me.

"Guardian angels are only supposed to help when you reach out first. Technically what I just did breaks the rule. Actually the biggest rule of them all: don't stop death. We're not supposed to do things like that." I commented, "It kind of fucks with timelines and whatnot."

"But you did it." He breathed.

I nodded. "Yes, I did."

"Why?" Colby whispered.

I took a deep breath, getting close to him slowly. "You are extremely important, Colby. There are so many things left in this world that I know you need to get to. And I don't know why your path changed so quickly, but I knew I had to stop it before it was too late. I couldn't watch you die. I... care about you too much. And so do many others. And I made the executive decision that it wasn't your time to go just yet."

His eyes welled up for a moment, "Thank you. I don't think I'm even remotely ready to die."

"Most aren't. But at least you know now is not your time." I leaned up sweetly, kissing his cheek. "Goodbye Colby."

He held my hand gently, and I felt my being go warm. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Probably not. I'm actually gonna be in huge trouble once I get back upstairs. They'll most like reassign me to someone else," I lied. "So you'll have a new guardian angel. But I'll still check on you from time to time."

He bit his lip. "I don't even know what to say."

"It's okay. There isn't much you can. By the way, the footage on that camera is a no go... can't exactly have people knowing we're around like this." I snapped my fingers, the camera making a bunch of weird clicking noises and then shutting off.

He picked up the camera, looking it over. "Did you delete all of the footage?"

"No. I actually gave you a little present on there so... you're welcome. I guess." I chuckled, walking into the hallway.

I waltzed towards the elevator for the Inn, an up button appear on the panel, glowing a dim white light. I clicked it, waiting for the doors to open.

He cocked his head, squinting his eyes at the doors. "The elevator doesn't work."

It softly 'dinged' and I smirked over at him. "It does for me."

He raced up to the doors, his eyes locking with mine. "I never caught your name."

My breath hitched, tears brimming at my eyes. I shouldn't feel sadness, but in this moment I did. Because I knew once I left him, I would never see him again. I turned my head to him, smiling as brightly as I could. "Y/N. My name is Y/N."

He smiled back. "Goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye Colby." I choked back a cry, "I love you."

~~~~

20 Years Later

Most angels, when turned into humans, lose all of their memories when it comes to their past lives. Especially guardian angels. We aren't meant to remember a thing about what we once were.

I was somehow blessed, or cursed, with remembering it all.

After being berated by management, I was turned into a human. I lived a relatively normal life, full of the usual heartache and suffering. And over time I became less of an angel and more human as the years went on.

Luckily for me, they didn't make me start out as a baby. I came down to Earth as a freshly new adult. I was now 34, working part time retail and part time in a bar in downtown Los Angeles.

So I was, essentially, sent to hell in at least one way.

I originally kept tabs on Colby, but slowly as time went on I stopped. It was hard to constantly watch him from the sidelines enjoy his life, even though that's what I used to do. I did check on him every so often, seeing how life was treating him. And he seemed fine; happy, even. And that's all I had wanted for him. I never went searching for him. I didn't think it was smart for me to do so. It all hurt too much that he was so close yet so far away at the same time.

But God always finds the sense of humor in things.

I wiped down the counter of the bar, getting rid of the droplets of alcohol left behind from the previous drink I made. Today had been slow, a regular Tuesday night. Things would start picking up some once it got later, but as of 10 pm, it made sense for it to be dead in the bar.

I heard the door to the bar cling open, a man walking towards the bar confidently. I barely registered him, stepping over to the touch screen to enter his order.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" I asked.

"Just a beer. Corona." The man's deep voice stated.

"Sounds like a good choice." I looked up at him, my eyes widening once I finally took him in. I could spot that face from anywhere. "Colby?"

He smiled meekly, giving a soft laugh. "God, I haven't gone by that in a while."

"Holy shit..." I studied his face; he looked oddly the same, just a bit older. Wrinkles and lines had etched itself kindly into his features, his hair no longer the emo cut he once had, but now pushed back. He had some facial hair, a mustache and goatee, that appeared to be lightly graying. He still dressed like he used to, all black.

"Do I know you from somewhere? Or are you a fan... of me?" He questioned hesitantly, handing me his card to pay for his drink.

"Um, yeah. You could say that." I choked out a laugh, swiping his card. "I used to watch you and Sam all the time back in the youtube days. But I haven't paid attention to you in a while, if I am honest."

"I'm not that interesting, so you didn't miss out on much," he smirked. "But I'm surprised. You look so young, I would have thought you knew me for my music."

"I did listen to your first album. It was a banger." I grinned.

His dimples appeared as he smiled back. "Thank you, thank you. I appreciate that."

I grabbed his Corona from the fridge, popping it open and handing it to him. "What made you stop doing youtube videos? If you don't mind me asking."

He sat down at the bar, cupping the bottle and taking a swig. "Well, me and Sam had a very close encounter with death. So much so, I was a bit freaked out with making content like that anymore. But then we saw the footage we caught, a full on apportion, and we stuck around a bit longer after that. We were all over the news, as proof of actual paranormal, which was actually crazy. But slowly over time, even though we were super successful, it became a bit too much for me. Plus, I wanted to settle down, meet someone. Have a family. And Sam felt the same after a while too. So we just... slowly stopped. Went our own ways."

I leaned towards him, "Are you guys still friends?"

He snickered, "Oh yeah. He literally lives next door to me. We get together every other weekend, or whenever we can, and just hang out in my backyard. Watch the kiddos play."

My jaw dropped at his words, "You have kids?"

"Two. Sam's got three, funny enough. My oldest is about to go into fourth grade. My youngest is in kindergarten." He took another sip, smiling. "It's fucking nuts how time flies."

"That's amazing. I know about the music, but didn't you also do some modeling after youtube as well?" I queried.

"Oh yeah, my very short lived modeling career," he mumbled bashfully. "Personally, while it was fun, I got a lot more of an enjoyment out of music."

I nodded, "What does Sam do now?"

"Well, after youtube, he spent a year traveling. Finding himself. Wrote a book about it, wrote another one the following year. Did a Ted Talk that went viral," he laughed. "Then he went on to do behind the scenes stuff, and now he runs his own management company for celebrities."

I raised an eyebrow, "And then found his wife somewhere in all of that?"

"Yep. Same as me." He closed his eyes, thinking, "I was touring, in the middle of my press run for my album, and I met my wife at a party and I just knew she was the one I wanted to be with forever."

My heart fluttered at his words, "That's really sweet. I'm so glad you got to do all of that."

"Yeah..." His voice trailed off, his eyes fixating on the bar. "At one point in time, I didn't think I would."

I replied, "Because of the close encounter?"

He nodded, picking at the label of his beer.

"What happened that night?" I pressed, lowering my voice.

"Well, um... do you want the story we told or the real one?" He questioned, his eyes growing cold.

"Both, if you're up for it." I challenged.

He sighed, "The story we gave is that I went out on the balcony, caught the woman in white, and almost fell off the balcony because of the railing being shit."

"And that's not what happened?" I questioned, already knowing the answer.

"No. I... was saved." He whispered, "By my guardian angel. And then she left, and I never saw her again."

"Did you want to see her again?" I asked, gazing into his eyes.

"Every night I prayed that she would reappear to me. But she never did. Sometimes I think I went crazy that night." He chuckled, "God knows Sam still to this day doesn't full believe me when I tell him what happened."

I breathed, "The railing was really shitty though. Even an ounce of weight would have cracked it."

"Exactly, exact-" He paused, looking up at me puzzled, "Wait how would you know?"

My voice trembled, "Because... I was there that night, Colby."

He shook his head, laughing bitterly. "No, you're not. You're not her."

"Yes I am, Colby. I'm not lying to you." I rebutted, walking around the bar to him.

He stood up, looking me over. "Right, then what's your name?"

"Y/N. My name is Y/N." I answered.

Colby's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes watering instantly. He whispered, "There's no way."

"I was there that night, Colby. I'm the one that saved you." I swallowed hard, holding back tears. "I'm sorry it took me twenty years to see you again."

"Y/N? Is it really you?" He came up to me, his eyes really taking me in, "You look so... human."

"I am," I laughed. "My punishment for breaking the rules."

He scrunched his face, "You told me you would get reassigned."

"I lied. I didn't want you to feel guilty for my decision." I admitted.

"Who watches over me now?" He questioned.

"Someone good, apparently. Since your life has been working out pretty well for you," I smirked. "I made sure that Vida would care to that."

He raised an eyebrow, "Vida?"

"Sam's guardian angel." I mentioned.

Colby grew quiet for a moment, just staring at me. I could feel my face warm as his stare intensified.

His chest heaved, a kind smile growing on his face. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." My eyes welled with tears as I embraced him tightly, his arms wrapping around me instantly. We stood for a moment, just holding one another.

He pulled back, his eyes bright. "Sam's gonna owe me so much money now."

I laughed, Colby joining in cheekily.

[lomlhwa]

the silent sea (p.sh)

pairing: siren!seonghwa x marine biologist!reader

preview: strange things have started happening around your boat. you've been out at sea alone for a few weeks, studying whales. but recently, things on your boat have started disappearing and animals have started dying. you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched by someone. or something.

tags/warnings: fem reader, monster cock seonghwa, scales everywhere (i mean everywhere), biting (he has sharp teeth and they do pierce your skin), belly bulge kink, degrading, sadomasochism, he eats a chunk of your leg (it's not fatal), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, impregnation

trigger warnings: blood, cannibalism(?), a whole lot of dead animals, it's pretty much not consented cause um siren song

wc: 2.1k

song recs for this fic: bye bye bye by wei, tank by nmixx

a/n: when i posted my yeosang siren fic forever ago, someone asked for a less violent version with seonghwa. so here it is. still slightly violent but you don't die this time <3 (please note that i made up some things about sirens to make the story better. there's a lot of variation in the story of sirens so please don't take my word for anything.)

you wake up to the waves crashing on the side of your boat just as you had for the past two weeks. when you got your marine biology degree, you didn’t realize how lonely you’d get at sea. you go to grab your binoculars and look out into the open sea, only to find that they’re missing. you search for a few minutes before deciding to just use your backup pair.

you hold the binoculars to your eyes and peer out into the never ending water. you see a few fish and the large shadow of one of the whales you’ve been following. it’s a beautiful female blue whale. tracking her size and interactions with other blue whales has been your task for the past few weeks. 

you walk to the other side of the boat to see if you can spot your male blue whale. when you look through your binoculars, you see something floating in the water. you squint, trying to make out what it is. you’re horrified to find that the water around it is red and it’s clearly a dead animal. 

you put on your full diving suit and get into the water, worried about what had happened. you tether yourself to your boat before swimming over. you come to find that it’s a dolphin. you roll it over to find strange bite marks. they’re much too small to fit any of its natural predators. the bites look more like the bite size of a human. you run your finger over one of them, finding that a couple of the teeth sink deeper than others, indicating sharper and longer teeth.

you leave the dolphin where it is, knowing that there’s other wildlife that will use it for nutrition. you climb back into your boat and detach from the rope you’d used to not float too far. you grab your journal to note down your findings. 

the rest of your day is pretty typical. you spot your male blue whale later on in the day, monitoring his interactions with your female. nothing else seemed out of place but the incident with the dolphin never left your mind. what had killed it?

the next morning, you wake up, prepared for more research. when you walk to the side of the boat, you scream. 4 more dolphins have been killed overnight. the closest one smacks against your boat with every crash of waves. you use the net from your boat to catch it and bring it on board so you can examine it.

you find that this dolphin has the same bite marks as the one from yesterday. you assume the other 3 are in the same condition. horrified, you try to figure out what could be doing this. it can’t be a shark, their bites are much bigger than this one. it can’t be any of the fish because their bites are too small.

bewildered, you put the dead dolphin back in the water, leaving it for food as you had done with the previous one. you look out into the vast waters, wishing you could spot something else out of the ordinary that might explain all of this. 

while you’re standing on the right side of the boat, you get a sudden chill that feels like you have eyes on you. you feel like you’re being watched with malintent. you turn around abruptly, only to find that there’s nothing there. you walk over to that side and lean over to see if there’s something hiding. nothing. unnerved, you go to note down the sudden death of these dolphins.

tonight, you decide not to sleep. you need to find out what is causing these animal deaths. what sort of monster is killing full grown adult dolphins with a bite so small? you keep a small flashlight on you and wander around the open space of your boat. you keep the light off so you don’t scare whatever is lurking in the sea. you’ll only turn it on if you hear something. 

for a few dark hours, you hear nothing but the usual sounds of the ocean. crashing waves, whale songs and the wind. but then, you hear the flap of what sounds like a fin. you think for a moment that it might just be a fish, but the contact it makes with the water sounds too big to be a fish but too small to be a whale. 

you rush to click on your flashlight and manage to catch a glimpse of an unusual tail-looking fin. it’s bright orange and highly bioluminescent. it doesn’t look like it belongs to any of the known animals of this ecosystem; at least not to the ones you know of. it appears a couple more times before disappearing. you can see it glowing under the water for a few meters before disappearing into the night completely. 

the next morning, you hope and pray that no more animals have died since you went to bed. you stayed up as late as you could but you did need to sleep. unfortunately, your worst nightmare has appeared. one of your whales is dead. one of your huge blue whales has fallen victim to this unknown creature. this feels like it’s getting revenge on you for spotting it.

you scream and collapse to the floor, staring at your whale floating on the surface of the water. the water surrounding it is dark red. you can see that he’s missing chunks of blubber from his back and sides. “leave my animals alone!” you yell out into the vast sea, wishing that whatever was doing this would hear you. 

you feel that same feeling of being watched again. the thing is listening to you. you can just feel it. “stop killing the animals, they never did anything to you! if you want my attention, just show yourself!” you yell again. 

you hear the water splash before hearing and feeling something crash onto the floor of the boat. fear shoots up your spine, every part of you urging you not to turn around. are you really about to face the thing that’s been tormenting you and the ocean?  yeah, you are.

you turn around and you’re faced with a beautiful man standing across the deck from you. his arms are crossed and his dark eyes pierce yours. you know that he was the one causing the feeling of being watched but there’s no way he could kill a whale. matter of fact, there’s no way he could be all the way out here without a ship.

“you’re really fucking annoying. all that screaming these past couple mornings has been piercing my ear drums,” he finally speaks. he tilts his head and smacks the side of it, forcing water out of his ears. 

“are you what’s been eating the dolphins? and my whale?” you ask, getting up off the ground. you gesture to your very dead whale behind you. the man nods, shrugging. “i’m not really a fan of the taste of whale but i knew it would set you off, so i killed it,” he picks at his teeth as if he has food stuck in there. “your scream made it worth it.”

“what kind of sadistic fuck are you?” you stare at him, completely horrified at what he just said to you. he laughs at you. finding joy in your displeasure. “what, sea creatures can’t have a little fun anymore?” he walks closer to you, waving his hands in the air as if he’s offended. 

“you don’t look like a sea creature,” you make a confused face at him. he doesn’t have gills or fins or anything that would really scream ‘sea creature.’ he rolls his eyes, rolling up his sleeves. he reveals bright orange scales that go all the way up his arms. they seem to match the color of the strange tail you saw last night. he grins with terrifyingly sharp teething, seemingly sensing that you’re putting the pieces together. 

“what… what are you?” you say, subconsciously taking a step back to go back to a safer distance. “well, let’s list my features and see if you can figure it out with that stupid brain of yours,” he bares his teeth at you. “scales, mermaid-like tail and sharp teeth. take a guess little miss marine biologist.” 

that’s impossible. what he’s describing is fictional. merely folklore. “siren,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. he clasps his hands together in excitement. “ding ding ding! look at your feeble brain go,” his smile has sinister undertones and a new rush of fear surges through you. 

“now, i’m here for one thing and one thing only,” he plops down onto the ground, crossing his legs. “see, sirens can only reproduce with a human, not other sirens. and you, being out here all alone, are the perfect candidate,” your face contorts into minor disgust. “no,” you retort.

“i think you’re misunderstanding. i’m not asking,” he says before he shakes his head at you. he opens his mouth and a beautiful song fills your ears. it is haunting and echo-y in your head. you feel yourself being drawn to him instantly. you’re unable to move at your own free will.

your legs carry you to him on their own accord. despite his mouth closing, the song continues to possess you. you halt in front of him, your body completely limp. you’re only being held up by the powers of his siren song. 

he removes your clothes with an inhuman ferocity. your body is laid down on the ground, completely stripped. he hovers above you having removed his own clothes as well. you come to find that the orange scales cover his whole body. you strain your eyes to look further down his body and find your eyes meeting what was hiding under his pants. it’s basically the size of your forearm. you can already tell it’s gonna hurt. 

he spreads your legs and gets between them, lining his length up with your hole. you want to fight and close your legs, but you’re completely immobilized. he shoves his whole member into you at full force. it hurts so much you see stars. the stretch is enough to make tears sting your eyes. 

“shhh, good whores can take cock with no warm up,” he caresses your face with a gentleness you had yet to see from him. “you’re gonna be my good cum dump and do what i make you.” he lets you adjust for a few moments before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. screams beg to leave your throat but you’re unable to release them.

he pounds into you with animalistic speed. his only focus is on breeding you. that’s the only reason he’s been tormenting you. he’s using your body for continuing his own bloodline. 

out of nowhere he pulls out of you, his high clearly creeping up on him. something in his demeanor changes as he leans down to one of your legs. without warning, he bites a chunk out of your thigh, chewing and swallowing it in front of you. 

“need more stamina to fill you up like the good whore you are,” he says as he wipes your blood off his lips. he shoves back into you before leaning down and digging his teeth into your shoulder.  he doesn’t rip any skin off but he leaves a few deep bites.

his hips stutter and his sharp nails dig into your hips. he pumps you full of his seed. it’s so much that it streams out of you as he continues to thrust into you. “gotta make sure you’re gonna get pregnant. otherwise i’ll have to follow you home for more than claiming my child,” he whispers in your ear. 

he pulls out of you, cum spilling out from inside you and pooling under you. he puts his clothes back on and sighs, staring at you. “your pregnancy will be fast with a siren baby. maybe, 3 weeks? don’t go back to shore until after you give birth or i’ll gut you like i gutted that whale.” with that, he jumps back into the sea. 

you lay there in shock of what just happened. you finally regain control of your limbs and you stand up. you grab tissues to clean yourself up. you put your clothes back on and sit on your bed, wondering how the hell you just lived through that. 

before you know it, 3 weeks has passed and you give birth to a beautiful baby boy. he takes after his father with his orange scales. as promised, the siren returns to claim the child. “perfect,” he says, taking the child from you and heading for the water.

“wait!” you yell. he turns around, looking at you puzzled. “what’s your name? that’s the least you could tell me after i just had your kid.” he smiles at you and jumps into the water. you rush to the side of the boat and he pokes his head above the water.

“seonghwa.”

© lomlhwa 2023

[grapementos]

night terrors

aged up bakugo x reader

cw: night terrors

bakugo doesn't sleep with more than one blanket or pillow. when he's persuaded into participating in halloween, he refuses to wear a full-face mask.

covid was a nightmare for him. he didn't go outside when he didn't have to, which meant plenty of grocery deliveries. masks triggered his anxiety to the fullest, but of course he wore it when he absolutely had to leave the house.

now, you had plenty of opinions and reservations about u.a. and the hero commission, most of them comprised of colorful language and a world full of screaming until you're red in the face.

they ruined not only bakugo, but so many other teenagers that thought they were doing the right thing. they thought they were training to become admirable role models, people who were going to be trained to use their unique gifts to save and protect people. they thought they were going to become heroes.

instead, all they got was ptsd and a handful of other mental illnesses that left them in therapy, on meds, or with debilitating night terrors.

bakugo unfortunately suffered from frequent night terrors. despite therapy and going on 3 years of being medicated for his anxiety, he still woke you up in the middle of the night with throat-ripping screams.

sometimes, you'd find him in the corner, screaming at you to get away, stop, leave him alone. it was heartbreaking.

-

some days you could gauge when he was going to have an episode. his hands were shakier, eyes unfocused, and his mind was just elsewhere.

today, he was exactly like that, only worse. you could tell his brain was all over the place, and you hated it. you hated how his brain turned against him and forced him to think the worst, most painful thoughts. it bound him to his worst memories, forcing him to relive his them over and over. his own brain.

you did everything you could to assuage the brain fog. you made him tea in the mornings, kept the house tidy, and tried to keep him from performing any heavy tasks. it was difficult, considering he didn't much fancy being helped or taken care of. when it was you, though, he let you.

after a particularly difficult day, the two of you settled into bed together, silent as you faced each other, gazing in silence.

"i'm scared." he whispered, finally breaking the silence.

just a look in his eyes was all it took for you to know it was true. he was terrified.

you placed your hand on his cheek, caressing your thumb over the skin, "i know. it's okay to be scared."

he shook his head, squeezing your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, breaths quickening as he thought about the idea of sleeping. sleeping wasn't kind to him, and he knew it, because he never, never slept well.

"hey, hey, just breathe, okay?" you breathed deeply to set an example, one slow inhale preceding a lengthy exhale, "like that."

he followed your example, slowly relaxing his features, "yeah, yeah, okay."

"i know you're scared," you whispered, "but no matter what, i'm here. no matter what monster you see, no matter who's out to get you, you're going to open your eyes and it's gonna be me. it'll always be me."

he nodded, wordlessly, and scooted into your waiting arms.

-

you slept lightly since living with bakugo. that's what made it so easy for you to identify the earliest signs of his episode.

every shift in the bed, every ruffle of the sheets, you were stirring.

so when he sat up, you were half-awake. his steps fully woke you.

you shot up to a sitting position, watching carefully as he stood still for a moment.

"baby?" you whispered, scooting over to the edge of the bed.

no response. he walked over to the center of the room, going stiff.

"kats?"

just as you called out to him, he let out the most throat ripping scream you'd heard.

you jumped on the spot, blood going cold as the shriek reached your ears. your hands shook as you took your first step on the bed, careful to not get too near.

he faced you, eyes open but unseeing. they were glazed over, looking right through you with the most fear-filled eyes you'd ever seen. he was terrified, looking at you as if you had a knife in your hand and a slasher theme following you wherever you went.

"get away!" he screeched, staggering backwards, "get the fuck away!"

your heart shattered at his words, but you knew it wasn't about you. you sucked up your fear, your sadness, and took a deep breath to ground yourself.

"okay, okay. i'm sorry," you spoke calmly, sitting down on the floor cross-legged, "i didn't mean to scare you."

your voice still wavered, still shook with the fear you definitely felt.

he didn't seem to hear you, but your smaller presence seemed to make him feel less threatened.

he was grunting, groaning, crying. his stance was defensive, ready to defend. those hero instincts that he learned as a teenager, the need to protect himself because he was always, always in danger, never left.

that always scared you. the possibility of him activating his quirk and using it on you. but being hurt isn't what scared you--it was the guilt you know he'd feel. you were terrified of him leaving you because he thought he was a danger, or too much to handle. that couldn't be farther from the truth.

you just watched, at least five feet away from his shaking form. you wouldn't touch him, wouldn't yell or panic. you'd just watch, occasionally whispering some affirmations.

it took a while for him to calm down, to stop yelling and crying. about ten minutes later, his eyes went blank again and he walked himself back to the bed and laid down.

you followed him with your gaze and pushed yourself up with a soft sigh. after a moment of processing, you grabbed a water from the kitchen and set it on his nightstand.

you checked him once more to make sure he was comfortably asleep before taking your place next to him.

you watched his face, scanning it for any signs of discomfort or anxiety. nothing. as if it had never happened.

you kissed his forehead, "i'm so sorry, my love. i hope things won't always be like this."

ngl, i have so many opinions on all the trauma these poor kids have gone through, but i like to avoid discourse at all costs. also, i had to do some research on night terrors, so i hope i wasn't too far off.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Helping You Lose Weight

AN: I suffer a binge eating disorder, inflected from my mother. I also suffer with medical issues and medication that genuinely have made things so difficult. My mom refuses to help, so sometimes you just gotta be your own cheerleader. Call me crazy, but imagining George Weasley supporting me is what keeps me going sometimes. Maybe this can helps others in my shoes to. It’s scary, and isolating, but hey. I’m your cheerleader to!

Warnings: Binge eating disorder, weight loss, sensitive topic matter with food, diet culture, it’s just a trigger warning of weight topics in general

William ‘Bill’

As the eldest sibling he’s had to try and be the best influence. He’s had to try and make sure his younger siblings ate and stayed health. Third parent syndrome. So he knows that this will be a journey, but one he’s happy to help with. Given his curse breaking job he often needs to keep himself in a very healthy mental space. So he would be more than happy to drag you in with yoga, tai chi, and simple mental work outs like that. It’s simple, but easy on the joints. A important part of weight loss is doing things that are enjoyable. Makes you want to do them more. His focus on mental health is very important, and often ignored when weight loss is involved. So this important step is going to make the journey so much easier. Slower? Maybe. But slower means it’ll STAY off easier. His focus on mental health is going to be a god send

Charlie

Since he works with dragons he knows how important it is to keep healthy. He’s constantly doing Manuel labor, and eats a pretty heavy diet of protein. This also means he’s going to be a great cheerleader to help you. Knowing all kinds of great work outs to help you, and finding useful tasks for you to do at the sanctuary. Not to mention he knows how to cook, and is more than happy to show you how as well. He is also a nice reminder that you can still be healthy will looking chubby. He’s made of heavy muscle. Muscle isn’t tense twenty four seven. That squishy is deadly. It’ll make losing weight a bit scary though. You’ll be developing muscle as you lose weight, so the number on the scale won’t really move. Don’t worry. Muscle burns a lot since you need a lot of calories to keep it. You are in safe hands. You need to trust the process. It takes time. You’ll do it! Charlie knows it!

Percy

He’s not a jock. He doesn’t work out like crazy. Especially not like his siblings. But he does know how to cook. Every Weasley does. Eating healthier and cleaner is exteremly important. Most of weight loss relies on being under a calorie number. That’s, unfortunately, the harder parts to. So Percy will be more than happy to do a bunch of reading on the topic. To do his best to figure out the best meals for the day. To help trade out snacks for healthier alternatives. It’ll also give him a good excuse to try and repair the bond with his family. Practicing and learning family recipes. That’s so nice

Fred & George

They run a joke shop full of candy, sweets, and pastries. Needless to say it’s a binge eaters worst nightmare. That’s going to cause so many trials and tribulation. The smells and scents, the new recipes, it’s just hell. They want to help so much, but they are shop owners. Not like they just take it all off the shelves. It’s truly going to be a test that you will fail, many times, but they will be there to pick up the pieces. They’ll be there for every crying session you have after you finish off so much that you feel inhuman. They’ll even use this as an excuse to try and invent new sweets that can be healthier. Children deserve to eat healthier too. Some kids are victims of obesity and need help. Diet culture makes them think they are bigger than they actually are. So to have healthier sweet alternatives helps everyone. Your struggles will be what help kids feel better. They’ll be more than happy to find alternatives to help. You won’t be treated as ‘different’ for needing to diet. You won’t feel like a burden because you need to eat different. Being a kid is being happy and whimsical. And by god they will help you make eating fun again! And help you through that toxic relationship with it!

Ron

He can be the one person that understands the relationship dynamic of food. Sure he has a high metabolism, and is constantly working out, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how eating can just make everything feel better. Food can feel good, but it can also feel so damn bad. He knows that feeling. He knows that pain. He knows that horrible dance. He gets it, and knows it’s not as easy as just ‘eating less’ as everyone says. It’s not that easy. He knows. He knows you are trying your damn best, and he’s going to remind you that you have made successful steps. That because you relapse doesn’t make you any less of a person. Everyone falls down. The fact you get up again is what matters. He gets it, and will help you. You two can do it. TOGETHER

Ginny

As the youngest she’s seen her siblings trial and tribulations. As the saying goes ‘the oldest does everything the youngest shouldn’t’ and learns not to do that. She also over all has more life experience than people give her credit for. She understands that you are struggling, and is more than happy to help. Have you train with her before her quidditch seasons, and just try and make things fun. Just like her siblings ya gotta make it fun. She’s got that high energy spirit that will help you stay active. Morning runs, yoga, dancing, she has an energetic lifestyle that will help you be more active. Even if you both stay home all day. Her energy is infectious, and it’ll help motivate you to move more. She’s got your back, and has so many health programs to let you use. She’s a professional quidditch player. Everyone needs a specific diet plan for their needs. Especially since everyone works a different part. A seeker needs a different diet compared to a beater. She’s gonna help you, and her quidditch team has your back all the same. You won’t face this alone

[rascal-xo]

I heard your requests are open~

I'm always a sucker for angsty hostage reader fics. Maybe one of the 141 are clearing a warehouse, and come across hostage!reader. He takes them back to the base for their injuries and they start to get close

Hopefully this is enough to go off of, I really like your writing

Special Affairs | Task Force 141 x GN!Reader

Chapter Summary: You’ve found yourself in a sticky situation and end up crossing paths with none other than the infamous 141 soldiers.

Warnings: Violence, weapons, language, reads like an action fic ‼️

Word Count: a lot. (i’m too lazy to check lol)

A/N: I decided to let my creativity run wild and took some inspiration from the Cold War campaign (my fav). I hope you enjoy and ty for the request!!

|NOT CANONICALLY ACCURATE| |OVERLAPPING OF TIMELINES| PART 2 HERE

When you were recruited for the CIA, It was only a matter of time you’d find yourself in this situation. Your training had prepared you for the unexpected, but nothing could have quite prepared you for the events that unfolded during this covert mission.

As a highly skilled agent, you were sent deep undercover to gather intel on a notorious terrorist organization. You had infiltrated their ranks and gained their trust, positioning yourself to uncover their plans from within.

But during one of the critical moments, a sudden turn of events led to chaos.

As tensions escalated, shots rang out, triggering a full-blown firefight and you were caught in the crossfire, you fought valiantly, taking down several hostiles. You were outnumbered and one of the enemy operatives managed to sneak up behind you, immobilizing you with a well-placed blow to the head.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself disoriented and restrained in a dimly lit underground bunker. Your head throbbed with pain as you struggled against the ropes binding your wrists.

Hours turned into days as you remained imprisoned, your captors using various failed forms of psychological torture to extract information.

Unbeknownst to Captain Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz, their mission had brought them closer to the underground facility where you were held captive.

Their objective aligned with yours - to dismantle the terrorist organization from within.

As the four of them navigated the corridors, they encountered heavy resistance. The sound of gunfire echoed through the compound, alerting your captors to the presence of intruders. “Was zum Teufel?!” (What the hell?!”)

The two armed soldiers in your room snapped up from their seats and readied their rifles to fire back if the door opened.

Just as the enemy closed in on your location, the sound of a door being kicked open reverberated through the bunker.

Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz burst into the room, their weapons blazing. Their entrance sent your captors into disarray, allowing you to break free from your restraints.

Without wasting another moment you grabbed a gun on the nearby table, just as The Captain’s weapon pointed away from the now dead guards and to you, “Don’t Shoot!” You exclaimed.

“Who are you?” Ghost barked, not lowering his gun yet.

“I’m CIA.” Price motioned for everyone to lower their weapons and you walked closer to the group.

You nodded to them, “Clandestine Special Officer, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What’re you doing down here, Lass?” Soap chimed in, looking at you intently.

“Came here on the job you’ve been sent to finish.” You looked at your shoulder which was still freshly wounded, and then looked around the room for your jacket. You finally caught eye on it laying on the floor and quickly went to put it on.

“Wait, you cant go on like this, you’re broken.” Gaz points out, motioning to your shoulder. You could feel the black and blue forming around your eyes and the cut stinging on your lip as well. ‘So much for covert’ you thought to yourself.

“I’m fine, but I know East Berlin won’t be if we don’t get moving.” You answer.

Captain Price exchanged a glance with Soap before nodding in agreement. "They’re right. We need to finish this mission, and it seems like we've got ourselves an unexpected ally," he said, his voice steady and commanding. “Gonna get that arm checked out once we’re back, got it?”

You nod and collect the rest of your scattered gear, before heading out of the bunker and to the main facility. “So what’s the motherfucker got down here that needs to be guarded like this?” Gaz asks, as you take down maps and manifestos from the enemy conference room which is now empty.

“Missiles.” They all pause and turn to you in shock. “American missiles.”

“Steamin bloody Jesus.” Soap mutters.

“In the 50’s, Operation Greenlight put nuclear devices within every major European city as the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to a Soviet invasion of Europe. But an upgraded American Precision Strike system when online 2 weeks ago, sent up red flags all over but they were disguised at that time.”

“Perseus.” Price’s voice had anger lining it. “When does the system become active?”

“We have 24 hours at best. Launch was already delayed a few days from what I understand.”

The group exchanged concerned glances. "We need to move fast and take out the missile launch site before it's too late," Captain Price said, his voice urgent.

You nodded in agreement, knowing that time was of the essence. "I have intel on the location of the launch site, but it's heavily guarded," you said, pulling out a map and pointing to a spot. "We need a solid plan of attack."

You joined Captain Price and Soap as they made their way towards the launch site, keeping your eyes peeled for any enemy forces. Gaz and Ghost went around the south entrance.

Finally, you reached the launch site and saw the missile silos looming in the distance. The group split up, with Captain Price and Soap taking the left flank and you taking the right.

As you made your way towards the silos, you encountered heavy resistance. Enemy soldiers were everywhere, firing at you from all directions. You returned fire, taking out as many as you could.

When you reached the site, you quickly accessed the control panel, determined to disable the launch sequence. With deftness born from your CIA training, you navigated the complex system, neutralizing the imminent threat.

“Bravo Six to Actual- do you copy?” Price spoke.

“This is actual, what’s your report?” Laswell’s voice coming from the comms.

“We’ve got the threat. They were active missiles.”

The tension in the room dissipated as the launch sequence halted. A collective sigh of relief passed through the team.

“Gonna call in the evac, Y/N you with us?” Soap asked, coming to the group. Going back with the 141 didn’t seem like such a bad idea now that you had worked with them. The CIA could use the extra knowledge first hand.

“Hope you’ll save me a seat.” You smiled.

———

After the mission, you and the rest of the team returned to a secure base in London. You found yourself sitting at the counter at a pub.

You watched from across the bar as Soap scored a bullseye with the dart, earning a triumphant cheer from Gaz. Ghost simply nodded in approval, his focus seemingly undisturbed.

“Adler it’s Y/N. Everything’s been handled but I’m in London for the time being.” You sent the voicemail and set your phone down.

Captain Price walked over, a slight smile playing on his lips. He took a seat beside you, signaling the bartender for a drink.

"CIA, huh?" Price remarked, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "So what’s next for you, darling?”

"There’s always something that needs to be dealt with. But It feels good to have a moment to breathe," you replied, taking a sip from your drink. The cool liquid provided a soothing sensation as it slid down your throat.

You looked up to meet his gaze. You had known of captain for quite some time now. There wasn’t a file at Langley you hadn’t been assigned to go through, his of course was more seasoned than others.

Price's piercing blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fade away. His expression held a mix of admiration and camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment.

He leaned back in his seat, his expression now uncertain. “Laswell never mentioned you or anything about this mission being active.”

“Well neither did Shepard, and we all know you have a Shepard problem.” You moved your glass in a circular motion slightly, watching the golden liquid rise and fall.

“We’ll always have that problem, darling.” He scoffed, downing the rest of his scotch.

“Well since i’m here now, consider that problem handled.” You said, suddenly deciding that you and the 141 weren’t quiet done being a team yet…

————————————————————————————

A/N: I highkey enjoy writing action/double meaning story fics. LMK what y’all think :))

[bellyasks]

Hiii do you have any prompts about hunger in a magical context? Preferably like magical person x human? Thank you I hope that’s okay :3

😋 A isn't human, and their appetite is much bigger than human B's. B either doesn't know or often forgets this, though, so when they eat together, A often leaves the table underfed. If their not being human is a secret, they might be unwilling to solve that problem while they're still out with B.

😈 A has the ability to teleport things, and they're also very mischievous. One day, rather than go to the trouble of cooking for themself, they teleport each bite B eats of their own food into their stomach. By the time B's plate is empty, A is full, while B is bewildered to find that they're still hungry.

👅 A is a feeder whose saliva triggers a strong appetite. Any time they kiss B, or perhaps bite them, B almost immediately becomes ravenous, much to A's enjoyment. Of course, this can be inconvenient if they kiss at the wrong time.

🧙 A is a witch, and after a fight with B, they place a curse of hunger upon them. B's appetite becomes insatiable, their stomach always achingly hungry no matter how much they eat, until they finally beg A to make them normal again and the two make up.

🤏 A is a shapeshifter who spends most of their time fairly small. They eat a nice filling breakfast before making themself big to help B with something, but that breakfast is now tiny in their otherwise empty stomach, and the task drags on much longer than expected.

🪄 A has magical powers, and B often asks A to use those powers to help them with things. A is happy to help, but what B doesn't realize is that using magic takes a lot of energy and calories, and using too much without a break will leave A feeling exhausted and hungry.

🍖 A isn't human and has a particular diet that most human food doesn't fall into. They love spending time with human B, but it's hard for them to find anything to eat while they're in B's realm/world/etc. Alternately: the things they eat aren't human-safe, leading to the reverse when B visits A's home.

🏃 A is a magical creature with far more stamina than humans, and can go days without eating. When they take B along with them on adventures, they sometimes forget that humans need to eat fairly frequently, and B winds up going longer than they'd like without meal breaks.

[kianaisspiraling]

Immortal GIGS Crew Phasmophobia AU

GIGS phasmo AU where they're basically just a group of retired immortals having fun :D

Impulse and Skizz started working for this ghost hunting company, and since they can't die, instead of reading the manual they decided to just fuck around and find out.

In truth, they kinda just showed up and started taking jobs. The company was gonna find these intruders and punish them at first, but when the spectacular results started coming in, the higher-ups hesitantly decided to let it go, since none of their actual employees were brave enough to take the cases Impulse and Skizz did.

Eventually, their results from one investigation were left with a letter requesting payment, since they didn't wanna keep using the cheap starter equipment in the van they "borrowed." So if the company slips an envelope full of cash into their own mailbox every time they receive a report for the mystery workers to take, and sometimes equipment disappears from storage with cash in its place, they simply would look the other way.

Later they drag Grian, Scar, and Gem into their shenanigans and they also fuck around and find out.

To the company, the GIGS Crew is their best team, even if they don't know much about them. They always take their hardest, most fatal jobs, and walk out completely fine.

Little do they know these eldritch entities die repeatedly and they scream like little girls. What is considered an almost certainly fatal job for any regular person, is just a game to the GIGS.

For example, all manuals say to snap pictures of cursed items, and safely return them to HQ to be disposed of in a contained area. GIGS crew though? None of them have the self control to not use those. Every single one of them would pull every tarot card for fun and you know it. Manual says to under no circumstances touch a summoning circle. GIGS does not read the manual.

They even set some rules early on, afterall this is a game to them, and what fun is a game if you can't die? So essentially they declared that if a ghost was to hit you with what would be a killing blow, you have to go into spectral form, in which you detach from your body and hover about like a spectator. Think Dr. Strange. The only thing they're allowed to do in this form is pick stray items up, and if everyone "dies" they have to jump ship and come back again later.

They can be 'revived' by the monkey paw or something too. Thing is, despite the fact that they don't need to, they still say, "I wish for Life," before the 'dead' person returns to their body. If this causes some recently dead guy a block away to suddenly wake up fine, sue them. They're causing miracles over here, be grateful!

Now imagine something happens one day that causes a human mortal that also works for the company in some regard to bare witness to GIGS' unhinged method of investigation. They're playing with cursed objects like toys, purposefully triggering hunts, and—

Unnamed is sitting in the van watching the camera closely when it happens. They've been tasked as a fifth, no wait, sixth member of the legendary GIGS crew for the day, since there's apparently a girl named Gem that subs in for Scar half the time. They're thinking that, sure, this team's been a bit reckless so far, but who are they to judge? These guys are THE professionals, after all. However, this viewpoint quickly gets decimated.

"HahAHA Scar's dead!" Unnamed's head snaps up at Grian's outburst. They, being the normal person they are, respond reasonably, "Wait, agent Scar is dead-?!" A pause followed by a realization, "Why the hell are you laughing-?!"

Grian, who came back into the van for candles since they were going to do an Onryo test before it started hunting, suddenly remembers that humans don't think death is funny. Right. Need to fix that slip up.

"Uhm... out of shock, I think?" Wow, A+ excuse, he mentally berates himself. Think Grian, think! Humans have that thing called grief, right? And isn't the first stage of that denial? Bingo! "I.. I'm sorry, I think I'm just.. in denial?" Grian wants to slap himself. Great idea, horrible execution. Unnamed clearly didn't buy it.

Thankfully, that mess was interrupted, "Hey guys, I found the monkey paw. Should I use it to bring Scar back?" Impulse says over the radio. Skizz and Grian are quick to agree, the latter also using the distraction to rush out of the van and that conversation with the candles.

It takes a moment to click, but Unnamed suddenly realizes, "Wait, are you guys gonna use a cursed item to bring Agent Scar back-?! Look, I know you all are mourning, but that is under all circumstances forbidden!" They take a breath in disbelief, "That could have unforeseen consequences!"

Skizz pipes up, not even trying to be subtle, "Well, duh. The consequences are what makes it fun!" Unnamed is interrupted by Impulse before they can rant about how bad of an idea this is—, "Yeah you say that until you're the one that has to deal with them," he chuckles.

Skizz, in blind yet playful rage, bites the bait, "Fine then! Give me the monkey paw, and I'll wish Scar back to life myself!"

Skizz does this and dies, and they can practically hear him complaining from beyond the grave. Impulse snaps a picture of his corpse as they make fun of the position he's in, his back bent backward. Unnamed is frozen in shock in the van as they listen to Skizz's friends, including a newly revived Scar, laugh at their own friend's demise. Oh god, they're surrounded by psychopaths. These guys take all the hardest jobs, of course they've gone crazy—

Unnamed, after spiraling for an unknown amount of time, looks over to the activity chart to see that there is a hunt going on. This gives them some time to collect their thoughts, only for that little composure to immediately be shattered when as soon as the hunt ends, Grian barks out a laugh, "Oh Scar! He's died AGAIN!", "Oh nooo!" Impulse follows along with a chuckle. Unnamed is on the verge of hyperventilating.

The two remaining GIGS return to the van and ignore Unnamed's impending panic attack. Grian tells Impulse that the hunt started right after the third candle blew out, so he thinks it's an Onryo. "I mean we do already have orbs, but I wasn't getting freezing temps and that ghost just wasn't answering spirit box." Impulse counters.

"Listen, I know I was spirit boxin' it pretty good,"—Unnamed shudders at that. The second-hand cringe they felt listening to Grian's "WHERE ARE YOUUU-?!" was indescribable—"but my gut is really telling me it's an Onryo! Besides, we've had ghosts that just refused to talk before."

"Your gut is usually right," Impulse mutters. "Look, we've got one of two evidence and a successful Onryo test, so I say we gag since Scar and Skizz are dead." Grian says. Impulse still looks unsure, "I just feel like it's too soon. One evidence is hardly enough, and that Onryo test could be a fluke."

They have completely forgotten Unnamed is there at this point, and they don't exactly feel like attracting attention to themself as they wilt like a flower in the corner, pondering their life choices.

Grian relents a bit, "Okay how about this, we ask Scar and Skizz if we should gag or continue investigating, fair?" Impulse nods, "Fair."

Unnamed looks up a little, concerned on how exactly they plan to consult their dead friends. They're beginning to think there's a high likelihood they'll quit tonight, and they're definitely going to need a therapist after all this.

Impulse speaks up over the radio despite them all being in the truck, "Alright guys, come get your clipboards!" Unnamed stares on in something akin to horror as two of the clipboards up on the wall start hovering. Impulse's voice is somehow too loud and too quiet at the same time, "Alright, throw your clipboards on the keyboard if we should continue, and throw them on the floor if we should gag."

Both clipboards are now being repeatedly picked up and tossed on the floor of the van by an invisible force. 'Forces,' they correct themself mentally, as it slowly dawns on them that these ghosts are actually Scar and Skizz, and isn't THAT a mind-twister?

Impulse looks slightly disappointed but smiles good-naturedly anyway, "You guys wanna gag? Alrighty then, check off Onryo and let's go!"

This is the moment that Impulse suddenly remembers Unnamed's existence, looking slightly worried at their lack of input, "You okay?" He turns his head, "Grian don't go yet, Unnamed hasn't given their opinion." Grian grumbles out a 'fine', and Impulse looks back at them, "You wanna gag, or should we contin–" Unnamed interrupts, "Just get me outta here please," they near-whisper.

Impulse looks them over and remembers that humans aren't meant to be that pale and hesitantly asks, "You uh... feeling sick?" He looks over to Grian for help, and Unnamed could swear they heard Grian sassily mumble, "Don't look at me, I dunno how humans work either," but they had to be hearing things, because that just doesn't make sense, surely.

"Impulse, lets just go and pass Unnamed onto someone who actually knows what they're doing," Grian grumbles, clearly frustrated. Impulse still looks concerned (at least he's trying), but concedes since, yeah, they really don't know what they're doing, do they?

As Grian starts the truck, Unnamed notices that Scar and Skizz's bodies are suddenly in the truck. Did– did Grian leave while Impulse looked them over? That had only lasted for a few seconds though, Grian couldn't possibly have dragged them in in that time, could he? It's like they were just teleported in here. Unnamed is really going to need that therapist, and maybe some kind of hallucination medication too...

While staring into space and down at the keyboard in misery, Unnamed distantly hears the sounds of someone cracking their joints and grunting noises to accompany it. They fully snap to attention, however, when they hear the people's voices.

Scar makes a sound of discomfort as he snaps his neck back into place, "Oh void, gonna feel that in the mornin'," he mutters to himself. Skizz on the other hand lets out a whoop at the satisfying crack in his back, before immediately thrusting into bickering with Impulse.

"Dipple-Dop, you killed me!" Skizz exclaims, and Unnamed gets the feeling that they should cover their ears, like a child does when their parents fight. "ME-?! You're the one who used the monkey paw!" Impulse retorts. Skizz, "Well, you shouldn't have given it to me!" Impulse, "But you literally asked me for it!" Skizz, "Well, I wouldn't have if you didn't instigate me!" Impulse, "Oh, come on! You..."

Unnamed tunes them out and focuses on Scar and Grian, all thoughts having left their head out of pure shock, believing this must be some twisted fever dream. It makes sense, they think, they have been tasked with reviewing GIGS' reports for the past month after all.

In truth, the only reason Unnamed is here in the first place is because Skizz didn't read a form before signing it. With their previous check, GIGS received a form that was asking about sending someone to monitor and review their methods and see if they're fit to formally become employees. It was really just an effort to get to know something about these mysterious volunteers, though.

Skizz, however, just skimmed the part gushing about how much the company appreciates their hard work and the benefits of becoming real hires, not actually reading the part about the employee evaluation, assuming they were just going to get the rewards. He signed it and wrote down the GIGS Crew email address he created a minute ago, hence why Unnamed is now here. Yippie.

They tune into Grian and Scar's conversation as they vaguely register Impulse and Skizz's continued, albeit quieter, bickering in the background. Scar is griping about the crick in his neck, "Why do you guys always have to leave a guy in the most uncomfortable positions, huh?" Grian responds blunty with zero hesitation, "Because it's funny," he snorts.

Unnamed tunes them out too as their brain starts to reboot enough to process that they are supposed to be dead. Why are they not dead-?!

Grian notices Unnamed staring in the corner and clears his throat above everyone else's chatter, making a gesture towards them once he has their attention. Unnamed can feel their heart sink straight through the floor, and a metaphorical noose tighten around their neck.

He looks over at Scar and Skizz, "You two really couldn't wait to get back up, could you? Remember, we. have. COMPANY!" Grian punctuates each word in that statement with a clap.

The two sheepishly look over at Unnamed while Impulse looks mildly panicked. Scar and Impulse were cooking up some half-baked excuses, and Skizz is malfunctioning when Grian sighs and relents a bit, "Okay, we're really not being that subtle anyway, are we?"

Scar is spewing a ridiculous explanation in the background, "They uh, shocked us back to life while you weren't looking, yeah!" A whisper from Skizz shuts him up, "I'm no expert, but I don't think that's how that works, buddy." Scar deflates a bit, "But that's all I've got..." Skizz rubs a comforting hand on his back, "I know, dude, at least ya' tried."

Before Unnamed can get enough of a grip on themself and ask what in the hell is happening, the ride ends, simultaneously having taken an eternity and also been way too short.

Grian slips out of the driver seat and ushers them outside quickly, them now standing in front of the company's main building looking lost. "Wait!" Impulse stops Grian from driving off, "You forgot your employee evaluation sheet. It looks oddly blank..." Impulse trails off before snapping out of his stupor, "Sorry! Didn't mean to pry. I'm probably not meant to read that, huh?" He slips the report into Unnamed's hand when they don't take it on their own.

"Oh, and would you mind taking in our report for this job too?" Despite the lack of a response, Impulse slips the report into their hands anyway, "Thanks, pleasure working with you! Sorry for any disturbances we many of caused." Impulse calls out as he steps back into the vehicle, Grian driving away as soon as the door closes, as if driving away will solve all their problems.

Unnamed starts to mindlessly wander inside the building, robotically turning in the report and submitting their evaluation sheet for review, one to the standard job review department and one to HQ. 'It really is a bit blank, huh?' They think passively. They're not really there, still feeling like they're floating in nothingness, but it's the first coherent thought they've had regarding reality in a while, so they'll take anything at this point.

Before they know it, they've found their way into the overnight stay room. Most investigations occur at night, so they have two rooms with sectioned off areas, each area containing a twin bed and a nightstand. It would look uncannily like a hospital if the nightstands were metal instead of wood.

They look up at the clock in the room and distantly note that its 2:17 am. Barely acknowledging that, they ungracefully flop onto the nearest available bed and pass out unceremoniously, not even taking off their shoes. The last thing to cross their mind before drifting off into a dreamless sleep is absolute certainty that this must just be a really strange nightmare induced by lack of proper sleep, and with that, they are at peace.

~

Unnamed hazily blinks their eyes open the next morning to see a silhouette sitting on their bedside, vaguely recognizing them as their friend, Unidentified. They can't focus on that though, only signing in relief now that that disturbing dream was over, writing it off as nerves for the upcoming job with GIGS. They're probably completely normal people, if a bit unorthodox.

This illusion is quickly shattered, though, because as soon as Unnamed is conscious enough to listen, their friend speaks, "So, how was it?" Unidentified stares at them with clear excitement, bouncing up and down a bit where they sat.

Unnamed, still pitifully oblivious, tilts their head in confusion, "How was what?" It's Unidentified's turn to be confused, "What do you mean, 'How was what?' The job with GIGS, obviously!" Unidentified exclaims incredulously.

Unnamed's face slowly morphs into one of unbridled horror as they realize that that wasn't a dream.

The next thing they know, they've sat up, fully awake, getting up and brushing themself off. Unidentified quickly switches from excited to worried, "Unnamed, are you okay?"

Unnamed can barely recall how to string together the sounds they call language to reply, "Yeah, I uh... I just need to go report something to HQ." Before Unidentified can respond, Unnamed has rushed out the door, straightening out their attire so that they look at least somewhat presentable in front of the company's head.

They file a request for an immediate meeting with the higher-ups, stressing the importance of it. They add that it has to do with Team GIGS as an afterthought, hoping it'll peak their curiosity.

And so Unnamed sits there, standing in the lobby with pumping adrenaline as they come to terms with a stark truth:

The GIGS crew is not human.

~•~

Bonuses!

POV GIGS Before:

"Look, Grian, I know you don't wanna leave the van, but this time you have to!" Impulse tries to reason, though he knows he's fighting a losing battle.

Grian refuses to relent, gaze boring into Impulse with several Eyes, "But whyyyy?!"

Impulse lets out an exhausted sigh, he's been at this for a while, "You know why, an inspector is going to be hunting with us this time, and they're human! We have to give them van duty or else they could die in the house. Like actually die."

Grian let's out an indignant whine, his wings puffing out in defiance, "And? There's gonna be five of us, can't we both just be in the van or something?"

"Grian, you and I both know that out of everyone here, except for maybe Gem, you get along with humans the least. You don't even try to be friendly!" Impulse counters. He can see Grian's resolve beginning to falter as he continues, "You don't wanna be stuck in the van with a 'strange mortal' the whole time, do you?" He uses air quotes, trying to speak Grian's language, and it's working.

Grian visibly deflates a little bit, crossing his arms and looking away as he bites out a bitter, "no." He's staring with only two eyes now, so that's progress Impulse thinks.

Skizz finally cuts in, not having wanted to get involved when Grian was still yelling, but will now that he's somewhat calm, "Listen buddy, it's not like you've never left the van before! You do it whenever Gemstone joins us, and sometimes when a bunch of us are dead!" Skizz chuckles a bit, "It's nothin' you haven't done before, G-Sharp."

Grian fully deflates this time, tension releasing from his body as looks at his feet and heaves a sigh of his own, "Fiiiine. The stupid human can have the vaaaan." He pouts, but it's the best they're going to get so they take it.

Impulse finally lets out a breath of relief, glad that he's avoided the possible murder of their inspector. Void, he really feels like a single mom sometimes.

~•~

POV GIGS After:

Grian is most definitely driving faster than the speed limit allows, not that he particularly cares. That went horribly, the human saw Scar and Skizz revive themselves for Void's sake!

In truth, they were never really dead. They really just couldn't bend their death-related rules they set for a day, huh? He has the urge to bury his face in the steering wheel as he drives. "This is why I avoid mortals," he grumbles to himself.

~

When they arrive at their designated "ghost hunting lobby," as they call it, they all devolve into various states of stress.

Grian face-plants into sofa and screams into a throw pillow, Eyes forming and popping around his head like lava. Impulse is pacing around the room like a maniac, pointed tail swishing back and forth in distress. Scar sits on the armchair, fiddling with his cane and pushing a hand through his hair, his eyes practically stapled open, gazing into space. Skizz just kind of stands there, his tail also swishing in anxiety as he dreads the inevitable.

Scar finally shatters the silence, "Now, I don't wanna point fingers, but," he points at Skizz, "kinda your fault, Skizz." There it is, there's what Skizz was dreading.

He tries to defend himself anyways, "Alright listen, I know that most of this is my fault for signing that dumb form, but you can't deny that we all messed up at least a little bit."

Impulse stops pacing at that. Grian doesn't move from his misery on the sofa, not reacting at all.

"I- yeah, Skizz is right. We all kind of screwed up. I think our main problem was how casually we acknowledged death. It's surprisingly easy to forget that humans don't view life as a game..." Impulse rubs the back of his neck, guilty.

Skizz still looks apologetic though, "Yeah, just know I'm really sorry about that. Maybe don't put me on mail duty anymore."

Scar stands up, his skin having taken on a blue blue sheen, his edges a little sharper, and small translucent wings behind him. "It's okay man, I probably would have done the same thing," he picks up a Jellie that's winding in between his legs, "plus we both kinda revived while Unnamed was right there, so you can't take all the blame for that."

"Thanks dude, that means a lot." Skizz slings an arm over Scar's shoulder.

Grian finally sits up, "So what happens now?" All heads turn to him, their stares questioning.

Eyes have never bothered Grian, since he has more of them, so he stands up fully and elaborates, "Well, within the next few days, the company is gonna know we're not human. What exactly do we do now?" A contemplating pause followed by a sad voice, "Do we... have to quit ghost hunting?"

The room goes deathly quiet. They... didn't think about that. Even Skizz and Scar look crestfallen. It's Impulse who pipes up, "No, we don't." he says surprisingly self-assured, all eyes now on him.

Impulse continues on, "I mean, Skizz and I just kinda showed up one day and they couldn't get rid of us, them knowing what we are isn't gonna change that. How exactly would they stop us?" The crew looks a little less depressed at that.

"Plus," Impulse looks hesitant for a moment, "Unnamed's reaction to death reminded me of how fragile human life really is, so even if we're only doing this for fun," he looks to each of them, "it makes me feel like we're protecting them, even if just by taking the lethal jobs."

Skizz perks up at the notion, and Scar breaks out into a grin, waltzing over to Impulse and slinging an arm over his shoulder. Jellie wanders off to go paw at Grian, who's sat back down, still squeezing that throw pillow.

Scar has regained his aura of grandeur, as he joins Impulse in cheering them up, "Yeah, I like that! We're helping by dying where they can't!" He looks very excited at the thought.

It's Skizz's turn to join the building huddle, an arm finding it's way on Impulse's other shoulder. "Oh yeah! Good guy Skizzleman, saving mortals from the horrors of death!" He pumps a fist in the air.

Grian gets up, Jellie trailing behind, and reluctantly joins the hug, arms around Scar and Skizz and his wings around all of them. "I don't care what happens to those humans, but whatever," grian mumbles. Impulse just smiles fondly at him, because despite how he pretends not to, Impulse can see just how much Grian truly cares. He doesn't have to understand mortals to care for them.

The soft moment is interrupted by a ding from Skizz's phone. They untangle their arms as Skizz checks what it is.

He perks up excitedly, "Oh, it's our report's review for the job!" He chuckles a bit, "If one good thing came out of signing that form, it's that we now get almost instant results!"

He clicks on the email, eager to see if they guessed right. Spoiler, they did not.

"What-?!" His face contorts to one of disbelief, "A Mare-?! How?" Grian shoots up at Skizz's outburst, clearly upset.

"What-?! Yeah how-?! That thing wasn't turning off any lights!" He squawks indignantly, a few Eyes floating over Skizz's shoulder to read it himself.

Scar looks wholly unaffected, "Eh, I don't really know how we got Onryo in the first place, I was too busy being dead."

Impulse seems to slowly come to a conclusion, "Well, if you think about it, we weren't really turning the lights on to begin with," his voice picks up a bit, "We were putting so many candles out for the Onryo test, that—"

Skizz finishes, "We stopped turning on the breaker 'cause the candlelight was enough!"

None of them have to turn around to see Grian facepalming, the scream of frustration enough for them to paint that picture themselves, "I hate this game!"

Grian isn't done with his rampage, "But wait, doesn't Mare also need spirit box?" He looks to Impulse for confirmation, and continues once he gets a nod, "But I did spirit box so well though! I had great coverage."

Impulse puts up a hand placatingly, "Yeah, I agree, you did spirit box pretty good, but we were on Nightmare, so spirit box probably just probably wasn't one of the two random evidence."

Grian crosses his arms, "Or maybe it's because someone," he casts a glare at Impulse, though he means nothing malicious by it, "just had to prestige, leaving us with shoddy level 1 equipment." He sighs however, "But you're probably right. We didn't really look that hard for Ghost Writing, did we?"

He wanders off to grumble to himself a little longer, and they all laugh at Grian's pity-party. They end up sitting on sofa together for a while, just chatting about things they couldn't talk about while Unnamed was there.

Impulse is telling a story from Hermitcraft earlier that day, but he stops when Gem comes up in it, paling, "Oh Void..."

Impulse's face unravels into one of dread, a realization forming, "Gem's gonna smack us all upside the head for this." Oh. Oh no. They all shudder in unison. They're screwed.

~•~

Thanks for reading my little self-indulgent AU-idea turned into a fic!

This was originally meant to just be an AU idea, but I blinked and I'd written a whole fic, so yeah.

I think I'll edit this a bit and post it on Ao3 too of that interests anyone.

Feel free to use the idea however you want, just tag me, I wanna see what you do :)

[writers-melancholy]

Two Moons [Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Female!OC]

Trigger Warning: Incest/ Twincest (its game of thones)

word count: 1017k

Check out part 2: a tattletale and moon tea

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

It was early afternoon having just finished her mid day meal, she sat on her favorite cushion in her favorite seat practicing her needle point, her maids bustling around her doing their menial tasks when without warning her guard suddenly announces “The Prince Aemond Targaryen.” as he abruptly enters the room. 

“Brother?” she questioned softly, glancing up expectantly.

Aemond approached her, standing a mere two feet away, his hands resting on the pommel of his sword, his jaw clenching as he spoke “You've been sending Ravens to Dragonstone, why?” with a calm but demanding tone.

Her eyebrow raised ever so slightly, startled she asked “How do you know about the ravens?”

He stared at her intently “I followed one on Vhagar.” he paused, shifting slightly, adjusting the placement of his hands. “Now answer me.” he continued with a subtle impatience, a tone that Viserra knew all too well this was her que so she calmly looked to her lady’s maid and with a silent glance excused her and the others wanting to be alone with her dear twin. 

They were silent as the room emptied only once the last member of staff had exited she gently replied, “I wrote to Jacaerys Velaryon.” her head skewed slightly, a small grin crept across her lips “Does that make you uncomfortable?” she inquired, setting her needle point onto the seat next to her shifting slightly before giving him her full attention.

He paused for a moment, baffled but stoic, before urging eagerly “Why are you writing to him?” He stood unmoving, wanting so badly to join her, to take up space next to her.

“I want to see him.” came flatly as she stared him down, her expression unchanging as she stood up moving closer to him trying to conceal her growing anxieties over this obvious integration. It wasn't the first time her dear twin was bothered by something she did but this time was different ‘does he know?’ she thought ‘no, Aemond would be more direct than this.’

He too knew his sweet sister and knew she wasn't telling him everything, cleverly hiding his shock he probed urgently “What reason could you possibly have to see him?” he could feel his tempers rising.

Yet flatter still, she responds “Only that I love and wish to marry him.” she playfully ended trying to soothe her own temper growing irritated at this game of twenty questions.

He sputtered incredulously “You cannot be serious.” pausing to try and control the fury bubbling up inside “He's a bastard!” he bellowed, losing control of himself, his cheeks gaining a distinct red flush to them.

Taken aback she retorted “He may not be a Velaryon but he’s  just as much a Targaryen as we are!” her eyebrows furrowed in frustration, her own temper daring to strike back.

“We are pure!” he shouted, grabbing onto her arms tightly “They are dirt!” shaking her slightly  “We are born from the same blood from the same womb and he is a filthy Strong! You cannot love him, not him and not you!” he stated with a fierce finality

“He isn't dirt!” she yelped ”He loves me!”

“And what do you know of love?!” he demanded, staring into her eyes for an answer, loosening his grip.

“I know more than you!” she all but screamed, taking a step back to free herself “You don't love anyone, Aemond!” As they both took a moment to catch their breath in the now silent room Aemond quickly stepped forward and caught Viserra in a gentle kiss. 

“I love you.” he whispered gently after parting. “You and I are meant to be, we were born for each other and no one else.” his breathing hitched as he reached to caress her cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over her bottom lip still wet from the kiss. His body felt frozen wanting so badly to kiss her again, and yet longing for more than just a mere kiss. 

Viserra hadn't moved, too scared to ruin the moment “Aemond..” she whispered.

“Viserra..” he breathed as he slowly bent down to kiss her once more.

Before the kiss could be executed she interrupted him with a guilty whisper “I bedded him..”

she didn't dare to move away, but instead searched his eye for a hint at his next move. 

He took a sharp step back, his face twisting with disbelief, confusion and then finally settling on anger. “Avy Mittys!”/ “You idiot!” He hissed in High Valyrian “when!?” he asked, losing his temper once more.

“two moons ago..” she again whispered. If she had been able to look at anything other than her feet she would have seen the anger on his face turn to confusion as realization hit. “Two moons..” he recalled, taking a brief pause before continuing “Viserra, are you with child?” His voice fell flat waiting for her response but once he saw the corners of her mouth curving into a smile he knew, his heart felt like it was sinking. He stumbled back catching himself on a nearby chair.

“Aemond..” she spoke softly but he lifted his hand swiftly, silently shushing her before his hand rubbed over his nose and mouth as he tried to think. “Who knows?” He questioned

“Only you..” she beamed. “I wanted to tell Jacaerys in person.”

“We can fix this…” he mumbled “there is still time to correct this mistake! We must-” he was interrupted by a slap to the face. 

“My child is not a mistake that needs correcting!” Viserra spoke angrily before she turned to walk away being stopped by a forceful grab of her arm. 

“Viserra!” Aemond pleaded “Don't do this..” 

She turned to look at him and the utter devastation on his face melted her heart but she simply smiled before taking his hand with hers and gently removing it from her arm before walking out of the room. 

Leaving a devastated Aemond in her wake 'how could she!' he thought, his mind desperately trying to find a solution. After all he was her protector and he would protect her from this at whatever costs.

[ketsueki-writes]

Hii! I saw you're doing that 'welcome back beloved' event and wanted to ask if you could write some headcanons about jjk men(preferably gojo, itadori and choso but if you only write for one I'll be fine with just choso) with a fem!reader who has narcolepsy and cataplexy?

If you don't know what that is narcolepsy is a sleep disorder witb symptoms such as excessive daytime sleepiness (so basically a reader who sleep a lot and can fall asleep anywhere. Also narcoleptics need to take a 10-20min nap before doing something that needs concentration)

And cataplexy is a sudden and transient episode of muscle weakness accompanied by full conscious awareness, typically triggered by emotions such as laughing (so basically a reader who experiences muscle weakness in her whole body when she laughs or gets too excited)

I hope it's not too much and not too hard for you😭 Thank you!💗

ɪ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴏɴ! <3

ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ! ɪ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ.

♡ Satoru Gojo

Somehow you've always been so predictable to him. He knew whenever he pushed open the door of your home that there you'd be. Preparing. He walked in quietly, shutting the door behind him as he neared you. He pressed a hand to the wall as he slid off his shoes, watching you with a sweet smile across his lips. He set his hands to his sides, sliding them in his pockets as he neared you, hushed and full of admiration. His head turned slightly as he checked the clock on the wall, his eyes quickly finding their way back to you as the moment he got the time. It was nearing the part of the day where you'd go about whatever task you set out to do that morning. Whether it'd have been cleaning or something on that computer of yours he knew he'd find you here- preparing.

Sleeping.

At first he didn't get it- narcolepsy. He joked that it sounded like necromancy and you slapped his arm, telling him to cut it out while he laughed. However once he got it, he got it good, reminding you to take it easy and watching for any sudden bouts of drowsiness that might befall you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing a hand to your cheek as he softly thumbed your chin, whispering sweet nothings in a way that seemed almost too loving for his normal taste out in the world. He soon looked around, figuring the couch wasn't quite good enough for you. He loved to the front of the couch, bending forward as he went to scoop you into his arms before you moved. He froze, curiously looking- his eyes growing wide like his smile as you hummed slightly, pushing yourself up to your side.

The white haired man's feeling gleamed brightly on his face as he squatted down in front of you, whispering softly "Hello sleepy-head" before your eyes finally focused on him.

He gleamed as you did, he'd been waiting all day to see those pretty eyes and finally he got the opportunity to do so. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as your arms wrapped around his neck. He pulled you in closely, his familiar scent filling you as the two of you embraced.

"Missed you too-" he snarked, grinning as you pulled back slightly to look at him. You only playfully rolled your eyes as he chuckled, picking you up and into his arms. "So- what's the plan for today?" he asked softly into your ear. "I'm thinking, maybe me, you, some food and a movie huh-" he added.

You'd like that, and he'd like it a lot more.

♡ Choso

You quickly moved around the house, quick of course but not too quick. You didn't want to trigger any sort of episodes.

You needed the place to be as clean as possible, as spic and span as you possibly could. You had so much that was going to be happening- but regardless of all of it only one part stood out from among the rest.

He was soon to be home.

You smiled to yourself at the thought, doing your best to keep calm before you heard the doorbell ring. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt all those giddy nerves finally form one single fireball-

and down you went.

Panic set in as you felt the control you once had beginning to slip from your fingers. You could've sworn you heard the doorbell ring again but you weren't sure. You tried to fight it, feeling a wave crash through you as your muscles began to lose tone.

Cataplexy is something you'd had for as long as you could remember and you knew what triggered it but how were you meant to help yourself. Who could be calm when the love of their life was just on the other side of the door?

You opened your mouth to try to a call for help, a task that seemed ferociously hard before the lock clicked and turned, the knob moving slightly before turning itself. You began to collapse on yourself as if you were melting as the door began to open.

If you'd have blinked you'd have missed it.

You weren't the only one excited for him to be home.

As if it were the Flash himself he moved, the dark-haired man wrapping his arms around you as you sank, cradling your body into his. You looked up at him as he smiled, holding your body close to his.

"I missed you too baby," he said sweetly, running a hand alongside your cheek before he lifted you to the couch, letting you down in his lap. Your body felt comfortable against him, each piece of you melting to him out of your control but he seemed to like it better this way. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, holding his there as he breathed deeply against you. He finally pulled away with a face of nothing but clear adoration.

Choso was usually very calm and reserved but he made a point to show his affection to you whenever he was around you, whether it be small gestures or touch. You knew for certain his love and care for you, even with a debilitating disease such as this one.

Because he loved you, so very much.

[kallystah]

~~ How to survive on the victoria punk~~ kidd x reader

warning : bad language

4877 words

Wash the hold. Scrape the hull. Wipe the deck. Fold the sail. Rinse and wring out the monster skin. Set the table. That was what she had heard constantly since she had come aboard the ship, orders. And she was sick of it. Badly.

She had barely finished one task when she was given another, sometimes she was given two tasks to do at the same time, and other pirates would give her their own jobs. When they weren't even the captains or mates

-Slave come wipe our shoes. We got them dirty running away from Sabaody. Ordered a man, holding out his stinking boot dripping with mud as he laughed with his comrade.

-You're not the captain as far as I know, asshole. She replied, spitting on his boot.

-Say it again, you dirty brat!

And there we go again, she had pissed off one of the crew members again, a crew known for its remorseless massacres.

-Didn't you hear? In addition to being stupid, you must be deaf?

She received a slap that sent her waltzing to the other side of the front deck.

-Listen, slave. I think there's something you don't understand. He began, grabbing her collar with his grip. No one supports you here, okay, if I want to give you orders, I do it. The captain won't stop me, he doesn't give a fuck about you.

On one hand, he was absolutely right. The captain of this ship had accepted her on board in the rush of the moment, but whether she was mistreated or enslaved, he didn't care. But on the other hand, she wouldn't let it happen. Too bad for the bruises, if she could get him a right in the mouth she would come out the winner.

So she executed her thoughts, and gave him a punch full in the nose. While his comrade fell to the ground with a bloody face, she had strength in her arms, the other pirate took his pistol and prepared to shoot the woman. She closed her eyes and waited for death, she had just escaped from it that she had to join it a few days later.

Luckily for her, the sound of the trigger was never heard. Instead, she heard a metallic click and felt herself lifted.

-Killer let go of me.

-No. The captain wants to talk to you.

He didn't add any more explanations and strengthened his hold on the woman, so as to block her between his arm and his torso like a bulky barrel. Once inside the captain's cabin, he let go of her and she fell on her butt.

-Be careful, damn it. She swore.

-You don't have any orders to give to my second. She heard a voice speak at the back of the room. Seriously, you would be a pierced womenif I hadn't taken his weapon. So the metallic noise that had saved her came from him, she thought. I didn't take you on board so that you would die after a week, understood?

-On the other hand, you took me as a slave. The young woman pointed out to him that she took care of all the household chores.

-You would be a slave if I had not saved you.

-It was not you who saved me, it was the other old man.

-You two, calm down. The second intervened in the face of the flashes that the other two in the room were throwing at him.

-I was busy during those days, now you explain to me your relationship with Shanks and what you were doing at the auction. He continued more seriously.

Well. Here come the end of her life. To understand her current situation, it was necessary to go back a week ago, when they had met on the Sabaody Archipelago.

————

The young woman had just arrived on the neutral archipelago, she was finally going to be able to enjoy a little vacation without having to flee the Navy. After all, with the nice bounty she had obtained she was quite sought after, but not enough to be part of the Super Novae.

Her poor raft arrived safely, at a groov far from the city center of the island, she did not want to be noticed more than necessary. Walking on the wooden pontoon, she crossed the forest with huge trees to reach a bar.

-Are you going to go to the auction?

An auction? That interested her. She would not be against going to free a few unlucky people. Yes, she saw herself as a guardian of justice sometimes, even if usually her cruel pirate instincts were more imposing.

-I hear there is a mermaid on display.

-It will change from the usual pussy on legs.

What?

-A mermaid is more beautiful than a human, right?

-I think so, but I've never seen one.

The two pirates, or rather scum, left the bar without even paying. The young woman was revolted by such remarks and disgusted by these monsters. Neutral island or not, they would feel her fist.

So she decided to follow them, paid for her drink, and followed them to a place a little further away from the central aisles.

Joining them in an empty space, she waited hidden behind a tree to see if there were only two of them. Fortunately for her, her patience had saved her life.

-Guys, did you find what I asked you for?

-Yes, boss. We went to two or three bars and there were four or five well-hung chicks that we could sell.

-Perfect. I'll send the others to go get them. Can you give me the aisles?

While those who seemed to be the suppliers of the auction were talking, the young hidden woman clenched her fists so as not to rush at them and kill them instantly. Sure, she was a big brute, but she would never let such insults pass in the words of women.

As she was developing a short plan allowing her not to sow discord during her vacation, she felt a hand on her shoulder

-Hey guys. A man greeted them. I found a good girl who was listening to your conversation. Are you planning to punish her?

The woman's eyes widened, they weren't going to give her a beating, or worse, just for listening to them

-I think selling her will bring us more profit. The other man said with a sly smile.

Actually, getting beaten up would have been better. What had possessed her to play the good Samaritan… was her last thought before feeling a heavy shock at the back of her head.

-So that's how you ended up behind bars. What a spirit of justice. Said the red-haired captain after his speech. That still doesn't tell me what you have to do with Red Shanks. He continued more seriously.

-Well actually… She began.

-Don't try to lie to me. Without me you would already be dead or sent back behind bars.

The woman sighed. It was undeniable that if he hadn't been there, she might not have gotten out of it… When she had escaped from her cell, marines had mistaken her for one of the pirates who had caused the trouble and had gone after her. She had gotten rid of them in her escape, an admiral arriving, but had crossed paths with a pacifista.

She had then been "saved" by the red-haired pirate, even if according to her he had just joined the forces around him to win. Then they had made a deal and she had temporarily boarded his ship.

-Like I told you. I overheard a conversation in the bar, where a woman was talking about the route the emperor was going to take, and also that he was planning to rest on an island.

-What does he tell us that this woman wasn't lying?

-I don't know. Maybe it was one of his conquests who managed to make him talk. But you're the one looking for Shanks, so if you have a lead that could turn out to be true, you'd better follow it. The pirate woman finished, looking at him in the eye.

-Very well. I'll follow your lead like you say. But listen to me carefully, he said, approaching her, if you lied to me and Shanks isn't on this island, you end up in the sea. Is that clear? He finished his sentence, holding the woman's chin with his fingers.

-Very clear, captain.

-You're not a member of my crew.

Ouch. He was right, once again, but she would have liked the terms of the agreement to include her in the crew, in order to enjoy a little more during the long months they would spend together.

-If I am not one of your crewmates, and my stay as a slave is over, then why are you giving me all these household chores?

-I just asked you to wash and tidy the hold. Well if you want to sleep in dust you choose but go ahead tell me what are these other tasks as you say.

-Oh that bastard.

Having just understood, the woman stormed out of the captain's room, and looked on the deck for a certain face.

-Gig bastard come here!

The so-called Gig approached, a superior smile on his lips.

-Did it made you laugh to give me all these tasks by making them pass under the captain's orders huh?

-Gig, explain yourself. Said the captain in question as he followed the woman.

-Uh, Captain. He said, all sheepish. I can explain to you…

-Explain what to him? Tell him that you were passing on your tasks to me? Tell him that you had been slacking off for three days? Oh no! I know! The woman looked him in the eyes, a devilishly happy smile on her face, or was it rather euphoric? Admit to him that you were defying your captain's authority by pretending to be him.

He was dead. Among the things that the pirate knew how to do, the manipulation of words was at its peak. And it would seem that Kidd had been easily manipulated on the spot, throwing the ex-pirate to port.

-If you go back on this ship, you're dead.

Then the red-haired pirate headed for his cabin, leaving faces that were not the least bit shocked on his crewmates. Apparently, it was Kidd's habit to get rid of those who didn't know their place. It was quickly settled at least, the pirate thought before finally resting.

————

The days had flown by at the speed of the sea winds, and it had now been more than a month since the passing pirate had been aboard the Victoria Punk. Her days were calmer than the first week since Kidd had put things in order, but she wasn't idle either.

The task she had been given was to clean the cutlery after each meal, so three times a day she spent a hour in the kitchen washing spoons and forks for the many crew. Apart from these services, the pirate did nothing. Taking advantage of the free vacation she was offered.

She was currently on the front deck, some fabric laid on the ground and she was lying on it enjoying the sun, sun that was cut off by a large shadow above her head and soon her whole body. Damn giant.

-Hi Y/n. How's the tanning?

-Oh, hi Wire. Well as you can see I've finished my afternoon task so I'm relaxing.

The man laughed. She and Wire had gotten along well since she joined the ship. In fact, he was one of the only people who talked to her.

-I understood that you were busy training the latest recruits. More of a massacre than training for me…

-Is that why you didn't want to participate?

-Don't want to die under Heat's flames. She said under his laughter.

-Otherwise the Cap'tn asked me to go bring you to him.

The woman got up, she would continue her break later if the captain wanted to see her.

-Kidd? Does he know that I exist?

-What ? Did you miss him because you haven't spoken for a month?

-Stop taking me for his girlfriend Wirie. She looked at him, throwing lightning bolts at him.

-It's not my fault if you look like the girls he picks up on the islands. They always have the same hair as you, that must be his style. He continued, smiling mockingly.

-Besides, does he never come by himself? Do I scare him? Always sending you. Poor you. She said ironically.

yes of course… Come on, stop being ironic, we're here. Unless you want him to pin you against a wall, but I don't think it will be to kiss you.

Wire, get lost, I think I can open a door by myself.

And the giant left while laughing at his friend. While she, she mentally prepared herself for what the captain could say to her, given that he had not spoken to her since their last discussion a month ago.

-Eustass Kidd, to what do I owe the honor of being able to visit you? She said, accompanying a curtsy.

-Spare me your damn bullshit and flattery and explain it to me. He said to her, throwing a newspaper on her desk.

-So here we have the daily column that was delivered by a Martin Postman this very morning. Martin that one of your guys almost plucked while wondering if his feathers could be used or worth anything.

-Didn't you do that?

-No! I captured him for a snack. But I see that the captain is interested in me!

-Enough joking, look at the wanted poster.

… Holy crap. She said, inspecting the paper.

-That's the case. Why didn't you tell me you had a bounty?

-Well, I didn't see the point. Besides, my bounty is nothing compared to yours.

-65,000,000 berries. Yes, it's lower than mine, i'm so lucky that a kid like you is inferior to me, but how did you get a bounty like that? You never train! You spend your time sleeping in the sun!

-You really spied on me!

-You're visible from my office Y/n.

-Ha.

She hoped he hadn't seen all the stupid things she had done over the course of the month.

-So, can you explain?

-Actually… she began, how can I put it? Basically, I'm quite curious. And I like gold. So let's say that when a big navy ship arrives at a port, I like to head into the holds or the chief's office… just to see if there's anything interesting. And often there's a lot of gold and food! But by stealing from them I've built up a reputation, and when I'm caught, ordinary marines can't handle it, so they die of their injuries… that's it.

So there, if the captain didn't expect it, that was the case. The woman he had taken in as a slave and whom he had helped to escape was actually wanted for theft and massacre? Now that he thought about it, she hadn't fought that much with the Pacifista.

He couldn't help but be like, proud. Yes he was proud to have a strong person like her in his crew. Well, in his ship he thought better of it.

-Well, from now on you-

-Captain! A man yelled as he slammed the office door, did he have suicidal thoughts? There's a pirate ship that's been following us for a while now. We think it wants to attack us.

-Call Killer and the others. Get ready to fight! He ordered. It's going to bleed.

-Oh my. Rude brute.

-Do you have a problem with my orders bitch?

-Not at all. I was wondering if I could join the fight, it's been a while since I snapped my neck, like you stopped me from doing last month. She frowned in reproach.

-Then go ahead and show me that you're worthy of being on this ship.

————

-Come on Y/n, join the training sessions. A voice complains.

-No, I don't want to end up burned.

-Heat will be careful just for you.

-Wire, Wire, Wire… My dear friend, why do you want me to join you so much. You're sooo dangerous.

-It's because you're also 'sooo dangerous'. We've seen how you fight. You can knock people out with just one strike, you're stronger than most of the guys here. Don't act like a choirboy.

In fact, since the last time, when she proved her place by quickly dislocating a few marines, Wire and a few other pirates must have accepted her because of her strength, took turns coming to get her to make her participate in their training sessions.

-Besides, why did you want to be Miss Perfect who saves innocent slaves in Sabaody? Kidd shouted.

Indeed, this one seemed more likely to want to know her and participated in their discussions from time to time, also asking her questions. Not far from displeasing the female pirate who was happy to gradually pierce the supernova's shell.

-Well, they didn't deserve to suffer this fate. If it had been a celestial dragon living the life of a slave after all he had done, I would have just admired the show. But there they hadn't asked for anything. And I didn't like how they talked about women.

-And why do you want to save the women? Like when we attacked the island the other day and you stopped the other one from killing one while you yourself were killing one. They are weak, they will die quickly in any case. I'm not talking about you, eh. He rushed before her gaze.

-Because my dear Eustass, oh when she took that tone it was because she was serious, weak women as you say, face many things that you would not even imagine. You will never notice it because in your mind it is a normal thing as it has always been like this. And that is the problem. Now you would do better to shut up and not underestimate all that we endure. Thank you.

She finished her tirade smiling. One could have believed that she was sincerely thanking him if he could take her cause seriously, but by general opinion, it seemed more like a warning. If he spoke like that about the woman again, he would suffer the consequences, chief or not.

A few hours later, the red-haired captain came back to see her. He had something important to tell her but had preferred to wait. He found her as usual on an old animal skin enjoying the sun on the completely deserted front deck.

-Y/n we should talk.

-Are you going to confess your feelings to me?

-Are you out of your mind? He said disgusted.

-Well I don't know I imagine. The last guy who told me "let's talk" he declared himself.

-He must have had to. He smiled.

-Shut up. Anyway what do you want.

-We're going to arrive on a desert island soon.

-Wow impressive.

-Let me finish. I'm going to drop off some men so they can build and set up a landmark. I've had contacts in the underworld and it could bring us a lot.

-I'm afraid I don't understand Eustass Kidd.

His governmental name. A sign that she wasn't very happy. At the same time with what he was about to tell her…

-You're going to stay there.

Excuse me?

She took it badly. Too bad, he would have no choice but to use strong methods.

-Don't argue with orders. You stayed on this ship much longer than expected. I remind you that you are not part of the crew.

And that sentence again. She thought that indirectly she had joined him, with all the time and memories they had spent together.

-So I'm not part of it, but you're asking me to take care of your future palace. Aren't you a little too cheeky there?

-Y/n… Don't take it like that.

-No Kidd! She was getting angry. I won't do anything that I won't gain anything for. Tell me the counterpart.

-I'll let you join the crew.

-Huh?

-If you manage to establish a good mark and a name in the underworld until I get back, then you will officially join the crew.

-So you let me supervise everything? Did he have the necessary trust in her to let her take the lead?

-Yes.

-Very well. Deal done. Now you tell me for how long you will be gone and to do what. Even if I already have a hypothesis.

-Big Mom.

-But you are completely crazy! I give you the road for the other Red and you attack another emperor. She shouted under his murderous gaze.

-I have business to do with this one. Then I will go find the Red.

-Ha. She sighed, completely crazy. It will take you time then, well if you come back. Don't look at me like that Kidd I know you will come back

-It will take you a whole year

Oh yeah.

Yeah.

The conversation had become somewhat awkward. Not knowing what to say anymore, the woman asked him when they would arrive on the desert island, to which he answered three days. So she only had three days left with her friends. Since she was sure that Kidd would take Killer and Wire with him. But hey, a new adventure awaited her.

————

Fourteen months. Fourteen fucking months of shit since Kidd and Wire had left. She had handled the paperwork and negotiations to establish a base, which had been difficult. Then she had wiped away all the remarks from some who didn't take her seriously, but she had gotten her revenge, at worst she would tell Kidd that the hunt for the monsters on the island had gone badly.

Then she had had to find the funds to build, because it seemed that her future captain had underestimated the necessary price, so she had gone for a walk in the nearest richest city, more precisely to the port in order to retame her old habits. Of course, she had been caught by the navy, so she had made a bloodbath and her bounty had increased to 80,000,000 Berry. So she had received an angry call from Kidd asking her to play it low-key, but deep down she was proud. Routine, you know.

As for the underworld side, she had found some talent in the business, having quickly made a name for herself in it. So she thought she would get a call from Kidd who called her once a month to talk to her about it. But nothing. Three months that his reputation had been traced, and still no call. He might have died. No, she would have seen it in the newspaper.

-Captain Y/n.

Oh yes. He will kill her for that detail too. It could be that, by mistake, she let it be understood that she was the head of their organization. Since she had managed everything from A to Z concerning the underworld. And the people she had hired to help her liked to call her that. She was definitely dead.

-Yes Rackham?

-There is a boat that seems to be the Victoria that was spotted less than two miles away. But it is accompanied by other boats.

-Holy crap.

-Captain?

-Call me Y/n, come on, we're friends. Anyway, take my place and forge my signature on the left pile. I'm going! She said, running from her office.

-But Captain!

-I said Y/n! She yelled from the other end of the hallway.

She was definitely screwed. But it was time for a reunion. And something was pressing, why were there several ships? Kidd had left with three ships, but his second would have told him if the other ships were theirs. Although what seemed to make her pace quicken, and another organ, was more the person sailing on one of the ships.

-Eustass Kiddou! You're back! She shouted as she reached the port.

Said Kiddou raised his head at that name. Only one person on earth and sea had dared to call him that, and those, during goodbyes that had happened fourteen months ago.

-The bitch?

-Hey, I can call you bastard too for our reunion. She said as she arrived in front of him.

-Your stay in the crew will be short if you say that.

-Wait, that's it!

-I told you, didn't I?

-Yes yes. Thank you Cap'tain Kidd. She said as she approached him, encircling her little arms on his robust waist. Wait. There's a thickness missing.

She moved away from him and looked at him more fully.

-Damn Kidd your arm!

-It was a bastard from the red-head's crew who did it to me.

-I told you I should have come. I could have prevented you from being hurt and also-

She didn't have time to finish her sentence, a muscular arm carrying her against a torso. Kidd was hugging her?

-Kidd I'm very happy to see you again huh. But you're breaking my back there…

-Oh yes sorry.

-Ahem.

The two turned around to look at the one who had coughed.

-I don't want to interrupt your reunion, but could we have nothing to do with each other? Said a man with long blond hair and a funny tattoo.

-Rackham, takes the other supernovae and their crews to settle in the western districts.

-Rackham is not here captain. You left him in your office.

Oh shit.

-Captain? Kidd pointed out. By any chance, my dear subordinate, he insisted, you haven't taken your ease a little too much during this long year?

-No but I'll explain Kidd.

-It's captain.

-Captain.

-I would be happy to hear your version of the facts in my office. But later.

-Yes, Captain. She replied before he left.

-The captain is not in love, is that it? Wire whispered in her ear. You seemed very close to him for me earlier. What would have happened if the other mouthful had not coughed?

-Hi Wire. Shut up Wire. She smiled.

How pushy could he be with his so-called romance with their captain. Their. She was officially honest now.

-Are we eating together tonight? With Killer, Heat and Kidd. Don't worry, I'll save you a place next to your dear lover.

-You're boring Wire.

————

But what happened? Y/n didn't understand. They had heard a loud noise and then everyone had rushed and when she had looked in the distance, one of their ships had been blown up and had a huge mass on it.

-Kidd! Kidd where the fuck are you? She shouted, coughing.

She had been next to it with her captain when the ship had exploded and had taken a lot of dust, and explosives that were stored inside, in the face. You didn't need to be a doctor to suspect that it wasn't very good for her.

-Y/n!

-Ha, you're here! What happened?

-We have visitors.

-But who jumps out of the sky like that? She panicked.

-An emperor.

-Huh? Which one?

-Kaido and the hundred beasts. And I thought I understood that the other fuckers had betrayed us.

-Kidd, what did I tell you about alliances.

-Oh, that's good!

-Anyway, we're going to go beat him up, are you coming with me?

-No.

-… what do you mean no?

-You're not coming with me. You take care of fleeing and rebuilding our lair somewhere else safely.

-What? That's out of the question Eustass!

-Listen to me Y/n! He shouted in a tone he had never used for her before. Please Y/n…

-What's wrong, Kidd. She softened her voice to the broken sound of her captain's.

-I've never felt my heart beat for anyone except when you're by my side. I don't want you to die. Take the emergency submarine and run away, we'll find each other again.

He took her by the waist, placed his lips on hers as delicately as he could, they exchanged a loving kiss, and he left her to return to the battlefield.

-You better survive, Eustass Kidd! Or I'll kick your ass! She screamed before escaping.

He was right, she had to gather strength and rebuild what she had already done for him, in the same way as fifteen months ago. She would only hinder him given the state she was in if she stayed.

-Very well, Captain. We'll meet again.

Then she left, running as much as she could despite her lungs that were throbbing, she owed that to the one who had saved her life, once again. And then, she knew that he would get through it. No matter the danger, no matter the enemy, no matter the ally, he would get through it. He was strong, and that's why she loved him.

~~the end ~~

Currently wondering if I should make a long and detailed series version of this

masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

If You Can't Dance 3

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

You login for the day with your usual set up. A mug of peppermint tea, your favourite sweater, and your gaming chair set to the most ergonomic setting. You connect to the company's shared server and go through the verification. It's tedious but necessary. You're certain there will be many tedious tasks to come as the merger looms heavy over the newly absorbed startup.

As your Teams pops up, you scroll through your tasks and prepare to start your usual squinting hunch at the screen. You grab your glasses and put them on. You really need to start wearing those.

Bing! You have a message. Oh, jeez, it's Jensen. Your manager, at least for the time being. You don't know what his new job will be in the unified structure. So many questions but you're more concerned with the backend.

'Morning, how's it going?'

He's casual and approachable. At least, from what you can tell over virtual text and the occasional video call. He checks in now and then so you assume this is just the same.

'Alright. Getting started for the day.'

The three dots pop up then disappear, then a new message appears.

'Did you enjoy last night? Didn't get to say hi, you looked like you had fun tho.'

'Oh. I guess.'

'It was nice to see everyone. Anyway, business. Meeting at nine for coders. Invite coming.'

You stare at the screen. Great. You hate team meetings. You always have to give and update but you don't have much to say. You do your work and it's right there for them to see. Why do you need to explain it?

'Got it.'

You send your response and ignore his reaction; a thumbs up. You put a timer on, knowing better than to trust yourself. You go back to your usual, trying to settle in with your minty brew. Last night has put everything off-balance.

Slightly agitated by the spontaneity of the event, you join the Teams meeting and try not to look at yourself among the five rectangles on the screen. Jensen's glasses glare in the camera and you take your own off, hoping to escape behind the blur of your vision. G is there too, the only other coder you've worked with in the company. He's a strange guy, quiet, and no one knows his full name. The other two, Marc and Dharshi round out the group. All of you sit silent, waiting.

"Oh, uh," Jensen unmutes as he seems to remember he's on a call, "alright, guys, I'll try to keep this short. There's a lot to do but I really didn't think that this message should come through an email."

You check your mug, cold and empty. You have a bad feeling about whatever message he's referring to.

"So, I know we've been doing work from home for a while, but, uh, with the new company, we're being asked to consider a more hybrid model. No decision has been made yet but next week, you are all required to report to the new headquarters so that we can meet our new coworkers."

"What?" Dharshi exclaims as Marc scowls. G just stares blankly, you think, it's hard to make out clearly. You probably look just as dull.

"I know, I know, I'm trying to get us down to only a couple days a week in office," Jensen explains, "right now, there's no decision made but we do have to try. There's a different culture with Blue Forest but I think we'll be okay."

G hangs up and Jensen sputters. Dharshi and Marc let out odd noises and you just sit there.

"Oh, must be a bad connection," Jensen laughs nervously, "so... uh, I'll follow-up with G and see you all Monday."

No response. Jensen fills the void with his usual managerial spiel; let me know if you need anything, yada yada. The call ends and you're left deflating in fractured safehold of your home office. Maybe you will all be too awkward and they'll just decide to keep you hidden away. You can only hope.

Oh and don't forget, you still have to go get your car after work.

🐞

Monday comes too fast, your weekend fading into a marathon of Fortnight and nature documentaries. You pull out your most acceptable outfit. Another long skirt and a turtle neck with oxford boots. Hmm, it's more Anne Shirley than business casual.

You drive into the heart of the city, the GPS guiding you to the modern office building with its transparent walls and sleek black structure. You grab your laptop bag, a messenger with butterfly patches sewn onto it. At the door, you're stopped and let in after verifying your Employee ID. You're told to go to the front desk to get your new credentials.

After you get sorted, you're sent down the hall to a conference room. You pass several offices and people you don't know. Your new coworkers. You grip the strap of your bag as a woman pops out of Room 1161B, the very one you were told to go to. You stop short as she smiles at you, her frilly blouse tucked into a sleek white skirt.

"Oh, you must be a new one, I'm Catarina," she offers her hand and you just stare at it. "You'll be in here for the Tech Orientation. There's tea and coffee, some pastries, and full catering will be available at lunch."

"Thanks," you mutter and peek into the empty room.

"You're so early," she praises, "sorry, I didn't catch your name. I need to check you off the list."

You enunciate the syllables clearly so you won't have to repeat yourself then turn into the room. You look around at the tables. Not the traditional long intimidating tabletop but several throughout the space. You don't know where to sit, if you should choose a particular seat, so you go to the waiting urns by the far wall.

You peruse the collection of tea bags. Chamomile, green, Earl Gray...

"Ah, pardon, could I trouble you for English Breakfast if they have it?" A voice nears before the footsteps reach you. The shadow stops beside you, the voice frighteningly familiar. You grab a bag of the English Breakfast and hold it out without looking over. It can't be, what are the odds? "Oh..." he says your name. The accent, the recognition, he knows you and you vaguely know him. Jonathan.

"You work here?" You wonder as you continue to shuffle through the packets.

"Yes, and I assume... you do too. Now. You are among the newly acquired?"

You nod and put down the box of teas.

"Is there something wrong? You don't like the selection?"

"No peppermint," you shrug.

You sidle along and grab a paper cup, instead pressing the spout for the large jug of cold water. The man fills his cup with hot water before tugging on the string of the tea bag, steeping it as he nears you again.

"It's rather a coincidence," he preens, "are you excited to start?"

You know you shouldn't be honest so you do your best to lie, "yeah."

"You certainly sound it," he laughs, "well, please, have a dessert... and a seat. We'll be all out before you know it."

"Thanks," you surpass the plate of tarts and croissants. You sit at the table nearest the corner and stare at the cup of clear water. You should've known to bring your own tea.

[drawingdroid]

The Unknown Regions IV

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Read Chapter 3

This chapter is rated +18! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(

Word count: 3,745

A/N: Din and you have a misunderstanding and actually talk openly about it like ADULTS! I love fiction!!! Finally, smut is here dear readers, I hope you enjoy it. I've struggled like crazy to write this chapter bc smut felt forced and I wanted a smoooth transition. I am not super happy with the result, but hey, I need to know when to let go. I've been thinking this would be interesting from Din's pov too, lemme know what you think. And yes, I know I don't respond to any comments I love reading them but anxiety kills me when I hit reply! I'm so sorry!!!

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

You were so focused on your calculations that you didn't notice Din observing you. Leaning against the doorframe casually, the bounty hunter had his gaze fixated on you. He was stealthy for such a big man, so when his gloved hand gently touched your shoulder your heart skipped a beat.

“¡Mando!” You jumped from your seat. He immediately retrieved his touch as if he had been burnt.

“Sorry I…I didn't want to startle you.”

He looked so uncomfortable right now you felt bad for him. Well, had seemed uncomfortable around you for the two weeks you had been travelling together, so that wasn’t new. You were sure your presence around the ship had prevented him from relaxing at all. It was normal, its size had you clashing with each other all the time and it didn’t provide any privacy. And the Razor Crest, you have learnt, was also his home. Well, his and Grogu's.

He told you about the little one a night he was being especially silent. The moon you had stopped at looked inhabited and arid. He commented it was similar to Arvala-7, the planet where he found the child. After that, you listened while he spoke about how he met his son. His beautiful voice was full of pain and you ended up offering your hand for relief and support. He was hesitant but ended up accepting your warm touch.

Since then, casual physical contact had been a constant between you. With the days passing, you grew bolder with it, no longer squishing yourself to prevent your bodies from touching in the tight space of the Crest, and more like rubbing your plush body against his armour. A friendly hand on his shoulder, his on the small of your back. Therere were brief moments that made your heart flutter at the contact.

The truth was that living together had only made your initial attraction to him grow: observing such a mighty warrior performing the little tasks of day-to-day life was somewhat endearing. The things you could learn about someone just by looking at them at their little routines were incredible. You realized he was a methodical, goal-oriented man, and although he looked serious he did things like speaking with his ship when you wouldn't notice. He was also very caring, not only about Grogu but also his covert, the name he used to refer to the other Mandalorians he lived among. And he had the highest respect for his culture and his creed, something you really admired about him. Every day, you hoped he admired you back, too.

“Don’t worry about it, I tend to become so self-absorbed when I work I forget my surroundings.” You fidgeted nervously with your hair, feeling the burn of his gaze, until his visor shifted to the nav system. “Oh, I calculated the coordinates for the final jump and double-checked them. It’ll take around 30 standard hours to arrive there.” 

Since you were travelling towards uncharted space, you couldn’t just jump to the planet, even though you knew the coordinates it was reckless without knowing the obstacles you could possibly meet, so it was more sensible to do it on shorter jumps.

“Let me check.” Mando leaned towards the console, supporting himself in his strong arms. You hoped your gasp at his sudden closeness wasn’t too audible.

“Are you doubting my calculations?” You meant to sound sassy but your voice came shaky. He was too close, hovering over you while checking the route. If your body wasn’t covered due to the cold of outer space, he could have noticed the goosebumps his proximity provoked.

“You can't drive a ship.” He deadpanned. You didn't feel bad about his affirmation, it was a fact. You had never had the opportunity to learn.

“I know my numbers, Mando.” You retorted, confident in your ability. He stared at you while you tried to remain unbothered. The truth was that the banter and his physical closeness had you a little flushed.  His gaze finally left you to resume checking the panel and you rolled your eyes, although you understood his doubts. After all, his child and his ship were at stake 

“This is flawless.” He admitted after a while, turning his helmet to you again.”Good job.” You opened your eyes widely at the praise and observed his muscular frame towering over you. His beskar looked beautiful, reflecting the starry space. He looked beautiful.

“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” You responded in a small voice, swallowing hard. 

Neither of you moved for a while and you sighed involuntarily.  With how close you were, you could just lean on him as you had been longing to do. To be embraced by his big arms. He sighed, his visor not leaving your frame. You wondered if he felt the pull too. He had to. The magnetic field was just too strong.

“Mando…” He shifted his position, coming even closer to you. You could observe your doe-eyed reflection in his Beskar helmet. He raised his gloved hand and reached for your round shoulder again. This time his touch was gentler than ever and his orange thumb caressed your clothed skin. Mouth dry, you wondered what would his next step be.

“I need…my seat to make the jump.” 

The spell broke. Your brain was not computing. You swore you could die right there from the embarrassment. Of course, you were sitting on the pilot's chair. He only wanted your fat ass to move. And you thought you were having a moment. What an idiot, fantasizing about embracing him or whatever, when he only wanted to resume the trip to get to his son as soon as possible.

Clumsily, you stood up, your face hot with embarrassment. Inevitably, your bodies rubbed in the tiny space. You were a big woman, he was practically on you and the cockpit wasn’t precisely ample.

“Of course.” 

The feeling was all-consuming and you rushed towards the sliding door, abandoning the cockpit in a heartbeat. You couldn’t see how a very confused Mando observed you leaving, asking himself how he had offended you.

Tears of embarrassment stained your cheeks when you managed to curl inside the bunk. Mando had been so kind to let you sleep there, and you had been loving it. The first night you couldn't help yourself and used your fingers to make you cum three times. His masculine fragrance was everywhere. It was like being embraced by him and your imagination was an overactive one. 

But now, having his scent kriffing everywhere wasn’t helping to deflect the feeling of rejection that had taken you. Why were you being like this? Of course, it wasn’t the first time you were turned down. Or the tenth. By now, you should be used to it. But nevertheless, it hurt a lot. 

All your life, you were always the clever, bright friend. The daughter who didn’t cause trouble. The gentle and caring one. But you were never called beautiful. Even by your romantic partners. They may say things about how they loved your “fat ass” or “big tits” but this didn’t make you feel pretty but just objectified, and especially, not truly seen as a sentient being. The worst of your male companions even complained about your size and how they weren’t able to manhandle you as they would have done with a smaller woman. You knew this was rooted in their deepest insecurities and how being perceived as smaller than their partner affected their self-esteem... But what about yours?

The truth was that Mando’s gesture (or lack of it) hadn’t been so hurtful, but the stream of memories it triggered, and now you found yourself sobbing under his sheets. When you felt the familiar blow of entering hyperspace, you only hoped that he remained in the cockpit and let you hide for the rest of the trip. But he didn’t.

First, you heard the familiar footsteps coming down from the ladder. He cleared his throat and then knocked softly at the bunk's door. Your blood froze.

“Hey I'm…I'm sorry.” You could clearly hear these weren't words he said often or lightly. A knot formed in your stomach but the tears stopped.

“It 's okay.” You responded with a raspy voice from the crying.

“No, I shouldn't have doubted your route. You're the professional.”

You couldn't decide between bursting into laughter or crying again. He was clueless, wasn't he? Maybe you could just roll with that and hide your true feelings. It was a good opportunity and it’ll save you from an uncomfortable moment. But you weren't the kind of person to do that.

“Mando, do you really think I'm mad because of that?” A pensive hum was his only response.

The bunk's door opened and a very confused warrior appeared right in front of you. Your eyes were red but your smile was bright. You felt your heart hammering inside your chest. He looked so helpless, all his self-assurance gone because of your tears. You sighed, gathering the courage to speak.

“In the cockpit, there was a moment when you were very close to me...” Mando immediately stiffened.

“I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable because of that. I thought…” His voice was strained through the modulator. You shook your head.

“I'm the one who misunderstood the situation, Mando.” You stared at him but it was clear his metal head wasn't computing. “ You were almost all over me. I thought something was going to happen. Between us.” You had to clarify.

The gears inside the helmet started turning and finally, you could see those broad shoulders relax a bit.

“You expected…you wanted something to happen between us?” He asked using your own words. You bit your lip unsure, but you were already too far gone to stop this.

“Yes Mando, I really like you and what happened in the cockpit made me feel rejected. That's why I was mad.” This time you tried to explain yourself clearly as you didn't want more misunderstandings, even though your skin felt like molten lava. Mando remained silent for a while, shifting his weight and finally took a step towards the bunk, putting a hand against the frame of the door.

“Why would I reject you?” 

“What?” It wasn't possible you had heard that right.

“You've understood me perfectly.” His voice turned darker and commanding. You swallowed at the sudden change of demeanour. 

“I don't know. Many have rejected me before. It made sense.” You felt vulnerable and hugged your knees trying to appear smaller unconsciously. Opening up about your fear of rejection wasn't in your plans today. “Where I come from, being overweight is frowned upon.” You added in a small voice, ashamed of your feelings.

“Di’kute!” He grunted the foreign word, audibly angry. To your surprise, he sat next to you inside the cot and grabbed your hand. “You're a gorgeous woman, mesh’la. They were bantha fodder if they couldn't appreciate you.”

It may have been your already sensitive state, but tears came again to you. His faceless stare burnt you, as well as his body heat inside the tiny space. But he continued with the praise without letting go of your hand.

“Where I come from fat is a good signal. It means health, and strength. Extra padding in battle.” You giggled but he was serious. “It's synonymous with peace and not living off ration bars. It means giving birth to healthy younglings.” He added the last point in a raspier voice and you stopped breathing thinking about the meaning behind those words. 

“Mando…”

“Come here mesh’la.” You didn't recognise the last word but obeyed and the next moment you were in his lap. “Can I touch you?” His voice sounded kinder this time, less commanding. Your heart was going to explode.

“Please.” 

And then his hands were all over you. Tracing the outline of your curves, grabbing the supple flesh of your tights, grazing over your generous bust. The touch was so intoxicating, passionate but slow, as if he wanted desperately to memorize your shape.

“Your body is precious, I'll put a hole between the eyes of whoever made you feel the opposite.” You had never felt aroused by violence, but Mando's voice whispering that in your ear made things to you. It felt so hot inside the bunk by then you felt the necessity to get rid of your clothing. Nevertheless, in spite of Mando's praise, you doubted when you grabbed the hem of your tunic. He sensed your hesitancy. “Are you gonna show me that beautiful armour padding?”

You giggled, amused by how playful he became in bed, and finally removed the piece of clothing. His sharp breath was everything you needed to hear.

“Like what you see Mando?” You teased, discarding the tunic and feeling a bit more confident because of his reaction. While he was a victim of a momentary paralysis, you took your chance to caress his biceps where any armour protected his skin. He was as hard as Beskar there and you thought this warrior could be the first to actually manhandle you. That thought only contributed to the heat growing in your centre dangerously.

“Dank Farrik I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you after this.” His voice sounded pained behind the vocoder while he appreciated your soft body.

“Then don’t.” You coed, and then guided his hands to your breasts that were spilling from your bra dangerously. Mando exhaled loudly as if all the tension he had been holding the last weeks was released. His gloved thumbs found your nipples fast, the stiff material feeling so good against your sensitive peaks. “Don’t be afraid, you can be rougher with them.”

Mando actually moaned at your honeyed words and you couldn’t name a more heavenly sound. He explored your tits with devotion, giving them all the attention in the world until your nipples couldn’t be harder and your breathing more agitated. But then, after some time hovering over his legs, yours started to feel numb from sustaining the position so you had to move a bit to feel your muscles again.

“Sorry, my legs went numb.” You excused yourself, but in a heartbeat, his hands shifted to your plush hips and you got the hint. 

“Sit.”

“I’ll crush you.” Looking away, your previous self-confidence cracked a bit after his petition. You were too heavy, he will be uncomfortable and then…

“I carry bounties three times my weight for a living.” With the cocky affirmation, he interrupted your racing thoughts before spiralling. “I’ll be okay.”

You haven’t seen him in action yet, but the image of the Mandalorian manoeuvring a bounty out of pure strength made you shiver, yielding to his command. But you wouldn’t drown without dragging him with you.

“Stars woman!” He grunted when your clothed cunt made contact with his bulge. Not satisfied enough with that, you rolled your hips a couple of times to torture him further. Your plan backfired, as it provoked both of you to moan in unison.

“You wanted me…to sit.” You sassed between laboured breaths. Mando growled in response, but his hands travelled to your behind until they were grabbing a handful of your round ass.

“Do you know where else I’d want you to sit?” His voice was raspier than ever, the desire on it crystal clear to you. He really wanted you.

“Mando!” This playful side of him was unexpected but you were loving every moment of it. He took advantage of his leverage to move you impossibly closer to him, making you squirm when your sensitive nipples touched the colder beskar of his cuirass. Your hands snaked around his thick neck and you found yourself completely squished against your huge warrior. His erection felt so hot and hard between your legs that your cunt only grew wetter and wetter, making you wonder if he could notice. Then he started to move and soon you were moaning in the crook of his neck, grinding like a loth-cat in heat.

“Please mesh’la, let me make you feel as good as you deserve.” All the cockiness of his tone was done when he asked you with the most laboured breathing. His hands started caressing your spine and back rolls and you were a puddle in his strong arms. 

“Let me…let me get up to remove my pants.” He indeed let you, but his hands didn´t, and while you stood to remove the last of your clothes, he continued exploring your body completely mesmerized. “Mando, I can’t undress if you don’t put your hands away!” You giggled standing on the threshold of the bunk waiting for him to realize. His helmet turned up to look at you then as if he was weighing his possibilities.

“Allow me to undress you, please.” The tone of his plead made you shiver and your cunt walls spasm. Your noded suddenly shy and the next moment he was on his knees unfastening your boots. Maker, what a sight.

When he finished with your footwear, he removed your shocks and started caressing your ankles, going up your calves painfully slowly until he finally reached the waistband of your pants. By then, you were shivering out of pure anticipation. But he still took the time to discard first your pants leaving you in your soaked underwear. He stopped and removed his hands for you to your surprise. Maybe he was having second thoughts? Maybe he didn’t like what he saw?

Your thoughts didn’t spiral for long, as Mando started removing his gloves still kneeling at your feet. Your eyes went wide: it was the first time you saw any of his skin. Gloves finally apart, you could appreciate it was a beautiful hue of gold before his thumbs were hooked in your panties. Without seeing his expression, you could feel the reverence in every touch Of his. It was like you were something holy and he was praying at your shrine. Then it hit you: this wasn’t just a fuck for both of you. This will change things.

“You’re drenched mesh’la.” The last piece of clothing was finally removed and his curious hands didn’t take long to open the folds of your glistening cunt. You looked away a bit embarrassed but he assured you. “You’re so beautiful and soft I can't help myself but...”

Then he did the most surprising thing. With his fingers covered with your slick, he went to the inferior part of his helmet and made disappear. He yas kriffing tasting you.

“Dank Farrik and you taste heavenly too.” Things became fast in a moment. He suddenly stood up in all his imposing height, totally covered in contrast with your nakedness, grabbed your but and in a heartbeat was lifting you from the floor. You squirmed in surprise, your legs rapidly snaking around his tapered waist, feeling all the whole glory of his erection against your pussy. He then turned in his heels and laid you in his bed delicately. But you weren’t playing tame anymore.

“Mando, I need you please.” Your plea was accompanied by a roll of your hips against the bulge on his pants, and you moaned at the sensation of the harsh fabric against the sensitive skin there. Mando grunted at the contact and obeyed you, removing his crossbody ammo belt. You continued the grinding while he battled with the straps of his hip belt, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock, until the leather piece full of pouches hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Finally, his hot hands were all over you again and he leaned over your body. But then, he froze in place. You looked at him quizzically when you heard something metallic rolling on the floor. Maybe something important? Maker, you knew he kept bombs on the belt…

“Wait,” he said, leaving you naked in the bunk where you experienced the worst ten seconds of your life thinking you were going to be blown away before having sex with the Mandalorian. But his absence was brief, and he returned with a spherical object between his golden fingers. Something you didn’t recognize at all.

“Is it a bomb?” You asked clueless. He chucked but there was something off about it. 

“It’s from a lever in the cockpit.” You sighed in relief knowing your life or his weren’t in danger. Noticing how he wouldn’t stop looking at the metal ball, you knew he wasn’t okay. Finding your tuning between the mess of sheets and blankets, you put it on and sat on the edge of the cot. You didn’t feel annoyed because the intimate moment was interrupted: it was clear something was disturbing him.

“Hey, Mando, look at me.” You asked, holding his bare wrists most delicately. He flinched at the contact and you noticed his pulse was derailed. Then he looked at you like he had just noticed you were there and started apologising.

“I’m so sorry I…” It looked like he didn’t even know how to start explaining himself. You’ll say he sounded even embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m not upset. We don’t have to continue if you don’t feel like it.” His shoulders slumped and his gaze fixated again on the ball. And then you noticed, by the light shivering of his torso. He was crying. Your heart broke in a thousand pieces. “Come here, baby.”  You cooed, opening your arms to the Mandalorian, hoping you could offer some relief to whatever he was experiencing. 

To your surprise, he fell to his knees again and then sank his helmet into your lap. His shoulders were convulsing more visibly now and your chest hurt for him. You started caressing the back of his neck, hoping it felt soothing for him, and remained like that for a while.

“I’ve got you baby.”

You didn’t know how much time it passed with Mando sobbing against your tunic and you doing your best to make him feel better, but after a while, it looked like he was calmer.

“I already lost him once.” His voice was coarse from crying, and even though the lack of context you knew immediately he was referring to Grogu.

“We’ll find him and take him home, Mando.” You responded softly, feeling something warm spread inside you and not stopping for a second your caresses.

“Din.” He finally unburied his head from your lap and looked at you. “My name is Din Djarin.”

[techtalksfics]

Panic Attack (Tech x Reader)

Summary: Reader is having a panic attack and Tech is tasked with calming them down. This was a request from @narcissa-of-kaas so this one is all for you!

Author's Note: I know that someone rambling at you isn't everyone's way of dealing with a panic attack but it definitely works for me every time. I also haven't gone into massive emotional depth with it because well, trigger trigger.

Warnings: May be triggering for some, I don't know. If discussions of intense panic trigger you, I would maybe say DNI? One swear word and a lot of angst.

Word Count: 1.5k

You'd watched your mother die.

It happened right in front of you, and it was all your fault. You'd help these clones hide from the Empire and your mother paid the price. It should've been you. Why wasn't it you?

You did the right thing, my brave, darling girl. Those were her final words before the life dissipated from her eyes, her hand on your cheek. You'd cried into her, holding her to you.

Had it been the right thing? You no longer knew. You'd kept them hidden for several days, got to know them and they knew you. You'd fed them, allowed them to wash, allowed them to wander your home and its grounds at will. It had been a very pleasant experience with a truly horrific ending. The worst ending.

Tech had learned that you were an anxious person, but you overcame that to do the right thing. He admired that about you. When he watched you cry into your mother with the Empire swarming closer and closer to you, he knew he had to get you out of there. Tech placed his hands under your knees and around your middle and lifted you away from your mother. Your wails were now suddenly vibrating through his body as he ran for the Marauder. You called out for her and Tech felt his heart shatter. He'd grown fond of you and of her. Your anguish was hurting him too.

As you pulled away from his chest, you found he had taken you aboard their ship and he held onto you until he reached his bunk on the ship. Tech made space on his bed, wires and cables everywhere, and told you to wait there. To relax there. But you couldn’t relax. Not after that.

It was all your fault. Your fault. Your mistake. It should’ve been you.

It should've been me. It was all my fault, your mind regurgitated these phrases over and over until your whole body was racked with anxiety. You felt the panic begin to surge through your body. Your feet were numbing and your legs were following in close suit. You tried to breath but all you could manage were small gulps and tear stained huffs of air. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't move. You couldn't do a damn thing.

The voices inside your head began cascading into one another and the voices were so loud. So loud you feared that others would hear it. Hunter had certainly picked up on your condition but was focused on escaping the Empire first. Your world had just crumbled around you, your feelings were to be expected. It was my fault, you reminded yourself again. What now? You had no home. No family. Nothing. It had all been demolished by one shot, directly to the heart.

You could do nothing but sit upright with your head in your hands. Your clammy palms felt heated against your cool forehead. Or perhaps your forehead wasn't cool but rather your palms were hot. You didn't know. You lifted your head and clasped your hands together.

The ship veered and shook as Tech and Hunter worked on your escape. When they finally managed the jump to hyperspace, you continued to feel the full force of your mistakes. It only felt stronger the further you got from your mother's body.

Your heart raced. Your palms were drenched even further in sweat as you repeatedly rubbed your hands together. You couldn't stop the motion. Just rubbing until friction was felt and repeating the motion until it hurt a little to do so.

You pawed at your brain. The palm of hand beating into your temple as you did so. Thud. Thud. Thud. You very often bruised your face in this manner. You couldn’t help it. It was as if you needed the physical pain to match the inner pain you were experiencing.

And then you heard it. It was as if you heard the voice at the end of a rather long and exceedingly dark tunnel. Even if they bellowed you feared you’d never hear it clearly. Never hear it over the ringing of the electricity which set your brain alight. The voice called out once more, but the distance was too great.

The voices in your head were hiding whatever voice was calling out to you. Tech had unexpectedly left the cockpit as soon as they'd made the jump to hyperspace. Hunter knew why so didn't question it. He knew how much you mattered to Tech.

“Omega,” you heard the muffled sound of Tech’s voice in the distance. “What did you say her mother did to calm her down?” At the mention of your mother’s name, you heart both soared and broke as you remembered her being shot. You began to rock back and forth, unable to breathe. You felt like you were choking on your grief. "Omega, quickly. Think. She is hardly breathing in here."

There was a muffled response from Omega and suddenly Tech had kneeled in front of you. You were shaking heavily, and you choked on your breath. Suddenly, you felt him grab your hands. Just like your mother used to.

That was the first step. Grounding.

You looked up at Tech through your lashes and he squeezed your hands together gently in his. The voices began to slow; they were a little less loud. Still there, still repeating that it was your fault but you tried to focus on Tech.

“You need to breathe slowly,” Tech said as he grabbed your hands. “I do not know the stories your mother said to calm you. But I believe that it is actually the sound of someone speaking is the thing that calms you down. We can try to regulate your breathing together. I am excellent at talking and storytelling so perhaps I could try?” Tech queried as he gently squeezed at your hands for a second time. He felt the tremor that was coursing through your body, and he suddenly almost felt it as his own. He frowned. But when you nodded furiously, he realised he needed to carry on talking. “I cannot tell her stories and I know she is gone. I know that you are scared, and I fear I will never truly understand why as it is not in my nature. But perhaps I can tell you one of my stories. Perhaps that would help?” All you could muster was a gentle nod as you clung to his hands trying to centre yourself. You tried to focus on the feeling of his hands in yours. On the solid bed beneath you. But you couldn’t stop your lungs and heart from hyperventilating. Tech decided to start with the tale of Safo Toma. It was an odd, exciting tale and he figured that was an excellent place to start.

As he spoke softly to you, telling you of his time as a racer in an attempt to save their ex-work partner Cid. Of the colourful and chaotic tale of understanding schematics and the adjustments he made to the pod in order to win the race. He sighed and continued on, "Omega and Wrecker thought I was being idiotic, getting rid of the weapons systems. They were simply slowing me down and I needed speed and manoeuvrability in order to succeed in the blocked off tunnel. They say it was a death trap. If that is so then I defied death that day. Though I suppose we defy death every day," and then Tech realised what he had said. Your eyes began watering again, but your breathing had slowed, so he must be on the right track. "I'm sorry, that was a thoughtless comment."

"No, no, it's fine. Your st-story is working," you mumbled, stuttering only occasionally, "so, did you win?" You wanted the end of that story.

"Of course I did," he said confidently, "there was never any doubt." You laughed at that and he was grateful for that. The soft, accented lilt of his voice was extremely calming.

You’d previously thought your mother was the only one who could calm you. But now. Now there was another. Tech. A surprising turn of events. When you finally raised your topaz eyes to look at his, you saw nothing but sympathy and concern. His brow was heavily knitted as he looked at you. Without thought, you reached forward to kiss him but the second your lips connected with his, he lurched backwards.

“I…I’m so sorry,” you spluttered out quickly, blushing profusely, “I shouldn’t have done that. I was stupid to think you want that.” You began rubbing your palms together furiously again as he’d released your hands in all the motion.

Suddenly, his strong nimble fingers held on your wrists, pausing your ministrations. “Meshla,” he whispered, “I very much would like to kiss you. I would even say I want to do more than just that. But I will not let something as important as that to blossom out of panic. I don't want it borne from sadness. When you kiss me, I want you to be sure. I want you to be calm. When you kiss me, I want it to be a positive memory.” He removed one hand from your wrists to adjust his goggles.

And with that, your hands were finally still and your breathing was steady.

[t00nyah]

t00nyah explaining project moon without actually explaining project moon

after posting lcb trigger warning i wanted to do this

or

me explaining project moon in the shortest way possible except its goofy af bc im eepy and lazy but im in a desperately talkative mood (i post mostly about limbus company since it came out cmon)

what the fuck is projmoon:

project moon is the coolest ever indie game development team we love them; they've made three games so far, also have an unfinished novel, a...idk, just another novel that was initially a comic but im a hater (im sorry(not)), and another comic

they've been doing it for like 7 years almost and still have no idea what optimization is but its okay we love them

there's a lot of killing and just amoral guys in general who can and will kill thousands. its THE 'your meow meow killed thousands of people' 'and they looked good doing it!' universe. everyone is fucked up there guys. but UMMM thats kinda the appeal

so the games! we all here are gamerzzz!

LC

it all started 6 years ago, when lobotomy corporation released in early access and my gf was like hey look what i found

lobotomy corp is a game where you're a manager in a big company, L corp, and you have to get your guys, employees(lucky ones who got the job) to work with abnormalities(fucked up creatures) so they would generate enkephalin, a big energy resource

except your guys will probably die when you're already so attached to them so you just restart the day each time this happens

theres like a maaassive plot, it is the beginning of literally everything, like some stuff still haunts us in limbus company (looking at a particular individual) and there are more characters that you'll fucking love(sephirahs) and then learn their fucked up story (and then learn your fucked up story and not be happy about it)

ah yes while im on it theres no actual self incert in project moon games im sorry but every character IS a character

gameplay-wise you just have to organize your guys, give them equipment, assign them to a job, make them suffer and struggle to suppress abnormalities if they try to make a mess(kill everyone) and do hard tasks your besties make you do

LoR

later, in like 2018 i think, they almost immediately after full release of LC announced a sequel, library of ruina

library of ruina is a game that continues the story(duh) and i can't tell you much about it without spoiling lob corp too, but in this one you have to USE BRAIN like A LOT because its a STRATEGY CARD GAME

in this one you dont even have a character you play as, you just follow the characters' on their journey. but dw! you'll get your own customizable guys to adore here too!

basically in this game the characters from LC and your guys are called librarians and you have to greet guests of the library, that were specifically invited there and /tp-ed, basically fighting them. every battle has its own story and eventually it branches off into four arcs and oh gott i love library of ruina a'right you meet characters for like one story and then have to fight them knowing their issues and how life fucked them over enough to get there</3

gameplay-wise you build cool decks from cards of those you've killed for your guys, pick guys for fight and then pick cards. simple. i think. not so simple in game but i simplified it

there's also a lot of amazing lore drops, bc in LC we were kinda isolated and focused on the corporation, but in LoR? we get to see all kinda of people of The City, we learn about The City, we learn about factions and all, we get all the lore we missed by being stuck in that manager chair

LCB

okay and now we're here. limbus my fucking company.

limbus company was, again, announced almost immediately after LoR's full release(PM are CRAZY), and released february 27 of this year, and already has more story in word count than lor does or so i've heard...

limbus company is pm's first mobile game(but dw there is a steam release if you're more of a pc person or your phone will explode if you try to install it(and it will)) and their first...(behold) gacha game. yep. but no dont get scared it actually has the best gacha system ever known to men

they've also tried to make it enjoyable without getting into previous games but to me it doesnt feel right i dunno i feel like it's just not that cool without knowing the context and going insane screaming at carmen or connecting the dots, also like the events of LCB are all connected to LC and LoR, so ummm if you try to get into limbus without at least learning what the other games contain be ready i'll personally explode you

in this game you basically play as dante(they/them for the sake of mysteriousness of 'who TF they are') and you have 12 deranged guys named the sinners who are ALL BASED OFF FUCKING CLASSIC LITERATURE did you fucking know pm are fucking literacy nerds and cant have a game without book references without exploding??? well they are.

so the characters (IN CASE YOU'RE INTERESTED) are:

1. gregor (metamorphosis, franz kafka)

2. rodion (crime and punishment, fyodor dostoyevsky)

3. (emil) sinclair (demian, hermann hesse)

4. yi sang (the wings, yi sang (kim hae-gyeong))

5. ishmael (moby dick, herman melville)

6. heathcliff (wuthering heights, emily bronte)

7. don quixote (don quixote, miguel de cervantes)

8. hong lu (dream of the red chamber, cao xueqin)

9. ryoshu (hell screen, ryunosuke akutagawa)

10. meursault (the stranger, albert camus)

11. outis (the odyssey, homer)

12. faust (faust, johann wolfgang von goethe)

also don't forget dante is based on the divine comedy by dante alighieri!

also dante DOESNT FUCKING KNOW SHIT. faust seems to know all shit and never tell dante.

i mentioned it being a gacha game. so like. you dont pull characters. instead you pull the initial deranged guys' alternative versions where they end up on another job like cult leader or a terrorist idk

the best part? you dont necessarily have to get them from gacha in most cases, you can get special currency, ego shards, to get whatever you want separately. also pm added ideality that you get from unfortunate pulls that you can spend on the special identity from the banner. but tbh i think its way easier to get the shards needed than pull that much, not really worth it

gameplay-wise? well. you have to basically just choose your guys' identities(those alt versions, they use them in fights to be stronger), choose their skills, a little similar to ruina (except TBH lcb lets you fuck around and put it on auto until it doesnt really work out (please dont autoplay with r corp ishmael or at least check what they're doing you silly goop they might do friendly fire if you're stupid enough)). the game consists of cantos, chapters that tell you a separate story of a sinner(in the order i gave earlier, not everyone knows that), that have story-episodes(cool ones), story-and-fight-then-episodes(epic ones), and sometimes just-fight-episodes(who the fuck thought those are a good idea?). and in the end of a canto there's always a dungeon. honestly, first two cantos are easy enough to just learn basics yourself, im rambling at this point

there's also hellish grind options and paid stuff like battle pass with the coolest perks ever

also LoR and LCB have mili songs, which is fucking cool, they're such bangers. no no projmoon games' ost in general. just fuckign bangers my guys and i mean it.

well that was fun and games. like i mentioned theres also:

Distortion Detective

im such a fucking fan of this unfinished novel, im so upset they abandoned it </3 pm did say they're probably going to rework it as a game or smth later but in my opinion it just loses its charm if its not a novel

distortion detective ... i cant explain it without spoilers to the games but its basically about moses, the distortion detective, who solves distortions which are like uhhmmm... people turning into some funky shit(that expresses their feelings). and she has a parthner named ezra. they're both poor traumatized women. and stuff happens. thats all i can say without spoiling everything. you learn a lot about the distortion phenomenon from moses' perspective.

WonderLab

wonderlab is a comic made by artist mimi, that follows taii, rose and catt. its about another lobotomy corp branch that actually introduces us to the concept of abnormality aberrations (slightly similar but different abnormalities like we have a little red riding hooded mercenary's(do you remember me mentioning pm being literacy nerds?) team fortress blue team version or whatever) that is used in limbus quite a lot so we old people from LC can be like 'heehehehe this is like like snow white's apple's aberration, so funny, reminds me of good ol' days...'

Leviathan

my main enemy. initially it was a comic, but i think they had to stop working with the artist for some reason and continue it as a novel instead.

issue?

i didnt read it. im so sorry i failed you. but i cant. first vergilius, main character, is ugly AS FUCK and he's STUPID i hate his guts. BUT OH DEAR LORD HE APPEARS IN LIMBUS COMPANY AND I HATE HIM EVEN MORE. AND NOT JUST APPEARS, HE'S THE GUIDE OF THE BUS, HE'S KINDA ALWAYS THERE. I HATE HIS GUTS. oh hey lap-- charon, no, you're good, you're amazing, vroom-vroom, yes, right, you're so right.

i'm pretty sure it has A LOT of important context for some stuff in LCB but i just CAN'T MAKE MYSELF TOUCH IT. please read leviathan for me.

i'm sorry it turned into a looong ramble but here's t00nyah's awful brief guide to project moon. in case you want to know about world-building or the story in particular...i'm always here to dm me. please do. i really love telling people about project moon. there's just a lot to unpack.

edit. okay apparently it was easy to misinterpret my leviathan commentary so im putting this here for the sake of clearing the confusions for future!! tl;dr: i know it wasn't continued as a comic for REASONS, it's OBVIOUS!! and yes, leviathan is important, i just can't make myself read it therefore don't have enough knowledge to write about it(cool idea: write your own post about leviathan if you're seeing this and are enthusiastic about it! i just won't.), i still don't like vergilius, it's just a me-thing. DO read leviathan if you're interested</3

edit2. after thinking for a while, decided to add this just in case: i was given a summary of leviathan! well. it IS something. (opinion on vergilius hasn't changed much sorry not sorry, still a me-thing.) but yeah 👍 all good 👍 still not liking it much, mayhaps because i couldn't read it myself, but. it can be found here in the comment section.

[courtforshort15]

Chapter 4

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem reader

Word Count: 5,600

Summary:  It's a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up above you. The Battle of New York rages around you, and the only thing that gets you through is the stranger standing next to you. Matthew Murdock is more than he seems, keeping you safe in a city that is literally crumbling around you, and even once the dust settles, his hand is the only thing you don't want to let go of.

Trigger warning: This one has a fairly graphic description of something towards the end regarding death. 

Masterlist

Chapter Index

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

The small bookstore looks nothing short of a location where a bomb had been detonated.

It hardly resembles the haven you had run into a little less than an hour ago, dust-covered and shaking, head and body increasingly vulnerable with every second that passed by. When you’d entered the building, numerous bookshelves had been standing throughout the floor space, symmetrically and strategically placed for maximum efficiency and exposure, each one bold and welcoming in the face of new and experienced readers. Rows and rows of colorful books had been placed lovingly on the shelves, every single one of them looking ready and eager for someone to pull it out and bring it home. Displays and racks of reading materials ranging from cook books to self-help guides to religious texts, and it was as if each item was a swift and earnest reminder of New York City’s diverse population and their reading needs and enjoyments.

The small shop had likely belonged to a small business owner, their blood, sweat, and tears shed in its foundation, a testament to their love for the written word and the journeys it could take a person on. 

And it was just…gone.

“Jesus.”

His response is soft. “I know.”

“If you hadn’t pulled us into the bathroom, then we—”

“Let’s not go there, okay?”

Your heart aches as you take in the scene, and your eyes lock onto the lone bookshelf that had somehow endured the chaos. It’s as if it exists solely to offer some sort of twisted and miserable reminder of the way the shop had stood so proudly only minutes before. Books are strewn across the floor, and though some are relatively unharmed, there are others that are burnt with only the spine and a few pages remaining, nothing left but words that have turned into ashes. 

Glass crunches under your shoes as you leave the bathroom and walk slowly into what remains, a soft breeze drifting in from the large hole in the store that had once been wide, clear windows. Heat drifts in, too, the feel of it sweltering, and where it had once been the simple heat of a beautiful spring day, it’s now sticky and bitter and utterly unwelcome. 

Matt walks cautiously ahead of you, hand slowly dropping yours as he makes his way to the front of the store, dark head tilting here and there as if focusing intently on something before deciding to move on. He expertly navigates his way around fallen bookshelves, sidestepping piles of books that have fallen and huddled together, and you follow behind slowly, your feet instinctively taking you through the same path he’s seemingly mapped out for you.

When he reaches the space where the windows had once rested, he stops and situates his body so that he’s angled halfway between you and the street, head once again cocked to the side. He lifts a finger to his lips as if encouraging you to be as quiet as possible, but it’s a hard task to accomplish with the way your heels continue to press into the glass, and each step clinks far too loudly. Your shoe catches on something, and you can’t help the swear word that loudly leaves your mouth as you regain your balance.

Somehow you manage to make your way to his side, cringing as you take in the full view of the street. You don’t have words for the destruction, to be honest. A slowly burning car lies on its side up the block from you, the freshly planted trees and flowers across the street are crumbled and smashed into the sidewalk, buildings are torn apart, gaping holes yawning wide with heaps of glass and brick spilling onto the street. The sight is something you’ve never seen before, and each second you spend staring at it, the further it stains and bleeds into your memory.

You guess you’ve joined the millions of people who have witnessed a New York tragedy. It’s a club you hadn’t ever thought you’d have to join, the kind of club that offers memberships with PTSD as the recurring charge, and it rocks you to your core. 

“This isn’t…this isn’t something we’ll ever heal from.”

Though he only says it in a barely-there whisper, the tone that manages to seep in is solemn and grave. “No. No, it’s not.”

Utterly sick to your stomach, you turn your head to face Matt, needing to see something besides the trauma seeping out onto the road. The cut above his hairline is still bleeding, leaving a small line of red trailing down the side of his forehead, and in this lighting it seems to be more severe than you had maybe thought it was. With a wince, your hand twitches at your side as if you want to wipe it off, but you force yourself to remain still. He had seemed surprised when you’d tried to help earlier, and you don’t want to throw him out of whatever he’s focusing on.

Your eyes shift back to the street reluctantly, and you note that, for some reason, you’ve been instinctively waiting on his go-ahead to begin the arduous journey to the subway station. Opening your mouth, you start to ask him what he’s waiting for, but he interrupts you.

“I think we’re good to go,” he says as his head snaps back towards yours. His mouth is twisted in a grimace, and you can see the glimmer of fear that flashes over a face that’s just as weary and exhausted as yours. “I don’t hear anything nearby.”

You nod immediately, sucking in a deep breath. “Okay. Which way?”

His head swings to the side. “The subway station is a few blocks north and two blocks west, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Matt blows out a loud breath, and you watch as he steels his spine in front of you. “Then we need to go right.”

You don’t question how he knows, instead choosing to gather your strength and wits for a journey that would normally be considered a short walk. But four blocks feels like a marathon away, feels like you’re making the walk between the Shire and Mordor, the trek likely to contain danger and trauma and fire lying in wait at every twist and turn.

The whisper of your name pulls you back to the bookstore, and the tone conveys a softness that is at an extreme clash with everything going on around you. Your head turns so that you’re facing him head on, his body seemingly undaunted and thrumming with an energy you haven’t yet seen on him. It’s almost like he’s taken all the chaos around him and suddenly focused it into something even stronger, something more determined than the things flying around the city like they own it. 

“You ready?” he asks, his voice shockingly calm for someone who is about to leave behind the only semblance of shelter he’s had since this all began. 

It’s your last chance to back out, but you wave it swiftly aside. “Yes.”

His nod is almost curt in its movement, the jerk of his head brusque and determined. Without a single second wasted, he steps over the small wall of brick that had once held up the glass, only a foot or so in height, dress shoes making their way from the carpet of the bookstore to the concrete of the sidewalk easily. He turns back to you before he’s even finished stepping outside, wordlessly offering his hands to you to help you clear the brick as well, fingers grasping yours tightly to help you maintain balance.

Matt lets go of your left hand once you’re settled next to him and swiftly takes a right, pulling you along behind him for a few seconds as if to make sure you’re still by his side, before releasing contact altogether.

You can’t run, not without risking a major fall or sprained ankle, but you trail after him as fast as you can, walking briskly and jogging at random moments to keep up with him. He notices pretty quickly that you’re unable to keep the pace he has set and immediately slows, keeping himself just a few steps ahead of you. He’s somehow able to dip and avoid large pieces of fallen debris that litter the sidewalk, and you once again follow the path he’s all but laid out for you.

His coordination and agility is far beyond what you had anticipated, even far beyond what you would expect from someone who has perfect vision, and you’re left feeling both confused and grateful for his navigation through the wreckage.

There’s a haze that’s settled over the city, one filled with ash and dust that’s been both kicked up from the normally filthy streets and created through the destruction of concrete. You do your best to breathe through it, do your best to see through it, grateful that the lenses of your glasses offer some sort of protection from something getting into your eyes. 

You try your hardest to focus on the mission, focus on the goal of finding shelter, but you can’t help the sheer horror and sadness that hits you whenever you look up long enough to see the level of devastation present. Your heels feel more unstable than ever as you walk, and each step you take is clouded in fear and anxiety, even as you move as swiftly as possible with every ounce of determination you can drag up.

“You with me?”

“Yes,” you quickly reply, fleetingly puzzled, because surely he can hear your heels scraping along the concrete and the way you’d stuttered out the word fuck when a distant crash startled you. It only takes a split second to realize he hadn’t been asking if you were behind him, but rather checking in on you to see how you were doing.

What strikes you, perhaps the most, is how deserted the streets are. Or, at least how deserted these specific blocks are, though, to be fair, you aren't super close to the hole in the sky. It could be a completely different story closer to Stark Tower, which sits a few blocks south and a few blocks east, and you're exceedingly grateful that your little slice of Hell's Kitchen is just far enough away from the main action. But still, even once you turn the corner, there’s no one. You’re not quite sure how it's possible. The island of Manhattan is home to over one million people alone, and the number of people around the city doubles during the work day. It’s a place where people flood into and recede from daily, like some sort of tide that washes up and retreats.

You leave your answer at the yes you had responded with, figuring it’s easier to leave it there rather than explain the way your heart continues to drop with every step you take. You don’t expect to get to the subway station unscathed, there’s too much going on around you, and far too much out there that can cause you harm. 

It’s the city that never sleeps, but even with the crashing and the explosions and the police sirens, it’s never felt more quiet. 

Where the fuck is everyone?

You guess, you hope, that people have found shelter. The opening of whatever portal had appeared over Stark Tower had caused widespread panic, people fleeing for their lives, crashing into and around each other in an effort to get away and get inside. But it doesn’t explain why New York suddenly feels like a ghost town. 

He may not be able to see the streets, but you’re completely positive he can feel the emptiness of them.

You suppose the invasion, if that’s what this should be called (how could one word ever begin to accurately describe the chaos?), had first happened approximately forty five minutes ago, give or take, plenty of time for people to find somewhere to go to wait out the shit storm that’s reigning down. For a quick moment, it makes you suddenly second guess your decision to head towards the subway station when everyone else is staying indoors, and you briefly wonder if Matt is feeling the same way. 

But you don’t know how long this is going to last, and while the bookstore had been a temporary solution, it certainly had not been a sustainable one, and right now the focus needs to be on finding something that could outlast the onslaught for as long as possible. 

The first crosswalk lies not too far ahead, and some part of you slows as you would at any other normal instance, but he keeps moving swiftly, clearly aware that there’s no need to pause for traffic. Cars and vans and trucks have been abandoned and left for fate to decide what will happen to them, many of them already damaged beyond any hope for repair. Most have their driver side doors open, as if the drivers barely had time to exit their vehicles, much less worry about closing the doors. Some vehicles have crashed into others, and you’ll never know if it was purposefully as someone tried to escape, or if cars were thrown into each other from the force of various explosions and blasts.

But all vehicles, or at least the ones you can see, are empty of people. You’re grateful for that, at least, knowing it means that the people on this particular block were able to find relative safety.

It’s a pretty straight shot from one street corner to the one across the intersection, and Matt makes his way across briskly, you hot on his heels, doing your best to keep the pace despite the way your feet are throbbing with each and every step. He’s extremely patient even in the urgency of the moment, somehow knowing every time your foot catches on something, quickly turning around and placing a hand on your arm for balance. 

It happens more often than you care to admit, knowing that each tiny tumble, however miniscule, is delaying the progress to the subway station. 

You’re not too far past the intersection, crossing in front of an alleyway, when he turns abruptly on his heel and pushes you into the gap between the two buildings.

“What–”

But he’s shoving the two of you down behind a giant green dumpster before you can finish your question, and his body twists slightly over yours. You cling to his suit jacket for balance with one hand, and place your wrapped up hand on the brick of the wall for additional support, your quads burning slightly as you hunch over. His form may be covering you slightly, but your face is still turned towards the entrance of the alley, and your eyes are wide as they stare over his shoulder, waiting to see whatever had spooked him. Nothing happens, not for a few seconds at least, and it rattles your nerves, your body already anticipating another round of terror.

Matt abruptly shifts, moving as if to cover you more completely, and it momentarily pulls your attention from the mouth of the alley. But you don’t think his movement succeeds in his goal, largely because your head is still completely exposed, and it certainly doesn’t stop your eyes from suddenly tracking the things that fly past the gap of the buildings, some sixty or so feet above the ground. 

They come out of nowhere, sliding into your vision as quickly as they leave, too far away and too fast for you to get a clear glimpse, but you’re one hundred percent certain that it’s one of the things that had been standing outside of the bookstore when the glass had shattered, stalking down the street looking for people to kill in cold blood, no remorse or empathy for the humans who call Earth home.

“They’re too fast,” he mutters, the sound harsh even in its low volume. “I can’t–I hear them coming, but they get too close way too soon. Not a lot of time to hide.”

“Fucking hell,” you hiss under your breath, twisting your head so that you can see better over Matt’s shoulder. “They’re everywhere.”

Your eyes shift to the face that’s mere inches from yours. “You can hear–? How far away can you hear them from?”

He hesitates for just a brief moment. “Far,” he says before taking a large, shuddering breath. It almost sounds painful, as if his lungs are protesting the sudden intake of oxygen. “But like I said, they’re too fast. I hear them and suddenly they’re right on top of us.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“I…yeah. That about sums it up.”

Matt stands up slowly, bracing his hand against the wall as he reaches up to his full height. You follow the motion, not bothering to cover the quiet groan that escapes you. Your body has been turned and twisted into far too many uncomfortable positions today, and you find yourself internally grumbling about the lack of effort you’ve put into exercise lately. Every muscle in your body hates you right now, and you don’t want to think about how sore you’ll be once the adrenaline has left your system.

“Are they gone?”

Head facing away from you, Matt takes a small step forward, his focus on something you can’t see or hear. You stay where you are, ready to duck back down the dumpster if needed. The ground is filthy, the pieces of trash that hadn’t made it into the dumpster littering the concrete, and you can’t help but allow yourself a moment of disgust. 

“It’s hard to tell” he finally says with a sigh as turns back to face you. His face is hard in its frustration. “They’re–they’re everywhere. Moving too fast to track sometimes, especially with so many of them. I can’t quite…I can’t be completely positive of where they’re at or where they’re going.”

Swallowing, you nod your head as if you understand, but you really don’t. “And you’re–you’re relying on your hearing to tell you where they are? From blocks away?”

“Yes,” he responds simply as he rolls his shoulders. The look he sends your way is as dry as it is nonchalant. “It’s not like I can use my eyes, so…”

You flush. “Right. Stupid question.”

Matt waves it off without much thought and places his hands on his hips. A loud bang sounds off from somewhere in the distance, far too close for your taste, and he flinches at the sound before straightening his shoulders. 

“So,” you say, resting back against the brick wall. Your voice is shaking, just a tiny bit, but the two of you don’t acknowledge it. “I don’t think the coast is ever going to be completely clear.”

He grimaces. “Agreed.”

“And we’re definitely worse off right here than we were at the bookstore. But we’re still a few blocks away. Do you think….? Should we just find somewhere else to go inside?”

“Then we keep heading north,” you confirm with a quick and decisive nod of your head. A bead of sweat trickles down the side of your face and you hastily wipe it away. “But we need to keep sticking to the side of the buildings. The alleys can help hide us if something comes our way.”

Shaking his head, Matt immediately rejects the idea. “There’s too much glass. And everything–everything seems so vulnerable here. They’re crumbling buildings so easily. We're so lucky that the one we were in didn't collapse completely when that thing landed on it. I still...I really think it’s safest to be underground.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably the best we can do right now.”

“Right. Ok. Let’s go.” You pass by Matt and make your way to the front of the alley entrance fully intending on taking a step back out onto the sidewalk, ready for this to be over and dreading every inch you’ll be walking. He walks up quietly behind you and appears at your shoulder, but somehow he must sense your reluctance because he doesn’t exit the alley.

The frown on his lips isn’t as severe as you’ve seen it so far, but it's definitely pronounced. “You’re hesitating.”

You deny the comment with a shake of your head, even though he’s partly correct. “No, I’m ready. It’s just…it’s a ghost town out here,” you remark almost helplessly, motioning towards the empty streets that he can’t see but can surely hear. “I haven’t seen a single person since we entered the book store. Where is everyone? Where did they go?”

Head cocking slightly, Matt’s quiet for a moment before answering a question that had been kind of rhetorical. “There’s people in the surrounding buildings.”

“What?”

“Yes, everyone has run inside at this point, I think.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but he stops himself. Running an aggravated hand through his hair, he sighs and appears to give into what he was about to say. “But I…I think the glass makes them too vulnerable. People are standing too close to the windows, makes them too much of a target.”

“It’s a long story,” he tells you, and you watch as he sort of folds in on himself as if he’s let go of some sort of large secret he’s still not sure he should have revealed. But it only lasts a moment before he’s standing up tall again, head tilted up and mouth set in determination. “And I…I promise to tell you when we get through this. Alright?”

“How do you even know that?”

When. 

There were so many things to live for, so many things to keep fighting for as hell continues to break loose around you, but you’d be lying if you said that the thought of this man sharing something with you hadn’t just become one of them. You have a feeling it’s not something he’s shared with many, and you have the weird inkling that maybe he needs to tell you just as much as you need to hear it, if only to hold on to the thought that there could possibly be life after whatever the hell is going on in the city.

Not if. 

You stare straight at him, taking in the way he’s somehow managed to expose a vulnerability while also demonstrating his strength and determination. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

The smile he sends you is hesitant, clouded by the heaviness of the situation, but it’s there, and it’s beautiful.

“Deal.”

Things continue to boom and shake, sirens continue to blare, but you follow Matt out of the alley way without question, once again allowing him to navigate and lead you through the piles of debris. He stays a few steps ahead of you, black suit jacket covered in dust and tiny tears that must have been a result of the windows that had shattered. His hands are clenched fists at his side, and the haze that has fallen over the city does its best to pull him in, but you refuse to lose and be lost by him.

The sun is still bright up ahead, even through the smoke and the fear, and the sight of it leads you forward, wanting nothing more than to have the opportunity to live and feel it heat your skin on a day that’s not shrouded by terror.

This block is just as eerie, just as desolate, as the one you’ve already walked down, nothing but random empty cars and scorched pavement, likely from the blast of whatever sort of weaponry these things are firing around with little care as to who or what would be in its path. It reminds you of a post-apocalyptic movie, the kind where there’s nothing left to save except the gas from a gas station or non-perishables from a corner store. 

You do your best to stare straight ahead at Matt’s back rather than the disaster that’s been painted around you, but you can’t help but glance up and down, left and right, mind still struggling to link the peaceful Wednesday afternoon to where you are now. You’re in a constraint state of disbelief, some part of you still on that street corner with your iced coffee in your hand, lip curled as you send Brenda’s call to voicemail, nothing on your mind but your painful shoes, unfinished spreadsheets, and the warmth of a sunny spring day.

The loud screech and following crash from a few blocks over pulls you back into your body with a jolt, and it leaves you feeling bitter and broken. Your skin feels itchy with the dust, your feet throb with every step you take, but you’re here, and you’re alive, and you—

Out of the blue, Matt falters. 

He’s not facing you directly, but you can see that his face has lost its color. 

You almost crash straight into him, the speed of your body nearly too fast to avoid running into his back, but you’re able to swerve at the last moment, coming to a stop just slightly ahead of him. He hadn’t tripped on something on the sidewalk, but he had stumbled, his body briefly losing his coordination as his focus shifted elsewhere.  

“Matt?” you immediately question, alarmed at how pale he’s gone. His name leaving your lips is half a started yelp and half a demand for an explanation.

He whips his head toward yours, seemingly startled at your presence, and you take a quick step forward to rest one of your hands on his shoulders. Shuddering, he leans slightly into the contact, face still far too pale for your liking, and you don’t hesitate to take another step into his space.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, lips open and dragging in a panicked breath. “At the next intersection,” he begins, throat bobbing dramatically, and it sounds like he’s forcing the words out. You wince in pain for him, because whatever he’s trying to say doesn’t sound like it’s coming easily. “Not the one we’re about to cross, but the next one…don’t…don’t look left.”

Confusion floods through you, and your eyes can’t help but narrow. “What? Why not?”

Matt’s mouth opens and closes twice before he speaks again, body once again shuddering even as he tries to reel himself back together in front of you. “You shouldn’t–it’s not…” He swallows, and the motion almost looks painful. The sun hits his glasses just right, and from this angle and distance, you can see the eyes that shift and dance over your face and beyond your shoulder rapidly. “Just try not to look left, if you can help it. Okay?”

You frown, unable to stop the expression. “I’ll try.”

And you’re not lying when you tell him you’d try not to look left at the intersection, but in all honestly, you wish you’d tried harder.

The bus is turned over on its side just a quarter of the way down the block when you take your first few steps into the intersection, and its hulking mass out of the corner of your eye catches your attention unconsciously. Before you’ve even thought it through, before Matt’s suggestion has a chance to repeat itself in your head, your head is turning to look at it.

You shouldn't have. 

You really shouldn’t have.

It's definitely not the only vehicle in the street, definitely not the only one that's been completely destroyed by the disaster, but it stands out, for obvious reasons. The whole thing is covered in flame, dark smoke weaving its ways out of the pores left often by the shattered glass of the windows, twisting higher and higher into the sky. A giant hole is torn into it, leaving parts of the metal hanging by mere scraps, the tires sagging even without the weight of the bus riding on them. 

But the worst part is the sight of the bodies burning inside. Broken, shredded, diminishing.

There’s a scream tearing itself out of your throat, the force of it as scalding as the fire that’s burning not half a block from you, and it’s a sound that belongs in horror movies.

Matt is immediately moving in front of where you’re turned, effectively blocking your view. But it’s too late, the damage is done, and the scene is something that will be in the back of your head for the rest of your life.  “I told you not to look left,” he says in your ear, his voice every bit as broken as yours, layered with the same levels of fear and grief as yours. “You shouldn’t have—”

But you’re pushing past him before he finishes speaking, your mind suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that someone could be in there, someone could be alive, someone could need help, and–

It’s primal, this feeling of urgency to get there, this feeling of urgency to pry apart metal if you need to, scalding your hands until they bled if it meant that you could help someone. But it’s also irrational, because even in the back of your head, you’re completely aware that there’s no one who could have possibly survived whatever ball of fire had been thrown at the bus.

The bus had been full of people on their way to work, teenagers skipping school, men and women on their lunch breaks. It had never stood a chance, not when something had locked on to its location and found it to be a suitable destination for its rage and need to destroy. Something that had once been so full of life was now nothing more than a pile of metal, heat, and burning flesh. 

Before you can get more than five steps away, Matt’s pulling you back into him, body once again coming between you and the scene. You try to step around him again, but he blocks you, his own frame shaky and full of horror as he wraps his hands around your upper arms to keep you from moving forward.

It fills you with a sense of panic, his attempt to keep you from helping those poor innocent people, so you struggle in his hold, ripping your body left and right to help loosen his hands. But he’s far stronger than you, and so even while he keeps his hands loose enough as to not cause any pain, his grip is still firm and you’re unable to move more than a few inches in either direction. “Let me go, Matt.” 

“There’s nothing we can do,” he tells you quickly, and the words seem hazy in your mind, as if your head can’t process and believe he’s telling you to walk away. “We need to leave.”

“What? No!  No, there might be people in there, we can’t leave.”

Matt shakes his head rapidly, and the slow, single tear that trails down his face alarms you as it cuts a severe line through the thin layer of dust that has collected on sweat-soaked skin. “There’s not anyone to…there’s no one we can help.”

“How do you know?” you wail, voice high-pitched and panicked, still trying to pull away. “We have to—”

“Hey,” he says, stepping closer into your space, hand dropping one of your arms and instead coming up to rest on your cheek. The other hand soon follows, completely cupping your face between hands that are every bit as nicked and cut as yours. “Hey, look at me.” Your eyes move from the plume of smoke that continues to rise over his shoulder back to his face. “There’s no one to help. I promise.”

“But–”

“I promise,” he repeats slowly, gently, and the words are so full of sadness that you almost need to take a step back. “There’s no one in there that we can save, sweetheart.”

The name doesn’t even register, but the rest of the words do, the clear image of death settling over you, even as gently as they’re said. You bury your head in your hands, the frames of your glasses digging into the skin of your right palm and the tie wrapped around your left, the shock too vicious and blinding even for tears. 

Choking back a dry sob, you squeeze your eyes tightly shut, flinching when the sound of something exploding blocks away reverberates through the city. The sound is startling enough to make you jerk your head out of your hands, and the danger you’re in by simply standing in the middle of the street, nothing hiding you from view and covering your head, sets back in. You take it as some sort of terrifying sign to finally move, nodding your head in a jerky motion and doing your best to compose yourself.

Even so, you can’t help the hiccup that escapes your mouth. “You’re…you’re sure? That there’s no one–”

His head falls forward slightly, his face displaying a sense of devastation that’s no doubt shared by all of the city. “I’m sure.”

Your eyes flutter shut as a shudder of grief wracks your entire body. “Okay,” you whisper in acceptance. It’s a painful acceptance, and a part of you still wants to run to the bus and check for yourself.  “Then we need to–”

“Yes,” he immediately agrees. 

“Okay.” You take a deep breath, one that scalds your lungs as the air moves in and out. You take a shaky step away from him and start walking, suddenly desperate to put as much distance between yourself and the bus that has already imprinted itself harshly in your head, forever scalded into your long term memory. You can’t let yourself stay here, you need to focus on what’s going on ahead of you and keep going, however anguished you feel about it. It wretches at your heart to leave those people so callously behind, knowing they deserve more than someone turning their back on them in their first moments of death. 

But you also know that you need to keep moving if you want to make sure you’re not added to the growing list of casualties, guilty of nothing more than choosing to live in the concrete jungle of New York. There will be a time for mourning, a time to scream and cry and wallow in a misery so large it would swallow you whole, but now is not that time.

And so, with one last look at the twisted kaleidoscope of reds and yellows and oranges bursting up from the overturned vehicle, you finish crossing the street, Matt just a few steps behind you.