#bonus points if the 'you' part turns into a child when facing their darkness. Something about that visual.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Imagining a character meeting their dark alter ego and it pulls them in and hugs them. Tightly, protectively, undeniably with love, yet eyes full of fury.

You've unchained the beast you've kept locked away all this time and all it wanted was to love and protect you. It swallows you whole and you, too, finally feel free.

[missmeinyourbones]

a tiny little something for you babies! barely edited or proofread. probably not good but hey here we are. soft soft soft fluff with a pain in the ass satoru

…

“satoru?”

your lover replies eagerly, “yes, angel?”

“what’s the point of us having a king-sized bed if we aren’t actually utilizing its space?”

the question is rhetorical, he knows this, yet satoru still finds himself smiling as he opens his mouth to let it do what it does best and bullshit.

“why would i want to spread out in bed when i could be cuddling the love of my life all night?”

the bed is huge, far too big for two people—even including satoru and his ridiculously long limbs. a california king lined with satin sheets and pillows that feel like clouds. it feels like a dream, but the weight of satoru’s body thrown across your own reminds you that this is, in fact, a grounding reality. 

he feels you sigh against his hair, “as romantic as you’re trying to make that seem, you’re on my side of the bed.”

his eyebrows furrow against your chest, and he almost laughs at how silly your statement sounds. 

“there are no sides of the bed,” he easily replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

“what’s yours is mine baby,” he quips, before lifting his left hand to your face as proof, proudly showcasing the silver band decorating his ring finger. “i mean, that’s what we said in the vows, right?”

you swat his hand from your face and he chuckles, vibrating your entire body and making the room a whole lot warmer than it was a few moments ago. 

“i said in sickness and in health,” you stubbornly remind him, “not on my side of the bed and yours.”

at the tiredness lacing your voice and the grumpy glare you shoot him through your words, satoru decides to throw you a bone. he detangles himself from you, removing his weight and shuffling a bit further from where he priorly laid on top of you. 

now, he lays on his stomach, head turned to face your own. his large hand still makes itself comfortable flat across your soft stomach, his foot skimming your calf every now and then in an attempt to get comfortable. 

“there,” he exhales after a moment of deliberate shuffling, “i’ll let you breathe.”

his statement is so ridiculous, it makes you laugh. genuinely exhale from your nose and bubble deep from your throat. because to the eye of any stranger, the position is still extremely close. satoru is practically nuzzling into your side, glued to your hip as half of his body now slowly works its way on top of you—which is better than whole, so you take it as a win. 

you roll your eyes to hide your flush, “how kind of you.”

the moment is peaceful, but for only that—a moment. through the silence of your bedroom, satoru finds his voice once more. 

“can you rub my back?” 

he watches your face contort in the darkness as you scowl, “you’re insufferable.”

“please?” he whines like a child as his head pushes into your neck. “i’ll do yours after.”

you both know he won't, as he’ll be fast asleep in the next ten minutes, at most. you two do this same song and dance a few times a week: he asks you to run his back, you pretend to be annoyed by it, and then the gentle scratch of your nails on his skin lulls him to sleep rather quickly. it’s a routine, it feels like the two of you. 

through soft sighs of pleasure and dozing consciousness, satoru admits through a lazy grin. 

“this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“mhm,” you nod along at his blissed-out trance, “if i got to sprawl out and have my back rubbed til i fall asleep every night, i think it’d be my favorite part too.” 

satoru smiles with his teeth and he laughs from his belly at your quick remark. “not because of all this,” he claims through a whine, “it is a huge bonus, though.”

he slightly shivers beneath your fingertips when you whisper in return, “then why?”

satoru places a kiss on your neck, and his lips feel softer than the luxury bed you drift off in. 

“because i get to be with you,” he easily replies.

[avayarising]

Deaths of Cassandra Cain

Part of the Batfam Death Project.

Cass has two very definite deaths and one implied death. She also spent several days in the Spirit World. Total time dead: up to a couple of days, plus Spirit World time.

Verifiable deaths

1. Beaten in the chest by Lady Shiva (Batgirl 1:25, 2002)

Cass asked Lady Shiva (her mother, though at this point she didn’t know that) to train her because she was losing her ability to read body language. Shiva agreed, but in return asked for Cass to come back in a year and duel her to the death. Cass agreed to this. When the time came, they fought on a rooftop, and Shiva quickly killed Cass with what looks like a pre-cordial thump.

Cass was raised to life again by Lady Shiva some unspecified time later through some unspecified technique (though she did say she had prepared for years to be able to do it) involving punching her in the chest again.

Time dead: Unclear, but probably of the order of hours. Since the location where Cass was resurrected was not where she died, Shiva must have had to move her corpse, so probably at least a few hours, plus however long it took for Shiva to do whatever she did to resurrect Cass.

2. Took a sword for someone else (Batgirl 1:72–73, April 2006)

So before Cass was born. David Cain made other attempts at creating the Perfect Warrior, and he started out by taking existing children (from Ra’s Al Ghul) to train, rather than attempting to breed one. One of these became known as Mad Dog: very skilled but almost mindless and uncontrolled. In a forest in the middle of nowhere, he attempted to stab someone, Cass leapt in front, and:

Even though it looks from this picture like that big fat knife goes right through her ribcage, heart, and spine, she still managed to kick Mad Dog in the face before collapsing and dying.

After Cass died, she awoke being carried by Steph.

Steph told Cass something she couldn’t have known (that Blüdhaven had just been destroyed), indicating she was really present and not just a near-death hallucination.

Of course, it later turns out that Steph was never actually dead at all, but at this point in time she is dead, and her presence is meant to be an indicator that Cass is truly dead.

Lady Shiva raised her (again), this time via a Lazarus Pit. (At this point, Cass has only very recently found out that Shiva is her mother.)

Cass came out angry with Pit Madness, but Shiva trapped her in a net and coached her through it. Cass calmed down in a matter of minutes.

Time dead: between several hours and a couple of days (Shiva had to carry her out of a forest on foot and get to the Lazarus Pit before she could resurrect her).

Bonus extra deaths

(Implied, inferrable, ambiguous and arguable deaths)

1. Probably died in Death Metal along with everyone else (Death Metal 7, 2021)

Cass probably died in battle when the Dark Multiverse invaded and destroyed all the worlds of the multiverse. All the remaining heroes came together in a hopeless fight against an army of their worst nightmares, including an apparently never-ending swarm of groblins (mindless evil Jokerised Robins led by the Robin King, an evil child Bruce Robin).

Cass’s death isn’t shown on panel and neither is her dead body, but she is definitely in the group of Bats standing ready to fight (far right, in an oddly ill-fitting Orphan outfit):

And later Evil Child Bruce Robin tells Batman that everyone else is dead, so that seems like Cass is dead too.

On the other hand, Evil Child Bruce Robin probably doesn’t know what’s going on away from his immediate vicinity, so it’s possible that Cass was drawn away during the battle earlier on and is still out there fighting in a different part of the field.

After this, Wonder Woman persuades the Creators to remake the world and everyone is fine again.

Time dead: unclear; might be up to an hour, or longer if it takes longer to remake the world.

2. Perhaps was shot by Lady Shiva at some point (Spirit World 3, 2023)

Thank you to @fantastic-nonsense for pointing this one out! During Cass’s trip to the Spirit World (see below) she was bitten by a fox spirit and regained the memory of a previous encounter in the Spirit World when she was dead. The flashback montage panel shows Shiva shooting Cass in the chest, followed by Cass’s revival in the Lazarus Pit in Batgirl 1:73 with its very distinctive hook and chain.

Although it’s most likely that this is just a conflation and reinterpretation of Cass’s previous two deaths and resurrections, the new method of death suggests that this could be an additional, off-panel, death and resurrection.

More details in @fantastic-nonsense’s original commentary here.

Afterlife visits

1. Pulled into the Spirit World (Lazarus Planet: Dark Fate, 2023; Spirit World, 2023)

When the Lazarus Volcano erupts and rains down Lazarus Water on the whole earth, it stirs up a lot of undead. In a graveyard in Gotham, Cass joins John Constantine and Xanthe Zhou (a ’spirit envoy’ who died as a child and was partially resurrected and is now both living and dead) in a fight against hopping vampires (jiang-shi) and a ‘ghost collective’ (a big ball of angry ghosts).

With Constantine’s and Cass’s help, Xanthe exorcises the collective, but on its way out the collective grabs Cass’s ankle and pulls her into the Spirit World with it.

In the Spirit World, she more or less gets adopted by Xanthe’s granny, who has also adopted another ghost, Bowen. (It’s not clear in this panel, but Po Po is tiny and only comes up to Cass’s waist.)

A spirit she meets there tells her they have met before, when she was dead, though she clearly doesn’t remember her time dead. (The spirit doesn’t clarify which of Cass’s deaths it is referring to, but since she was with Steph all through her second death, it is likely to be her first – but it might be a completely different one; see above.)

Of course, John and Xanthe go in after her and they eventually reunite. After a great quest, the freeing of the ghosts from their collective, and major reorganisation of the politics of the Spirit World, they all leave together through a portal.

Time in afterlife: several days.

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[ladyhindsight]

sorry to bring up character ages in tid again, but i wanted to run a theory by you about something i discovered.

in chapter 1 of clockwork princess, tessa is being fitted for her wedding dress and she says this: “he would look so young. they were both so young. tessa new it was unusual to marry at seventeen and eighteen, but they were racing a clock.”

clockwork princess takes place in september/october (i think??) of 1878, and their wedding was supposed to be in december. what i’m thinking that tessa must be older than what cc has told us (in both the family tree and the “new” canon she established with the 10th anni of ca). based on the quote, we can probably assume that tessa is either already seventeen when clockwork princess starts, or will be turning seventeen sometime between then and december. which assumes jem’s birthday is somewhere in there as well. so will and jem being born in 1860 is probably correct, but tessa was probably born in 1861.

Bottom line: cc can’t even keep her own canon straight XD. im gonna try to write my own time line to try to make sense of it sigjdnd.

Waait a minute. Wow.

So, yes. Tessa's birthday is said to be January 28, 1862. Clockwork Princess takes place from October to December, which means Tessa is sixteen and turns seventeen in January 1879, which is still a couple months away from the supposed wedding.

I guess they didn't have any confirmed dates of birth before the 10th anniversary edition of Clockwork Angel, just the birth years, but I found this part with Charlotte and Jem in Clockwork Princess, chapter 13 "The Mind Has Mountains":

You are still a child, Charlotte wanted to say, but she did not. He was only a few weeks short of his eighteenth birthday, after all, when Shadowhunters became adults, and if when she looked at him she still saw the dark-haired little boy who had arrived from Shanghai clutching his violin, his eyes huge in his pale face, that did not mean he had not grown up.

Which, of course, goes along with the whole

“Yes, though Charlotte’s rather fallen off in tutoring us lately, as you might imagine,” said Will. “One either has a tutor or one is schooled in Idris—that is, until you attain your majority at eighteen. Which will be soon, thankfully, for the both of us.” “Which one of you is older?” “Jem,” said Will, and “I am,” said Jem, at the same time. They laughed in unison as well, and Will added, “Only by three months, though.”

part in Clockwork Prince which takes place from July to August, but the rest of what was previously discussed gives the idea that they both have already turned seventeen in 1878, especially when juxtaposed with Gabriel's and Nate's ages and the rest.

Otherwise it does work that Will is born in late December and Jem's birthday is in November, other than that whole mess with being "three months" apart in age. But the language is weird, Tessa won't be marrying at seventeen no matter what, though Jem' would've recently turned eighteen.

Will telling Cecily that:

“You can’t be married, Cecily! You’re only fifteen! When I get married, I’ll be eighteen! An adult!”

Will turning eighteen a week or so after that Christmas when he proposed to Tessa works in that context as well. Though they apparently married two years later in March 3, 1880, according to the bonus content.

Though not exactly on topic, I want to point out that in said bonus content, Will thinks that "It wasn’t strictly a Shadowhunter wedding, because Tessa wasn’t strictly a Shadowhunter. But Will had decided to wear wedding gear anyway, because he was going to be the head of the London Institute, and his children would be Shadowhunters" though, at least according to the comic, James' conception was such a surprise because they didn't know if Tessa as a warlock could have children. And James was born in 1886, six years after the wedding.

Anyway, it's still a bit of a mess because, though some parts do fit, other parts of the text seem to have been written in another frame of reference in any case.

The timeline idea sounds fantastic!

[amrass]

Fanfiction updates and excerpts 09.01.24

I am still sort of burned out, so taking it slow, but wanted to update any readers on my projects. I have settled on four main works, all for RDR2, two small crack fics and two smut fics (Arthur/Micah/Dutch, and Colm/Micah).

Info and excerpts under the cut!

Love Letters. Crack. Unexpected twoshot about the gang drawing dicks on the face of a certain sleeping rat. Part one is up!

"Oh," Grimshaw said, frowning at Micah's face, dirtied with something other than dirt. "Well. It's not my job to wash men who are that level of unwashed. But ..." In a swift, elegant movement, she pulled a fountain pen out from her hairdo. She wielded her pen like a knife, and the onlookers blinked at the added details to Micah's face, and an awed "Ahh" went through them, together with polite clapping. "Someone forgot the balls on that one," Grimshaw said.

Moral Tinnitus. Crack. Half finished oneshot where Arthur can hear the honor bell. This is even sillier than Love Letters, often breaking the fourth wall, with weird physics.

Arthur stood stock still when Dutch started rummaging around in his beard. After some shuffling about, he grasped two section of voluminous hair as if pulling apart theater curtains. Deep inside the beard was a familiar form, the sheer compactness of his squatting making Micah's earlier yoga positions seem like child's play.

 "Trelawny! You rascal, what are you doing inside Arthur's beard?"

"I'm hiding from the law, old friend."

Scotch, Cream and Rum. Smut threeshot, Arthur/Micah/Dutch. My first attempt at PWP, and it will be about 10 - 15k words. First part is done, but I want to finish the second to estimate the action curve lol. So far it is like 4000 words of a competitive blowjob ...

Micah had to breathe at some point, taking a break to swallow back spit. But it wasn't a true break, because he left a trail of kisses around the head of Dutch's cock, pulling back the foreskin and panting against the sensitive skin beneath, which Arthur would've never thought to do.

"You're truly ... remarkable at this, aren't you?" Dutch said.

"You're the remarkable one, Dutch."

Arthur thought he might puke.

Micah must've sensed it somehow, because the reverence in his eyes deadened as they slid to the side. "Your turn, tough guy," he said, holding Dutch's cock like they were boys sharing a stolen cigar behind a garden shed.

Salt. Previously titled Perfect Night. Colm/Micah pre-canon sugar daddy AU, multichapter kinkfest? Part 1 is done, but this is still changing a lot, and after 200k words on writing Micah as a secondary character, he is letting me write from his perspective!!! Their villainous chemistry is off the charts. Warning: DARK CONTENT

He didn't get far before pain engulfed him, so intense it took a moment to realize it came from Colm squeezing his balls. Pride leaked through his mouth in a high, undignified sound, until they became numb. It was worse when Colm loosened the hold. Blood flooded back and Micah almost went to his knees, but Colm steadied him, one hand finding his erection through the fabric. Micah felt distant to his own arousal, closer to the pain.

"Knew it," Colm said. Casual, he undid Micah’s jeans, pulling them down just enough to expose him. The glove was around him was softer than a callused hand. "No underwear, kitten? That's gotta chafe. You’re such a pain slut."

"Queer piece of shit geezer."

"Sure. But you can call me sir, if you wanna."

^^ bonus crack variation of this dynamic

Colm: I'll steal all your secrets, I’ll make you love me, I’ll wrangle your true submission out of you

Micah: ok boomer

… Thanks for reading!

[brokenrobot2004]

Banken has a bit of a ways to go in terms of needing more of a roughed-up look on his metal casing (Here he looks brand new, almost uncannily, and I want him to look a little more like a robot who lived in an E-waste landfill for a few years like he is!), and the shading is a little weird on the side of his head too and although it looks okay like that, I'm not generally a huge fan of it, it makes him look kinda fake ,':Lc (Also he's posing with Sendoa in this picture because, they're brothers! Banken is the older brother, they were both built by the same company over at GuardTech in-universe!)

His design is a little wishy-washy in general, but I seem to have something against drastically changing the appearances of characters I came up with when I was younger for some reason; like outside of updating smaller things about them just to make them more consistent to draw/model/sew/etc in future projects, I like keeping their older looks even if they're kinda silly because they feel like history to me XD they can be cringe and not make much sense, but like, it's cringe in a familiar and comforting way, you know?

Anyways bonus picture of Banken in the dark BECAUSE IT'S AWESOME- (also weird shading moment again in the eyes, I'll get to that O.o)

I can't see someone wanting to rob a house with that thing in the front yard!!!! (He's scared of things like butterflies though, lest you be fooled by that permanent sneer on his face XD

Here it is with no outside lighting at all! I simulated LED lights by parenting these point lights to the head bone of his armature using an object constraint (Child Of); which I think turned out awesome for the most part and will absolutely be doing for any future LED-related mannors in Blender!

[idv-sunsxin3]

*shyly slides in here from discord* So uhhh.. M-May I request some bethsop headcannons?

Aesop Carl x Beth Anastazja // HCs

(Idv Canon x oc) Beth by @beth-bethar00

Note// I know Aesop's lore, it's dark. But I want to imagine there is this innocent child side of him that is just... fragile, you know 🥺

_____

There are two ways I view bethsop.

One is girlboss x malewife. Because I really can see Beth doing so many cool moves and punches just to take care of soft bf/ih

The other is... technically kinds like this softcore dynamic like the first one, except that they both seem to treat each other equally. Giving and reciprocating Affections through gifts or quality time.

They both have difficulties to express themselves, but they are actually pretty good at reading each other's mood just by behavior---

While Aesop doesn't like to let Beth see the "scary" side of his work, he likes to spend time with her by baking. Trying out different recipes everytime they meet up at the kitchen with the ingredients they agree to bring. I like to think they would do it once in a week or two.

Aesop and PDA is something I've never imagine to go hand in hand--- but I can see that he wouldn't bat an eye when it comes to hand holding or hugs. He loves arm linking with Beth too. Kissing? He'll die/j

He is not used to such kind of physical contact, but he's not scared of Beth, knowing her pretty well she wouldn't hurt him.

He wouldn't be nervous when holding her hand, pulling her close to where his heart is, and plant a light kiss on her forehead. Showing how much her presence means to him.

He doesn't like to see Beth run away from him. Even if Beth assures she won't leave him, even if he doesn't seem worried about it. On the inside, he can't tell himself that it may not happen. Because losing someone so dear to him wasn't pleasant either.

I think Aesop would be so nervous by the thought of sleeping together--- but I have this hc where there are times they both were hanging out at one of their rooms and Beth would fall asleep in the process. Those moments is when Aesop watches her calmly sleep like a beautiful angel as he sits on the bed-- sometimes unconsciously falling asleep too.

They do picnics on the greenhouse after Beth first suggested it when they have plenty of time- convince me otherwise/ih

Like lots of yummy pastries while looking at nature on a soft blanket seems like a cozy idea... Beth usually bakes for them and sometimes Aesop helps out as a way to spend more time with her. I like to think they take turns carrying all the heavy equipment to set them up every picnic date they have.

Embalming isn't that scary as Beth would see when seeing Aesop helping the client's body go on with a morning routine, tidy them up, putting them make up, and talk to them as if they were normal people... as if including them and not viewing them as something he should avoid but be mindful of like a living person.

Beth is aware that Aesop is not very closed with the living- so she would often listen attentively as Aesop talks to her about people who... technically aren't alive at the moment as if they're his friends. It sounds eerie when I explain it but if there is this one person who died naturally and you still want to recall them it would seem heartwarming you know what I mean;;;/ih

Aesop is anxious and probably even an introvert- It's either he stays behind Beth or beside her- but his face will remain as if he saw a ghost when seeing people looking at him and talking to him---

Beth is an exception, her soft spoken voice is soothing. Almost like his mother....

But he doesn't see Beth as his mother despite of her slight motherly nature, no, he sees her as his muse. The love of his life. By the time his goal is finished for his part, she can even tell him to die and he would gladly do that;;😭/hj

Aesop loves embalming Beth during matches, especially when the safe spots are in the right angle.

Bonus points if the place looks pleasing to the eye, just to surprise her in the most pleasant ways as possible to lower this extreme feeling of when she's in danger. He wants her to be cautious for her safety, yet careful to her heart.

He lowkey melts internally when touching fingers with Beth as they decode together- he enjoys watching her get flustered as well, staring and scrutinizing every detail of her facial changes and the perfect flaws she tends to show.

As assist survivors and even as couple, I think they both have medkits for each other in their pockets, basket, and/or suitcase. Both for matches and even in the manor. Like I can see that when they cook together, little accidents may happen with one of them and the other would help them patch up hhh.

I like to think they don't always directly talk to each other about their problems or traumas- like they help each other recover bit by bit by being with them, maybe even reassuring one another and sometimes unintentionally proving that not everything they believe isn't that bad or good. Just go on as humans, yet not ignoring the bad feelings.🫶

[basilone]

Naturally, I could not resist participating in @mercurygray's Blind Dates again this year! I'm not getting a bonus cookie this time around, as I have paired this new OC with someone I've written a fair few times already (hello Nix!), but I think this is certainly a bit of an "off the beaten track"-path I've suddenly found myself on... A strong warning here, guys, as this OC's got a mouth on her and the nature of her profession at the infamous Lulu's does turn this conversation a little.. questionable in places. 😉 Merc was lovely enough to provide us with nifty banners this time around (ty!), so I'm going to stop rambling and introduce you to...

There is nothing like the swirl of amber at the bottom of a glass. He’d almost pressed his nose against the carafe when he was still a child, determined to find out if it harbored the same dragonfly wings some of his mother’s jewels did. He’d been convinced of spying the soft lace structure in its burnt umber shade, of seeing the gossamer spread of flight twinkle in its brightest golden hues. If he looked hard enough, taking care to not ruin the glass with his hands or his nose, he could still see the flutter bubble forth from its depths.

Lewis Nixon tips the amber-coated dragonfly liquor into his mouth and feels the slip of wings unfurl down his throat and take hold of his belly. Long gone are the days when the sensation turned him giddy, though the warmth still spreads down to his toes. They should have warmth like that, all of them, once they head out into the winter woods. His demands to put the liquor on the Army supply list have yet to be met, let alone be taken seriously. There is nothing to help stave off the cold, not where they’re going.

It’s enough to drive a man to drink more, and grasp warmth where he can.

He misjudges the stretch of space between himself and the bottle. Or, rather, stops in mid-air as another hand closes around its neck before his fingers can reach it.

“Last pour?”

“It would be,” he snipes, not caring one whit about that perfect manicure but stopping short of touching that hand all the same, “if you took your hand off my bottle.” Lew knows his gesture at her and then at himself isn’t perfect. Thinks he gets the point across well enough, especially as he takes a moment to emphasize the obvious. “I’m not interested in anything beyond that drink.”

“The girls already mentioned that,” she says, with a warm lilt sing-songing her otherwise rather clipped words. “They say you are not interested in any of our buxom ladies, or our few exotiques”– comes the near-French hum of a lady born and raised around this part of the world –“nor in the tall blonde or the very freckled redhead who can put a smile on anyone’s face.”

Tap-tap goes one red-coated fingernail against the bottle’s neck. Lew snorts out something that could be annoyance or recognition. He’s not sure which, though once he raises his head he realizes it is very much both.

Her hair is perfectly coiffed in today’s fashion, with only a small curl near her ear escaping confinement. Red-lipped is the pout that seems to come natural to her, with big doe eyes blinking at him in what he knows to be well-faked innocence. She’s coltish, this one, dressed in a faded floral that bares the top of her breasts even before she leans toward him, and Lew spies long legs and heels beneath the skirt that even his sister would deem scandalously short.

“I am not interested in you,” he half-smiles, thinking he recognizes her efforts for what they are, “but nice try, sweetheart.”

The flicker of amber in her dark eyes is a warning Lew heeded far too late. “Oh, I was not trying,” she refutes. A familiar flatness has entered her voice. “If all you do is drink, then you can go drink in another place. If you do want a girl, or two, or five, then you pay upfront and right now.”

Lew blinks. Then stares. “You’re kicking me out?”

Her shrug is a special form of callous, or so he decides when she takes the seat opposite his own and tugs his bottle over to her side of the table entirely. There’s only a small swirl of flight still trapped inside that bottle. Just a bottom of a pit he doesn’t want to crawl out of. All of it escapes containment now, with her hand tipping the bottle back, with her lips closing around its mouth and suckling it dry with well-practiced ease, with amber droplets lingering at the corner of her insincere smile once she sets the bottle down again.

“I was drinking that,” he says, snapping for real now that she’s emptied his bottle and taken ownership of his space. “I came here to drink, not to entertain the likes of you.”

Her brow quirks. “You came to a brothel to drink instead of fuck? Aren’t you special.” The derisive snort is one he’s definitely heard back home more than enough times to count. In fact, he’d say his wife would give this woman a run for her money where that is concerned. “Sure, you can be the drunkard in the corner who might still finish in our youngest’s hand before stumbling home to his bunk. That’s usually no skin off my back”– follows another shrug –“but you carry rank. Enough rank to rattle our paying clients. Enough to worry the girls. And I don’t want them getting ideas, hm?”

“What sort of ideas would that be, hm?” Lew cannot help mimicking her speech any more than he can stop the damned sun from rising tomorrow. “My apologies, Madam Lulu”– he nods, fully aware that the press of crowd around them carries more than enough soldiers who’d ordinarily refer to him as sir –“but this drunkard’s disgrace is a well-known fact among your clients.”

“It’s Valerie, actually,” she corrects, waving her hand airily now that there’s no need to cling to his bottle any longer. “Lulu was my teddybear once. It had the cutest button nose”– a smile, fleeting but real this time before it turns into a shark’s grin –“and it felt great to hold its head between my thighs, mm?” Her leg stretches. Brushes against his just so. “I held on to that bear even when maman called me too old for it, obviously.”

“Charming.”

“I sell the pleasure that bear once gave me,” she smiles back, seemingly undeterred by the frost he’s allowed to creep into his own voice, “and so do the girls here. Refusing them all is not something that happens, you see? And when someone does, well, then… others may take it as invitation to refuse, too, n’est ce pas?” Again the amber flutters in her gaze, as though the last of the liquor is seeking flight. “They will drink, and they will make merry, and they will drink even more. I will be out of stock before the night is up, but that is not the problem. Oh no!” She lifts a single finger. “They will drink and then they will haggle price. They will drink and then they will take a girl or two to bed, or share a girl between them. And then they will have drunk so much that they will not get it up so easily, and then the blame will start…”

“And your girls might get hurt,” he finishes for her as her pause is a little too long.

“Just so, oui.”

“All this because I sit and drink? I am a married man, you know.”

Her scoff is entirely derisive. “The majority of men here are married, so I will thank you not to use that for an excuse.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like taking anyone to bed tonight? Been a hell of a day, Valerie,” he comments, nudging her leg with his foot until she grimaces and withdraws. “Lot on my mind.”

“It’s a war,” she says, “don’t we all?” Valerie’s chin comes to rest atop her hand as she studies him. “Poor little rich boy, hm? Not used to all this work, not used to foreign whores who don’t beg for him to marry them, not used to having reasons to drink and piss away all of daddy’s fortune.”

Lew smirks. “You are certainly one to talk. Tell me,” he says, mimicking her gesture, “how does a poor little rich girl become the madam of a brothel? Must be one hell of a story.”

Her gaze shutters a moment before she regains her bearing. “Backstory costs extra.” Her tone is flatter than ever before. “In fact, that would cost more than being swaddled in a blanket like a babe and mothered over the way one of those Nazi officers always requested. But tell me, sir”– and oh, the venom that drips from her tongue carries more sting than any alcohol –“what gave me away?”

He tilts his head. “Your command of English, lightly accented but impeccable otherwise,” he nods. “Your hands are not like some of the others I have seen here, less calloused by far. You don’t look straight at me, but at a point just beside my head. You make an excellent conversationalist, or you would if you did not mention using your own poor teddybear’s nose to help you ride to climax”– and here Lew cannot help smile, imagining those long legs wrapped around such softness for a moment until his trousers feel almost tight–“and you know how to deal with poor drunken sods like myself by steering them away from whatever meets your disapproval. Truly, chapeau. Whatever does your daddy have to say about his daughter, I wonder?”

“Last I heard, he stopped his whoring just long enough to divorce my mother,” she says breezily, “and that information will be an extra tenner on top of all the tenners you already pissed away at this table tonight. Want to keep going? I’ll keep talking until your whole trustfund is in my possession, and then where will you be?”

“Nice to know you care enough to warn me, Valerie.”

“Oh, so you suddenly buy something I sell after all?”

Lew shifts in his seat. “Easier to believe the lie, isn’t it?”

“That it is.” She hums a moment, lingering on a few stray bars of a song that’s been playing at the periphery of his mind all evening, before her amber-hued gaze flits over to a space just behind him. “I have a client waiting, and I believe I told you to leave if you are not going to buy anything but a drink and lies tonight.”

He follows her gaze. Cranes his neck long enough to spy some D Company men raising a glass to their table. “What, all of them?” he laughs, nodding back at them before turning his attention back to her. “Or did good ol’ Sparky send his men to fetch you for him?”

“Speirs? Heavens no, never him, I am not to his taste,” comes the twinkle of laughter, very real now, and the fact that she recognizes both nickname and man makes Lew groan. “One of his men always pays me a handsome sum to talk and fuck the night away. He said you’d be his new leader soon, though, so naturally I had to come see you for myself. Charlie will be curious what I made of you, hm, don’t you think?” Valerie rises to her feet in a flurry of motion and grace. “Nice meeting you, Mr Nixon. Be sure to tip little Aimée, who’s been running to find your special liquor in our stores all night, before you leave. The steep price of her usual finish should do it, no?”

Lew grimaces. Raises his voice at her even as she sweeps away from his table. “It’s Lewis, actually. Mr Nixon is my father!”

Her raised eyebrow is imperious as she turns on her heel. “Somehow,” she spits back, amber eyes burning holes into the very depths of him until his insides quail, “I very much doubt anyone could tell that difference at this hour.”

[captainaikus]

TEACHING THE TOMAN BOYS TO SKATEBOARD

Mikey, Draken and Baji

Tags : crude language and mentions of blood

Pairings : Mikey x reader, Draken x reader and Baji x reader (Baji's is fem!reader indicated)

They are in their third year

Here's part 2!

Mikey :

"Ne (Y/N) chan... let me ride that" mikey said as he pointed at your skateboard. "Do you know how to skate?" you asked as you looked from his pointed finger towards his face. "No" he responded as his eyes didn't look away from the skateboard beneath your feet. "Mikey... you could get hurt since you don't know how to use the board" you said in a calm and assuring tone. "But I still wanna try it" he half yelled in a childish manner as he turned his face away from you in an angry pout.

Thinking about it while placing your chin in your hand, what was the worse that could happen? You knew if he broke your board he would buy you a new one, but he was careful with your things to make sure that they remained in an intact condition.

After giving it some thought, you decided to let him ride your skateboard.

“Alright, but before we start” you said as you grabbed his hands, “we need to get you a helmet, kneepads, elbow pads and maybe gloves?”

“You’re so cute (Y/N) chan. But I don’t think I would be needing any of those… I know what it feels like to be hurt. I am a part of a gang after all” he said as he let go of your hands and pick up the skateboard. Using his foot, he kicked the ground and pushed the skateboard. You were mesmerized watching him skate. He didn’t seem to be a novice. Perfect balance, position and he also seemed to be having a decent speed. As he approached the rail, he was able to grind on it with the board. Sure, it wasn’t perfect… but it still surprised you to see how he was able to pull it off. You had seen a fair share of people failing at their sixth and seventh attempts or more while trying to pull off the grind rail.

“Leave your mouth open and you might catch flies in them (Y/N) chan” you heard a teasing remark come near you ear.

“How did you learn to do that” you said as you turned around to face Mikey.

“A leader never shares his secrets” he said as he placed a finger on his lips and smiled at you.

Bonus : Mikey likes sitting on the skateboard while moving it back and forth on the wheels. He also tells you or Draken to push it from behind. He has fallen asleep on/with your board several times when you both laid against the grass and stared into the sky, hearing the revving up of bike engines at a distance.

Draken :

“Oi. Why did you call me?” Draken asked in a loud voice as you flipped the skateboard with your foot. “Kenchin!” you said in surprise as you turned around to see the tall man behind you. “Don’t call me that!” he said as he titled his head in anger “Why’d you call me out here (Y/N)?”

“I thought we could skate? but if you don’t want to… we could do something else…” you mumbled as you pushed your skateboard back and forth with one foot. Draken noticed your softened eyes as you stared at the skateboard deep in thought. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have called him. He runs a gang for fucks sake. He doesn’t have time to put with your antics’. Your thoughts came to a halt as you saw a hand pick up the head of your skateboard.

“Yaruze” he said in a monotonous tone as he placed the skateboard under his foot. Grabbing the extra helmet, you brought with you, you shoved it into his hands.

“Hai hai. But before that we need to make sure that you’re secured and don’t have any injuries. Have you skated before?” you asked as you reached high to place the helmet on his head. He held you by your forearms and smirked down at you.

“I work in a gang woman. I know what it is like to get hurt” he said. He got on top of the skateboard and stood still, looking at you for further instruction.

“Okay… so… uh” you said shakily as you pointed towards the ground “put one foot on the ground and keep the other one on the board”

Draken put his left foot on the ground and kept his right foot on the board. “Now… use the foot on the ground to push the board”

Draken did as you told and pushed himself using his left foot while making sure to steady his weight on the board.

“Okay… now place your foot back on the board and relax your shoulders” you said as you jogged alongside him. He had wide strides as he skated. He had also picked up a fair speed which wasn’t bad for a beginner. “Yata!” Draken said with a smile as he continued to do as you told. You smiled and laughed beside him as you continued to run.

“Alright. I’m gonna do the hop” he said as he got ready to jump with the skateboard.

“Kenchin dame!”

Bonus :

You glared at Draken as you picked up your broken skateboard. He looked away in embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink.

The next day, you found a (f/c) skateboard wrapped in (f/c) ribbon on your seat.

“Evening 6:30. Don’t you dare be late” the note said in a scribbled handwriting. Chuckling you placed it folded into your pocket.

Baji

“Why the hell are we here?” Baji said as he looked at you with half lidded eyes.

“To skate Kei” you said with a laugh as you held your skateboard close to your ribs.

“I got that but why?” he said as he said as he titled his head and gave your skateboard a questioning look.

“Cause it’s fun?” you said in an inquisitive tone.

“Not for me. A skateboard can’t give me the adrenaline a bike gives. Neither can it give me the thrill of being hit back” he said in a monotonous tone.

“Not everything violent has to give you satisfaction Keisuke. Riding a bike needs fuel and an engine. The only thing you’re in control of is the handle, speed and balance. Skateboarding is different. You just have your feet and your body to do the math” you said as you held out your skateboard. “Why don’t you try it and see for yourself?” you asked with a small smile. He looked down at the skateboard in your hands before taking it into his, using his index finger to toy with the wheel. He looked at you with a bored expression.

“If you want it to be that thrilling, then don’t wear a helmet. I’m sure the ground can hit you as hard as any other opponent” you challenged him with a smirk.

“I’ll make sure you eat those damn words (Y/N)” he said as he tied his silky black hair into a ponytail and put the skateboard on the ground. Keisuke was not new to the concept of skating. He had seen them in playgrounds, may have grabbed one of them and used it as a weapon… it was complicated. He didn’t have a particular fascination with them as he merely viewed them as a child’s toy.

“Okay keisuke. Have you skated before?” you asked as you were ready to give him a set of instructions.

“Nah” he said as he kicked the skateboard, dragging it back with his foot.

“Alright. Keep one foot on the ground and the other on the board” you said while pointing at his feet and the ground, “whichever foot you’re comfortable with pushing goes on the ground”.

He did as you told.

“Now push” you said as he lifted his left leg and began to push.

“Okay… uh. Rest your shoulders and place one foot at the back of the board” you said as you ran by side. Unknowingly, Keisuke put the skate to stop by leaning too much of his weight towards the end of the skateboard and fell on his palms facing forward. You rushed towards him to make sure he was okay. Squatting beside him on the ground, you took one of his hands into yours and winced at the sight of broken skin and blood.

“Kuso” he smirked as he stared down at his palm.

“Told ya. You didn’t have the best start at this, but you did try" you said as he glared at you from the corner of his eye.

"Tell you what, meet me tomorrow at 9:00pm here” you said as you got up from the ground.

“For what?” Keisuke sneered as he looked up at you.

“You’ll see” you said as you gave him a peck on the cheek and got on your skateboard, heading towards your home.

“What in the world was she talking about…” he said as he walked off.

Keisuke waited for you at the designated spot.

“What the fuck is taking her so long” he said as he stared into the dark sky. “Kei!” he heard at a distance as you waved under the streetlight. You didn’t have your skateboard with you. You had a black one and it seemed to be old… but refurbished.

“(Y/N). You kept me waiting for 20 minutes. Now quit screwing around and show me what you got” he said as he glowered down at you.

“Calm down Kei” you said with a chuckle at his impatience as you set the skateboard down on the ground.

“Stand back” you said as stood a good amount of feet away from the rail. Keisuke gave you space by moving behind.

.

.

His eyes widened as you railed your skateboard and created sparks on the concrete brick.

“Wha-” he said as he stared you held the head of the skateboard and walked towards him.

“Had this customized and before you ask, yes. I can create fires too” you said as you smirked.

“Get better at skateboarding and maybe I’ll be willing to give you this” you said as you raised the skateboard.

“Koiyo”.

Bonus :

“Can you-”

“No keisuke. You can’t use knives to customize your skateboard” you said as you took a sip of juice.

“How about-”

“No”.

Notes :

Yaruze : Let's do it

Dame : Means Don't, no

kuso : Fuck/ shit (it's varying to be honest)

koiyo : Bring it on!

[h34rtizuku]

༺♡༻ if ur under 18, dni ✧ luv u tho

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

୨୧ izuku is a pro hero with a 6 year old kid and it’s not mf easy

୨୧ while he’s at work, inko will watch over the child but he feels bad for putting all that burden on her so he decides to hire a nanny

୨୧ while he’s at work, inko will watch over the child but he feels bad for putting all that burden on her so he decides to hire a nanny

୨୧ while he’s at work, inko will watch over the child but he feels bad for putting all that burden on her so he decides to hire a nanny

୨୧ you're not too big on kids but you're good with them and that he experiences first hand ~

୨୧ he’s at the store one weekend with kiddo and he’s in the chip aisle looking for which type he wants to get

୨୧ mumbling to himself about which type he’s craving now but what if that craving changes later and he wants a different flavor instead

୨୧ he lets go of the little one’s hand for a split second to get the bag off the shelf and once the grocery is in his arms he turns to his side to grab the little one’s hand once more, only to find him not there

୨୧ he looks up and down the aisle - no kid

୨୧ he goes to the neighboring aisles - not there

୨୧ he goes all around the store, nervously sweating, muttering insults to himself that he lost his only kid - how stupid and unfit of a parent he was

୨୧ until he comes upon an aisle and hears the sniffles of a small child the child took a bit after him when he was a kid, a bit of a crybaby

୨୧ but he sees you

୨୧ calmly reassuring the child, patting his back, telling him to calm down and not to worry that you’ll go look for his father together

୨୧ he doesn’t know why but the sight tugs at his heart, there is something so pure and natural about how you are treating his child

୨୧ but he’s breaking up the sweet moment with a call of his child’s name causing the little boy to turn around and rush into izuku’s large warm arms

୨୧ you’re standing there a little shocked because omg that’s pro hero deku in the mf flesh

୨୧ but you're also happy that the lost boy has been reunited with his father

୨୧ you're about to walk off with a smile when he stops you

୨୧ he thanks you profusely for your help and you’re shyly like ‘it’s no biggie’ with blushed cheeks

୨୧ he asks if he can properly thank you and you’re like dude it’s really no problem

୨୧ he really is thankful but there is also something deep inside him that doesn’t quite want to let you go

୨୧ so he’s like let me buy your groceries and take you out for coffee

୨୧ and you’re about to refuse but you’re a poor college student so getting this weeks groceries for free was one thing

୨୧ but also how are you gonna pass up having coffee with the number one hero and his cute little mini-me ???

୨୧ so yall are at a cute lil cafe where he learns that you're a college student and looking for a partime job over the summer

୨୧ he’s like, you know what, why don’t i hire you as my nanny

୨୧ you’re like i’m not sure, i’m not really a kid person

୨୧ he’s like, i saw you with him, you’ll be just fine - besides he’s a good kid, he just needs someone to watch over him and feed him

୨୧ also i pay really well

୨୧ so you’re like … say less

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

୨୧ so the first day on the job you arrive at like 8 am, he gave you the code to his door so you just let yourself in

୨୧ you see kiddo at the kitchen table just eating his cheerios or whatever but no sign of izuku

୨୧ so you just go over and take a seat next to the kid and make small talk with him

୨୧ then you hear some shuffling coming from behind you causing you to turn around and investigate

୨୧ lo and behold you see a shirtless izuku with nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low on his wide hips

୨୧ he’s got a towel across his broad shoulders that he’s using to dry the jade curls that haven’t been shaved off as a part of his undercut

୨୧ you follow the droplets of water as they slide down the crevices of his pectorals and abdomen, drifting down his v line and the small tuft of hair leading down from his belly button and melting into the waistline of his pants

୨୧ you’re trying not to salivate at the sight but you also can’t bring yourself to look away just yet wanting to memorize and study the location of every scar and freckle littering his muscular torso

୨୧ he stops drying his hair for a minute and finally sees you like ‘oh great you’re here - how was the trip over here? it wasn’t too hard to find right?’

୨୧ and you’re burning eyes finally tear away from caramel torso and you’re like ‘nope, i found it just fine’ ahaha

୨୧ he gives you a little low down on like, what kid likes to eat, what he doesn’t, what he likes to do, when he goes down for a nap … all that good babysitting stuff

୨୧ after he’s dressed in his hero outfit, he’s kissing his lil nugget goodbye, telling him to treat you nicely, and with several final thank you’s he’s out the door

୨୧ and that’s the start of your job nannying the kid of the number one hero

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

୨୧ he was right, the kid is a really easy kid

୨୧ he goes down easy for his nap, he’s potty trained, inko raised him like she did izuku so he’s basically the perfect kid, he’s really sweet and will sit down and watch movies with you or he plays really easy by himself playing with his deku, all might, and dynamite action figures

୨୧ and if how easy a job it was, or the smoking hot employer wasn’t enough, the first time you got your paycheck was

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

୨୧ one day, there was a sudden summer storm that hit right as you reached your stop on the bus

୨୧ you didn’t have an umbrella, forcing you to run to izuku’s house in the pouring rain

୨୧ you show up through the front door and he comes in to greet you only to see you drenched and shivering due to the ac in his home

୨୧ he���s like, “hey y/n how- oh my god, you’re soaked.”

୨୧ and you’re rubbing at your arm awkwardly and trying to create any sort of warmth as you tell him how you got in this mess

୨୧ he’s taking in your soaked form and suddenly his worrying eyes turn into curious ones as he watches a droplet slide from your chin, down your neck, and down your chest to fall between the top alley of your breasts due to the first few buttons of your top being opened

୨୧ the white top you decided today was the perfect day to wear, and without a bra no less

୨୧ but in your shivering and embarrassment you forgot all about that minor detail

୨୧ oh but izuku didn’t forget it

୨୧ he imagined that water droplet sliding down the valley of your breasts underneath your blouse and gliding over your stomach, almost getting lost in your belly button, only to disappear under your waistband

୨୧ he imagined what it would be like to lick the droplets off your hot skin

୨୧ he scanned back up and noticed the tight see-through material of your shirt hugging your tits, dipping into every crevice leaving nothing to the imagination

୨୧ he sees the dark hue of your nipples from behind the cloth, along with the 2 little peaks your buds have made due to the cold air circulating in his house bonus points if you have your nipples pierced, i’m jealous of you

୨୧ he pulls his gaze away when he sees a violent shiver rack your body

୨୧ he leaves for a moment and comes back with a warm towel, almost sad to see the sight of your tits gone but your comfort and warmth was more important to him

୨୧ he tells you to dry off a bit as he goes and gets the shower started for you

୨୧ you’re thanking him yet apologizing for the trouble as you’re gonna make him late for work

୨୧ and he’s denying any negative comments coming out your mouth saying that he technically is at work as helping people is his job and he wouldn’t be a good hero if he didn’t help someone right in front of him

୨୧ he tells you to take as long as you need getting washed up and getting the temperature back in your body

୨୧ he doesn’t have time to think about how you’re just a few feet and a closed bathroom door away from him, naked ~ as he picks out the smallest pieces of clothing he has in his closet

୨୧ he finds an old t-shirt and shorts from his high school days and lays them on his bed telling you through the door that when you’re done he has clothes waiting for you

୨୧ you don’t take too long getting washed up as you know he needs to get to work so only about 10 minutes later you’re walking into the living to izuku sitting on the couch watching the movie his kid wanted to put on

୨୧ he sees you come in from his peripherals as his heart damn near stops seeing you in his clothes

୨୧ the clothes were so small they couldn’t fit him any longer, not after getting a post-high school growth spurt and getting broader due to his hero work

୨୧ but the fact that his already small clothes were swallowing you just did something to him

୨୧ blame it on his size kink he don’t know he has quite yet

୨୧ he pulls himself together to tell you that he threw your soiled clothes in the wash before he says his good byes to his kiddo

୨୧ he’s heading out the door while you and his son are telling him to be safe out there when just as he’s about to leave you call out to him

୨୧ he’s turning around maybe a lil too fast, but he sees you with an umbrella in your hand telling him that you ‘wouldn’t want him to make the same mistake you did’ with a cute bashful smile on your face that almost made him call in sick to work

୨୧ but he knew he couldn’t do that

୨୧ screw being number one hero and all that

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

୨୧ a few weeks later he comes home from work, tired af as one would

୨୧ but he gets to the door and sees you and his kiddo waiting for him inside

୨୧ you have a cake in your hands and his little one pops one of those little confetti canons at his father with a loud “happy birthday”

୨୧ he’s a lil shocked, a lil surprised, but in a good way

୨୧ he looks at you

୨୧ “well kiddo told me it was your birthday and with a quick little google search i confirmed it to be true. and i felt bad that you had to work on your birthday so we decided to bake you a cake while you were gone and wait for you to get home.” you said softly

୨୧ he had totally forgotten it was his birthday but if it being his birthday meant that he could see you in a little apron waiting for him to come in the door …

୨୧ damn he wished it was his birthday everyday

୨୧ y’all move into the kitchen to start cutting the cake and as you’re plating slices you lean down to the little one and tell him to ‘go get the birthday card he made for daddy’

୨୧ and izuku who wasn’t quite paying attention is like “hmm?” and you just like look at him

୨୧ and he’s like, “oh i thought- you were calling for me-“

୨୧ and you’re like mf, i don’t call you daddy yet

୨୧ but yall just kinda like awkwardly get past it and move on when the child comes running in with his folded construction paper with a green stick figure on the front labeled ‘dad’

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

୨୧ it all leads up to the day about a month later when you arrive at their home to no sign of the kid

୨୧ and you’re like ~ wtf? he always comes to greet me at the door with a hug and he’s not doing that

୨୧ and you’re looking in the kitchen and the living room to see no sign of the child

୨୧ when you’re about to head into his room to see if he somehow decided to sleep in today, izuku comes out his room

୨୧ and you’re like, where’s the kid?

୨୧ and he’s like, oh, i meant to tell you that my mom came by just a few minutes ago and decided to take him out for the day

୨୧ so you’re like, okay, should i just go home then?

୨୧ and he’s like, you could but i just so happen to have the day off and i think it would be nice if we got to spend some time together, without the kid around

୨୧ and you’re like, what am i gonna do ?? say no ?!

୨୧ so y’all go out for coffee, take a walk around the park, and then go out for lunch before going back to his house to watch like a movie or whatever

୨୧ y’all get back home and he sits on the couch scrolling through streaming sites looking for a movie and you’re coming back from the bathroom

୨୧ when you’re walking to the couch, your foot catches one of the kid’s toys that was lying on the floor causing you to trip and stumble forward

୨୧ izuku moves to catch you causing you to fall into his chest and practically on top his lap

୨୧ you’re out of breath from the sudden adrenaline spike but the close proximity between the two of you isn’t making it any easier to catch said breath

୨୧ neither of y’all are moving, just staring into each others eyes as he quietly asks “are you alright?”

୨୧ his warm breath dancing across your face as you give him a light nod

୨୧ his eyes suddenly move to your lips and out of his mouth comes the words you thought you’d never hear

୨୧ “can i kiss you?”

୨୧ and with a split glance to his lips you’re nodding fervently

୨୧ not soon enough his lips are on yours : plump, warm, and soft ~ tasting of the coffee and the mint gum he chewed after lunch

୨୧ you two pull apart reluctantly but he sets his forehead against yours as he catches his breath

୨୧ “please tell me you feel the same way for me as i do for you?” he whispers

୨୧ you bite your lip, “and how do you feel about me?”

୨୧ “like i want to hold you. kiss you. and come home to you everyday. not just as a babysitter.”

୨୧ “is that all?” you ask

୨୧ “i have a few other things i feel about you but i think it’s too early to tell you.”

୨୧ you link your arms around his neck and play with the stubble of emerald that is his undercut, “i wanna know.” you whisper.

୨୧ he’s like, are you sure…. you won’t think it’s inappropriate ?

୨୧ and you reassure him cuz little does he know of the countless nights you laid with your hand between your thighs imagining it was him getting you off

୨୧ “well uh- i-i really wanna fuck you.” he quietly admits

୨୧ you readjust your position to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs

୨୧ “how?” you ask

୨୧ “how what?” he replies as he tentatively places his hands lightly on your waist

୨୧ “how,” you start, leaning down to ghost your lips atop his, “do you wanna fuck me?”

୨୧ his breath stutters, something about those words coming out of your mouth

୨୧ he’s quiet for longer than you would like, “c’mon tell me” you whine, moving your lips from his mouth, down his jaw, and along his neck

୨୧ his breath quickens, soon letting out a low groan when you stumble upon his sweet spot

୨୧ you pull away causing him to almost whine, “start talking ~ tell me how you wanna fuck me.”

୨୧ “well f-first i wanna kiss all over you. your cheeks. your neck. your hands. i w-wanna feel your warm soft skin under my lips.”

୨୧ he pauses a bit but you urge him to continue

୨୧ “i wanna play with your tits. i wanna suck on your nipples. i’ve wanted to ever since you came in soaked by the rain that day.”

୨୧ as he gets more confident, his voice gets deeper, raspier, laced with lust

୨୧ “i wanna kiss all the way down your body until i reach that sweet pussy of yours, i’ve been dying to get a taste.

୨୧ you let out a low moan into his collar bone, “and then what?”

୨୧ “then after i’ve made you come on my tongue a few times, i wanna stuff you full of my cock. not stopping until i breed you. gave you a baby of your own since you’re so perfect with kiddo already.”

୨୧ “i wanna make you a mommy.”

୨୧ you gasp, your breaths coming out in short hurried puffs as you come up from sucking on his neck

୨୧ “so why don’t you?”

୨୧ he’s frozen

୨୧ “why don’t you fuck your child in me, daddy?”

୨୧ and just like that whatever submissive izuku moment you had going on, is gone

୨୧ he’s on top of you in seconds, squishing you into the couch cushions beneath you as he does just what he said he would do, and then some

yoooooo, happy belated birthday to the actual love of my life. i cried like three times over him yesterday. i hope he’s doing good.

also i’m not gonna sit here & pretend i know anything about how the japanese choose to name their offspring so that’s why kiddo is nameless

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

[embracethemadmess]

Dreaming with the Witch- #2b - just Marc

Story summary:  Steven is refusing to sleep at night again, but this time he also doesn’t want to front during the day, so Marc has to cover for him at work, running on little to no sleep every day, straining his voice on -quite bad- British soft accent. If that wasn’t enough, there’s this third alter still actively moon knighting without the other two knowing. All this leaves the body completely exhausted and, well, on the edge of falling apart. One time the system meets a witch willing to help heal both the body and the disturbed minds in it.

Chapter summary: Steven disappears for a day.

word count: 4075

previous part

masterpost

spotify playlist

Chapter notes: I can't write flirting scenes, sorry you have to witness that. I'm gonna do beta reading tomorrow after work, so I'm sorry in advance if there are any mistakes.

Enjoy and don't hesitate to share your thoughts :).

Disclaimers: I do not have D.I.D., therefore my story should not be treated as a trustful source of knowledge on the topic. I strongly encourage you all to learn about it from actual systems or other resources. Mirrors and all that reflections theme are used as a way to connect the story to the TV show. If you notice any mistakes on my side, please let me know so I can fix them.

* * ☾ * *

"Okay, okay, sorry!" A high-toned squeak is torn out from the woman held by him while the fingernails of her free hand dig desperately into his bare forearm's skin, leaving half-moon indents on it. 

Although Marc feels as if his brain is clouded, he disentangles her from the armlock instantly. Worrisomeness hides in crinkles between his brows as they furrow, and in the amber of his eyes now focused on her face after he put his hands on her shoulder and turned her around so she could face him, looking for any sign of distress in her facial expression. The tension in his body increases a notch when he realises the woman is, as a matter of fact, a girl. Young adult. Adolescent girl. Practically a child. He lets out an almost laboured grunt at that, a few of his own curses directed at him echoing in his mind. 

"Jesus, what was that?" The girl - Anna, he discovers after taking a quick glance at the name tag on her beige blouse - inquiries, a breathy cry in her voice loud and clear for his ears to hear being one part of the remnant of the abuse he's deployed on her, the other making itself present in massaging sore elbow and exercising a mild shoulder rotation.

"Please, accept my dearest apologies," Marc begins, his voice adopting Steven's tone and manner as if a default setting, his face not so cooperative, though, remaining more of his own than his alter's which he can tell even without seeing himself simply by not feeling the slightest tug of a single muscle. His wording choice, moreover, surprises both him and the girl in front of him, but it doesn't stop him from continuing, "I didn't mean to cause you any harm, it's just, I-" he stutters just a tad, hoping it would grant him some bonus points, and then focuses his stare at everything but her eyes, scratching his beard in a clear sign of discomfort. "I was in my head straight up fuming at this bloody stupid machine over here, and your touch caught me off guard."

As a response to his elaborated apology, Anna gives him as much as a simple shrug of her shoulders which almost earns her his scoff. Almost, because by the time he opens his mouth to express his discontent with her reaction, she muses:

"Should've guessed it myself." And as she gets no reply, with Marc just standing there, expression as blank as the circles dark around the redness of his waterlines, eyes now closer to the shade of onyx rather than amber, and plump lips closed in a straight line in between salt-and-pepper thick growth, she feels the urgent need to add: "I mean, with the way you always flinch when something unexpected or louder than you'd want happens around you, I figure I kind of deserved this whole American arrest hold."

After admitting that, her shoulders shrug again and then a devilish grin plays on her lips as she takes one step closer to him, barely leaving any space between the two of them. Marc's brows knit marginally at the movement, making the permanent crease in the skin between them even more prominent, but he doesn't back away from her as he examines her face in silence; freckle by freckle, acne scar by brownish patch, rosacea's redness blemishing her fair skin. So young, he makes a notice in the privacy of his thoughts when she cocks her head a little to be able to burn a hole in the lion's wrinkle of his with the sky blue of her gaze.

"Nevertheless, I think I also deserve a tight hug, eh?" Anna murmurs, later on drawing her lower lip between her teeth and keeping it there long enough for him to notice. "To ease the pain, you know, you're not exactly the weakest man alive" comes in addition, as if she tried to excuse her suggestion. 

With a faint, faked smile Marc nods in agreement.

"I guess s-" he trails off mid-sentence and instead nearly chokes on the air she seems to punch out of his lungs with the force she uses to pound into his embrace, enclasping his neck, giving him no other choice than to wrap his own arms around her waist.

Marc swallows the dryness in his throat at the sudden realisation that this, the hug, feels wrong. For many reasons, he tries to tell himself that the one being most crucial is the fact this girl is significantly younger than him and barely knows him, while he doesn't know her at all, even if she's not aware of it, therefore she shouldn't be this comfortable near him. 

However, the truth is, and the American resigned himself to the fact some time ago, it feels wrong because it's not Steven. For both of them, actually, it should be Steven but it isn't, and that aspect of the embrace lies heavy on Marc's heart, trying to sink it deep into the melancholy of memories of the one hug that's been engraved in his memory for months now and the one that came to his mind every time someone tried to give him something similar.

He would call himself a narcissist, yearning for the touch of his own body, if it wasn't for the fact Steven carried it differently to an extreme degree; to the point where it felt like a completely separate person. His touch was so tender whereas Marc's was firm, his was dripping hesitation when Marc's distinguish itself by confidence, and finally - Steven brought warmth, trust and love where Marc could only provide safety. 

Physically, they were also different. Marc was always straight as a ruler, unable to stoop, his posture always asserting dominance. Used to deploy an iron-clad grip, muscles constantly tense and on the verge of ache. Steven wasn't like that, no. There was a gentleness in the way he slouched a little, with his shoulders and bladder loose, prioritising everyone else's comfort above his own. Absurdly naive sometimes in his belief that everyone was good at heart, some people simply lacking something in their life if they showed other, cooler shades of their personalities. Letting them walk all over him due to refusing to accept the fact that some of them were just pricks and no amount of kindness would ever change that. It all showed up in the way Marc was constantly keeping his guards up while Steven walked around wearing his heart on his sleeve.

But when it came to holding his close ones in his arms, Steven changed diametrically; his grip strong and desperate, squeezing their body with his own, locking them in an unbreakable hold for what could last an eternity. Marc was his opposite; he would wrap his arms around another person with a sense of distance, not letting them cling to his body completely, so he could still have a good chance of blocking an attack or escaping. 

Of course, with Steven in his arms, he threw all his tactics away without batting an eyelid, letting his body join the battle over who consumed who in the tight embrace they shared twice. 

Marc still could recall his scent as he buried his nose in the British one's hair after quickly pressing his lips to his temple while Steven occupied himself with clenching his fists on the material of Marc's t-shirt, squidging the meat on his back and possibly bruising his shoulderblades in the process. The world around them seemed to stop spinning for a while, time frozen on a single second stretching to hours. Not an ounce of spare space between the two of them to fit the thinnest needle. Their knuckles white as snow on the tan skin of their hands, with veins more visible and bluer than usual. It felt like home when Steven was blowing hot air down the side of Marc's neck, his sharp jaw nudged into the American's collarbone. Desperate gaps that were making them both feel dizzy made the whole experience even more special, and Marc quickly decided at that moment that it was once in a lifetime experience no one ever would be able to replicate for him.

And yet, Steven did it again, holding him tight enough to steal his breath if he wanted to, not so long after the first time. His Steven. The incredibly stubborn, righteous Steven who refused to kill a hippopotamus and hijack an ancient boat to save his life.

Ever since then, no one could make Marc feel quite the same as he felt in his alter's arms. Not even his wife, and he loved and cared for her deeply. Nothing seemed to taste even remotely similar, at some point Marc resigned to this thought. 

Even so, he still can't help the immense tug of longing deep in his chest as he gives Steven's coworker a few friendly strokes on her lower back, earning a satisfied purr from her.

"Can't believe you finally let me do this, after so long?" she says with her fingers buried in his hair, playfully curling some locks at the back of his head around her finger. Marc stiffens at the sound of this statement, and as he slowly pulls away from her, he feels his heart sinking, joining the little tight knot already formed in his stomach.

"What'd you say?" He asks just for the sake of hearing it again, already knowing the answer and processing it in his mind.

"You never let anyone touch you, honestly I was starting to worry you'll never give up and let me hug you. I suppose you like using force beforehand, I don't know, some kind of hot and cold behaviour," the girl starts mumbling so fast the words blur together and it makes Marc's brain feel like it's about to explode trying to make sense of what is happening, "Hey, I don't judge, of course, I just didn't take you as an 'into bondage' kinda guy, know what I mean?"

"Anna" is all he's able to say as the begging of a headache builds up a familiar pressure behind his eyes. An ice-cold feeling shoots up his spine when the realization of the meaning behind her words strikes him with the force of a thunderbolt, and he lets go of her in a matter of seconds, glaring at her in unspoken reprimand that only he knows hides stupefaction behind its sharpness. She looks surprised, he can tell by the way her blue eyes widen and a faint blush makes its way to her cheeks and nose, but she's mainly confused, and to be honest, so is Marc. He only agreed to this hug because he thought it was a norm for her and Steven; a standard greeting they gave each other every day at work. He left the safety of his comfort zone because of this misunderstanding, letting unwanted memories get to him when he needed them the least. All because of a girl who decided to take advantage of his mistake.

He lets out an exasperated sign.

"Listen, I need you to understand that this was a one-time thing," he starts, his voice is soft but firm, letting her know he's not mad at her, but he's also not kidding with what he has to say, "I attacked you without reason, and you deserved some kind of a remedy, eh? But it doesn't change the fact that if I say I don't wish for you to touch me, I mean it. For as long as I don't voice out that I've changed my mind. You heard me?" as he asks that question, he points at her with an expectant look in his eyes, actually meeting hers for the first time in the entire duration of their conversation.

"Loud and clear, Steven." Anna nods while answering him, and at that, he shakes his head, more to himself than at her actions, and settles himself behind the still not fully operative cash register, muttering under his breath something alongside the words:

"Something to keep in mind for the future, yeah?"

* * ☾ * *

She lives up to that promise for approximately two hours. 

Two long hours, or not long enough, Marc can't really decide. The entire room seems to be spinning as he tries to mimic Anna's actions around the gift shop, discreetly peeking at what she inserts into the system while scanning merchandise, hesitantly serving some older clients (which he chooses on purpose, hoping their age would help them be more patient with his pace than younger people), and sneaking around the room, pretending to be tidying up the store just so he can avoid the stubborn cash register. As he's picking up different figurines, puzzles and books, he actually takes short moments to inspect them in his late attempt to get to know what kind of job Steven deals with on daily basis. Obviously, he's ignoring the fact that half of the letters on the books' covers are barely visible to him without his reading glasses - that goes without question. In his opinion he doesn't need them, glasses are for the other guy, and he does just fine without them. And if his eyes start hurting after the first hour of having to read small letters on everything, he tells himself there's surely another reason for it. Thus, he settles on rubbing his eyelids every five minutes as a solution to the problem.

When the clock on his watch hits 12:10 pm and he's standing next to the scanner with the fingers of one hand curled around a paper cup halfway filled with coffee and the other fidgeting with a stray wiry basket with some cheap bracelets in it, that's when Anna shoots her shot again.

With one smooth move, she places herself in the small space between him and the counter, and Marc's hand, forced to abandon the basket, is quickly shoved down his front pocket. He raises an eyebrow at her ministrations, not sure what the sinister sparkles in her eyes could mean. The silence around them feels thick on his lips, sounds loud in his ears, and it all makes him uncomfortable, so he tries to step backwards in a desire to regain the sense of personal space, however, he's stopped dead in his tracks by the slender hands on his sweater.

"I know I'm not allowed to touch you," she asks with a sweet, gentle voice, attention directed at one of his sleeves which she finds herself absentmindedly playing with. One of her fingertips accidentally brushes over soft skin there and she feels how the dark hairs on his forearm stand up as a direct result of goosebumps. A ghost of a smirk dances on the corners of her lips as she makes notice of his reaction to her touch, "but you didn't really tell me why. Don't you like me?"

"I-I don't know" comes as an answer, to which confusion settles in her furrowed brows.

"You don't know?" she repeats after him in a form of a question and he only nods in response.

It's true, he doesn't know. Not the slightest idea comes to his mind as to why Steven feels repulsed about his co-worker to a point where he visibly keeps off her touch and makes her aware of that, even. Out of the two of them, Marc is pretty sure he's the one who avoids socialising, with Steven being the one craving it so badly, he's willing to go to a steakhouse, despite being vegan, just to meet up with a girl he had a date scheduled. The American once again regrets not paying attention to his alter's behaviour at work and therefore being left in the dark as to why it seems like for once in his lifetime Steven is running away from human interaction instead of chasing it.

"Listen, Anna. Please, listen to me," he murmurs after putting the coffee cup away and he snaps his fingers to get her attention before putting his hand in the pocket of his pants. "I'm 38, come to that I could very easily be your father," he adds in the hope this excuse will be enough to take the girl's hands off him. Unfortunately, he quickly discovers how wrong he was for thinking it when Anna places her hand on his cheek and focuses on tracing the line of his growth.

"Wouldn't mind calling you daddy, you know." As Marc registers her purr, a cold shiver slides down his spine at her words and for a moment scotomas are taking over his vision. 

"Why would you- it wouldn't make sense, now, would it?" he asks, disorientation painting across his face, and it has Anna chuckling genuinely but Marc continues nevertheless as if she hasn't interrupted him with her reaction. "I meant that I could be your father, I'm old enough to be. I'm not, so there's no-"

"Steven." Her voice takes a demanding tone, yet her expression remains soft. She's looking him straight in the eyes and he's not looking at her at all, glancing at the scanner behind her instead. "See that's why I like you so much."

"You do?"

"I do," nodding, she swipes at his lower lip with her thumb, making him thread his brows in consternation. "You're so awkwardly funny, so adorably unaware, and so freakishly hot with your tan skin, forever exhausted look, and now this," she accentuates her last word, gesturing lazily at his entire frame prior to going back to her rambling, "fuck, you're looking good today. Can't take my eyes off you."

At that moment Marc is too close to passing out, to say the least.

"Sorry. But..." comes from his mouth, he sounds husky and it encourages him to clear his throat while he takes a quick look over the store to check whether there's someone in there save for them. Then his eyes lock with hers, "Are you flirting with me?"

"Been doing it since you first arrived here, thanks for finally noticing." Before, during and after making this statement, she's laughing gently, there's pure joy in her eyes, that he could be sure of. "Bit late to the party, aren't you?" she asks next but she doesn't sound rude. Something in Marc wishes she sounded rude, though, so he could end this conversation. 

"I don't actually do- speak... the language of love. Or whatever." It's obvious he's trying to act as nonchalantly as he possibly can, but nervousness pours out from the tone of his voice. Once again he makes an effort to step away from her.

"Oh, I'd gladly teach you if you let me." A suggestion dripping with something that tells Marc she wanted to sound coquettish, which only adds to his rapidity as he wraps his hands around her wrists and pulls away from her.

"No, thank you," he says, already on his way to the store's entrance, "Be right back, need to use the loo."

Needless to say, he doesn't return.

His head is throbbing agonisingly while he's making his way across the hallway in search of the toilets. Stroking through the mess of wild curls, he scratches at his scalp hoping to find relief in mild pain. Words can't seem to describe the utter confusion that ties a knot in his abdomen.

He looks over his shoulder when cautiously scanning the space around him, as if expecting Anna to follow him for some reason, and when he makes sure she isn't, that's when he bumps into something, or rather someone, and if it makes him jump a little, he will take this secret to the grave with him.

"Steven!"

"Mr- Security guard," Marc breathes indiscriminately, just to hawk as soon as the elder man knits his brows at him, and immediately corrects himself, "Mr Henry" comes from him right after glancing at the man's nametag. "Mr Henry."

"I'm old, Steven, not deaf" the guard snaps at him, Marc winces, even though he doesn't show that on his face, and the older one sighs without any particular reason. "Where you headed, eh?"

"The loo."

"It's the opposite way, kid."

"Oh. Right."

For a moment they resign to the dead silence of the awkward situation. Both of them cross their arms on their chests, Marc hawks two or three more times, and somewhere between the second and the third time he switches his pose to staying straight and rubbing the nape his nape. Meantime Henry absentmindedly taps the silver clasp of his belt with the fingertip of his index.

"So... How are you?" Marc begins, trying to sound as friendly as he can, but trails off as soon as he sees Henry's hand waving at him dismissively. 

"You know I'm not a fan of small talks, Steven," he admits, making Marc instantly like him, "Might wanna hurry if you really need the loo, they are closing the museum." 

After that, Henry is already continuing his walk across the hallway, leaving Marc even more confused than he already was. The younger looks at the dock of his watch and his eyebrows furrow for gods know which time this day. His stare chases the slowly pacing co-worker, and before he even acknowledges it, he shouts after him.

"Any particular reason for that?"

"I don't know, something in the air is killing people again and the authorities told people to sit their arses at home. It's like the damn pandemic all over again..."

The guard is still grumbling as he slowly disappears behind the corner, but Marc doesn't listen to him anymore. He lets out another exasperated sigh, trying to wrap his lost head around what's going on exactly.

"What pandemic - never mind, actually," he adds a blurred fuck this day in his mind, then gives up in favour of making his way out of the museum with the heels of his palms digging ruthlessly into his eye sockets.

The ex-mercenary doesn't go back home, though, instead, he drags his feet to another familiar place that is the storage locker. Again, on his way not even once does he look around, a part of him secretly wishing for a deep hood in which he could hide his face. Forever grateful that the word seemed to have spread about the lockdown, the streets and pavements are almost empty, with only a few lost souls here and there rushing homes and a distant siren of an ambulance reaching his ears. Marc detached himself from the external stimuli, with half-lidded eyes watching the route before him but not really seeing anything peculiar.

The warm light of a single bulb welcomes him in the well-known emptiness of military green boxes stocked neatly along the walls, right after he's greeted by the guy working at the reception and given the key to locker 43. With a prolonged glance around the room, he makes notice of the artefacts of his old life - some clothes, emergency supplies and a cot in the corner with a modest, flat pillow on it. 

Weirdly enough, tin walls blurrily reflecting his body, with the pervasive order of the room coming from every single thing stored in it, somehow manage to ease his every nerve, spreading a sense of peace through every limb.

With a quiet sigh, he makes his way across the room until he's standing at the side of the cot. He sits up on the edge, takes his sneakers off to set them aside, lined up with the box standing next near, and lays himself on the flat, a bit rough even, surface.

He stays in late, just lying there and staring at the ceiling.

If he takes the pillow from underneath him and puts it on his face for a brief moment somewhere along the way, there is no one with him to witness it.

If he lets himself scream once or twice in the same pillow, there is no one there to hear it as well.

If he passes away from enfeeblement, he also comes to on his own, still able to deny he's tired, in case someone asks him about it.

He doesn't feel Steven, which in this precise case is good, too. Other than that, he wants him back already. Still, he does nothing to trigger him back to the front.

Even as a single tear carves its way along the crow's feet, down the side of his cheek.

He's not tired.

[onlymexsarah]

Promise pt.3 || Kaz Brekker

Summary: Y/n starts to work for Kaz, and Dirtyhands can keep the promise he made years go. What will happen when the admiration he had as a child turn in something else?

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x grisha!Reader

Warnings: minor spoiler of Six of Crows, my english.

A/N: my favourite siblings are together! Honestly I wanted to write a chapter just with them and exploring their story, but it would be boring for you I guess, or not🤔 let me know if you want a bonus chapter with them👀 Didyou like this part? Do you think Kaz will tell her the true or she'll have to find out on her own?

PT.1 - PT. 2 - PT. 4 - PT. 5

MAIN MASTERLIST

He didn't know why, but his heart didn't find peace until she walked inside the Crows Club again the next day with a bag and the hood on. He would never forgive himself if he had let the only chance to know her flew away. Still, maybe it would have been better for her to take the first ship and run as away as possible from Ketterdam.

"Fine, I'll work with you as long as I need to."

He could easily find a way to bind her to him as long as he liked if he wanted to, but he simply refused to think about it. She spent her life running away from men who wanted to kill her, and in the Barrel she would find the same thing, but Kaz would kill everyone who would try to touch her.

He couldn't offer her safety, but he could provide her protection.

"Not as big as the one at the Little Palace I imagine, but still comfortable." she said looking around her new room.

Little Palace, another question about her past that he noted in his mind.

"From what everyone knows, Jan Van Eck doesn't have a daughter. So what is your explanation?" he said standing in the doorway. He had already made the connection in his head.

It was obvious that someone like Jan Van Eck would keep a grisha daughter hid from the world for shame, and the handkerchief she gave him years ago proved she was the sister of Wylan Van Eck, the boy who was working for him pretending to be someone else, but Kaz Brekker had to pretend to know nothing about her, as if they didn't meet years ago.

"My father didn't want a daughter. I was different from the other children and a some point mother sent me to a school outside Kerch and for him it was easier saying that I died of firepox, but as you can see I'm pretty much alive." she shrugged letting the story rolling out from her mouth as she had already said it a thousand time.

It was her mantra, he thought studying her.

"Jan Van Eck will be surprise to know that I have his death daughter then." the words came out before he could think about them.

She let out an humorless laugh; cold and sharp as the blade she took out from her bag. "My presence here won't bring you any advance toward my father, Dirtyhands." he felt a grip in his heart when he heard the way she said his name. No, he would never tell her that he was the child she met, he decided. "Go on, tie my arms and legs. Keep me in a dark room until my father will pay you. Oh, you'll have to keep me alive for long trust me. I don't know much about lovely parents, but I am pretty sure that a father who cares for his daughter doesn't pretend she's dead."

She had walked closer to him, spitting her words one by one in his face. With his own surprise, he didn't step back. He kept looking at her eyes, flames in them. Maybe the same flames she was suppressing in that moment.

He saw no hope in them. No sweetness, no caring and no love. Rock and fire were the exact words to describe what they were. She gave him hope long time ago, and now he could give her the same. He knew she was in town to see her brother, and he could make her purpose easier.

"Come with me, you are going to me the other Dregs." he turned around and walked toward the stairs with his cane.

She scoffed but followed him thinking about kicking his cane and let him fall.

She met Anika and Rotty, then he brought her in a little room full of strange ingredients. She though it was a lab, but when her eyes spotted a bush of red curly hair her heart jumped.

"He is our demo boy, Wylan." the boy raised his head and widened his eyes at the sight of the girl. "Wylan she is our new member, Y/n."

Kaz Brekker moved to stay against a wall looking, with a little smirk, the two siblings studying each other. The grisha girl was the first to wake up from her though and walked toward the boy smiling.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you." she didn't know what her little brother was doing for Dirtyhands, but she understood that Wylan didn't say his real name so she would play his game as long as he needed.

"I-I'm W-Wylan...yes, Wylan." they shook hands and she gave him a wink that Kaz couldn't see with the first true smile she did since months.

"Wylan is the youngest and the most civilized one. It shouldn't be a problem getting along with him." Kaz said swiping away his smirk. "You are free to go and see whatever you want. When I'll have a job I'll call you."

Kaz Brekker walked away, well aware that the siblings wanted to be alone.

"I didn't know you where back in Kerch!" whispered happily Wylan walking around the table toward his sister.

"I was looking for you, but Kaz found me before I could even disappoint father." she joked. "What about you? Why you are working for Dirtyhands?"

"Father..." he wasn't sure if he should tell her the true. If she knew that their father had tried to kill him nothing would stop her from burn their father's house with him inside. "He sent me away. Alys, his new wife is pregnant."

"Poor girl, she always offered me my favourite cupcakes when I came to visit you." she didn't know if her brother had made a wife choice when he decided to work with the Dregs, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I missed you." Wylan said with a sweet smile.

Without saying another words she hugged him with all the strengh she had. They were of the same heigh, but his curly hair made him taller of few inches.

His arms were around her back while she kept her around her shoulders, smelling his perfume again. Home, she though happily. "I missed you too. From now on, we'll never split up, never again."

Those words were a promise. She would never let her brother alone again, not with the dangerous that Ketterdam had to offer.

"I'll have money, a lot of them, and I'll find you. I'll hire guards, everywhere in the city, and you'll live peacefull, without have to worry about anyone anymore. Bring your brother, I'll protect him too."

The little boy inside Kaz was jumping with joy. He was keeping his promise; the Van Eck siblings were gathered and both under his protection.

I have you, Fire Girl. You are not going to be alone anymore.

***

He had money, a lot of them. He had found her and her brother. He had a job, not a legal one but still a job. The Dregs were the guards he had promised her long time ago, she could walk around their zone without problem and with her hood down. He was following his plan, his promise, so what went wrong?

Which step he understimated that brought him there? Why he felt addicted to her smile? Why he found her laugh the most beautiful melody in the world? Why he felt a grip in his stomach everytime she hugged someone of the dregs but never him? He knew that if she tried he would probably hit her with his cane, but still.

He wished to be able to make her smile as Wylan did. He found himself thinking about her more time at the day that he liked to admit. When she was doing a job he found himself as worried as Wylan, with the difference that he would never show it.

Having those kind of thoughs, feelings, wasn't in his plan, and Dirtyhands always followed his plans. Even when they went wrong he always found a solution, but this time he felt like he was falling in a hole with nothing to grap on.

She kept her identity hid. No one knew who she was and no one knew she and Wylan were related. No one seemed surprise to see how fast the girl and the demo boy had became close, just like sister and brother. The similarity was there, but she had something that made her different from everyone there.

Kaz knew it was her grisha power that made her like that.

No word about her power had left her mouth since then. She used her skills in every job, but Kaz wondered if she used her flames sometime when no one would notice. Maybe to clog someone pistol, to keep her meal hot even when she was late or to warm Kaz's coffee when he forgot it on his desk.

The last one made her smile everytime she did it. She didn't know why she cared about the Bastard of the Barrel at all, but she couldn't help it.

Maybe it was because without knowing he had given her and her brother a safe house. Maybe because even after all the horrible things he kept doing, she saw some good in him that was worth fighting for.

The grisha girl didn't know what happened to Kaz Brekker. She didn't know where his touch avertion came from, or the ghost she saw in his eyes when he though no one was watching; but it didn't stop her to feel something for Dirtyhands.

From the moment she understood his boundaries, she found different ways to stay close to him. It wasn't a secret how little Kaz slept, so once she learnd his favourite coffee he would find it on his desk every morning, and night too when he needed to stay awake. She trained with Inej to climb buildings like she did so she could always stay close to Kaz when he had his meetings; she trained with Jesper to learn to be as good as him with pistols so that she could shoot from the roof to whoever tried to attack Kaz, and she made sure to never meet Nina Zenik, the only person in Ketterdam who could recognize her as a grisha.

She became his shadow. No one spoke about Kaz Brekker without her eavesdropping; no one tried to attack Kaz Brekker without her knowing and fighting. He was keeping her only family safe, and she was going the same with him.

She didn't mind the jobs that Kaz gave her, until the last one.

"Why me?!" she asked defensive.

They were in Kaz's office: she, Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Anika and Rotty talking about the next job. They would have to attend at a gala where their mark would be and see with who he was close and with who he would talk.

"Because I need Inej on the roof. Nina would be recognizable and Anika...let's say she's not the most femminile girl around." Kaz said with an ironic smile at the end. Anika murmured 'of course I am not.' beside her not helping. "Beside I will be there too. Not together. Jesper will be at the door as a guard, Wylan will pretend to be a waiter and Rotty and Anika will wait us outside ready to bring us away. We will speak with everyone approaching us but with the mark. We can't let him notice us."

She crossed her arms thinking about it for a moment. She knew she couldn't say no, or well, she could but she would follow Kaz even in hell and back.

"Fine, but you are going to own me a dance, and you better not stepping on my feet." she walked outside the office needing desperatly something to burn.

[thefanbasewhore]

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for a week now 😫 how about a hc with Din accidentally walking in on reader taking a shower (but only sees their back or smn and reader doesn’t notice him) and he’s extremely awkward around them after that? Bonus points if they’re not together but there’s definitely ✨ something ✨ between them 🤧

gf, I love this idea 💞 get ready for flustered shy tin can 🤧 I wrote this very quickly probably doesn't have as much detail as it should but none the less hope you enjoy it! (I didn't do a taglist for this because I'm on mobile atm, but I am still taking request for head cannons while I finish the small bit of my clan din AU so it's coming soon to anyone who is wondering :))

Summary: Din sees reader back for the first time and gets really really shy about it.

Warning/Content: I really just had fun with this one, nothing sad or fluffy. Mentions of ass cheeks and nipples. Embarrassed Din.

It was late, very late when the Mandalorian managed to return, bounty in hand but not for long as the hissing of carbonate freezes him without worry.

Din starts to pull at his armour to remove it, not really caring as it falls to the ground with a slight thump until all he's left in is the dark tunic and matching pants with one goal in mind: a shower and sleep.

He's careful, tip toeing around the scattered toys left by his son, reminding him to pick them up in the morning before you or the baby manage to face plant into the floor of the crest.

Fingers push the curtain of the make shift room to the side to meet a green, curled up ball. The blankets are tucked under, three pillow per his request on each side of him, slow low breaths fall from his slightly parted lips, tiny white teeth poke through.

Then press the button to open his own bed except it's empty, he expects the bed hog who's been . He must have been to tired to notice the sound of the shower running, thick, hot steam that cloud the lower belly of the Razor Crest.

The ray of light that comes through the crack of the door attracts him, reflecting off his helmet as he approaches, hand pressing against the door to close it, to insure your privacy but through the thick steam of the room it catches a long part of skin, naked and out on display.

He tries to look away, really does because this is creepy and you deserve better then having him peeping on you like some pervert but the small of your back looks so smooth, two points that form dimples would make the perfect spot for his thumbs to fit while he's -

He shakes his head, face underneath the helmet growing red, his skin hot with the thought of joining you, giving into this we love each other but can never be together game you have going.

The steam wraps around his throat, makes it hard to breath as it fills the helmet. Eyes drop lower and lower to the top of your ass check as he has to hold onto the wall for support, leaning against it but his hand misses it completely, catching himself mid fall but not before his helmet bangs of the metal wall with a loud shriek.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

The Mandalorian is in full panic mode, fingers begin to tremble, trying to decide if he should just run away or answer to your, "Hello?"

His skin is so hot, it burns and pricks, forms small beads of sweet against his forehead as he squeezes his eyes shut. Despite being on the verge of a panic attack he sounds calm.

"It's... just me... I'm sorry, I was going to shower. I didn't want to bother you I was just going to go bed and tripped. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, I'll be out in a second. Didn't know you'd be home, it's early. I had the worst headache, thought a shower would help."

He leans against the wall, hand meeting the metal forehead with a whine as he taps it, idiot, idiot. "Yeah, okay Cyar'ika."

As you clatter through the bathroom, turning the water off and drying yourself he's starting to recover from his embarrassment, it sounds like you believed him but he nervously waits and he's glad he does.

You step out of the shower with just a towel that barely covers you, it's pushed tightly across your chest but just enough that he can see the the way your body reacts to the change of temperature, nipples hardening almost instantly. The towel leaves little to the imagination and it makes him want to see more but all he does instead is snap his gaze back up to your face before mumbling something about going to sleep and walking past you to close the door.

When he returns he finds you in clothes, tucked comfy into the blankets of the bed, it's dark, you made sure for when he returned from the shower he could just take the helmet off to go to sleep.

"The baby was miserable today.. wouldn't let me sleep." Din doesn't reply, just lets out a small sound from his chest, he turns to face you except he's greeded with nothing but darkness. "Head still hurts though, I'm going to try and sleep."

"Goodnight Cyar'ika, sweet dreams."

The next morning Din wakes up to an empty bed, it's usual after a bounty, you wake up with the baby to let him rest no matter how much he tells you it's fine, but who knows when the last time he's slept a full night.

Feet follow the sound of babbling and cooing, followed by your calming voice. The baby instantly changes as he sees his father, happy for his return as he waddles and pulls on his pant leg with grabby hands.

"Hi, pal." Eyes shift over to you as he lifts his son, mixing a small bowl of fruit together for which he is guessing is for the child that presses his fingers against his neck, curling a small piece of hair that peaks from under the helmet. "Does your back feel better?"

At that very moment he is so glad the heavy, lousy piece of beskar hides his face as is hits up ablaze, visibly stiffening as you tilt your head in his direction. He clears his throat, "I.. um. I.. meant your head."

He's choked up, fumbling words as pure lava sets in his chest, throat closing. He's nervous, caught red handed as he notices the cocky smile against your lips.

"You look nervous Din." You're playing with him, enjoying this moment that makes the man seem so very human. Sometimes it's hard to remember when he looks so unhuman, but the way his chest blushes under the white shirt, free hand nervously fiddles the hem of the shirt behind his back, can't speak much like last night he was too busy staring at you to notice you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror. "My back feels very fine, would you like to see or did you see enough yesterday?"

Before your hands could even reach the bottom of the t-shirt he is walking away, defeating mumbling something along the lines of. "That's not funny."

[idv-news-boi]

-> Laurence's Journal Entries {Part 3}

Journal #21 {Who's this sassy, lost child ...?} @/vthekidfromtheforest

James... It seems the kids in this manor really like Akihiko- Like... way too much..

We recently just met some kid called "V" (shows a profile pic of V from the manor's files) turns out that's Jane's child,,, I thought Jane was too young for adoption papers- but as long as they're happy, sure! Not my business anyway-

Though that's not the real issue,,,,- Is just- this kid doesn't stop clinging on poor Akihiko who's kindly telling that he has to leave-

JDDJBDDJDJN Sorry,,, his situation amuses me a bit,,,- 🤣

I was trying to ask the kid kindly,,,! but she ended up threatening me...- rude lil one...

I ended up tricking her and hoisted Akihiko onto my shoulder before running away- She ended up crying as Akihiko waved rjfbfb- I felt a bit bad for the champ... A bit.

Journal #22 {Promoting the Showman's Profile~} @/idv-ask-the-showman

James,,, i thought I was dreaming at first- but i just met a circus veteran! Bonus point,,, he's a handsome, innovative ringmaster~

Oops- that slipped~!

Though, It's unfortunate how he had to face a tragic fate- all i can hope, James, is that he gets to be satisfied someday... And that his lil brother gets to live at the fullest.

Speaking about his brother, the young man sounded pretty familiar from Mr. Flynn's description... But i couldn't lay a finger on it.

Journal #23 {Interesting...} @/idv-avatar

Never thought I was going to meet someone who just got out of the game- and who asked a question related to an alternative identity crisis to think of- it's dark, but very interesting theory to consider...

Mmm... I might just check my insides in how an anatomy of a survivor is like- Who knows it may not be like my body structure from before! Akihiko won't agree with that idea, but I'm sure Eiji will for medical study purposes~

Journal #24 {I flirted with a senior- And it felt great~!}

Yes, you heard me- I committed the Kabedon and tried to flirt on Mr. Lucky Guy- Even asking for his real name... Never knew i would have such level of audacity but here i am~!

He looked so vulnerable and flustered... I couldn't resist- well, i can.... I just simply wanted to see that cute, freckled face upclose~

Journal #25 {Rosie...?}

Whenever i go to the same matches as her, Rosalyn seems to look more nervous when I'm around her,,,-

I really wonder why... And what's she hiding from within her ceramic, doll-like mask... Bet she'll look super adorable with both her face and her adorable lolita dress combined~

But i have the presentiment that there's something she's hiding... That i shouldn't know for some reason.

Journal #26 {I slandered the Vice Clan Leader~}

I simply slandered him by placing a crown in front of his sacred portrait- Akihiko didn't seem pleased at my actions hahaha!

The strange part after is that Angel has been glaring at me the entire lunch break once i got out of the room on my way to the dining room-

Journal #27 {So many papers...}

It seems today is a busy day,,, a lot of people coming, records to keep, news reports to track down,,, Even more paperwork and the dialogue papers i have to practice for my essence-more burden for the Witchita Scholar package essence if added.

Journal #28 {Wow...}

Rosie got chosen to match costume with Mr. Quinn- they look cute together~!

Though, i don't know why I'm feeling a bit jealous... Probably because I ate something bad.

Journal #29 {Angel is being extra again-}

The Spanish boi is really going extra in men like me- I don't even celebrate the holiday much! Though, I'm really enjoying Rosalyn's singing... Sounding beautifully familiar- but Angel kept insisting me to wesr for the occasion if I'm going to attend her concert- ahh,,,

Journal #30 {Holy Wow...}

JIIMMM- I NEVER THOUGHT FEBRUARY WOULD MAKE PEOPLE SO SWEET AND THOUGHTFUL FBRBFBBF,,,!!!!

Some Anon just have me a big pile of gears for my communicator! I'm still halfway searching through the items,,, nothing so far, but it's still a lot to look! At least some of the gears will come in handy for certain tools for Akihiko to fix~!

[hrtiu]

Boba/Fennec prompt: Boba really likes Fennec's hair (or her fingers, or some other, very specific part of her body, whatever you like) and can't stop touching/admiring/playing with it, and she goes from confused that he cares so much about that part to irritated that he Won't Leave Her Alone to embarrassed that he's paying so much frakking attention to her ((to realizing she likes it)) to secretly being endeared by his cuteness. Bonus points if she blushes a lot because of all this and he likes that too ;)

Thanks for the prompt! I think I ended up with something probably a bit angstier than you were thinking, but hopefully you'll still enjoy it! AO3 link.

Every morning Fennec Shand sat down in front of her burnished chromium mirror and did her hair. She started with the main braid down the center of her head, then wove together three smaller braids to either side. Once she’d tied off each individual braid, she plaited all seven together into a dark, twisting tail that reached almost to her waist. Then she took a long string of orange-red fiber and threaded it between the braids at the top of her head, tying them down and securing her bangs as flat against her scalp as possible.

“Why do you always have your hair like that?” Boba asked one morning when she came down for breakfast in Old Jabba’s palace.

“I don’t know. Why is your hair always like that?” Fennec said, helping herself to a generous slice of bantha bacon.

Boba let out a gruff laugh and shook his head. “It must take forever.”

Fennec stabbed her bacon with unnecessary force. “I don’t do it when I’m on an assignment, and beyond that I don’t see that it’s any of your business.”

Boba didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Fennec wondered if maybe he was going to apologize. If he did she’d probably die of shock.

“Hmm,” he grunted, then returned his attention to his breakfast.

It was the reaction Fennec expected, but she found herself both relieved and annoyed. Shaking the contradictory emotions away, she finished her breakfast.

---

Living on Tatooine wasn’t all enforcing Boba’s will and collecting tribute. Boba was a benevolent warlord, and Fennec especially enjoyed being a part of his more generous impulses.

Most recently he’d bequeathed a chunk of his land to a tribe of Tuskens who’d cooperated well with him in the past. The Tuskens saw it as Boba returning the land to them, but regardless, they were going to be its permanent, uncontested tenants. Most of the Tusken Raiders Fennec had met seemed to enjoy their nomadic lifestyle, but this tribe was interested in putting down roots—so long as they could do it on their terms. As a show of good faith, Boba was donating three large moisture vaporators and a system for water storage to the village, and Fennec had been looking forward to the day of their installation for months.

Tribespeople clustered around the massive spires dug into the packed earth beneath the dunes, talking amongst themselves and asking questions to the mechanic who’d come up from Mos Eisley to install the thing. The poor translator Boba had dragged along was working doubletime to sort through the confusion.

Fennec stood next to Boba above the dug-out space, just a little outside of the cluster of activity. She wasn’t here to do much besides reinforce Boba’s involvement in the donation of the generators, but she was enjoying herself nonetheless. A small child whose face wrapping kept coming untucked approached the vaporator and turned the spigot, screeching in delight when clean water poured onto her outstretched hands. Fennec couldn’t help but smile.

A group of young Tusken women approached them, their hoods draped over their faces and ornamental collars jangling against their cloaks as they walked. They thanked Boba in sign language, and he signed back his appreciation with short, stilted hand motions. They giggled at his discomfort with their language, and Boba’s scarred face reddened.

“Great,” he grumbled to Fennec. “I knew that protocol droid wasn’t teaching me right.”

“Calm down,” Fennec said, resting a hand on Boba’s arm. “You’re doing fine. Just let them enjoy themselves.”

Boba frowned, but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. He leaned into her touch, and Fennec felt light and warm.

The girls turned their attention to Fennec, and her contentment turned to unease. One of them pointed to Fennec’s braid and made a twisting motion with her hands, bringing her fingers together as her wrist turned. The other nodded in agreement, adding in a few giggles for good measure.

“Oh, um…” Fennec stuttered, unsure how to respond.

“They’re saying it’s pretty,” the translator from Mos Eisley said, hurrying up the steep hill towards them. “She says your hair is pretty.”

“Ah,” Fennec said. Heat rose in her cheeks, and her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Boba snorted and smirked at her, and she shot him a quick glare before smiling back at the girls. “Thank you, that’s very kind.”

The translator signed Fennec’s response back to them, and they nodded and made gestures of thanks to Boba and Fennec before retreating back to where their tribe clustered around the vaporators.

“So they’re allowed to talk about your hair, but I’m not?” Boba asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes, that’s exactly right,” Fennec said, already heading for the steep slope that would take her down to the rest of the tribespeople. They’d be eating dinner soon, and it wouldn’t do for her and Boba to be late to the table.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t need to make sense,” Fennec said. “It’s just what I want.”

Boba rolled his eyes but followed Fennec down the slope, his steps awkward and careful on the slippery sand.

“Always what you want,” she thought she heard him mutter under his breath, but that could have been the whisper of the winds against the sand.

---

“Shand! We’re going to be late!” Boba yelled at Fennec through the thick door of her room.

His booming voice startled her, and one of her fingers slipped before she was able to tie off the last of her individual braids. “Dammit,” she muttered. “I’m coming!”

“I’m not going to look weak in front of Kanjiklub because you couldn’t stop fiddling with your hair,” he said.

The corners of Fennec’s mouth turned downwards and she saw her own eyes flash in the mirror. “We’re not going to be late. Calm down.”

His boots thudded heavily against the floor as he paced back and forth in front of her door. Fennec’s frown morphed into a full-blown scowl and she made sure to take extra care to get her braid right, taking her time with each knot. Boba needed to learn patience, and he needed to learn that she wasn’t some massiff he could train to do his bidding.

She finished up the braid then moved on to weaving the orange thread around each cord, laser-focused on her task but unhurried in execution.

Boba’s fist pounded on the door once more. “If you don’t hurry it up I’m going to cut off that damned braid myself!”

Fennec froze. She pressed her lips together and stood from her chair, leaving her hair weaving half-finished. She stalked to her bed, pulling her boots and coat off as she did so, then fell into her thick, fluffy blankets.

“...Fen?” Boba asked through the door, though this time his voice was softer—almost chastened.

Fennec held her wrist comm up to her mouth and messaged Dilick Wa, the other bounty hunter Boba kept on retainer at the palace.

“Wa? You there?” she said.

“Yep. What’s up?”

“Meet Boba on the landing pad. You’ll be going with him to meet Kanjiklub tonight.”

“...But weren’t you going-?”

“Just do it.”

She shut off the coms.

---

Lights flickered by for every floor they sank underground, each beam illuminating the red-tan-and-white of Boba’s scarred features. Normally Fennec didn’t like being underground, but on Florrum she might be willing to make an exception. Relief from the unrelenting heat and sulfur-infused dust was worth the loss of adequate sniper perches, in her opinion.

“So,” Boba said. “Arawat Ragistar. Anything else you can you tell me about him?”

Fennec forced a shrug. “Like I said: he’s an assassin. He has plenty of other skills, too. He’s tricky and dangerous, but in general he’ll stick to his word if you pin him to specific commitments.”

Boba nodded slowly. “How is he as a business partner?”

“Wouldn’t know. I only knew him as an assassin.” A heavy pause filled the space between them, and several more floors passed in silence.

“He’s a real bastard,” Fennec said, and she wondered if it was some strange trick of the senses that made her voice sound several decades younger to her ears.

“I know you don’t like him, but we need good connections on Florrum.”

“I know.”

The lift slowly came to a stop, and Fennec tensed as the doors opened. A shiny protocol droid welcomed them into the bare, utilitarian bunker that served as Arawat’s headquarters, and they followed it through a series of round vault-style doors. The final door was bigger than the rest, and it opened on a broad audience chamber, at the end of which sat a sleight, waspish Sullustan. Her old mentor.

“The great Boba Fett!” Arawat said, throwing his arm wide, “Welcome! And Little Fennec, you’ve come back home!”

Fennec nodded her head in response, biting back a bitter response. That was what he was fishing for, after all.

“Arawat Ragistar, thank you for having me,” Boba said, moving to sit in the plush chairs across from Arwat’s restrained setup. “You’re not an easy man to find.”

“Of course not,” Arawat said. “What good assassin would be easy to find? Isn’t that right, Little Fennec?”

Fennec pursed her lips. “Right.”

“We’re interested in bringing some of our import routes through Florrum,” Boba said. “It could be profitable for the both of us.”

“Now Fennec Shand, on the other hand. That’s a name I’ve heard of,” Arawat said, as if he hadn’t heard Boba at all. “‘Best assassin in the galaxy,’ I’ve heard. Of course, if anything I’d taught her had sunken in, she’d know that the best assassin is the one you’ve never heard of.”

Boba’s jaw clicked—a tiny motion Fennec doubted most anyone else would notice. “I’m not sure how that’s relevant to our arrangement.”

Arawat leaned forward over his knees and threaded his fingers together, and Fennec’s own stone face stared back at her in the mirror reflection of his shiny black eyes.

“It’s vanity, you know? Pure vanity,” he said, his voice silky smooth. “Like that hair. Do you know how many times I told her to cut it? There is no tactical advantage to long hair—not a single one. The only reason to keep it is vanity, pure and simple. ”

Fennec stared back at him, refusing to look away. Boba had fallen silent at her side, but she hardly noticed him any more in her peripheral vision. She was back 35 years in the past, her reflexes sharp and her body lean, but her spirit broken.

“Couldn’t quite get all the Chandrila out of her after all-”

“We’re through here,” Boba cut Arawat off, standing to his feet.

Arawat finally turned his attention to Boba, his jowls flapping excitedly around his cheeks. “What? But we were-”

“We’ll bring our goods through some other way. Thank you.”

Boba turned to leave and Fennec followed after him, her jumbled thoughts struggling to right themselves as she kept up with his assertive pace. The protocol droid started leading them back, but Boba brushed past him, retracing their steps to the lift with ease. Arawat didn’t follow.

The lift opened for them and Fennec followed Boba in, holding her tongue until the doors sealed shut.

“Are you crazy? We need his cooperation,” Fennec hissed as the lift zoomed upwards. Her eyes darted to the corners of the lift, searching for the holo cameras she knew must be somewhere.

Boba bristled. “I’m Boba Fett. I don’t need anybody except-” He shut his mouth. “We don’t need anybody.”

The lights from the lift illuminated his face at regular intervals, but the open emotion he’d shown down below was gone. Back was his stoic warrior’s face, the one she’d grown to respect but couldn’t fully trust.

“Fine,” Fennec said after a weighty pause. “Mustafar should work, anyway.”

“Mustafar?” Boba asked incredulously.

“Just get a few heat-resistant vehicles and you’re golden. That hostile environment is its own security.”

Boba grunted in agreement, and the lift continued upward. They fell into a companionable silence, and though the tension in Fennec’s shoulders gradually fell, she still ran her fingers nervously up and down the end of her braid.

---

The last time Fennec had been to Naboo it had been for a hit. The beauty of the planet hadn’t been lost on her at the time, but the elegant promenades and magnificent waterfalls didn’t look quite the same through a scope. This time she and Boba were here for a business deal and she had a chance to truly appreciate Theed’s splendor.

She leaned against the stone balustrade bordering the balcony and closed her eyes, letting the faint mist from a nearby waterfall gather on her face. Heavy footsteps sounded behind her, but they were the comforting, familiar gait of her partner, and she paid them no heed.

“Hiram agreed to our terms,” Boba said from her side. “Production can start next month.”

“Hmmmm,” Fennec hummed. “Sounds good.” They’d thought negotiations would last longer. That gave them three whole days to relax before their shuttle was scheduled to depart.

The breathtaking vista before them occupied all of Fennec’s thoughts. In the distance threads of water laced their way down verdant green cliff sides, and elegant copper-colored buildings stood above the cliffs like sentinels on watch. The waterfall closest to their villa roared as thousands of gallons toppled over the edge every second, and Fennec could feel the power of it through her feet and into her bones. She closed her eyes in appreciation. Beauty and power—the ultimate combination.

Boba leaned on the balustrade next to her, bringing him into her orbit. “I ordered dinner,” he said.

Fennec hummed again. Dinner in their private villa overlooking the waterfalls sounded perfect.

Boba stepped to the side then his warm breadth was at Fennec’s back, enveloping her like a thick cloak. She tensed, her instincts screaming at her to bolt. But maybe this time, she didn’t want to run away.

With a sigh Boba rested his chin on Fennec’s shoulder and his hot breath tickled at the loose strands of hair that had escaped their bindings by her ear. She shivered.

Boba leaned further into her and rested his cheek against the side of her head. He took a long, slow breath in and turned his face more towards her, his nose catching slightly against her braids as he moved his head up and down in what could only be described as a nuzzle.

Fennec’s breath caught in her throat. “Boba…”

“Easy,” he murmured. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

Fennec couldn’t help a soft snort at that. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Maybe,” he said, his breath heavy and thick in her ear. “But I don’t usually have a chance to relax and enjoy it.”

His hands slid up to her arms and he pulled her gently backwards, stepping behind them until he reached a plush daybed set near the back of the balcony. He sat down and she went with him, allowing herself to be tugged into his lap.

She didn’t think. She just let her senses bask in his warmth, in his sturdy, fierce presence. She reclined against his front, her ear pressed up to his unarmored chest. His heartbeat thudded clear and strong against her cheek—a steady, constant presence she was only just realizing how much she cherished. He rested his chin on top of her head and held her loosely around the waist.

Water tumbled over the cliffs of Theed and time passed, but Fennec didn’t notice either. All she felt was an unfamiliar sense of peace and security. Maybe, after all these years, she wasn’t broken after all.

“...We could always extend our stay,” Boba said, his voice a gravelly rumble through his chest.

“Hmmm.” Fennec closed her eyes and let her fingers cling to the fabric of his tunic.

“Or visit other planets. Maybe even go to Chandrila.”

The distant blare of alarm bells sounded in Fennec’s mind, but she did her best to ignore them. It was nothing. She was fine. She was at peace, and she trusted Boba.

“I’ve never been there before,” Boba continued. “You could show me around.”

The alarm bells shrieked, and the peace shattered.

Fennec hauled herself out of Boba’s lap. She stepped back to the edge of the balcony and ordered herself not to look back. It was colder now, but the chill was familiar. “We should leave as we planned. I need to check in with our supplier in Mos Eisley.”

“Fen, come on-”

“I think I’ll call it a night.” There was a courtyard of space between her room and Fett’s, but maybe she’d stay someplace else for the night.

Boba got to his feet and followed her across the balcony, but he made no move to touch her. “You wear Chandrilan braids every day. You can’t tell me you hate the place-”

Fennec rounded on him. “I may be in your service, but that does not mean I have to tell you anything about my personal life.”

Boba grabbed her by the wrist, the snarl he usually reserved for his enemies rising to his lips. “Shand, can we leave the carbonite bitch act behind for once?”

Fennec wrenched her arm from his grasp and shoved him back. “Touch me again and I’ll kill you.”

She whirled around and fled the balcony, making first for her room before turning instead towards the villa’s entrance. How far away could she get for the night? It might be an interesting challenge to see.

---

She came back the next morning. She was a professional, and she trusted Boba to understand the line he’d crossed. And just as she’d expected, he didn’t mention anything about the previous night’s blowup. Two days later they returned to Tatooine, and life continued the same as ever.

Boba’s business ventures on Tatooine were actually fairly legitimate. He built up the local economy, gave loans to entrepreneurial spirits, increased imports and exports exponentially, cracked down vigorously on (unsanctioned) crime, and generally made the miserable ball of dirt and sand that was Tatooine a more tolerable place to exist. That being said, nobody could be successful in the Outer Rim while working completely above board.

Which was why it came as no surprise when the Hutts sent assassins after him for co-opting a chunk of their spice territory.

Fennec squeezed off another round from her perch on one of the palace’s domes and allowed herself a smirk of satisfaction as the target dropped.

“Last intruder down,” she said into her comm.

“Good job,” Boba said from his safe room below. “Let’s give it a half hour to see if anyone else crops up. Then regroup in my study.”

“Copy that.”

Fennec waited patiently in her perch, her sharp eyes staring through the scope for any sign of additional assailants. She was reasonably confident she’d dispatched them all, though, given the size of their transport and typical Pyke Syndicate strategies. Fennec snorted to herself. The Hutts must be really strapped for cash if they were resorting to hiring Pykes.

After the allotted time had passed with no sign of other hostiles, Fennec climbed down from her perch and made her way to Boba’s rooms. Boba was neither sentimental nor high-maintenance, but the comforts of the past few years had led to him accumulating a certain amount of personal belongings to display in his quarters. Mandalorian relics, his father’s old helmet, a Clone Wars-era DC-17—that sort of thing. Fennec walked past his mementos and met him at his armchair near the back of the study.

“All clear?” he asked, looking up from a datapad streaming updates from his security system.

“As far as I can tell. Hutt enforcement really isn’t what it used to be,” she said.

“Not the only thing around here that’s getting rusty, it seems,” a soft voice hissed behind her ear.

Fennec’s eyes widened and she twisted around, but before she could move a cold, slimy hand had her by the hair and a vibroblade pressed up against her gut.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Arawat’s hateful voice whispered near her ear. “Little Fen still has so much to learn. What did I tell you about our work? The best assassins are unseen.”

Fennec’s heart seized in her chest and with each breath her stomach pressed against the vibroblade. For now it was cutting through her coat, but soon enough it would be her skin.

“You might want to rethink your position,” Boba said, slowly rising to his feet. “There are two of us and only one of you. One way or another, you’re not getting out of here alive.”

“Ah haha, the mighty Boba Fett. You know, if you were your father I would be afraid right now. Old Jango wouldn’t hesitate to let a subordinate die to get ahead in a fight. But you’re not like that, are you?” Arawat said. With each word his fleshy jowls slid along Fennec’s neck, making her skin crawl.

Boba bared his teeth and the divots and crevasses of his scars almost turned his expression inhuman. “Care to test that theory?”

“Yes, I think I do,” Arawat said. “Put your weapons down, or I’ll gut her like a fish.” The blade pressed further into her stomach, drawing the tiniest sliver of blood.

Boba met Fennec’s gaze, and an understanding passed between them. Something Fennec had always known somewhere in the back of her mind came to the forefront, and she set her jaw. She trusted Boba. She trusted him more than she’d ever trusted another living person. She trusted him more than she trusted herself.

She didn’t know what he was going to do, but something in his eyes told her to prepare. She slowed her breathing, diminishing the blade’s contact with her flesh, and moved her hand just the slightest distance closer to the vibroblade she always kept tucked into her belt.

Boba moved to disarm himself, one hand going slowly for his blaster while the other stayed up and opened for Arawat to see. Then the thrusters of his jetpack activated, and he barreled right into Arawat and Fennec.

For several chaotic, terrifying moments, Fennec’s world was a tangle of clattering metal, unidentified limbs, and confused violence. Somehow, Arawat managed to maintain his vice like grip on her braid, and while momentum threatened to pull them apart, Arawat held onto her hair with a vicious tenacity. When they landed in a heap on the other side of the room, he yanked her to him again. Boba made a lunge for Arawat’s blade, but he wasn’t going to be fast enough. Fennec needed to get away. As she was, she was a liability.

She pulled the vibroblade from her belt and cut behind her, severing the thick braid right at the base of her skull. She flung herself away from her old teacher, and by the time she looked back Boba had already shot the Sullustant in the chest.

Arawat Ragistar was dead, and she and Boba Fett were both alive. It was a win.

She lay panting on the floor, her heart racing and blood still oozing from her side. As the adrenaline faded, her awareness tunnelled on the length of coiled black hair still hanging from Arawat’s limp hand where he slumped against the wall.

Strong arms pulled her to her feet and inspected the cut to her side, but Fennec hardly noticed.

“Hey,” Boba’s gruff voice cut through the haze. “Go see Pershing and get this stitched up. Then get some rest.”

She nodded numbly, then went to do as ordered.

---

Pershing gave her a few stitches, then added a thick bacta patch for good measure. Fennec didn’t feel anything, and Pershing’s complaints about not being a medical doctor and his demotion to glorified nurse slid easily in and out of her ears. Eventually he was done and her feet found their way back up to her rooms. She shut herself inside and sat down at her desk, her head feeling strange and floaty without the familiar weight of her braid.

Fennec stared at her reflection in the mirror, her face unchanged but somehow unrecognizable in its new frame. A soft knock sounded at the door, and she didn’t bother to shout the intruder off.

Careful footsteps sounded around her room, and Boba’s mangled face appeared above her in the mirror, the softness of his expression completely incongruous with his scarred visage.

Slowly, gently, without a word, he reached for her hair. He ran his fingers through their short, chopped length, sifting the strands carefully from side to side.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Fennec stared into his eyes through the reflection of the mirror, her body frozen in ice. Leaving her plenty of time to protest, Boba’s calloused fingers gathered up several hanks of hair from the crown of her head and started braiding. She’d never let anyone see her process before, but that didn’t stop him.

She barely had enough hair to reach the nape of her neck, but still he braided a short rope down the center of her head, then three smaller ones on each side. Then he picked the orange thread up from her desk and wove it between each braid, the extra support of the thread maintaining the seven braids’ integrity despite their length.

The last person to braid her hair for her had been her mother. Fennec could still remember the feeling of her thin, deft fingers in her hair, could still hear the sound of her soft, gentle voice cooing at her while she worked. She couldn’t remember her mother’s face, couldn’t remember her name, could hardly recall even the vaguest impression of what Chandrila was like. This memory was all she had left.

Fennec’s shoulders shook, and with a start she lifted a hand to her cheek and realized she was crying. The braids now completed, Boba let his hands fall to her shoulders, where their generous warmth helped hold her together.

Boba turned her chair around to face him and knelt down in front of her, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “It will grow back. But even before then, you’ll still be beautiful.”

She turned around in her chair and slid her arms around him, burying her face into his stomach. He sank down to the floor and pulled her down with him, holding her and murmuring unintelligible sweet nothings as he stroked her hair.

“I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” she said, her voice raspy with tears.

“I’ll never let anyone see,” Boba said. “I’ll close my own eyes if it will help.”

Fennec chuckled, her body shaking against Boba’s solid torso. “No, I think it’s alright for you. But only you.”

“Hmmm,” Boba hummed. “It’s a deal, then.”

Fennec rolled over onto her back, then tugged Boba on top of her. “It’s a deal.” She threaded her fingers together behind his neck and pulled him down to her.