#if no one knows i will look it up and report back

[aelfgiure]

From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.

My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.

Not like mine.

There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.

My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.

Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.

So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.

I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.

The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.

That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.

I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.

My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.

Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Extra

Dinner date with Minho

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | Dinner date with Minho

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: A continuation of the free use jail cell series.

Word Count: this installment 4.3k approx.

Chapter Summary: You are free from the ot8 free use jail, Minho helps you out and then asks you over for dinner.

CW below the cut.

This is also in response to this ask here.

CW: masturbation with sex toys, video sex, spanking, vaginal penetration with an object, oral sex (m rec), vaginal sex (unprotected), restraints, stretch kink (because I'm obsessed).

After he’s finished kissing you and watching you drive away, Minho heads back into the police station. He feels giddy, like a school boy who’s just had his first kiss. It's a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time and he is both excited and fearful of it. Usually, when things start off this good, they inevitably end in disaster. But you know what he’s like when it comes to sex, and you weren’t scared off. That’s one fundamental difference from his past partners.

“Why the fuck are you smirking like that?” Says Jeongin looking up from his seat in the Chief’s office. 

Everyone is sitting around the coffee table as Chan had gathered everyone for a meeting before going home.

“Not sure what you’re talking about?” Minho grunts, taking a seat next to Jisung, and trying to act like he didn’t just have the most delicious kiss of his life.

 Chan looks at him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve been a little weird ever since you and Seungmin ‘interrogated’ her.” Hyunjin adds.

“Yeah, man. And what was that back in the gang bang?” Changbin joins in.

“The fuck you talking about?” Growls Minho.

“Gees, someone’s sensitive.” Hyunjin mumbles.

“I’m talking about how soft you were with her. You barely said a fucking word, then you fucked her so… so gently. That wasn’t in her request list.” Changbin replies.

Everyone turns to MInho and he feels the cogs in their heads turning. 

“Well, Minho is good at picking up what people need, especially without them saying anything.” Offers Felix.

“That’s right.” Reiterates Chan sternly, staring directly at Minho.

Minho shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling caught out.

“Fine. I just think he was a little too soft, that's all.” Changbin grumbles, settling back into his seat.

“Okay, boys.” Chan claps, signaling it’s time to move on. “I know we’ve only just finished our contract with Y/n, but I wanted to take the opportunity to discuss our next client and their requests.” 

But Minho is barely listening. His mind keeps going back to you. Back to the way your lips felt against his own. The way your tongue sought his. The way you hooked a leg over his arm, seeking friction against your sweet little pussy. Fuck. Focus.

“So we have several women requesting two of us at once, and a couple are just after one. I thought we could divvy up the contracts and conduct them over the same few days.”

Everyone nods in agreement. It makes sense, that way if another client seeks five or six of them then they will have availability. 

“Okay. The first is a request for two doctors. I think Seungmin and Jeongin would be good for that, yes?” He looks up at the pair and they both nod. Neither of them are new to that role. “Then a request for a fae themed scenario. I’m thinking we could use that cabin in the woods, the one we used for the kidnapping one, yeah? Felix, I think you’d be perfect.”

”No worries. I’ll get the place ready, and I’m pretty sure I saw the perfect costume online.” He makes a note on his phone to follow up.

“Good, make sure it can be sent express post. Um, a vampire request. Hyunjin?” he looks up at him and Hyunjin nods in acceptance. 

“Then there’s this one I quote ‘threesome where one guy is in me and another guy in him.’”

“Ooo ooo me!” Jisung raises his hand enthusiastically, almost jumping out of his seat.

“Alright, Jisung. Who else is happy to assist?”

Jisung turns to Minho. “Please, hyung!!! Be my partner!” He bats his eyelids at him.

“Fine.” Minho rolls his eyes. Actually he is secretly glad he does’t have to directly fuck another woman so soon after you.

“Yes!” Jisung fist pumps the air.

“Lastly, a personal trainer fantasy. Bin, you and I can take that one. Okay, everyone will receive emails with the full details, so make sure you read them thoroughly, and converse with your partner if you have one. Good job, boys. Enjoy your time off, and see you soon.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I wonder if she likes cats? Minho is still thinking about you when he lets himself into his apartment and is greeted by his fur baby. “Hey, Soonie,” he says, squatting down and patting his cat. “You miss me, huh? It’s okay, Daddy’s home now.” 

He potters around his apartment, putting on a load of clothes washing, vacuuming, and then cooking himself a meal. All while trying not to look at his phone where he now has your phone number he stole from your file. 

At some point while he’s cooking, he finds his phone in his hand and is staring at the number.

Is it too soon to call you? Of course it is. What kind of desperate fool are you?

He sighs and locks his phone, setting it back on the countertop and resumes stirring his pot of sauce. Maybe he could ask you over for a meal? His eyes drift back to his phone. Stop. No. Fuck. You are driving him crazy. He shuts his phone away in a kitchen drawer and goes to eat his dinner.

After successfully ignoring the strong pull coming from the kitchen drawer, Minho takes a shower, rubs one out to the thought of you on the interrogation table, then settles down on his couch to open his laptop.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, willing himself to focus, while Soonie decides it's the perfect time for pats. “What a cute little pussy, hmm.” Minho coos as it tries to climb onto his laptop as he reads the notes for his upcoming threesome. But it’s not long until his eyes drift towards his kitchen, to where his phone is still sitting in the drawer.

“Fuck it”. He says, sliding out from under his cat. He can’t think of anything else but messaging or calling you. He can’t focus on this next assignment. Fuck, he could barely think about his dinner without his mind drifting off to wondering how your sweet cunt would taste.

He doesn’t care if he looks desperate. Fuck, he is desperate. He opens the drawer and pulls out his phone, and after taking a deep, grounding breath, he dials your number.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

‘Resisted arrest. Force required to detain the suspect. However, once handcuffed she was extremely enthusiastic to obey. Her mouth was very skilled and cunt was cooperative.’ - Changbin

‘I will be keeping an eye on her to ensure she is arrested and questioned for any criminal activity she becomes involved in.’ - Minho

‘The suspect was easily coerced into double penetration, climaxing multiple times. She was displeased when we removed our penises from her to restrain her to the ceiling chains, but settled once we were back inside her.

The suspect is the most responsive we have encountered so far, and is definitely a favorite.’ - Hyunjin

‘How we ended up with the prettiest suspect in the world I will never know! Her pussy is the most perfect I have ever felt. So tight, warm and soaking wet.’ Han

‘CONCERNS: Detective Lee Minho.’ - Chan

“Fucking hell.” You whistle low, closing the police report. “Chief Chan is concerned with Minho?” you mumble to yourself. Was he not acting his usual self with you? Did the Chi-, Chan, know about the kiss?

You have done absolutely nothing since arriving home from the police station several hours ago. Except for looking through your file and reliving all those beautiful cocks that filled you up perfectly. You’re still buzzing from the entire experience, and you’re not quite ready to come back to reality. 

You flick to the photos Felix took of you. He was right, they are beautiful. Erotic even. You bite your lip as your eyes run over your bruises, bites marks, and injuries. You feel a pulsing sensation in your core. You need to touch yourself. Already? You say to your pussy, looking down in disbelief.

You gather all the items you need - a vibrating anal plug, lube, and your thickest dildo, and climb into bed. You moan when you press a lubed finger to your ass. As usual, it doesn’t take long until you’ve slipped a finger inside, preparing yourself to take the plug. Once you deem yourself ready, you push the plug inside and turn on the vibrator. Your breath quickens as the stretch, fullness and vibrations combined begin to send you feral.

You play with your clit. Rough, fast motions, all while your mind visualizes the photographs Felix took. You’re going to come hard and fast, but you want to prolong it. You slow your fingers right down to rubbing lazy circles on your clit, allowing your body to calm down.

You reach for the dildo and drench it in lube. Not that you need it, your pussy is absolutely dripping in arousal. You open your legs wider and push the dildo deep into your vagina. You cry out at the intrusion, your walls barely having time to adjust before you’re pulling it out and ramming it back inside you. Again, harder. You whimper from the pleasure-pain. You reach behind you and increase the speed of the anal vibrator, then you start to tug on it, stretching your anus slightly.

“Fuck!” You moan, feeling yourself about to climax. “Close. So fucking close.” You babble to yourself. You’re almost there. The point of no return. Your body tenses, your legs shake.

Your phone rings.

Your eyes shoot open and you grab your phone. Minho! A video call? Fuck. You scramble to sit up, fix your hair, and forgetting you are naked, you answer the phone.

Minho’s eyes almost pop out of his head, but he recovers quickly. “Nice tits, kitten.” He smirks.

Your arm quickly comes to cover yourself. 

“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t seen absolutely everything.” He teases. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time - actually, what are you doing? You’re all flushed.” His eyes narrow.

“Nothing!” You squeak. 

“I don’t believe you.” he quips.

“Okay, fine I was masturbating.” You roll your eyes.

“Really? Already? Aren’t you sore?” 

“Nope. I'm fine.”

“Show me.”

“What?” You say shocked.

“I said show me.” He repeats seriously.

Nervously, You position the camera so he can see how wet you are.

“Fuck! You’ve got a plug in. Have you come yet?” He says in disbelief.

“Nope. Was almost there when you called. It’s like you knew.” You pouted.

“Oh kitten. Fuck. Such a good girl waiting for me before coming. Or is it you can’t come without me, hmm?”

“S’hard to come without someone watching.” You sulk, playing along.

“Fuck! Lucky I called. Go on. Play with yourself.”

You start to rub your clit again. Every so often you dip your fingers inside you to gather some wetness then bring it up to your clit.

“Have you got something you can fuck yourself with?” Minho says in a deep voice. 

You reach for your thick dildo and resume fucking yourself like you were doing earlier.

“Deeper. Wanna see you take it deeper.” Minho instructs. 

You want to obey, be a good girl for him, so you push the dildo in further so it hits your cervix on every thrust. “Need to come, Minho. Need to come.” You cry, thrusting into yourself frantically. “S’close..”

“I can hear how wet you are, kitten. That’s it, rub your clit. Good girl. I want you to imagine that’s me inside you.”

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck!” You whimper. “Let me come.”

“Scream for me, y/n.”

You explode into a million pieces, screaming, just as Minho demanded. Your body shakes for what feels like an eternity as waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you.

Eventually, you collapse on your mattress in exhaustion, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try and catch your breath.

“Fuck. You alright?” Minho laughs softly.

“No.” You choke. “So intense.”

“Well, glad I got to see that. Luckily I called when I did.”

“Why did you call?” You pick up your phone so you can look at him.

He runs his hands through his hair. “Oh yeah. So, um, the reason I actually called was to see if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner one night?”

You’re taken by surprise. Minho wants to have dinner with you?

“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. It’s probably not wh-”

“I’d love to.” You smile.

“Yeah?” He says in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

>>>>>>

“This looks delicious, Minho. You have lots of skills it seems.” You say grinning at the plate of pasta and bolognese in front of you. Your eyes almost roll back into your head when you take a bite. “Oh my god. This is fucking amazing!” you say with a mouthful of food. “Did you make the pasta from scratch?”

Minho smiles triumphantly. “Yes. The sauce too. Glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”  You grin and try your best to not scoff the entire plate down in one mouthful. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says gazing at you. You feel a heat flush over you. You aren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a nice top and denim shorts. You hoped it would be suitable enough for the occasion.

“Thank you. I think it’s the first time you’ve seen me in clothing?” You laugh. “You look good too.” You notice his cheeks flush a little.

“So,” You put your fork down. “How is it you came to be in your…um…profession?” You ask curiously.

Minho sits back in his chair, and pauses in thought. “Well, Chan started the business with Jisung - Han - and Changbin. Business grew quicker than they expected and so they needed to hire more staff.”

“Interesting. But what made you join?” You lean your elbows on the table, resting your chin in your hands. You’re curious to know more.

“Hmm. I suppose I thought it would make life easier, sexually speaking. It’s hard to find a partner that wants both a sex life like mine and also a sickly sweet romantic dynamic. It was too confusing for my previous partners. The ones I could see myself having a future with were put off by my tendencies. So I joined the group and got my satisfaction there. And it’s thrilling to please client’s who share similar desires. It really is.”

“But what about the sickly sweet romance? You don’t get that in the job.”

Minho shrugs. “I guess not. But at least I don’t keep being rejected by women this way.”

You can’t believe how anyone could reject Minho. He is kind and thoughtful. Very domesticated. You look around at his tidy home and then at the meal on your plate. But you get what he means. You know it too well.

“So have you got your next contract?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He cracks a huge grin. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well? What is it? What do you have to do?” Your eyes widen with enthusiasm.

“Hey, hey, Kitten.” He holds his hands up in a bid to calm you down. “That’s confidential.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I know them. Please.” You bat your eyelids.

“Okay, fine. It’s a threesome.” he concedes.

“A threesome? Yes, go ahead. Tell me more..” You gesture for him to continue.

“The exact wording of the brief is ‘I want someone in me, and someone inside him.’ Okay maybe that wasn’t the exact wording, but you get the gist.”

Your mouth hangs open in excitement. “So you’re telling me—”

“Jisung’s going to be in the client’s vagina, and I am going to be in Jisung’s ass.” He states.

“Woah! So you guys fuck each other too?” You shriek.

“Sometimes.” 

“Wait! I could’ve asked for you to fuck each other? Oh man, no one told me that.” You sit back and scowl.

“Well, you’ll have to book us again.” He teases.

“I just might. So who have you fucked in the group?” You ask excitedly, taking another mouthful of pasta.

“Jisung, a few times. Chan too.” He says matter of fact.

“Chan?! No way! Has anyone fucked you?” You say with your mouth full.

“Chan. Seungmin.”

“Seungmin?” You almost choke.

“It was an experience. Although you know perfectly well how he likes to fuck an ass.”

You nod laughing, then falling quiet as the image of Seungmin inside Minho flashes through your mind. Jisung too. He’d look so pretty being ruined by Minho.

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to meet your gaze.

“Yeah. Just trying to work out my next fantasy request for you guys. I quite like the idea of someone in me, someone in them, another in my mouth, then everyone else inside each other.”

“Do you now? I might have to keep a mental note of that.” Minho’s eyes sparkle deviously.

>>>>

“That really was a delicious meal, Minho. Thank you for cooking.” You say placing your empty plate by the sink. “Would you like me to lend a hand washing up?” You start looking for dishwashing detergent and sponges.

Minho’s arms wrap around you from behind and he nuzzles his mouth into your neck. You smile at the warm gesture. 

“I’d like you to lend a hand with something else.” He whispers against your ear. “But first.” He spins you around and presses your back against the bench. “I’ve been dying to kiss these lips all night.” he smashes down on you in a heated kiss, setting your insides on fire.

He pulls back to peel your top off over your head and throws it to the side. Then he’s unclasping your bra with skilled fingers, and that’s gone from your body in a matter of moments.

You suck in a breath as he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, nipping at it rough and urgently. Your head lolls back and you sigh. Your hands find the top of his head, weaving your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He bites down hard on your nipple and you whimper. Your core throbs for more of his roughness.

He comes up for air, a smear of blood across his lip, and kisses you wildly. “Turn around.” He growls, turning you so you’re facing away from him. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tugs on your arms so they are above your head. He threads the cuffs through the overhead cupboard handle and attaches them to your wrists. You tug on the restraints, but they are extremely secure, and now you are at the mercy of Detective Minho.

“Look at you.” He whispers as he cups a breast and squeezes it. “Looks like you need questioning again, hmm?” he snarls and your cunt squeezes.

Silently, he moves to the pantry, scanning the shelves. He nods when he finds what he’s looking for, a bottle of fractionated coconut oil. He takes it from the shelf and returns to resume his interrogation.

He sets the bottle of oil on the countertop and crouches behind you to yank your shorts and panties down your legs. He guides you step out of them. Leaving you naked and chained to his kitchen cupboard. 

You poke your ass out as he slides his palms up the backs of your thighs, finding their grip on your cheeks and spreading you wide. You’re dripping wet. You know it. You can feel it, and the grunt that Minho emits tells you he knows you're soaking. The need for him to touch you is too great and you make some pathetic noise. But he simply stands back up, leaving your deprived pussy untouched.

He reaches into the kitchen drawer again, pulling out a silicone spatula and places that next to the oil. Then to your delight he strips off his own clothes so he is naked too. You lick your lips and take in the magnificent form that is Lee Minho.

“Oh you like that, hmm? Too bad you’re unable to touch me.” He smirks as he unscrews the bottle of coconut oil and applies some to his hands.

You moan as he runs his oiled hands down your back and over your ass, then whimper as he kneads the skin near your hips. He repeats the motion, slicking up your body with the oil and massaging your breasts and eventually your pussy. 

“Fuck! Yes. Min. God.” You choke when he slides a finger inside you. You grind back against him, only for him to remove his hand and leave you empty. Your eyes follow his hand as it grasps the handle of the spatula, then you feel him dragging it down your spine.

Slap!

He hits you hard on your ass. You moan, digging your teeth into your lip. 

He gently strokes you with the spatula to sooth the skin, then he pulls it back.

Slap!

He massages the red skin with his free hand. 

“God, so fucking red. So pretty.”

Slap!

You cry out louder, the sting so much more harsh than the last.

And again. Slap! 

You whimper, your legs feeling like jelly.

Minho is about to land another blow when a voice from the living room interrupts you.

You both freeze.

“Hey, Hyung? I had an idea for our — Woah!” Jisung stops in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. “Oh fuck I’m sorry! I didn’t realize…wait… Y/n? Is that you?” His eyes narrow as you turn your head sheepishly. 

“Hi Han, Jisung? Can I call you that?” You smile, like nothing is happening.

Jusung blinks rapidly. Then he looks at Minho who is standing in the middle of the kitchen naked and outraged, and then back at you. Finally his gaze settles on your bright red bottom.

“Yah!” Yells Minho, throwing a tea towel over your rear end to try to offer some sort of coverage.

“Hyung, Man, it’s not like I haven’t seen all of her before. Hey! Actually, what is she doing here?” Jisung’s tone turns accusatory.

Minho glares at him. It’s all it takes for Jisung to concede. He throws his hands up “Okay, I’m leaving. Even though it looks like a lot of fun and… you know I could sit on the floor underneath her… suck her clit while you continue doing your dominant thing… No? Okay. Well. I’ll go. Bye Y/n.” He waves at you. 

“Bye, Jisung. Lovely to see you again.” You wink at him and the tea towel slips off, giving the stunned man a last view of you before Minho is ushering him out.

“You did that on purpose, kitten.” He growls, returning to the kitchen and pulling your head back by your hair. “Bet you wanted me to let him stay, huh?” 

“No…of course not. Just want you.” You whine. The reality though, is that you would have loved to feel Jisung’s mouth against your pussy. You close your eyes at the thought and squeeze your legs together.

Minho notices it and scoffs. “I know you’re lying. Which means… punishment.”

Once again he goes to the kitchen draw, this time taking out a wooden spoon and silicone coated tongs. Your eyes widen. 

“Five. You’ll receive five strikes with the wooden spoon. If you say orange or red, I stop immediately.” He gives his hand an experimental slap with the item. “Then,” he picks up the tongs, holding them in the air and letting them spring open.

You cunt clenches. The fact that Minho remembers you have a stretch kink makes your heart beat faster.  

He makes his way behind you and you prepare yourself for the wooden spoon.

“You have to count for me.” He states.

He brings the wooden spoon down onto your already sore ass with a hard slap. Your legs almost give way. “One.” you cry.

He strikes you again and again. A loud slap fills the room each time the wood makes contact with your skin. Tears stream down your face and you can barely count, each number coming out like a choked sob. 

“F-five.” You cry out the final number.

Minho returns the wooden spoon to the bench, then holds you in his arms. His hard, naked body against yours is comforting, his words of praise are soothing.

“Good girl. You took that so well.” He whispers, kissing your shoulder and massaging where he’d spanked you. “How was it? Not too much?” he checks in with you. “How are you feeling?”

“S’good..S’wet…Aching…p-pussy needs filling up. Need to come.” you babble.

Minho chuckles, his eyes smiling with admiration. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. One last thing before I fuck you. I know you can take it.”

He drizzles the end of the tongs with oil, then crouches down behind you. He holds the tongs closed and runs them through your glistening labia. You let out a moan. Then he catches your clit. He allows the tongs to open just enough so can capture it, pinching it hard. 

Jolts of arousal shoot through you and you cry out.

Then you feel the tongs at your entrance and you automatically push your ass out further, giving Minho more access. Keeping the tongs closed, he slides them inside you. You must look so filthy with a pair of kitchen utensils shoved up your vagina. 

He’s not gentle when he fucks you with them. He’s messy, sloppy, rough, but he manages to find your g-spot every time. You’re surely about to come, but he slows down, bringing the tongs to a standstill. You whimper, frustrated from having your orgasm stolen from you. Then you feel it. The tongs opening inside you. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You cry.

“Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.” You scream.

He chuckles as he scissors you open. 

“Fuck.” He hisses. His free hand spreads your cheek wide. “Pussy’s so good when it’s stretched like this.”

“Maybe you should’ve been a doctor.” You pant.

“Sometimes I am darlin’. You wait till I use a real speculum on this pretty cunt. Open you right up so I can see inside.”

His fingers land on your clit. The added sensation has you on the verge of release. “Minho… please. Need to come.” You beg.

“Yeah? Pussy needs to come, huh? Do it.” He starts an onslaught of scissoring then thrusting, while his deft fingers on your clit tighten that coil inside you.

You're perspiring, shaking, sobbing as you’re thrown off the precipice in an earth shattering orgasm.

“That’s it. Making a mess for me. Mmm… can hardly move these tongs you’re gripping so tight.”

You can’t even respond, your panting and shivering so hard, barely able to stand.

He eases the utensil out of you, tossing them into the kitchen sink, along with the items he used to cook for you earlier, then he’s lining himself up to your entrance.

“Just relax for me. Yes… fuck yes… that’s my girl… let me in…” he pushes himself all the way inside you. You welcome the smooth silky hardness against your walls, and he slides in and out with ease, despite your tight grip on him. 

Holding onto your hips he fucks into you harder until he’s built up a brutal pace that reminds you of when you were in the interrogation room. Except this time, he leans his body against your back and massages your breasts, caresses your stomach, and plants hot wet kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.

The roughness and the softness combined sends all sorts of unfamiliar feelings through your body. You like it, it feels good, and you feel tears pricking your eyes. You’re going to come again. Any second now the tension is going to snap.

“You take me so well, Kitten. It's like you were made for me.”

That does it. You come hard around his cock with a loud wailing sound. He fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm. “Gonna fill you. Gonna fill this perfect little cunt. My cunt.” He slams into you, almost knocking you off your feet then pulls out. He quickly works on freeing your wrists, turning you and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he impales you on his cock, fucking you whilst he makes his way to the dining table.

He lays you down on the table, and starts to slam into you hard again. His rhythm is hard, fast, and so so deep. “Gonna fill you..” he growls as he throws his head back and empties himself inside you. He stills, but you can still feel him pulsing and filling you to the brim.

He leans over you, collapsing on your chest, and you bring your arms around him, holding him silently for a few minutes.

“Let’s go wash you.” He says eventually, pulling himself out, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom.

Once the temperature of the water is comfortable, he helps you climb in with him and proceeds to wash your body.

It isn’t long until you’ve regained your composure and are able to stand steady on your feet. It’s only now that you can take in the man before you. You take the sponge from him, lather it up with body wash and start to wash his body. With a look of surprise and a hint of hesitation, he lets out an exhale and allows you to wash him.

He watches you as you run the sponge over his chest, down his torso, and drop to your knees in front of him. You swear you hear him whimper when your eyes land on his cock.

You drop the sponge and place your hands on his strong thighs. You need him in your mouth. He cups your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and through hooded eyelids you silently seek permission to take care of him. He releases your chin and lets out a shaky breath when you wrap your hand around the base of his semi erect cock. Slowly, you lick the length of the underside. Then swirl your tongue around the tip. He grows rapidly, and it has you dying to choke on it.

Minho simply stands still while you work his cock, providing absolutely no help. But that doesn’t deter you. Or slow you down. You decide you’re going to choke on him all by yourself. You pop off with a plop, fill your lungs with air, then take him fully into your mouth. Cupping his delicious ass cheeks with your hands, you pull him towards you while you bob your head up and down his shaft. 

You hear his breath become heavier, and a hand wraps around your wet hair, his other he rests against the tiled wall behind you. 

“Look at you. So hungry for cock, you’re choking yourself.” He purrs. “I’m close… fuck, im so close.” His hips begin to press forwards, pushing his dick further into your throat. He cums quickly, spurting thick ropes cum into your mouth. “Holy shit!” He chokes as he empties himself.

After you’ve milked him of every drop and swallowed him down, he pulls you back to your feet. He looks almost bewildered when he looks into your eyes. “Y/n. How are you so perfect for me?” He whispers. 

You swallow hard. You’re thinking something similar about him. Instead, you shrug. “Well I’m not sure detective. Maybe you’ll have to investigate further?” you quip.

He chuckles. “Maybe it's better to just go with it and not question it.”

You nod in agreement. “Let’s not overthink it, then.”

You both dry off, and Minho leads you to his bed, a big King size bed with black sheets and a black quilt. 

“Oh, you’re not sending me on my way?” You tease.

”Fuck no. I need…need to hold you.” He says softly, pulling you onto the bed with him.

He falls asleep quickly with his arms around you and your head on his chest. His steady breath is soothing as his chest rises and falls. You’re not sure what is happening, how this man seems to be able to fill so many of your needs, or how easy he is to be around. Yet here you are, and you’re thankful you took a chance with the sex fantasy agency. 

Your thoughts shift to Minho’s next assignment. Jisung in some woman’s cunt, and Minho in Jisung. Fuck, that sounds like a dream. Then your mind goes to Jisung walking in on you and Minho earlier. What would have happened if Minho asked him to stay?

You sigh, feeling confused. You've got strong feelings for Minho, yet you feel yourself grow wet at the thought of Jisung, and the rest of them.

You find Minho’s hand and thread your fingers through his. That’ll be a problem for future you. Right now you’re ready to fall asleep in the arms of someone that finally accepts you for who you are.

>>>>>>

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife @delulustardust @eastjonowhere

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[just-aake]

A Feline Connection Part 7

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has to face the harsh reality that she can’t help everyone.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, light fluff

Words: 3790

“Whitney Frost, daughter of Byron Frost—a typical Wall Street tycoon,” Tony’s voice echoes through the phone as he reads out the details FRIDAY managed to dig up.

On Natasha’s screen, she can see multiple files and articles pulled up on Tony’s monitors, the holographic images casting a blue glow on his face as he continues.

“There are plenty of articles about her earlier years. Standard socialite magazine garbage—life of a spoiled rich kid, extravagant parties, lavish vacations. You get the idea.”

Natasha lets out a dry scoff at the irony, her lips curling slightly. 

“Coming from the playboy billionaire who once blew up half of his mansion?”

Tony gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his chest in a wounded gesture. 

“Watch it, Romanoff. I’m helping you here.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha nods. “My bad. Please, continue.”

Tony huffs, turning his attention back to his screens. 

“After her father’s death, she goes dark for a couple of years. No public appearances, no sightings—nothing. Coincidentally, around the same time, reports start cropping up about a new leader rising within one of the East Coast’s major crime families. Descriptions of the leader consistently include one distinct detail: a golden mask, giving them the title–”

“Madame Masque,” Natasha finishes for him, her tone flat.  

“Bingo,” Tony confirms. “Over the years, she’s pulled off some pretty big moves. Arms deals, arson, major heists—she’s dangerous, Nat.”

There’s a shuffle of papers in the background, and Peter’s voice chimes in. 

“I don’t get it, Mr. Stark. If she was already rich, why turn to crime?”

Natasha doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“It’s not always about money,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just about power and control.” 

A brief silence follows, the weight of her words sinking in. 

Tony’s expression darkens slightly, and even Peter doesn’t offer a rebuttal. They all know Natasha is right. 

People like Whitney thrive on domination, bending others to their will. 

Natasha’s frown deepens, her thoughts drifting back to the night before—the memory of you leaving with Whitney still fresh and raw. She exhales slowly, the sting of hurt in her chest flaring again, though she pushes it down. 

Suddenly, Tony’s voice cuts through the quiet. 

“Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. What are you doing?” 

Natasha’s brows knit in confusion as she glances at the screen. “What do you mean?”

Tony leans closer to the camera, pointing a finger at her with exaggerated disbelief.

“Why are you bottle-feeding that cat like it’s a baby?”

Natasha pulls Widow closer, cradling the tiny feline protectively against her chest. In her free hand, she holds a small baby bottle filled with water, offering it near the cat’s mouth. 

“She still won’t eat complete meals,” Natasha explains defensively. “At least this way, she’s staying hydrated.” 

Widow lets out a faint, sad meow, turning away from the bottle and burrowing deeper into Natasha’s arm. 

Natasha sighs softly, her expression tinged with disappointment as she looks down at the cat.

Peter’s voice pipes up from off-screen. 

“Miss Romanoff, I could go pick up some different kinds of cat food if you’d like?”

Before Natasha can respond, Tony waves him off. 

“Great idea, kid. Take my card and have at it.”

“Awesome,” Peter replies, his excitement evident as he disappears from view. 

As soon as Peter is gone, Natasha raises an eyebrow at Tony. 

“Was that really a good idea?”

Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Eh, it’ll be fine.” 

“So, what is it?” Natasha asks knowingly. She can tell Tony got rid of Peter so that he would not hear whatever it is Tony was holding back. 

“Some tough love,” he says bluntly, his relaxed demeanor shifting into something more serious. He leans forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “Look, Nat, if your friend is running with people like Whitney Frost, you might need to face the facts.”

“Which are?” Natasha’s tone grows colder, her jaw tightening.

“She’s a criminal,” Tony states flatly, the words landing like a stone.

Natasha’s frown deepens, the label grating against her as she reflexively clutches Widow a little tighter. “And?” 

Tony sighs, shaking his head as if she’s missing the obvious. 

“You need to start treating her like one.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow. 

“Did you forget I used to be an assassin?” she counters, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

“And now you’re an Avenger,” Tony fires back without missing a beat. “Not everyone’s like you, Nat. Not everyone wants to change.” 

The silence stretches between them, tension simmering as Natasha processes his words.  

Seeing her still hesitant to accept the fact, he adds softly, “You can’t help someone who doesn’t even want it.”

Natasha frowns, her eyes drifting down to the little cat in her arms. She strokes her fur delicately, and Widow returns a faint purr in response, though she still refuses to move much more than that. 

“Send me everything you have on Whitney and Madame Masque,” Natasha says, her determination resolving. 

She’s not going to give up on you so easily.

Tony studies her for a moment, his expression knowing before he sighs and leans back in his chair. 

“Already done.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A deep sigh escapes Natasha as she rubs her tired eyes, trying to dispel the exhaustion. The hours have stretched into the late night, a glance at the window and then at the clock on her tablet confirming just how much time has passed.

Beside her on the couch, Widow is curled into a small ball, her tiny body seeming to shrink further with every passing moment. 

The meal Natasha had prepared for her earlier sits barely touched—a few nibbles at best.

Though, in her tired mind, Natasha can’t help but let a stray thought creep in: maybe her cooking is bad enough to deter a cat. 

The self-deprecating humor makes her sigh again, a sure sign of just how drained she feels. 

Setting the tablet on the table, Natasha leans back against the armrest of the couch, her head tilting to rest against the cushion. She raises an arm to cover her eyes, allowing herself just a brief reprieve, not planning to sleep but needing the darkness to ease the strain from hours of research. 

For a while, the silence wraps around her like a blanket. 

Natasha focuses on her breathing, the steady rise and fall helping her ground herself. 

Eventually, she debates whether she has it in her to dive back into her work for the night when a sudden movement shifts at her side. 

Tiny paws pad up her torso, and then a soft weight settles against her stomach.

A familiar, distinct meow breaks the quiet—a chirping, happy sound Natasha hasn’t heard from Widow in days. 

She freezes, her body going rigid as suspicion blooms in her chest. Breathing slowly, Natasha tries to maintain her sleeping position so as not to give herself away.

Widow’s sudden shift in mood—it could only mean one thing.

“I know you’re awake,” your voice cuts through the stillness, warm and teasing from just above her.

Realizing she’s caught, Natasha exhales softly with a mix of both relief at your presence but also mild frustration at the fact that you were able to sneak up on her again. 

She removes her arm from her eyes, blinking up to meet your gaze.

You’re leaning casually against the back of the couch, your head tilted and resting atop the cushion, a small smirk on your lips. 

“It’s way too early for you to have fallen asleep,” you tease lightly, your voice carrying that familiar playful lilt. 

Your attention shifts to Widow, who’s now eagerly leaning against the cushion to lick at your outstretched hand. 

“Isn’t that right, Widow?” you coo, your tone softening as you address the little cat.

Widow chirps again, louder this time, in agreement and nuzzles against your hand with obvious affection. 

Natasha can’t help but scoff, shaking her head at the way the two of you seem to operate as a perfect team.

Carefully, she sits up, trying not to disturb Widow perched atop her. 

However, the movement brings her face unintentionally close to yours. She stills as she realizes the proximity, her lips parting slightly as the quip she intended to deliver gets caught in her throat. 

Instead, all that escapes is a soft exhale. 

Your smirk falters, replaced by a small, almost sad smile. Your eyes search hers, lingering as if you can see something more beyond her carefully maintained exterior. 

The intensity of the moment steals Natasha’s breath, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. 

Breaking the tension, you lift a hand into view, holding up a bag of takeout containers.

“I brought dinner,” you say softly, the warmth in your tone cutting through the charged silence.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha sits cross-legged on the couch, a takeout box resting limply on her lap as her attention drifts away from the half-eaten meal inside. 

Instead, her gaze falls on the two of you. 

You’re seated on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, also cross-legged, with Widow nestled comfortably in your lap. 

The little cat looks more content than she has in days, her tiny paws resting on the edge of the table as she eagerly eats the torn-up pieces of meat you prepared for her. 

A wave of relief washes over Natasha at the sight of Widow eating normally again, her movements lively and natural. It eases the knot of worry that’s been sitting in her chest, but as always, her focus inevitably drifts to you. 

It’s a pull she can’t resist, her gaze lingering on the subtle details in your expression, the quiet ease with which you handle the moment. 

Natasha absently stirs the noodles in her box, her mind turning over the question she’s been holding back since you arrived. It gnaws at her, but finding the right way to ask feels like navigating a minefield.

“How…” she begins, her voice hesitant, but the words falter. 

Natasha bites her lip, uncertain whether she has the right to pry into your life any deeper. 

You glance up at her, catching on to the unfinished question. Setting your takeout container on the table, you tilt your head slightly, offering her an easy opening. 

“How am I here?” you ask knowingly, your voice gentle.

Wordlessly, Natasha nods, grateful but wary of the answer.

“You didn’t look at the USB?” you ask, a touch of curiosity in your tone. 

Natasha shakes her head. 

“I was busy worrying about more pressing matters,” she says, her eyes flicking meaningfully to Widow, who’s still munching happily in your lap. “And anyway, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to have it in the first place.” 

You huff lightly at her words, and with an amused shake of your head, you turn Widow to face you, your fingers gently scratching behind her ears. 

“You were supposed to give it to her,” you chide playfully. 

Widow lets out a small, sassy meow, as if to argue her point, and then wiggles free from your grasp. 

Natasha watches with mild curiosity as the little cat pads over to the side table, where the USB has sat untouched for days. Widow grabs the small device in her mouth and trots back toward Natasha. 

Stopping at her side, Widow drops the USB onto Natasha’s lap with a decisive plop before looking up at her with a smug little chirp, her tail swishing behind her. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile as she picks up the USB. 

“Thank you,” she remarks dryly, her tone soft but teasing.

Widow lets out a pleased meow, circling once before hopping back into your lap, her little body nestling comfortably against you. 

Natasha’s gaze shifts to the USB, her fingers brushing over its surface thoughtfully, before lifting her eyes to meet yours.

“So,” she says, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity, “what exactly am I going to find on here?” 

You glance down at Widow, stroking her head absently as you answer, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of something more. 

“Whitney had a scheduled meeting out of state with some buyers tonight.” 

At the mention of the other woman, Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, reading between the lines. 

“So this is…?”

“Everything you need to finish your original mission,” you reply evenly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “The buyers’ identities, their locations, the details of each weapons deal. Enough to track them down and stop the weapons from being used in the wrong hands.” 

Natasha studies you closely, her sharp instinct catching on to the underlying reason for your sudden assistance in her original mission. 

“To shift my attention from Whitney.” 

Your silence at her pointed remark is telling. 

Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, the unspoken truth hanging between you. She tilts her head, her voice firmer now. 

“Why are you protecting her?” 

You flinch slightly at the accusation, your hand pausing mid-stroke on Widow’s fur. After a moment, you let out a sigh, your gaze drifting downward. 

“You know, it wasn’t always like this between us,” you say quietly. 

Natasha stays silent, letting you continue.

“Her dad—her real dad—was the original leader of the organization,” you explain, your voice tinged with something softer, almost nostalgic. “I met her when she was training to take over his position. Or, rather, she found me. I was just a simple thief back then. But not to her.”

You pause, your hand resuming its slow strokes over Widow’s fur as you collect your thoughts. 

“She made me an offer—something I never expected. Another opportunity for my life. To join her. She saw something in me. Something…more.”

The words hang in the air, and Natasha feels a pang of understanding, recalling her own experience from the past. 

“It felt good,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone look at you like that, like you’re worth something. Like you could be more than you ever thought of yourself.” 

You let out a soft, bitter chuckle. 

“She’s always been good at that. Making you feel special. Like you’re the only one who matters.” 

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she listens. She doesn’t interrupt, sensing the weight behind your words.

“No matter what she did—how far she went—I always found a way to forgive her,” you continue, your tone darkening. “Until I couldn’t anymore.” 

There’s a long pause, the quiet broken only by the faint sounds of Widow’s contented purring. Finally, you lift your gaze to Natasha’s, the vulnerability in your eyes stark, unguarded, and disarming.

“And then I met you,” you say softly, your voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “And for a while, I felt that same thing again. That feeling from the beginning—when it was just lighthearted, fun, and flirty, intoxicating even.”

Natasha’s breath catches, her chest tightening at the quiet admission. The honesty in your words cuts through the usual banter and teasing, leaving her unsure how to respond.

“But I already know how this ends,” you add, your voice softer now, tinged with resignation. “I’ve seen it before. And I can’t…” You trail off, shaking your head slightly, the words left unfinished. 

Natasha watches you closely, her sharp gaze softening despite the weight of your rejection. She leans forward, her voice low but steady in understanding. 

“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.” 

Her tone shifts, gaining a quiet intensity and insistence.

“But you don’t need to stay with her either. We can figure out a way to disengage the bomb without you returning to her. A way to keep you both safe.”

Your gaze lowers, regret flickering in your expression. When you finally speak, your voice is heavy with sorrow.

“I have to go back.”

Natasha’s lips part in protest, her brows knitting together in frustration, but before she can speak, you cut her off, your tone firmer now.

“Not because of the bomb,” you clarify. “But because of what I did to her.”

You rise slowly, retrieving the tablet from the table, its screen still displaying the research Tony sent on Whitney. Sensing the shift, Widow hops into Natasha’s lap, purring softly as Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself.

Sitting down beside her, you scroll through the files until you find what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you turn the screen toward her. 

Natasha scans the report, her frown deepening with each line. 

It details a failed raid on a Stark Industries facility, ending in a catastrophic explosion. Operatives were killed or gravely injured. Their leader, however, was not discovered among those found.

“I abandoned her that night,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “None of that would have happened if I had stayed.” 

“You don’t know that,” Natasha counters firmly, her gaze snapping to yours, her hand reaching out instinctively to rest atop yours.

A faint, sad smile tugs at your lips at her touch, and you shake your head slightly.

“I appreciate the thought,” you reply, your voice tinged with bittersweet humor, “but we both know that’s not true—especially considering how I’ve managed to sneak past Stark’s defenses twice now without any problems.”

The smirk you add at the end is small, almost fleeting, but it carries a sting of truth that Natasha can’t ignore.

You’re exceptionally skilled. She can’t deny that.

Your fingers brush hers lightly, tracing the bandages covering her knuckles. A contemplative sadness crosses your face.

Then slowly, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft, almost apologetic kiss against her skin before lowering it back onto Widow’s fur.

“I’m not innocent here, Natasha,” you continue resolutely, your voice low, as if the words are for you as much as for her. “I never was.”

Natasha’s jaw tightens at your words, but she doesn’t interrupt as you continue. 

“I owe her a lot,” you admit, your voice heavy with the weight of your past. “She gave me a chance when no one else did. She saw something in me that I couldn’t. And yet…” Your voice falters slightly, but you press on.  

“I still betrayed her in the end.”

Your gaze shifts to Natasha, your eyes meeting hers with a depth of emotion that makes her chest ache. 

“You deserve more than to wait for me to eventually do the same to you,” you say softly. “More than I already have.” 

Natasha’s chest tightens, the quiet ache spreading as she watches you, her gaze taking in every flicker of pain and regret etched across your features.

But this time, it’s not sadness that rises within her—it’s anger. Not at you, but at everything else.

At Whitney, for manipulating you. At the circumstances that have pushed you to this breaking point. And most of all, at the invisible chains of guilt that hold you hostage, preventing you from seeing a way out.

Her hands twitch, the urge to reach for you almost overwhelming. She wants to close the distance between you, to grasp your shoulders and shake you free from the weight of your past, to tell you that this isn’t your only option.

But she hesitates, her fingers curling into fists as she forces herself to stop.

Forcing you to accept her help, no matter how badly she wants to, would make her no different from Whitney. It would just be another form of control, another pressure you don’t deserve.

And Natasha refuses to become that.

Instead, after a long pause, she speaks with quiet determination.

“What will happen to Widow?” 

You look down at the small cat, curled up peacefully in Natasha’s lap, and sigh. 

“I can’t bring her back with me,” you admit, your voice thick with regret. “But I’ll stay with her as long as I can tonight. Make sure she’s okay, and I’ll explain it to her—let her think it’s like last time, when she stayed with you while I was away.” 

You glance at Natasha, searching for her response. 

“If…you’re still willing to take care of her?”

Natasha straightens slightly, her expression softening as a small smirk forms on her lips.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Your lips twitch into a faint smile at her answer, gratitude flickering in your eyes. 

But Natasha isn’t done. She leans forward, her tone resolute as her gaze locks onto yours.

“You don’t have to keep punishing yourself,” she says, her words deliberate and carefully chosen. “If you feel guilty about what you’ve done, you can always make it right for yourself. You still have that choice.” 

Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, an unspoken plea woven into her steady tone. 

Natasha’s expression holds no judgment, only quiet insistence and something deeper—hope.

The silence that follows feels fragile, as if it could shatter at the wrong move. 

Widow shifts slightly in her lap, her tiny body curling closer as her soft purring fills the space between you. 

It’s a faint sound, but comforting nonetheless, grounding you in a moment that feels far too heavy for words.

For a fleeting second, Natasha sees something in your eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker, as if her words might be reaching you. 

But then your gaze drops, breaking the connection, and the moment slips away. 

Without a word, you gently lift Widow from her lap, cradling her with the same care Natasha has come to associate with you, and rise to your feet. 

Natasha sits up a little straighter, her sharp eyes following your movements as you step toward the hallway, your figure outlined by the dim glow of the room.

“Try to get some rest, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone steady but carrying a subtle finality that roots her in place. You pause just before disappearing from sight, your head turning slightly as if debating whether to say more.

“You, out of everyone, deserve it.” 

The words linger in the air long after you’ve gone into your bedroom, wrapping around Natasha like a quiet echo. 

She stays where she is, her fingers drifting absentmindedly over the fabric of the couch where you’d been sitting just moments ago, as if tracing the memory of you.

The warmth of your presence is gone, replaced by an emptiness that spreads through the room, making it feel colder, quieter. 

Natasha exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch and staring at the space where you had disappeared from her view. 

She knows you meant those words for her, but the ache in her chest tells her they’re something you’ve denied yourself for far too long. 

“So do you,” she whispers into the empty room, her voice barely audible but filled with a longing that she knows you’ll never let yourself hear.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

a/n: Fair warning, I believe there’s only a couple parts left in this series. But don’t quote me on this cause we all know I’ve never been good at predicting the number of chapters left. Again thanks for reading!

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it or if the tag did not work for you, please let me know.

Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl, @skittlebum, @queen-of-chaotic-surprises, @ima-gi--na-tion, @rainix13, @gay4hotmilfs, @imaginexred, @caramelcat123, @2silverchain, @nowthisisliving27, @waltermis, @scarlettbitchx, @self-indulgent-writer, @ashadash0904, @alowint, @littlyamadeus, @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic, @imthenatynat, @transparentflapfarmsludge, @natashasilverfox, @mousetheorist, @btay3115, @samfunko, @wandaromamoff69, @lost-in-the-ice, @ahsatanizgay, @stonemags, @karsonromanoff, @wandanatlov3r, @l1kepeps1cvla, @esposadejoyhuerta, @fxckmiup, @panickedbabygay, @esposadejoyhuerta, @azaleavolkova, @gay4wandanat, @escapereality4music, @caspianalexander007, @henkermen, @xxnaiaxx, @alyssa-bessse, @alianovnasposts

[dissapointu]

Thinking about Arcane with a partner who is terminally ill and has to stay in bed hooked up to a bunch of needles and tubes

Thank you for all your work you are amazing <3

Thank you so much for your kind words!

I swear we are allergic to happiness-

Jinx

Jinx hides her pain behind manic energy, trying to make you smile even when it feels like her heart is shattering. She brings you handmade gadgets, some of which are purely for fun—tiny robots that dance or explode into colorful sparks, filling the room with chaos and laughter. But when the exhaustion hits, she curls up beside your bed, her fingers tracing the tubes and needles with a quiet reverence. In those moments, her vulnerability surfaces, and she whispers about her fears of losing you.

Vi

Vi hates feeling powerless, and seeing you like this is her worst nightmare. She refuses to leave your side, bringing you books and stories of her past to keep your mind off the pain. Her hands are always gentle when adjusting your blanket or holding yours, but her emotions often spill over. When no one else is around, she breaks down, pressing her forehead against your arm, her tears soaking into the fabric as she begs you to hold on just a little longer.

Sevika

Sevika is practical, channeling her pain into action. She spends hours ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible, fixing equipment when it malfunctions and running errands for anything you need. At night, when she thinks you’re asleep, she sits by your bed, nursing a drink and talking to you like everything’s normal—about work, about Zaun, about how much she admires your strength. If you catch her in a rare moment of vulnerability, she’ll brush it off, saying, “You’re the tough one here, not me.”

Silco

Silco is a man of control, and your condition reminds him of his helplessness. He spares no expense in seeking the best care for you, but he’s always haunted by the sight of you so frail. His visits are quiet but full of unspoken devotion—he reads reports aloud, his voice calm and steady, though his eyes flicker to your face more often than the papers. Late at night, when no one else is around, he gently brushes your hair back and murmurs promises he knows he might not be able to keep.

Vander

Vander is a steady presence, his warmth grounding you even in your worst moments. He sits by your bed, holding your hand as he tells you stories from his youth or hums a soothing tune. He often brings the children by to cheer you up, their laughter filling the room. Vander tries to stay strong for you, but his hands tremble when he thinks you’re not looking. His love is unwavering, and he’ll remind you every day how much you mean to him.

Ekko

Ekko struggles with the weight of seeing you like this, but he refuses to let despair take over. He spends his time crafting small inventions to make your life easier or bring a smile to your face. When the silence becomes too much, he talks about his dreams for the future, painting vivid pictures of what could be. He clings to hope, even when it feels fragile, and does everything in his power to make sure you know you’re not alone.

Jayce

Jayce throws himself into researching treatments, convinced he can find a way to help you. When he’s not in the lab, he’s by your side, his hand resting over yours as he explains his latest breakthroughs or reminisces about the moments you’ve shared. He hides his fear behind his optimism, but when you tell him it’s okay to let go of the facade, he breaks down, resting his head on your shoulder and letting his tears fall freely.

Viktor

Viktor is no stranger to pain and illness, and he understands your struggles on a deeply personal level. He spends hours at your bedside, quietly tinkering with gadgets or reading aloud from books he thinks you’ll enjoy. His touch is gentle, his words soft, and his presence unwavering. He hates that he can’t fix this, but he makes sure you never feel alone, offering comfort in the form of quiet companionship and shared understanding.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is your pillar of strength, calm and composed even when her heart is breaking. She works tirelessly to ensure you have the best care, pulling strings and calling in favors to get you what you need. She’s a constant presence, her hand often resting on yours as she talks about the world outside. When she’s overwhelmed, she steps outside for a moment to compose herself, returning with a renewed determination to make the time you have left as meaningful as possible.

Mel Medarda

Mel is a force of grace and composure, but your condition shakes her to her core. She fills your room with beauty—art, flowers, and soft fabrics—to make your space a sanctuary. She sits with you for hours, her voice soothing as she shares stories from her childhood or discusses philosophy and politics. Her mask only slips in the quiet moments, her hand lingering on yours as she murmurs about how much she loves you, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is not one to show weakness, but your illness makes her feel a vulnerability she hasn’t known in years. She takes charge of your care, ensuring you’re surrounded by the best physicians and resources. Though her visits are often brief, they’re filled with quiet intensity. She sits by your bed, her large hand covering yours as she promises to protect you, her voice steady even as her heart aches.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is practical and nurturing, spending her days by your side to ensure you’re comfortable and cared for. She’s always quick with a joke or a story to lift your spirits, her warmth a balm against the cold reality of your condition. But when the laughter fades and the room grows quiet, she leans her head against your shoulder, her voice soft as she tells you how much you mean to her, her heart aching with every word.

Lest

Lest hates seeing you like this, but she channels her emotions into quiet devotion. She watches over you like a guardian, her sharp eyes scanning every tube and needle to ensure everything is in order. She often sits beside your bed, her tail curling around her legs as she talks about the world outside, filling the silence with her soothing voice. When you catch her staring at you with a mix of love and sorrow, she quickly looks away, her ears twitching, but her hand remains firmly in yours.

[signedaiko]

Hi there! Could I request HCs of Optimus Prime, Prowl, and Ratchet (separately) from Transformers Animated with a Cybertronian![S/O] [Romantic] [Gender Neutral] who is an Autobot specialized in Special Operations?

Cybertronian![S/O] is a commander of their own Special Ops team back on Cybertron doing missions ranging from hostage rescues to combat. They tried to visit Earth with the Elite Guards whenever possible to see their respective partner(s) since they missed them.

They may be misunderstood as tough, scary, and dangerous at first glance, sometimes mistaken for a Decepticon before showing their Autobot insignia. Even mentioning their designation (name) sends shivers down anybot’s struts (backs).

In actuality, they’re kind, sweet, and less serious when off duty and can take a joke.

Optimus | Prowl | Ratchet [Animated]

In which their s/o is the commander of the Autobot's information operations and visits Earth to see them.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Autobot.

Optimus

Despite all his sucking up to the commander, Ultra Magnus, few knew Optimus looked up to more than just the one

He wasn't under your authority, but you were still a commander, and he was so utterly proud of you for amounting to something

He hadn't seen you since his touchdown on Earth, but you'd been checking on him far more frequently to make sure he was okay

Initially, he doesn't tell you about the cons and tells you it's just human villains because he knows you're busier than he could ever imagine and doesn't want you to worry even more

But you do find out through Ultra Magnus when it's reported, and it only takes a week before you can find an excuse to step away from your position to see him

Your arrival on a small, dark ship catches the attention of Bee and Sari during one of their excursions, and they both go running back to their team, claiming more Decepticons have arrived

When he does go to investigate, he's pleased to see you step from the ship, but your name coming from his mouth only seems to unnerve the others more

"Whoa! Prime, you know them???"

"More than know, actually. Everyone, meet my conjunx."

Jaws are dropping

Very quickly they get to learn your and Prime's history together, how you met in elite guard training, how he saved your life, how different you were than the rumors made you to seem

"Don't be fooled; they're very scary when they need to be."

Prowl

Prowl, like most things in his life, kept any mention of you to himself

After all, the others on his team liked to pry, and you were something precious to him; someone no one understood but him

Not only that, but he was worried if he brought you up, someone might try to contact you, and he knew that above all, your missions were at their peak, one after another

It didn't take anyone else, though; his own silence and lack of disclosure eventually led to you deciding to visit him yourself, which culminated in him literally waking up to the others screaming about a con at the base

He knew the very sound of your spark hum apart from any other noise and immediately told everyone else to calm down

Of course he's happy to see you, but he really wishes you wouldn't see him at such a low point

Stuck with a team of nobodies on a planet one hundredth the size of the one you protected

But you never cared about any of that; you were just happy to see your bot again, and beyond all the war stuff, he was happy to see you, too

He's very protective of you and doesn't let you spend too much time with the others because they're 'too annoying to deserve your attention'

Ratchet

Ever since the mission he carried out with you to save Arcee, he'd felt shame in comparing himself to you

Ratchet used to be on your team before you commanded it, but he eventually strayed into his current position while handling his guilt

Guilt or not, he admittedly hated that you'd taken up such an important position because it meant you had a bigger target on your back

Communicating with you poses a danger to you, so he's reluctant to send much your way and just accepts transmissions from you, which only Prime manages to find out about

Ratchet doesn't care if you're scary or not, if you're strong or not; he just wishes he could keep you from being known, keep you safe

Against all his wishes, you continue to be a more important link in the war effort, and you are the one protecting him in the relationship more than anything

Ratchet manages to keep your first few visits to Earth a secret, but it doesn't take much more for the others to meet you, especially after they had to help chase Lockdown off from trying to take you in

He doesn't have much of an ego, but he does like seeing the younger bots fawn over how cool his s/o is

And hearing them talk about how everyone fears you, well, it makes him feel just a bit more certain that you can protect yourself and that he shouldn't worry as much as he does

Author's Note - I have actually been rewatching all of Animated so, perfect timing! Blitzwing forever tho <3

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Potential script idea for billy batson s radio show segment

The whizz radio intro tones-

Billy Batson then starts speaking through a slightly crackly radio as Fawcett is a city someone lost to time, given its connection to the Rock of Eternity.

---

Welcome to WHIZZ Radio: where we give the latest news, truths, and view in Fawcett City. Brought to you by your host, me, billy Batson.

Starting off with community news, make sure to visit the shrine of Atlas sometime this week with an offering. Cap mentioned that there might be a need for endurance next week, and we should all probably listen. Additional reminder, the festival of Zeus will be happening this Saturday. Stay away from odd looking geese, metal poles and don't fulfill any selfcrearting proficies in a fit of hubris.

Onto traffic!

Main Street and Fifth Avenue are both still under construction from Dr. Sivannas attack and the demon portal last Thursday and Friday. Ms. Marvel and Cap. both played a role in clearing the debris, but there are still major cracks and fissures to Hades. Expect delays.

Now the weather.

Today's forecast includes thick over cast clouds; a good time for summoning souls. Be sure to greet both the living in the dead while going about your day and don't for get that umbrella! There is a slight chance of curses with intermittent showers.

Alright! Time to quickly cover the Capes and Crooks news bulletin. Dr. Sivanna is still missing after his recent bout with Cap. Since he interrupted one of Mercury's races down at the track, no one is quite sure when the Roman god took him. If you happen to see him, please be sure to give Cap a ring to come pick him up.

Keep your eyes peeled for Mr. Mind. The worm escaped prison… again. Holy moly. You'd think they'd make better prisons for him. What is this, the fourth time in two weeks?

*Noise indistinct*

I know, I just figured that out listeners would likely have the same comment. I don't see why I shouldn't point it out of its true

*Indistinct noise again*

Alright! Fine. Moving on from that.

Today's radio broadcast is brought to you by Saturn's candy. Nothing so sweet as a stick of magic you can eat! Try their Caramel cookie candy bars, now with cooked in bloodline curse protect. If your looking for a spot of luck, try their cinnamon apply candy sticks. Saturn's candy. A proud sponsor of WHIZZ Radio!

*Little jingle*

Welcome back to the program. Time for our sister citys segment.

This reporter has just been told by his producers to issue an apology to Black Adam for statements said during this segment of yesterday's broadcast.

*An aside*

Do I have too?

*Indistinct noise*

Fine.

I am. Sorry. For calling you a craized up old fart with too much free time.

There.

Moving on!

Kahndaq currently is continuing negotiations with both the Justice League and the UN to gain a seat at the UN table. Or be allowed in the UN room. While Fawcett recognizes Kahndaq as sovereign, the rest of the world stills sees the country as illegitimate.

Aside from tense meetings, and Black Adam being a kook who keeps coming to mess with Cap due to having a grudge unbecoming of a literal king and ancient man child, Kahndaq is doing fine. The economy is flourishing, despite limited imports and exports due to sanctions. The letters sent by Fawcetts finest and kindest citizens were well received and we should hear back soon if Mercury has anything to do with it.

It's time once again for Billy's opinion of the day.

This week!

Cans and their many used.

Not only do cans offer one of the best ways to have long term storable food, but they also make awesome weapons! We got to see this on Friday when Marvel Jr. and Captain Marvel went toe to toe with demons using a barrage of cans. And the food was still good to eat after the fight!! I love it when things are multi purposed. Now if only they could close the rifts down to Hades…

*Chimes*

Oh! Mercury just dropped a fresh bit of mail! Thank you Mercury! Watch out for old men wandering around. It seems like the Greek and Roman gods are looking to bless and curse some folks today.

Do good, and good will follow.

And keep an eye on the sky for lightning!

This has been Billy Batson, signing off!

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Six

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: 1 chapter left to gooooooo!

Masterlist: Here

The next few days blurred together as the courtroom became a battleground. The air was thick with tension, the walls seemingly closing in around you as each new revelation about Ward Cameron was brought to light. The stakes were higher than they had ever been before. The pressure to win, to protect Willa, pressed down on you like an invisible weight, and the only thing that kept you grounded was the unwavering support from Rafe by your side.

Each morning you walked into the courthouse, the same grim faces of the Cameron family greeted you. Ward was there, his presence looming over the proceedings like a dark cloud. His smugness hadn't faltered, and even though he was under intense scrutiny, he still acted like he was above it all. He never once looked at you or Rafe directly—only ever speaking to his lawyers in low, controlled tones, as though his guilt was something he could keep hidden.

But it wouldn’t last.

Today, you were ready. You had no intention of backing down. You had the truth on your side, and that was something Ward could never escape.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The courtroom was packed as usual, and you sat in your chair, feeling the weight of all eyes on you. Rafe, though his jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed with focus, sat beside you. The final moments of this battle were drawing near, and today was the day you hoped would shift everything in your favor.

Ward’s lawyer had spent the last few hours trying to discredit the evidence you’d found in the attic—claiming it was old, irrelevant, that it had nothing to do with Willa’s future. But the judge had seen through those arguments, and as you waited for the next moment to arrive, your heart beat steadily in your chest.

Rafe’s lawyer stood, clearing his throat as he prepared to present the final piece of evidence. A stack of photographs, medical reports, and those damning letters Sarah had written in secret. Rafe held your hand under the table, a gesture so small yet filled with so much meaning. You squeezed his hand in return, a silent promise to him that you would do your part.

“Your Honor,” Rafe’s lawyer began, “we’ve gathered new evidence that clearly shows the abusive history of Mr. Ward Cameron. This evidence is not just hearsay—it is documented, it is real, and it is a direct reflection of the environment in which Rafe and his sister, Sarah, were forced to grow up. These letters, these photos, they paint a portrait of emotional and physical abuse, a history that has haunted the Cameron family for years.”

The lawyer presented each piece, and the courtroom fell into a tense silence. You could feel Ward’s gaze burning into you, but you refused to look back. This was it. You were done being intimidated.

When the lawyer finished, the judge nodded, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—a flicker of doubt now cast on Ward’s credibility.

And then, it was your turn.

You stood up from your seat, your legs shaking but your resolve as solid as ever. You walked to the stand, the weight of the moment sinking in. You could feel the tension rising, the murmurs in the courtroom fading as all eyes turned to you. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and then you spoke.

“Your Honor, I know you’ve heard a lot of things about Rafe Cameron in this courtroom,” you began, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside. “I know what people say about him. That he’s angry, that he’s dangerous, that he’s just another spoiled rich kid who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. But that’s not who he is. And that’s not the person he’s been to Willa.”

Your eyes searched for Rafe in the crowd, and when you found him, there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place—a mixture of vulnerability and strength that you hadn’t seen before.

“I’ve known Rafe for a long time. And yes, he has a past—one that’s been shaped by a father who made him believe that love was something earned, not something given. But that’s not the Rafe I’ve seen over the past few months. The man who sits here today is a man who has stepped up for his niece, a man who, despite his own hurt, has taken responsibility for her, for them. And I’ve seen him with Willa. I’ve seen how he cares for her.”

You turned slightly to look at Rafe again, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite put into words. You had seen him grow into a man who loved fiercely and without hesitation. A man who would never, ever let someone like Ward tear apart what he was trying to build.

“I’ve seen him comfort her when she’s scared. I’ve seen him stay up all night with her when she’s sick. I’ve seen him put aside his own pain to make sure she’s okay. He’s been there for her in ways that no one ever was for him. He’s been a better father figure than Ward Cameron could ever be.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you forced them back. You weren’t going to break now—not in front of the court, not when you were so close.

“You want to know the truth?” you continued, your voice rising with emotion. “The truth is, Rafe Cameron is one of the most caring people I know. And he has done everything in his power to make sure that Willa grows up with love, safety, and stability. He is not like his father. And he is not the man they say he is.”

You paused, your chest tightening, but you pushed forward. “I’m not just here to testify for Rafe. I’m here to testify for Willa. She deserves a childhood full of love and protection. And I promise you, Your Honor, that is what Rafe will give her. I’ll give her too. We will do this together.”

The courtroom was silent when you finished, the weight of your words hanging in the air. You could hear the sharp intake of breath from those who had been skeptical of your testimony. Even Ward seemed taken aback, his smug expression faltering just for a moment.

You sat back down, trying to steady your breath, your hands trembling. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long time, you felt hope.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After a long deliberation, the judge returned to the bench. You could feel Rafe’s tension beside you, his hand gripping yours as he waited for the decision.

The room held its breath as the judge spoke, his voice calm but firm. “After reviewing all the evidence, including the newly presented documentation of Mr. Ward Cameron’s abusive behavior and the heartfelt testimony regarding the current guardianship situation, this court finds that the best interest of Willa Routledge lies with her current guardians—Rafe and [Y/N]. The court hereby grants full custody to the guardians of the child, effective immediately.”

For a moment, you couldn’t process what you had just heard. And then it hit you, crashing through you like a wave. You had won.

Rafe, who had been so stoic, looked at you in disbelief. His grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, all the pain, all the struggle, all the long nights of worry faded into the background. You had done it. Willa was safe.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Rafe. You had fought together—and now, for the first time since Sarah and John B. had passed, you both had a reason to believe in the future again.

Rafe squeezed your hand, his voice thick with emotion. “We did it. We really did it.”

And as the gavel came down, sealing the decision, you finally allowed yourself to breathe again.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The courtroom was still buzzing with the aftermath of the judge’s ruling. The gavel had just come down, the words of victory still echoing in your ears. Willa was finally safe, and you had won—together. You and Rafe exchanged a look, one that held a mix of disbelief and relief. There were no more battles to fight. The war was over, and you had come out on top.

But just as you thought you could breathe again, the door to the courtroom swung open with a heavy slam. Ward Cameron.

His face was a mask of rage, his eyes burning with fury as he stormed toward the front. The room fell silent, the tension thickening again as people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. You knew this wasn’t over. Ward wasn’t the type to let go of a loss easily.

“You think you’ve won?” Ward spat, his voice dripping with venom. His eyes locked on Rafe, and for a moment, it was like the room itself shrank. His presence alone seemed to warp the air around you, making the world feel smaller. “This isn’t over, boy. I’ll make sure you never get to raise that child. You don’t deserve her. None of you do.”

Rafe stood up immediately, his jaw tightening, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re the last person who gets to tell me what I deserve,” Rafe growled, his voice low but laced with fury. The anger between them had been simmering for years, but now it was a live wire, crackling between them.

You could feel Rafe’s anger radiating beside you, but you stood quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “Rafe, it’s done. The decision is made. You’re not going to change it by causing a scene.”

Ward sneered at you, his eyes narrowing in disdain. “You think this is over, huh? You think just because you got some courtroom victory, I’m going to back off? You’re both fools. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

Before you could respond, Ward turned his eyes back to Rafe. “You’re weak. Just like your mother. Just like Sarah. Always the disappointment.” His words were sharp, like daggers aimed right at Rafe’s chest, trying to cut deep.

You could see the tension in Rafe’s posture, his muscles tensing, but before he could say anything, Ward took a step forward, getting dangerously close.

That’s when security stepped in.

“Mr. Cameron, that’s enough,” one of the officers said sternly, moving toward him with authority. “You need to leave now.”

Ward didn’t seem to care. He stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward Rafe. “I’m not finished with you. Not by a long shot.” His voice was shaking with rage.

But before he could take another step, two security guards moved in, grabbing his arms and pulling him back. Ward tried to shove them off, but they held firm, dragging him away from the front of the courtroom.

“You’ll regret this, Rafe!” Ward yelled, his voice echoing through the room as he was escorted out. “I’ll make sure of it!”

The door slammed shut behind him, and the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. But slowly, the tension began to ebb. People exchanged glances, whispered amongst themselves. There was no question now—Ward Cameron had lost. But the question remained: would he ever truly accept it?

Rafe stood there, his body rigid with anger, his fists still clenched. You could see the way his hands shook, the way his jaw clenched tighter with each breath. But he didn’t say a word. Not yet. Instead, he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he turned to face you.

You walked over to him, your heart heavy with everything that had just happened. His face was pale, his eyes distant. You reached out, touching his arm gently, but he didn’t pull away.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, knowing full well that the words didn’t do justice to the storm that was brewing inside him.

Rafe exhaled slowly, a long, tortured sound. “Yeah… I will be.” He paused, then added in a quieter voice, “I just never thought it would be this hard. To finally win… and still have him out there.”

You nodded, understanding all too well. “It won’t be easy. But we’ve got each other. And we’ve got Willa. That’s all that matters.”

Rafe looked down at the floor for a long moment, his hand running through his hair. “I hate that he still has this hold on me, on all of us,” he murmured. “I hate that even after everything, he can just show up and make me feel like I’m still that kid. Like I’m still the one who doesn’t deserve anything.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t control you anymore. He never will again. You’re not that kid anymore, Rafe. And you’ve earned the right to protect Willa. You are her family.”

Rafe didn’t look up immediately, but the words seemed to sink in. His breath was steadier now, his expression softer. Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and something deeper—something you had seen in him all along, but only now, in this moment, could you truly recognize.

“We’ll keep fighting for her,” he said, his voice firm, though still weary. “No matter what it takes.”

You nodded, knowing that together, you would face whatever came next. The fight wasn’t over. Ward might not have given up, but neither had you—or Rafe.

You turned to the door, where Willa’s social worker was waiting for you, her smile soft and reassuring. It was done. Willa was safe. And despite the lingering presence of Ward, despite the obstacles still ahead, for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could finally begin to heal.

And together, you would build the family that Sarah and John B. had wanted for her all along.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[chaoskull]

Lawrence Alma-Tadema - Ask me no more

Carelessness to Respite

Roboute Guilliman x gn!reader

Summary: Guilliman is neglecting himself, as his spouse, you cannot let this keep happening further more.

This is for you Guilliman addicts, ENJOY!

Guilliman had been stuck on his office for far too long, reviewing reports, ordering resources, and writing his signature. It had become a default movement for his hand, to glide a pen through paper drawing his name for hours.

"You've been at this table for how long?" Your question was left unanswered, as his focus was entirely on the words in front of his eyes. You clear your throat, the sound disrupting his concentration.

"Don't you want something to eat or drink?"

He waits a second to see if you're merely trying to stop him from his work. "If it isn't too much to ask, I could accept a beverage."

There was a gleam in his eye, one visible at times he felt true enjoyment, you were surely the only able to find. It is rare to see it, ever since he had awoken from his wound, the arduous task of keeping the imperium together had left him exhausted.

Leaning over his shoulder, you take a look at his desk. A sea of documents, you recognise a few names, mostly Sicarus, probably complaining. "That's a lot of papers, my husband"

He let out a deep, tired sigh. You were concerned over his well being, there had been a time where he was far more attentive to his health.

"I'll be back, and you had enough recaff for today" You say as leave him with a kiss to his forehead. He gave you a tired but appreciative gaze as you left, slowly drifting back to the pile of papers and reports, turning his attention back to work.

When you returned, he was still reading through the paperwork. "I wonder when you will take a break" you comment as you place a glass of wine and plate, it had a much bigger sized loaf of bread with sweets to accompany, on his desk.

"Thank you, my love. But I'm afraid I still have a lot of work that needs done." He takes the glass to take a sip and pulls the plate out of his way.

"No, first you eat" You insist, ordering him to stop his irresponsible behavior, snatching the pen he held in his hand and placing it on a holder.

"And what will you do if I don't?" He challenges you, amused by actions, he lets you continue this scene, waiting for a comeback.

"Something you won't like, now eat" I push the plate closer to him. He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head, he ran a hand through his eyes to remove some of his fatigue, you were right, he felt terrible inside, so he obliges. "If that is how it is, I'll eat"

He reaches out and picks up the glass of wine again, taking a long drink. Grabbing a slice of bread, he took a bite. Slowly he starts to feel more relaxed, enjoying the small halt from his work.

You sat beside him, on the armrest of his chair, if not you wouldn't be able to get so close to his height, you had watched him finish his entire meal, not letting him neglect himself, as he had for so long.

"I hope you know I won't leave your side ever again" You whisper near his ear, he was done eating by the time you said it, and so this time, as he looked at you, a smile formed in his lips.

Content with the primarchs reaction, you catch him slightly off guard bringing in an embrace. He holds you with as much enthusiasm, as he deflates himself, his head falling into your shoulder.

The day had ended and you were still helping him finish his reports, you had to usually beg him to do so, but this time it wasn't needed.

Surprisingly, no one had come into his office that afternoon to end the moment of you two together.

It's a short little thing, but I hope you liked it!

[yridenergyridenergy]

Live report - Tour24 Who Is This Hell For? 2024/11/21 at Zepp Sapporo

Setlist:

Ruten no tou

AMON

Hageshisa to, kono mune no naka de karamitsuita shakunetsu no yami

Keigaku no yoku

Magayasou

Celebrate Empty Howls

Mitsu to tsuba

DIABOLOS

VINUSHKA

OBSCURE

Ochita koto no aru sora

The Inferno

-encore-

The Devil In Me

Values of Madness

Uroko

Eddie

My thoughts overall today are:

- so many echoes of Kyo's voice!

- This took me back to the first few times I saw Dir en grey live, in Canada, and the first times in Japan too. Times that were easier, where I was doing fine. The last time I saw them in Sapporo, in 2019, was also literally the beginning of this somewhat debilitating medical condition, caused by my own mistake. Therefore, this whole setlist, the songs and their meaning, conveyed a lot for me in this instance.

Shinya walked on stage dressed in all white. For some reason, it seemed like it was the first time that I could see him properly at his drum set. He was a literal prince! He looked so majestic, so strong. Magayasou especially was HIS time to shine! His drumming is so disorganized, and there was almost rancour and disdain behind one of his side hits during one of the songs, like if anybody had been standing there, they would have been utterly knocked out before they could blink. Also, regarding Shinya, Die tried to interact, but it seemed like Toshiya was the one who was successful in catching Shinya's glance, unless Shinya would have looked that way whether Toshiya was standing there or not hah. And it seemed to me like Shinya was truly peering at us from time to time, which I'd somehow never noticed.

Die was wearing some kind of light black tunic on top of a black tank top whose collar was very low, and he had leather short shorts on top of tights with a swirly design.

Regarding Die, the verdict is clear: he mouths total nonsense hahah. It really isn't the lyrics most of the time. He's just pumping us up by gaping his mouth a few times. He smiled so much throughout the show. I can't remember which song it was, but when it ended, he looked so ecstatic and proud, it reminded me of a high school girl finishing the performance of her life! I think that image stems from how young and happy he looked hah. His long hair kept getting stuck on his guitars.

Toshiya wore a black satin outfit with loooong panels below the sleeves. He had not only his thighs but his shoulders bare too. He had at least some lipstick, from what I remember. Toshiya was totally dramatic and expressive, like we know him to be hah.

Kaoru always impresses me by how he doesn't appear to sweat, and yet he wears the most layers in the band! He had the entire emperor look, baggy pants tucked into high boots, kind of like a horse rider, and the white dress shirt, cape, etc. He had makeup to accentuate his temples, as well as a bit of lining around his eyes, I think?

Kyo came on stage last of course, wearing all black. T-shirt tucked into clean black straight pants, black ribbed socks and shiny black work shoes. No makeup whatsoever. His hair was maybe an inch long. The tattoo next to his right eye is really visible, but this time I was on the kamite side, so I couldn't observe it much. And yeah, he has filled up the space below his jaw to outline his face. It looks like random lines: what pops up is a circular space left almost blank in the centre of his throat like to indicate where to do a tracheotomy, one line left blank on the sides, his Damned tattoo, and the two melded faces on the right side of his neck. If "Truth" is still written below his chin, it's barely distinguishable. Kyo's barbed wire tattoo sticks out a lot from his hairline at the top, despite the length of his hair right now.

It seemed like Kyo got really into the songs mostly at Diabolos. He also peeked at his lyrics memo sheets a lot, not that I blame him.

Ruten no tou was really cool. After "Sora yo", Kyo's voice is doubled in canon echoes, until the part where, in the studio recording, he does a light-pitched sigh, but in this live performance, it was merely an exhale.

The audience would have left Ruten no tou to end and transition into the next song in silence if I hadn't initiated a cheer, which happened a couple of other times. The only moment where we did let the band transition in silence was after Keigaku no yoku, because it would have been super inappropriate to cheer after he ended the song in: "Ore wa sakebu... HAYAKU SHINEEE!!" He ad-libbed Keigaku no yoku for at least the first half. No real clue what he said, it sounded like he was murmuring with the mic too close to his lips. Oh and it was awesome when they echoed Kyo's high-pitched sounds after the harder parts.

AMON was quite cool too. I don't remember anything special right now, other than that it was yet another moment where Shinya's drumming shone.

Hageshisa to, and frankly all of the other songs too, seemed to get the reaction that the band wanted. Everyone pitched in and headbanged as usual. Kyo had us sing a few parts and he did the traditional a capella: "Dive, like hell, and desTROY". Toshiya did his spins with very wide and dramatic movements, but it was clearly because there was no other way to avoid his super long sleeve fabric from interfering with him playing the bass hah.

Magayasou, I literally paid attention mostly to Shinya because of how badass his drumming is in that song. I just remember that I've definitely seen Kyo way more involved in that song in the past, but not now.

Oh, I don't recall which song exactly it was in the first few, but it was funny seeing Kaoru and Die hurry back from the edge of the stage to their mics whenever they realized that: "Oops, I've got backup vocals in 3, 2, 1..." Toshiya almost seemed to follow Kaoru with his stare when it happened like Kaoru snapped out of a trance.

During Celebrate Empty Howls, it feels like the performance was even more energetic from Kyo and the others when I last saw it in an assigned-seat hall. Either way, it involved Toshiya, Die and Kaoru coming to the front to tease us, switching sides once in a while. Toshiya's always all smiles, while Kaoru at most winks stoically hah.

The second pause happened between Celebrate Empty Howls and Mitsu to Tsuba, which felt kind of awkward. Overall, I felt like adding one or two Inward Screams would have livened up Kyo's performance slightly, or at least greatly changed it and the atmosphere of the songs.

Mitsu to Tsuba is mostly Die's time to shine. He knows the effect he has on us and he likes all the distortions he can get out of his guitar.

By the way, other than the SE, I actually don't recall seeing much AI-generated footage in the backdrop videos! The SE had images of a hooded stalker of sorts walking toward a bridge at night, a clown, photographs transposed in a circle to piece together probably someone supposed to be a criminal, etc. The music is a bit unmemorizable, but it had a beat that prompted us to clap to it while we waited for Shinya to show up.

Diabolos was amazing! Die was almost mocking us laughing during the segments where we headbang for three consecutive parts, which happens two other times in the song. I don't know if people seemed tired.

Kyo had us shouting "Blue Velvet" a couple of times. But the song evoked a lot in him, it showed. He was really into it.

The backdrop video of Diabolos caught my attention because it seems like when we sing about "Blue Velvet", we're... cooking a pig? There's just a charred pig head on a cut tree trunk, along with other imagery that makes it clear that the pig was cooked. An African tribesman with white lines of makeup all over his face and body is shown afterward. I'm not sure that that is ever what I would have associated with "Blue Velvet".

Oh, it was crazy, the anticipation building up to the "Saa ningen o yamero" part of this song. Kyo just shouted each line with deep breaks in between, to punch each point. Reading the official lyrics again, I'm pretty sure that Kyo completely changed the lyrics before "Saa ningen o yamero", actually, because it involved more stuff like: "You, and my self too, "

I think it might have been in Diabolos that Toshiya copied Kyo's stance with their left hand raised, leaning backward with their side facing us. It must have been during the climax line: " I raise my vacant eyes toward the sky".

Vinushka, again, I've seen Kyo more intense in this song in some live recordings, but it was nice and felt anyway. For some reason, the parallel between Kyo bringing his mic slowly toward his mouth for the "Aaaah... Vinushka" part while the background video shows the nuclear bomb approaching the viewer from above only just struck me. It's the same movement of two points slowly connecting to express impeding doom, that seems calm and quiet before the explosion.

Obscure involved a lot of headbanging, Toshiya spinning, etc. We didn't see much hah.

Ochita koto no aru sora started kind of like before Obscure finished, it took me a while to recognize the melody. Kyo had us sing some parts. I was really looking forward to witnessing this song live for the first time!

The Inferno came and I knew that it was the last song of the main setlist, which happened way too quickly! Sure, there were two long songs, but it felt way too short! Kyo wanted us to participate in the song a few times and he gestured the cut-throat at the very start and a couple of other times throughout the song, but I don't think he headbanged himself.

Kyo threw his mic backward JUST short of Shinya's drum set and walked off the stage before the song had even finished, leaving the other members to complete the last bit of the melody. Die was especially happy, he stayed behind to play moooore distortion, as long as he could, several seconds after everybody else had left the stage. His smile was wide!

The members returned for the encore rather quickly considering that Toshiya's assistant was still tuning his bass hah. Shinya had a sleeveless black shirt with the super big gold necklace in the style that he, Kaoru and Kyo have worn since The Perfume of Sins! Die has cut the sleeves from the black 27-years sweater but he was still wearing mostly the same clothes underneath. His arms are really defined, but Toshiya has totally surpassed him in muscle mass, woah. Buffest member in the band. Kaoru only took off his cape; how the hell does he not sweat! Toshiya had the grey sweater from the tour merch and his pants/boots with his thighs exposed. Kyo hadn't changed.

Although he did it once, or max twice during the main set, Kyo egged us on with "Sapporo!" several times in the encore, asking us over and over whether we could go on, become one, etc.

Oh man, The Devil In Me! I still completely disagree with the band's decision to rely heavily on backtracks, especially for the part "Jinkaku hitei o abite" which literally was recorded by the backup vocalists? What the fuck. But it's so cool and intense to watch Kyo lose it, growling, folding, swinging his mic cord up and down as he pours his self-hate. For the last minute or so of the song, he climbed on his crate, wrapped his red mic cord around his neck without theatrics, and sang with just enough length of the cord to follow his right arm as it curled toward his mouth. Otherwise, if he extended his arm too much, it would have tightened the noose. At the end of the song, while the instrumental continues for quite a while, he slowly sheds, or rather shrugs off one part of the mic cord from him. First, the noose is undone. Then, the cord draped on his left shoulder is shrugged off, which leaves just the one on his right side, which comes off while he stares almost in challenge at the horizon. Shedding a weight from his shoulders, from his existence literally, but not looking 100% relieved whatsoever.

Values of Madness has me headbanging intensely, so I'm not sure what happened, to be honest. Die was smiling, I think. Kyo stayed quiet to demand us to sing sometimes, which he seemed satisfied with. I don't know if it was in this song or another one, but Kyo was stalking his way in front of his crate when he must have stomped on his mic cord, because he stopped abruptly on his track to fix that before a real problem occurred.

In all three of the last songs, it was funny because the members would visit different sides of the stage, then went back to their spot when the song ended, but then another hyper song started and they went right back out there, repeating this dance once more for Eddie hah.

For the last song, Kyo asked us if we could go on, and he seemed taken aback by the response he got from the shimote side on the left, because he was like: "Huh? Are you alive?" So then that part of the crowd finally put their all into the cheer. Kyo turned to the kamite, and it sounded like we were way more at 100% intensity than shimote from the start. He asked us a second time anyway, and then, after a second of quiet on his part, he did his sudden a capella crescendo: "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHH" with his 'claw' rising progressively, which had us all jumping and cheering. Eddie started and Kyo asked us to sing some parts, sometimes taking off his ear monitor. It wasn't clear on his face whether he was satisfied though, so probably not.

Kyo threw one of his water bottles kind of carelessly into the crowd, letting the cap and straw disconnect and all the water spray randomly onto us. Then, he promptly left. Shinya took a long time to come down from his platform, it seemed. Toshiya and Die had already started throwing picks and water. Die did the fountain/water sprouting move from close to his chest, like we saw him do in one or two videos. Toshiya and him sprayed us so much, they seemed to take a lot of pleasure in it. All three who were left on stage threw picks for a while, and I remember Kaoru stoically waving his index at us, as though teasing or chastising us for some reason hah.

Toshiya left with a smile and a modest bow and hand wave. Kaoru also waved us goodbye after throwing everything he had. Die was last, throwing his towel far but not close to the balcony like he sometimes aims to do. He intently looks at whoever catches his towel, like it means a lot to him to watch their reaction. He was really all smiles, mouthing stuff that resembled "arigatou" to us, and then he waved at us on his final way out.

What a blast, overall! I'm probably forgetting some stuff, but less than if I tried to write this live report any other time after today. I hope they play the setlist with Phenomenon in Sendai!

Oh and at one point, I was like: "Who the hell is filming the show with their cellphone? They played the reminder of the rules so often and so clearly." But it was Fujieda filming Shinya, so I guess that's the video we're getting tomorrow hah.

[mkmas]

Jude Jazza - A story about a ruthless and arrogant man and an unfulfilled promise (JP ECB)

as usual I don’t own the story or characters, they belong to cybird. some things might’ve translated not as smoothly but i tried to get close to the original tone + eng isn’t my first language so forgive any mistakes ;-; also beware of some spoilers about his backstory

I wonder when it happened.

When my sister was still alive, she and I had a high fever.

(I was in so much pain l felt like I was dying.)

(I remember her asking me to distract her from the agony of the high fever.)

Jude: “What do you want to do when you’re rich?”

It was a playful way to forget, even for a moment, the pain of the day.

Jude’s younger sister: “Anything?”

Jude: “Sure.”

The pained look on my sister's face breaks into a little smile of joy.

Jude’s younger sister: “If that's the case, let's see… I want to go to the moon!”

My sister's eyes, which are the same amethyst color as mine, look towards the highest point in the sky. There, like a jewel dropped into the deep sea, there was a round moon floating in the jet black.

(...... Ha, the moon.)

Jude: "Idiot, even if I had that kind of money I can’t do that.”

(I've never heard of humans going to the moon.)

Jude’s younger sister: “But the Queen’s got the whole world on her palm, right?”

Jude’s younger sister: "If we can go around the world, can't we go to the moon?"

How much money does the Queen have? As I was thinking about whether it was really possible to go to the moon with that kind of money...

Jude’s younger sister: "Hey, brother, promise me. When you become rich, take me to the moon."

A human being going to the moon is a dream too ridiculous to be true. But my sister, who might die tomorrow, needed hope at this moment.

Jude: "I got it. I'll use money, magic, anything to get you there.”

Jude’s younger sister: “Brother, it's lame to think you can use magic.”

Jude: “Keep quiet.”

Jude’s younger sister: "I'm going to go to the moon. I have to get well soon."

Jude: “That's right. We have to get you better."

Only when I was with my sister, I felt something like the outline of happiness. Every time her small hand grasped mine, a warm feeling spread across my chest. But before the feeling of happiness could develop, I always felt sorry for her. Just when I was thinking that one day I would make my sister happy. She was bought with money, and then she died after.

And then I - I swore revenge.

By the time I started my trading company upon graduating from public school, I had the noblemen who killed my sister completely by the scruff of the neck.

Even though they were already busy dealing with taxes, it piled up even more with debt.

-- After their mansion and land were all seized, I went to meet the people who bought my sister.

Jude: “Thank you very much for your time.”

Nobleman: "W-what are you? W-Wa...!"

I grabbed the hair of the most pompous looking nobleman sitting in the chair as hard as I can.

Jude: “You guys are the ones who buy poor children and make them do bad things."

Jude: “There's no point in trying to make excuses. Everything can be backed up."

The nobleman’s eyes widen as I flung the report that contains numerous misdeeds I’ve already investigated.

I dragged him down and stamped on his head as hard as I can with my shoe.

Jude: "Confess. A few years ago, you bought a kid with asthma from a longshoreman."

Nobleman: “Well that’s… Uh.”

Jude: “Confess…!”

No matter how much I hurt them, the noblemen didn't speak.

Then I realized.

They really don’t remember.

When I threatened the servant, he trembled and spilled everything.

Servant: “I buried so many people in the garden that I can't remember who's who…”

When I headed for the garden of the beautiful mansion, I found that only one corner had been dug up in an unnatural manner.

Jude: “…….”

-- So so many. I sit in front of one of the piles and gently touched it with my fingertips.

Jude: “Brother is here... Answer me.”

I didn’t hear anything.

I didn’t even know if she was here.

All I know is that it was already too late.

So then I introduced the nobles to my father and brother, who were still working at the port, sipping muddy water.

(Isn't it great to do hard physical labor with the person you sold your daughter to?)

I had my subordinates watch over as they were weakened by the humiliation of the harsh labor.

I did nothing, I just watched.

Soon after, the nobles, my father, and my brother were all dead.

I killed them all.

-……De.

-……Jude.

Ellis: “Jude.”

(Ellis….?)

(……Ah, I fell asleep.)

It seems that because I didn't get enough sleep, I passed out while sitting.

(--- Even if it's)

Ellis: “What kind of dream was it?”

Jude: “Hah?”

Ellis: “You sounded like you had a nightmare.”**

Jude: “It was a shitty dream.”

Ellis: “I see. Jude is unhappy even in his dreams.”

Jude: “Shut up dumbass.”

Ellis smiles and looks somewhere else.

When I followed Ellis' line of sight, I saw a full moon floating there.

Ellis: "I guess Jude won't be happy until he gets to that moon."

(I know the truth. Even if I went to that moon, I wouldn't be happy.)

My sister whom I promised to is dead.

I can't take her to the moon.

The crazy dream I have is a promise that will never come true.

Ellis: "Hey, Jude. Can you breathe on the moon?"

Jude: “Ah?”

Ellis: "I'm just worried if Jude dies there before I can kill him."

Jude: “You really are fucking crazy. It can’t be helped.”

Still, I only have this promise.

That's why—.

(Someday I'll go to the moon.)

**Just in case this small detail matters (not really but) he was making sounds like people usually having nightmares do. i bet he gets these nightmares often;-;**

*If anything got deleted and i didn’t notice it’s probably tumblr being weird on my ipad bc of storage ahajaj)

TN: OK wow after reading his backstories… my crack theory about jude and the moon some time ago turned out to be at least 70% right? also jude has always been pretty snarky/sarcastic haha even to his younger sister (a little) i have a loooot of thoughts on his backstory but ill dump it after finishing his route. it really is dark and horrible how the rich people bought children and just…. did all that…. i support jude torturing crazy nobles 🙂‍↕️

[levisolace]

[9] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 9: Small Steps

WC: 7,433 Chapter Warnings: none Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter

“Sir, should I make you morning tea?” 

Connie asked, his voice careful but laced with curiosity. Levi looked up from the stack of reports on his desk, his expression as unreadable as ever. Connie stood at the door, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

Levi’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t need Connie to spell it out for him; he’d already noticed you weren’t here the same time as yesterday. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms over his chest.

“No need,” Levi said curtly. 

Connie raised a brow, clearly intrigued but knowing better than to push Levi’s limits. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

As Connie disappeared out of his doorway, Levi let out a soft exhale and glanced at the empty cup on his desk. The air felt heavier than usual this morning, though he wouldn’t admit it aloud. The truth was, he was actually looking forward to your presence, as begrudging as it made him feel.

For someone so insistent on “making it up to him,” you were a bit inconsistent about showing up with a cup of hot tea in hand, ready to push through the invisible barrier between you two. His gaze lingered on the door, his mind drifting to whether you’d finally decided it wasn’t worth the effort anymore. It’s only been yesterday since your promise, did you already change your mind?

He shook the thought off quickly. It wasn’t his concern if you did. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

It wasn’t until 30 minutes later that the door to Levi’s office creaked open, and he looked up just as you stepped inside. You looked far from your usual self—your shoulders slightly hunched, dark circles under your eyes, and a weariness in your step that you couldn’t quite hide.

“Good morning,” you murmured, your voice softer than usual, as though even speaking was an effort.

Levi’s sharp eyes narrowed, scanning you for a moment longer than necessary. He noted the pale cast to your complexion and the slight tremor in your hands as you placed the tea on his desk.

“From the café you asked for yesterday,” you added, trying to muster a polite smile.

He leaned forward, his gaze flickering to the cup before returning to you. “You look like hell,” he stated bluntly, his voice carrying a mix of irritation and something softer—concern, perhaps, though he hid it well.

You blinked, startled, before letting out a short, breathy laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Levi leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Didn’t realize running late also meant showing up like you haven’t slept in weeks. What happened after yesterday?”

“It’s nothing,” you replied quickly, brushing off his question. “Just… didn’t get much sleep, that’s all.”

He studied you for a moment, clearly unconvinced. “Tch. Doesn’t matter how good the tea is if you’re falling apart while delivering it.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, standing straighter. “Really.”

Levi raised a brow, clearly skeptical, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he reached for the tea and took a careful sip. You waited, holding your breath, unsure if he’d approve.

After a moment, he set the cup down and gave you a curt nod. “It’s better.”

A flicker of relief crossed your face, though you quickly tried to hide it. “Good. I’ll remember that for next time.”

Levi glanced at you again, his gaze lingering. “Next time,” he repeated flatly, though the edge in his tone had softened. “If there’s a next time, get some sleep first.”

You handed him a small smile. “I’ll be here tomorrow, too. Same time—earlier time. Same tea.”

Levi’s brow raised at your declaration, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached for the tea again, sipping quietly. 

You lingered near the door for a moment, uncertain whether to leave as you had yesterday. But something about today felt different—or maybe you just weren’t ready to step back into your own world yet.

Instead of leaving, you took a few hesitant steps back into the office, your eyes wandering across the shelves and the framed photos lining the walls. You take your time admiring each picture like it was an art museum. 

Levi watches you from his peripheral, curious to see what you were doing. After a while, he had enough of the silence. He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a raised brow.

“Didn’t realize this was a tour.”

You shot him a small grin, your fingers grazing the edge of a sleek model of what you assumed was the Stohess street layout. “It’s impressive. You’ve come a long way.”

He didn’t immediately answer, but you caught the faintest flicker of pride in his expression. “Took years. A lot of trial and error.”

Your curiosity grew as you continued observing. “This model—was it your idea?”

“Partly,” Levi said, his tone even. “Marketing team thought it’d help investors visualize the growth potential. Turns out they were right.”

You nodded, trailing your fingers over the polished surface of his desk. “And these?” You gestured to a collection of framed photos of Stohess street—before and after shots of the transformation.

“Documentation,” he said simply, though his voice softened slightly. “Reminds me how much has changed.”

You turned back to him, meeting his gaze. “You’ve built all this… from scratch. Do you ever stop to think about it? How far you’ve come?”

Levi’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, you thought he might brush off your question. But then he shrugged, looking almost uncomfortable. “I think about it when there’s time. Doesn’t happen often.”

You leaned against the edge of his desk, tilting your head at him. “You should, you know. Give yourself credit. This is… amazing.”

Levi’s gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to stick around to tell me that,” he said, though there was no bite to his words.

“I know,” you replied, your smile softening. “But I wanted to.”

For a moment, the office was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Levi looked down at the tea you’d brought, then back up at you. Instead of commenting on your overstayed welcome, he gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.

“If you’re going to hang around, at least sit. You’re making the place look uneven.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, settling into the chair. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

You lowered yourself into the chair across from his desk, shifting to get comfortable as Levi watched you with narrowed eyes. His eyes shift to you from his laptop. “Don’t you have work to get to?”

You shook your head, offering a half-smile. “Took a sick leave today.”

Levi’s brow furrowed, his expression sharpening with concern. “You’re not feeling well?”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Just tired, that’s all. Figured I could use the day to catch my breath.”

He didn’t seem convinced. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze lingered on the faint shadows beneath your eyes. “Tch.”

You tilted your head, confused. “What now?”

“Still overworking,” he said bluntly. “You gotta let go of bad habits.”

Your smile wavered as you looked down at your hands. “I’m not… overworking. I’m just busy.”

Levi scoffed, the sound soft but sharp enough to make you glance up. “Busy? You look like you haven’t slept in days. You don’t need to work yourself into the ground to prove something.”

“I’m not proving anything,” you said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone.

“Then what are you doing?” he countered, his voice calm but firm. “Running yourself ragged for what? You can’t fix everything by burying yourself in work.”

His words hit closer to home than you wanted to admit. You shifted in your seat, feeling suddenly exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. “It’s not like that,” you said quietly, but even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow.

Levi sighed, his hand brushing against his desk as he leaned forward slightly. “Take care of yourself, or you won’t be able to take care of anything else. It’s not that complicated.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the rare softness in his voice. For a moment, you considered brushing it off, changing the subject, but the sincerity in his expression stopped you. Instead, you gave a small nod, your voice subdued. “I’ll try.”

“You’d better,” Levi muttered, reaching for the tea you’d brought. He took a sip, glancing at you over the rim of the cup. “Otherwise, I’ll be stuck telling you this every time you show up late with some overpriced drink.”

Despite yourself, a quiet laugh escaped your lips. “Noted.”

You leaned back in the chair, letting a moment of silence settle between you both before speaking up again, your voice softer this time. “Would it be alright if I stayed for a while? I promise I’ll be quiet. Just… not feeling up to being alone right now.”

Levi stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. His hand hovered over the stack of papers on his desk, as if weighing the inconvenience against the awkwardness of saying no. Finally, he let out a sigh, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“Fine,” he muttered, though the tone made it clear he wasn’t exactly thrilled. “But don’t expect me to entertain you. I’ve got work to do.”

You nodded quickly, a small smile tugging at your lips despite how tired you felt. “Thank you. I’ll stay out of your way.”

True to your word, you remained quiet, occasionally glancing around his office with a mix of curiosity and admiration. The clean, minimalistic décor suited him—everything in its place, not a single thing unnecessary. 

As you sat quietly in Levi’s office, the rhythmic scratching of his pen filled the space like a steady metronome, grounding you in the moment. He worked with a precision and intensity that was uniquely him, his focus unwavering as he sifted through documents and signed off on reports. It wasn’t just the tasks themselves that impressed you—it was the way he carried himself, the quiet command he had over every detail, every decision.

Your gaze drifted across the room, taking in the meticulous organization of his desk, the framed certificates on the wall, and the subtle but distinct logo of Stohess Stone Group etched into a plaque near the window. This wasn’t just an office—it was the culmination of years of effort, persistence, and vision.

And it was all his.

Erwin’s words from last night echoed in your mind, a haunting reminder of what you had learned. Levi had poured himself into this, not just for success, but as a way to cope. To prove something. To build something that might have brought you back. The realization hit you again, heavier this time. Everything he’d created, the street that flourished under his guidance, the empire he now managed—it was all born from a belief that he wasn’t enough for you to stay.

Your chest tightened, the weight of guilt pressing down on you. You’d spent the last few days trying to figure out how to make it up to him, but now… you weren’t sure if you even could. How do you apologize for something that shaped the course of someone’s entire life? For a wound that turned into a foundation, for better or worse?

Levi flipped a page, his expression neutral but focused, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he still resent you? Did he even want you here, in this space he’d built for himself? Or had you already overstayed whatever tentative truce the two of you had formed?

You looked down at your hands, twisting them in your lap. The guilt simmered, pulling you into a spiral of self-doubt. What could you possibly say to him that wouldn’t sound hollow? You’d already promised to make things right, but standing in the shadow of everything he’d achieved, your promise felt painfully inadequate.

The silence was too much, and before you could stop yourself, you spoke.

“Are you happy, Levi?”

The question came out softer than you intended, but it landed sharply in the quiet room. Levi didn’t even glance up, his pen pausing only briefly before continuing its steady movement across the page.

“Why are you asking me that this early in the morning?” His tone was clipped, dismissive, as if brushing it off might make it disappear entirely.

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the seat. “I just… I was wondering.”

“Wondering?” he echoed, finally looking up. His brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What kind of question is that? Especially from you.”

The way he said “you” stung, but you pressed on, unwilling to let it stop you. “All this,” you gestured vaguely around the office. “It’s… incredible, really. But I just—do you even like the person you’ve become?”

Levi stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a scoff, he looked away, his focus shifting to the window behind his desk. “Tch. What does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” you said quietly, but with enough conviction to make him glance back.

Levi sighed, rubbing a hand across his face before finally answering, his voice low. “It’s not about being happy. It’s about getting things done. Making things work.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He shot you a sharp look, but there was less bite to it this time. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I never really thought about it. Doesn’t matter anyway.”

You bit your lip, the guilt twisting tighter in your chest. You didn’t say anything after that.

Levi’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping back to the desk. “Is any of us truly happy?”

You hum, opting to offer him a slightly amused smirk. “Yeah, guess you’re right about that.”

He didn’t respond, but the quiet that followed felt heavier than before. Levi didn’t look at you again, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his pen stilled in his hand.

He was lying. And you both knew it.

“Can I lie down on your couch?”

The next question is the opposite of your odd questions this morning, still odd but humorous this time. Levi shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

For a while, the only sound was the faint scratching of Levi’s pen and the distant hum of office activity. You found the stillness oddly comforting, a reprieve from your own frantic pace. You even removed your shoes, put in your earpods, and scrolled away on your phone. But as the clock inched closer to noon, your stomach growled softly, and you shifted in your seat.

Levi didn’t look up but spoke anyway. “If you’re hungry, there’s a vending machine down the hall or I could ask Connie to get you something.” 

You hesitated, then cleared your throat. “Actually… I was wondering if you’d have lunch outside with me.”

That made him pause. He set down his pen, finally meeting your gaze with a raised brow. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a casual tone. “It’s the least I can do, since you’re letting me crash your office. Plus, I’m on sick leave, remember? I could use something decent to eat.”

Levi leaned back in his chair, regarding you with a skeptical expression. “You’re not going to ask me to eat at Stohess, are you?”

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “No, no. I’ll let you pick the place this time.”

He seemed to consider it, his gaze narrowing slightly as if searching for any hidden motive. Finally, he sighed, shrugging. “Fine. But if you don’t like it, don’t blame me.”

Relieved, you smiled. “Deal. Just… nothing too fancy. I’m trying to keep things simple today.”

Levi muttered something under his breath about being dragged into things, but you could tell he wasn’t as annoyed as he pretended to be. Instead, he picked up his phone, scrolling through a list of places he knew.

“Alright,” he said, finally standing. “Let’s get this over with. Get up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, standing as well. “You make it sound like a chore.”

“Just don’t make me regret it,” he shot back, but there was a faint softness in his tone that eased your nerves.

Levi didn’t say a word as he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, slinging it over his shoulders in one swift motion. He looked at you, his expression unreadable.

“Come on,” he said flatly, gesturing for you to follow.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Where are we going?”

“Lunch,” he replied curtly, already heading for the door.

Scrambling to keep up, you grabbed your bag and hurried after him. He didn’t wait, his pace brisk and determined as he made his way down the hallway and out of the building. You noticed how the employees subtly stepped aside as he passed, their gazes respectful, even nervous. It was a stark reminder of the person Levi had become—someone powerful, influential, and commanding in ways you hadn’t fully grasped until now.

The cold autumn air nipped at your skin as you followed Levi down the bustling street. His hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets, his gaze fixed ahead. He didn’t speak, and you didn’t dare break the silence, too preoccupied with your own thoughts.

After a short walk, Levi stopped in front of a small restaurant tucked between two larger establishments. Its unassuming exterior was decorated with warm string lights and a hand-painted sign that read The Midnight Hearth. He opened the door and stepped aside, waiting for you to enter first.

“After you,” he said, his tone clipped but not unkind.

Inside, the restaurant was cozy, with wooden beams, mismatched chairs, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. It wasn’t flashy or overly modern, but it had a charm that immediately put you at ease.

Levi led you to a table near the window and slid into the chair opposite you, picking up the menu without so much as a glance in your direction. You followed suit, unsure of what to say.

The silence stretched as you scanned the options, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him—his earlier admission, the weight of his words, the lines of stress etched into his face.

Finally, the server arrived, and Levi ordered with a familiarity that suggested he’d been here more than once. He looked at you expectantly when it was your turn, and you fumbled through your choice, your nerves suddenly making it difficult to concentrate.

When the server left, you found yourself staring out the window, the tension between you thick and unspoken. Levi broke it first.

“This place isn’t fancy,” he said, his voice low, almost defensive. “But the food’s good.”

You looked at him, surprised he was even addressing the choice. “It’s perfect,” you said honestly.

He grunted in response, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t expect me to bring you here every day.”

You smiled faintly, the corners of your mouth tugging upward despite the heaviness in your chest. “Noted.”

The food arrived quickly, and for a while, the two of you ate in silence. But it wasn’t the tense kind of silence from earlier. It felt more… comfortable, like an unspoken truce.

As you picked at your plate, you finally worked up the courage to ask, “Do you come here often?”

Levi raised an eyebrow, his fork pausing midair. “Why? Planning to stalk me now?”

You rolled your eyes, a small laugh escaping before you could stop it. “Just curious.”

He shrugged, taking another bite. “Not really. Physically, anyway. Connie gets me takeout when I ask him to.”

You nodded, your gaze drifting to the other patrons. “That makes sense. You’re a busy person.”

Levi didn’t respond, but when you glanced at him again, you thought you saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Levi set down his fork, leaning back in his chair as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. “So,” he said, his tone casual but laced with something playful, “do you plan to come pester me every day now?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “Pester you?” you repeated, feigning offense. “I wasn’t aware I was pestering you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Bringing tea, hanging around my office, asking me philosophical questions first thing in the morning—sounds like pestering to me.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms with a mock pout. “It’s called making it up to you.”

Levi’s smirk grew a fraction wider, though his eyes softened as he looked at you. “Ha,” he breathed out an amused expression, followed by a tone light but probing. “How exactly are you planning to make it up to me, anyway?”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his sharp gaze. “I… I’m still figuring that out,” you admitted, avoiding his eyes as you pushed a piece of food around on your plate. “But I’m serious about it. I want to—no, I need to make things right.”

For a moment, Levi didn’t say anything. When you glanced up, his expression had shifted, the teasing edge replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful. He rested his elbows on the table, his hands clasped loosely as he studied you.

“Well,” he said finally, his voice softer than you expected, “if you’re serious, don’t overthink it. And stop making that face.”

His words hit you harder than you anticipated, and you swallowed the lump rising in your throat. You shake your head, lightly slap your cheeks, and bring out a wide smile. “Fine,” you said.

Levi had to hold back a laugh at your actions. He looked away and gave a small nod, returning to his food without another word. But the weight of what he’d said lingered between you, unspoken but understood. 

And just like that, something heavy, but not quite all, had been lifted off your chest. 

Levi set down his glass of water and glanced at you. “How’s work?” he asked, his tone casual but carrying a hint of genuine curiosity.

You paused, surprised by the question. “It’s… fine, I guess,” you said, shrugging slightly. “Busy as always. A lot of cases coming in this month.”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Cases keeping you up at night?”

You let out a small laugh, though it lacked real humor. “Sometimes. The tougher ones tend to stick with me, you know? But that’s part of the job.”

Levi studied you for a moment before responding. “Doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the subtle concern in his voice. “It’s not like I’m the only one who overworks themselves,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Tch.” Levi’s mouth twitched in a faint smirk. “I’m better with it now.”

“That’s… good to hear,” you said softly, lowering your gaze to your plate.

In an attempt to keep the conversation going, you began to tell him about what you do on a daily basis, your new coworkers, and the boss you’re slowly warming up to—Pixis. 

“Pixis Dot?” 

A brow raises from you. “You know him?”

Levi shrugs. “A little. It’s Erwin who knows him.” 

“Oh, that makes sense,” you think out loud. It’s Erwin, of course he knows everyone in the city. 

“So, your coworkers,” Levi starts, his tone neutral as he finishes chewing. “Have they been treating you well?”

You nod, spearing a piece of your meal with your fork. “Yeah, they are, surprisingly. I thought it’d be more distantly competitive. We’re talking about lawyers here, y’know?”

Levi’s lips twitch, almost forming a smirk. “Cutthroat by nature, huh?”

“Something like that.” You chuckle softly, setting your fork down. “But they’ve been helpful—supportive, even. It’s a little shocking how decent they are.”

Levi lifts his glass of water, his gaze steady. “And that blonde-haired man you were with at the restaurant… your coworker?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Blonde-haired man?”

“The one who was with you that night at the restaurant,” Levi clarifies, his tone clipped but casual enough to mask any deeper intent.

“Oh, Nanami?” you say, realization dawning. “Yeah, he’s a coworker. Why?”

Levi shrugs, taking a sip of water. “Just curious. You seemed… comfortable with him.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Comfortable? Is that a bad thing?”

“Tch,” Levi mutters, setting his glass down. “Didn’t say it was. Just making an observation.”

You can’t help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. “Is this your way of trying to figure out if there’s something going on between us?”

His expression doesn’t waver, though his silence speaks volumes.

“There isn’t,” you continue, unable to resist teasing him a bit. “Nanami’s just a coworker and a good friend—a fellow “workaholic” they said.”

Levi’s gaze remains unreadable, but you think you catch the faintest flicker of relief in his eyes. “Good. I’d hate to hear you’ve developed a lousy taste.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “And what exactly does that mean?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead picking up his fork and resuming his meal. “Just means I hope your taste in men hasn’t gone downhill.”

The comment hangs in the air, laden with unspoken meaning. You bite your lip, unsure how to respond, so you let it pass, focusing instead on the warmth creeping into your chest.

Somehow, your heart swells that he cares about who you’ve been with or who you might be with. There’s been none that mattered, you want to tell him, not much as he did, anyway. But that’d be too much for now. 

“Someone’s been busy.”

You glance up from setting your bag down, only to find Pieck leaning casually against your office doorframe, her arms crossed and her expression entirely too amused. She raises an eyebrow at you, her grin as sly as ever.

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence as you pull out some files from your bag.

Pieck takes a slow step inside, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of your appearance. “You’ve got this glow about you lately. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been sneaking out during lunch breaks. Someone’s definitely keeping you entertained.”

You sigh, shaking your head but unable to stop the faint heat from rising to your cheeks. “Pieck, I’m not sneaking out. I’ve been… visiting a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” she teases, pulling out the chair across from your desk and plopping down in it like she owns the place. “And does this ‘friend’ have a name? Or do you just refer to him as the reason you’re suddenly so chipper these days?”

You glance at her warily. “I’m not chipper.”

Pieck lets out a dramatic gasp, leaning back in her chair. “You’re not denying it’s a him, though. Oh, this is good.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Pieck, please. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

She leans forward, resting her chin in her hand as her grin only grows wider. “So you are seeing someone.”

“No,” you protest firmly, sitting down and opening your laptop. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Hmm,” she hums, entirely unconvinced. “So, you’ve just been casually visiting this ‘friend’ during your lunch breaks, bringing them coffee, and probably making googly eyes while you’re at it?”

You give her a pointed look. “It’s not like that.”

Pieck smirks, tilting her head. “If you say so. But you should know, friendships like that usually come with a free side of unresolved feelings. Maybe even a sprinkle of heartbreak, if you’re lucky.”

Her words strike a little too close to home, and you fumble for a retort. “It’s complicated,” you finally say, hoping she’ll drop the subject.

But this is Pieck you’re dealing with. “Oh, I bet it is,” she says with a chuckle, standing up and stretching. “Don’t worry, I won’t pry—much. But if this friend of yours is the reason you’re smiling more, I say keep visiting him.”

You watch as she saunters toward the door, her laughter trailing behind her.

“And for the record,” she calls over her shoulder, “you really do have a glow. Whoever this is, they’re doing something right.”

You exhale, resting your forehead in your hand. Pieck might be too perceptive for her own good, but she isn’t entirely wrong. Something had shifted over the past week with Levi—though you’re not sure yet what it all means. You don’t know what it is but it’s helping you and your relationship with Levi. Maybe even more for you. Waking up these days feels a lot lighter than it had been for the past years. 

It’s late at night. You’re comfortably lying on your bed on a Saturday when another message came through from Levi. You’ve been texting quite frequently for the past few days. Earlier today, you told him to enjoy the party. To your surprise, he was actually doing the opposite—opting to text you throughout the night to update you on what was going on. 

It’s a disaster here. Moblit’s already passed out, Miche’s running some drinking game like it’s the Olympics. They roped Erwin in too.

You laughed softly, imagining the chaos at Moblit’s bachelor party that Levi was invited to. Another message buzzed through. 

Everyone’s drunk. Connie keeps trying to out-chug someone. It’s pathetic. 

You smiled, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Your mind raced for something lighthearted to say. Finally, you typed:

Just leave when it dwindles down. No use staying if you’re not enjoying.

The response was almost immediate.

Should I? 

You chuckle. It’s been known that Levi would just leave a party if he wanted to. A simple grace of his presence is enough for him to say that he had been to the party and that was that. And yet an idea came through your mind. You hesitated before sending your next message. It was a bold thought, one you hadn’t planned on voicing until you were typing it out.

If you want, you can just steal a few bottles and come over here.

Your heart leapt the moment you hit send. You stared at the screen, fingers tightening around the phone as you braced yourself for a dismissive reply—or worse, silence. But then, Levi’s reply popped up, short and simple as always.

Alright.

Your eyes widened. He agreed? You reread the message twice, waiting for him to backtrack, to tack on some excuse about being too tired or having responsibilities. But nothing came.

Now, it was your turn to overthink. Was this a mistake? What were you even going to say to him if he showed up? Yet, despite the nerves crawling up your spine, a strange excitement settled in your chest.

You texted back quickly.

Let me know when you’re on your way. I’ll be waiting.

Levi’s reply was almost instant.

Sure.

You set the phone down, pressing your palms to your cheeks in an effort to cool the heat that had crept there. You tell yourself that it’s just a casual visit. But you know the truth—you had crossed a line somewhere, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or the worst idea you’d ever had.

In a fit of panic, you actually squeal like a teenage girl as you run to the bathroom to fix yourself. You’re already done with your skincare for the night, ready to sleep. You were wearing a simple white shirt and pajama shorts. You pondered changing to better ones but that would make it more awkward, won’t it? Would he even notice?

A few minutes later, the knock on your door was firm but familiar. You glanced at your phone—he hadn’t texted that he was on his way, but here he was. With a deep breath, you pulled the door open and froze.

Levi stood there, a pack of beers dangling from one hand, his expression unreadable in the dim hallway light. The sight instantly took you back to college: the two of you sneaking out into the crisp night air, a six-pack in tow, finding hidden corners to share quiet moments over stolen drinks. The weight of nostalgia hit you square in the chest.

“You gonna let me in, or should I just drink these in the hallway?” Levi’s voice was dry, but there was a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Oh, right—sorry,” you stammered, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t expecting… well, this.”

He raised an eyebrow as he walked in, glancing around your apartment. “What? You’re the one that suggested it. 

You shut the door behind him and leaned against it, watching as he casually set the beers on your small kitchen counter. He seemed completely at ease, but for you, it was anything but.

“I did,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

Levi turned to you, his gaze steady. “Yeah. Just like old times, huh?”

You smiled, “yeah.”

There was a pause as the memory hung in the air between you. Those nights had been different—easier. Back then, you hadn’t carried the weight of unresolved feelings, unanswered questions, and years apart.

“Did you drink there?” you asked finally, gesturing to the beers.

Levi shrugged, pulling out two bottles and popping them open with the opener you handed him from your drawer. He handed one to you and kept the other for himself.

“A little bit,” he said simply, before taking a sip.

You stared at the bottle in your hand, the cool glass grounding you in the moment. “I didn’t think you’d actually come”

Levi leaned back against the counter, his expression unreadable again. “It won’t be weird if you don’t make it weird.”

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “No. I guess not.”

“Good.” He tilted his bottle toward you in a silent toast, and you tapped yours against his.

As you took a sip, you felt a small knot in your chest loosen. Maybe things weren’t exactly normal, but for now, they felt… okay. The rest could wait. Tonight, you’re just two friends sharing beer together.

The two of you sat on the couch, each with a bottle in hand. The dim light from the lamp in the corner gave the room a cozy, almost nostalgic glow. Levi had started recounting the chaos of Moblit’s bachelor party, his tone dry but tinged with subtle amusement.

“You should’ve seen them. Moblit thought it’d be a great idea to challenge Miche to a drinking contest,” he said, shaking his head.

You let out a laugh, already picturing the disaster. “I don’t know about Moblit’s drinking habits but I already have an idea how that went down.”

“Moblit passed out after three shots. Miche kept going just to rub it in.”

You laughed harder, covering your mouth as you tried to catch your breath. “That sounds about right. Poor Moblit, though. It’s his party.” 

“He woke up before I left,” Levi muttered, taking another sip of his beer.

The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself savoring every word. Levi wasn’t one to talk much, so when he did, it felt like you were being let into a part of him he rarely showed.

“So, what about Connie?” you asked, leaning forward. “He’s your secretary, right? I didn’t know he hung with your circle.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Connie? He’s one of Mikasa’s friends.”

“Mikasa?” you repeated, not having heard of that name in a while. She’s Levi’s distant cousin who stayed with him and Kuchel for a short while back when you weren’t even close. She would sometimes visit Levi back in college. 

“Yeah. She introduced me to Connie when I was starting out. Said he was an idiot but dependable. She wasn’t wrong.”

You grinned. “He is dependable, but an idiot? That’s harsh.”

Levi shrugged. “He’d agree. He’s good at his job, though. Took to it faster than I expected.”

“You sound like you’re proud of him,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

He scoffed but didn’t deny it. “He’s grown up. Better than most of the people I’ve had to deal with in this line of work.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, trading stories and laughter. For the first time in a long time, it felt natural—like the years apart hadn’t created an unbridgeable gap.

As Levi talked about his employees and the antics at the party, you found yourself watching him closely. The way his usually sharp features softened when he allowed himself to relax, the faint smirk that appeared whenever he found something amusing—it all reminded you of why you’d been drawn to him in the first place.

It was rare to see him like this, and you knew it. So, you tucked the memory away, a quiet reminder that maybe, just maybe, things between you weren’t as broken as you feared. On the third bottle, a slight buzz is going on in your head, your laughter turns into hazy giggles, your words slurring a little, and the distance between you and Levi is a lot less than when you first started out.

As the night wore on, you began to notice the subtle signs of exhaustion creeping over Levi. The way his words grew slower, his responses shorter. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, softened with the haze of sleep tugging at him. He rested his arm on the back of the couch, his beer bottle empty on the table between you.

“You look tired,” you said gently, looking into his eyes. You’re sitting shoulder to shoulder now so your faces were a bit close to each other. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, a ghost of his usual sarcasm in his tone. “Thanks. Always nice to hear.”

“I mean it,” you said, ignoring his quip. “You’ve had a long night, Levi. You should rest.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, shifting as if to sit up straighter, though the motion only seemed to emphasize how drained he was.

You gave him a pointed look, crossing your arms. “You don’t look fine. Stay here tonight.”

Levi blinked, the suggestion catching him off guard. “Here?”

“Yes, here,” you said firmly. 

He glanced toward the door, hesitation flickering in his eyes. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you replied quickly. “Besides, it’s late. No one’s going to hold it against you for getting some rest.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze meeting yours as if searching for any reason to argue. But instead of pushing back, he sighed, the fight leaving him.

“Fine,” he muttered, leaning back against the couch. “But don’t think I’m doing this because you’re convincing.”

You smiled, hiding your relief. “Sure, Levi. Whatever you say.”

As you got up to stretch while yawning, you caught the faintest curve of his lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell you that, at least for tonight, Levi didn’t mind staying.

“And you’re taking the bed,” you said firmly, standing with your hands on your hips as Levi gave you a flat look from the couch.

“Why? I’m fine here.” He gestured lazily at the cushions, though his tone was more annoyed than convincing.

“You’re not fine,” you argued, pointing at the couch. “This thing is terrible. I wouldn’t let my worst enemy sleep on it.”

Levi arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as if testing your claim. The faint creak of the cushions didn’t help his case. “It’s fine for one night.”

“It’s not,” you countered, crossing your arms. “You’ll wake up feeling like you got hit by a truck. Just take the bed, Levi. I’m not going to fight you on this.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” he said, his tone definitive. “That’s final.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the armrest of the couch. “You’re not kicking me out. I’ll sleep in the guest room, or on this death trap if I have to.”

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to summon patience. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn,” you shot back. “But I’m not budging on this. You’re tired, Levi. Just sleep in the damn bed.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before finally letting out a resigned breath. “Fine. But only because I don’t feel like arguing anymore.”

“Good,” you said, flashing him a triumphant smile. “I’ll grab you some fresh clothes and blanket.”

As you headed to your closet, you heard him mutter under his breath, something about “bossy” but you chose to let it slide. By the time you returned, Levi was already making his way toward your bedroom, his usual air of composure slightly softened by exhaustion.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as he passed you, his voice low but sincere.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied, watching as he disappeared into the room.

When the door clicked shut, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It felt good to take care of him for once, even if he’d grumble about it later.

An hour had passed, and you were still wide awake, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. The cushions were too thin, the springs poking through in ways that made it impossible to find a good position. Your back throbbed, and you let out a quiet groan as you rolled over again, glaring at the ceiling in frustration.

You’d insisted Levi take the bed. You were proud of that small victory—until now.

The sound of a door creaking open broke the silence, and your heart leapt into your throat. You glanced toward the hallway, half-expecting to see a shadowy figure, but instead, Levi stepped out.

He was barefoot, wearing your shirt and the pair of sweatpants that you assumed run in his size. His hair was a little messier than usual. He rubbed at his neck, his expression a mix of exhaustion and mild irritation.

“Why the hell are you groaning like an old man?” he asked, his voice low but carrying clearly in the quiet of the apartment.

You sat up, wincing as the movement sent another twinge through your back. “I wasn’t groaning,” you lied, trying to sound casual. “Just… adjusting.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway. “Adjusting to dying on that piece of crap?”

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “Go back to bed.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he sighed, his voice softening as he said, “You’re clearly not sleeping.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted again, though the wince that followed betrayed you.

Levi watched you for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in your obvious discomfort. Then, without a word, he walked over and stood beside the couch, staring down at you with that same unreadable expression he always wore.

“Get up,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Get up,” he repeated, gesturing toward the bedroom. “You’re not sleeping here.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “Levi, I told you—”

“And I’m telling you to stop being stupid and just lay down beside me,” he cut in, his tone firm but not unkind. “There’s plenty of space, and I’d rather not hear you groaning like a dying cat all night.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at his bluntness. “I—”

“Don’t argue,” he interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re already making this awkward. Just take the bed.”

You hesitated, your pride battling against the undeniable relief the offer promised. But the way he was looking at you—exasperated but sincere—finally tipped the scales.

“Fine,” you muttered, throwing off the thin blanket you’d been using.

Levi stepped back, giving you space as you stood up. He didn’t say anything as you followed him to the bedroom, and you weren’t sure if that made the situation better or worse.

When you both lay down, the silence stretched out, awkward but strangely comforting. The bed was warm, the mattress soft, and for the first time that night, your back stopped aching.

“Thanks,” you mumbled after a moment, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.

“Just go to sleep,” Levi replied, turning onto his side.

Despite his words, there was something in his tone—soft, almost gentle—that made you smile faintly as you closed your eyes. For the first time in hours, sleep came easily. Maybe it was the alcohol… or maybe it was the pair of arms that wrapped around your waist that pulled your back flushed to his warm chest later that night.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs, asks, and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[nerdasaurus1200]

A little fix it fic cause the Zaun family deserved a better ending. Also, I just realized, this is my first Arcane fanfic, so I hope y’all like it!

Not Over Yet

“Is that singing I hear?” Caitlyn’s voice pulled Vi away from the fire for a moment. Despite the teasing smile, she still tried to covertly look at the plate on the table beside her partner. The sandwich was half eaten this time. That was at least some progress.

“Oh, yeah. It’s just this..silly little song my mom used to sing to me and Jinx when we were little.” Vi laughed under her breath. It was still a little strange calling her sister that.

“Before she…you know.” Vi looked back at the fire and shrugged, and she could see Caitlyn nodding slightly. The fire was a welcome distraction, but it still put her on edge. It reminded her too much of Vander dy-…of the accident. She swore she could see all their faces in the flames if she looked hard enough. All those she lost…or maybe she was just starting to see things too. Was this how Jinx felt all those years? That weird sense of…of emptiness while never being alone? Like some ghost was always watching over her shoulder?

Well, it wasn’t like she could ask her now.

“How did the service go?” Caitlyn wrapped an arm around Vi and leaned her head on her shoulder.

“Alright.” Vi shrugged again, unable to pull her face away from the flames, “I don’t know how I didn’t break down by the time it was my turn to get up there and spew sappy shit.”

Caitlyn chuckled, a dry and bittersweet sound.

“I think little man’s taking it pretty hard. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.” Vi recalled.

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed for a moment as she took in Vi’s words, trying to think of anything that would provide some comfort, “…I think Ekko just needs a bit of time. We all grieve in different ways.”

“Oh yeah, cupcake, some people go crazy, and other people decide to play dictator and declare martial law.” Vi remarked with a playful glare. Caitlyn huffed affectionately and flicked a strand of Vi’s hair, which in turn made Vi chuckle.

But then as soon as the happiness came, it vanished. It was so hard to be happy these days, with all that had happened.

“Have, uh…have the reports come back yet?” Vi asked cautiously.

Caitlyn’s eyes softened in sadness as she leaned forward to kiss Vi’s cheek, “Still no signs of any remains in the Hexgates. Only the bomb shrapnels we were able to initially recover.”

Vi’s jaw clenched ever so slightly and her eyes hardened for a moment. Damn it all, three times and they still couldn’t find any sign of her family??? Weren’t Enforcers supposed to be good at sticking their nose in stuff like this?

“However, I was looking at the schematics of the Hexgates, and…” Caitlyn let herself trail off as she dropped a piece of paper into Vi’s lap.

Vi’s eyes narrowed as she looked it over, some of it made sense but some of it was just nonsense, “Cupcake, what the hell is this?”

“If you and I know anything about your sister, it’s that she’s always two steps ahead.” Caitlyn pointed out, “The Hexgates have plenty of air ducts that she could’ve used as an escape route and we’d be nonethewiser.”

Vi’s eyes widened as Caitlyn’s implication hung in the air. So Jinx and Vander could be…her family really could be…

“If she’s alive she’ll turn up sooner or later. But we have a lot of work to do until that happens. For Piltover and for Zaun.” Caitlyn spoke softly, a gentle determination in her voice. Vi was helpless to the smirk that appeared on one side of her mouth. There she was, there was the Cupcake she knew.

“…Are you still in this fight, Violet?” Caitlyn couldn’t help but ask. At her question, a fond huff escaped Vi. She turned to look at her partner with a smile as she interlaced their fingers together.

“I am the dirt under your nails, cupcake.” She declared, “Nothing’s gonna clean me out.”

Caitlyn’s eyes sparkled with love, and then she smirked playfully, “That’s Sheriff Cupcake you you, creampuff.”

The couple shared another laugh as their forehead gently pressed together. For a moment, the world fell away…it was just them.

“…could you teach me that song?” Caitlyn asked.

Vi blinked in surprise, and then nodded, “Yeah sure.”

Then she began to sing, “Dear friend, across the river…my hands…are cold and bare…”

~~~~

“Dear friend, across the river, I’ll take…what you can spare…”

Jinx alternated between humming and singing as she steered the airship, just staring out at the horizon before her. She wasn’t even sure how far away from Piltover they were now.

A familiar little shove pulled her attention away however.

“Heyy, do not distract the driver.” Jinx scolded, though her tone betrayed that she wasn’t actually that serious. Not that she ever was.

Janna above, Jinx was more grateful than ever for that mischievous that little smile now. If Ekko hadn’t saved Isha, then, well…

Jinx thought it best not to dwell on that. Or else Mylo might start up again and the last thing she needed was his smart mouth. Either way, she owed Ekko a solid for it. And of course, for helping her steal an airship.

Isha giggled and hugged Jinx, but still made a bit of a stink face as she saw Jinx’s hair.

“What, you don’t like my new haircut?” Jinx teased, and rolled her eyes fondly when Isha shook her head.

“Ah, you’re just mad cause you can’t play jumprope with my braids for a while.” Jinx reached out and gently pushed Isha’s helmet to cover her eyes for a moment. Isha giggled again as she pushed her helmet back up. Jinx stepped back and let Isha take the wheel.

“Sooo, what next Fishbones?” Jinx pulled her shark rocket launcher out.

“We’ll do our laundry, wash the dishes, pay some bills, and get Isha into a good school!” Fishbones ‘spoke’ sounding rather excited about such mundane activities. Isha looked excited too as she steered, while Jinx looked incredibly annoyed.

“Stupid dumb rocket launcher.” She muttered, giving Fishbones a firm smack. At the sound, a rough old growl was heard a few feet away. Neither Jinx nor Isha flinched, they were used to that sound by now.

“Hey, don’t worry, Vander.” Jinx set the rocket launched down and sat beside her adopted father, “We’ll find another way. We always do. In the meantime, Vi can relax a little playing housewife to the Hat Lady.”

Isha pulled a lever near the steering wheel of the airship and moved over to sit next to Jinx and Vander. After she was settled all snug and cozy in Vander’s fur, she signed at Jinx.

“Oh, you want me to keep singing, huh? Mmmm…well alright.” Jinx agreed.

“You still haven’t mentioned where exactly you plan on going.” Silco’s voice could be heard, his hallucination lingering in the shadows by Mylo and Claggor.

Jinx smiled and shrugged in acknowledgement. She still hadn’t quite figured that part out yet. For now, the top priorities were keeping Isha safe, and getting Vander’s mind back.

This time, Jinx chose to ignore Silco for once as she sang, “We raise…no mighty towers, our homes…are built of stone, so come…across the river, and find…the world below…”

[anon-sect]

Picture source: anonymous

Danny was really getting annoyed with his supervisor. Both him and Evan applied for the same job. He was more qualified for the position, but they end up picking Evan. He later found out that Evan got the position because of a secret bribe. He was so pissed off at that. To make things worse, Evan used his position to make work almost a living hell for him. He would give him way more task than others while the slackers got even less than before. He would sometimes give him near impossible deadlines to meet, knowing that would cause him to work a lot of late nights while he was out partying and having fun. It really got to a point he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to teach Evan a lesson that would equal the same amount of torture he gave him. He had the perfect idea of how to do it.

Evan arrived at Danny's office after he refused to meet one of the near impossible deadlines. "You know I could have you fired, but I might give you a second chance." Evan spoke with a twisted grin.

Danny was waiting for to come to his office. "I have the finished report here. Just take a look." He spoke as he turned the computer screen toward Evan. He took out his phone and set up the TF Pro app out of view of Evan.

Evan looked at the computer screen and saw nothing but an empty page. He was about to ask what that was about when he saw a flash from Danny's phone. There was an instant change of view. He was in a different form and could not move or speak. He had a limited view form what his new form was. He could hear Danny close his office door. "I turned you into boots. My partner loves boots. I am going to gift you to him for a while. It will be long enough for them to hire a new more qualified supervisor." He heard Danny laughing as he was placed in shoe box and the top put on it. He was trapped in the dark as his fate was already determined without his consent.

The next time Evan saw daylight was the top was removed. He heard Danny's voice, and he was talking with another guy.

"What do you think of them, babe?" Danny asked his partner Valin. He watched as Valin took out the boots and examined them.

"They look perfect. Where did you get them?" Valin asked as he continued to examine them.

"My supervisor had bought them, but they didn't fit his feet, so he thought you might be able to make use of them." Danny answered back, knowing full well that Evan was hearing every word. He smirked at that thought.

"Tell him I appreciate this. I have been wanting knew boots to wear. And the way they fell makes me want to wear them nearly every day." Valin spoke as he hugged his partner.

Evan was mentally screaming at both of them. He didn't want to be worn on his feet every day. He didn't even want to be boots at all. He watched in horror as a dingy white socked foot entered one boot and pressed down on his insole face. He had to endure the same scene as Valin put on the other boot. Valin did a couple of stomps and began to walk around in him. The dingy white sock had a strong odor to it. He so wanted to get away from them so badly. The pressure of being walked on made his insole face experience extreme pain, nothing like he had ever felt before. Each step was pain renewed over and over.

Danny watched as Valin walked around the room in his new boots, simply enjoying how they felt on his feet. The thought that poor Evan was being walked on without a single thought from his owner made him smile. He really must be suffering under my partner's feet; he thought to himself. Serves him right, he also thought.

For a straight two weeks, Evan found himself subjected to Valin's feet every day. Valin wore him to work, out shopping and hanging out with friends and his partner. Sometimes, Valin wore clean socks and other times, it was dirty and smelly socks. After a few days, he had already developed a strong foot odor from Valin's foot sweat. Every speck of material on the inside reeked of his owner's feet. He was really sorry now how he had treated Danny at work. Experiencing the excruciating pain every day as his face was an insole and smelling like Valin's feet all the time was torture beyond measure. All he wanted now was for Danny to turn him back to normal. He promised he would be a better supervisor if he did so.

ONE MONTH AFTER TRANSFORMATION....

Danny came back home smiling and exicted. "I finally got the supervisor position that I have been filing in for the past month, babe. They finally made it permanent." He hugged Valin. He looked down to notice he was still wearing his special boots he gave him, even after a whole month.

"Congratulations, babe. You deserve it. Especially after putting up with that ass hole of a supervisor for so long." Valin spoke as they both sat down on the couch.

"You know, I have been hiding a secret from you the past thirty days." Danny spoke, rubbing his partner's legs.

"Oh and what's that?" Valin asked as rubbed around Danny's neck, looking into his eyes.

"You remember my ass hole of a supervisor and how he suddenly went missing?" Danny paused as he kissed Valin on the lips. "Well, he technically wasn't missing. I know exactly where he has been the past thirty days.' he added, smiling with glee.

"Where," Valin asked him, being curious now.

"On your feet. I turned him into a pair of new boots and gifted him to you until I got the position." Danny smiled back, looking down at his partner's boots.

Valin looked down at his boots as well. He was silent for a moment to really think about that. "Are you really serious?" He finally asked. He saw Danny nodding back in affirmation of his question. "No wonder they felt so good on my feet."

"But now that I have the position, I can change him back now." Danny spoke, but to open the TF Pro App on his phone.

"No, you will not. I like my boots; babe and I want to keep them." Valin paused, wiggling his toes in his boots. "They are the most comfortable footwear I ever owned. Besides, you gave them to me. It's my choice of what happens to them, right?" Valin tried to reason with his partner. He really wanted to keep his boots, despite knowing the truth now.

Danny thought about it. "Okay, if you want to keep the boots, I will let you." He deleted the reverse data from the app. "But you know fully about the boots, now. Yet, you still want to keep them." He added.

Valin nodded. "That doesn't matter. He is my property to do with as I pleased ever since you gave him to me." Both of them laughed at that remark.

Evan mentally cried, hearing the whole conversation. Valin had completely decided to keep him as his boots and Danny got his job. He now was nothing but a pair of boots for the rest of his life and no one was going to change that.

[changingplumbob]

CW: Moderate sim spice - Guide to content warnings

Silver: Why don't you just use one of your spells on the plates to clean them

Glenn: Ah, it doesn't really work like that. Magic isn't as straightforward as it might seem

Silver: And you don't want me to do the dishes

Glenn: Nope, you're my guest

Glenn's phone buzzes. Checking it he is happy to see a message from his grandfather reporting that he and the coven leader have found a sheltered spot for the night.

Silver: Everything alright

Glenn: Oh yeah, it's just grandfather. I do love him but I admit I'm glad he's away this weekend

Silver: Oh? And why is that

Glenn: I'm sure you can guess

Silver walks behind Glenn gently puts his hands on Glenn's hips.

Silver: I'm ancient remember. My brain is going and I have no idea what you mean

Glenn: No it isn't! You do

Silver: Oh you mean because we've been flirting

Silver's fingers begin to rhythmically tap Glenn's thigh and he feels himself getting hotter.

Glenn: Yeah. I don't think I'd be comfortable doing this if my grandfather were here

Silver: And what exactly is it we're doing

Glenn: *flustered* You know... getting closer

Silver leaned into Glenn so his chest was flush against his back and whispered in his ear.

Silver: Close like this

Glenn: Exactly

Silver: You know, I've thought of a nickname for you to

Glenn: I don't think you can top Beefcake

Silver: Oh believe me, I'm excellent at being a top

Glenn: *sighs* How is it you don't know what technology is but you know what topping is

Silver: I pay attention to what's worth knowing

Silver gently kissed Glenn's cheek, wanting to say all he was feeling inside but not wanting to scare the spellcaster away.

Glenn: Silver, are you okay

Silver felt Glenn's hand in his hair, every bit as gentle as he had been. Sighing Silver buried his face in Glenn's shoulder and Glenn returned to the last few dishes.

Silver: Seeing you... meeting you... I mean when I saw you on TV I thought you were hot but this has been so different

Glenn: *teasing* Have I not been hot

Silver: You've been even more handsome, don't worry about that. But I mean, you've been handsome on the inside to. I haven't been close to anyone in ages but you... it feels so easy to open up to you. To tell you the jumble that's happening in my brain. With you for the first time in so long I've just felt.. safe

Glenn turned around to face Silver. He didn't want to have this conversation without seeing him.

Glenn: Do you really mean it? You're not just trying to get laid

Silver: I'm sure if my only goal was to woohoo with you I could think of more seductive lines than, you make me feel safe

Glenn: Because you're old and ancient and full of knowledge huh

Silver leaned closer and Glenn felt his heart speed up.

Silver: You want to hear my nickname now

Glenn: Yeah I do

Silver: Babycakes. Because you keep making a deal out of me being so much older... and I think you'll taste pretty good to

Glenn moved his head forward until his lips met Silver's. Glenn hadn't had many kisses in his life but this one- It felt right. Silver was gentle but Glenn still felt the need to brace himself against the counter to avoid melting to the floor. Stretching his other arm around Silver he pulled him closer, not appreciating the distance between their bodies. Chuckling slyly Silver broke their kiss.

Silver: Don't pout

Glenn: You stopped

Silver: Because I wanted to ask... do you want to take this upstairs

Glenn: You mean like... to woohoo

Silver: Yeah. I'd like to but I don't want to pressure you, make you do anything you don't want to

Glenn: I want to

Silver: For me it's been... an incredibly long time since I've been with someone. I might be a bit rusty

Glenn: That's not going to put me off Beefcake

Silver: Okay. We don't need to rush anything

Glenn: Well what did you have in mind

Silver moved backwards, keeping his hand in Glenn's.

Silver: For starters we can check if I was right about that shirt looking great on your floor

Glenn beamed and turned to drag Silver up the stairs. Silver was surprised at his eagerness and almost lost his footing a couple of times despite his werewolf reflexes. In the bedroom Glenn happily removed both of their shirts and draped his arms around Silver's neck, cheekily planting a kiss on his nose.

Silver growled and lifted Glenn so he could fold his legs around him. The two kissed again and Glenn could feel the heat of Silver's skin.

Glenn: Now what

Silver: Well I was thinking...

Glenn: Tell me

Silver: I thought I could help you take your shoes off. Then I could play around with what's under your pants. Is that okay? Just using my mouth and my hands

Glenn: That sounds mindblowing but.. can I check out what you're packing first

Silver: What you wish for you'll have Babycakes

Previous ... Next

[numbuh24insane]

Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sonic's Realization

Restoration HQ

The Restoration's base hummed with quiet industry, a symphony of activity unfolding in the sprawling headquarters. Engineers tinkered with machines, repairing damaged equipment salvaged from the frontlines of battles past. Analysts poured over maps and reports, ensuring the Restoration could respond to any crisis at a moment’s notice. Volunteers bustled through the corridors, distributing supplies to be shipped to remote villages still recovering from the scars left by Eggman’s takeover.

Near the central operations hub, Tails oversaw a group of technicians calibrating a new detection system, his twin tails flicking with excitement as he explained the upgrades. In another corner, Belle hummed a song as she worked on long overdue repairs, her focus undeterred by the chatter of Jewel's logistical assistants organizing supply runs. The day was typical, steady, and predictable. Something that was becoming more and more common in this fantastical world.

Sonic leaned against a safety rail on the upper balcony overlooking the main floor, his arms crossed casually as he took in the scene. Below, a pair of members chuckled at the antics of Rough and Tumble on a monitor. The bumbling skunk duo had tried robbing a supply caravan earlier that week, only to be thwarted by Whisper and Tangle.

"You know," Sonic idly started as Amy came up behind him, "This place runs like a well-oiled machine. Kinda weird seeing it so . . . calm."

Amy smiled. "It’s what we wanted, right? To rebuild without having to fend off badniks every day."

"Yeah, I guess." He tapped a foot idly against the ground. "Just feels like it’s been too quiet. The biggest threats these days are Rough and Tumble making a mess of some random store or Clutch trying to pull off another shady deal. Hardly the kind of thing that gets my blood pumping."

"Maybe that’s a good thing," Amy said, looking at him. "We’re not supposed to need you to be the hero all the time, Sonic. The Restoration can handle the small stuff."

“And I’m here to clean up the big stuff . . . but nothing big has happened in months. I can’t even remember the last time Eggman pulled one of his ‘I’m-gonna-conquer-the-world’ stunts. Man, I just can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen, that it’s just right around the corner. If that makes sense.”

"It does," Amy admitted, her tone thoughtful. "I mean, after everything with Starfall Islands, I thought we’d have a new crisis by now. But Eggman’s been completely off the radar."

"Maybe he’s finally throwing in the towel," Sonic said, tilting his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "You know, after losing Sage . . . I think that hit him harder than he’d ever admit. She was like a daughter to him."

Amy frowned, taking in this new information. "You really think that’s enough to stop him? Eggman’s a lot of things, but giving up isn’t one of them. If anything, he’s probably using this quiet time to build something even more dangerous."

"Maybe," Sonic said, tapping his chin in thought. "Or maybe he’s finally realized there’s more to life than building giant ego-machines. I like to think losing Sage might’ve made him . . . rethink things."

Amy glanced at him, her expression softening. "You always see the best in people, even someone like Eggman. But I don’t think he’ll ever stop being Eggman. He’s always scheming, Sonic. Always."

Sonic smirked, the corner of his mouth curling as he turned to face her. "Well, if he is planning something, we’ll handle it. Like always." He tapped the rail. "But for now? I’m gonna enjoy the peace. Even if it is a bit boring."

Before Sonic and Amy could exchange another word, the lights flickered ominously across the Restoration’s base. A sharp crackle of static blared through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. The monitors scattered throughout the facility turned black for a brief moment before the familiar crimson insignia of the Eggman Empire appeared with the text ‘Please Stand by’.

The room erupted in confusion and alarm. Restoration workers scrambled to consoles, engineers fumbled with emergency protocols, and Tails bolted to the main control panel, barking orders to the tech team. Above it all, Sonic remained leaning against the rail, his grin widening.

"Well, well," He said with an amused chuckle. "Speak of the devil. Let’s see what ol’ Egg for brains has been plotting!" He could feel that surge of excitement and adventure rise up within him.

"If you are seeing this," Eggman began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “Then I am dead."

A stunned silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a raised eyebrow of genuine surprise. Amy’s eyes widened before shaking her head with disbelief.

Eggman continued, his image flickering as though the message were pre-recorded. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'Is this some sort of trick?' Let me assure you, if this message is playing, then I have shuffled off this mortal coil.”

He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before throwing his arms out in mock despair. "Tragic, isn’t it? The world has lost its greatest genius! A monumental loss for science, for civilization, for Mobius itself! But don’t mourn me too much! I’m sure my end was spectacularly dramatic!" The scientist laughed, twirling his mustache.

Eggman continued, his tone shifting to a speculative drawl. "Speaking of which, I’m curious. What could possibly have done me in? Was it one of my magnificent plans going down in flames? Did one of my creations rebel and finally catch me off guard? Or . . . " He grinned, pointing straight at the camera. ". . . did you finally do it, Sonic?" He leaned back stroking his chin as he considered the possibility,”If so, I do wonder what prompted you to do it. I had to have had a truly devilish marvel of a scheme to get you to finally cross that line.”

Eggman suddenly retracted, waving his hand dismissively. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’d never do it. No, no, no you’re too soft. Always playing hero, always keeping me alive so we can do this little dance forever. Ohohoho!”

Amy crossed her arms, annoyed.. “He’s still insufferable as always.”

Eggman wiped a tear from his eye before continuing his spiel, “But fear not Sonic, even if I’m gone you’ll still have quite the foe on your hands! Should Metal Sonic still be operational, and really, why wouldn’t he be? I built him to perfection. Then my empire is in capable hands. Metal will carry my legacy, and he will succeed where I could not. He will destroy you, Sonic. Oh yes, your days are numbered. Even now, I’m sure he’s already formulating the best way to turn you into a smoldering pile of ash! How proud I am!”

The screen glitched momentarily, then Eggman continued, his expression softening into a smug grin. “Of course, I can’t leave without a personal touch. I’ve prepared special messages for each of you. Think of them as parting gifts from beyond the grave! They should be arriving . . . oh, about now.”

As the video cut off, the Eggman Empire logo pulsed on the screens, and then, one by one, the Restoration’s systems began rebooting. Almost immediately, individual monitors across the room displayed specific names: Sonic, Belle, Amy, Tails, and others.

“He can’t be dead, can he?” Belle questioned, her wooden body rigid and eyes wide with disbelief. She was shaking, almost to the point of breaking. The poor puppet jumped as Tails placed his hand upon her back and got her to calm down.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sonic uttered out, for once he didn’t have his casual smile upon his face. The wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. One by one each of them approached a different monitor, wondering what kind of message Eggman had left for them.

Sonic leaned forward, his finger hovering over the notification bearing his name. The air around him felt heavy now, the reality of Eggman’s proclamation beginning to set in. He steadied his shaking finger and tapped the screen.

The screen lit up again, revealing a new recording of Dr. Eggman. This time, the background was less ominous. It was his usual workshop, cluttered with half-finished machines and screens displaying blueprints of his countless schemes. Eggman lounged in his oversized hover chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. That grin while still as smug as ever, seemed less performative and much more natural, as though this part was meant for Sonic and Sonic alone.

"Sonic," he began, spreading his arms grandly, "If you’re watching this, then congratulations you’ve outlived me. Bask in the glory of knowing you survived the greatest mind in history! I’m sure you’re standing there, smirking like you always do, thinking you’ve won. But let’s not get too carried away. Because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ll never really consider this a win. Not against me"

Sonic nodded, it was true. He never wanted to see Eggman die. He always dreamt that Eggman would have a change of heart, that he would re-adopt that Mr. Tinker persona and work on making the world a better place. That was what victory meant to the Blue Blur, not this.

Anything but this.

"You know, Hedgehog, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side for years, and yet . . . I can’t say I ever hated it. Not truly. Sure, you’re insufferable, cocky, and annoyingly fast, but you’ve also been . . . entertaining. From our first little dance back on South Island to our more ambitious confrontations, like, oh, I don’t know, the time I turned you into a werehog . . . Not one of my brightest moments, mind you. But the point still stands! You pushed me, Sonic. Forced me to innovate, to improve, to strive for perfection. The brutal truth is that I am glad that you foiled my plans, it made my future endeavors all the more worth it."

"But," Eggman snapped, his voice snapping back to its usual boisterousness, "Don’t let this go to your head! Even dead I’m still smarter than you in every conceivable way. GAH! If I’d had just a little more time, I would have won! Make no mistake about that!” He pounded his fist against the table before calming himself down,”I’ll admit . . . there were times I almost respected you. Almost."

Sonic let out a soft smirk, understanding that was a confession of respect from the egomaniac.

The workshop around Eggman seemed almost smaller now, the man himself quieter despite the bombast in his words. "But alas, here we are. I’m gone, and you’re still here. I know you’ll carry on, saving the day and being that insufferable do-gooder you’ve always been. And honestly?" He allowed himself a small, almost wistful smile. "The world’s better for it. If I can't take over the world, then you better ensure that no one else will!"

Sonic’s hands dropped to his sides, the faint ache of realization settling in his chest. This wasn’t just another one of Eggman’s melodramatic speeches. For the first time, the finality of it all began to sink in.

He hated this.

This was something that he couldn’t run from, that he couldn’t use his prowess to overcome. Eggman was gone . . . and that fact truly hurt the carefree blue blur.

Sage had asked him to look after Eggman. Those were her final words, for him to ensure that her father would continue to live, for them to make up their differences. And he had failed that little girl, and he had failed himself.

Eggman straightened, his expression shifting to something sterner. "But enough sentimentality! I saved the most important part of this message for last." He tapped the side of his chair, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen beside him. "Sage."

Sonic's eyes went wide as he pressed his head against the screen.

Sage was gone, why was Eggman bringing her back up?

Eggman let out a confident smirk,”I managed to save her, Sonic. I scoured the Starfall Islands and all of Cyberspace, finding the remnant parts of her code, stitching it all back together and nursing her back to health! I succeeded where you failed her!” He uttered out, pressing his finger against the camera.

“She’s alive!?” Sonic shouted out, prompting glances from other Restoration members. A soft grin emerged upon his face,”Of course she is . . . It’s Eggman after all.” He was a miracle worker, always able to do the impossible.

“I’ve already integrated her into the Eggnet. She’s protected now, there won’t be any incidents such as what happened last time, and she WILL outlast me.” Eggman guaranteed, having worked long and hard to ensure Sage’s longevity and survival.

The image on the screen pointed directly at Sonic, his gaze sharp and serious. "And here’s the kicker, since I’m gone, I need someone to look after her. Someone who understands her. Someone who . . . " He hesitated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. " . . . who can help her find her place in this world. That someone, Sonic, is you."

The weight of the words hit Sonic like a freight train. The usually confident, quick-witted hedgehog found himself at a loss.

"I know what you’re thinking," Eggman said, his smirk returning faintly. "Why would I trust you with something so precious to me? The truth is, I don’t. But you’re the best shot she’s got. You’re . . . a hero, after all. And for what it’s worth, I think Sage would have liked that."

Eggman leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of something almost human in his eyes. "So, there you have it, Sonic. My final request. My final challenge. Take care of my daughter. And try not to screw it up." He then let out a grin,”And if you do? Then I’ll find a way to rise up from the grave and get you! Oh-hohoho!”

Sonic stood there absorbing Eggman’s last request as he heard the wicked scientist laugh for one final time.

The message ended abruptly, the screen fading to black. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the Restoration felt distant, muffled. Sonic stared at the blank monitor, his chest heavy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Sonic jumped as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. His head spun around as he saw Amy looking at him, concern clear in her eyes. She ushered him over to where Tails was comforting Belle. The four of them found a nearby table, a heavy silence was practically smothering them as they sat there.

Belle shuddered.

Amy gently placed a hand on Belle's arm, her usual energy tempered with concern. "Belle . . . do you want to talk about it?"

Belle hadn’t spoken yet, her head still bowed. Belle’s hands trembled as she finally looked up, her voice quivering. "H-he called me his daughter." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her.

"He said . . ." She paused, wiping at her wooden cheek with her sleeve. "He said he never understood the value of family until Sage. But that . . . he regrets not seeing it sooner. Regrets not seeing me as his daughter while he still had the chance." Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her face, glinting like dew. "He hoped I could accept Sage as my sister. That we could . . . be a family. Even without him."

Amy moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Belle . . ."

"But he’s not my father," Belle said quickly, her voice defensive and firm, though the tears kept falling. "My father was Mr. Tinker. Not him. Not-" She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don’t know what to feel. He hurt so many people. Hurt me by becoming him again. And yet . . ." She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I still wanted to hear those words."

Sonic stood, his face unusually serious as he placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "For what it’s worth, Belle . . . Mr. Tinker was real. He was Eggman, just without all the bad stuff clouding his mind. And if that version of him could care about you, maybe that means the Eggman we knew had some of that deep down, too."

Belle’s wooden fingers tightened into fists as she looked at him. "Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted us to be . . . sisters?"

Sonic gave her a small, reassuring smile. "From what he said in my message? Yeah. I think he did. He talked about Sage too, about how much she meant to him. And I think you meant as much to him as Sage does."

Belle bowed her head, letting the tears flow.

Tails frowned as he pat her back, trying to help his friend in her grief.

"Well, I don’t know what I expected, but that message was . . . something else." He crossed his arms, his twin tails flicking behind him. "Typical Eggman, though. Started off talking about how he was the greatest genius of all time y'know, classic 'Doctor Ego', but then he said something about me being . . . what was it? 'The second-smartest mind to ever grace this world.'" He snorted, but there was a small, conflicted smile on his face.

Amy leaned forward, curious. "Wait, second-smartest? That’s a compliment coming from him!"

Sonic smirked, reaching over to ruffle Tails’ fur. "Well, you are the smartest guy I know, little bro. Took Eggman long enough to catch on."

"Yeah, but then he said, 'With me gone, I suppose you’ll finally have a chance to take the top spot. Don't mess it up, Prower. Not that you’ll ever match my heights!' Like he couldn’t resist one last dig." Tails shook his head, but the faint admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Still . . . hearing him admit that? It means a lot, I guess."

Sonic glanced over at Amy,”What about you Ames? What did Eggman say to you?”

Amy looked down at the table, her brow furrowed. “Mine wasn’t much better. He said I should stop chasing after you, Sonic.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. “‘It’s unbecoming,’ he said. And that I’m wasting my potential, that I’d be better off focusing on myself instead of clinging to someone who doesn’t share my feelings.” She huffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Then he called me ‘stubborn to a fault’ and said I’d probably ignore his advice anyway. But . . .” she hesitated, her voice softening. “He said I’m stronger than I think. That’s . . . the only nice thing he said.”

Amy sighed, “He wasn’t completely wrong, was he? Maybe I do need to focus on myself more. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”

“You’re all right to feel how you feel. Eggman’s always been full of himself, but this . . . this is something else.” Sonic rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away. “It’s weird, you know? He’s always been there, always scheming, always chasing me down with his machines. And now he’s just . . . gone?”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Eggman’s absence settling over them.

Sonic pushed off the table and stood upright, his tone shifting to something more determined. “I can’t just sit here and let this stew. I’ve got to find Sage, and I’ve got to get some answers.”

Amy stood up, worry etched on her face. “Sonic, wait. It could be a trap. Eggman’s always been two steps ahead, even when it looks like he’s lost.”

Sonic gave her a half-smile, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’ve got to get some answers. I owe it to all of us to figure out what’s going on.” Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room in a blur of blue, the air crackling in his wake.

Amy sighed heavily, crossing her arms again. “That hedgehog . . . He’ll never change.”

Tails leaned forward, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He’s Sonic after all.”

Belle wiped her face, her voice soft but resolute. “He’ll find her. He always does.” She paused, “And when he does, I’ll have my own questions for Sage. About him. About all of this.”

Eggman Land

Sonic raced through the countryside, the wind roaring in his ears, his mind churning. As he neared Eggman Land, the imposing theme park/fortress loomed over the horizon, its garish lights and towering structures stark against the twilight sky. Yet, something was off . . . there were no patrols, no badniks racing out to intercept him.

The gates were wide open, the rides whirred and the neon lights shined bright, but not a single soul in sight. It felt as though the place had been abandoned in a hurry, left on autopilot. Sonic slowed his pace, the eerie silence pressing down on him. His instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, but he pressed forward, weaving through the empty attractions until he reached the central tower.

As he entered it, he noticed the broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. Moving his gaze upwards revealed the monitors that were all destroyed, laid in ruins. One cracked monitor had Eggman upon it announcing his death in repeat. He finally turned his gaze to the center of the room and saw a man there, leaning forward at a console. He wore a black suit that was currently unkempt, shards of glass hanging loose off of the sleeves.

It was Agent Stone.

One of, if not the most loyal of Eggman’s followers.

Sonic took a step forward, glass crunching under feet. The sound alerted Stone to his presence, the man twisted around gripping a wrench as he faced the blue blur,”You!” He growled out with a rage that Sonic had never seen before. “You’re not allowed to be here! This place is sacred! A monument to the Doctor’s genius!”

Sonic gave a sheepish smile as he raised up his arms in surrender,”Woah! Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess with Eggheads stuff, I’m just here to get some answers. Such as . . . “ Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing directly in front of Stone, the wrench wrenched out of his hand. The man fell back onto his chair in surprise,”Such as what happened to Eggman.”

Stone felt his own powerlessness as he turned his head away from the Hedgehog. “He’s not dead.” His voice was full of pain,”He can’t be dead. The Doctor doesn’t die . . . he always has a plan! He is a genius! The greatest genius! D-death is something that can’t apply to him.” His voice broke,”He wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long.”

Sonic’s head tilted as he caught the last part of Stone’s grief-filled speech,”What do you mean, he wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long?” He asked.

Stone glared at the Hedgehog, but gave in as he saw the sheer concern in Sonic's eyes,” . . . Months ago, the Doctor was studying the limits of the warp topaz. It opened a portal to a whole new universe. At first, Eggman wasn’t interested in it. It was far too underdeveloped compared to our universe, that was before he caught sight of a kidnapping attempt and discovered the Koopa Kingdom.”

“Koopa Kingdom?” Sonic questioned,”Never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Stone blinked,”I just told you it was from a different universe!” He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh,”That Koopa Kingdom held a tremendous power and seemed as ambitious as the Doctor, so the Doctor decided to conquer it before it could become a threat to his own plans . . . “ Not to mention he wanted the power that Bowser held for himself. “There was a time table and plans he had to transport his whole army to this new universe, to execute Operation Catfish and then conquer it with one big battle . . . Only, I haven’t heard anything from the Doctor since he left.”

Sonic nodded, everything was beginning to fall into place here. It was like old times, Eggman finding some power that no one knew about and trying to get it for his own ends. It goes badly and now it's time for Sonic to bail him out.

He let out a smirk.

“Stone, you can transport me there, right?” Sonic asked, ready to go out and save Eggman and Sage.

Stone blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that? You’re his enemy. If anything, I should kick you out of here!”

“Think about it,” Sonic grinned. “If Eggman’s stuck in some other universe, you’re not exactly going to get a postcard from him. I’m fast enough to get in, find out what’s going on, and get back before you can even finish another cup of coffee. What have you got to lose?”

Stone turned back to the console, his fingers flying over the keys. “There’s a portal generator in the lower levels. I’ll activate it and set the coordinates to the universe that the Doctor went to.”

Sonic gave a confident grin. “Thanks, Stone. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” Stone muttered. “Just . . . bring him back.”

Sonic nodded and turned to leave, his mind racing. “Hang tight, Egghead,” he said under his breath. “I’m coming for you.” With that he disappeared into a blue blur as he sprinted downstairs and into the portal below.

KOOPA KINGDOM

The transition was instantaneous yet disorienting. For a moment, Sonic felt weightless, as if he were floating in an endless void. Then, with a sudden burst of light, he was propelled out of the portal and into a vast, vibrant landscape.

He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop atop a hill covered in bright green grass. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of flowers, reminding him of home, of Green Hill Zone.

He shot out in a burst of speed, rolling around at the speed of sound. He crossed each and every hill as he searched and searched. His leg collided with something hard and caused him to trip. He groaned as he twisted himself around and gasped. What his foot had collided with was the remnants of metal sonic. His entire lower body had been eviscerated, his upper body remained in three separate parts.

“Metal.” Sonic uttered out, expecting and hoping for the robot's eyes to light up, but there was nothing. It remained dim and Sonic felt a lump form in his throat as he questioned what could possibly hold the power to destroy Metal Sonic.

“Can’t stay here.” He reminded himself and continued forth. Each and every step he became more and more worried, as questions ran through his head. After all, he knew that Eggman would never leave Metal there, not like that.

He bounded over a Hill and became privy to a scene of utter carnage. In the distance, the Egg Dragoon was hoisted in the air, its body having a massive spike of Earth through it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eggman’s body, but breathed out a sigh as he realized that was just one of his D3COYs. His head swiveled around, going over the sea of badnik parts and seeing the disembodied head of the Death Egg Robot.

“What happened here?” Sonic muttered out, a tinge of fear in his voice. He jogged down hill, going straight towards that head . . . but stopped as he caught sight of the Egg Mobile. It was cracked, left in a derelict state.

What’s more was the fact that it was completely made out of stone.

It was over.

Sonic knew that it was over. That Eggman came here to conquer and he lost everything. After all, the Egg Mobile was always his last line of defense. It was how he always escaped and survived, not even a blackhole would destroy it. It was a safety net for the Mad Scientist, that no matter how bad things became, he could always escape it via the Egg Mobile.

But here it was.

Broken.

Just like everything else around here. From Metal Sonic to the Death Egg Robot, there was no way that Eggman survived.

Sonic sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His gaze moved up to the clouds, wishing that things could be different. Wishing that he had followed through on what Sage had asked of him at Starfall Island and that he checked up on the mad scientist.

For a long moment, Sonic said nothing. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. “So . . . this is it, huh?” Sonic said softly, as if Eggman could hear him. “Leaving without ever truly saying goodbye. You always had to make things dramatic, didn’t you?”

The silence stretched around him, the wind rustling faintly through the distant grass. Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a small, bitter chuckle. “You know, for all your evil schemes, you were never boring. I kinda liked the challenge, you always kept me on my toes.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even after all the times I trashed your plans, you never gave up. Always bouncing back, always coming up with something new . . . .”

Sonic chuckled, running a hand through his fur. “I know I give you a hard time, but I always thought . . . maybe one day, you’d change. You had it in you. I mean, look at Belle. Look at Sage. You’re capable of more than just destruction, y’know? You can create such fantastic things, I know if you put your genius into it, you could’ve made a better world. I mean, look at how much joy you created back when you were Mr. Tinker.”

He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I just . . . I wish things could’ve been different. That maybe, just once, you’d decided to fight with us instead of against us. You always said you wanted to conquer the world, but I think what you really wanted was to prove something. To yourself. To everyone.”

Sonic leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “You were the biggest pain in my butt, but . . . it was fun. The races, the battles, the smack talk, it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And, yeah, I had fun too. More than I’d ever admit out loud.”

Sonic got up to his feet, staring over at the Egg Mobile. “I’m going to look for Sage, I know you wouldn’t have put her in harm's way. I’ll find her and bring her back home. I owe it to the both of you.”

He raised up his arms and fist bumped the machine.

“Thanks for the memories, Doc.”

With that he sped away.

[ultravioart]

On a positive note, the comic for Hazard actually was interesting enough to make me look past his 'safe' for a punk character design. I'm hyped!

I did not expect overwatch to directly call out systemic ableism and classism in the story.

Kids in poverty being funneled into a military pipeline only to be spat out and cast aside as disabled vets in poverty is a very real issue in the world.

If Hazard was rich, he could have afforded prosthesis that actually fit him, ones that didn't cause him pain. Instead, only bc he could not afford better ones, the system gave him the bare minimum for survival, and instead of actually dealing with the root cause and issue they gave him pain meds. In his eyes, this was done so that the system could pay him to shut up, or face consequences. No different than what his parents went through. They wouldn't even give him the respect to tell him WHY the deadly crash that maimed him happened, nor do anything to prevent OTHERS from being hurt in the same way. The system is working as intended. The system didn't care about him, nor others. The system uses it's citizen's bodies for profit.

This panel hits so hard because visual story telling wise it says so much.

In this panel, the stray animal that saved his life is the only one who cares, as the fellow human beings he fought to keep safe as a veteran walk past him at full pace.

How in this panel, his disability is 'blocking the path' of the able bodied, his very existence a 'hindrance' to the able bodied, when the hospital path really ought to be the one taken into account for. Pushed out the door into a system that was never designed for him. Yet, anyone could be in his shoes. Anyone could become disabled, poor, or neglected. Anyone could become just another 'stray mutt' in the system.

How in this panel he is posed in a way where he has the choice to turn and 'go with the flow' of the system and follow the crowd and not look back.... or go 'against the flow' in the opposite direction of the crowd looking for other 'strays' like him left behind by this system.

Honestly props to the comic creators for even discussing systemic oppression to dorectly.

I also am incredibly interested in seeing if Sombra got her spine mods from the Phreaks or not, because it looks like similar tech in her short.

I just hope that the Phreaks are more RobinHood and 'guerilla warfare against the system to spark change', rather than purely anarchists blowing everything up bc lol. The Phreaks being anarchists would be a waste of story, just another gang that became radicalized and corrupt and causes harm and must be defeated by Overwatch. (I am only worried about this because Ramattra became radicalized and demonized for trying to prevent the extinction of omnics. Ramattra is fully in his right to physically resist omnic extinction bc omnics ARE finite and being killed. We STILL don't know what those null sector helmets are for... but for some reason Ramattra is written as emotionally hasty(???) to the point of horrible accidents happening, which makes no sense since he is a R-7000 built for war TACTICS, not an emotional human that can misremember. The way Ramattra's story is handled doesn't make sense imo, they write him as if he's a biological being.)

I hope Hazard aims for accountability and dismantling of oppressive systems, rather than having no rules at all thru anarchy (he as a child saw what no rules in small doses gave him: bad homelife, bad school life, no accountability, no fostering of the mind and well being. That's why I think making the Phreaks anarchists would be stupid to do. There are systems that CAN foster mental and physical wellbeing, cooperation is one of those systems and Hazard is pro cooperation.) He did have an "eye for an eye" against the forces that took out the Phreaks in Morocco, but to be fair Oasis is using minority report 'predictive crime ai' bs so I can't blame Hazard for wanting to hit Oasis where it hurts by stealing thier most secret tech. (Perhaps Sombra helped the Phreaks/gave them that clue since Sombra is against the eye conspiracy, and that eye conspiracy is connected to Oasis)

I also hope Hazard's character is used to discuss the discrimination disabled people face in the Overwatch world, because they really dropped the ball with Soujorn on that front. (Her book used ableism... as a metaphor for racism?!?! Awful stuff. Cyborg (life saving surgery for disabled) people canonically face discrimination in overwatch.)

Because of that, I am super interested in hearing Hazard's voice interactions for lore, I hope we get more lore on omnics and Oasis and the Sombra eye conspiracy, and I am curious about Hazard's kit and what he will bring to the table matchup wise. We will probably get more eye conspiracy lore with the release of the Morocco map tho, tbf.