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berrryparfait · 3 months ago

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cherry blossoms in edo japan ⋆˚✿˖°

➴ continuation: misty sunsets in edo japan

— ༉‧₊ᐟ featuring: samurai! rafayel, caleb, zayne, xavier, sylus x fem!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: you are the sheltered daughter of a powerful clan leader in edo period japan. beneath the boughs of the cherry blossom trees lurks a mysterious shadow who keeps you safe... 「as long as you remain where i can see you, that is all i care about. ∼ tomoe, kamisama kiss」

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: historical japan au, jealous / kinda manipulative caleb, mild(?) enemies-to-lovers xavier

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: love upon wings in your heart – hoyo-mix

✧ a/n: this was inspired by the otome game nightshade (2016), which i really enjoyed. i've always loved the setting of historical japan, so here's an imagining of our LIs as badass, mysterious samurai TT

RAFAYEL, the sneaky and playful samurai... He’s agile and swift as a breeze, always on the lookout for trouble. You spend half the day listening to your father berate him for toppling yet another basket of peaches, but he never stays angry for long. No one could—Rafayel’s tendency for mischief was annoyingly endearing. He was beloved by the whole clan, including you. You tease each other like crazy, which brings you an embarrassing amount of joy. Thanks to him, days spent locked up in the estate are less lonely. However, even good days come to an end. An assassin from an enemy clan escaped the notice of the guards one night, and you were snatched from your home like a bar of gold. Just when you were about to lose all hope of rescue, Rafayel burst through the doors and eliminated the whole squad of assassins, the look on his face one you had never seen before. “Anyone who touches you will have to face my wrath. There is nothing dearer to me in this world.”

CALEB, the protective and dedicated samurai... Being a few years older, he's always been like a big brother to you. He trains with the other young men, always cracking jokes and flashing that bright smile of his. But don't be fooled—this man possesses an unparalleled work ethic and commitment to his path. If anyone was destined to be a samurai, it's Caleb. He simply knows how to enjoy himself when he's off duty. If anyone were to ask him what he thought of you, he'd laugh and say you were like a little sister to him. You know better. Once, he caught you by the lake with one of his friends. He scolded you for being alone with a man who wasn’t him and frightened his friend so badly that he never spoke to you again. Sometimes he takes it too far, you think to yourself. But you don't know what you'd do without him. "You don't understand the dangers you'll be getting into if you leave. Trust me, I know better." When will he stop coddling me? "I can take care of myself." He sighs and pats you on the head. "And cherry blossoms are blue."

ZAYNE, the dutiful and reserved samurai... You see him from time to time, always in some kind of rush. He works for your father and spends most of his time dealing with the clan’s adversaries. He’s good at his job, and you understand that without him, your family would never be truly safe. You’ve tried to speak to him, to ask him what his favorite season is and how long he’s been working for your father, but he’s as serious and detached as a cold winter’s night. He merely stares at you as if deeming you unworthy of his time. This morning, you woke up at the break of dawn to catch the sunrise by the cherry blossom trees. How you long for some company—a friend or two. That’s when you see it in the corner of your eye, there one second and gone the next: the glint of a sword disappearing behind the nearest building. You don’t question who it was. “It was you, wasn’t it? Earlier this morning, by the trees?” He merely glances away, feigning disinterest. A blush creeps onto his face “If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. Good day, my lady.”

XAVIER, the observant and efficient samurai... You’ve watched him train for years, the soft-spoken and no-nonsense mentor with a reputation for possessing the most impressive combat and stealth skills the clan has ever seen. He's usually sent on missions not to kill, but to spy—making him a silent but deadly threat to enemy clans and your father's most prized subordinate. As for you, you don't think very highly of him. Sure, he's an excellent fighter who also happens to be incredibly handsome and charming and cool, but what else does he have to offer? His answers are clipped, his tone condescending. He sure as hell doesn't care about you. He probably sees you as the troublesome, pampered daughter of his boss; just another disturbance he's forced to take care of. But why is it that you occasionally trade glances with him in crowded rooms, and wonder about how he's doing in the late hours of the night? "Oh. It's you," he remarks, unbothered by your appearance in his doorway. "If you're going to interrupt my sleep, the least you could do is come in."

SYLUS, the dangerous and elusive samurai... You’ve only ever seen him in the dark; an intimidating, ominous presence watching over you in the quiet hours of the night. You want so badly to get to know him, to understand him—you’ve called out for him to tell you his name a million times, but he refuses to share anything personal. You know he’s a menace, slinking in and out of the estate whenever he pleases to conduct his business, and you almost feel bad for the fools who stand in his way. One night, you sneak out into the forest to find him, yearning to escape from your life of boredom and solitude and become a samurai yourself. But first you’ll need to be trained. “Has the princess finally decided to come out of her castle?” You glare at him. “I hate it when you talk down to me like that.” He chuckles, then places a single cherry blossom in your hair. “Meet me here tomorrow night.”

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year ago

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if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

#aegon ii targaryen #sorry if I sound passive-aggressive guys (I totally am)#I am just so fed up with barbecue jokes and people mocking Aegon’s suffering for no fcking reason #I log on to this hellsite and 90% of the fandom is suddenly like that #so I had to make this post simply for myself (and maybe for 3 other people lol)#to think that people made excuses for Luke who MAIMED Aemond for life and then dared to laugh in his face #but when it comes to Aegon everyone is nitpicking his every move without ever trying to take his feelings into consideration #aegond #aemond targaryen #hotd critical #hotd S2 #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #aegon the second #laura rambles #the greens

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aventurineswife · 4 months ago

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Reader flinches during an argument😩🤚

You cna make it just flinching or them actually accidentally hurting reader, whatever you're more comfortable with

Characters: Jing Yuan, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Kaveh and Therta (get it? Cuz The Herta can be shortened to Therta... haha... ha)

Trust Reforged in the Quiet

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, The Herta x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Emotional Vulnerability, Arguments, Flinching Reaction, Apologies, Reconciliation, Romantic Tension, Communication, Soft Moments.

Warnings: Emotional conflict, Raised voices, Accidental intimidation, Mentions of guilt and emotional vulnerability. (No physical harm or abuse.)

A/N: yeah... I totally got it, ahahaha.. ha 🧍‍♀️

The peaceful glow of the Luofu was overshadowed by the tense atmosphere between you and Jing Yuan. The General stood in his study, his eyes fixed on you, frustration flickering behind their usual calm. The argument had started small, but it spiraled into something you hadn’t anticipated.

“You don’t understand the weight of these decisions,” Jing Yuan said, his tone sharper than usual. “Every action has consequences—not just for us, but for the entire Alliance.”

“I’m trying to help you!” you shot back, voice trembling. “But you keep shutting me out like I’m just an outsider!”

Jing Yuan ran a hand through his long hair, visibly exasperated. “It’s not about shutting you out—it’s about protecting you. Don’t you see that?”

When he suddenly stepped closer, his voice louder than before, you instinctively flinched, taking a step back. His eyes widened, his anger evaporating in an instant.

“Wait…” His voice softened. “Did you just flinch?”

You looked down, ashamed. The moment hung heavy in the air. Jing Yuan’s heart ached at the sight of you retreating from him, and he cursed himself for letting his emotions overwhelm his judgment.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, his hands hovering before dropping to his sides. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He took a step back himself, giving you space. “I would never hurt you.”

You hesitated before nodding, your eyes still wary. Jing Yuan took a deep breath, his usual calm returning. He walked to his desk, retrieved a cup of tea, and set it down in front of you.

“Let’s talk—properly this time,” he said, his voice steady but laced with remorse. “I want to listen to you, truly.”

And for the first time that evening, you felt safe enough to let him in.

The opulent office felt suffocating as Aventurine paced back and forth, his normally suave demeanor unraveling. You had challenged one of his high-stakes decisions, and he hadn’t taken it well.

“You think I didn’t calculate the risks?” he barked, his voice sharp as a blade. “You think I don’t know exactly what I’m doing?”

“I’m saying it’s dangerous, Aventurine!” you shot back, your voice rising to match his. “You can’t keep gambling with people’s lives like this!”

His eyes burned with frustration. “You don’t understand the game I’m playing! Every move I make is—”

When he spun to face you, gesturing emphatically, you flinched, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. The slight recoil stopped Aventurine mid-sentence. His hand, frozen mid-air, dropped to his side.

For a moment, silence reigned. Then, his voice came out softer, almost unsure. “Did I… scare you?”

You didn’t respond immediately, and that was answer enough. Aventurine’s usually confident mask cracked, revealing the guilt underneath. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his tone devoid of its usual bravado. “I let my temper get the better of me.”

You crossed your arms, your voice shaky. “I just want you to see that I care, Aventurine. You don’t have to face everything alone.”

He chuckled dryly, his smile weak but genuine. “It seems I’m the one who needs a reminder of that sometimes.” He reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing yours. “Can we try this again? No shouting this time.”

You nodded, and as he led you to sit beside him, the gambler seemed determined to show you he was more than just his sharp words and risky strategies.

The gentle hum of the Astral Express felt distant as you and Dan Heng faced off in the library. He rarely raised his voice, but tonight, his frustration was palpable.

“You can’t just rush into danger like that!” Dan Heng exclaimed, his voice uncharacteristically forceful. “Do you have any idea how reckless that was?”

“I was trying to help!” you defended, equally upset. “You always act like I can’t handle myself!”

“Because you don’t see the risks!” He stepped forward, his hand clutching his spear. “What if something had happened to you? Do you think I could—”

When his voice rose further, and his spear clinked against the floor as he adjusted his grip, you flinched, taking a step back. Dan Heng immediately froze, his sharp eyes widening in realization. The air grew heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

“You…” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He set his spear down, his hands shaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to… I would never—”

You looked away, biting your lip. “It’s fine. I just… wasn’t expecting you to—”

“No, it’s not fine,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with guilt. “I lost control. That’s on me.”

Dan Heng lowered himself to sit on the edge of the table, his posture uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I don’t want to push you away. I’m just… scared of losing you.”

You hesitated before stepping closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m scared too, but we need to face this together. You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

He nodded, his usual calm slowly returning. “You’re right. I’ll… do better.”

In that moment, you saw the real Dan Heng—not the stoic guardian, but the man who carried the weight of the past and feared losing the one person who made him feel safe.

The grandiose living room of Alhaitham's home felt oppressive as your argument with Kaveh escalated. He stood in the middle of the room, his expressive eyes alight with frustration. You had challenged one of his decisions, and his idealistic nature didn’t take it lightly.

“You don’t understand what this means to me!” Kaveh exclaimed, his voice shaking. “I worked my entire life to make a difference through my designs! And now you’re questioning that?”

“I’m not questioning your work, Kaveh,” you said, your voice tinged with desperation. “I’m worried about you! You’re pushing yourself too hard, taking on too much—”

“Because I have to!” he shouted, his hands flaring in an animated gesture. “If I don’t, who will? Do you think anyone else cares as much as I do?” He stepped closer, his tone growing sharper as he continued. “Stop acting like you—”

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You flinched, taking a small step back as his voice rose and his movements became more animated. The action stopped him in his tracks, the weight of the moment crashing down around him like a crumbling structure.

His arms dropped to his sides, and his face fell. “Did… did I scare you?” he asked, his voice suddenly quiet and laced with regret.

You didn’t reply immediately, your throat tight with emotion. “I—I didn’t mean to—” you started, but Kaveh shook his head, cutting you off.

“No,” he said firmly, his tone filled with self-reproach. “This isn’t on you. I… I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” He took a step back, giving you space, his eyes filled with guilt. “I never meant to make you feel unsafe.”

“Kaveh…” you began, your voice softening.

He turned away briefly, running a hand through his hair. “I let my emotions get the better of me. Again. It’s just… everything feels like it’s falling apart, and I’m trying so hard to hold it together.”

You stepped forward hesitantly, placing a hand on his arm. “I know you’re trying, Kaveh. But you don’t have to do it alone. You don’t have to carry this weight by yourself.”

He looked at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I just… I don’t know how to let go. But I don’t ever want to hurt you, not even by accident.”

“You won’t,” you assured him, squeezing his arm gently. “But you need to let yourself rest, Kaveh. Let yourself breathe.”

He nodded slowly, his usual dramatic flair subdued by the gravity of the moment. “You’re right. I’ll… I’ll try. For you.”

And as the tension eased, you saw in his eyes the vulnerability he often tried to mask with passion and idealism—a man who cared so deeply, it sometimes consumed him.

The sterile halls of Herta’s spaceship echoed with the sharp edge of your argument. Herta stood before her console, her fingers tapping impatiently on its surface as she glared at you.

“Do you even understand the magnitude of what I’m trying to achieve here?” she asked, her tone biting. “This isn’t just some experiment—it’s a breakthrough!”

“I do understand,” you replied, your voice raised. “But you’re so focused on the outcome that you’re ignoring the risks!”

Herta’s eyes narrowed as she whirled around to face you, her movements swift and deliberate. “Risks are inevitable in science! If I stopped every time something was dangerous, we wouldn’t even have the Simulated Universe! You—” She gestured sharply, stepping closer as her voice grew louder.

The suddenness of her movement made you flinch, your shoulders tensing as you instinctively stepped back. The reaction was subtle but unmistakable. Herta froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening in realization.

She stared at you for a long moment, the tension in her posture dissipating. “Wait… did I just… scare you?” she asked, her voice unusually soft.

You looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean to.”

But Herta shook her head, her usual detached demeanor cracking. “No, it’s not fine,” she said, setting her clipboard aside. “I might be a genius, but that doesn’t give me the right to… intimidate you like that.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the remorse in her tone. “Herta…”

She crossed her arms, avoiding your eyes as she spoke. “I get so caught up in my work, I forget about the people around me. I’m sorry.” She sighed, her sharp wit returning slightly. “It seems even I have room for improvement.”

You chuckled softly despite the tension. “You think?”

She smiled faintly, stepping closer but keeping her movements slow and deliberate. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll explain everything properly this time—no yelling, no dramatics.”

You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening. “I’d like that.”

As she guided you to her desk, the usual confidence in her demeanor was tempered by a quiet sincerity. For the first time, you saw the side of Herta that wasn’t just a genius or a scientist, but someone who valued your trust more than any experiment.

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heartyluv · 2 months ago

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love your blog so dang much 🫶🫶🫶 may I request protective Sylus who is there to prevent reader from harm in a sticky situation? (circumstances completely up to you) 💕

Note: Ahhhh, I can’t thank you enough. Making you happy makes me happy! I wasn’t too sure how to go about this, but I think it ended up coming out pretty decent. I hope you think so. It’s actually longer than I anticipated, too. Enjoy!

Warning: Shooting, Sylus kills someone, Gross man touches and hits you. Sylus arrives in time so nothing graphic happens, but please, still read with caution.

Word Count: 2,333

Sylus/Reader

“It’s not too late to change your mind. I can figure out how to get what I need another way.”

“I know you can. But I know I can do this for you.” You take hold of your worrying boyfriend’s hand, caressing his knuckles gently with your thumb.

“In and out, do you understand?” He says gruffly, concern etched in his tone. You look to Sylus with full attention, comprehending and digesting all of his words. “Do not compromise yourself and do not put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

“Just because I don’t care to do something a certain way, doesn’t mean it won’t be done in order to keep you safe,” he says firmly before taking your hand and sliding a small ruby red ring onto your thumb. “Do not hesitate to press this should you need me.”

When you offered to help your boyfriend complete a job, of course his first and immediate response was no. You weren’t trained, nor did he want you to be apart of this kind of aspect of his life. He was the one who got his hands dirty, who lied and manipulated who he needed to in order to get things done—not you. But you begged him.

You begged him so much, promised that you could help. You just wanted to feel useful. You wanted Sylus to know how much you really had his back, how dedicated you are to him. You wanted to prove yourself.

But he didn’t need you to do that because Sylus knew how much he could trust you and how much you cared for him. He was your protector and letting you do this goes against everything he stands for when it comes to keeping you safe. It was with complete reluctance when he finally caved and said yes to letting you enter a party undercover. It was only because he truly saw how much you were bothered and came to understand how important it was to you to be useful despite it being unnecessary in his eyes

It’s a fairly simple job. You’re to retrieve documents relating to the operations of an arms dealer trying to climb the ranks to surpass a top businessman like your boyfriend.

He wasn’t a threat, but Sylus handled his business in a way that never allowed something with potential to solidify. Knowing what this man was going for, who he was working with, and his plans, was all he needed to squash his business before it could really get off the ground.

You look down at the short tight black dress you put on, feeling slightly uncomfortable because not only did you not tend to wear clothes like this, but you were wearing it to flaunt yourself in order to gain the arms dealer’s, Mikael’s, attention.

Sylus’ main reason as to why he was allowing you to do this because he would be out here waiting for you with Luke and Kieran, ready to wreak havoc if necessary. Admittedly, if you were able to go in and obtain the information he needed, it would make his life incredibly easy, but difficultly wasn’t a foreign concept to Sylus. If anything happens to you, going in with guns blazing wasn’t above him, even if it would cause some hiccups that he’d have to deal with. He had no other plan at the moment and you were his best shot, but in the end? You were coming home with him unscathed.

You look out the window of the SUV you’re in and gaze at the large mansion with obnoxious strobe lights and loud music. Luke is parked right beside you in a sleek red sports car, ready to drive you to the front door so that you can have a flashy entrance. It’ll draw Mikael’s attention and unfortunately, that’s exactly what you need. Bringing your eyes back to Sylus, you softly smile and hope your nervousness isn’t so evident.

“I got this Sy, I promise. In and out.” He nods curtly, reaching over the center console and kissing your lips before sighing. He gives you the okay to go, watching you climb out of the passenger seat of the black vehicle and into the backseat of the expensive one. Kieran sits up in the backseat, patting his shoulder.

“She’ll be okay, Boss. She’s smart and we’re here for her if anything.”

But Sylus doesn’t speak. He simply watches the car turn onto the road and head to the house whose backyard he’s about to wait in while you’re inside. For their sake, you will be okay. Because no one will be able to control the man he will become if you aren’t.

When Luke drives off, your body buzzes with uncertainty. There’s no guards or anything, but you know they’re around. That incognito feeling and uncertainty of their placements has you on edge, but Sylus assured you that he had it covered. Slowly, you climb the marble steps and walk into the lavish home, feeling the beat pulse through your body as dozens of people gyrate against each other in any open space available.

And just as you thought, Mikael has been staring at you since the moment you came in. You know he heard the loud music Luke played, know he’s curious about the lone woman who’s come to his party.

Sylus showed you several images of him, so you’re not mistaken about who the older man is. Short, stubby, balding, and in his 50s.

Two women sit on his lap in the little VIP section he’s created from himself and he roughly squeezes their thigh, saying something before they stand up. Mikael is next, pushing past them with two cups of what you assume is alcohol, in his hand as he makes his way to you.

“And what is a pretty lady like you doing, coming here alone? Come to see me, hm?” His grin is mischievous and it makes you want to cringe as he hands you the drink of what smells like whiskey. But you promised Sylus. You promised yourself.

You smirk, stepping closer and looking him up and down, biting your lip to make him believe that you want him. What you really want is to vomit.

“And if I did?” you tease, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and his eyes fall to your mouth.

“I’d say you’re a smart broad.” He steps closer, his overpowering cologne washing over you as he whispers in your ear.

“I gotta say, ain’t been no girls as sexy as you in here tonight. Come to the VIP and we’ll see how lucky you get.”

Disrespectful and full of himself. Every single part of you wants to kick his ass.

You simply smile and nod, taking his sweaty hand and letting him guide you to the booths he has in the corner of what seems to be the living room. Sylus said his office is upstairs and that’s where he has the documents.

You’re so close. You won’t fail, you tell yourself.

It feels like hours go by as he gropes your body in ways that makes you want to have his hands shot off. From your ass to your thighs, he just keeps touching. But you need to get into that office. You refused to drink, trying to keep him talking and distracted with monotonous conversation.

And finally, finally he says what you’ve been waiting for.

“Why don’t I take you upstairs? Show you around?” He grabs himself through his pants, and the urge to hurl continues to grow. Your anxiety spikes as well, because this is exactly what Sylus said not to do, but it’s the only way you have.

“Don’t let yourself end up alone with him. If you can’t a way to the office by yourself, leave. I’ll be there for you.”

But you can’t leave. You won’t.

People continue to party as Mikael brings you upstairs and down one of many halls, showing you several different rooms. He’s flaunting his wealth clearly, as well as his status while he gloats on and on about how he doesn’t know what to do with all the space.

He passes a door though, and that makes you stop.

“What’s in here?” you speak up, and he turns around with a sly smile.

“Curious thing, aren’t you?” he chuckles. “My office. Nothing in there you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

“Mm, I’m not worried. But I do like offices. I like them a lot,” you let your words end in a flirtatious tone.

“Yeah? Tell me what you like.”

“Why don’t I show you?” He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Easy. Of course he is.

He pulls a key out of his pocket, using it to unlock the door. Paranoid too, it seems.

When you’re in the office, you look for the safe. Sylus mentioned that would be behind a painting and how convenient that there’s only one in here with Mikael sitting on a throne. Pitiful.

Before you can try and say anything, Mikael wraps his arms around your waist and your body tense as he kisses your neck.

“Wait—” You try and speak but he’s tugging at your dress.

“No wait,” he grumbles, his breath like lava on your skin. “You don’t get to tease me all night and try and take it slow, doll. Show me what you like about offfices so much.”

You try and push him back, but he just starts getting more aggressive. The more you pushback, the angrier he becomes. So much so that he hits you because of your resistance.

You fall to the floor due to the impact, your eyes widening with fear at what he might try and do. Is he going to kill you? Worse? You don’t want to find out.

You’re way in over you head. You hate that it took you this long to realize that, but you need help. You need Sylus and you need him now.

It’s as soon as you press the button on the ring that you start hearing gunfire. Mikael looks at you with accusatory eyes.

“You bitch!” he snarls. “What did you do?! Who do you work for?!”

He starts to snatch you up, griping your arm tightly, but the door kicks open, wood splintering and flying through the room. Sylus doesn’t even give him a chance to let you go. He simply shoots him in the knee, causing Mikael to fall to the floor in agony.

“I’m so sorry,” you mewl, feeling tears prickle in your eyes.

Sylus squats down next to you, his eyes raking over your body. It’s the sight of your disheveled clothes, the red print on your face and arm, and the fact that you pressed the button in the first place, that makes his blood boil. He’s fueled with rage, but he refuses to scare you more than you already are.

“You’re okay,” he promises you. “I’m taking us home.”

Mikael looks at Sylus with shock and fear, still disoriented from the pain.

“S-Sylus!” he shouts and your boyfriend stands, giving him attention and tilting his head.

“I mean, Mr. Sylus! I didn’t know—I swear, she came onto me! I would never—“

“Your attempt to excuse your actions only angers me more than I already am. For her, I will make your death swift.” He takes a step forward. “Had I not been so determined to make sure she remains okay, you would have felt more pain than the result of a bullet. You’re a poor excuse of a human being and there is no such thing as redemption for you. Maybe you’ll do better in your next life.” Sylus shoots Mikael so that one bullet is all he needs to end him, point blank.

You jump, tears falling down your cheeks. You’re embarrassed and shaken up. Sylus has killed in front of you before. That’s not what scares you. It’s just the intensity and reality of it all. You weren’t ready, and Sylus was right to be hesitant.

But he doesn’t think any of that at all.

“Come, sweetie,” he gently grabs hold of your hands. “I’m here. Can you stand?”

You nod, letting him help you up as he rests his suit jacket on your shoulders. He guides you out of the barren home and back into the SUV, throwing orders to the twins to get everything cleaned up and to get the files.

The drive is silent, all the way until you’re back home. Sylus helps you out the car when you arrive, taking you inside. He brings you to the grand bathroom and begins to undress you, then runs a hot bath with your favorite bath salts and soaps. He undresses himself next, letting you step into the tub first before climbing in and sitting behind you.

“I’m sorry…” you finally speak, only to apologize again.

“Don’t be,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I failed—”

“I failed. I knew better than to let you go in there, yet I did it anyway. But you’re safe now, kitten. As long as I’m breathing, you will always be safe. Do you believe me?”

“I do,” you say just below a whisper.

“Put all your faith in me. I won’t make the mistake of putting you in harms way ever again.”

Your eyes water again and you turn around, taking advantage of the large tub to sit in his lap. You wrap yourself around him, holding him close as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Sleep, sweetie,” he kisses your cheek. “I have you. I’ll take care of everything.”

You listen to him because you trust him as much as he does you. Had he not been there… you don’t even want to think of it anymore. All that matters is that he was. He will always come to your rescue because a life without you is not a life Sylus will ever experience. That, he is sure.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #lads sylus

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blairxbear · 4 months ago

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When they realise they are in love with you...

Class 1A / Other UA Students / Pro Heroes / Villains

How will these villains react to realising that they are in love with you?

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi/Toya Todoroki, Shuichi Iguchi/Spinner, Kai Chisake/Overhaul, Jin Bubaigawara/Twice, Atsuhiro Sako/Mr. Compress, Young All For One

Tomura Shigaraki

• Love is foreign to him—it’s something he associates with weakness, pain, and loss.

• He doesn’t understand his own emotions at first—he just knows he wants you close but is terrified of hurting you.

• The moment he truly realizes it? One night, you fall asleep near him, completely unafraid. He stares at you for hours, his hands shaking.

• “They trust me. No one’s ever trusted me like this before.”

• He tries pushing you away at first, convinced you deserve better.

• But when he sees you smiling at him like he’s more than a villain, he breaks. He’s yours now. No escape.

• His confession is raw and broken, whispered against your skin like a secret he’s too scared to say out loud.

• “I don’t want to ruin you… but I think I love you.”

Toya Todoroki (Dabi)

• Dabi doesn’t believe in love—to him, it’s just another lie, another way to get hurt.

• But when he realizes he feels safe with you, it scares the hell out of him.

• The moment he knows? He sees you patching up his burns, touching his scarred skin without flinching, and something in him shatters.

• “Why aren’t they afraid of me?”

• He tries dismissing it as lust, obsession—anything but love.

• But when he sees you laughing at one of his dumb jokes, he realizes he’d burn the whole world down to keep you safe.

• His confession is casual but intense—maybe after a mission, cigarette between his lips, acting like it’s nothing.

• “Tch. Guess I love you. Sucks for you, huh?”

Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner)

• Spinner is completely awkward about romance—he never thought anyone would look at him that way.

• He realizes it slowly, over time—when you’re the only one who really listens to him.

• The moment it hits him like a truck? You defend his ideals in front of the League, proving you actually believe in him.

• “Holy shit. They actually care.”

• Suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about you, watching your reactions, hanging on your words.

• His confession is embarrassingly nervous, probably stammering through it.

• “Uh… okay, don’t laugh, but I think I might be, um… kinda in love with you? Shit, that sounds dumb—”

Kai Chisaki (Overhaul)

• Love is a weakness, something that doesn’t belong in his world.

• He tries to rationalize it, seeing you as an asset, a necessity—but that excuse crumbles fast.

• The moment he realizes? You touch him without hesitation, and for the first time in years, he doesn’t flinch or feel disgusted.

• “They’re not… dirty. They’re not tainted. How?”

• He spirals—overanalyzing, avoiding, obsessing.

• When someone threatens you, and he feels pure, unfiltered rage, it clicks. He’s in love.

• His confession is cold and clinical but deeply possessive.

• “You belong to me now. Don’t argue.”

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

• Love is messy, complicated, and dangerous—and he’s already got too many voices in his head.

• He realizes it when he starts thinking about you more than himself, more than his own survival.

• The moment it hits him hard? You remember something small about him—his favorite snack, his childhood memories—and he just… freezes.

• “No one’s ever cared that much about me.”

• His emotions become even more chaotic, flipping between being clingy and pulling away out of fear.

• His confession is a total nervous wreck—probably talking to himself about it first before blurting it out to you.

• “Shit, shit, I love you! Wait, do I? YES, I DO—oh god, is this a bad idea?!”

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

• He’s suave and theatrical, but love? Love is tricky. Dangerous. A gamble.

• He realizes it when he starts protecting you first, putting you above the mission.

• The moment it fully sinks in? You call him out on his loneliness, and he realizes you see through his mask.

• “They know me. The real me.”

• Suddenly, his usual charm feels meaningless unless it’s you he’s entertaining.

• His confession is smooth but deeply genuine—probably whispered against your ear, teasing yet serious.

• “My dear, you’ve stolen something precious from me… my heart.”

Young All For One

• Love, to him, is power—a tool to manipulate, to control.

• Or at least… that’s what he thought before you.

• He realizes he’s in love when he stops seeing you as replaceable—when he wants to keep you, not as an asset, but as something more.

• The moment it truly hits? You defy him, looking him in the eyes without fear, and instead of being furious… he’s intrigued.

• “They’re… mine.”

• Suddenly, he finds himself protecting you, indulging you, giving you power instead of taking it away.

• His confession is low and dangerous, more of a claim than a request.

• “You belong to me, little one. And I belong to you.”

Ko-fi / Masterlist

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malfoysanctuary · 2 months ago

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For You, I Burn

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred Weasley has always been laughter and mischief, until someone crosses the line with you. And when he finally snaps, the entire room learns what happens when you touch what’s his.

The Burrow always smelled like cinnamon and sun-warmed wood, like safety and the childhood you didn’t know you were missing until you stepped through its crooked door.

You were barefoot in the kitchen that morning, tea mug in hand, wearing one of Fred’s jumpers that hung off your shoulder. The sleeves swallowed your hands, and the worn Weasley crest over your heart felt like armor stitched from love.

Fred came in, hair a mess, shirt wrinkled, that sleepy smirk on his face—the one that made your stomach tighten in all the best ways.

“Mornin’, gorgeous.” He kissed your cheek before stealing your mug for a sip. “Mmm. You really do make the best tea.”

“That was my cup,” you huffed, but your lips were already tugging into a smile.

“Exactly,” he said, cradling it in his hands like it belonged to him. Like you did.

And you did.

Fred Weasley was a walking contradiction.

He lived loud—always the first to laugh, the last to leave a party, the one who lit up any room with a spark in his eye and trouble on his tongue. He was chaos wrapped in kindness, sharp wit hidden beneath mischief.

But anger?

Fred wasn’t angry.

Not truly. Not the way some people snapped or fumed. His fuse was long. He shrugged off insults. Rolled with punches. He could be mocked, cursed at, even shoved—and he’d still grin like it was all a game.

There was only one thing that ever set Fred Weasley on fire.

You.

The thought of you hurt or afraid? It undid him. Peeled back something primal. Something furious.

It started at the Ministry gala—a sleek, post-war event meant to show peace had returned, though it still echoed with tension no one wanted to name.

You wore a midnight-blue dress that shimmered when you moved. Fred had stared the moment you stepped out of your room, blinking like he forgot how words worked.

“You… You’re going to kill me,” he’d said.

“Just for looking like this?”

He grinned. “No. For making it impossible not to.”

At the gala, Fred stuck close. Fingers brushing yours. Elbow bumping yours. Protective in the way a man is when he wants to keep you close, but still let you shine.

You’d just been talking to Angelina and George when it happened. Fred had ducked away to get drinks, trusting you were safe.

And for a while, you were.

Until a man in deep purple robes—older, smug, the kind of Ministry lifer who thought charm and cruelty were the same—wandered over. He smiled too widely, his eyes too sharp.

“I see the Weasley boy brought his… little project tonight.”

You stiffened.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play coy. Pretty thing like you? I’m just saying, the war made desperate men settle early. Can’t imagine you bring much else to the table besides a pretty face.”

George moved first. “Hey. Back off.”

But the man only chuckled and turned toward you again. “Unless that’s the charm, of course. Is that it? A bit of fun before something better comes along?”

You opened your mouth—burning to respond—but you didn’t need to.

Fred was already there.

You didn’t see him coming, but you felt it.

Like heat. Like a lightning storm behind your back.

Fred’s voice came low and lethal:

“Say that again.”

The man turned, startled—but still smirking. “Weasley—don’t get yourself worked up. It’s just—”

CRACK.

Fred’s hand slammed the edge of the table beside them. Glass shattered. Conversations halted. The music stuttered and dropped into silence.

Fred didn’t shout. He didn’t even raise his voice.

But the look in his eyes was enough to make the entire room hold its breath.

“You want to insult me?” he said. “Do it. Take your best shot. I’ve heard worse.”

His voice dropped, dangerous and still. “But the second you talk about her like that? The second you reduce her to something small? We’ve got a problem.”

The man’s face paled.

Fred stepped closer, each movement coiled, his frame radiating restraint just barely holding.

“You don’t know a single thing about her,” Fred growled. “You don’t know how she held me together when I couldn’t breathe. How she wakes up from nightmares with a whisper instead of a scream. How she fits into my arms like magic, like she was built to fix every broken thing in me. So you’ll keep her name out of your filthy mouth—or you’ll find out how far I’m willing to go for the woman I love.”

No wand. No joke.

Just rage.

Quiet and shaking and terrifying.

You gently wrapped your fingers around his hand. “Fred.”

His head snapped toward you—and his expression cracked. The fury drained from his face in a slow, pained collapse.

His eyes roamed over you like he had to check—make sure you were whole. Safe. Breathing.

“Did he—did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No. Just made me feel… small.”

Fred turned back to the man. “Be grateful that’s all she said.”

He took your hand and led you away, not looking back.

It was nearly one in the morning by the time you made it back to the Burrow. The party dress was long gone, replaced by one of Fred’s shirts. He sat on the edge of the bed, jaw clenched, fists tight in his lap.

“I scared you,” he said.

“No.”

His voice cracked. “I scared me.”

You knelt between his legs, holding his hands, thumb stroking the freckled skin. “You were protecting me.”

“I’ve never felt like that before,” he whispered. “That kind of fury. Like I’d rip the world apart if it even looked at you wrong.”

“Fred…”

His gaze finally met yours. “I don’t want to become someone who reacts like that. Someone people fear.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “You’re not. You didn’t do that for power or pride. You did it for love.”

He exhaled sharply. “That man… the way he looked at you. Like you were something cheap. Like he could take what wasn’t his.”

“He didn’t. He couldn’t.”

Fred’s arms wrapped around you then, pulling you into his lap, his face tucked into your neck.

“I love you,” he whispered. “More than I ever knew I could love anything.”

You held his face in your hands. “And I love every part of you. Even the fire.”

That night, you fell asleep tangled together under the quilt, limbs twined like ivy. And before you drifted off, you whispered:

“Still angry?”

Fred kissed your shoulder. “Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

He shifted closer, voice warm against your skin.

“Because you’re here,” he murmured. “And he’s not.”

And that was all that mattered.

Because Fred Weasley wasn’t known for his temper.

But he’d burn the world down for you.

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #shifting to hogwarts #hogwarts houses #gryffindor #slytherin #hogwarts oc #x reader #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

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peachesofteal · 6 months ago

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MELOS (PART TWO)

main masterlist / Azriel's masterlist

Part One / Melos masterlist 5k words - AO3 Tags: 18+ mdni. Blood, feelings of fear and panic. Reader POV. Trauma. Protective Azriel. Canon-compliant, post ACOSF and HOFAS. "I would spend a lifetime earning your forgiveness"

The fly amanita has been eluding you.

It’s speckled red cap is usually so easy to spot, but you’ve been trudging through the woods all day, turning over logs and peering around tree trunks to no avail. You’re getting closer and closer to the break in the forest, the one bordering a large meadow rich with wildflowers, the one you hardly venture to unless you’re truly desperate for something specific.

You’re seriously considering it when something dusky red catches your attention from the corner of your eye, and you breathe a sigh of relief as you spot the healthy patch of fungi. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you sink to your knees, digging down to the roots. The soil is wet, freshly damp from a recent rainstorm, and it sticks to your fingertips. “Such a pain in-“

Magic scrapes at your skin. Long gruesome fingers of something unseen try to clutch at you, drag you away, and your power surges to meet it, beating it back to the gloom it calls home. You shudder. The magic from your mother's blood, the gifts the Middle grants you, are enough to keep you safe, protect you from most things in this place, the ones nefarious and full of malice, but that does not mean they do not try.

You exhale, breathing freely in the crisp winter breeze whispering through the trees, rustling the deadfall into small vortexes that spin across the wood, twisting upward in a delicate dance of changing seasons. You lift your face to the sun just as the wind turns dark, smoky grey, and then explodes in a burst of ink, onyx spilling around the mushrooms, wisps snaking through the stems towards your knees.

You swat them away.

Azriel.

You grit your teeth. Don't think about him, don't think about him, don't think-

A shadow brushes against you like a feather, and you hiss.

Azriel.

The male who tortured you. Used you. Gained your trust to hurt you. Suffocated you until you thought you were going to die, until spots appeared in your vision and your heart slowed. The male that hurt you, in more ways than one.

Fooled into falling for a ruse, you believed it meant something every time your heart thundered when he was near, how your magic crooned for him, tried to reach for him, touch him. The pain you saw in him, over and over again, a mirror to your own, led you to believe in a fairy tale that never existed, a stupid notion about two halves of a whole, only for it to crumble and reveal manipulation and lies.

And after it all, whatever he gleaned from you he must have determined to be inconsequential, since no one has shown up at your door to haul you away for execution. No one came to imprison you, or banish you, or torture you, again. No one came to take you away from your home, your life, like you were expecting.

He did it for nothing.

The shadows are an ever-present reminder.

Ever. Present.

They collect in the corners at work, they trail along the ground as you run your errands, go to dinner, visit your only friend in the city.

Thankfully, they seem to stay out of your house, though in the middle of the night, it’s not so easy to tell.

You shoot them a glare. “Run back to your master and leave me alone, for the hundredth time.” You have no concept of a Shadowsinger’s magic, or an Illyrian’s, no idea if the shadows see, or hear, or speak. Their presence frustrates you, and his hoarse attempt at an apology that night still haunts you. Why does he not just come to speak with you? Explain himself? Justify his actions?

It’s been weeks, and still nothing. Silence from the Spymaster. Your rage that was once all consuming is starting to cool, leaving a mess of confusion and pain in its place.

You need to let it go, you must, but the music persists, faintly there in the back of your mind, a melody you can’t forget.

It’s a double-edged sword, one that slices and stings. You see him in your nightmares, and your dreams. In the dark, you hear his voice, cold and calculating, pacing around you in a suffocating circle, and in the sun, you see him in the Middle, ablaze in a mist of brilliant blue, brushing his lips against yours.

You’ve grown familiar with how a room changes when one of the Wraith sisters arrive. Shadow rolls in like a fog, dissipating as they materialize, grey gossamer turning to smoky quartz, taking shape as a beautiful female, her eyes iridescent like black pearls.

Rarely, do the twins ever come together.

Today is the exception.

Cerridwen gives you a half smile, gaze lingering on your clothes. “If I made you a new frock, would you throw this one out? It’s nearly in tatters.” You huff.

“This is my work frock; it’s supposed to be a bit messy.”

“It’s not messy, it’s falling apart.” She raises an eyebrow, and Nuala places a slender hand on the stack of brown paper wrapped packages on the table.

“How are you?” The question is loaded, expectant, and they watch you, analyzing every second of whatever is showing on your face.

“I’m fine.” Are you? The lie is so painfully obvious, and they exchange a look.

“Azriel,” Nuala begins cautiously, “has asked if you would be open to seeing him.” You freeze.

“I..”

“In a public place of your choosing, in the city.” The very idea tips you off balance, blindsides you. Could you do it? See him?

“With a third party, if you would like.” Cerridwen adds. Maybe this is your chance at closure, an opportunity to put it to rest. “Take some time to decide, and we’ll-“

“No, no. I’ll do it.” You scramble to think of a place where you’ll feel safe, somewhere you’ll be among many, and not few. “Is… Rose and Thorn okay? It’s in the Palace of Thread and Jewels.” They nod.

“Of course. And a third party?” You shake your head. Something in your soul assures you no chaperone is needed, and you allow it to guide you. “Very well.” Nuala waves her hand, wisps of storm clouds floating around her fingers-

And then Wraith sisters are gone.

He’s there before you.

Seated at a table outside, elegant and sculpted, an exquisite, eldritch beauty accentuated by strong, chiseled lines. His skin glows golden brown in the warm bath of the sun, flecks of caramel and green, honey and oak painted together like a priceless landscape in his irises. His wings are tucked in a tight formation at his back, but even in restraint, they shudder, their membranes more unique than a snowflake, more delicate than a spider’s web.

He’s almost too stunning to look at. The beauty of a god. A prince of shadow, shining in winter’s glow.

Suddenly, you’re very self-conscious, fighting the urge to pick at the frayed threads of your dress, too aware of how faded its once emerald green is, how fast your heart is beating, anxiety and pin pricks of fear cascading up your spine, coupled with an undeniable longing that shakes you to your core.

An ocean tide too strong drags your eyes to his, holding you captive in its current, the two of you suspended, floating, woven together in a melody, same song you’ve been hearing, feeling, all this time, elusive, empyreal notes harmonizing across your soul, your magic. The heat of the patio, magic humming in the air producing the equivalent of a warm spring day, urges you out of the cold and towards the table, meeting him where he stands, so tall he towers over you.

“Hello.” Your stomach flips. This is suddenly harder than you imagined, and you’re being torn in two, afraid and yearning, two sides of a coin. His eyes gentle, and he moves back a fraction, giving you space. You manage to clear your throat.

“Hi.” You can’t look away, and finally, after a second turned eternity, he motions to the chair.

“Would you like to sit?”

“Sure.” The words are stiff, like your back, and you hold yourself rigid, hands clasped together in your lap.

“Thank you for coming, I… I know this was a lot to ask.” You nod, unable to make your mouth move. “Are you well?”

“Yes.” You’ll need more than one syllable answers to get through this, and you fight against the vice squeezing in around you, trying shake loose the battle raging in your blood. There's a need to protect yourself, fortify yourself... and another, one humming a song of wonder, of desire, a song you don't know the words to. He takes a deep breath.

“There’s nothing I can say to excuse what I did, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I-“

"What you did? You tortured me, you terrorized me. You made me feel like I was dying. and I... why did you… why did you waste your time tricking me into thinking you were… we were… it was all fake.” Your voice breaks, and his eyes flash with despair. “You tricked me into trusting you, letting you get… close,” you study the tabletop, fingertips tracing loops in the woodgrain, trying to maintain your control. You can’t let him see how badly it hurts; how awful it is to know whatever you thought was happening between the two of you wasn’t real, how he's shattered your own trust in yourself. How could you not see the deceit? How could have fallen for such a blatant deception? How could you allow yourself to be hurt like that? These are the questions keeping you from sleep as they toss about in your mind, scolding you, chastising you for allowing yourself to be so weak. Stupid. “Why waste all that time if you were just going to do it? The act itself was... it was terrible but the manipulation, the lie that came with it, feels worse somehow.” Your cheeks heat with shame, mortified at the tears now blurring your vision, and his hand twitches, almost jerks towards yours before sliding away.

“There are no words in any language, anywhere, to tell you how sorry I am. I would spend a lifetime earning your forgiveness, if you’d let me.” Everything you want to fight back with, the words you wish to bury him with, die on your tongue as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I don’t deserve to see you or ask for a moment of your time. I don’t even deserve this chance you’ve given me today but… nothing was a trick, it was not fake. I was a fool.” You know you should say something, but still nothing comes, and there’s a rising uneasiness emanating from his, shadows shivering around him in a halo. “I would ask you to strike a bargain with me.” What?

“A bargain?” He nods solemnly, face set with resolve, foreign limerence weighed down by sorrow reflecting in his gaze.

“Allow me to spend some time with you, to show you how sorry I am, to prove how real it was, and in return, I will owe you a debt.” You fight to keep your face blank, smothering an outward ripple of shock. Maybe he’s gone insane.

“You… the Spymaster of the Night Court… would owe me a debt.” You chew on it, toss it around between your cheeks, try to digest the enormity of it. A debt could be anything, it’s a favor, a wish, a request that must be granted, no matter what it is. You could ask that he drink a vial of poison, and he’d have to do it. Could ask him to leave Pyrthian, and he’d have no choice. Most importantly, you could ask him to leave you alone. Forever. “And if I asked you to never speak to me again?” He winces.

“That would be your right.” This is a bad idea. Your magic trills, vibrating with a strange yearning, again guiding you away from the rational choice and into an agreement.

“I will see you once a week for a month, and in return, you will owe me a debt,” you extend your hand, “and swear not to harm me.” You add hastily, expecting him to refuse, or attempt to change the terms, but he meets you with zero hesitation.

The magic hits you like a gale force wind, wild and too strong, planting itself in your skin to push ink to the surface.

A tree.

The roots sprawl around your wrist, twisting upward into a trunk and then outward into branches, spreading wide until they’re nearly touching on the inside of your forearm. He snags a finger under the cuff of his shirt to reveal the tattoo’s twin, the concrete vow between the two of you plain as day.

What did you just do?

You’re taking advantage of the first meeting. Having a second with you, a powerful, formidable second, gives you an opportunity to trek into a more dangerous, more unstable part of the Middle in search of a rare mineral.

You’re also using it as punishment, irritated with the small twinge of guilt growing in your side. He strides along at your side silently, shadows skittering ahead across the forest floor, disappearing and reappearing at will, as if they’re scouting and reporting.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” He finally asks, cocking his head to the side as you stop for a moment to catch your breath. He’s not winded at all, of course, and you’re starting to regret this choice, while also trying to avoid staring at him. Every time he moves into your line of sight, your palms sweat and you remember how his laugh sounded on the steps of your house, how he earnest he was when asking you questions. You remember the kiss, and the way his mouth felt upon yours. You remember it all, and butterflies take flight in your belly.

But being alone with him in a dangerous place such as this, is also a stark reminder. A reminder of the last time you were alone with the Spymaster, truly alone, and how it ended.

“There’s a cave a bit from here where a very rare crystal grows. Its mineral compound is a key piece to a specific elixir.” His lips twitch into a small, barely there smile, reading between the lines.

“You’ve brought me along for back up.” You smirk.

“You didn’t say what spending time together had to entail.” You shift your backpack. “It's just past this bog up ahead.” He stops short, eyes sharp, tensing.

“A bog?”

“Yes. You know… like a swamp?”

“Of Oorid?” You blink.

“You know the Bog of Oorid?”

“I’ve been there.” Now it’s your turn to scrutinize him. Could you have underestimated this male, again?

“Why?” You shiver. You’ve visited the Bog before, twice, and left each time with a new scar, a new nightmare.

“We were looking for something.” We? Questions brew in the back of your mind, so many of them they’re hard to contain, but you’d hate to appear too interested in him and his adventures.

“Did you find it?” He nods and says nothing. Fine then. “It’s not the Bog of Oorid, just a boring swamp. C’mon.”

You withhold a key piece of information regarding the swamp.

It’s quite hateful, if you’re honest, and a small part of you weeps at your own vindictiveness, but the vengeful side feels too smug, too satisfied.

“It’s this way.” You take the lead, stepping into the ankle-deep muck. “Sorry, you’ll have to get a bit dirty.” The trees here are warped, bent to the undertow of the swamp, stripped of their life, yet still thriving, flourishing in the inert, foul water. Wicked, and greedy, they creak and coo, relishing each cursed step Azriel takes. Your magic crests, drawing up through the Middle, and you smile to yourself as the mud reaches mid-calf. Right about now-

He hisses.

“Are you alright?” You call innocently over your shoulder, now paces away, reveling in the sound of him fighting against the sludge's hold. When he doesn’t answer, your heart quickens, and you turn.

He’s shaking his head, wings flared at his back, muscles flexing beneath his leathers, trying to work himself free, and you bite your tongue to keep from telling him it won't work.

The swamp is a collector, a keeper of things, admirer of the rare and unusual. You’re sure it’s never ensnared an Illyrian before.

“Careful,” you sing, “struggling makes it worse.” He’s knee deep but surprises you when he breaks a leg free and takes another step, cobalt blue siphons beginning to gleam, shining into the dark green stagnant water and pockets of mire. Interesting.

“Clever little witch.” He's amused, reverent, and you're irritated by his reaction. “How does it not trap you?” Keening echoes through your soul, frantic and tortured. It’s reaching for something, crying for something, steeped in a distress you don’t understand. An incessant tugging, the faint sound of a melody. A chiming of bells, ringing, and ringing, and ringing. You steady yourself with a deep breath.

“I ask it not to. My magic comes from the Middle, like my mother’s. It makes things... more amenable to me.” You make it sound far worse than it is to spook him, but he only watches you with interest, keen eyes dissecting you from the inside out.

“And will you ask it to release me?”

“Maybe.” You shrug. He sinks farther, now trapped to his mid-thigh, and your pulse races. You had planned to leave him here, trap him here until you came back, but your magic is clawing at you, heart trying to beat out of your chest, fear and panic colliding with an instinct buried so deep, it can’t be cut out or ignored, an instinct trying to push you into his arms, pleading with you to help him. It hurts, trying to fight it is like trying to swim against a current, your muscles screaming at the struggle, your power thrashing in your veins. The music is no longer a delicate, enchanting thing but a symphony flowing into a fortissimo, brass and strings and keys digging into your soul.

It's too much, your heart pounds in your ears, magic shredding your restraint.

It's too much, and you long to go to him.

Release him, you command the swamp, and it tightens its embrace, a lover clinging to another, refusing to relent.

Is this not for me?

No. He is mine. Release him. Now. You press onward, urging the swamp to relax, it’s reluctant acquiesce bringing you a relief so strong you have to hold yourself steady. It recedes, and the two of you stand face to face, chests heaving. You don’t understand what’s happening to you, what this war that rages in your magic, your heart, your entire being means.

He closes his eyes, the shadows receding, disappearing entirely as he takes a long, measured breath, his hand pressing against his ribs, still deep in the dredge of the fen.

"Are you alr-"

“Is there anything else I should be aware of, before we continue?” He cuts you off, the heat radiating from his body coming in waves, and you push against the pull.

“No.” You croak. He inclines his head.

“Very well. Lead the way.”

“Why don’t you winnow here?” You're seated on a rock outside the mouth of the cave. The trek itself is the most dangerous part of this task, and the crystal retrieval was uneventful. Boring, even, as you walked side by side with Azriel in silence, contemplating the unexpected amount of remorse over the swamp settling in your stomach like lead.

“I don’t winnow to most places in the Middle if I can help it.”

“No?”

“You never what will be waiting for you, or what you will discover, when you arrive.” You take a bite of your apple and sneak a glance at him. “You’re not angry. About the swamp.”

“No.” He’s preternaturally still, but rife with intensity, alight with an ache you can’t describe.

“Why?”

“I deserve far worse from you.” You say nothing, because what can you say? It’s true.

But if it’s true, why does it feel so awful?

You stand abruptly, eager to separate yourself from this situation, this confusion and confliction. “I should get these back.” Winnowing from the Middle, at least, is a perfectly safe option, and you’re eager for the escape now.

“Next week?” Your head is pounding, limbs twitching like your body has a will of its own, and suddenly you’re drained, magic and will quickly depleting. He steps closer, brows knitted together in concern. “Are you okay?” No.

“Y-yeah. I’m going to… I’m going to go.” He frowns.

“You look ill.”

“I’m just tired. The swamp takes it out of me.” You lie weakly with a halfhearted smile that lacks conviction, and before you can do something stupid like reach for him, you draw on your power, giving him one last look. “Next week.”

You’re at the Palace of Bone and Salt when it happens.

The market is packed to the brim, overflowing, most caught up in the approach of Winter Solstice. It’s still weeks out, but all are always eager to celebrate the city’s favorite holiday. Boughs of holly and evergreen, ribbons of red and green decorate the square, twinkling fae lights nestled high and low. You’re looking for bone marrow, but can’t help loitering by the chocolatier’s stall, his perfectly crafted confections artfully arranged in pyramids stretching far past your head. He catches your eye with a smile. “Would you like to try anything?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. They always look so lovely.” He pulls a pink chocolate swirl from the collection that’s caught your eye and holds it out to you.

“On the house then, for Solstice.”

“Thanks so-“ Your gratitude is stolen by a groan, one rattling upward from beneath your feet, the entire market rumbling so violently the stalls creak, their goods tipping to the side.

A quake.

They’re rare, but not unheard of. The mountains breathe, stretching and straining, the plates they’re built upon occasionally shifting and realigning, all of it causing Velaris’ foundation to shake. These things you know, but you’ve never experienced it firsthand, and you didn’t expect such… force.

The shopkeeper dives beneath his counter, others running in every direction through the market, panic and fear permeating the air. They’re looking for cover, afraid the second and third story buildings may come crashing down on their heads, while others try to outrun it, sprinting away as fast as they can manage.

It’s pandemonium. Everyone is being tossed around, marble and wood falling and rolling, and you’re frozen, rapidly trying to weigh the options, decide what to do when something catches your eye.

A child.

She’s standing in the middle of an aisle, screaming for her mum, and without hesitation, you snag her around the waist to tuck her into your chest, covering the back of her head as you curl into a ball and huddle beneath the counter of the first stall you see.

That’s where you stay, for the next ten minutes. Curved over this little girl who can’t be more than two, holding onto her as tight as you can to quell her screaming, trying to calm her. Things fall on you, something scrapes the side of your face, and it stings, but you don’t let go. You can’t.

You’re somewhere else in your mind. In the Middle as a child, running as fast as you can to the boundary, trying to get to safety as your mother howls. Claws scratch down your back, blackened, putrid magic tries to drag in the bowels of the forest, all while horrid shrieking and crying fills your head. The boundary is too far, and you fold yourself into a hollow, a damp, muddy nest inside the base of a tree where you hold your breath and sit really still, just like you were taught.

The quake ricochets around you, but the screeching in your ears is not from this time, this moment. It’s from then, you and this small child in your arms now the same, scared, alone, and crying for your mothers.

Even once the rumbling stops, you don’t move. Too afraid it will start again and you’ll be caught in the open, you wait. The sticky, festering sap of the memory clings to your synapses, refusing to let you go, embedding itself beneath your skull like it needs to live there, as if you could ever forget. There are moans from the injured, confusion and worry from those who took shelter, but multiple voices rise over the din of everyone else, giving instructions, looking for the wounded and those who need help immediately.

“- was right here, but she let go of my hand… there were too many-“ a frantic female’s voice echoes over through the market, and her terror is met by a kind, reassuring voice.

“We’ll find her.” The girl in your arms makes no attempt to free herself, still shivering in your hold, clinging to you with all her might, and you stay rooted to your spot.

There’s a brush of magic against your mind, a gentle caress that probes the dense sedge wall, and you push it away, opening your eyes to see a beautiful female crouched in front of you. “Hello.” The High Lady. The little girl finally moves, wriggling against you.

“Mara!” Her mother calls, rushing over and scooping her into her arms, sobbing. She looks her daughter over and then holds her tight before trying to approach you. “Thank you, thank you,” she’s reaching for your hand, trying to squeeze it in a manner of gratitude, of love, but you can’t move, still grappling with the noise ringing in your head. There’s more conversation, more of the High Lady’s voice, patient and gentle, and another’s, deeper, heavier.

“-shock, maybe?”

“-go get him,”

“Cassian-“ The second voice is enough to startle you back to yourself somewhat, and you carefully stretch your limbs, crawling out from under the counter and away from them, standing up on your own two feet. The High Lady holds her hand out as if you steady you. “Easy. You’re hurt.” Hurt? You instinctively touch your face, fingers coming back stained crimson. You need to get out of here, need to get as far away from all of this as you can. You’re still trying to right yourself, convince yourself you’re here, not there.

“Maybe you should sit down.” The other one, the big Illyrian who you met in this very place months ago, watches you with concern. You’re shaking, lungs expanding, searching for as much air as they can find, warm trickle of blood falling over your lips and down your chin. Pain registers slowly, no longer isolated to your face, but in your side too, and when you press your hand to your ribs, wet fabric squishes beneath it. More blood.

“Let's get you to a healer,” the High Lady tries, motioning to your head, your side, and when you don’t respond, she frowns, glancing at her companion. The wailing is finally quieting to a point where you can properly think, but words still won’t come, and she’s about to say something else when shadows swirl around the three of you, and Azriel drops from the sky.

Azriel. Your heart sings his name, and the double-edged sword cuts to the quick, opening you up to a strange spark in your chest.

He looks… awful. Insane, even. Wide eyes find you, his wings stretched into a defensive position, shadows spread around him in a dark cloud, and his fear is so palpable you swear you can feel it. All you can do is stare at him as he frantically takes you in, focus never wavering, even as he speaks to those at your side. “What happened?”

“We found her under here,” Cassian points to your hiding spot, “protecting a little girl. We think she’s in shock.”

“She needs a healer.” He grits, hands flexing and relaxing from flat palm into fist, repeatedly.

“We know.” The High Lady angles her body between you and the Shadowsinger. “Az,” her voice is serious, with an undercurrent of authority, “maybe you should back-“

“You need a healer.” He ignores her, and you shake your head. You need to get out of here, to get somewhere safe where you can try to rip out the rot of these memories still nipping at your heels.

“I need to go. Home, I need to go… home.” I need to go home? That’s the best you can come up with? Cassian snorts, and Azriel says your name, an edge of dominance cutting through the haze of your mind. The blood loss is making you woozy, and the ground is unsteady, continent turning over as you start to feel sluggish. Your vision grows blurry, and then there’s a hand on your cheek.

“Look at me, it's okay.” Azriel murmurs, and you try. You do. There’s something about his touch, the texture of his hands that soothes you, comforts you, but the world is falling away, and darkness is taking you, tugging you into the lull of sleep.

You curl your fingers into his shirt, a last-ditch effort at staying upright, at staying awake, looking up into a never-ending swirl of hazel, green moss and bright umber drenched in panic.

They’re the last thing you see before everything goes black and you slip under.

#peaches writes #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar

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moeitsu · 11 months ago

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Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Headcanons -`♡´-

This is my first time making head canons, and I wanted to keep them sweet and endearing since our boy has been through too much in his very-very long life. As someone who's read a majority of the X-Men comics, I hope you find these true to his character! Enjoy :)

(I got so carried away with this)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Logan may not say "I love you" often, but he shows it through small, constant touches—a hand on the back, a gentle squeeze of the shoulder, or simply holding hands.

Not a fan of explicit PDA, but will always touch you/stay close in public.

Tough exterior, but when it comes to his partner, he’s an overprotective softie. He’ll insist on walking them home, even if they can take care of themselves.

He can be extremely chivalrous too, always holding open the door for you.

Expresses his love through acts of service. He’ll fix things around the house without being asked, make breakfast before his partner wakes up, or leave a steaming cup of coffee on the counter with a note.

He's always leaving you little love notes if when leaves the house before you or knows he won't be home till late.

Though he pretends to hate it, Logan is a sucker for slow dancing in the kitchen at night, especially if it’s to an old blues or country song.

Any excuse to hold you close to him.

Logan values trust more than anything. Given how many times he’s been betrayed or manipulated, knowing someone trusts him, and that he can trust them in return, is what makes him feel truly loved and secure.

When sharing a bed, Logan always sleeps closest to the door—just in case someone comes through it. It’s a subconscious protective habit.

Always gets better rest with he's sleeping with his partner. The nightmares become less frequent when he's in their arms.

Heaven on earth is when you fall asleep on top of him. Your weight is extremely comforting.

He is incredibly careful with his strength, especially in intimate moments. He’s always conscious of not hurting his partner, and his gentleness with you is something he prides himself on.

I think it would take some convincing for him to be a rough with you. He's a dominant lover for sure, but he doesn't take pleasure in harming his partner.

Logan is an old soul and loves traditional romantic gestures—writing letters, giving flowers, and going for long walks. He may not be vocal about it, but his sincerity shines through.

Actually writes really beautiful poetry but NOBODY will ever read it. The words will die with him...if he ever dies.

God, I just know he is a secret romantic. This is so canon to me.

Tends to murmur endearments in his partner’s ear when they’re alone, things like "darlin’" or "sweetheart," in a tone so low and rough it gives them goosebumps.

Heavy on whispered praises in bed, so low its like he's speaking directly into your mind.

Never, ever forgets a birthday or an anniversary. This goes for all his friends.

Logan is the person everyone goes to when they need to spill their secrets. He never judges, just listens, and gives advice when it’s needed. His friends know their secrets are safe with him.

He's secretly a huge gossip and loves to hear about the young mutants drama. He'll act annoyed but he's listening to every word.

He may not be the most social, but he’s fiercely loyal to his friends. If they’re in trouble, he’s the first to show up, no questions asked.

Incredible memory for his friends’ favorite drinks. When they meet up at a bar, he’ll have everyone’s order ready before they even sit down.

Logan knows when someone needs to talk and when they just need company. He’s the type to sit quietly beside a friend, sharing a drink or a cigar, letting them know they’re not alone.

Perfectly content with sitting in companionable silence for hours.

He’s surprisingly good at cooking, and loves to feed his friends. It’s one of the few domestic things he takes pride in, and he finds peace in the routine of it.

Never breaks a promise, no matter how small. If he says he’ll do it, whether it’s fixing something for you or showing up for a drink, he does it.

Logan brings back small souvenirs from missions for his partner, whether it's a pretty rock he found in a river bed, a flower pressed into his notebook, or a feather tucked into his jacket.

It's his way of saying "I was thinking of you while I was away"

Has a shoebox full of old polaroid's of his long-gone friends. He rarely looks at them, but keeps them to feel connected to those he's lost.

Also writes letters to his dead friends and keeps them in the box as well. It helps him process his grief.

Loves the smell and feel of old books. He can often be found in second-hand bookstores (or Xavier's library), running his fingers over the spines and flipping through the pages just to take in the scent.

Old!Logan needs reading glasses but is too stubborn to admit it. He’ll wear them when he’s alone, grumbling about how small the print is getting these days.

Has a soft spot for classic cartoons like "Looney Tunes." If he’s flipping channels and catches one, he’ll stop and watch, chuckling at the slapstick humor.

Logan is not a morning person. He’s grumpy before his first cup of coffee, and everyone knows to give him space until he’s had it.

"I CAN'T GIRLBOSS WITHOUT MY COFFEE"

He is a creature of habit, and he always orders the same meal at his favorite diners—usually steak, eggs, and a black coffee. The waitstaff know his order by heart.

Logan has a way with animals, even the ones that are usually skittish or aggressive. It’s like they sense he’s one of them, and they naturally trust him.

Modern day disney princess lookin' ass

Logan pretends to hate puns, but deep down, he finds them hilarious. If someone cracks a particularly bad one, he’ll groan, but there’s always a hint of a smile on his face.

*cough cough* I'm looking at you Wade

Ridiculously competitive at board games. Especially Monopoly and Scrabble. He’ll argue over the rules and demand a rematch if he loses.

When Logan is working on something mechanical, like fixing a motorcycle or sharpening his claws, he has a habit of whistling old tunes from the 1940s.

Guilty pleasure for musicals.

I had to put that in I'm sorry...

Has a small collection of vintage lighters from all the places he’s traveled. He likes the look and feel of a good lighter in his hand.

Keeps a collection of old dog tags from the wars he’s fought in. He doesn’t wear them but keeps them as a reminder.

Also has a small but growing collection of "World’s Best" mugs—like "World’s Best Dad," "World’s Best Boss," etc. He picks them up when traveling.

He likes the irony of it, because he would never describe himself as the "World's Best" of anything.

Logan loves the sound of old vinyl records. He has a small collection of blues, jazz, and country albums that he listens to when he wants to unwind.

Secretly believes in superstitions. Like always knocking on wood or avoiding walking under ladders. He knows it’s irrational, but after living as long as he has, he figures it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Hopeless with modern technology. He’s constantly asking for help with his phone, and he’s convinced that A.I. is out to get him.

He’s also been known to tap the screen harder when it doesn’t work, as if that will fix the problem.

Despite everything he’s been through, Logan believes in giving people a second chance. He knows what it’s like to be lost, to make mistakes, and to want to start over. He’s patient with those who are trying to better themselves and is willing to help them find their way.

Logan is a natural born leader.

And he deserves a life full of peace, love, and happiness

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk!!

#james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #hugh jackman #logan howlett headcanon #logan xmen #xmen comics #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #marvel #deadpool

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makingsenseofwhathappened · 11 days ago

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Building a Support Network (when work gets messy)

Hello friends. Hello work week.

In the spirit of getting through, I wanted to start this Monday off by sharing a few quick thoughts about how to keep your head when something at work crosses a line (harassment, retaliation, just a gut-level this isn’t okay thing).

In my experience, it's easy to veer into full on self-protection mode. By either shutting down completely or oversharing too fast. That's normal, but trust me, it can backfire. One moment of panic or pressure can lock you into choices you didn’t actually want to make.

You need people who help you stay grounded and make decisions that are right for you, not reactive ones fuelled by fear or rage.

WARNING: I have a feeling this one might be a longer post than usual, but I think (I hope) it’s worth it!

Assess Your Workplace First: Before you confide in anyone or take action, pause. Does this place protect its people or protect itself? Have others been supported, or quietly pushed out? Taking the pulse will help you gauge how careful you need to be, and what kind of support makes sense.

Go slow with coworkers: Even the ones who seem safe and the ones who “get it” If you share too soon, you risk gossip, misinterpretation, or triggering a formal response before you’re ready. You deserve time to process and decide what you want to do.

Pay attention to who isn’t helpful: If someone dismisses it, changes the subject, or says “Are you sure it was that bad?” that may seem neutral, but I'd say it's a red flag. You’re not wrong to notice who makes you feel smaller.

Try trained support: Hotlines and harassment-specific services exist for moments like this, not just worst case scenarios. You don’t need a full story, just a place to think out loud with someone who won’t judge, push, or oversimplify.

Friends & family aren’t always it: Sometimes the people closest to you don’t know how to help. Start with someone who truly listens - who doesn’t immediately problem-solve, give ultimatums, or make it about themselves. Your needs have to come first here.

Look for survivor spaces: Online communities. like subreddits, Discords, private groups, can help you feel less alone. But a lot of advice is U.S.-based. If you’re in Canada, double-check legal guidance locally before taking steps at work.

Build a layered team: A steady friend, a trained listener, a survivor community. Each offers something different, and together they give you options and a feeling of control when things feel chaotic.

Rule of Thumb: Caution is wise and boundaries are healthy. Taking your time doesn’t make you weak. it makes you smart. And if you can find even one person who helps you feel clear, grounded, and believed, that’s a solid start. The rest? You get to choose.

TL;DR = Partly covered in this nice article.

And a really solid Canadian-based Reddit for support with workplace sexual harassment.

Take care & much love 🥰

#go slow #think it through #find your people #know your worth #workplace harassmen #aftermetoo

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midnite-c6 · 6 months ago

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i have so many different au ideas with namgyu and thanos

imagine frontman!namgyu and thanos (imagine there can be two) and timid!reader (who won a game before but wanted to stop it like Gi-hun)

frontman!namgyu and thanos who joins the game again to see their timid!reader, seeing how you’re just as shy as you were when you first played.

frontman!namgyu and thanos know you can protect yourself but they can’t help but be protective especially after seeing how shy you still are

ong the manipulation AND the mocking. foaming at the mouth, drooling. offtopic: 001 was hot asf, but this aint abt him.

frontman!thanos & nam-gyu x timid!reader imagine!! warnings: 18+, DARK content, noncon, sa, manipulation (please read at ur own risk guys D: !!!!)

god they were definitely laughing to themselves to see you try again in stopping their games, i mean, who tf r u anyway, but damn were you so cute for trying. like.. watching you last time, neither of them expected you to win, but theyre def pleased you did! and now that you joined again.. they decided to play with you and your feelings! omg you'll be saying your masterplan and they'd nod so sweetly like they trust you with all their heart :< & when you tell them to vote X, they vote X! you just can't help but be grateful since the two "sweetest" boys who seem pretty strong are on your team, (they're not, but they're definitely tag-teaming you)

ohhh you're so glad that there were truly good people in the world, or you were just too naive..and dumb.. so dumb for trusting them, trusting them SO much to let them give you one last sweet goodbye before fighting the guards during lights out..

nam-gyu wraps his arms around your waist securely, nuzzling against the crook of your neck, your back tightly pressed against his chest. thanos is on watch duty since you suggested that one person should always stay awake during lights out, they cleverly figured that one of them should keep you eeeeextra safe, and who are you to really decline the offer?

nsfw below!!-> (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠).

his warm breath tickles the exposed skin of your neck. he had always been the more 'physical' one from the two, he loves to just touch you everywhere, and you let him, i mean he's just so caring, and his past is so tragic you can't help but feel bad :<. his hand moves from your waist to your stomach, before going higher to lightly graze your chest. you squirm underneath his touch, lightly moving his hand, thinking it wasn't intentional. a few minutes later,, he'd move his hand again, this time underneath your shirt, lightly squeezing your chest, making you go wide awake! "nam-gyu.." "yeah?.." he whispers sleepily, "..i can't sleep, miss." he'd continue to tease your nipples, making them harden by his rough fingers :< "w..why are you touching me there?" you whispered so purely, you're gonna be the death of him, he hums, "why..? do you want me to touch you somewhere else?" you couldn't help but whine from the painful feeling, "n-nam-gyu.." he shushes you, "it's okay.. i'm gonna miss you. once we defeat whoever's behind these games, we might not see eachother again.." his hand quickly moved underneath your pants, slipping easily past the waistband of your panties, "but.. w.. we'll definitely see eachother again.." he groans "do you not want this?" "u-uhm.." you can't reply, distracted by his pointer finger hastily tickling your sensitive bud or how your skin feels warmer and warmer by his hot breath touching your skin everytime he exhales. "i just want to thank you, for guiding us, keeping everyone alive y'know?" you still couldn't reply. "its like..." his lips brush your skin, "..you are an angel sent from above." how could you decline??

"time's up bro- oh, shit, you actually did it." thanos looked in awe, but he'd quickly pull at player 124's jacket and take him away off of you, "fuck you." nam-gyu only replied as thanos takes his spot. he'd make you face him, seeing a "betrayed" look on your face. "oh what's wrong, baby..?" he pouted, a hand gently cupping your face. you'd stare right into his blue eyes. "don't.. don't worry, we're just both scared, like you.." you furrow your brows, what does he mean?? "i mean.. there's a chance we die tomorrow.. baby, i'll forever forget not getting a taste of you, you understand, right?" you nodded, only because you were being nice, not because you understood. he smiled.

"this'll be fast, angel." you were such an angel. really.

sorry i love nam-gyu somuch guys sorrh GETTING THRU MY DRAFTS ONE BY ONE!! WOOO!! thanos x namgyusgf!reader next!! :^

#squid game #squid game 2 #player 124 #nam-gyu #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #nam gyu #thanos #thanos smut #thanos x reader #choi su bong #player 230

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xjulixred45x · 2 months ago

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For me while reading the au I imagined yuu to be abt 17-19 like most of the boys so I was wondering what you think the boys reactions (or at least the Housewarden + Jamil) would think/react to finding out Yuu is pregnant!

TW: Sensitive topics (implied)

Honestly, at first, most people are a little worried about Yuu, mostly about whether the baby is unwanted or not (or how the baby was conceived...) and they want to be 100% sure that Yuu truly wants to be a mother so young above all else, that it's HER decision and no one else's.

If Yuu comes from a bad background, the dorm leaders will act as support for her and try to be safe spaces in their own way. The same goes for the first-years.

Riddle continues to act protectively toward Yuu, but at the same time he demands academically (without going overboard, obviously; he's much softer with Yuu than with the other Heartsabyul students), precisely because he believes that if Yuu is going to have a baby, he has to give it a good future from a young age. The further along the pregnancy progresses, the more anxious he becomes and the less strict he is. He definitely doesn't take lightly the harassment/bullying Yuu might receive for being a teenage mother; any transgression of that kind gets immediately a "Off with your head!"

When the baby is born, Riddle probably personally talks to the teachers about getting Yuu off homework for a couple of weeks. He has two doctor parents, and he KNOWS the effects of giving birth. He's still tense about baby Sheila (as I decided to name the baby) but isn't opposed to keeping an eye on her so Yuu can study properly. Riddle is definitely the type of person who talks to babies like adults; it's funny (Cater has the Riddle and Sheila "conversations" on video for everyone's enjoyment).

Leona is worried, even if he doesn't show it. Did you see when she meets Yuu in the greenhouse? He probably realized she was pregnant at that moment and left right away. He may be an idiot, but not an jackass. After the events of Book 3, he probably has Ruggie or Jack check in on Yuu from time to time (either by helping her with homework, bringing her snacks, or something like that).

Leona isn't one to pry into Yuu's personal life, and if she continues with the pregnancy, it's because she wants the baby. He respects that, so, surprisingly, he can get quite defensive of Yuu (in the "only I can make fun of them (affectionately)" kind of way), even when Sheila is born—or rather, ESPECIALLY when Sheila is born. He'll definitely criticize Yuu more for being impulsive now that she's a mother. Shouldn't he be thinking more about her daughter? Gosh…

Azul would feel a little bad about trying to take a dorm away from a pregnant teenager, yes, but at least he's not heartless enough to not give her another option. He doesn't ask questions about the baby, but he makes certain assumptions based on what Yuu tells him and builds a mental picture from there (both good and bad). It takes him a ridiculous amount of time to convince Yuu to eat at Monstre Louge (for free) as her pregnancy progresses.

When Sheila is born healthy and Yuu recovers well, Azul is quite relieved (he was definitely very stressed seeing the mortality rate of teenage pregnancies in humans), and on more than one occasion he offers to let Yuu study in the VIP lounge while Floyd and Jade take care of Shayla (or "mini Shrimpy"), of course, constantly checking that everything is okay, he wouldn't trust a baby to the twins for too long either...

Kalim doesn't really treat Yuu any differently if she were an adult or if she were his age. He continues to bring the baby a ton of gifts, gives advice that helped his mother when she was pregnant, and continues to offer help at Ramshackle if she needs it. The only difference is that he also offers to form a study group so that Yuu doesn't miss any classes once she starts missing due to her advanced pregnancy.

Jamil, on the other hand, is a bit more cautious. He's more aware that in this scenario, Yuu might not have wanted the baby at such a young age, so he's quite surprised to see her excitement about becoming a mother; it's almost contagious. Along with Riddle, he's the one who offers to prepare bentos or nutritious meals for the pregnancy, and he also tries to prevent Kalim from overdoing it with gifts or things that might harm Yuu/the baby.

Vil is mostly shocked when he realizes Yuu is pregnant, but he doesn't comment on it; he's unusually reserved around her, actually. The truth is that Vil, on the one hand, doesn't understand why Yuu would want to be a mother so young, while on the other hand, he admires that she still wants to continue her studies, being perseverant and enjoying the things that make her happy. He respects her greatly.

When Sheila is eventually born, it's a MUST that the members of Pomefiore take care of her. She ends up with several new onesies, a tiara, three plushies, among many other things, just for being adorable. Meanwhile, Yuu gets a skincare routine for the first time in weeks, much to Vil's delight.

Idia doesn't interact differently with Yuu if she's an adult or a teenager. He still believes he's going to ruin the baby somehow because "that's just how he is," but he's willing to help her with things like ultrasound equipment, medicine, using Ortho to check on the baby, etc. He was definitely super scared when he heard the screams on ramshackle. He genuinely thought Yuu was going to die and almost fainted from relief when they told him she and Sheila were okay.

Would Malleus even notice the difference between a teenage Yuu and an adult Yuu? Regardless, Malleus is protective of his pregnant daughter of men, no matter how old she is. He'll view any sudden or unwanted approach as a potential threat. Want to take Yuu by surprise? BOOM! Electrocuted. Want to touch Yuu's pregnant belly without asking? Electrocuted! Want to wake Yuu up after a sleepless night of kicking? Guess what happens :)

Malleus is extremely careful with Sheila once she's born. He holds her with both hands and looks her in the eyes VERY DIRECTLY while talking about the same topics he used to talk about while she was still in the womb, as if resuming a conversation.

In general, they're a little more cautious about the subject, but just as encouraging and supportive.

___________

(ESPAÑOL)

TW: temas sensibles (implícito)

Sinceramente, al principio la mayoría se preocupa un poco por Yuu, mas que nada por si el bebe es deseado o no (o como fue que el bebe fue concebido…) y querrían asegurarse al cien por ciento de que Yuu realmente quiera ser madre tan joven por encima de todo, que sea decisión de ELLA y de nadie más.

Si Yuu viene de un mal entorno, los líderes de dormitorio actuaran como soporte para ella y trataran de ser espacios seguros a sus maneras. Lo mismo con los de primer año.

Riddle sigue actuando de forma protectora con Yuu, pero al mismo tiempo le exige en el ámbito académico (sin sobrepasarse obviamente, es mucho más blando con Yuu que con los otros estudiantes de Heartsabyul), justamente porque cree que, si Yuu va a tener un bebe, tiene que darle un buen futuro desde joven. Mientras más avanza el embarazo, mas ansioso se vuelve y menos estricto es. Definitivamente no se toma a la ligera el acoso/Bullying que Yuu podría llegar a recibir por ser madre adolecente, cualquier transgresión de ese estilo es fuera con sus cabezas en el acto.

Cuando el bebe nace, Riddle probablemente habla personalmente con los profesores para que Yuu sea exenta de tarea durante un par de semanas, el tiene dos padres médicos, SABE los efectos de dar a luz. Sigue siendo tenso con la beba Sheila (como decidí ponerle a la beba) pero no se opone a vigilarla para que Yuu pueda estudiar adecuadamente. Riddle definitivamente es el tipo de persona que le habla a los bebes como adultos, es gracioso (Cater tiene las “conversaciones” de Riddle y Sheila en video para el disfrute de todos).

Leona esta preocupado, aun si no lo demuestra ¿viste cuando conoce a Yuu en el invernadero? Probablemente se dio cuenta en ese momento que estaba embarazada y directamente se fue, será un idiota, pero no un imbécil. Después de los eventos del libro 3, probablemente hace que Ruggie o Jack chequen a Yuu de vez en cuando (ya sea ayudándole con la tarea, trayéndole snacks, cosas por el estilo).

Leona no es de indagar en la vida personal de Yuu, y si ella continua con el embarazo es porque ella quiere al bebe, el respeta eso, por lo mismo, sorprendentemente, puede ponerse bastante a la defensiva de Yuu (del tipo “solo yo puedo burlarme de ellos (afectuosamente)”), incluso cuando Sheila nace, o mejor dicho, ESPECIALMENTE cuando Sheila nace. Definitivamente criticara más a Yuu por ser impulsiva ahora que es madre ¿no debería pensar más en su hija? Cielos…

Azul se sentiría un poco mal de intentar quitarle el dormitorio a una adolecente embaraza, sí, pero al menos no es lo suficientemente desalmado como para no darle otra opción de domicilio. El no hace preguntas con respecto al bebe, pero hace ciertas conjeturas basadas en lo que Yuu le llega a contar y se arma una imagen mental a partir de ahí (tanto para bien como para mal). Le toma una estúpida cantidad de tiempo convencer a Yuu de comer en el Monstre Louge (gratis) cuando su embarazo avanza.

Cuando Sheila nace sana y Yuu se recupera bien, Azul está bastante aliviado (definitivamente estuvo muy estresado al ver la tasa de mortalidad de embarazos adolescentes en humanos), y en más de una ocasión ofrece que Yuu estudie en la sala VIP mientras que Floyd y Jade cuidan de Shayla (o “mini Shrimpy”) claro, checando que todo este bien constantemente, el tampoco confiaría un bebe demasiado tiempo a los gemelos…

Kalim realmente no trata de forma diferente a Yuu si es que fuera una adulta o si fuera de su edad, le sigue trayendo un monton de regalos al bebe, da consejos que le ayudaron a su mama cuando estuvo embarazada, le sigue ofreciendo ayuda en Ramshackle si es que la necesita, la única diferencia es que tambien ofrece hacer un grupo de estudio para que Yuu no se pierda de ninguna clase una vez que ella empieza a faltar debido al embarazo avanzado.

Jamil, por otro lado, es un poco más cuidadoso, es más consciente de que en este escenario Yuu podría no haber querido al bebe siendo tan joven, por lo que se sorprende bastante al ver la emoción que tiene al ser madre, es casi contagioso. Junto a Riddle, es quien ofrece preparar bentos o comidas nutritivas para el embarazo, también trata de evitar que Kalim se exceda con los regalos o las cosas que puedan dañar a Yuu/El bebe.

Vil esta principalmente shockeado cuando se da cuenta de que Yuu está embarazada, pero no comenta al respecto, esta inusualmente reservado cuando está cerca de ella en realidad. La verdad es que Vil por una parte no entiende porque Yuu querría ser madre tan joven, mientras que por otro lado admira que aun así quiera continuar con los estudios, siendo perseverante y disfrutando las cosas que la hacen feliz, la respeta mucho.

Cuando eventualmente Sheila nace, es una NECESIDAD que los miembros de Pomefiore la cuiden, termina con varios onesies nuevos, una tiara, tres peluches, entre muchas cosas más, solo por ser adorable. Mientras tanto Yuu se hace una rutina de cuidado de la piel por primera vez en semanas, para la alegría de Vil.

Idia no interactúa de forma diferente con Yuu si es adulta o adolecente, sigue creyendo que va a arruinar a su bebe de alguna forma porque “él es así”, pero está dispuesto a ayudarla con cosas como equipo para el ultrasonido, medicinas, usar a Ortho para checar al bebe, etc. Definitivamente estaba super asustado cuando escucho los gritos en ramshackle, pensó genuinamente que Yuu iba a morir y casi se desmaya del alivio cuando le dijeron que ella y Sheila estaban bien.

¿Malleus siquiera notaria la diferencia si es una Yuu adolecente o una Yuu adulta? Indiferentemente de eso, Malleus es protector con su hija de hombre embarazada, no importa la edad que tenga, tomara cualquier acercamiento repentino o indeseado como una posible amenaza ¿quieres tomar por sorpresa a Yuu? BOOM electrocutado ¿quieres tocar la panza de embarazada de Yuu sin pedir permiso? ¡electrocutado! ¿quieres despertar a Yuu despues de una noche de insomnio por culpa de las pataditas? Adivina que pasa 

Malleus es super cuidadoso con Sheila una vez que nace, la sostiene con ambas manos y le mira a los ojos MUY FIJAMENTE mientras le habla de los temas que solia hablar cuando estaba en la panza, como si estuviera retomando una conversación.

En general, son un poco mas cuidadosos con el tema, pero igual de alentadores y solidarios.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

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honestsunmoon · 8 days ago

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HI AGAIN !! This time, I want a Shadow milk cookie x baby reader platonic, but like he raised them even before he got corrupted, and he's not using them but keeping their innocent mind as they got some sort of cursed they they can very much grow up. And I want Candy Apple and Black Sapphire cookie as their brother/sister figure and they also adore them !!

😼

'the light he held onto'

Shadow milk cookie + baby!reader

(ft.candyApple cookie and

Black Sapphire cookie)

---

Long before his form turned dark and shadows dripped from his frame like syrup, Shadow Milk Cookie had been a gentle, quiet guardian.

Back then, his cloak was crisp, his boots steady, and his presence more soothing than ominous. He wasn't born of darkness—he had only embraced it to protect what truly mattered.

You.

You, the little Cookie with bright frosting eyes and stubby sugar-dough fingers. You, who came into his life wrapped in a soft caramel blanket, asleep and cursed.

The curse was a cruel one: you would grow—but ever so slowly. Decades might pass, and you’d still be barely older than a toddling baby Cookie, still speaking in babbles and giggles. But your heart… your heart was so bright it hurt. Bright enough to burn through the curse’s gloom.

Shadow Milk Cookie had found you abandoned by a crumbled shrine, runes cracked and warding spells faintly buzzing. The moment he picked you up and your tiny fingers curled around his, something in him changed.

And then the years came.

Even after his descent into shadow, when bitterness and fury gnawed at his soul, you remained untouched. You would reach for his hand with sticky fingers, laughing, clinging to his tattered cloak with blind trust—and he would kneel, let you braid his hair with flowers, let you rest curled up beside his side at night. His corruption never reached you. He wouldn’t let it.

He couldn’t.

> “You are… my last light,” he once whispered, when you fell asleep under the branches of a cursed tree. “Even if I am lost… I will never let them touch you.”

---

It was Candy Apple Cookie who visited next. Whimsical, sharp-tongued, and always balancing a glimmer of mischief with care. She was the one who brought you sweet-sour candies and scarves shaped like fruit slices.

> “You’re too soft on them,” she teased, nudging Shadow Milk’s side while you tried to balance a candy apple on your head. “You let them climb on you like you’re some playground.”

> “Let them,” he murmured. “They are… safe.”

And Black Sapphire Cookie—quiet, graceful, eyes deep like the night. He became your silent protector too. He never said much, but always carved little crystal figures for you. A tiny dragon. A bunny. A little version of Shadow Milk himself.

You would squeal with delight every time he arrived, crawling up to him with your arms out. And for you alone, he smiled.

---

Years passed.

You still looked like a baby Cookie, but your soul grew—aware of your family, your protectors. You weren’t clueless. You saw how Shadow Milk Cookie’s form darkened further each season. How Candy Apple’s voice turned sadder when she thought you weren’t listening. How Black Sapphire’s eyes lingered on the horizon longer each day, watching for dangers none of them dared mention aloud.

But they stayed. For you.

Your curse may slow your growth, but it didn’t slow your heart. You loved them fiercely. You made them laugh. You gave them hope.

One night, you woke up to Shadow Milk Cookie humming—something he hadn’t done in years. You crawled over, climbing into his lap, curling there like you always did.

> “You’re getting heavier,” he said softly, a ghost of amusement in his voice.

> “Me growin’,” you mumbled sleepily, resting your head on his chest.

His arms wrapped around you tightly. And for a long moment, the shadows around him stilled.

> “Good,” he whispered. “Grow… free. Even if I must hold back the world myself… you will have your tomorrow.”

---

And with Candy Apple draping a blanket over both of you, and Black Sapphire quietly standing guard at the mouth of the cave, the cursed child slept peacefully…

Surrounded by cookies who were no longer just protectors—but a family who would never let the darkness take you.

---

#cookie run kingdom x reader #candy apple cookie #black sapphire cookie #shadow milk cookie #strictly platonic #child reader #just fluff.

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makeitmingi · 24 days ago

Text

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 24]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

[A/N: there are two (?) time skips in this chapter so I hope it's not too confusing...]

"Would you prefer to go upstairs and talk?" You asked him before he could start. You were not expecting Hongjoong to have planned to tell you anything at the end of the date.

"No, it's fine. It would be better to talk here if you're okay with it. If we go upstairs, you're too nice and won't tell me to leave even if you want me to." He admitted. Even though you felt nervous about what Hongjoong was going to say, you were touched that he obviously was putting you first.

"Okay." You nodded. He drove to the side and put the car in park, not wanting to block any incoming cars.

"I don't really know where and how to start." He let out a soft sigh, reaching up to pinch his nose bridge as he closed his eyes.

"Hongjoong, you don't have to. If it's too quick-"

"No. I have to, I want to. You need to know... Sharing this with you is me proving to you how serious I am about you." Hongjoong cut you off, frowning with determination.

"My brothers and I... We are the owners and CEOs of AURORA Corp. It's a company, we have extensions in all industries." He said.

"That's why there was a charity gala?" You asked. He nodded in confirmation. You weren't going to tell him you searched him up before.

"That's our day job or as Seonghwa would call it, it's our cover up job. Not that AURORA Corp is fake or not real. It's very much real but it's not our main job." He explained.

"Okay." You nodded.

"We are a corporation in the... underworld. It's called Ateez or ATZ for short. I know that you've probably had suspicions about it before but I am confirming that it is true. Ateez runs more lucrative underground businesses like imports, exports, all that." He revealed.

So your assumptions were right. They were involved in illegal things. You knew from the moment Hongjoong beat that guy up outside the club and how Seonghwa stepped in.

"So, you and the others run illegal businesses too." You clarified.

"Yes. The clubs and casinos are legal, just under a different name. But of course, there are other parts of business that are... not legal."

"Can I ask why?" You turned to him, finally meeting his eyes. Hongjoong didn't expect you to ask that. Frankly, he didn't know what to expect at all.

"It's just how Seonghwa and I started. I don't know if there'll ever truly be an honest answer as to why we started this." He replied.

"Thank you for being honest." You said softly.

"Of course. I want to be as honest as I can but at the same time, I know it is overwhelming. I wanted to start somewhere, you can ask me anything you want." He insisted.

"I... I feel like I have a thousand questions but I can't seem to verbalise them." You confessed.

"That's okay. It's okay to admit that you're scared too. But (y/n), I promise I'll never hurt you. The boys and I will never hurt you. We may do things outside, things that are horrible and bad but we will never ever hurt you. We'll always protect you, I'll always keep you safe." He promised.

"I know, a part of me trusts that you won't hurt me. None of you will." You offered him a small smile. At your words, Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief.

"So that's why you had to act like you didn't know me at the tracks?" You brought up.

"Yes. I was trying to protect you. If you were seen with us, it could compromise your safety." Hongjoong explained.

"Then why tell me all this now?" You asked.

"Because I am serious about you. I tried to keep away and it was torture to me. Having to ignore or avoid you when I was injured. It hurt me and it hurt me even more to know that I hurt you."

"But yes, we take part in street races. It's all business stuff. Illegal, yes. But business." He continued.

"So, now that I know. What happens now?" You chewed on your bottom lip. There were so many emotions running through you.

"Whatever you want. I just didn't want to hide it from you anymore. We can act like how we've always been, nothing has to change." He shook his head.

"The boys are aware that I am sharing this with you. Because it's not just me, I am sharing a big part of their lives with you too. But rest assured you will not be involved in any activities of AURORA Corp and Ateez, I can promise you that." He said seriously.

"Okay." You let out a long, shaky sigh. Hongjoong could tell you still had questions that you were hesitating to ask.

"(y/n), I'm still me. You know me. What I do for work doesn't change the person that I am with you." He said, his tone more solemn now.

"Do I really know you then?" You couldn't help but let that slip out.

"You don't have to ask or say anything now. I know it's a lot. You can always ask me questions another time." He said. He wanted to reach out to hold your hand but he was afraid you would pull away.

"Thank you. Goodnight, Hongjoong." That was all you could say.

"Goodnight, (y/n)." He replied, watching you get out of the car and brisk walk to the lift lobby.

As you closed your front door, you leaned your back against it, sliding down and eventually just sitting on the ground in your doorway. Your heart and mind were racing.

"How many people have you murdered?"

That was what you wanted to ask Hongjoong. No doubt, deep down you knew that he has murdered but did he know how many?

You didn't understand why that was the first question your brain could come up with. Did it really matter how many people he has killed before? You should have expected this, you were the one that wanted him to share more about his life and who he was. And this is the truth about him.

It dawned on you, was this why Mrs Kim and him had a bad relationship? Because she disapproved of Hongjoong being a part of the mafia and doing illegal activities?

"It's okay to admit that you're scared too."

You knew you should be scared but you weren't. You were just lost and confused with your feelings and what to do.

"The moral dilemma..." You sighed, finally pulling yourself to stand up and actually head into your house. You dropped your bag and went to take a shower.

"Because I am serious about you. I tried to keep away and it was torture to me. Having to ignore or avoid you when I was injured. It hurt me and it hurt me even more to know that I hurt you."

Hongjoong was serious about you and as much as you were confused, you were serious about him too.

"What should I do?" You said out loud, leaning against the shower wall.

The most obvious thing to do would be to not see Hongjoong or any of the boys anymore and distance yourself from them, you shouldn't be associating yourself with them. But not seeing Hongjoong anymore, you couldn't fathom such a thought.

Even not giving Seonghwa kombucha or seeing Jongho read in the garden or watching Mingi trip over things or Wooyoung yell and excitedly run to the door every time you arrived.

Or Yeosang jogging around the perimeter of the backyard while you worked or Yunho leaning over you with his tall frame or San always giving you cookies.

Without realising, even the rest had become a part of your surroundings. It was hard to imagine them doing what they do.

"This is too much." You rubbed your face with your hands and finally got out of the shower.

You haven't been able to check your work emails the whole day so you decided to use it to distract yourself, sitting at your table with a cup of hot tea beside you, to reply to them.

Admittedly, after the gala, you have been getting more events requests, which is good for business and brings in money.

'(y/n)! (y/n)! - Eve'

'Yes? What's going on? - (y/n)'

'You have been MIA! What's going on with you? - Nana'

'Have I? I guess I have been busier than I thought... But it's all good! I've just been working and stuff. - (y/n)'

'Wanna go for drinks tomorrow? - Nana'

'Oooh yes yes! - Eve'

You sighed, as much as you wanted to, you knew this wasn't something you could talk to your friends about. They may know Hongjoong and the others from the tracks, they even bumped into him at the shop, but this wasn't something that you could tell them. This was something you would have to figure out on your own.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"What is it?" Hongjoong groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Hyung, we need to go. Seonghwa hyung's at the docks, there's a problem." Mingi came in with a serious look on his face. Hongjoong didn't question further, grabbing his jacket.

"One day, I skip work and all these issues come up." He grumbled as he followed Mingi downstairs.

"Here, hyung. I assume you're not armed." Wooyoung tossed Hongjoong a gun before climbing onto his bike.

"Seonghwa hyung didn't know if you were back yet, that's why he sent the correspondence to us. But I thought since you were already home..." Mingi reasoned as he drove.

"Don't worry about it, Mingi. It's good that you called me." Hongjoong said, knowing what his concerns were.

"So, what's the problem?" Hongjoong asked.

"Some territorial clash over shipments and Seonghwa hyung was caught in a crossfire. He could have handled it if it was just a dispute but there was an undercover that got caught in the middle. He can't get out." Mingi informed.

"Shit..." Hongjoong cursed. They don't get involved in police killings, it goes against their agenda of supporting the police commissioner and it draws too much attention to them.

As Mingi drove, Hongjoong stared at the handgun in his lap. Was he ready to possibly bring you into this?

"Hyung, we're arriving. Are you ready?" Mingi asked, breaking Hongjoong's train of thought.

"Yeah, I am." Hongjoong nodded. Now was not the time to hesitate and be distracted, Seonghwa needed them and he needed to step up at the captain.

"Hongjoong ah, are you alright?" Seonghwa asked as Hongjoong slumped to the ground, absolutely exhausted.

"Yeah." He panted, the gun dropping out of his hand as he sat down, learning his head back against one of the metal containers.

"Shit." Seonghwa held onto his side, coughing in pain from how someone swung a bat at him. Hongjoong grunted, helping an unconscious Wooyoung, letting the younger put his head on his lap.

"Hyungs!" More cars pulled up and San ran out.

"Here, take him to the doctor's, he's got a head wound but no blood. And Mingi went to deal with the docks handler..." Hongjoong informed, lifting Wooyoung up as much as he could so San could carry the smaller male in his arms. Jongho waved his hand and the men came rushing forward.

"I'll go look for Mingi hyung. You guys head home first. One of you, take Wooyoung hyung's bike." Jongho said. The men escorted the two oldest to the vans while another took Wooyoung's bike.

"Call us if you need anything." Seonghwa told the maknae as he sat in the van, groaning as he shifted to a comfortable position.

"Yes, hyung." Jongho nodded and walked away in the direction Mingi went to.

"Sorry for disrupting your date." Seonghwa said as he and Hongjoong sat in the back of the van while one of their men drove thme home. Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head.

"You didn't. I was home, Mingi came to get me." Hongjoong replied.

"What happened?" Seonghwa asked. Hongjoong shrugged but offered no reply.

"You told her... didn't you?" He knew Hongjoong all too well. Despite the dim lighting in the car, Seonghwa could see Hongjoong give a firm nod.

"I just... I just have to give her time. There's nothing more I can do." Hongjoong let out a soft sigh of defeat.

"That's right. But I know it'll be okay, Joong." It hurt his ribs but Seonghwa managed to raised his arm to place it on Hongjoong's shoulder. Hongjoong sent his friend a grateful smile, placing his own hand on top of Seonghwa's.

"Boss-nims, Boss San would like to relay that he will be bringing Boss Wooyoung to the hospital to treat his head injury as the home doctor is not equipped." The man in the passenger seat informed.

"Sure. Send two men there to guard them." Hongjoong commanded.

"Yes, boss." The male replied. Once the driver pulled up to the driveway, Yeosang and Yunho were there.

"Hyungs!" The two slid the door open. Yunho took Seonghwa while Yeosang helped Hongjoong into the house where they had the doctor on standby already.

"Send the doctor to Seonghwa first. He's worse than me." Hongjoong said as Yeosang set him down on the couch.

They didn't know that for sure but even if Hongjoong was in a worse state, he would always let the others go before him to get checked.

"Alright, the doctor can help us. Yunho, call Jongho to see if he got Mingi. Yeosang, call San to get a status check on Wooyoung." Hongjoong ordered.

"Yes, hyung." The two stepped aside, taking their phones out to contact their respective brothers. Hongjoong settled further against the couch cushions, closing his eyes as he tried not to think about the ache that was starting the settle in his bones. Seonghwa grunted in pain as the doctor checked on him.

But the sounds of Seonghwa's groans with Yunho and Yeosang talking on the phone soon grew distant as Hongjoong closed his eyes and was engulfed in darkness.

"Hwa hyung, he's gonna kill us when he finds out."

"I think he's waking up."

"Shut up. Don't say anything."

Hongjoong frowned slightly as he was interrupted by talking. It took him a while to open his eyes, squinting slightly at the offensive bright light that was hurting his eyes.

"Mingi, turn down the lights." He heard Seonghwa's voice and soon, the lights above his head dimmed.

"Hongjoong. Can you hear me? Can you see me?" He groaned and turned his head, finally seeing Seonghwa's face come into view.

"Yes... I can hear all of you." Hongjoong clenched his jaw in the pain that radiated down his neck to the rest of his body. It felt like he was run over by a bus.

"You're in the hospital. You passed out and would not wake up, you apparently sustained a head injury like Wooyoung." Seonghwa informed. Hongjoong blinked with a hum, listening and processing his best friend's words. He didn't like the hospital, when was the last time he was in one?

Oh, when he was viewing his mom's body when she passed. That was the last time he was in a hospital.

"Help me up." He said. Yunho was beside him, pressing the buttons to adjust the bed so he was in an elevated position. But he couldn't sit up, his head was pounding.

"Stop, stop. I can't sit up." He winced and Yunho lowered the bed slightly.

"Here." Seonghwa gave him a cup of water with a straw. Once his throat felt more hydrated, he could speak properly.

"I'll go get the doctor." Yunho said and excused himself. Seonghwa sat down, reminding Hongjoong that he, too, was still injured.

"Sit, Hwa. You're still injured. How long was I out?" Hongjoong asked. He didn't remember what happened, he remembered being comfortable on the couch then nothing.

"Two days. Even Wooyoung's up and about already. Doctor said he got a minor concussion but he's fine." Seonghwa replied.

"That's good. And what did you guys do? Someone said I'm going to kill you guys." that was the first thing he asked. Seonghwa sent Mingi a glare while the taller just looked away. Yeosang busied himself with his phone. Hongjoong sent the two an odd look.

"What did you do-"

"Hongjoong?!" Hongjoong's eyes widened when you burst through the doors. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating from his head injury.

"(y/n)! W-What are you doing here?" Hongjoong asked. But you stormed over, throwing your arms over his shoulders to hug him.

"Y-You scared me." You whispered.

"I'm fine, (y/n). Don't worry. It's just a small injury." He chuckled in your ear. He wasn't going to tell you that your hug was hurting his sore body, he was just glad that you were hugging him.

"This isn't a small injury." You pulled away, hand coming up to touch the bandage around his head.

"I feel fine. How did you know I was here?" Hongjoong wanted you to rat out one of the boys so he knew who to kill.

"The others told me you were hurt and in the hospital. They said you were unconscious for two days!" You exclaimed, your worried eyes searching his oddly calm ones.

"But I'm awake now, I'm okay." He smiled softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. Hongjoong couldn't help but melt and worry at the glassiness of your eyes. He didn't want you to worry about him when this was his normal. But he realised that this might have to be a normal for you.

"Mr Kim, glad to see you awake." When Yunho brought the doctor in, you retracted your hands, stepping back from Hongjoong's hold.

"Hyung, we'll wait outside." Yeosang informed the captain and held Seonghwa as you all went into the hallway to wait while the doctor and his nurses checked on Hongjoong.

"Thank you for coming, (y/n)." Seonghwa said once you were all out of Hongjoong's earshot.

"Thank you for letting me know that he was here." You said gratefully. Seonghwa nodded his head with a small smile.

"Are you alright, Seonghwa?" You asked, noticing he had bruises and cuts littered over his face like Hongjoong. Even Mingi looked like he had suffered some injuries.

"We're all fine, just a little accident. Hongjoong got the worst of it." Seonghwa said.

"That's good..." You nodded, keeping your gaze to the ground. Right, you momentarily forgot they all do this for a living.

"Mr Kim is stable with no relapse of memory or impaired brain function. I do recommend that he stay here for 2 more days, for observation. But you may see him now, please let us know if he experiences any pain or discomfort." The doctor informed.

"Thanks, doctor." The boys bowed and walked back into the room where the nurse was removing the empty drip bag and tube from the needle port in Hongjoong's arm.

"Where's (y/n)?" Hongjoong asked as the nurse left with her cart. The 4 turned in confusion, realising you didn't come in with them.

"She was behind us." Yeosang said.

"(y/n)?" Mingi poked his head out to see if you lingered in the hallway but it was empty, you were not there anymore.

"I-I think she left, hyung..." Mingi informed with a sad frown on his face.

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