#but i can also see her giving him the side eye

[psychoticfemmm]

between two worlds

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: Rafe steps out of his comfort zone to join the Pogues for a beach night.

The beach was alive with the usual chaos that defined the Pogues. JJ was digging through a cooler for beer, Kie was setting up a makeshift bonfire, and Pope was arguing with John B over whose turn it was to collect firewood. You sat on a blanket, watching the sunset over the ocean, your heart racing as Rafe Cameron’s figure loomed in the distance.

“I can’t believe you invited him,” JJ said, shooting you a pointed look as he cracked open a beer. “This is sacred Pogue territory, Y/N.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said simply, brushing sand off your legs.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” JJ muttered under his breath.

Sarah shot him a look. “Give him a chance, JJ. If Y/N can handle his crazy ass, we can for one night.”

You turned to see Rafe walking toward you, his shoulders slightly tense, his hands shoved in his pockets. The evening light softened his features, but you could tell he was uneasy. He wasn’t exactly a welcome presence among the Pogues, and he knew it.

“You didn’t tell me it’d be this many people,” he murmured when he reached you, leaning down to kiss your temple.

“Rafe, it’s literally just them,” you teased, gesturing toward the group. “You’ll survive.”

He rolled his eyes but sat down next to you, his hand instinctively resting on your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

JJ snorted. “Look at him. Acting like he belongs here.”

“JJ,” you warned.

Rafe tensed but didn’t rise to the bait, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Nice to see you too, Maybank.”

“Alright, everybody chill,” Sarah interjected, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. She gave Rafe a small smile. “Thanks for coming, Rafe. Even though I know you’re out of your element.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.”

“Just don’t kill the vibe,” JJ added, plopping down on the other side of you.

The tension was thick at first. Rafe sat quietly, his usual cocky demeanor dimmed in the face of the Pogues’ scrutiny. You felt the weight of his discomfort, and it made you squeeze his hand reassuringly. He looked at you, his blue eyes softening as if to say, I’m doing this for you.

As the night wore on, the tension began to ease. JJ’s antics and John B’s storytelling had everyone laughing, even Rafe cracking a smile here and there.

“Alright, I have to ask,” Kie said, looking directly at Rafe. “How does a Kook prince like you end up with a Pogue queen?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kie—”

“No, it’s fine,” Rafe said, surprising you. He leaned back on his hands, glancing at you with a small smirk. “I guess I just like a challenge.”

JJ scoffed, but Kie rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though.”

Rafe’s expression softened as he looked at you. “She’s different. She doesn’t care about any of the crap I used to think mattered. She calls me out when I’m being an idiot, but she also makes me want to be better.”

The Pogues fell silent, exchanging surprised looks. Even JJ looked slightly less annoyed.

“She’s good at that,” Sarah said, smiling at you.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, JJ pointed at Rafe with his beer bottle. “Alright, Cameron, you’re scoring some points. But don’t think I’m not watching you.”

“Duly noted,” Rafe replied dryly, earning a laugh from John B.

As the night wound down, you and Rafe wandered a little farther down the beach, away from the firelight and the laughter of your friends. The ocean waves crashed gently against the shore, and the cool breeze tugged at your hair.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” you said, bumping his shoulder playfully.

He huffed a laugh, wrapping an arm around your waist. “They hate me.”

“They don’t hate you,” you assured him. “They’re just…protective.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you. “And you’re worth protecting.”

You rolled your eyes, but the sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip. He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I mean it,” he said softly. “I know I don’t always fit into your world, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I do. For you.”

Your breath hitched as his thumb traced your cheek, his touch warm and familiar. “Rafe…”

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the waves.

Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken word into it. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted against him, the rest of the world fading away.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Alright,” you said, your voice teasing but soft. “You’re forgiven for being awkward.”

“Awkward?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I was charming.”

“You were stiff,” you corrected with a laugh.

He grinned, kissing you again, this time quicker but no less sweet. “You bring me around them enough, and I’ll charm them too.”

“Let’s not push it,” you teased, lacing your fingers with his as you started walking back toward the fire.

In the distance, you could hear JJ yelling, “Hey! No PDA where we can see it!”

Rafe groaned, but you just laughed, pulling him closer. He might not be a Pogue, but tonight, he’d proven he was yours—and that was more than enough.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

[hvbris]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha was not superstitious, but she still felt safer with Killian's knife in her pocket. It was an extra weapon, and would come in very handy if she had to fight the monster in close combat -or if she somehow got stuck in the trap, too. But she was also sentimental.

"You would make a great Robin Hood," she chuckled as she helped him put the net down. She stretched and rubbed her shoulders. They were already sore. "Steal from the rich and give to the poor!" Samantha didn't know too much about Killian's situation, but she knew that it was Delta Green who had paid for his education.

She started to carefully untangle the net, lying it flat on the grass. "I don't know," she admitted, "I've never seen anything like it before. But I think Violet might be right: if it's been done by a man, then surely it can be undone, too. Once we catch who did it, we'll force him to turn this student back into a human." If it could be done. "All we can do is try."

Violet was quite relieved to hear that Sloane couldn't fly a plane. He was dangerous enough as he was! Not this Sloane, she reminded herself. Though she couldn't be sure. He was not a cultist, and he was on her side, but he was probably still very dangerous.

And he was a great actor, too. She watched as he started talking to the man, skillful in the way he played the part of the embarrassed, tired single dad -even his hand motion felt warm and loving. Violet thought about Lisa and felt very sad all of a sudden. Sloane seemed like he was a good dad. He would one day do unforgivable things, to bring back his family.

She carefully looked down at her feet at that word, "busy", as if she was also upset about her mother's behavior. She kept her eyes planted on the ground while he described how tired she felt, waiting until he was asking about a room before rubbing her left arm with her hand -not too much, like Sloane told her. It was only when the man asked to see Sloane's ID that she looked up -expectantly. Yes, she was cold and she was tired and she really wanted to sleep while her dad worked.

Theo took some comfort in the thought that Samantha would be careful. She was sensible and certainly a very capable agent, more so than him he believed anyway. He had to have faith in her and make sure he did his part right to help protect her. "Yeah, it's kept me safe so far," he smiled about the knife though he didn't really believe in such superstitions, not yet anyway.

She got him to laugh about him being Robin Hood, tickled by the image and comparison and the thought of how to pull it off as NYC's Robin Hood did cross his mind for a moment before he let it go, he had a job to do just as he was instructed. "I'd rather you were safe from the bears, but I think I would make an awesome Robin Hood."

He set the net down carefully when they walked onto the green and he spared a stretch of his own shoulders. That was heavy! But that meant it would be hard to get out of. "Do you think we can help this student?" Theo was hoping so but he also understood the reality of the situation. He had been exposed to the unnatural, tainted by it even, he likely wasn't safe to keep alive or at least free. But perhaps they could reverse what had been done and he would just believe it was all a wild fever dream. Or drugs.

Sloane laughed and shook his head, "I have many talents, but actually flying a plane is not one of them." Though it was in some way flattering that Violet even thought that of him! He would have liked to have been a pilot if he had the chance, but he had often been told he was too tall for the role. Oh well.

Inside the admin office the man behind the computer looked up to assess them, confused and a little intrigued that a professor was there and apparently his young daughter. "Very nice, Astrid," Sloane was sure to tell Violet for her greeting the man but it was also a little subtle praise for her less is more adaptation to the situation. Oh he was already proud.

"I find myself in a bit of a mess," Sloane began with the man, leaning on the counter a little and clearly looking that little bit exasperated. "My daughter, Astrid," he gestured to Violet, there was a warmth in the movement, a natural hand wave that in some ways offered protection as well as attention, "she's had to come to my work while her mom is..." he pretended to stop himself in his tracks, glancing at Violet and then to the man behind the counter, "busy. I have to work late and the poor child is very tired after a long and trying day. I don't suppose there's a dorm room for her to use, just until I am done working for the night? I'll take her home after my work is completed of course. Marking, sucks the life out of people and time right out of the day."

The man looked to them both, his attention turning onto Violet for a long moment while he considered his options. "Can I see your staff card, Professor?" He held his hand out and Sloane handed over his university ID, fake of course, and then put his enormous hand on Violet's shoulder as if trying to keep her warm and comforted in her cold and tired state. Quietly tugging on the heart strings of the man in front of them.

[starmapz]

silent night - s. geto

❦ suguru geto x sorcerer reader

part four of the six degrees of separation anthology of oneshots, however can be read separately.

❝ christmas morning should bring with it joyous laughter and well wishes- but this particular morning is nothing but silent. when your fiancé's calls go to voicemail and you fear the worst, an unexpected guest shows up with news that could only come straight from a nightmare. ❞

❦ warnings ; no pronouns used. angst. hurt/no comfort. pet names (angel, sweetheart, darling). anxiety. panic attacks. mental illness. major character death.

❦ words ; 4.2k.

masterlist || sdos masterlist

previous (nicotine)

The sounds of Michael Bublé’s Holly Jolly Christmas fill the air, holiday joy spurring you to open your eyes.

Christmas Day.

You can only imagine how excited the girls are right now, having been told they can’t leave their rooms until you come to get them. Suguru had also insisted on Christmas music as your alarm to ‘get you in the spirit’.

As if you weren’t already in the spirit for your first Christmas engaged to him.

His fiancé. It has such a nice ring to it that the thought alone makes you smile.

Reaching over, you shut off the familiar bells and yuletide blessings of Michael Bublé’s sultry voice, opting for the silence of the snowy morning. After all, you would be hearing the girls’ excited shrieks and joyous laughter as soon as you made your way to the tree.

Flipping to Suguru’s side, it’s as though something sharp punctures your chest.

His side of the bed is empty. Cold. This wouldn’t be unusual were it not Christmas.

With a knot in your brow, you slip your feet into your slippers at the side of your bed, throwing on a housecoat and tucking your phone in the pocket, and pad over to the girls’ rooms. The chilly air of the house that Suguru prefers so that he can cuddle you at night feels more frigid than usual as a chill runs up your spine at the sight of Nanako’s cracked door.

“Nana?” You call her name gently as you peer through the door. Like every other year, she should be awake, practically bursting at the seams with excitement to see what you and her father had gotten her, but the room is silent save for the ticking of a clock.

You purse your lips, your feet carrying you much quicker to Mimiko’s room. Although quieter, she’s usually equally as eager to get to the tree, but her room is even more deathly silent than Nanako’s.

With concern pooling in your stomach at the lack of noise in the house, you jog to the living room in search of your family. The room is still, the tree untouched as the lights sparkle red like an omen. Your heart drops into your stomach at the sight of every gift wrapped to perfection, not a single one out of place.

The girls were so excited to open them.

Pulling your phone from the pocket of your housecoat, you dial Suguru’s number. It rings five times before going to voicemail.

Hi, angel. Chances are this is you, since I don’t give my number out to anyone. Sorry I missed your call, I promise I’ll return it once I have a moment. I love you.

“Hi, Sugu. I don’t know where you and the girls are, but- um-” your voice breaks, fear gripping your words. “It’s Christmas. I hope everything is alright. I’m sure you’ll be back soon but just… let me know where you all are, okay? I love you.”

You hit the ‘end call’ button, staring down at the screen for a moment.

Maybe you should make yourself some tea while you wait. He’ll get back to you soon. Suguru’s always been good with that.

The tea does little to soothe your nerves. If anything, it sits uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach as you stare blankly at your phone screen. Your heart flutters with hope as it lights up, only to see a Merry Christmas notification from Duolingo.

That damn owl.

Picking up your phone once more, you open your texts with Nanako, your fingers flying across the keyboard.

10:02 AM You || Hey sweetheart, can you text me to let me know you, Mimi, and your dad are safe?

10:02 AM Nana || Message not sent. Tap to try again.

Your heart sinks, dread clutching your heart.

Over the years, Suguru’s put in a real effort to ensure you’re comfortable and happy. He bought a house away from the cult to keep you and his business separate, he never speaks of work even when he invites you along with his friends.

He made an effort to find you a therapist, and even attended couples’ therapy with you. He’s overly conscious of the fact that making the decision to defect from Jujutsu Tech with him is one that affected you deeply. It’s not something he ever took lightly, aiming to give you the best life.

Anything and everything for you. Whatever he could physically make happen, it would come to be. Every wish of yours at his command.

It was always at the back of your mind, the things he had done. The things you felt remorse over. The guilt and pain of failing Haibara and Nanami. The self-doubt of your decision to join Suguru all those years ago, abandoning your vow to keep humanity safe and leaving behind your friends at Jujutsu Tech. But after so many years of therapy, you’ve healed and have been able to live a fairly normal life.

You tend to a beautiful garden during the summer, opting for indoor plants during the winter. You learned to dry and make your own tea leaves, and run a small online business from the comfort of your home. It’s nothing that could pay bills, but it allows you a sense of independence while Suguru provides. You cook for your family and keep the house clean and every single night without fail, Suguru returns and envelops you in his arms, enjoying a warm dinner with his family.

This is the first time in a long time that doubt rears its ugly head in your mind, bringing back with it a familiar sensation of drowning. That feeling that something is wrong and you’re losing control.

In a flurry of unease, you pick up your phone and dial Suguru again. It rings a few times, but his voice repeats that same phrase.

Hi, angel. Chances are this is you, since I don’t give my number out to anyone. Sorry I missed your call, I promise I’ll return it once I have a moment. I love you.

“Sugu, please call me back. I’m worried about you. You never miss Christmas. I love you, baby.”

The end call button somehow feels more daunting than it ever has, as though pressing it tells the tale of an end that you aren’t ready for. You rhythmically tap your nails along the screen in thought, dialing Suguru’s number again. Five more rings, one more voicemail.

“Suguru, please call me. Nanako’s texts aren’t delivering. I’m worried about you all. I can’t find anyone. I love you.”

You chew on your lower lip, leaning over the table on your elbows as you shut your eyes. You shouldn't be worried, they’re all strong sorcerers. They can take care of themselves. Suguru will keep his girls safe, you included. He always does.

You can hardly move in the hour that follows, calling Suguru every so often and trying Nanako, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. Mimiko’s phone is still in her room, there’s no use calling it. It makes you think that maybe this is all a misunderstanding. She wouldn’t simply forget her phone.

It’s the following hour that leaves you stranded, alone on an island of terror in the deep sea of your anxious worries.

It’s around noon when Suguru’s phone stops ringing before going straight to voicemail.

Hi, angel. Chances are this is you, since I don’t give my number out to anyone. Sorry I missed your call, I promise I’ll return it once I have a moment. I love you.

Your voice is no longer even, you have to strain to feign even a semblance of control over your emotions, but you would be lying to say you aren’t a wreck. Your heart pounds each time you hear the phrase.

Hi, angel. Chances are this is you, since I don’t give my number out to anyone. Sorry I missed your call, I promise I’ll return it once I have a moment. I love you.

“Sugu, come home. Pl- please come home. I need you. I love you.” The encroaching tears are evident in your voice, choking you with each word.

You don’t know what to do, at a complete loss and alone, so painfully alone.

What are you supposed to do, call one of your non-sorcerer friends to tell them that your fiancé who barely tolerates them on a good night has gone missing? The reality is, a search party won’t help in this case. A search party can’t help you search for your criminal partner.

The loneliness had gotten easier to handle over the years, but between the doubt, fear, and concern already creeping into your heart, there’s little you can do to fend it off now. You continue to chew on your lip, gripping your phone tightly under white knuckles.

The following hour sees your tears fall. Suguru doesn’t go this long without answering. Nanako never puts her phone down.

You have to resign yourself to the knowledge that something has happened and you’re helpless in tracking them down. You haven’t used your cursed energy in so long you can hardly call yourself a sorcerer, but if ever there was a time to use it, now is the time.

Your pacing comes to a halt. When had you even started pacing? You’re not sure.

Someone with strong cursed energy is approaching your home. Suguru.

You run to the door, tears of relief falling as you practically tear the door from its hinges at the relief of seeing-

Satoru.

His expression is solemn, his hands buried deep within his pockets.

“Merry Christmas, sweets.” His voice sounds different. Deeper, forlorn. He’s traded in his dark shades for white bandages, equally snowy locks pushed out of his face. He’s filled out over the last ten years, his shoulders much broader and his chest much more pronounced. He still wears the Jujutsu Tech uniform, though it must be as a teacher now.

“Merry Christmas.” Your voice is meek, it sounds almost foreign to you. “You look good, Satoru,” you force a smile, though it’s hardly convincing given your distressed expression.

“Likewise,” he returns your smile.

“I don’t mean this in a bad way,” you begin, wiping your tears at the realization that you likely look like a mess. The most you’ve done today is make tea using your hand-dried leaves. It didn’t sit so well in your stomach though, and the remainder of the tea is still in a mug on your counter. “But, why are you here?”

Satoru shouldn’t know where you are. You suppose he does have those stupid Six Eyes, whatever that even means, and he could realistically have found you years ago if he so pleased, but he never did. For all the care that Suguru still held for Satoru, it was exactly that care that drove him to push his friend away, for their ideals and values stood too far apart. They weren’t as blurred as yours had become.

“Suguru mentioned I would find you here.”

“You spoke with him?” You perk up, your heart skipping a beat at the mere mention of his name. “Is he okay? My daughters, did you see them?”

Satoru’s tongue swipes over his lips before he presses them into a thin line. Your throat tightens, suffocating you.

“Can I come in?”

You purse your lips, slowly opening the door for Satoru, who has to duck to enter the house. He takes in your home, well organized and clean, with a cozy looking tree lit at the back. The overcast sun pours in through windows near the tree, illuminating the awaiting presents.

He makes his way inside, confidently making himself at home in typical Satoru fashion. He finds the first comfortable looking chair and plops himself down with spread legs. He hasn’t changed one bit. You follow after him, standing at the edge of the living space.

“You’ve got a nice home,” he comments, punctuating the phrase with your name. 

“Thanks.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, fear shaking your vocals as you push out the question you’re dreading. “Where’s Suguru?”

Satoru doesn’t move. You can’t read his expression under the bandages. You think you prefer the sunglasses to the makeshift blindfold, even if they made him look like an asshole.

“Have you turned on the TV at all today? Checked the news?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. A pit could open up and swallow you whole and it would be a kinder fate than whatever easy way Satoru is trying to let you down. You appreciate the way he’s gentle on your frail heart, but you wish he wouldn’t beat around the bush.

Maybe the fact that you’re aware he’s letting you down easy should be your first clue that something is wrong.

“No, I haven’t.”

He sighs deeply. This is the most serious you’ve seen him since Suguru defected. “Sit down.” It’s not a request, nor a demand, but you oblige anyway. You fear if you don’t, you’ll collapse as your legs begin to quiver under the gravity of your emotions.

Satoru turns to face you finally, pulling a strand of the bandage and allowing it to unravel so that you can see his eyes. They seem to glow even in the well-lit living area. He blinks a few times, before he seems to find his voice.

“Has he spoken to you at all about what the cult has been doing?”

You shake your head, your voice caught in your throat.

“I see.” He straightens, facing you as though he’s giving you a debrief. It almost brings you back to your high school days. “Last night, Suguru released two thousand cursed spirits in Kyoto and Shinjuku. I won’t cover the casualties given your relationship, but I need to stress that this wasn’t an act of self defense.” He pauses, searching your expression. He sounds like Yaga when he speaks like this, it makes you feel sick.

The formality of his tone drives you crazy as you take in what he’s saying, yet his words don’t feel like they’re processing. It’s as though you’re watching this conversation from outside your own body, experiencing Satoru’s presence from afar.

When you don’t reply, he continues. “He attacked the school. He attempted to kill my student.”

Contrary to his prior explanation, this one registers. “A kid? He tried to kill a…?” You trail off, trying to comprehend how your fiancé could possibly act on something like that. He has two daughters himself, how could he attack a child sorcerer? That was his original breaking point, that was what had affected him so deeply he had finally broken.

That was the reason you had two adopted daughters at such a young age.

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” You shake your head, tears freely falling although you’re numb to the warmth of the salty liquid falling down your face.

Satoru frowns, clasping his hands together. “He went down a path that there was no coming back from.” He’s beating around the bush still, searching for ways to help you understand your loss without directly saying it, to help you come to terms with your grief. He himself is still grappling with his own, but Satoru had ten years to heal where you didn’t.

He couldn’t deny his only friend’s final request, to seek you out. It didn’t take much. A house in the countryside, far from the cult’s quarters, it only made sense for you. Satoru was never really sure why you followed Suguru. He knows your love for him runs deep, but he also knows you have a kind heart. It didn’t shock him to hear that you had never been involved in the cult’s businesses, nor had you ever laid a hand on anyone with intent to cause harm.

You had always been the kindest of them all. Troubled, perhaps, but kind, always.

He watches as you absentmindedly fiddle with a ring on your finger. An engagement ring. Shit. He never realized. He supposes that the distant, uncomprehending look in your eyes makes all the more sense knowing that you were soon to be married.

Your silence speaks volumes, tears still trailing down your cheeks, your eyes reddened and puffy. Satoru understands your pain, even if his pain culminates in a different form. Still, the distant look in your eyes pains him.

“Still with me?” He asks, leaning forward.

“I don’t get it.” You shake your head adamantly, sniffling. “He wouldn’t attack a child sorcerer.”

Satoru nods slowly. Denial. You’re in denial, that’s understandable.

“Okkotsu, first year student. He accidentally cursed his first love and she became a special grade apparition. Suguru wanted to absorb her.”

You shake your head, brow furrowing. “He wouldn’t.” Your breathing is growing ragged and Satoru can’t bear to see you suffer this way.

Getting to his feet, he approaches slowly, taking a seat on the couch beside you. He offers a hand, thankful you take it, although your tight grip on him sends a jolt up his body. “Damn, sweets. Quite the grip,” he chuckles, a barebones attempt at comforting humor.

His joke goes over about as poorly as you would expect as reality begins to set in. You pull away from his grip, bringing your hands up to your face as you gasp into your shaky palms.

He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. There won’t be a honeymoon in three months. There won’t be a wedding to celebrate. There won’t be a Christmas shared in the warmth of his arms.

Every last hope, dream, and tradition, shattered for a vision that you never once believed in. There wasn’t a world where Suguru succeeded, and there’s a small part of you that thought he was aware of that. A part of you that thought he only surrounded himself with people who believed in this vision simply because they shared his values and ideals.

Suguru Geto wasn’t an innocent man, but you didn’t think he was a foolish one either. You didn’t think he was one to sacrifice everything he had built for a vision that he couldn’t possibly achieve.

Strangled gasps part your lips as grief claws its way up your throat. You have to swallow down bile as you struggle to get air. Everything crashes in on you at once, pulling you underwater into a sea of what were once well-controlled and understood emotions.

If the world pities you, it shows no sign of it, letting you choke as your world splits down the middle.

Suguru was your lifevest, he kept you above water even as the tides grew and shifted. He would be there to watch over you as the ocean grew and the shore lessened. Even at your worst, he shone as a beacon to guide you back to land, to him.

Satoru pulls you into him, rubbing your back with gentle coos and shushes, but he isn’t what you need. He isn’t who you need. He doesn’t provide the calm escape from the storm that Suguru did. His warmth doesn’t feel the same. His arms enveloping you are foreign. It’s as though he’s little more than another cloud leaving your mind foggy and uncertain, lost in chaos.

Sobs repeatedly wrack your body and Satoru fears he’s losing you to grief. There was once a time that you two were close, and while he’s sure he can’t provide for you what Suguru did, he hopes as he tightens his grip around your frame that you feel that he still cares.

He never resented you for leaving with Suguru. Even as you were sentenced to death and he was told to hunt his closest friends, he never once attempted it.

The higher-ups knew. They knew he could find you. They never pushed. They feared Gojo for what he could do. What he would do if he did manage to find you both.

“I- I can’t-” you stammer out choked words, clinging to him suddenly as though your desperate gasps for air aren’t enough. They aren’t enough. You’re pale, clinging to him for purchase as you fail to catch your breath.

Everything seems to close in, your vision blurring as black closes in on all signs.

Satoru recognizes the signs that you’re losing consciousness. So choked by your own grief that your body fails you, allowing your anxiety to tear a hole through your chest as though your heartbreak wasn’t enough.

He fears there’s nothing he can do, simply holding you as your mind fails to make sense of the situation you find yourself in. He’s not sure how long he holds you before you come back to the present. He doesn’t move an inch, opting simply to be there for you. Even if no one was there for him as he wrapped his own head around Suguru’s crimes, he wouldn’t let the same be said for you.

You’ve suffered enough.

Your breathing accelerates rapidly as you blink and take in your surroundings, every limb sore to the point where you’re growing numb. Satoru may have a penchant for endless talking, but he remains silent as you come to, processing the world. All he offers is the occasional squeeze of reassurance or a quietly whispered ‘I’m here’.

Something under the tree catches your eye, a gift you don’t recognize, but Satoru doesn’t dare let you go in this state.

“Can you breathe, sweets?”

You swallow hard with a shaky inhale. “It hurts, but I can.”

“Good.”

“Wh- where are the girls?”

Satoru leans back to get a look at your face. “I don’t know. I didn’t see much of Suguru’s followers beyond Miguel.”

You cling to the hope that maybe they’re okay, but the dread in the pit of your stomach tells another story. You can’t reach Nana and Mimi left her phone here. It all has to be for a reason. This is premeditated and there was a calculated decision made not to contact you. Not to fill you in.

They’re gone, too.

Your eyes remain fixed on the new gift beneath the tree. Leaning your full body weight against Satoru, he still refuses to let go, following you to the ground by the tree as you drag him off the couch.

Placed atop the largest wrapped gift is a tiny box with a folded note attached. You don’t recognize it and it’s too nicely wrapped to be from the girls.

With a sharp intake of breath to try to regulate your emotions as you tug the note from the box, unraveling it.

Angel,

Merry Christmas. If you’re reading this, I suppose I have some explaining to do.

Suguru’s penmanship is impeccable, and tears stream down your face at the realization of exactly what you’re reading. Satoru’s grip tightens around you as he reads over your shoulder, feeling every muscle in your body tense.

I think there was always a part of you that thought more of me than what I truly am. For that, I am deeply sorry. I’m beyond grateful that you accepted my proposal. You would have looked absolutely stunning standing at the end of the aisle.

But someone like you deserves more than what I can provide. It’s destroyed me, all these years, to know that you allowed me to break your spirit simply out of love. I don’t think any words could help me fix the error of my ways, but it’s one of my greatest regrets.

If you’re reading this, then the cult’s plans went sideways. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for Christmas day. You can add that to the long list of promises that have now been broken. I made many vows when I got down on one knee, but I suppose it was presumptuous of me to speak so highly of my ability to provide for you when I imagine you’re falling apart again.

Promise me something, my love. I want you to pick yourself up, and start fresh. Seek out Satoru, he’ll help you find a place to begin again.

I don’t expect it will be easy, but I know you can keep your head above water. Keep staying strong for me. You’re a diamond in the rough and no one will ever compare to the way you shine so brightly. Keep your chin up and keep going, my love.

I am so deeply sorry. I only ever wanted what was best for you.

I love you always.

Your Sugu ♡

You gasp between choked sobs, running your hand over the note. The ink is smeared in his final apology, a circular marking on the page’s corner as though he’d shared your tears when he wrote the note.

Setting it aside, your hand hesitates over the box. Satoru squeezes you gently, a reassurance that at least you aren’t alone. He might not be Suguru, but the reminder that you aren’t alone does provide some sort of comfort, regardless of it not being what you truly need right now.

Pulling the box into your hand, you chew at your lip until iron stings on your tongue, the taste bitter and miserable.

Holding your breath, you finally find the courage to tear the wrapping paper from the tiny gift. A small red velvet box sits in your hands.

One final gift from Suguru, one so cruel it could only have come from him.

Sitting within the box are two beautiful matching silver bands clearly crafted custom to suit your unique styles.

Wedding rings.

All over again, everything seems to crash in on you.

masterlist || sdos masterlist

previous (nicotine)

❦ a/n ; i'm so sorry :') this has been in my mind for a bit and i figured what better time to complete this series than christmas? but! i promise i have some christmas fluff coming soon too <3

❦ taglist ; @ghost-buddies @depressedemosantaclaus @s3vtrue @troyesivanfrl

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight and cafekitsune.

[nyoomfruits]

Landoscar + book

"I think Norris might be into you," Logan whispers, holding up his own book to hide behind.

Oscar looks up from the pages and books spread out in front of him. Lando's sitting a few tables over, reading a book. "Right. And why do you think that?" Oscar whispers back. At the table next to Lando, a girl glares at them. He ignores her.

"He keeps looking over here," Logan says.

"So? Maybe he really wants our table," Oscar says. It is a really good table. Best spot in the library, near the windows so you get some natural light, but never where the sun gets in your eyes. Tucked away in the corner enough to give some privacy while also still being able to overlook the rest of the room. And close to the section Oscar needs the most, so. Perfect.

"You're the only person who's weird about your table selection," Logan says.

Oscar really doubts that. "Maybe he's into you."

"Please," Logans rolls his eyes. "I just winked at him and he frowned. I'm not the one he's after."

Oscar glances over again. Lando hasn't looked up since they started this conversation, so all Oscar can see are his artfully touseld curls, the way his fingers splay the sides of the book. Oscar can't see his face, but he can imagine what it looks like, brows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of his mouth. Oscar's been watching him, pining after him, long enough to know. "He's not into me."

"Okay," Logan says. "Sure." And then, with the biggest, shit eating grin on his face. "Then why has he been reading his book upside down the whole time?"

[talaok]

Christmas encounters

Summary: You invite Joel, Ellie, Din, and Grogu to your and your boyfriend's Javi Christmas party.

Warnings: Javi’s a bit jealous, but other than that, it's just chaotic writing

This is my gift to @lokischocolatefountain as a part of the @pedrostories Secret Santa event Merry Christmas Eve love!! I really hope you'll like this, I tried my very best i swear. It was such a cute idea btw, I really really loved it!! (also i hope you won't mind the joel and javi dinamic im a slut what can i say)

"c'mon Joel is just a few people I promise"

"You didn't tell me"

"I-" you stuttered "I didn't because otherwise you wouldn't have come!"

"Exactly"

he was giving you that stern dad look you'd see him direct toward Ellie countless times before

"c'mon" you smiled, looking at him and his kid "There's someone I want you to meet"

He raised his brow, not even remotely interested.

But Ellie, oh Ellie indeed was.

"Who?"

You smirked... your plan had worked perfectly.

"You'll have to find out inside"

"Joel c'mon put your big boy pants on and socialize for once"

A chuckle fled your mouth before you had time to cage it.

Joel shot a look Ellie's way, but every single one of you knew that he was gonna budge, he was nothing but a pushover when it came to her.

"an hour tops"

Ellie rolled her eyes as you let them in with a huge smile, even when Joel was shooting daggers at you.

"Stop pouting pretty boy, come meet my friend"

He sighed, before grumbling "If it's another one of your single girlfriends I'll save you some time, I'm not interested"

"I'm not setting you up Joel calm down, I've learned my lesson"

"Ellie" you called for her before she slipped through the people and you'd never find her again "Come here"

The new pair was greeted with hello and Merry Christmas by every person mingling in the entrance, and as you walked, the voices of the small crowd gathered in your living room slowly got louder until finally, you had arrived.

"there she is!" one of your friends yelled, making you smile

"Hi Joel!" Jenna almost jumped from the excitement when she saw the man.

She was one of the unfortunate women you'd set him up with... only she'd remained infatuated by him, while he on the other hand... not so much.

"Hi" he forced a smile in return as Ellie snorted.

But just as Jenna approached, you caught sight of the man you wanted to present your friends and made a beeline for him, hurriedly followed by the pair beside you.

"Din!"

He was sat on one of the chairs close to the fireplace, contemplating it deeply.

He turned at the sound of his name, his helmet reflecting the fire on its right side now.

"Hey" his modulated voice answered you, as his gaze, even if you couldn't actually tell for sure, took in the people next to you.

"These are the people I was telling you about" you smiled, pointing to the men on your left "This is Joel- and this is Ellie"

"Nice to meet you" he nodded

"nice to meet ya too... Din, right?" Joel repeated his name with uncertainty.

Yes, he was grateful it wasn't one of your girlfriends, but he still wasn't exactly expecting... this.

"yes, Din"

"Hey where is Gro-"

But just as you began pronouncing his name, you caught sight of one of the firey logs starting to magically lift from its place.

"Grogu!" Din's voice was immediately followed by the log falling back into place, as a very sorry green little guy appeared from behind his dad's armchair.

"It's ok" you smiled, your voice softening at the sight of him "don't worry about it Grogu"

"What the fuc-"

"Ellie" Joel immediately hushed the girl, who was urgently tagging at his sleeve, her eyes as wide as they would go

"What is- how- I-"

You chuckled, watching the kid stutter in amazement, her gaze trained on the little green guy who happened to be curiously watching her too.

"This is Grogu" Din spoke, "He's my- uhm... friend"

"you're friends with an alien!?"

"Ellie"

Joel's sigh was louder this time

"I guess" Din simply shrugged, seeming almost bored with the whole situation

"What!? Joel, are you seeing this!?"

But just as Joel was starting to respond, surely a lecture about being polite on the tip of his tongue, a voice sounded from behind you

"what's all the fuss? what did I miss?"

An arm wrapped around your back as you felt your boyfriend slide against your side, bringing you impossibly close to him.

"hi baby" you turned your head to look at him with a smile "Ellie and Joel just met Grogu"

"oh" he hummed, a grin splitting his lips "I see"

He took his time glancing away from you, only after getting a good look at your pretty painted lips.

"Joel" he finally said, nodding to the man

Javier had never liked Joel much, something to do with the alleged longing stares he'd direct your way far too often.

"Javier"

Joel in return, never liked him much either, you'd never figured out why.

"Hi Ellie" your boyfriend smiled now

"hi there" she took an eager step forward, as if she was presenting him with a business proposal "Changed your mind about letting me see your gun yet?"

Javi couldn't help but laugh as he shook his head "I'm afraid not"

And as Ellie went back to her place beside Joel's side to grumble with annoyance, Javier nestled his head right against your neck, leaving a quick kiss on the side of it

"you look stunning sweetheart"

You couldn't help but laugh

"And you're being ridiculous honey"

I mean it wasn't like Javier was one to be shy about showing affection for you in public, but you knew what he was doing- why he was doing it now- when Joel was right next to you

"What, I can't tell my girlfriend how beautiful she is?" his hot breath was fanning against your ear as he whispered into it "How amazing this dress looks on you?" he purred, his hand on your back slowly lowering "that I can't wait to see it on the bedroom floor ton-"

"and that's enough" you stopped him with a giggle "You're supposed to be entertaining our guests, not traumatizing them"

He shook his head with a grin, as you turned back to your guests

"So anyway, Din is a very interesting man, Joel, I think you'd get along very w-"

"Y/n!"

A shout sounded from the other side of the room. Your friend Sarah was waving her arms around to desperately get your attention

Oh god, what now?

"The bathroom!"

the bathroom? What about the bathroom?

"I'm sorry, let me just check real quick"

You excused yourself and rushed toward the commotion to find a freaked-out Sarah nervously biting her nails

"I swear I didn't do anything, I came in and there was already a pool of water there"

You frowned, opening the door to the bathroom to inspect it further.

Of course the fucking sink had to break right now

"fuck" you muttered

"It's alright maybe we can just... put a bucket under it" Sarah tried to lighten the mood

But right as she spoke those words, some valve turned or something and more water started dripping onto the floor.

"fuck me, I'll have to call a plumber"

But just then, a voice rumbled from behind you

"I'll fix it"

You turned, finding Joel right in front of you, his eyes moving from the pool of water gathering on the floor to you.

"By the time the plumber comes the whole apartment's gonna be flooded," He said simply, his voice deep and casual

"No Joel I don't want you to spend the whole night repairing the sink, you're supposed to be having fun" you immediately shook your head "I'll call a plumber"

"it's no problem darlin'" he spoke, a soft smile pulling at his lips

"but..."

He let out an amused sigh "I promise"

"Joel- you a hundred percent sure?"

"'m sure, don't worry 'bout it"

You looked at him, inspected every inch of his face to find even an ounce of uncertainty, and when you came up empty, you finally nodded.

"uhm, alright, thank you, really, I'll go look for the toolbox"

He nodded, watching you walk away, but finding an obstacle in his gaze's path.

"y'know... you're not the only one who can fix a sink" Javi grumbled, walking closer to lean on the bathroom's doorframe

"Yeah? then how come you ain't doin' it?" Joel's voice was calm, collected, but Javier saw right through it

Your boyfriend scoffed "'cause I've gotta help my girlfriend host the party"

Checkmate

"Right" Joel muttered

"Right"

Just then, when the tension in the air started getting thicker, you appeared with a big toolbox in hand

"here it is!"

Both the men's eyes followed you as you set it down next to the broken sink

"thank you darlin'" Joel smiled as you turned back to him.

"Are you kidding!? thank you, Joel, you're my savior"

There was a huge, thankful grin splitting your lips as you talked

"y'know she has a name right?" Javi interrupted whatever Joel was about to say

"babe" you shot him a look, mortified

"'m sorry, I'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable darlin'"

Jesus Christ he wasn't making anything easier for you

"it's fine Joel, Javi's just being dumb, don't mind him" you shook your head, as Javi continued watching Joel as if he'd offended him deeply.

"thank you again Joel, I owe you"

"'s nothing" he promised softly "go have fun"

And with that, you smiled at him again as you exited the bathroom, dragging your boyfriend with you.

"you're unbelievable" you muttered as soon as you were out of earshot

"And you're perfect" he murmured with that annoyingly sexy voice of his as he leaned in "Merry Christmas baby"

and just like that, his lips were on yours and all was forgotten.

__ __ __

"so what do you do?"

On the other side of the house, Ellie had made herself comfortable on the armchair right next to the one Din had been sitting on all night, and she had only one thing in mind: finding out all about the man before her.

"I'm a bounty hunter"

She tilted her head, taking in his words "So you kill people?" she realized "Joel does that too"

Din gave her no answer, silence spread between the two, and she couldn't help but realize that:

"he also doesn't talk a lot- I think you'd get along well"

Din simply glanced at her, before his gaze turned back to the fire.

If she could at least see his face this would all be much easier

"Do you ever take it off- the helmet I mean- don't you get hot?"

A sigh sounded from behind the beskar

"I do, when I'm alone"

"oh" Ellie hummed "Is it like a religious thing?"

This time the man turned to her fully, and although the girl couldn't see him, she was sure he was shooting her an annoyed glare, Just like Joel liked to do... they really would get along well

"no"

A single syllable... quite the loquacious guy he was.

"Where are you from?"

Not even a second had passed and she'd already spoken again, and it was then Mando decided to accept his fate and turn fully towards the much too nosy girl... it was Christmas after all

"It's complicated" he explained, watching the girl scrutinize his hidden face "but I guess you could say Concordia"

"Is that in Europe or something?" Ellie's brow was raised as she inquired confused- she'd never heard of such a place, but then again, she wouldn't exactly be able to put the US on a map either- fedra schools and everything.

"no"

alright then

"cool," she nodded, trying to remember what else she wanted to ask "How did you get here?"

"you ask a lot of questions"

"Joel says that too" she shrugged "What can I say, I'm a curious gal"

Behind the Mandalorian's mask, a small smile pulled at his lips.

"I came here with my ship"

She frowned then "You came here on a boat? What are you some kind of pirate?"

The man shook his head "No, my spaceship"

Ellie's eyes widened so much she must have won some kind of Guinness world record

"w-what?"

"I came here with my spaceship" Mando spoke again, calm as ever

"you're fucking with me" Ellie decided

He was joking- he had to be joking. He was probably just making fun of her.

"I'm not"

"yeah you are"

The man shook his head, sighing

"it's right outside, go look if you want"

She was out of the chair in a split second, quite literally running to the nearest window and elbowing anyone in her way while doing so.

And there it was- a whole ass fucking spaceship parked just in front of the house.

"Oh my fucking god- no fucking way, no fucking way dude" she was excitedly blabbing as she ran back to him

"can... can I see it inside? please, please Mr. Din- pleasepleaseplease"

her voice had gotten higher and she was just about to kneel before him and beg him like you would for mercy when he spoke.

He let out a loud, exasperated sigh "You've gotta ask your dad"

"I'll go ask him right now!" she grinned, excitement oozing from her every pore " and he's not my dad- although he sure likes to act like it"

__ __ __

Joel was in the bathroom, kneeling underneath the sink despite his back's protests.

He'd already figured out what was wrong, so it shouldn't have taken much longer... not that he was in any rush of getting back to the party anyway.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened to his left, and while he was expecting to explain to yet another guest that the bathroom was off limits for a while, he found himself face-to-face with the green guy that man Din had introduced as his friend.

"Uhm- Hi there little guy"

Grogu made a small sound as he walked closer to the man.

"If ya need to use the bathroom I can get out"

Another weird little sound

"I'm sorry buddy I can't understand you"

He was right in front of him now, his big expressive eyes examining him curiously.

He looked like Mando

"ya need to pee?"

Either he was imagining it, or he was getting better at understanding the creature because this time Joel was pretty sure the sound he made was much similar to a no.

"ok..." Joel murmured perplexed "Do ya need something or can I get back to this?" he asked nodding to the sink.

God what a weird fucking conversation- Joel felt like he was in a fever dream.

Once again Grogu chirped something incomprehensible, but his gaze shifted for a moment to the sink, so Joel decided to take that as a yes, and went back to what he was doing.

He was able to ignore the presence beside him for a little while. He was sure that at some point, he would just go away, but minutes kept passing, and the little green guy was still right there.

He turned around then, and as he did, he noticed that Grogu’s eyes weren't only on him, but on what he was doing too.

"I can... show you what 'm doin' if ya want"

Grogu's eyes sparkled with excitement at the proposal, and Joel couldn't help but smile

"Alright then, come closer"

And just like that, he listened, excitedly stumbling closer until he had the whole view of the sink.

“Alright, so you see this pipe here?” Joel asked “This is the cause of all our problems- now the thing is that it’s connected to here” he continued, pointing to the pieces he was referring to “so we can’t fix this if we don’t fix this first”

The man turned around to see confusion written all over the kid, and another small smile split his lips.

“‘s alright, you’ll get the gist of it as we go”

And so he started back up, fixing and turning and switching as he explained each and every single passage to Grogu, who listened avidly- and who as it turns out, was also a very helpful hand.

He did it so casually too-

Joel was trying to reach for a wrench just out of his reach when it was suddenly floating his way.

“what the he-” he’d started before looking right beside him, to the focused green guy who was guiding the tool to him with a simple raised hand

“right” he nodded, trying not to freak out “Right you can do that- thank you”

And from then on, he became his little helper

Can you pass me this? 

can you pass me that?

can you turn this?

can you turn that?

He was going faster than ever with Grogu’s help, and he was even having fun explaining it all to him- it wasn’t often someone was this mesmerized by the process of fixing a sink.

Which is why in no time, he was done.

“there we go- good as new”

It really was- he’d done a hell of a good job with the little guy’s help, and just as he admired it, a voice he knew far too well sounded from the door.

“there you are, I’ve been looking for you!”

Jenna was a nice girl, but he just wasn’t interested.

He had no idea what he’d done to get her so into him, but every opportunity she got, she would corner the poor man and make it impossible for him to escape her.

“Goddamnit” he muttered beneath his breath, his gaze turning to the door “Hi Jenna”

“Hi Joel, you didn’t even come and say hi to me, that’s kind of rude you know- how would you feel if I-”

All of a sudden, the door had shut in her face.

And as protests sounded from the other side, Joel looked to his right to find Grogu lowering his arm while looking at him with what looked like a mischievous glinting in his eyes.

“did you just-?” Joel couldn’t help but laugh now, actually properly laugh “Oh you’re a menace ain’t you lil’ guy?”

His words were only proven even more right when said lil’ guy jumped with what looked like too much strength for such a small thing, right onto his lap.

Again, chuckles spilled from Joel’s lips as he took Grogu into his arms.

“thank you” he smiled “you just saved my ass kid”

As Grogu looked up at him with those big kind eyes and emitted another one of the weird incomprehensible sounds, Ellie’s voice suddenly sounded from the other side of the door.

“Joel open up!” she screamed “Din said I could go on his spaceship!”

He was up in an instant

“His what!?”

__  __  __

Who would have guessed that this is how the night would have ended?

Definitely not Joel

Him, Ellie, Din, and Grogu were in the Mandalorian's spaceship, and while the girl was just about losing her mind, touching and switching every single thing she encountered as Grogu showed her around, the two men were sitting back, watching their own two kids.

“thank you for… this” Joel spoke first

“It’s nothing” Mando promised, his eyes trained on Ellie now “She’s a good kid” he nodded, “she asks a lot of questions…”

“don’t I know it” Joel grumbled, making Mando chuckle

“but she funny- she’s great”

“yeah, she is… great”

It felt underwhelming to describe Ellie as great, but Joel decided this wasn’t the time to focus on semantics “So is Grogu- he helped me with the sink- he’s a good kid”

And so the two men returned to silence as their kids roamed around the spaceship as if searching for a treasure.

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Hiii :) i was wondering if you could write a “mingyu being obsessed with your tits” pretty please??? Thankyouu

Obsessed

requested?: yes pairing(s): kim mingyu x afab!reader genre: smut warning(s): smut (you know the drill), tits appreciation. nipple play, unprotected sex (wrap it up, its getting cold ya'll, its winter), soft sleepy sex, soft mingyu, mentions of older men and men reader's age staring at her (very brief), fingering, (slight) dom to sub!mingyu, aftercare (switched it up a lil and made the reader give mingyu aftercare) summary: 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. word count: 2.1k a/n: hello, thank you so much for the very lovely request. honestly i have been very busy, so i hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me. i hopefully will try and get the two twisted series fics out soon because it has been sitting in my to-do list for quite a while! i also may wrtite a small christmas smut for a special someone i have been crushing on for a while now (coughdrewstarkeycough). but, remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!

it was safe to say that mingyu had always been obsessed with your tits. whenever you wore a dress that was low cut, he could barely focus on anything the whole night that wasn’t your tits. but what he really loved was when you didn’t wear a bra with your shirts, that way he could see your perked up nipples when it was cold. he loved it.

but mingyu has been busy lately, with learning new dances for songs and singing and all the shit idols do, so he never really has much time to fuck you anymore. but, that was an exception for tonight. tonight, there was a really important event, and you had worn a very low cut dress. you got a lot of stares from older men and men your age, but you were glued to mingyu’s side the whole time so none of them ever gawked too much or ever came up to you.

but when it was time to sit and eat with the rest of seventeen, mingyu never took his eyes off of you, or rather, a specific place on you. the only place mingyu ever looked for the entirety of the night was down at your tits that were slightly protruding from your low cut dress.

the rest of the night went by pretty fast, and you had a lot of fun with your boyfriend and his group. and when it was time for you to go home, you sat in the passenger seat like a little princess, all dolled up. you and mingyu had decided since it was pretty late and you were both quite tired that you would shower tomorrow instead of tonight. mingyu kept his hand on your thigh the whole ride home, and when he pulled onto the driveway, he quickly ran around to your side of the car and open your door before you even got the chance to wake up properly.

he walked behind you into the house and helped you take your shoes off since you were extremely tired and still hadn’t woken up properly.

mingyu helped you upstairs to your shared bedroom and helped you out of your skin tight dress. it was amazing how fast he managed to get you out of your clothes and into an oversized t-shirt. you then took your make-up off by yourself while mingyu got changed before letting yourself fall into bed alongside mingyu.

it was safe to say that you were almost half asleep when you felt mingyu place a cold hand on your tits, you jerked back into him, recoiling at how cold his hands were as he moved the other one on your other tit.

“sorry” he mumbled softly as he kisses down your neck slowly from behind you. “needed to warm them up”

he continued to leave open mouth kisses down your neck, very soft and light ones before beginning to suck a little. you felt him pinching and kneading at your now hardened nipples. you let your head rest back on mingyu’s chest as he played with your tits. nothing felt rushed as he slowly moved one hand down to the waistband of your panties.

he slowly dipped a finger in-between your folds and instantly found your clit he rubbed a small circle around it before dipping his fingers down further and before you knew it was slipping a finger in your hole. he instantly curled the finger and pressed his thumb to your clit, applying some pressure and adding another finger into your sopping hole.

you let out a small whimper as he curled the two fingers yet again, making you squirm against him. there was whimper and moans that left your mouth that were so quiet that you would of missed them had you both not been so quiet. mingyu pulled your hips back to him as you tried to buck them away from him. you were nearing your high and you knew it.

“shhh, my love, it’s okay, let go for me” he whispers softly into your ear. you only whimper in response at his raspy voice, clenching around his fingers.

it was another few curls of his fingers and circles of your clit before you clamped down on his hand, trapping it in-between your thighs and crying out. your hips bucked a few times as he helped you ride out your high before pulling his fingers back and sucking them clean, making a noise of satisfaction as he tasted your juices.

“taste so good, baby” he whispers softly against the shell of your ear, placing a few kisses on your neck before you pushed him away softly and turned over to face him. you could now feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach.

your hand travelled down from his shoulder where it was resting, down his chest to his stomach and eventually to the tent in his joggers. you undid the strings and instantly took his thick cock in the palm of your hand. you jerked him a few times, using the pre-cum gathered at the tip as a form of lube before using your other hand to massage his balls.

it didn’t take long before mingyu was whimpering and moaning as pathetically as you were beforehand. you smirked softly as you realised the bucking of his hips meant he was close to reaching his high, his moans beginning to get louder. you had him exactly where you wanted him. you kept going for another few seconds before you took your hands away, leaving your poor boyfriend without an orgasm, he whimpered as he opened his eyes again to look at you.

you then moved the sheets aside and looked down at his joggers which had a small wet patch in the crotch before smirking again and going down to the bottom of the bed and tugging at his joggers. he instantly got the hint and lifted his hips up, helping you to get his joggers off.

you then pulled them off fully and threw them somewhere in the room, you would find them tomorrow. you looked up at mingyu’s flushed face through your lashes as you opened your mouth and lowered your mouth onto his cock. your right hand came up to cup and massage his balls as you lowered your head straight down onto his cock. you gagged slightly, your eyes brimming with tears, but you started bobbing your head nonetheless.

it didn’t take long before mingyu was whimpering your name and practically begging you to let him come down that pretty little throat of yours. and you let him, you bobbed your head a few more times before his lower stomach tensed up and he let out a somewhat loud whimper before his seed painted your throat white. you rode him through his high, still massaging his balls and bobbing your head until he shook with overstimulation.

you pulled your head away from his cock and took your hand away to stop massaging his balls which now had small bits of your saliva running down it. you then opened your mouth to show him you had swallowed every but of him, to which he put his head back in the pillows and muttered a low ‘fuck’.

you rubbed your thighs together with a small smirk before clambering on top of him and straddling his pelvis. his cock perked up again because you felt his hard length pressing against your ass. you wiggled your hips slightly, just to tease him a little, which resulted in a small groan along with his hands gripping your hips tightly and throwing his head back in the pillows.

“you want me to ride you baby?” you ask sweetly, wiggling your hips again. he only groaned slightly in approval, but you frowned and spoke again, “gonna have to do better than that, baby. use your words for me, hm?” you coo.

“please” he says breathily “ride me please” he whines.

“oh good boy” you coo again, though this time closer to his ear as you kissed your way down his neck to his shoulders, leaving bites every so often. “no touching or i’ll stop, yeah?” you say, sitting back up straight on his lap, he nodded softly, thinking it would be easy.

you weren’t going to make it easy, so you took your shirt off.

mingyu swallowed hard when he saw your tits, itching to reach out for them and massage them, touch them, roll your nipples, anything. he just wanted to touch them so damn bad. you smirked when you saw that his hands twitched, wanting to touch you, but restraining himself, knowing the consequences. you kissed down his chest lightly before deciding to stop teasing and just ride him.

you slowly lined his cock up with your dripping hole before slowly sinking down onto him. you moaned softly, throwing your head back as you reached the base of his cock. mingyu let out a groan in satisfaction, trying to keep his hands at his sides. you let yourself adjust to the size of him, wiggling your hips lightly, earning a small whimper from the man beneath you.

you smiled softly and leaned down to kiss him softly before sitting back up on his cock and lifting yourself up. you let yourself fall back down on his length, moaning as his cock filled you up so well. mingyu loved your snug walls around you any time of day, and when you lifted your hips up to drop them back down onto his length, you could’ve sworn you heard a pathetic little moan slip out from his mouth.

you grin widely as you look down at him, his eyes lidded and lust-filled.

“being such a good boy” you praise, grinding your hips down onto his again, creating the best friction against your clit and causing his tip to prod at your cervix. you looked down and saw the small bump in your stomach caused by his cock and smiled even wider, if that was even possible. “look what you do to me baby” mingyu looked down and instantly threw his head back, letting out a small whimper.

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, you laughed lightly before beginning to bounce on him again. you placed your hands on his chest for a bit of leverage, your pace beginning to quicken. mingyu let out small whimpers and moans when you began kissing up and down his chest. instead of bouncing, you were now grinding. you then sat back up after you had left a few marks on him.

this time, you were now bouncing with so much force that your tits were bouncing as you did so. mingyu never took his eyes off your bare chest, this was your favourite position for the both of you, the only downside being that your thighs got tired very fast, which they were now.

mingyu must have sensed this because he started to thrust up into you with a force that had you mewling and panting like a dog in heat. you could feel the burn in your stomach, the desire, the need to come.

“gonna-gonna come” you say through pants. mingyu smiled softly but then let out a small whimper as your walls clamped down on him. you were getting closer every time you lifted your hips and slammed them back down again, mingyu matching your thrusts.

you could feel a mouth close around your left nipple, sucking and biting softly, and your other tit getting massaged. and weirdly enough, that was the thing that threw you over the edge, making you come so good.

mingyu was still thrusting up into you, helping you ride out your high while moving his attention to your other breast, beginning to suck and nip at the right one and massaging your left.

he kept his mouth around your nipple, continuing to such while he came with small muffled whimpers. you felt his seed cover your insides, painting your silky walls white with his come.

you were both panting when he pulled away from your tits, admiring your fucked out state. he was still inside of you when he picked you up and brought you to the bathroom. you slowly sat him down on the toilet seat before climbing off him and running a bath. he was going to stand up himself and do it before you pushed him back down.

“let me take care of you, baby” you said softly, he nodded and sat back down again.

you finished running the bath and allowed him to get in. you sat down facing him and washed his body for him, as well as his sweaty hair and face. you then washed yourself and sat in the bath for a little while together until you both got out and got dressed for bed again.

you were laying as you had been prior to all of your ‘fun’. you felt a hand creep up your stomach to your tits, and when you looked behind you, you saw mingyu sound asleep, and not long later, you joined him.

[noblehouseofgay]

Home Alone

Rosekiller microfic

Little Luna and implied pandalily

Home Alone au

Dedicated to these freaks that I am very emotionally attached to, Merry Xmas guys: @shouldhavebeenarockstar @allonsy-moony @maraudering-times @marauders-brain-rot @caiizawa @hexa-ro @drowninkystar @the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Quiet chatter filled the winter night air as Barty and Evan walked up to the door.

"No but it was funny because Regulus was-" Barty paused when he realized his key wouldn't go into the lock. "That's strange." He tried again as Evan used his phone light to check it.

"It looks- it looks sealed." Even stood back up. Their eyes widened as they looked at each other.

"Home Alone."

Last week, Pandora had invited everyone over for a movie night. They had watched Home Alone and even that night they could tell Luna had loved the movie.

Now, on a night they expected to be an easy babysitting night, they had been cast as the wet bandits and had to get into this booby trapped house.

Luna was a clever kid.

It wouldn't be easy.

Or safe.

Evan knocked on the door. "Lunes? It's us. Can we come in?"

Nothing.

Barty sighed. "I'll try the back door, you wait here." Evan nodded and Barty made his way around the back of the house.

"Looney Tunes? It's Uncle Bat." He grabbed the door knob and immediately yelped in pain. "Fuck! Luna!" The metal had been electric somehow and had completely zapped his hand. Barty shook his hand, trying to gain back feeling in it.

"Luna we have to come in eventually!" He shook his head, looking for his next option.

🥀

Meanwhile back out front, Evan had gotten a window open, he climbed inside carefully. He watched where his feet stepped, making sure to not step on the toy cars below him. He scoffed. "Those aren't even Luna's those are Harry's."

He managed to stand on solid ground unscathed, but he didn't think to look up until a bucket of freezing cold water came crashing down on his head. "Oh fuck-" Evan tried to dodge but it was no use. If he stepped wrong he'd slip, so he simply accepted his icy fate.

He groaned and rubbed his head. "Oh you are so grounded when I find you, kid."

💀

Barty had managed to pry the door open after ten minutes of trying. He slammed it open, looking around. He carefully stepped inside the cellar. As he went to take another step, his foot wouldn't move.

He looked down to find glue covering the steps. "Bloody hell." He ripped off his shoes, throwing them in various directions. With his next step, his socks were pulled off. When he finally he reached the door, he flung it open and skipped the last stair.

He stomped inside, finding Evan standing in the living room.

"You're wet."

"Your shoes are missing."

"Have you seen her yet?"

As if summoned, a small voice came from upstairs. "You boys done, or are you thirsty for more?"

Both of them looked up to see Luna sitting on the stairs with a nerf gun.

"Luna- we can talk about thi-" Her aim was perfect. She hit Barty right in the mouth, firing ten foam bullets at him and effectively shutting him up. Barty dove to the side, slamming into Evan and knocking them both to the ground.

Luna could be heard laughing and running away.

Evan sighed in frustration. "Really, Bee?"

"I didn't know she'd bloody shoot me!"

Evan sighed and shoved his boyfriend off him, standing up. "We have two options. We either give up since we're at least in the house now."

"Or?"

Evan smirked slightly. "Or we play into it and give her a little show."

Barty's eyes flickered with something dangerous, his smirk matching Evan's. "I bloody love your brain." Barty pulled his boyfriend in and kissed him.

He grimaced slightly. "I forgot you're wet."

"Did you also forget when you fell on top of me?"

Barty looked down at his wet shirt. "Oh. Yeah I did. Well I was busy with darts being shot down my throat."

"Have something else you'd prefer down your throat?"

"You know it, Rosie."

Evan hummed. "Later. Right now we've got a kid to entertain." He marched up the stairs, walking right over a trip wire.

Barty yelped behind him as a paint can came swinging towards him, only narrowly missing his head. "She's gonna bloody kill us!"

Evan shrugged. "Possibly. She is Pandora and Lily's kid afterall."

"A combination made in hell surely. She's too smart for 7 years old."

Evan snorted, walking further down the hall. They made their way to Luna's door, eyeing each other before slowly opening it.

The door opened and it was quiet. Silence. No movement.

"This cannot be a good thing."

They walked in carefully, Barty's eyes on the ground and Evan's eyes looking around them.

"Alright kid, time's up, we're here."

"Is that a fact?" Luna's small voice came from behind them. They turned to find her pushing a small button.

"Luna-"

Immediately ropes came around them, tying them up and knocking them on their asses.

Luna cackled and plopped down in front of Barty and Evan.

"Hello uncles." Her voice was so sweet. So deceiving.

"Luna."

She blinked innocently.

"I am so bloody proud of you! This was so well done!" Barty laughed.

Evan sighed. "We should be punishing her, Bee...but it was cool." A smile creeped onto his face as he looked at his niece. "But you do realize you have to clean this up before your mum comes right?"

Luna pouted. "I know. But it was fun."

"It was. Now untie us. I'm beat, kid."

Luna smiled and untied her uncles. Both of them stood up and hugged her.

Barty lifted her onto his shoulders. "Now next time, you include you got it? I know some old tricks that'd work on your Uncle Reggie."

Evan just laughed and shook his head as the three walked out of the room to clean up the absolute disaster that was the Lovegood Residence.

[marcell-arts]

Hey, little songbird

Viago de Riva & Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook | T | Fluff/Drama/Comedy

When it comes to poisons, Rook trusts no one more than Viago de Riva. Surely he can find out what's wrong with her, before its too late.

---

Or, Rook is pregnant, and Viago is the first to find out.

"Maybe we should just give up," Rook said hopelessly, about a week into their strict regime. She was sitting by the balcony, where Viago insisted she get some fresh air. It was a balmy Summer day, and the sea breeze was lovely, but she was wishing she were anywhere but here. It was getting lonely without her friends, and only an increasingly frustrating Viago for company.

"No, Rook, we are not giving up," he said flatly, not even looking up from where he was annotating her reaction to the last antidote. Thankfully, it was mild this time, but still showed little improvement to her health. "You did not kill Elven gods, vanquish the Blight and save the world, only to die to this bizarre poison." 

She sighed and rocked backwards. "It's been a week already though! How can a poison's symptoms last for this long without killing me?" 

He hummed. "Some effects can last weeks from point of contact," he replied, "Although admittedly, it is strange you are seeing no improvement at all, and no deterioration. One of these ought to have done something." He looked up. "Are you sure you don't have any more symptoms? Anything different?"

"No," she said sullenly, with the petulance of a child, "I still feel nauseous and light-headed every morning. And I still have no energy most of the day." She flung the book she had on her lap across the room. It bounced sadly on the bed.

He sighed and put down his quill. "Rook. You know I am just trying to help." 

"...I know that," she said quietly. She turned to face him fully, suddenly emotional. "Of course I know that. I trust you. I know you're doing everything you can. But I just wanted…" She exhaled in frustration. "I wanted everything to be normal again! I just wanted a break from it all. From saving the world! And now I'm stuck here, and I can't even enjoy a holiday with my friends in the sun! It's just not—" 

"Not fair," Viago finished understandingly, "I know. It's not. You deserve it more than anyone." 

To both their horror, she started crying. Fat tears filled her eyes and spilled uncontrollably down her face. She sniffled loudly and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand angrily. "Maker!" she huffed, "Why am I—I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm getting emotional." 

Viago got up to lend her his handkerchief. While he had never been good at handling women in hysterics, his ongoing relationship with Teia had made him generally more sensitive to their moods. He patted her shoulder a little awkwardly. 

"It's fine," he said quietly, "I know. It's a frustrating situation." But the miserable sight of her had something stirred uncomfortable in his gut.

It wasn't surprising she was frustrated—but it was surprising that she showed it, he thought. Even as a child, she had been good at putting up a positive front. Of course, she trusted him enough to not hide her emotions, but she never liked to worry him if she could help it. To not be able to handle her feelings now… was this also a symptom?

He racked his brain to think of a poison that could cause increased emotional outbursts. It was a bizarre side-effect, but not out of the realm of possibility. Though what would the poisoner be trying to attempt with this? Unless… was it not poison at all?

He glanced at her, blowing her nose loudly into silk he would probably never touch again. If it wasn't poison, then perhaps this was an ailment of some kind. A sickness of the mind? Or a disease of the body? A condition that caused nausea, dizziness, lethargy, and proneness to emotional—

His face went white. His fingers on her shoulder tightened uncontrollably. 

"Ow! Viago, what are you doing?" she winced, shaking herself from his grip. She looked up to see his head bowed, and a fine sheen of sweat on his neck. "...Viago? Are you alright?" 

He wasn't sure what he was going to say. 

"Viago?" There was concern in her voice. 

Viago shakily moved to sit on the armchair opposite her. His hair had fallen forward, shielding his eyes.

"Viago, you're scaring me. What is it?" she whispered. "Am I… dying?" 

"Rook…" his voice was unnervingly calm, but the wild eyes that met hers were not. Piercing blue and wide with fear. "Are you… could you possibly be…" He wet his lips nervously. "...Are you with child?" 

Read the rest on ao3

[okaysonny]

the one where they lose yenna ╎ zack + johan

❤️ @always-lovingly — hope you like it!

ᯓ★ summary: eli bestows zack with the greatest honour: babysitting yenna. nothing will go wrong, right?

ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, spoilers for 517 onwards, canon dynamics. (aka zack and johan's relationship is platonic)

ᯓ★ wc: 3.4k - on the longer side...sorry

ᯓ★ A/N: I HATED MAKING THIS!!! comedy is really hard to write + i feel like i waffled too much... made a post about it, but this fic is drawn from s2, ep6 of friends (the one with the baby on the bus)

how did they get ben back with no paperwork/confirmation? idk but it makes my job easier #yes

divider: @thecutestgrotto

"what? you want me to look after zami tomorrow?"

"…her name is yenna" eli smiles at him sheepishly. "and yes. i have to unexpectedly work at the fruit stall. derek got a stomach bug and there's no one to cover for him. plus, the daycares closed on saturdays. would you mind?"

"…eli…i can't believe this…"

of course. eli should've expected this. what eighteen year old wants to spend their saturday babysitting?

"sorry zack. don't worry about it. i'll get someone else to— "

"i can't believe you're trusting me to babysit zam— i mean yenna!" a beam of light is practically shining on him.

eli blinks. he swears he can see zack's eyes well up.

"do you really trust me to? you really think i'm worthy?!"

well, he wasn't expecting that. eli laughs softly, shaking his head. "well…you visit her a lot and you're really great with her. i think you'd do a good job"

zack covers his mouth, trying not to cry in front of the beauty department's only guy. he does visit yenna a lot. how can he not? the fact that the baby he found happened to be eli's daughter…it felt like fate.

he coughs into his hand, composing himself, before looking at eli with determination - the determination of being the best babysitter in the world. "…it would be my honour"

eli smiles softly. he was hesitant in entrusting yenna with someone who misnames her half the time. but now, he doesn't regret it one bit.

"…thanks, zack"

"oh…you really came prepared, huh?"

zack has come prepared. he still owns that baby carrier from before. he also wears something without buttons this time. and he still uses gel, but not too much gel, because the spikes could stab her.

"of course!" he nods enthusiastically. "only the best for zam— yenna! mesh ventilation to ensure maximum comfort!"

eli can't help but chuckle. "that's…very nice of you"

with one hand, eli hands zack a list of instructions and a bag of supplies. his other hand is holding yenna, as adorable as she always is.

"…if anything happens, call me. i'll try make it back as soon as possible" he hesitantly hands yenna over, her little hands grabbing at zack's face.

"ba!" she squeals.

his eyes light up. "zam— yenna!" he cradles her head gently. "don't worry, eli ! she's safe with me!"

he nods, exhaling slowly. he reaches out to stroke her hair fondly. "you have a good time with uncle zack, okay? i'll be back before you know it" he whispers.

eli steps back, checking the time on his phone. "shoot, i need to go. you'll be fine, right?"

zack grins, using yenna's hand to give him a little wave. "yes, yes. go and chop fruit or whatever"

eli waves back and zack watches as his figure slowly gets smaller. he looks down at her, speaking with conviction.

"alright, zami. uncle zack will give you the best day of your life"

"what the hell, man? why'd you bring a baby here?"

okay, so saturday just happened to coincide with his study session. but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

zack hastily covers her ears. "don't swear in front of yenna! this is eli's daughter, y'know?! i'm an uncle on babysitting duty"

johan looks down at yenna with a mix of contempt and confusion, her big eyes staring back at him.

"ba?"

she's holding a baton with the top of a toy wand attached to it. his brows furrow, remembering his fight with eli.

Are you messing with me? What's with the toy?

whoops. in his defense, how was he meant to know?

johan sighs in exasperation and closes his book. "we're not getting anything done if she's here. by the way, don't expect me to help, alright? you're on your own"

"hmph. yenna doesn't want to hear your obscenities anyway" he pats her head protectively.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, okay"

yenna suddenly starts smacking her baton-wand against the edge of the table, the smile never leaving her face.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

zack stares at the wand, already dented from her relentless attack on the furniture.

"alright yenna, that's enough of that" he says nervously, gently prying it out of her hand. she immediately starts to fuss, her big eyes tearing up.

johan glares at him. "nice job, genius. now she's going to cry"

"hush!" zack snaps. he waves the wand awkwardly in front of yenna’s face. "see, yenna? it's all better!"

yenna, unimpressed, lets out a wail that could rival a siren.

johan groans and presses his fingers to his temples. "you need to get something to keep her quiet. a softer toy maybe"

zack perks up at the suggestion. "hey, we should go to the city! we can grab something real quick!"

"we?"

"yes, we. you're not sitting on your ass while i do this alone" he grumbles.

johan stares at him in disbelief, but yenna’s cries grow louder, and he visibly gives in. “fine. but if she screams on the bus, i'm out”

zack grins, already packing up. he turns to yenna with a cheerful voice. "alright princess, let’s go find you the perfect toy!"

"...gross"

"you're gross" he mumbles, as they make their way to the bus stop.

zack awkwardly adjusts the baby carrier strapped to his chest, yenna wriggling furiously against him.

“why is she squirming so much?” johan asks, sitting in the seat across from him, his arms folded.

“she’s probably uncomfortable” zack shifts the straps again. yenna lets out an irritated whine, kicking her tiny feet against his stomach. “c’mon, work with me here…”

johan leans back. “maybe she can sense you have no idea what you’re doing”

“real helpful, johan. you wanna take over?” he glares at him while holding the carrier steady.

“pass”

“yeah, that’s what i thought” zack adjusts the carrier again, but yenna’s whining only gets louder. people start glancing over, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.

“okay, okay. hang on” he sighs in defeat, unbuckling the straps, gently lifting yenna out of the carrier and onto his lap.

“so now you’re happy, huh?” zack mutters. yenna’s only response is a delighted giggle as she smacks his knee with her baton-wand.

“you’re spoiling her” johan comments, deadpan.

“what do you know about babies, johan?”

he shrugs. "if you say so"

yenna, meanwhile, starts squirming again, clearly eager to explore her surroundings.

“you wanna stretch those tiny legs?” zack carefully sets her down on the floor of the bus. she stands unsteadily for a moment, then takes a few steps, laughing as she bangs her toy against the metal pole by their seats.

“...are you seriously letting her walk around here?”

“she needs some freedom!” zack defends himself, his eyes flicking between yenna and johan. "she's only a baby, it’s not like she’s gonna go far"

“...right”

“calm down. i'm watching her!” zack beams confidently, leaning back in his seat while keeping one eye on yenna.

for a moment, the two of them sit in silence, the bus rumbling along as she continues her wobbly exploration of the aisle.

“...y’know, you’re pretty calm for someone who's scared of babies”

johan shoots him a glare. “i’m not scared of babies”

“you totally are! the look on your face when she said ‘ba’ was priceless”

johan’s eyes narrow. “keep talking and i’ll make you ‘ba’ yourself”

they continue bickering, their voices overlapping as yenna toddles around the aisle, occasionally smacking the bus poles with her baton-wand.

the bus screeches to a halt at their stop. zack stands up, slinging the bag full of baby supplies over his shoulder. "alright, this is us"

johan follows closely behind as they get off, stepping onto the bustling city street. the sound of car horns and chatter fill the air, and zack immediately starts scanning the area.

“so” johan drawls, looking around. “what exactly are we looking for? a squeaky duck? a magic wand that doesn’t double as a weapon?”

“something soft, like you said” zack adjusts the straps of the carrier on his shoulder. "i never want to hear that banging noise again"

johan opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. his eyes flick down, then back up to zack, his face suddenly paling.

“...zack?” his voice is unusually tense.

“what?” zack asks distractedly, glancing around for a toy store.

johan's face is laced with panic.

“where’s the baby?”

“what are you talking about? she’s right—”

but she isn't. he glances down at the empty carrier on his shoulders, his voice catching in his throat.

we left her on the bus.

"johan, you rat!" zack snarls. "how could you forget about our child?"

"how the fuck is this my fault? you’re the one babysitting her!" johan snarls back. "and what do you mean our child?"

the argument attracts curious stares from passerby.

zack waves his hand dismissively, his movements frantic. "who cares?!" he yells, sprinting off. "we need to catch that fucking bus!"

zack hears johan groan, but his footsteps quickly follow after, the bus luckily still in sight as it makes a turn.

"it's fine!" zack pants. "we just need to alert the bus driver and it'll be fine!"

they turn around the corner, but stop in their tracks.

they're both flabbergasted as it's joined by two other identical buses on their route, the traffic blocking the vehicles out of sight regardless. something out of a 90's sitcom.

zack's lip begins to tremble. he's a dead man. will he die without knowing mira's touch?

he aggressively shakes his fist at the sky. "OH COMPASSIONATE BUDDHA!!! why have you forsaken me?"

"...what the fuck? relax. let's just..." johan pants, trying to catch his breath. "let's just think, okay? there's gotta be a way to fix this"

they both stand in contemplation.

they can fix this, right?

"thank you! please come again~" eli hands over the bag of fruit cheerfully, waving the customer goodbye.

his smile falters.

strange. he suddenly has a weird feeling.

he shakes his head, shrugging it off. it's probably nothing, he says to himself.

"the transit authority!" zack exclaims, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head. "the bus drivers' hand all lost property to them. we just need to call and let them know we left a baby! she has to be with them! no idiot would leave a baby on the bus!"

johan nods, both of them blissfully unaware of the irony. "i was gonna say that"

zack scoffs. "sure you were. now, all we need to do is—"

zack's phone rings. he looks at the screen, his eyes widening in horror.

"i-it's eli" he stammers.

a smile tugs on johan's lips, slightly amused. he gestures to the phone. "answer it. it's gonna look suspicious if you don't"

zack glares at him, but doesn't argue. he breathes out slowly before accepting it.

"eli !" his voice is incredibly high pitched. "what's up? shouldn't you be chopping lemons or something?"

"i'm on my break" he laughs. "i just wanted to check in. is everything okay, zack?"

"everything's fine!" he chirps. "me and yenna are having a great time!"

"...that's good. would you mind putting her on the phone? i want to hear her voice" he says gently.

fuck.

johan smirks, not even trying to hide it anymore, watching zack in anticipation.

zack closes his eyes, pausing.

he does the only thing that comes to mind, shoving the phone near johan's mouth. the latter's face drops.

what the hell are you doing? he mouths.

zack covers the phone so eli can't hear.

"act like a baby" he hisses.

"over my dead body"

"just do it, you hobo! or i'll tell your mom you failed english again" he glares.

"...you wouldn't"

"wanna find out?"

"um...zack?" eli speaks up again. "what's going on? is she—"

"...goo goo?" johan squeaks, removing zack's hand from the speaker.

zack winces. he's heard better acting in porn.

radio silence.

"is she okay? she sounds a bit—"

"i think she needs a diaper change! bye eli !" he hangs up quickly.

johan stares daggers at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. "i'm gonna beat your ass"

zack shrugs, googling the number for the transit authority. "you can beat my ass after we find zami"

"...i thought her name was yenna?"

the human resources department is a picture of monotony, the ticking of the clock being the loudest sound in the room. the clerk behind the desk often jokes to himself that he lives in a time loop. every day was the same — forms to file, complaints to process, and the occasional awkward phone call. nothing ever changes, and he's stopped expecting it to.

until today.

the phone on his desk buzzes, cutting through the endless drone of routine.

“transit authority here” the caller begins briskly. “we’ve got a...situation. someone called claiming they left a baby on one of our buses”

the man blinks, the pen in his hand frozen mid-air. “a baby?”

“yeah. a little girl. we’ve got her safe now, but we’re bringing her over to your department, since...you know, you handle these things” the voice sounds exasperated, as if they can’t believe they're saying this either.

he swivels slightly in his chair, still trying to process the information. “so, wait. someone just...left their baby on the bus?”

“that’s what we’ve been told” the caller says with an audible sigh. “the guy on the phone sounded panicked. i told him to go to your building”

"...what kind of idiot leaves their baby on a bus?"

“i’m asking myself the same question”

hanging up the phone, the clerk leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.

this is new.

he glances at the clock, bracing himself for what kind of man would walk through the door.

or men, he should say.

the door to the department bursts open, startling the clerk so badly he nearly knocks over his coffee. his head snaps up, expecting one man, but instead, there were two.

they both look like they just sprinted a marathon. the first, a broad shouldered guy with a baby carrier strapped awkwardly across his chest, is hunched over, gasping for air. his face bore the genuine panic of someone who just lost something irreplaceable.

the second young man follows behind him, his sharp eyes darting around the room, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

the clerk stares at them, dumbfounded, as they both stand there panting. finally, he clears his throat, glancing at the baby carrier. “so… i’m guessing you’re here for the baby?”

"y-yes! the baby...we called about the baby! is she here?" zack heaves.

"...she's here"

zack and johan sigh in relief.

"is one of you the father?"

zack rubs his neck shyly. "ah...well no, but we know her very well. can we collect her?"

the older man crosses his arms. "if neither of you are, you'll need to call one of her parents, so we can confirm guardianship"

fuck.

zack looks at johan in wordless communication. it'll be awkward. it'll be difficult. but they both know what they have to do.

"w-what i meant to say was..." zack slowly wraps an arm around johan's shoulder, cursing his sudden high pitched voice. "we're actually both the fathers"

zack leans his head against johan's, trying to control his trembling lip as he smiles sweetly.

the clerk presses his own lips into a thin line, not looking convinced.

johan sighs and briefly scrunches his nose before laying his hand on top of zack's, leaning into his touch. his smile is incredibly fake and plastered. he's afraid he'll commit murder otherwise.

"mhm..." johan manages to croak out.

radio silence.

if the clerk doesn't believe them, it seems he doesn't care enough to press further. he shrugs, gesturing to the door at the back. "alright. right this way—"

that's all they need to hear before they bolt to the door, flinging it open.

yenna is sitting on a small cot, gripping her beloved baton-wand in one hand. she’s completely unbothered, her big eyes scanning the room with innocent curiosity. she gives the wand a few lazy taps against the cot, unaware of the trouble they had to go through.

the moment zack spots her, he rushes over, scooping her up without hesitation. “yenna! we’re so sorry! your uncles are so sorry” he says, his voice filled with guilt. he hugs her tightly, rocking her gently. “uncle zack won't let this happen again, okay? never, ever”

standing just behind him, johan watches silently. "...you’re so ridiculous" he mutters. but zack knows he doesn't mean it. he knows him too well to not spot the softness in his voice.

he doesn’t look back, too wrapped up in stroking yenna's back. "couldn't care less, mommy's boy"

as zack shifts yenna in his arms, her tiny hand stretches out behind him, her fingers reaching for johan. johan hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her outstretched hand, before gently taking her little fingers in his big ones. the room is quiet, the world around them seeming to pause.

johan’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile, one he doesn’t realise he’s wearing. he gently plays with her fingers, a silent exchange passing between them.

zack glances over his shoulder and freezes when he spots it.

a slow grin spreads across his face. “i knew it!” he blurts out, triumphant. “i knew you secretly felt the same way!”

johan's ears turn faintly pink but he doesn't let go of yenna’s hand. “...shut up”

zack snickers. “you don’t fool me anymore! everyone knows you’re actually a big softie”

johan grits his teeth, his grip not leaving her fingers. "whatever, man"

they don't see the clerk silently watching them through the door, his hand hovering over its knob.

he did think they were lying. they were way too jittery to be convincing.

but the sight of the scene made him stop. the broader one, cradling the baby so protectively and murmuring apologies with a guilt-stricken face.

the other, quieter one, gently holding the baby’s hand with a softness that doesn’t match his standoffish appearance.

it’s a moment so tender, so raw, that the clerk pauses, his hand lowering from the door knob. maybe he was being too narrow-minded.

he shakes his head with a bemused smile and turns away, leaving them to their privacy. as he walks back to his desk, he mutters to himself.

"what a progressive world we live in"

after parting ways with johan, who pats yenna's head for a little too long, he sits on a bench, waiting for eli's return.

"okay zami. you had a good time with uncle zack and uncle johan, alright? nothing crazy happened"

"ba!" she chirps back, as if she understands.

zack nods solemnly. "good"

"zack! hey!"

he sees eli walk over, sally with him.

zack spots eli's jaw tense a little less as he sees yenna safe and sound. she instantly reaches out, squealing at the sight of him.

"there you are..." eli beams, gently carrying her. "did you have a good time with uncle zack?" he says softly.

yenna aggresively shakes the wand in response.

he laughs and then looks up at zack. "so, how was it? did she give you much trouble?"

he waves a hand dismissively. "of course not! cool as a breeze. no problems at all"

"wow" sally grins. "eli, you should have him babysit more often!"

eli smiles, his gaze shifting back to yenna. "yeah...thanks a lot zack. i was worried because you hung up suddenly...i guess i was just being paranoid"

i'm off the hook! zack tries not to appear too excited.

he sighs, looking pleased with himself. "psh. don't worry. just had to focus all my attention on her. i'd never leave her out of my sight"

he nods, removing some lint from her clothes. "yeah, i get it. seriously, thanks a—"

he pauses, his smile suddenly dropping.

"hey zack?"

"...yes?" he looks up in anticipation.

is he gonna promote me as official babysitter?

eli turns yenna around, lifting her dress up slightly to reveal a big, bold PROPERTY OF HUMAN SERVICES stamp.

"what's this?" he asks, his voice a little too sweet.

zack's face drops. he can feel comical sweat beads appearing on his forehead.

"w-well that's uh..." he begins, but the words don't form.

eli silently hands yenna to sally, the grin now wiped clean from her face, being replaced with awkwardness instead.

eli smiles at him as he walks closer, pulling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles.

"sally? please cover her eyes" he says quietly, his stare never leaving zack.

"wait eli !" he splutters. "let's just talk about this! it was—"

PUNCH

"owww! fuck! okay fine! just watch the hair—"

PUNCH

A/N: posted this on boxing day because zack is a BOXER 💜

[highonmarvel]

Heyy love your work. I wanted to make a request for Bucky Barne was thinking something like reader goes to his house for Christmas but then he forcefully drugs her with a syringe and she's held captive. But he's overal nice enough. He'd let her kick or scream or fight back. But then one day he lets her out of the basement or wherever he keeps her and she tries to escape and succeeds to some degree He manages to catch her and he snaps, gets angry and punishes her and she's scared cuz he snapped.

Winter

i love this! i’m sorry this isn’t proofread—i’m late as is and needed to get this out into the world so at least some people can read this as they lie in bed and have it be relevant. also, i’m so sorry, i left out the syringe bit because i got too into the plot i conjured up with the food coma here, sorry, sweetheart, but please, send another request if you really want to see it get done. let me know your thoughts, also to my sister @thehydraethereal. with that out of the way:

Bucky Barnes: A Christmas dinner opens your eyes to a new type of Winter.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of torture. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are not comfortable with explicit descriptions of physical violence. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I can not stress this enough. I am fucked up.

It wasn’t that you were technically averse to relationships or had commitment issues, you just feel like at this point in your life a solid relationship wasn’t really going to work. You had been travelling to the other side of the country quite a bit to take care of your sister, but this Christmas, your parents went down, so you didn’t really have an excuse to bail when Bucky invited you to dinner.

You don’t think you’re technically dating him–you don’t ever recall you or him asking the other to be their partner–but you’ve at least been going out with him for a few months. Guess you’d have to face him at some point; it’s been nearly three weeks since he had suggested you live together, which had caught you completely off-guard. You had managed to side-step the conversation at the time before making up some bullshit excuse to leave, and you haven’t had the courage to face him since.

Pulling into Bucky’s driveway always makes you feel a little uneasy; he doesn’t live like a hermit or overly secluded, but for some reason the houses in this suburb seem just a little too far apart for comfort–no one really has ‘neighbours.’

The scent of a very well-cooked meal carries right up to the front door, making you take a deep whiff before knocking.

“Hi, honey,” Bucky answers the door, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“God, I’m practically drooling out here,” you say, and Bucky laughs as he steps out of the way and allows you in. “How long have you been standing?”

“Ah, a few hours,” he admits, sheepishly, watching you hang your coat up and rubbing the back of his neck when you raise your eyebrows at him.

“But it’s just the two of us, no?” you question as you lead him into the kitchen (maybe you being so casual in his home gave him the impression you’d like to move in with him).

“Yeah,” he replies, tailing you. “But I realised I don’t really know what you like and I panicked a bit.”

You giggle and that seems to ease his apparent embarrassment, allowing him to let out a breathless laugh as he moves into the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as you settle on a stool.

“How have you been?” he inquires as he pours you a glass of wine, not making eye contact.

“Alright,” you reply, watching the red liquid slosh into the glass. “Glad to have some time off.”

“How’s your sister?”

You sigh and mouth a thank you to him as he slides the glass towards you. After a sip, you look up at him. “Better, I think, and she’s only allowed two visitors at a time–my parents really wanted to see her so I let them for Christmas, they don’t really get a chance otherwise.”

He hums in understanding as he puts on pink oven mitts and crouches down.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks loudly as he pulls a dish out of the oven.

You shrug. “I’d have liked to go, but I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t have much going for me in New York, so I was worried I’d be bored, but I’m having a good time.

“You just got here!” He laughs as he rises with a turkey.

“I know, but wine.” You raise your glass to him and peer into the ceramic dish. “Turkey?” you ask, which he responds to with a hum of affirmation.

“I don’t really like it, not sure if you do.”

“I like it. I would have thought you patriots like Thanksgiving stuff, though.”

You help him set up a few dishes across a small dining table and sit down.

“This was really sweet, Bucky.” You smile, tone sincere and nearly sappy as he cuts you a large leg of turkey. “Doesn’t this stuff make you sleepy?” you joke, and it takes him just a beat too long to chuckle.

“I think that’s a myth, actually,” he responds as he sits back down across from you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows as you dig your knife and fork into the leg. “I could have sworn...”

“Is it good?” he asks, watching you carefully, and with a kind of interest that makes you slightly uneasy, but you can’t deny it’s heavenly. You nod enthusiastically and point to the meat.

“God, this is great! You’d swear there was cocaine in here or something.”

Something lights in his eyes for a second, a spark you mistake for happiness. Bucky has always loved nothing more than to see you happy and relaxed: one of the reasons you were so drawn to him was his genuine desire to not only make you as happy as possible, but to appreciate that joy. Sometimes you got the impression making you happy pleased him almost as much as it pleased you, if not more. And it was times like these you felt bad you weren’t really able to make a commitment to him. He never seemed to mind it all too much, but you can tell it’s something he wants, and you almost feel like you’re taking advantage of his affection–but he knows, and you know, and if he isn’t happy with this arrangement, surely he’d say something.

But Bucky has to bite back the retort, “Well, not that drug.”

After a hearty meal you only put down when you feel you’re genuinely on the verge of passing out, you push away your plate. “Woo! I don’t know how I’m ever gonna work that off. I think I’ve gained, like, 10.”

“You're perfect the way you are,” Bucky says, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek as he clears the table.

You close your eyes and hum in delight, but you find it a little hard to open them again. When you manage to pry your eyes open again, it’s not much, still looking at the table through droopy lids. You stand and sway, rattling your chair as you grapple the table for support.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks as he reappears in your line of sight, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” you respond, squeezing your eyes shut and ripping them open again. “But I really should get going.”

“Get going?” he repeats, moving to your side for support as you stumble forward. “I don’t think you should drive right now.”

But you dismiss him with a wave of your hand, pushing off of him to stand up straight. You think you say, “I’m fine. I’ll call you.” but you can’t really make out the words through the slight slurring.

“Lie down,” he offers gently, taking a step towards his bedroom.

“No…” you tear your arm free of his grasp. You had spent the night with him before, but for a reason you can’t figure out, this time, something is screaming at you to decline.

“Really, darling, you need to,” he insists, his voice having dropped to a low murmur. He takes a step forward and you instinctively take a step back, feeling a little guilty when he stops dead in his tracks and something like hurt flashes across his features. You know something that makes Bucky wince is when he feels someone is afraid of him, and you can only imagine how he must feel now if you’re the one displaying apprehension.

You shake your head and turn away from him to the doorway.

“Hey...” You startle as you feel his grip on your forearm, gentle, but firm. “You’re not leaving.” The words are said in a sincerely concerned way, but the fact the statement came off as more of a command than a suggestion really triggers something in you.

“Bucky...” you groan as you uselessly try to pull away, feeling weaker than you otherwise would, even against him.

He doesn’t have to give too sharp of a tug to make you stumble into his arms, his hold on you steady, and, at any other time, safe, but now it feels more certain, somehow, almost possessive. You try to protest but you’re practically babbling incoherently under him, head lolled to the side as he adjusts his grip from under your arms to pick you up bridal style.

“Just lie down for a second...”

And you’re too out of it to notice he’s passed his bedroom door.

***

It’s difficult to open your eyes again, your lashes stuck together as you turn your head over. When vision slowly comes back to you, you’re met with a midcentury wooden bedside table you don’t recognise. You prop yourself up on your forearm and squint into the room, looking for any signs of familiarity, and the only thing you recognise is the thing you dread.

“What…” you begin to mutter, and Bucky looks up from the book he’s reading with a smile.

“You’re up.” He stands from the chair positioned by ‘your’ (this isn’t your bed) beside and moves to sit on the edge, placing a hand to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You weakly slap his hand away as you start to really wake up and realise what’s going on.

“I’m not… this isn’t… what…” you can’t really find the words to ask the questions you need answers to.

“It’s your Christmas present!” he says with a grin, standing to make a grand gesture with his arms, out to the room. I’ve got your favourite books here, I remember you telling me you used to want a four poster princess bed.” He points to the ceiling and sure enough, pretty curtains hang over your head. “But if you don’t like it I can change it.” He shrugs and stands somewhat nervously as he waits for you to react.

“What… the fuck.”

He tsks and swings his arms back and forth, rocking on his heels.

“I set it up for you a few weeks ago, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable sleeping with me every night, I know you like your space.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” You throw the sheets off of you and manage to stand, even though your head feels a little heavy.

He sighs and steps forward. “I know it feels like–”

“Oh, you know what it feels like? You know what it feels like to be ostensibly kidnapped by your boyfriend?”

He blushes. “So I am your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You throw a pillow at him (ineffective but it was the nearest thing) which he catches with ease and turns over to reveal an embroidered flower. “I made this,” he says, proudly.

“What the fuck!?” you shriek as you throw another pillow at him, this one he dodges easily.

You’ve never seen him like this, nearly giddy and, in this context, borderline delusional. It makes you grip onto your hair and bunch your fingers into the locks. “Oh, my god, you’re insane!”

“I’m not the one yelling and throwing things,” he mutters, and your eyes snap up to his.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you begin, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t react well to crimes committed against me.”

“You came into my house.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come into this room! Do you really expect me to believe I can just leave anytime? That that door isn’t locked. You think I’m fucking stupid?”

He gently tosses the pillow back onto the bed and winces. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Bucky,” you begin, carefully, voice dangerously low as you step up to him. “I don’t know what in god’s name has gotten into you, but I’m not having it. I’m leaving.”

“Sweetheart, you really don’t intimidate me.” And the way he says it with such sincere pity makes you shove at his chest. He doesn’t stumble, but he takes a step back for your benefit.

You match his step and poke your finger in his chest, glaring up at him with more fury than you thought you had and trying your hardest not to wrap your hand around his throat. What really pisses you off is his patronising speech; you can tell he genuinely thinks he’s doing good, and that he honestly feels bad that you can’t appreciate it, that you’re weaker than him, and it boils your blood. Apathy or even mockery would be better than this condescending way he’s deluded himself into believing this is for your benefit.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you piece of shit. If that door is locked, you’re gonna unlock it, and you’re going to leave me the fuck alone.” You practically spit the words at him through gritted teeth, seething to the point you can feel heat radiating from your body and wouldn’t be surprised if there was literal steam coming out of your ears.

“Sit down, angel.”

“Talk to me like that again and there will be nothing angelic about what I do to you.”

“Your mother called.”

That gets your attention and your anger dissipates for a moment. “Really? What did she say?”

When he guides you to sit down, you’re not really in the space to fight him off, waiting to hear any news from your family.

“They’re coming down in a few days, for New Year’s, and, they’re bringing your sister–they say she’s stable enough for travel.”

You feel your eyes begin to water at the thought of your sister being that strong, of being able to talk to her like you used to, before she got sick. But you snap out of it, and that swelling in your heart turns to something close to anxiety, but closer to suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”

He scoffs as if you’re asking him if the sky is blue. “Because I know you want to see them. I told them they could stay with us for a few days.”

“With us?”

He just blinks. “Yes, with us.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think…” And the next few hours are spent with you screaming in his face, swinging punches which he easily dodges, but sometimes he humours you and allows you a hit–not like it hurts anyway. His calm demeanour and ‘care’ makes you infuriated beyond belief, and by the end of the night the room has been trashed, there are scratches on the door from your desperate clawing and pounding, your voice is hoarse from all the yelling, and you’re exhausted while Bucky is no more beaten than when you first woke up.

Eventually, you’ve physically exhausted yourself so much you can’t even push him away when he climbs into bed next to you and holds you in his arms, placing your head against his chest and caressing your hair, which he knows always relaxes you and helps you fall asleep.

***

You only know it’s morning when you wake up because Bucky greets you with it, but it doesn’t take long for your attention to fall to the walls, noticing there aren’t any windows.

“We’re in the basement, you know.” Bucky comments, watching your eyes dart around the room and catching on to what you’re doing. “I don’t have a spare room, you know that.”

You’re nearly tired of glaring daggers at him seeing as he doesn’t really feel it–if anything, it seems to spur him on, like he doesn’t really care what you do as long as he gets some kind of reaction out of you. If you remained as stoic as he did, maybe that would give him pause for thought, but you really can’t resist the urge to attack him, and he somehow sees it as endearing, like any attention you give him makes his heart swell.

Initially, you refuse his invitation for breakfast upstairs, but when that morning grumpiness subsides, you let your stubbornness fall away in favour of opportunity. This really solidifies in your mind Bucky is so convinced you’ll stay that he doesn’t really worry about turning his back on you as he flips an egg.

“Where’re you going?”

You stop dead in your tracks, shocked he had heard you get up when you were practically sneaking like a cartoonish villain.

“To the bathroom,” you lie, to which he responds with a simple, “Okay.”

It’s too easy, but you’d rather take your chances than wonder if this is some kind of setup. You have to get out of here as soon as possible, so you don’t have time to look for your car keys, but you hesitate at the door. It’s beginning to snow, and you’re not dressed anywhere near enough to make it to a neighbour–the only thing that had kept you warm before coming up to see him was that nice coat, but it’s not on the rack anymore.

There’re only a few locks you have to turn to quietly open the door, your teeth chattering as a cold breeze hits you so hard it’s painful, like your skin is literally freezing onto your bones. You’re barefoot, no less. You can’t kid yourself into thinking you won’t lose a toe or some extremities in the process, but you can not stay. It really has only been one night, but something you’ve never liked in your life is being trapped, makes your skin crawl to the point you’d rather shed it than be deprived of freedom, especially when you’ve got the chance to see your family soon. And besides, it’s really not that long of a walk to the next house, you won’t die out there, but you can only vaguely make it out through the snow, and if you scream, it’ll surely be drowned by the harsh winds. With one last glance behind you, you step into the snow, and instantly regret it, your feet set close to frozen in just a few seconds, and goosebumps rising so quickly across your skin it feels like you’ve suddenly broken out in hives. And just as you consider turning back, you’re shoved forward, and you shriek as you land face first in the snow, afraid of crying at the impact lest your tears turn to ice right on your cheeks.

You’re gripped by the arm and pulled upright, before being again pushed further away from the house you can feel radiating warmth just through the open door. You gasp for air as you manage to bring yourself to your hands and knees, fingers curling into the snow and slowly becoming numb. A harsh gust blows, nearly knocking you off balance, and you squint to look up at the door, Bucky standing before you in little more than a long-sleeved t-shirt (he’s more underdressed than you) and sweatpants, hair still a little messy with sleep, but the look in his eyes, it’s a look you’ve never been on the receiving end of–in fact, you’ve never even seen it, but you can recognise it immediately.

“You forget I’m the Winter Soldier.” You’re not sure how his deep growl manages to carry across the howling of the winds, but you don’t have time to figure it out before a metal hand grips a fistful of your hair and you’re dragged through the snow, instinctively trying to plant your feet in the ground to stop him but even if you could match his strength, the cold is unbearable, and your legs are starting to feel numb, yet still stiff.

You don’t have time to be grateful that you’ve been thrown back into warmth as you slide across the floor and Bucky kicks the door shut behind him. From a hallway table, he pulls out a wrench, and you struggle to get your arms and legs to move away from him as he approaches you, menacingly.

You don’t know how such slow and heavy footsteps manage to catch up to you so quickly, but soon he’s got his boot pressing down on your ankle, preventing you from doing more than thrashing around. He leans down and grips your face roughly, forcibly pulling you up to meet him, and his eyes are so void of emotion he nearly looks dead. He doesn’t look angry, he looks like he just can’t feel.

“I do all this for you, and you can’t even offer me a pretty little smile.” His large fingers reach into your mouth, pulling your lips and teeth apart wide, wide enough for him to shove the wrench into your mouth and attach it to one of your teeth. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Maybe you’ll appreciate it more if it just wasn’t the same.” You feel your gum twist and let out a cry, gurgling through your throat. Your frail fingers grasp onto his wrist as you desperately try to shake your head, but his strong hold prevents you from it. He twists a little more and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath, before he eventually pulls out and you gasp for dear life, tears stinging your vision.

He roughly tugs you up and practically throws you into a nearby chair, before taking your hand with surprising gentleness, caressing your hurting fingers with the back of his for a moment before adjusting his grip to bring the wrench back forward.

“Now this is no good…” he remarks, moving his head to see more of your frostbitten marks you’re sure will leave scars. “You know what happens to these?” The wrench attacks itself to your index finger and Bucky adjusts its width so it’s threatening to chop your finger right off.

You scream at him to let go, kicking at his legs gets no reaction out of him, but don’t dare to move the hand he’s still holding.

“What if I just…” He twists only slightly and your skin breaks, blood seeping down from your frayed skin and dripping onto your thigh.

Just as you’re about to let out an unstoppable shriek of pain, Bucky’s metal hand presses to your mouth, stopping the sound going any further than echoing off his palm for only you to hear again. He twists more and you move your wrist with it, trying anything to stop him from twisting your finger off. He notices this and removes his other hand from your mouth to hold your wrist firmly in place.

“Bucky, please–”

“Shut up!” he shouts, his hold on you tightening even further. He lowers his face to yours with wide eyes, jaw clenched impossibly tight, and speaks in a dangerously low register, his voice trembling with fury as he tries to hold it together, at least in demeanour if not in action. “You really fucked up, and if you don’t have any fingers, you won’t be able to open my door ever again.”

✪

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove]

[applestorms]

trying to break down beyond more so here's some random thoughts:

he's very particular about the ways in which he's unhinged/insane, and oddly conscious about every weird thing he does. everything is meant to one-up L: excess sugar (jam + coffee sludge), uncomfortable body movements, presenting as a Genius Detective to hide his own crimes, etc. his weirdness is unnatural and, at least in the ways he specifically tries to replicate L, not innate to him specifically. there's a version of beyond, perhaps pre-L, who is weird in his own unique way.

for a serial killer, he has very little interest in the killings themselves. despite executing all these violent murders, even one of a 13 year old girl, every one of his victims is killed only after they're drugged to unconscious and the mutilation of their bodies is all post-death, for the sake of his puzzles alone. seemingly the only reason why he bothers with murder is because that is what L focuses on, and because his eyes make him so intimate w/ death.

his motives are clearly focused around L, perhaps both as a reaction to L and as an attempt at initiating some kind of interaction? iirc mello claims near the end of the story that his sole purpose is to give L some kind of unsolvable case, but clearly some of his behaviors must be done to antagonize L specifically, since almost nobody else (other than the meta audience) knows who he's presenting himself as/clowning on.

ultimately, it's his ego that gets him. he underestimates naomi's abilities often throughout the story, feeding her clues to ensure that his own puzzles get solved-- perhaps out of a lack of respect for her intelligence, but also to present himself as even more capable? to brag as much as he can?

the congenital shinigami eyes is honestly one of the most fascinating ideas any death note side story has ever presented. there are so so so many questions you can ask here-- is beyond genetically part shinigami? is he or his birth family somehow connected to a death note? how can he read the lifespans? mello describes beyond's shinigami eyes as follows:

Killing people was, for him, normal. Killing people who were fated to die anyway was no effort at all. Mmm, I guess I should explain the idea of the eyes of a shinigami. The phrase is only too familiar to me, but if I don't explain it, some of you will cry foul. The eyes of a shinigami. These eyes could be given out by any shinigami in return for half the recipient's remaining life. Normally contact with a shinigami was a prerequisite for acquisition, but Beyond Birthday had traded nothing--he had seen the world through those eyes since before he could remember. He knew your name before you said it. He knew the time of death of every person he met. ...I hardly need to explain just what effect this would have one his personality. You might think they would hardly be useful without a Death Note, but that is simply not the case. The ability to see someone's remaining life is the ability to see death. Death, death, death. Beyond Birthday lived his life unceasingly reminded that all humans would eventually die. From the time he was born he knew the day his father would be attacked by a thug and die, knew the day his mother would die in a train crash. He had these eyes before he was born, which is why he called himself Beyond Birthday. Which is why a child as strange as him was taking in by our home, sweet home--Wammy's House. (pg. 94-95)

it's unclear exactly how much of this story mello heard from L and how much is him interpreting/theorizing w/ his own ideas. the potentially biased narration is a fantastic layer in this story.

he is the second known wammy's kid to overtly attempt suicide, though his attempt is of course incomplete. we have no idea about the circumstances surrounding A's suicide, though i find it notable that A is mentioned at all as their presence makes this a pattern. this also seems important in conjunction w/ mello's infamous opening line: "I am your narrator, your navigator, your storyteller. For anyone else but [Near and Kira], my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago. Good memories and nightmares." (pg. 12)

sidenote: love his use of "the old world," in that quote, i wonder what the original japanese is... fits well w/ the whole idea of L as the god of the old world. anyway,

his relationship with naomi is also Fascinating to me, particularly since it really doesn't seem like either of them have a speck of respect for the other. lmfao. i should really fic write for those two sometime... i really just need to do a proper character study on both of those bitches. lol.

edit: almost immediately upon posting this i open back the damn book back up to this quote:

If he attacked her with intent to kill, he would absolutely fail. He knew that he would. Ensuring his path of escape was far more critical. Naomi Misora was nothing more than L's servant, and if she died there would be dozens of replacements-- from the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA-- even Secret Service. So he had only been testing her. Seeing if Naomi Misora was capable of being L's substitute. "Hmmm...mmmm...hmmm...Huh huh huh huh...no, hee hee hee? I could go with ho ho ho ho, but that's a little too jolly...anyway. Oh, Naomi Misora-- you are pretty good. A shame to waste someone like you in the FBI." She had passed the test, so far. (pg. 95-96)

so. shit, idk. i guess he does still have some respect for her, albeit tempered by that classic death note sexism. shrug.

the beyond vs. KIRA comparison has a lot to consider, particularly when it comes to their egos and how they choose to cover up their crimes. L's reaction to either of them is also intriguing-- as much as i like to point out L's lack of respect for beyond he does admittedly take on the case even when it doesn't quite fit his usual standards (10+ deaths and/or 1 million dollars). he's at least somewhat aware of what his legacy is setting up, though how much he actually gives a shit about any of those kids is somewhat debatable...

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

@fishuwu

You brought this on yourself:

“All Might!” Izumi shouted, trying to get to him. The baton he’d handed her was sparking with the electricity running through it and she casually jabbed Magne in the side when the woman aimed her magnet at her, ducking under the swing.

When Izumi reached the hero’s side she hissed seeing the bloody mess that was his torso. All Might looked at her, something in his eyes before he grabbed her free hand swiped something in her palm, the wetness of it confusing Izumi as he closed her hand around it. “Run, and keep this safe.” he ordered. Izumi didn’t hesitate, bolting as soon as the man shoved her. Her clenched hand she kept tucked to her chest as she whirled around with her baton, making a swipe at Toga who danced backwards with a glare. Best Jeanist shot his threads out at her and Izumi lunged into them, dragged away quickly by the hero.

“Once upon a time,” All Might said in a booming voice. “There were two brothers at the start of the age of Quirks. The younger was sickly and Quirkless. The older though had another Quirk. The ability to take and give Quirks.

“Why are you telling my story All Might?” the man, the villain, fighting All Might asked. “I know it already.” Izumi landed beside Best Jeanst, baton still ready for battle. Her hand she kept close to her.

“You injured?” Jeanist asked her.

“Scrapes and bruises. They wanted to recruit me, said I was brainwashed.” Izumi told him. Yeah sure. She was brainwashed by nineteen years of hate towards her, clawing her way into heroics only to be forced to leave her home as her mother refused to believe she deserved it. Screaming she stole it from someone worthy.

She got lucky Hawks liked her. That Hawks cared about her.

“The elder man began out as a helpful figure, but soon his true intentions were revealed. He wanted power, and more of it.” All Might said. He punched at the villain who waved away the blast. Steam was pouring off All Might. “His brother wished to stop him. In an attempt…”

“To convince his brother, the man forced a Quirk upon him I know, I was the one who did it.” the villain said boredly. “And of course the rest of the story is that my brother had a Quirk all along, the ability to pass on his own Quirk which could also absorb other Quirks. When I gave him a stockpiling Quirk, they bonded. What is your point?” the man shot more of his tentacles out, and All Might punched them away.

“That Quirk continued through the years!” All Might yelled. “It continued down for generations, going through until me!” another punch and the steam seemed to overwhelm him before it vanished. Izumi’s mouth dropped open.

“Yagi-sensei!?” She gasped. Best Jeanist’s own shock felt like a physical thing, the hero stiff as he stared at the fight.

Izumi stared at the man who she knew for the teo years. Her old neighbour who had provided her a safe place when she needed it. Who helped her get her things and escape. The man who taught classes along with his boss All Might at UA. The man who shot her brilliant smiles and who cheered her on as a fuck you to society.

“When we had our last battle, I was injured badly enough I knew my hero career would be over!” Yagi said loudly. “I began looking for someone to pass my Quirk to. I eventually met a young woman so much like myself.” He laughed. “A Quirkless woman who wanted to be a hero to save people. She inspired me! Convinced me that perhaps I should appear as the Quirkless Tagi Toshinori rather then the all powerful All Might to judge my successor!”

“But you didn’t pass it on,” the villain said. “I can tell, you still have One for All.” he wasn’t attacking, obviously as surprised as Izumi and the rest of those watching at the scene.

“I got a job at UA and went through candidates. My former sidekick offered one up and I eventually dismissed him for a comment about the Quirkless woman who got into heroics!” All Might continued. “She proved herself, over and over again even when everyone doubted her!” Suddenly it clicked and Izumi opened her hand. A smear of red blood was on it, wet and almost shining.

“Yet you didn’t offer her it?” The villain said. All Might scoffed.

“She wished to be a Quirkless hero, and I knew she could do it. I knew it when she got into UA, when she beat two strongly Quirked students in her first combat practise, when she fought through the sports festival, when she faced Stain. She would be the perfect successor, a symbol of Hope and Change! But I would not offer her a piece of hair, would not give her my DNA unless she wished it.” All Might laughed. “No other would I ever wish to succeed me, and if she wished it now I would never force her to take it.”

Izumi stared at her hand, at the streak of blood. She slowly lifted her head. Shigaraki had turned and looked at her. Their eyes locked, and Izumi almost swore that a year passed. They stared at one another, neither moving.

It was a choice.

She lifted her hand and covered her mouth, licking up the streak of blood as Shigaraki yelled out, “SENSEI!”

The villain whirled to face Izumi. The heavy not-gaze he held over her made her want to run. Instead she pushed her shoulders back and stared back. Readied her baton, as her feet widened and her teeth became bared.

“It takes two hours girl, for the Quirk to activate!” the man shouted at her. Yagi… Toshinori seemed to be bulking up behind the man. “Plenty of time-”

One last punch came. The villain flew forward, slamming onto the ground as Shigaraki screamed for his sensei. The other villains grabbed him and began dragging him, trying to follow the command from earlier. A portal appeared and they vanished.

The big villain didn’t move. Toshinori dropped.

Izumi ran. She bolted from Jeanist, running towards All Might, towards Toshinori. She ran faster then she ever had, stepping over the villain and going right to the skeleton form of her friend. “Toshinori!” pulled from her lips as she dropped to her knees beside his head. “I have bandages-”

“No,” coughed the hero. He looked at her with his dark eyes. “It’s okay Izumi.”

“No it’s not I can… can I give it back?!” Izumi begged. He shook his head, looking at her with a softness he showed only for her.

“No.” he smiled at her, blood on his teeth. “You can’t and that’s okay young Izumi. You don’t even have to keep it if you don’t wish. Give it to another hero if you want, keep on your path.”

“No, you gave it to me.” Izumi told him, sniffiling. “It’s mine now.” the words echoed, drawing the memory of her holding the terribly made stuffed animal. She reached out to pull his head into her lap. “No one should die alone.” she said sofly.

“I’m not. You’re here, my daughter… my daughter is here.” Toshinori said, eyes holding her face. The lights were dimming. God, Izumi wanted to laugh and cry. The entire scene was dramatic, something out of a movie.

It was fitting. Fitting for All Might, for the larger then life hero who saved everyone with a smile. Fitting for Yagi Toshinori who could quote any superhero movie from the pre-Quirk age. Fitting for her dad.

“I love you dad.” she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“I love you to…” he breathed out and then he was done. Izumi’s tears spilled down her cheeks, her sobs echoing. She lifted her head to scream her grief, the tears falling around her. She cried and cried, unaware of how much time had passed until she stopped.

The villain was being handcuffed when she finished. The heroes were giving her room. However a reporter’s drone was in the air, watching. Izumi bared her teeth. She removed her father’s head from her lap gently before standing. She pointed her fan at the drone.

“I know this is probably live. I’ve been a fan fo heroes since I was born and I know this is going to end up beings made into memes, gifs and reactions. I know you’ll see this Shigaraki Tomura.” she snarled out. “I said before I’ve been fighting a War since I was a child. And I still am, it’s just now my opponent is you.” she grinned, fierce and dangerous. “Getting a Quirk didn’t level the playingfield, I’ve always been as equal as you. I’ve always been fighting on even footing. It just gave me a boost. It gave me a new advantage.” she stared down the camera, shaking in her shoes. What was she doing? Why was she doing this? “I’m the Warrior. And you just declared war on me, war on society. So I’ll meet you head one. But I’m not alone.” Izumi said. “Uravity, Ingenium, Psyren, Froppy, Anima, all of my class is with me. All of 1B is with me. Eraserhead, Present Mic, Nezu, Midnight, Snipe- all of UA is with me.” she bared her teeth again. “Best Jeanist, Hawkes, Endeavour, Wash, Miruko, they’re all with me! So are the reporters, so are the support engineers! You want a war on society? You think we’ll all fall to you? Watch us fight back! Because this isn’t a 1v1 battle! It’s not multiplayer! I won’t let another person die for this War! So watch your back boy!”

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Lu Guang is about to enter the stage. It's not the first night of the representation, he knows his lines perfectly. As a comedian, he has some liberty, he can improve, he can give his own interpretation of the character through emotions and gesture, but ultimately he has to stick to the plot. I also think the curtain has strong connotations. First, he knows what's on both sides. What the audience sees, must see, the fact the show must go on whatever happens behind the scenes. Second, here, the curtain has the 4th wall role, when the boundaries between reality and fiction/fantasy blur. The curtain's motif is a starry sky, and we all know by now that stars are often seen on merch. I personally believe it also gives Lu Guang a godly role, as the "man in the sky" or "who can rip the fabric of the universe." He has great powers, great responsibilities as well, and the fact he's the only one who the countdown posters hint on his powers (the blue eye hidden in the darkness of the curtains), underlines that idea. I'll always refer to Odin whenever Lu Guang's eyes shine in official artworks, so I don't want to be redundant but there it is:

Behind him, behind the scenes, a real starry sky exists. Does it mean a fake universe is only hiding a real, more complex, one? Does it mean that Lu Guang is playing a fictional character in an ersatz of what was/is, but the reality of tragic and traumatic events still weight on him? Truth be told, Lu Guang thinks he has control over this world, because it exists in a bubble, in a timeloop. In actuality, Lu Guang is playing a game he doesn't know the rules of, but soon enough, the pros are going to show him how it's done. He's in kindergarten, guys.

Is Cheng Xiaoshi banned from the theater or is he the main character of the play? His poster is one we could regard as the play's poster, it involves mystery to be uncovered, and the only way he can do it is through a photograph. There is the banner, telling us it's forbidden to go there. The manor is behind him. It reminds me of SKYFALL in James Bond haha. Going back to the origins. He's truly going through the Fool's journey towards his end.

I'm just going to put this here, no further comment needed:

I also think it's interesting that Cheng Xiaoshi and Liu Xiao are fully facing us.

Qiao Ling seems to be aware to be both a character and a performer. She is in transition, in contemplation. She has an award for her performance but she seems to be troubled. It's only natural that my mind goes to the portrait of Dorian Gray looking at this artwork. “The portrait” becomes an autonomous, independent entity through mirrors, in which Dorian meets his distorted self: all that is irrational, instinctive and hidden in his own psyche. Through Oscar Wilde's masterpiece, we witness the interplay between self-perception, the fear of aging, and the pursuit of eternal youth. Even though the obvious parallel would be with Narcissus, I do think it echoes Qiao Ling's flower, hyacinth, in the young and fragile existence except in her case, you can add mourning into the mix. The theme also relates to obsession. Qiao Ling is known to put things under the rug, not facing the issues of her shortcomings, but she obviously wants to change that. The "connecting dots" imagery we saw in the PV released lately shows she's on a journey herself.

I still think Xia Fei's role this season is to be only a tool, a face and body to be borrowed, a playable character. He is the star of the show, and his position looks a bit like the Mona Lisa. Meaning, he is and is supposed to be beautiful, perfect, iconic. He is mysterious because we know nothing of him and can only theorize. He personifies whatever we want. That's who he is as well: a mirror to our desires, subjects to interpretation. That is what struck me at first sight, though. Mona Lisa. We also see his shadow and I think it is an important clue. Presenting as a white piece, a pawn, could it be that his dark side is the most overlooked warning of death?

As I mentioned before, Liu Xiao is there to meet his favorite performer, Lu Guang. There is a hint of parasocial relationship there; delusion and obsession. In 2024, being part of the audience is powerful. A spectator has a voice and the mass community, a fandom for example, can influence production and representation. It is an external force and you better want it in your corner. He also could be a producer. Either way, the goal is to impress, please him, and you are probably nothing without him. He has all the access behind the scenes, he can try and recruit, he's here for his own profit and he has the power to destroy careers. Through him, though, it is easier to reach a goal.

Vein, I have little to say. He's shown as wealthy and I think that's a way to tell us he is powerful and takes his power and influence for granted. People like this, they don't like when their authority is challenged. Maybe there is some chinese culture at play that I don't know about. We often forget Link Click is a chinese media but social and cultural context bleed into the story more often than not so I'll be happy to know a chinese myth is hidden in plain sight there.

Lu Guang about to pass through the curtains [and step onto the stage].

Cheng Xiaoshi is outside with his camera, banned from entering the theatre.

Qiao Ling looking into the vanity mirror but not getting ready in any way

Xia Fei looking like a big star with his team of assistants helping him prepare

Liu Xiao sitting at the front and carrying a bouquet [for his favorite performer]

Finally, Vein, in his own private VIP booth or something

[loveydovey489]

Gang. Yea. It’s Christmas. BUT THE GRIND DONT STOP!!

So. Ofc! I was playing MW1 (best modern warfare game.)

And Alex Keller… *dreamy sigh* what a man!

You can tell he respects women. Like, we KNOW the 141 respect women, but they do things, even subconsciously (like assuming el Sen nombre was a man.) don’t get me wrong! They’re so respectful and they treat laswell and Farah as a complete equals and they respect the two, talk to them like they’d talk to men. (Price is softer with Farah. But I think he just has a soft spot for her. And he’s a gentleman.)

But Alex, IMMEDIATELY thinking Farah was the commander, (pretty sure untill they had the gender of commander Karim. He refers to her as ‘they’ rather than ‘he’) not a word, not a flicker of surprise. Because he knows women can kick ass!

And the way he looks at her? Pure love, admiration. For her person, the first complement he gives her is “you’re got catlike reflexes.” He compliments her skills. Not her looks!! (But the way his eyes NEVER leave her face, he’s obviously so inlove)

Hes such a feminist. He reads feminist literature, to understand how women are affected. Doesn’t brag. Just reads them lmao, (he only reads that. Because he actually doesn’t care for reading) I also think he’d get rlly upset when woman has period cramps. Like he’d deadass say

“I wish I could take that pain away, and take it myself🙁”

But it’s sweet when he dose it, because he means it,

side note. He’s definitely done those period cramps simulations thingys and like. Was quiet and said some shit like

“I didn’t know how hard it was for you..” (said to Farah.)

(corny ahh. Farah called him out on it, but he was being sweet <33)

Also I didn’t see him under my tree this Christmas? Disappointed. 😞

[isavulpix]

Christmas at The Harper's

Reader x Roy Harper, Lian Harper

I havent write a fanfic in so long that I'm super nervous about this. It was supposed to be a Jason Toddx reader, but then Roy happened. I hope yall enjoy it and Happy Christmas!

Warning: I havent read a dc comic, so Roy may be OOC. All my knowledge on him comes from other fanfics and google. My first language isn't english so there will be errors.

It was a weird and peaceful day in Gotham. The snow had fallen the night before, so you could hear the laughs and joyful screams of the older kids playing outside. It was a week before Christmas and Lian was in her Bluey PJs on the couch eating the remains of the gingerbread house she had made the day before with her father. The local Gotham channel was doing a Christmas movie marathon, right now The Grinch was. Her father had left early in the morning, so it was just you two in the apartment.

Lian groaned when a commercial break popped, but before she could change for Netflix, the commercial got her attention. It was about a family giving each other gifts and it confused her. Wasn’t that Santa’s job? She stood from the couch and quickly put on her bunny sleepers to run toward her father's room knowing you were there organizing the drawer you shared with Roy. You always got annoyed with her dad for not folding the clothes.

“Why did those people give gifts to each other? Does Santa not visit them?” Lian looks up at you, her eyes wondering about the commercial. You stopped what you were doing and panicked internally, how did you explain to Lian without accidentally ruining it? Damn, Roy for not being here because of late toy shopping. You turned to Lian and cursed when you saw the look on her face, for a 5-year-old she was very persistent.

“Well…um…Santa does visit them; it is just that they love each other so much that they decide to also give a gift to each other. Like we do in birthdays…” You hoped that the last-minute explanation was enough for her curiosity because you certainly didn’t have anything else. Lian looks at you and blinks three times before nodding, you let out a breath and relax.

“Did you get something for Daddy?” Lian balanced her weight from side to side.

“Well yeah?” You hope she doesn’t catch the uncertainty in your tone, was your explanation a good one? You hope Roy doesn’t get mad, but you're shaken from your thoughts when you see Lian eyes getting watery. Shit, you totally fuck up.

“Wait wait” You squat to her level; you were certain that you ruined something because of your explanation. “Why are you crying, sweetie?” You run the conversation in your head to see if you accidentally said something stupid or insinuated that Santa wasn’t real, really wishing it wasn’t the last one. You didn’t want to be responsible for dying the magic of Santa for her.

“I haven’t bought a gift for Daddy” You can barely understand what she says because of her crying and you mentally high-five yourself, Santa is still alive. Now you need to fix the new problem.

“Oh, that’s fine sweetie. We can give Daddy what I got him.” Your fingers clean her running tears, you pout a little as she keeps crying.

“No, you said they gifted each other because they love each other so I need to give Daddy something” Lian lips wobble as she rubs her eyes.

“You don’t have to per se....and I promise Daddy won't be mad about it, but if you still want to gift Daddy something what about those cards you make? He is always so happy when you give him one” Your reassurance helps, and Lian stops crying and plays with her fingers. You could eat her chubby cheeks with how adorable she is.

“Daddy really likes them?” Your heart almost bursts at how cute she looks.

“Your daddy loves them, especially when is a drawing of you two.” You smile at her and Lian smiles back. Damn, you're good at this. “We can even buy some of your Daddy's favorite chocolate to accompany your card.” Lian nods and runs to her room determined to make the best Christmas card ever made, and you punch the air. A crisis is avoided like a pro, you deserve some hot chocolate.

As the days passed the air got colder and the streets that didn’t have that much snow were now completely covered with the white fluffiness. You had spent the week of Christmas in Roy and Lian apartment. Both of them insist every night for you to stay the night. You turned in your sleep, your unconscious body seeking the nearest heat supply. It was Roy's body that was much hotter than yours, he was on the other side of the bed sleeping when your cold feet and hands woke him up.

He mumbles incoherent words as he tries to move away from the cold, his movement wakes you up making you pout. How dare he move away from you? So, when his back faces you, you interlock your legs with him and move a hand to his torso making him grumble.

“How are you so damn cold? The heater is on” He turns to face you knowing you weren’t going to let him be.

“The heater isn't enough; I need your body heat” Roy chuckles and kisses your forehead. He could feel you move your cold limbs in his clothes, but he doesn’t dare move. Roy moves you to be even closer to him and rubs your back. He closes his eyes and thinks about how grateful he is for having you in his life, he didn’t know what would have been of Lian and him if you weren’t in the picture. He always thought and said you were too good for him. He prayed that he could make you even happier than what you made him be and give you everything you deserved.

“You know, it's weird that Lian hasn’t come in to wake us up to go open gifts” You mumble against Roy's chest, loving how affectioned he was being this morning. Sadly, your words make Roy remember the last Christmas fiasco. Lian had silently opened most of her gifts and he missed taking pictures of it. Roy quickly untangles from you, skips to the living room, and sighs when the gifts are untouched under the tree.

You follow him at a slower pace and look at him confused, but even weirder is the toddler sitting on the couch waiting patiently while watching Frozen. Aren't kids supposed to be hyper at Christmas? “Good morning, Lian” I hug her, and kiss her forehead, and she smiles repeating my words with more excitement for her dad and you.

“Did you peek at what Santa got you?” Roy had an eyebrow raised; he couldn’t believe his kid waited for them to wake up, not when she knew that more than half of the presents were for her.

“I didn’t, Daddy!” Lian smiles at her father, which makes him more suspicious. Before he can ask more, she runs to the tree and returns with a small gift bag. “I got you a gift, Daddy!” You get your phone and start recording the moment between father and daughter.

Roy Harper's heart almost failed at that moment. Lian excitement wasn’t all about the presents Santa got her. Half of her excitement was to finally give him the gift she had made days ago. “You did?” He takes the gift, but first pepper kisses Lian face.

“Daddy! Stop” Lian giggles and tries to escape the kisses attack. “And I did!” Lian smiles even more. “(Y/N) said that besides Santa, you can also give gifts to the people you love. She also got you something but open mine first!”

Roy smiles and pulls Lian onto his lap and pats the space beside him. You take the sign and sit down making sure to capture both of them. Inside the bag, there was Roy's favorite candy like you promised to Lian, plus the card. The card was made with white paper, one side there was a drawing of three stick people that resembled you three. The stick people were around a big three and Santa was stuck in the chimney, this made Roy and you laugh. When he looked at the other side of the card, a tear almost escaped. With big chunky writing, it said “Appy Crismas to the dest daddy!” and a lot of hearts.

Roy pulled Lian again into a tight hug. “This is the best gift I have ever gotten, pipsqueak. Thank you so much.” He kisses the side of her forehead, and Lian, satisfied with her work being done runs to open her gifts. Roy takes the moment to pull you into his arms.

“Happy Christmas, Roy” You hug him as you two watch Lian open her gifts and act surprised.

“Happy Christmas, (Y/N) …and thanks.” He mumbles the last part as he hugs you tighter, only catching it because of the closeness.  

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

okay...here goes...

(I wish you would write) a modern short au about Violet as a celebrity or princess or something, and Xaden as her bodyguard🤭🤭🫶

Okay I'm cheating a little on this one because I have something like this in my drafts already!! This was actually one of @skyfallscotland's prompt fics in which Lilith was the US President, and after a failed assassination attempt on the campaign trail, she assigns Xaden to be Violet's body guard. For reasons I hope are obvious, I don't want to finish it anymore. However, the first chapter was done in it's entirety by the time I scrapped it, so you can have 2.3k ish words of body guard Xaden!! (below the cut)

When Violet gets a knock on her door, she is not expecting it to have anything to do with her mother. The entire reason she’d gone to college in California was so that anything having to do with her mother would be a country away. And for the most part, it had worked. Her freshman and sophomore years had gone off without a hitch. In her classes that aren’t 99% poli sci majors, she doesn’t even get recognized, and she couldn’t be happier. 

She abandons her spot on the couch, and sets her planner to the side as she stands to answer the door. She doesn’t bother checking the peep hole, because she assumes it’s doordash for Ridoc, or last minute school supplies for Sawyer, or Rhiannon staying very ahead of her Christmas shopping. 

What she sees instead is a man. He’s tall, with dark, wavy hair, and dark skin. His arms—very broad, ridiculously so, some might say—are crossed over his chest— which is also notably broad. He’s squinting at her like he’s scrutinizing something, which is uncalled for, in Violet’s opinion. Maybe she isn’t dressed to impress just yet, but the only thing she’d been planning on impressing was her planner, and it didn’t have eyes, so her combo of old sweatpants she’d cut into shorts and a gigantic tie-dye t-shirt with her school’s name on it had been perfectly appropriate. 

“You just open the door all the way, without knowing who’s outside?” the man demands. He stares at her as does it, unflinching and unyielding. 

Violet, naturally, does both flinch and yield, because she’s entirely confused. She takes a step back, to get a better look at the man, to try and see where on earth he gets his audacity, but she comes up empty. 

“Do I know you?” she retorts, indignant. 

He matches her indignation, card for card. “Do you not have a chain on your door?” 

“Of course I don’t have a chain on my door. This isn’t New York.”

“Do you think crime only happens in New York?” The man demands. “Do you think that none of your mother’s enemies can run a google search and find out where you are?” 

He shouldn’t have brought up her mother. He’d been so hot before he opened his mouth, but even still, he could have saved the whole thing and escaped with his hotness intact if he’d avoided bringing up her mother. 

“Okay,” Violet says, “This was fun. You can go now.” 

She moves to slam the front door shut, but he shoves out an arm, blocking her. 

“See?” he says. “This is why you need a door chain. You can’t keep me out. You’re not strong enough, but metal is.” 

She stares at him for a second, blinks, then decides. 

“Okay. You can leave, and also, fuck you. Who the hell do you think you are?”

He’s still holding her door open, so she cannot make him leave, unless she resorts to something petty like kicking his shins. His arm, outstretched to support the door, looks…enticing. She’ll give him that. He has an enticing arm. Assholes are, technically, allowed to have enticing arms. 

“You know who I am,” he replies. His tone betrays no humor, which is ridiculous, because there’s no way he’s serious. 

“I don’t, actually, or I wouldn't have asked,” she snaps. “Not that I care. You have one more chance to tell me, then you’re going to need to get the fuck out, or I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs, and my two male MMA fighter roommates are going to come out here and kick your ass.” 

Ridoc and Sawyer only took one MMA class as a bonding experience, but Violet knows they’ll at the very least get this man out of the doorway. 

The man studies her with that same analytical look he’d donned when she first opened the door. He looks her up and down, then comes to his conclusion. 

“She didn’t tell you.” 

“Who,” Violet seethes, “is she?”

“Your mother, “ he says, though he’s speaking slowly, thinking as he goes, “She didn’t tell you. She didn’t call you or anything?”

“The last time my mother called me was in the year of our lord two thousand and sixteen, and that was genuinely only because she thought I had been abducted, so no. My mother didn’t call me.”

She pushes against the door with all she has, and still, he doesn’t move. He might have over one hundred pounds on her, though, given his size and his muscle mass. She will definitely have to get creative. There’s a vase on the coffee table Rhiannon won’t miss. 

“I’m your new bodyguard,” the man says. He holds the hand that isn’t holding the door out to her, anticipating a handshake. “Xaden Riorson.” 

Violet stares at him, at his hand, and at him holding out his hand. She says, “No you’re not.” 

“I’m not Xaden Riorson, or I’m not your new bodyguard?” he asks. “Because I'm pretty sure I’m both.” 

“No,” she shakes her head furiously, emphatically. “No to both. You’re neither.” 

He sighs, shoves his hand into his pocket, and emerges with a badge. It has its own little leather case, but the badge itself is shiny and gold, with an eagle at the top and a silver star in the center. 

“Happy now?” he asks, voice dry. 

He’s not just a bodyguard. He's from the secret service. 

“I’m happy that you found your way into a costume shop, but it is that time of year,” Violet says. And she’s right. With the start of August comes a proliferation of Spirit Halloweens. One on every corner, practically. 

“It’s a real badge, Sorrengail.”

She hadn’t told him her last name, and she hates that he already knows it, that he knows her mother. It doesn’t give him any legitimacy, though. He’d said it himself—she’s really only a google search away. 

But, if he’s actually Xaden Riorson, so is he. 

“Hang on,” she says, brain already speeding down this train of thought. “Stay outside, or I will actually commit a crime.” 

She steps back from the door, and he raises his non-braced hand in surrender. He leaves his badge out, and though Violet keeps her eyes on him, he doesn’t move over her line in the sand. 

She finds her phone  abandoned on the couch. She turns it on quickly, and her eyes scan notifications, but there is, of course, nothing from Lilith. Even though it shouldn’t, her heart still sinks. She should know better than to allow hope to thrive where her mother is concerned, but evidently, she doesn’t. 

She opens Safari without checking her other notifications, and types in his supposed name. Xaden Riorson. 

The results are inconclusive. No one, it seems, knows what Xaden Riorson is up to. 

“Give me your driver’s license,” she demands. 

He sighs, irritably, but then he’s digging in his pocket once more, revealing a wallet, and presenting her with his ID. He holds it over the threshold, so she plucks it from his fingers and holds it up in the light. 

It looks real, though Violet’s never been big on fake IDs, because she’s never been big on doing anything she thinks might make her mother think she isn’t perfectly capable of caring for herself. Illegal activities fall squarely on her no-no list. 

The picture matches, though Violet’s almost certain there’s a way to make that happen with fake IDs, too. She thinks she’s supposed to see a line somewhere in the middle of the ID, if it is real, but she’s also not entirely sure that isn’t actually the procedure for counterfeit money, and the longer she holds his ID up to the light without finding said line, the less sure she is of the line’s existence at all. 

Finally, she says, “Hmm.” 

“Hmm?” he presses. 

“Well, I’m starting to think you’re Xaden Riorson, but that makes the secret service thing even less believable,” Violet says. 

“Does it?” His voice is bone-dry, but Violet doesn’t mind. She’ll get to the bottom of this without his help. 

“It does, because the Xaden Riorson I knew of was a senator’s son, and the sons of senators don’t just up and join the secret service.” 

“They don’t?” he asks, still dry as ever. 

“They don’t, because joining the secret service means you’re literally willing to die for the president.” 

“And senator’s sons can’t do that?” 

Other senator’s sons could, Violet thinks, but not Fen Riorson’s son. Fen Riorson had not been just any senator. Last election, Fen Riorson had been her mother’s main opponent, and when Americans went to the polls, they had not picked him. 

He’d died six months after the election, but not before hundreds of articles were written, claiming he wanted to share classified government intelligence with the public, things the people deserved to know, but those in office were too cowardly to tell them. 

His secrets died with him. 

And Violet knows her mother is a lot of things, but she wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t make the son of her biggest political rival her daughter’s bodyguard. Her daughter doesn’t even have a bodyguard, because her daughter does not need a bodyguard. 

“You can’t,” Violet says. “You, specifically.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you, Sorrengail, I did. What’s it gonna take for you to believe me? Want to see my work email? Want to meet my team?” 

She’s trying and failing to remember how hard it is to fake an email, or a series of emails, but he keeps talking. 

“Of course, I could just call your mom.” 

Her gaze darts to his. “You could call her?” she asks, but then, her brain catches up to her tongue. “Well, there’s AI now. You could fake her voice.”

“God, okay, you can call her and you can ask her three questions only she knows. How’s that? Do we have a deal? Because believe it or not, I have a job to do.”

She does not believe it, because if she does believe it, she is that job. She cannot be his job. 

“Fine!” Violet snaps, “Fine. I’ll call her. Don’t you dare come in.” He sighs that same exasperated sigh, and still, he doesn’t move. Violet moves to her contacts—she hadn’t lied about her mother’s radio silence. She really hasn’t talked to her mother on the phone in eight years. They also don’t text. Most of her communications are through her mother’s Chief of Staff, Colonel Aetos, who still goes by his military title. 

Still, her mother is in her phone under “birth giver” which had felt incredibly edgy when she did it at thirteen, but now makes her tilt her phone closer to herself, in case Xaden sees. 

Her mother’s personal line is secure, and though she doesn’t always carry her phone on her, she’s heard from Mira—who actually makes calls to their mother, when she’s not underwater—that their mother is good at picking up the phone. 

It rings once, and Violet bites her lip. It rings twice, and Violet’s foot begins to tap a thundering beat. 

It rings three times, and her mother’s voice sounds in her ear. 

“Violet?” Lilith asks. 

“Traditionally, “ Violet says, “people answer phone calls with ‘hello’.” 

“Traditionally, you don’t call me,” Lilith retorts. “I thought someone stole your phone.” 

“Nope. I’ve never had anything stolen from me because I am exceedingly competent.” Xaden huffs at this, which Violet cannot understand. She’s making a valid point. “And because of this exceeding competency, I can’t understand why there is a man at my door claiming to be part of the secret service. Can you comprehend this, mother?”

Violet will not be calling her mom.

“Is the man Xaden Riorson, or a member of his team?” Lilith asks. Violet thinks the world is sinking beneath her. She is slipping through the cracks. “Because if that’s the case, then yes. And he’s not claiming anything. Did he not show you his badge?” 

Violet swallows. Her throat is very, very dry. “You can get those badges anywhere.” 

“No you can’t. I have a country to run and an election to win, Violet, so if that’s all you had to say, I need to go.” 

She hasn’t spoken to her mother since her last mandatory Christmas visit. She’d spent the entirety of the summer sweating in California. And still, her mother doesn’t want to talk to her. 

“I don’t need a secret service agent, Mom,” Violet snaps. She feels suddenly sixteen again, when her mother was still her mother. 

“Correct. You don’t need one, you need four.” 

“I do not need four! I have never needed four!” 

Xaden Riorson is watching her start a screaming match with her mother, and Violet knows she should be embarrassed, but she’s too angry. She doesn’t have any energy to spare. 

“Did you hear that I was shot at recently, Violet?” 

“Of course I heard! Not from you, of course, because that would be too much to ask!” 

“Then connect the dots. You’re too intelligent to question me on this. Let Mr. Riorson do his job.” 

“He’s not Mr. Anything! He’s twenty-two!” 

“He is twenty two, which will make his work with you significantly easier on you. He’s also very good at his job. You’ll be safe. I don’t care if you’re angry with me if you’re safe.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” Violet seethes. “You’re being unreasonable! I have kept myself perfectly safe-” 

She is cut off by a beep. Her mother has hung up. Violet stares at the phone in her hand for a moment, then aggressively redials her mother’s number. 

Her mother doesn’t answer. 

Xaden Riorson is still in her doorway. 

“I didn’t quite realize it was like that between you two,” he says, casually, as if he didn’t just witness a sacred portion of Violet’s life imploding in her hands. Her privacy, destroyed.