#im tired of them sitting in my den

[malevolent-spirit]

does anyone want to buy my dragons? im purging my den and i ran out of room in my lair to sell them, please help

[catfishofoldin99colours]

yearning for the comfort of home

[dennisboobs]

writing a trash twins fic because your actual irl sibling is driving you up the fucking wall

[boom-butterflyeffect]

WARNING/S - smut, mentions of killing/stabbing, knife play, choking, mr.ghostface kink?, mask kink?, <3

you heard a bang as the lodge door slammed shut, instantly getting your attention as you shot up from the bed. you swore youd locked all the doors before getting into bed and the only other person with a key was josh but hed had to stay late at the smaller cabin, Jessica and Mike's "love den", as he called it. "last minute preparations, babe", he said.

slowly creeping around the corner of the bedroom door you peaked out to see.. nobody. the long hallway was completely.. empty. so you went back into the room and grabbed your boyfriends baseball bat, then made your way into the kitchen followed by the living room. once again seeing.. nothing.

hand falling to the side as you sighed to yourself. maybe you were just way too tired and imagining things, the religious watching and study of horror media finally getting to you, you thought, just before you felt two hands reach around you, grabbing your mouth to silence you and your waist to hold you against them.

you tried as hard as you could to fight them off, not even being able to see who it was that had grabbed you until you heard the familiar laugh of your boyfriend as he let go of you.

“its me, kitten!” he lifted the ghostface mask to reveal a very amused grin on his face and you shook your head at him.

“JOSH! you scared me to death!” you yelled at him, looking down at his baseball bat still in your hand.

“if i was a real intruder id definitely have had to kidnap you.” he said, using the knife he was holding to motion to your clothes. or lack of.

as youd been in bed you were literally in just a small thong and a cropped scream t shirt, how ironic. you roll your eyes, moving closer to him as his arms wrap around you and you pull the mask back down over his face.

“you look.. hot.” you told him and heard a laugh from under the mask.

“you want me to fuck you like this?” he jokes but quickly notices as your eyes change at his words. “oh you do.. you want me to put this knife against your throat and make you beg for you life, kitten?”

“josh..” you whisper out, barely being able to find your voice over the shock you were in from your boyfriends words. youd always had a thing for the ghostface character, among others, and hearing your boyfriend speaking this way was doing something to you.

his hand reaches out and grips onto your throat, pinning you against the nearest wall as he presses the knife above his hand. “what kitten?” he asks and you cant even think, never mind speak to reply to him.

“you better start talking or im gonna have to make you, and im sure you dont want that do you kitten?” he asks, moving the knife to trail down your tummy causing a whine to slip from your lips. “oh maybe you do.. hm? you like how my knife feels against your pretty skin?”

“josh please..” you whine and he laughs, shaking his head at your reaction.

“youre such a little whore. i bet you loved how you felt when you thought i was someone else hm? did it make your little pussy wet to think about me forcing this knife into your skin.. making you beg for your life?”

your breath fell from your lips in a scattered fashion as your chest rose and fell quickly. you couldnt even imagine, he couldnt even imagine, how wet you were right now, how wet he was making you. cheeks reddening as he spoke to you.

“go on kitten, b.e.g.” the knife was pointed in to your skin, pushing hard enough to draw a little blood on to it.

“please jos-please dont kill me mr ghostface, i really want to be in the sequel.. ,you can do anything you want to me,.. ill do anything.” you pleaded so desperate and you could practically feel his smirk as he pressed a leg between your aching thighs.

“i know you will but its cute of you to remind me.. now shut the fuck up and go sit on the bed.” he ordered and you quickly did as he told.

you walked back into the room and sat on your knees on the bed, facing him as he walked over to you with a smirk before pulling the mask back down. his hand palmed himself through his pants as he made his way over, your mouth almost watering at the sight.

“you wanna suck my cock?” he asks and you nod your head, already desperate to please and he chuckles. “good slut.”

he undoes his pants, leaving them around his thighs before he grabs a fistful of your hair, dragging your face to meet with his already hard dick.

“s.u.c.k. now”.

you immediately take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before your head dips lower taking in more of him.

he groans as your cheeks hollow, and you look up at him,.. well the mask.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he grunts out, pushing your head down to choke on his cock. “good fucking kitten gag on my cock.”

you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second as he continued. josh had never yet been this rough with you and you couldnt lie. you really liked it and you could tell that he did too.

he drags you off and your head up to meet his mask. "you want me to cum down your slutty little throat before i slit it open? hm is that what you want little whore?" he asks and you practically whimper.

"please mr.ghostface." you nod and he pushes you back down, you latching back onto his cock instantly.

he holds you hair again, fucking into your face due to his desperate state now. he twitches in your mouth before spilling down your throat and you swallow without hesitation.

"thank you mr.ghostface." you smile up at him in the most innocent way possible, attempting to rub your thighs together for some release.

"stand." he orders and you scramble to your feet in front of him and with no warning he rips off your top and drags down your underwear. "so fucking perfect, id be insane not to want to cut your pretty little throat wouldnt i? hm?" he asks and you nod.

"stupid slut." he laughs before pulling you to sit on his lap, his cock directly below your aching cunt.

"what do you want babe? tell me what you want." he coos, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and you sigh.

"i want to ride you.. please." you almost moan just at the thought he nods.

"go on then kitten, maybe if youre good i wont have to kill you, hm? ill keep you around as my own little toy." he questions and you dont even answer.

you quickly sink down on his cock, moaning out loudly as you finally feel him inside of you. "josh o.h m.y g.o.d." he groans, gripping at your hips and forcing you to move.

you bounce up and down as he uses a hand to grab at one of your boobs. "perfect, youre so fucking perfect." he grunts and you smile down at him, pressing a kiss to his mask. "and so so cute." his hand trails up your back to tug at your hair.

"mi..-mister im close." you moan out, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

"hold it." he spits, his nail digging into your hip as he begins to thrust up into you, helping both of you to get closer.

his free hand grabs your throat, fingers tightening around it as he fucks you both to your highs.

"go on kitten show me how much of a good girl you are cum all over my cock." he tells you and you cum immediately, your nails dragging over his all black clothed chest as you moan loudly, screaming his name over and over.

"fuck." he grunts, as he lets go of your throat letting you fall against him as the two of you come down, breathing heavily for a few minutes.

"babe.." josh asks, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and you hum, tracing patterns over his chest. "you okay?" he asks, continuing to play with your hair and you nod, exhausted.

“you never told me you into ghostface hm?” he laughs and you shrug.

“i got too many horror crushes.” you confess.

“oh yeah?"

"wait.. does beetlejuice count as horror too?" you quiz to no one really.

josh laughs.

__

idk im bored

jesus fucking christ anon.

Josh definitely would, especially around Halloween time since he has an excuse for dressing up in the costumes.

was not expecting a smut oneshot in my inbox, but i am not mad about it at all, good lord.

[cryptidclaw]

Fogtalon!

Design Notes:

pretty much just a redraw of my last design for her, only change is that she has two blind eyes caused by different things!

Character Bio:

Fogtalon

(White-eye/One-eye)

Lesbian; Molly; she/her

Age as of 1st arc's beginning: 12 cycles, 3 moons; ~65 Hyrs

Age as of 1st arc's end: 14 cycles, 1 moon; ~72 Hyrs

Title meaning: -talon = a cat who is very skilled in battle; they fight ferociously with their claws

Warrior -> Guard Charge -> Elder of Thunder Order

Mother: Harepounce

Father: Stagleap

Siblings: Specklesnap

Mate: Leopardfoot

Kits (donor: Sparrowpelt): Mousebite; Birdflight

Grandkits:  Sandstorm; Flint; Poppy

Other notable kin: Squirrelflight (grandkit); Leafpool (grandkit); Foxleap (grandkit); Icecloud (grandkit)

Character Summary:

As a kit Fogtalon contracted a horrible eye infection in one eye which left it permanently blind and cloudy. this didnt stop her from becoming one of the best warriors of the Order in her time. She even raised to the rank of Guard Charge before she retired.

Fogtalon's other eye was lost in battle but she was already close to retirement at the time so she chose to just fully retire. "Look i know I COULD still be a better warrior than most of you even if I cant see shit, but im fuckin old and tired so im retiring." - Fogtalon probably

Fogtalon had her first kit, Mousebite, with her good friend Sparrowpelt. They aren't mates, they just both wanted kits!

Fog later became mates with Leopardfoot after Star Pineheart left the Order. Fog decided to have a second litter after this with Sparrow as the sire again, this time however Leopard raised the resulting kit (Birdflight) alongside them!

Fog has a similar personality to Mousebite, they are both tough snarky ladies <3

Fog and Leopard retired to the elders den together and are two of the elders during TPB!

...

[Image ID: a digital drawing of Fogtalon an AU version of One-eye/White-eye from warrior cats. She is sitting with her left side showing and she is smiling with an amused expression on her face. She is a short furred light gray-blue ticked tabby molly with one missing eye and one cloudy white and yellow eye. She is mostly a light gray blue with darker gray blue stripes on her legs, tail and face. She has white on her muzzle, paws, chest and tail tip. She has tears in her ears, claw mark scars over her right eye which is an empty socket, and she has a few scars on the rest of her body. Her inner ears, nose and scars are all light pink./End ID]

[chaotic-iguana]

Refuge | chapter three. 

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | general masterlist 

chapter three: damning rebirth

wordcount: 3.8k - my longest work yet lmao summary: what if reader and joel were married before the outbreak? warnings: angst, estrangement, anger, violence, sad, its like centered around finding yourself again, reader and joel are both quite complicated broken ppl im trying to do them justice, not much joel he’ll be in the next chapter i promise.

You didn’t speak to him for weeks after that first afternoon. You’d run out of words to say. You stopped speaking to his brother, too, for keeping you in the dark; ignoring Maria’s justifications, the constant droning of “…he did it to keep you safe, you know? So you wouldn’t leave Jackson’s safety and run after Joel. You could have died. Sarah’s death would have broken you, like it broke him, and you should be thankful that…” 

You tuned her out after a while. It was getting tiring coming up with rude adjectives to describe how wrong she was in your head. There was no fight left in you to even protest, so you just left the room while she was talking. You loved her, but there were days you thought she just enjoyed hearing herself talk. Which she was extremely welcome to do, but with the acknowledgement that you would rather walk into a bloaters' den unarmed than sit through it.

Tommy had lied to you, kept the truth about your family from you, and no matter how many ways he spun it, it wouldn’t change the fact that when your first fucking words to him were asking about Joel and Sarah, he had looked you in the eyes and lied through his goddamn teeth when he said he didn’t know. He could go crying to Maria all he liked. You’d need a while not to recoil with disgust every time you saw him no matter how many times you got told to stop acting like a child. When Tommy realised the extent of your anger, he attempted to remedy it by telling you everything. Sarah getting shot on outbreak day - you still winced when he said it- and Joel’s time in the QZ, with a woman called Tess. You didn’t even know what to make of that. You probably couldn’t unpack your feelings about it if you tried. How he found the girl you’d gotten alarmed by - the job he got, how he took her in, how he lied to her and why she won’t look at him now. 

You didn’t even bother forming opinions about any of it, let alone voice any. Thinking was futile; your thoughts or ideas or opinions or offense wouldn’t change anything, would they? You continued the same monotonous routine you had established for the past year or so since you arrived to Jackson, this time with even fewer occasions of leaving the house for a party or drink. 

The shop and your bedroom became your life, the only people you spoke to were those looking for books. You’d collected them for years in the hope that if the outbreak ever got under control, there would be literature somewhere for humanity to remember what it used to be. Or perhaps a relic, serving as a legacy for a species long gone. Something, just to yell at the world and all those to come after, that you were here, even when you weren’t really. You hadn’t quite been here since the day the world had ended. Since the day you had lost everything. And now, twelve years later, all of it just came crashing back. 

The pain was as if someone had crawled into your flesh, peeled your ribs back, and plucked your heart out.

Sarah had become less of a person and more of a concept to you over time. The intangibility that very literally gave you strength when you lay bruised and beaten, held down and overlooked by snarling strangers. She had been your salvation; your everything. Losing her wasn’t something you had truly came back from the first time around, suppressed guilt and fear and worry gnawing at the back of your mind. The reappearance of all of it, overshadowed this time by crippling guilt, was a cruel albeit welcome one. You wanted to feel bad - because much like Joel, it was what you deserved. You had failed - not only as a mother but as a wife, too. You should have just gone home on time that fucking night, but life got in the way as if often used to back then. All those little things that got blown out of proportion like work and deadlines and projects and careers didn’t even matter now. You should have come home. You should have been there.

You didn’t even want to imagine how Joel felt. To you, the ache was a phantom limb - trailing you wherever you went, interwoven with your shadow. To him, it was a stain on his hands that he never seemed to be able to rub out; he could always see a tinge of crimson coating his fingers, ever since that night.

Neither of you could look the other in the eye anymore. 

Yet, even after all of it life simply went on, stuttering but still relentless in its proceedings. Pink, jagged scars marred the flesh of time as it stretched around the metalwork of the lives you had fought to keep, yet lost the worth of anyways. Fate is seldom kind.

It wasn’t too peculiar, this distance. Ironically, even after all these years, you both understood the other perfectly - as if each thought either of you had, each feeling you felt, was respected and loved and relayed by the refuge of your marriage, still. You understood that he was too ashamed by his self-proclaimed failure to speak to you, and he understood that the loss had so wholly devoured you that you wouldn’t have the strength to look in his eyes and be reminded of hers for a while.

The song and dance continued, the delicate persuasion of ensuring not to jolt the fragile existences the other had created for themselves. Joel didn’t come near your bookshop, and you didn’t go near Tommy, lest the words ‘family dinner’ be spoken into existence. Truly, he was idiot enough to suggest it. As if all that your currently brilliant (more like fractured) relationship with your husband (was he still? what about tess?) needed was a dinner with his brother, his sister in law, and the kid he had apparently adopted, lied to, and was now in a rough spot with. Gotta love reunions, no?

In another life, you would have stepped in. You would have spoken to either of them - perhaps even made more of an effort to include Ellie in your own life to ensure that after all she had been through, she wouldn’t feel alone even when she wasn’t doing well with Joel. In this life, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Joel acted like a selfish, moronic liar, sure. But if this kid couldn’t see, that at his very core, he was just plain scared - that he practically shook in his (adorable) cowboy boots anytime someone mentioned what happened to Ellie - then, great, she deserved Joel not realising that it was her decision to save humanity; to pay the price, to do what it took; entirely independent of him, or anyone else. You tamped down on the cynical part of you sneering at the romantic heroism of it all. The world knew now, better than before, how selfish man was. How utterly human, for Joel to struggle to separate his feelings for his own daughter and the one he had taken in; for Ellie to be too caught up in her own view to even consider what Joel was going through. It was almost like one of those plays you used to enjoy reading - like a Greek tragedy. The hamartia of both heroes was humanity alone.

They’d come around, eventually. Joel and Sarah always did, too. 

The irony lay mostly in the fact that you had spent a decade craving him - his comfort and his warmth. The kneading of his large hands on your back after a long day; the scratch of his stubble when he nuzzled into your neck from behind. The years you didn’t have him were spent with only him in mind; a mindless worship of the love you had. Now that he was within reach; close enough to grasp and curl your fingers around, to sink an burrow into; you were… lost. The desperation; the wild frenzy with which you had remembered only them through the years - to have lost one now leaves you clueless about what to do with the other. The cracks that have made their way into your heart - the ones tainting your soul - you see them reflected in him, too. Your first look into his dark eyes told you that he, too, has done too much to be standing here today; that his first kill, too, had been the man he once was. No wonder you can’t bear to look at each other anymore. The grief - not only of what you have both lost, or what you once had, but the grief of who you both used to be - rears its ugly head in any room you find yourselves in together. Look at me, it screams. Look at what the years have done to me. I can’t recognise myself in mirrors anymore. I don’t see who I used to be. I was so beautiful. I was so good. Look at me. Look at me. Look-

Is this how the angels felt when they fell? You’d never know - there were no angels; there was no God. What divinity would allow for any of this to happen? This joke, this mockery of nature. You never were religious, but fumbled prayers had found their way into your vocabulary every night when you didn’t know where Joel and Sarah were. You - who had never even stepped into a church had prayed.

You must have forgotten there was nobody sitting in the sky to listen.

You had made your peace with the mutual decision to avoid him and the girl - not only because you didn’t even know how to start apologizing to her-but because you were content with the mere knowledge that he was here, that he was alive and breathing.

Tommy’s guilt worked in your favor, ensuring that he didn’t try pairing you and Joel up for patrols - likely fearful of the fallout that might occur (but like, what could even happen? another apocalypse?) but the comedown of that meant that you were paired up with Fred, instead. A man who infuriated you to no end, one who found it extremely interesting that you were once married, that you have a child. Had.

His ceaseless questions made you want to rip your hair out, but you refrained - if only so he wouldn’t have another reason to put his arms around you to try ‘calming’ you like last time. He was a bastard, but you didn’t have it in you to challenge him just yet.

Your answers to his enquiries were grunted or simply monosyllabic, your irritation clear as day in the set of your jaw, the slant of your brow. Nevertheless, like the dumbfuck he was, he persisted. So then how was this your fault?

It had been a decent morning. You’d gotten up early in time for the patrol, taken a shower, drank some water and arrived at the stables. But as you stood outside, you could hear the commotion of people inside - boisterous cheering and laughing as if one would hear in a pub. Interest piqued, you inched your way to the entrance of the barn silently, trying to understand what was going on. 

“…fuckin’ whore’s been leading me on for like half a year, turned out she was married the whole time. Dodged a bullet, though. Nearly lost her shit when he told her that her kid died. Went completely apeshit and ruined my goddamn shirt with her snot- nearly clawed through my arm, too. Feel bad for the poor husband, had to yell at everyone to get out just so he could calm her crazy ass down. Everyone’s lost someone, lady. Get over it, right? Plus, girl that age wouldn’t have done too well at a QZ, know what I mean? Wouldn’t have gone untouched, anyways.” He paused for them all to laugh at the supposed comedic gold in his words - him and his little pack of primitives - and all you could do was stand there, glued to the spot in shock.

The fucking audacity. Leading him on? You fucking tried your best to get him to stop talking to you, stop touching you - and you didn’t claw at his arm because you were crazy, you did it because you were fucking panicking and some idiot was making it worse by caging you in. And that was brushing aside what he said about Sarah. No, that had you seeing red, chest heaving.

Fuck, the old you would have broken his nose on the first day. Never is too late to do the right thing, is it? 

Just like before, a laugh was forming in your chest. A giggle at first, before you were chuckling, clapping a hand to your mouth and horrified with your own humour. The joke here was priceless, though. See - the world had ended, God was dead, and you were worried about being lightly reprimanded? Fuck that, and fuck him. You hadn’t let yourself feel fear out there. You hadn’t let yourself feel despair, and you sure as hell hadn’t let yourself feel hope. Joel’s arrival forced you to confront all the pain you had ignored. This cunt of a man was managing to unearth all the anger you had neglected, too. His fucking funeral.

Your tongue sat agitated against your teeth in anticipation, waiting to give way to the venom lacing the words in your brain. 

Fury sparked in your blood, washing away all your hesitation. Fragmented, she etched herself into the ring of black that blew out your pupils; the unfaltering thumping of your heart in your chest. The threads of your fate were now in her slender, silhouetted hands, and all that was left for you to do was obey. Not that you had a choice. 

Before you could so much as blink, you had burst into the crowd. Fred’s eyes widened at the wild snarl on your face, begging and apologizing.

He was unaware, though, of just how sick you had become of apologies. Tommy’s apologies, Joel’s apologies, Maria’s shitty ones, and then the sympathetic apologies you’d been getting from customers because apparently word of Sarah and her role in your life had spread like wildfire throughout Jackson. Joel wouldn’t have shared it, nor would Tommy- not when he knew you were two seconds away from breaking his nose just weeks ago. That left the kid Joel bought-Ellie-or Fred. And something just told you it wasn’t the girl. You’d trust Joel’s judgement blindly any day.

His empty sorrys fell upon deaf ears, his trembling voice cracking as he repeated them over and over.

You grinned, baring your teeth.

“Hello, Fred. Hello, everyone. Having a party and I wasn’t even invited?” You pouted mockingly. “Y’ know what I personally think is absolutely, knee-slappingly hilarious?” You paused, watching their curiosity grow as they fell hook, line and sinker for the cheerful façade, furrowing ther brows in question and stepping in closer. “How untouched you look, asshat.” Your grin dropped just as you rocked back on your heels, surging forward within a split second while throwing all your weight into your fist. 

Just as it collided with the asshat's jaw.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You’ve been…frazzled since Joel came back, fine, but I cannot excuse your behaviour just because I know you or because you’re family. This was absolutely out of line, is that clear?” Maria stopped her pacing to turn to you, expecting a justification or an apology. You offered neither. When you refused to so much as look up from your split knuckles, she threw her hands up, huffing at her husband, who was leaning against the table sheepishly while wincing every time her voice rose as she yelled at you. 

The door swung open and Joel practically stumbled in, eyes searching wildly until they landed on you curled up on a chair with your hands in your lap. Did news seriously spread that fast, even now? Guess people don’t have much to do when the world has ended.

“Look- I know, I know you went through a lot. At first, you were spacey and Tommy told me to just leave it alone. Then, you got the bookshop and you just spent all your time there or on patrols, never even trying to integrate yourself here, and I’ve let it go because he-“ a finger in Tommy’s direction, “-begged me to. Let go of your little…tantrum with Ellie, too. I watched Tommy mope around and I said nothing even when you refused to accept that he hadn’t told you about Joel, for your own good.” Tommy flinched, but she went on. “I just can’t do it this time. You broke Fred’s jaw, you know? He is a contributing, well-liked citizen in Jackson. Not a recluse. I didn’t believe you’d done it until I saw the state of your hand. You’re always so quie-just-just give me one fucking reason you would punch him.” She was panting by the end, her chest falling rapidly under the weight of her own tirade. 

Joel had planted himself directly between you and Maria, as if trying to protect you from the onslaught of her words. He looked more apologetic than you did, hands extending towards her while he took a deep breath, attempting to placate her. 

“Maria-now just wait a damn minute, she wouldn’t-“ 

Was he defending you? When had that happened? When had you become this-this blubbering, weak version of yourself that Joel had to protect? 

The cold, unforgiving numbness loosened its grip; fear, guilt but most strongly, shame coiling in your gut. Maria was right, in her own fucked up way. You had retreated so far back into yourself that all that was left within your grasp now was mere tendrils of who you used to be. 

Sarah would have been proud of me for punching the bastard, though. 

The thought rang in your mind as you raised your head, squared your shoulders. Took the stutter out of your voice, and looked Maria right in the eyes. 

“Your contributing, well-liked citizen said Sarah was lucky to die. That she wouldn’t have gone untouched in a QZ. Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. And thanks to how well liked he is, I didn’t get a chance to tell you that he’s been touching me for months. That he took advantage of the fact that I was too fucking broken to say anything, to anyone. It’s not like you would’ve believed me.” You watched both Millers’ faces harden, brows furrowing as fury began sinking her talons in their flesh. Joel looked murderous, jaw set at that angle you knew meant he was livid. Good. You had been, too. Tommy looked shocked, anger painting his features, and his wife just looked terrified, eyes darting from you to Joel, wide and panicked. It made you smile at her, the curl of your mouth dripping with condescension and mockery. 

“Maria, I’m so sorry you’ve had to overlook this many…grievances, let’s call them. I’ll work on my attitude here, I promise. I’ll go to book club and gossip about my husband and my dead daughter. I’ll do my hair and cut my nails and smile at people who don’t fucking deserve it. Hell, I’ll even forgive Tommy.” You pause, nodding at him, watching the relief in his eyes. Smile dropping, you meet Maria’s gaze again. 

“But here’s what I won’t do- I won’t stand in a room with that asshole again without breaking all the other bones in his body. I won’t stay quiet next time his hands are on me - I’ll snap his fucking neck. Anyone else with anything else to say about Sarah - even if it’s just goddamn condolences - will find themselves in a similar predicament. Is that clear?” She blinked at you, mouth wide open at the radical transformation in you as you spoke, taking so long to nod that you doubted she’d heard you at first. You didn’t blame her - you’d folded in on yourself, made yourself small these past few years. Become meek: looking at the floor, wringing your hands; doing absolutely anything to avoid confrontation or issue. You’d been too tired to fight or stand on your own two feet, and everyone had focused on the wobble in your voice; the wet lining in your eyes; the shake of your hands, and just decided that just because you chose not to challenge them, you weren’t capable of it. Fuck that. 

Joel’s eyes shone as he looked at you, chin dipping in acknowledgment as he, too, had a stunned look on his face. You just shrugged back at him, swinging your legs and getting up, walking out of the house without so much as a glance over your shoulder. 

The flame that had forged your spirit - the fire burning in your veins, the one snuffed out long ago - flickered back to life. Dim,  shaky, practically translucent - but ignited. 

And fuck, it felt good to be back. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @breakfastatjoels, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues. dividers by me! series taglist (same rule: message/comment to be added or removed, no hard feelings): @spookyxsam, @obscurexsorrows, @planet-marz1, @lunxramour, @anavatazes, @joeldjarin, @stunkbiggu, @joels-darlin, @casa-boiardi, @noisynightmarepoetry, @chiogarza, @jasminedragoon, @daddy-din, @moonlightdivine, @stickthegremlin, @jamesmasbone, @avampiregf, @amanitacowboy

[5lut4ghouls]

Zephyr with pots hcs :3

An// im projecting so hard with this, also they/them zephyr

❀ They also thought it was normal, kinda just figured that human bodies were far too weak and frail, they weren't wrong of course, but not to that extent

❀ They were stumbling around the den and bitching about how useless human bodies are, complaining about how they can barely stand up straight without their body nearly giving out

❀ Terzo genuinely looked at them like they were insane, like no, your body should not do that, and its a bit concerning if it is.

❀ he automatically assumed that he did something wrong during their summoning, and thats why zeph was pretty much miserable

❀ They were all very, very confused and a bit concerned. They didn’t go straight into guarding mode though. Figured it would be more rational to take them to one of the ministry nurses they trusted, and she figured out that it was more than likely pots

❀ The fit that ifrit and alpha threw when the figured out that heat makes pots worse, limiting the touch they're allowed with zeph as a result

❀ Of course they don't wanna make their pretty mate feel sick, but they still wanna be able to hold them :(

❀ Zeph has always been a pretty calm ghoul, even in the pits, so getting used to not doing as much physically wasn't that hard

❀ Of course they like playing around and stuff, but it doesn't drive them nuts when they have to sit in bed for a bit

❀ They do sometimes have a hard time with the fact that they can’t protect their pack as well as they could. It bothers them knowing that if something were to happen they wouldn't be able to fight for their pack

❀ They refuse to sit down when they get too dizzy. “I know my way around the ministry, as long as I hug the walls I'm not gonna hit anything or get lost.”

❀ Of course that's not what the pack is worried about, they don't want zeph passing out and hurting themself with no one else around

❀ Loves salt shots, they're like zephyr’s favorite snack

❀ When zeph is in a flare up they really like just laying on the couch in terzo’s office all day, they get company, and don't have to worry about moving around

❀ The pack does still get protective when zephyr feels sick, it's nice sometimes, and other times zephyr gets tired of not being able to walk anywhere without 5 ghouls behind them

[melowco]

i love these scenarios but im kind of tired of shuake/akeshu that makes akiren emotionally overdependent on akechi's survival. like... i wont deny the inherent homoeroticism and sheer fucking weight of akechi's survival being akiren's one true wish in maruki's reality and akiren wondering about akechi in the games epilogue...

but... one of the ending points of the game (esp in vanilla, still in royal) + strikers is that akiren won't have to alone in his struggles anymore (yes! despite moving back to his hometown!)

not to mention the thieves' den convo with the other PTs. the PTs might not fully understand what akiren and akechi have and been through but they still get it to an extent-- they don't need to fully understand each detail for them to stand by their leader. they still do grieve and support akiren and akechi (somewhat.) even futaba and haru. and although i also wont deny that i also do hc that akiren does have issues regarding expressing himself and his emotions... my point is:

i highly doubt that akiren could ever forget akechi. i highly doubt that akiren would let himself do that-- after all, they have a promise to keep. but also, i highly doubt that akiren would just sit in stagnation. that's not him, and he has his confidants and friends to support him.

he'll grieve akechi, definitely. he probably would never forget him. of course there will be an empty space left in his heart after third semester. it won't be linear, there's no guarantee that it won't be messy. but... ultimately... i see him living with his grief, taking it on stride. he's going to be fine.

with akechi alive or not, i see that akiren living his best life with akechi's memory in tow instead of having his memory tying him down is the best way to honor their promise. akechi's life was never trivial to akiren, but he still chose their true reality in the end. i doubt that the man who made that decision would trivialize his life chasing ghosts when he deliberately chose to move forward.

[bigearsbunbun]

2nd day in 10th grade 08/30/23

I slept a little early than usual since I literally got 4 hours of sleep yesterday so I slept at 1AM....When I woke up I was still tired as hell since I accidentally forgot to turn off my 7:10AM alarm.....god worse mistake I ever made dude I was so tired and I tried to stay awake this time since I didnt want to be waken up by my 8AM alarm because I was just sick of hearing the alarm 2times so I immediately go on with my day starting with.........tiktok of course nothing surpising abt that...ALSO the new curtains that I tried on my windows literally made the room so much lighter since its white and it lets the light of the sun through the thin fabric...

Anyway at 11AM I started getting ready for school and ended up getting to school at 12:22PM like I was getting indecisive about what to wear and had to rush in and out of my room to get the accessories that I forgot to put onT.T...

when I got to the school it was PACKED sigh and when I got to our classroom it didnt start yet to I was relieved, to pass the time I read some one piece so I couldnt get bored waiting for the teacher:DD...

After like 15 mins the teacher finally arrived and started discussing about the policies of the school and the do's and don'ts..... literally had to sit and listen to that for 2 FHOURS my butt hurts from sitting broTT like pleaaaaaaase RELEASE ME..

when it was snack break I saw some of my friends outside waiting for us, we started to visit our other classmates but some of them were still in class and their teachers havent dismissed them for snack break yet...also I couldnt give eshy the snacks I bought yesterday as a pay back because she was still in class and I felt shy to go in so I just joined some of my friends walking around the building as we ate our snacks:DD

then snack break is over I sat on my seat......the teacher didnt really made us do that much and we already did all the stuff for today so we just had to wait for her to dismiss us....it was boring....like really boring....I ran out of chapters to read since I forgot to download more so I felt even more bored...so then I started sketching....there werent really any stuff in the classroom that was interesting it didnt really have that much stuff so I started sketching my bracelet and some characters online and that lasted for 10 minutes.....after a few more minutes for waiting they finally dismissed us....oh no I just realized tomorrow is our turn to clean the classroom....kinda lucky though since tomorrow I'll wear PE its so comfyyy..

When I got out of the classroom I saw my friend lets call her den!! I'm lucky to have her as a friend shes so sweet... we chatted as we wait for eshy to get dismissed from class so we were just downstairs....I showed my new sketches and she liked them!! I really want to improve more and Im proud to say that I have been sketching for a few days straight which is pretty rare for me so it feels nice to finally feel motivated about practicing my art skills:DD

when we were finally complete we chatted for a while with some other friends:DD one of them got voted as a president and won shes pretty smart and kind so I think she'd do great as a class president...but the bad part is.... the vice president is our creepy past classmate....he's literally the worst person on earth in my opinion... he literally touches people for no reason and its hella sexual too!>:[ ugh and also that guy cheats in quizzes....pretty happy that he's not my classmate this school year..

It was finally time to go home and we all parted way at the gate...I took a ride home because I couldnt really walk anymore since I picked the worst shoes to use today...it was my moms shoes and its smallT.T (I'm bigger than my mom)

Aaaand I got home:D my poor feetT.T I will never ever wear those shoes ever againD:...

I took this photo on the way home!! the sun was still up since it was 4:30PM I took a pic of some of these flowers:DD (eshy likes these flowers)

anyway thanks for reading this far!! have a great day byeeee!!(*/ω＼*)

[lure-of-writing]

Anything to Fix This 

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Panic attacks, arguing, crying, hospitals

By the time your relationship with Yoongi came to an end nothing was the same in your relationship. You were the only one trying at this point. It had only been 4 years into bts being a group but their popularity was starting to get to both you and him. 

He had met you two years after debuting and he was starstruck by you and vice versa. Everything was amazing at first. You both promised to call and text when you had time and you even offered to visit him in the studio when you had free time to do so, even promising him that you wouldn’t be a bother to him. 

It did take some convincing on your part for him to allow you into the studio but like you promised you didn’t say a word unless he talked to you first. You simply sat there and did your own work. Focused to intensely on your own work you didn’t even hear or see him move to sit with you on the couch. “Thank you” “hm?” “I said thank you” a small smile graced your features while sharing a tender moment with him “ Why are you thanking me? I haven’t done anything except sit here” he gives you a slight nod while pulling you into his side “Thats why im thanking you, you don't have to sit here with me and yet you do. I know that I lack in showing my appreciation for you sometimes, so I thought I would tell you in case you forgot.”  

This is how your life went for about a year but it was a tiring life to lead. Always waiting for a call or text you would never get or getting it nine hours after you were supposed to get it either because one of you forgot to reach out or it was because of the time difference. Sitting in silence in his studio because you didn’t want to be a bother even if you just needed someone to talk to about how absolutely terrible your day was. Simply existing in each other's worlds without actually living in them was your new normal and you hated it, but you loved him. So doing as any person living in a romance movie would do, you stayed. 

The shift in your relationship was gradual, insignificant, if you would. It wasn’t something you could see with the naked eye. But undoubtedly it was there.

 Rain, it was raining and yet here you were walking in it at midnight, why? Well that would be because your boss had made you stay to help get leftover work done instead of letting you leave like any normal person would. You had tried to call Yoongi about fifteen times, hoping he would come and get you before deciding to give up. While entering the den you liked to call your house, your phone that you sat on the counter started to ring. It was like you and your phone were having a staredown for a solid thirty seconds before you decided to answer. “Hey, what's up, why did you call?” That's the first thing he says to you after you called him not once or twice but fifteen times at midnight? That's all he could muster? Really? 

The longest sigh fell from your lips without even meaning for it to. “I called because my boss kept me at work until midnight and I was hoping that you would come and pick me up, since you know the buses aren’t going at this time of night and it also happens to be raining, which by the way added a nice touch to my walk home incase you felt the urge to ask about it.”  

The anger in your chest was starting to boil and it didn’t help that you knew from the sound of his voice that he wasn’t sleeping and he simply chose to ignore your calls. “Also just a thought I’m having here if your girlfriend calls you fifteen times at midnight I personally feel like one could infer that there might, just maybe, i don't know be something wrong. But this is just a thought so let me know what you think about that.” he couldn’t even say anything before you were continuing with your rant 

“ Oh my gosh, I forgot to mention, how rude of me. I know that you’ve been awake this whole time because you don’t have an ounce of sleep in your voice so that means you chose to ignore my calls. I could have been for all you know and the police could be trying to get ahold of you. Wait, no no, I could have been dead but you wouldn’t know because you didn’t pick up your goddamn phone.” you were absolutely seething and he knew it, in fact he could actually feel it through the phone. It was surprising that his phone didn’t melt from your anger. 

“Look I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone, me and the guys were messing around in the studio and I didn’t have my phone on me.” you were laughing and not because you found what he just said to be funny ,no, you were laughing because you were livid. He knew he said the wrong thing at that moment. “I’m sorry but did you not have your phone in the room with you?” That was a trick question and you both knew it. “I did have it in the room with me, like i said I’m sorry for not answering your calls.” you weren’t even angry anymore. “Yeah whatever” and with that you threw your phone onto the couch before walking to your room. This is what you would call the beginning of the end. 

Comeback season was right around the corner and that meant the days were bleeding together into one and he never knew if it was day or night let alone what time it was. 

The look your parents shared was one of extreme dissatisfaction. Today, February third he was supposed to be meeting your parents and obviously that wasn’t happening. Did both of your parents know he was an idol with a demanding schedule? Yes. Did they care? No. If he really wanted to be with you he would be here meeting them and forming a relationship with his potential parent-in-laws. But as always you come second to his comeback. 

Walking into your house he spots you sitting on the floor doing your work on your coffee table. “Babe you would not believe the day I had.” snorting without even giving him a second of your time “ Really Yoongi? Cause you would not believe the day I've had trying to explain to my parents why you weren’t there meeting them when you're the one who picked the date to meet them.” he stops in his tracks “Shit that was today?” “Yep and they aren’t impressed,not that I blame them.” you both sat in silence for the rest of the night. 

“Since you guys have a three day break, I planned for us to have a little get-away. I rented out a nice house by the beach and even packed everything for you. All we have to do is go, and you can relax the whole time.” in the middle of the living room at their dorm is where you had to tell him isn’t it. Looking around the room he saw that everyone was staring at him waiting for an answer. 

“As much as I appreciate the thought of you doing that for me” your face fell as he spoke “I would much rather stay here and relax” was he kidding right now? You rented a house on the beach and packed all his bags and would even drive there and back yourself so that all he had to do was relax and yet he has the audacity to say that. “Are you kidding me right now Yoongi? You want to stay here?” “Like I said Y/N I would rather stay here.” tears were falling down your face and he didn’t know what to do. His hand was pulling on your arm trying to pull him into his chest. “It’s ok, I know you want to relax so I'll go. Dealing with a crying girlfriend isn’t relaxing” you were out the door before Yoongi could say anything. At first every bad thing that happened was just like a string in your shirt that came loose, small and barely noticeable and over time it was like you had accidentally pulled on the string and everything unraveled. 

Standing backstage was beginning to feel overwhelming. You didn’t know where anything was at, not like yoongi would show you anyways if you had asked. There were people everywhere, so so many people. Everything was so hot in here since there was moving bodies everywhere and anywhere the space would allow them to be. 

Rubbing one sweaty palm on your jeans while grabbing your phone in the other hand, staring at the tiny device debating on whether or not you should text Yoongi. There was still an hour left until the show started and you didn’t want to be a bother but it was starting to get hard to breathe. With every deep breath you took you knew all it would take for the damn to break is someone asking if you were ok and that would cause a scene you are not capable of handling. 

In and out was the current mantra on the moment while also reminding yourself not to cry. Not knowing where you were in the insanely large building you decided to stay put. “Yoongi I’m having a panic attack and I don’t know how to get back to the room. I’m by where we came in.” The delivered note was a little unsettling but having thirty plus people  watch you cry was more unsettling, so you stood there and waited. 

“Yoongi someone is calling you.” Jin tried handing him his phone but yoongi just waved his hand giving it a silent rejection “Whoever it is can wait we are getting ready for the show” shrugging jin sets the phone back on the table “Alright.”

Currently you have some lady's arm around your waist leading you to the green room. Almost certain that you had stopped breathing at some point on your walk there the lady was getting scared, she's never had to deal with something like this but she had managed to get yoongi's name from you before you really went downhill and she was praying that he would know what to do instead.

“Sweety I need you to breathe for me ok?” the fear was so evident in her voice you think you could see it if your eyes weren’t filled with tears. It hurt so much, all you wanted to do was take a deep breath but your body wasn’t allowing you to. Your chest felt much too tight for your liking and your whole body was shaking, tears falling from your eyes as if it was a waterfall and all you wanted was to breathe. 

“Yoongi?” his eyes snapped open, looking through the mirror he sees you gripping your throat with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. The next thing he notices in the lady holding you upright. Standing up he rushes over to take over the position the random lady once occupied “My god what happened?” he's setting you down on the couch before crouching in front of you, finally gasping for air before going back to not being able to breathe. “I don’t know. I found her by the back entrance and she was crying and breathing heavy. When I asked if she was ok then it took a turn all I was able to get was your name.” 

Namjoon thanks the lady before letting her know they had it from there. “Y/N baby I need you to focus on me ok? Just focus on me.” his hands are gently grabbing your face to keep your eyes on him “You need to breathe, in and out, breathe with me ok?” taking deliberate and slow breaths while searching your face for any sign of this panic attack slowing down he finds none. “Remember all the times we’ve worked through this? We’re going to work through this one also. I know it feels like it's impossible to take a deep breath but next time you take a gasp we're going to take a breath even if it's a small one.” your hands were wrapped around his wrists to keep yourself from clawing at your throat and to keep you grounded, at least as grounded as you could get right now. “ We’re going to get through this baby.” 

Somewhere in the back of your non-panicking mind it felt nice to know that he somewhat still cares about you, even if your relationship is going to shit, he was still there for you when you needed him the most. Maybe you could fix this. 

“Fifteen minutes boys, you need to get mic'd up and get to the stage.” Yoongi didn’t even pay him any mind, he was solely focused on you. He had to get you to calm down before he had to go on stage but it has been forty minutes since you came in here with that lady and you still haven’t calmed down. This was your worst panic attack you’ve ever had and he knows it. 

“Yoongi” Namjoon was soft with his name “You need to decide what you're going to do.” he didn’t want to actually say out loud what he was implying.  With a sigh he releases your face, and your heart shatters. He’s leaving you. Looking at his manager he starts with the instructions you had given him at the beginning of your relationship for when this would happen. “You're going to need to grab her face and make sure she looks at you or else she’ll focus on something else and you won’t be able to calm her down. Take deep breaths with her and match her breathing when she does take a breath. After she calms down and isn’t having a panic attack give her sugar she’ll need it, it helps with the shakiness that happens afterwards. Y/n gets super tired afterwards so let her sleep.” he's standing by the door now “Also keep her occupied or else she’ll think about what happened and have another panic attack.” and just like that he left you. 

Yoongi wouldn’t find out until after the show was done that none of the tips he gave to his manager helped you. After a two hour panic attack you had passed out from the lack of breathing mixed with the speed of your heart beat. The ambulance was called. Paramedics decided it was best to take you to the ER and see if the doctors would be able to figure out what caused such a strong panic attack.  

Waking up in a hospital room all by yourself was unnerving. It felt like your whole body was tingling and it was so uncomfortable. Unable to sit with your feelings by yourself much longer, you press the call button for the nurse. 

“I’m glad to see you're awake, you were asleep for about an hour now. How are you feeling?” “Where’s Yoongi?” that most definitely wasn’t the answer to how you were feeling. “I’m sorry y/n but no one came with you.” your head was moving before you knew it. “No he has to be here, there is no way he would let me be here by myself.” her thumb was gently rubbing against the back of your hand, trying to provide you comfort that only Yoongi was able to give to you.  “I’m sorry honey but he’s not here.”

The string had finally come loose and it felt like your whole world was unraveling before your eyes. Curling into yourself, a single tear had fallen from your eye. Everything was obvious now. You were never going to be his priority ever again. Him not picking up his phone, ok fine it happens. Rejecting your idea to spend a weekend together, alright sometimes you just need time for yourself. Leaving your girlfriend at one of the lowest points in her life to go perform. That really gave you an insight to how much you actually mean to him. Clearly not a lot. 

Everything just lost its meaning in life, not being with Yoongi motivated you to live life to the fullest. But now as the nurses listened to you let out the most heartbreaking scream from their station, you knew your relationship had died. Just like your soul. 

Stuck in the traffic after the concert, Yoongi was panicking. Finding out you were rushed to the hospital was the wakeup call he needed to see just how much you actually meant to him. Thinking about you waking up without him by your side made him feel sick. Leaving you by yourself to perform made him feel even sicker. Getting a break in the traffic he promises he will do anything to fix your relationship.

[whirlybirbs]

✶  —  las rosas están cayendo   ;   j.m. 

summary: you're a figurehead in a far-reaching criminal underground operation that's offered jesse mccree haven and work in the last few years. your relationship with the cyberized cowboy is complicated but oh-so lovestruck.

pairing: jesse mccree / reader, est. relationship

tags: fluff, angst, good guy falls for the bad guy who’s not so bad

a/n: i’m simping, it’s fine

                               (    read on archive of our own !   )

Jesse McCree likes the Silkroad's End. Always has.

The place's very namesake pays homage to some dark web marketplace that operated back in the 10s; it's fitting, Jesse thinks, since the entity itself certainly fits what he'd imagine the personification of that very digital market to be. Dark, a bit shady, and always crawling with folks who aren't really who they say they are.

Staff changes every three weeks. Location, too. Lucky for him, the only thing that stays the same is the barkeep. Everything else is rotating, always moving, always changing. It's best that way.

Truth be told nothing in the States offers true anonymity, anymore. All that's long since past. Every damn street corner has a camera watchin'. But, the Silkroad's End is good — and discretion is their business. They offer what people like Jesse McCree need:

Trustworthy resources.

Even still, knowing about the Silkroad's End is one thing.

Getting in is another entirely.

Jesse's learned not to be startled when a stranger ambles up and slips something in his palm — might get 'im killed someday, but for now, he offers a gentle tip of the hat to whatever camera is eyein' his current move in whatever city he's in.

The chips — obsidian colored and round — are few and far between. There's a chain-code implanted in the micro-computer inside that registers a location on his personal data-device; but without that chip, he ain't gettin' inside. It's one use, one time only.

This time, the den is a quiet little place on a side street in New Orleans.

This chip was delivered to Jesse in a seedy bar bathroom — and as he shoved it into his pocket and muscled up his tawny-colored jeans, he was left grimacing. Bastard that gave it to him didn't even wash his hands. Just pissed and dropped it on top of the urinal.

The den is downstairs, and Jesse turns in his chip after finding the little location to a towering omnic who reminds his a little bit too much of a certain butler he once knew.

"Might wanna wash that."

Spurs tinker on the wooden steps, and when the door's eye slot slams open, Jesse is met with the gaze of a human this time — an unknown staff member with a tattoo that crawls up the side of his head. There's a tense silence. Then, the slot slams shut.

With a quick yank of the three-inch durasteel door, Jesse finally steps foot into the Silkroad's End.  

And, with an elated sort of smirk, he swaggers right in your direction.  

Jesse reckons it's been four months since he's seen you — the ever-present barkeep and present owner of the Silkroad's End  — last ;  could be that you're one of many owners and operators, as he suspects but... Well, Jesse never had enough to go on that hunch.

There he was, as always, distracted.

You know the sound of his spurs from a million others. In an instant, your lashes are flicking up from the bar and through the crowded back room. Tonight is busy — seems a good few members decided tonight would be the night they cash in their chips. You shouldn't be surprised to see Jesse McCree, but...

He's always had a way of knocking you off your game.

"Have I ever told you," comes the low croon as a set of cyberized knuckles rap on the mahogany bar, "that you make the best drinks around?"

Your smirk settles into your words. You move slowly, reaching for that top-shelf whiskey he likes so much.

"Is that why you keep coming back, then?"

Jesse smirks. His trademark hat finds a spot beside him at the bar, and he leans back to run a hand through his dark, wild hair. "One of a handful of reasons I could list, sure."

The drink that lands in front of him is coupled with your full attention.

Jesse feels awfully big in it.

His fingertip tinker against the glass. The sound is pleasing.

Your elbows meet the bartop. You lean. Your eyes drift across his face, and for a moment you find a rush of relief bloom at the realization that there are no new scars. He looks tired, but well.

Alive.  

A lot for a man with a bounty of sixty million on his head.

You work hard to keep that very bounty out of the Silkroad's End 's docket. That ledger of his, deep and relentless, has become harder to ignore in recent months. With word that Overwatch was recalled... Jesse's name had been floating around more than you liked recently.

It made you worry.

Your voice is soft. So is your smile.

Jesse, the sap he is, is glad he's sitting down for the sight of it.

"You look good, Jesse."

He scoffs into the whiskey. His eyes, a dark brown and warm like the run, roll at the remark. You grin.

"M' gettin' old," he rumbles, "And things are changing' faster than I can keep up with."

You don't pry. A habit. A good one, mostly. Jesse has a habit of being an open book. Given the chance, you'll pry later. For now, you opt to air on the side of wistful interest. Fleeting and light.

Your chin finds your palm.

Long ago, you wouldn't have dared to let a soul see you so engaged with a member like this, but... This operation ran on trust. Discretion was a part of the bigger equation and the people in this room?  You've known most of them for years now.

Bounty hunters, arms dealers, drug peddlers.

They know better than to bite the hand that feeds.

"You been busy, then?" you ask, watching the way his eyes stick to you, even when he reaches to dig out a cigar from a pocket beneath his serape. In a flash, he's procured a gilded lighter and flicked it open. The flame dances between you both, and you watch as he puffs the cigar. The embers burn red.

He exhales and smoke swirls around his head like horns — Jesse's lips slip into a lopsided sort of look; more playful than anything.

"That lead you gave me," he drawls, "It worked out. Paid good, too."

Your smile is slow.

This song and dance is always fun.

"Been savin' a few for you," you say, "You're one of the few I can trust to actually bring people in alive."  

"I haven't even been here fer more than a minute an' you're already talkin' business, pumpkin," Jesse grins, all toothy and scruffy, and takes another puff of his cigar, "That all you ever do?"

"You know me, Jesse," you slide your fingers across the underside of the bar, sending the partition up and allowing you to step around. You shrug your shoulders and hang your hands. The way his eyes flick across your figure isn't lost on you.

You cock your head towards the back office as you speak. "Always scheming."

If that ain't the god damn truth.

You're a smart little thing. All devilish wit and pulled strings. You have enough dirt in your back pocket to bring a few governments down, Jesse supposes. Nothing to bat an eyelash at.

He follows with ease; hat tucked upon his head once more, cigar and whiskey held in his hands. He follows you, looming over your shoulder, as the sea of patrons part with sidewards glances and half-aware nods. Everyone has their own business to attend to. You're simply attending to yours.

The back office isn't really much of an office — if anything, it's a refitted storage room. There's a desk, a handful of monitors, and enough security barring entrance to the windowless room that Jesse's roughed up every time.

The omnic patting him down isn't gentle. He tugs the peacekeeper from his hip holster and grunts. Jesse scowls.

That ain't never been a problem before, though.

You, all poised with your arms crossed, wave it off. The gun is shoved roughly back into Jesse's holster. If both hands weren't preoccupied, maybe the bouncer would get more than the nasty snarl Jesse manages as he's waved through. Maybe.

As the door slips shut behind him, the sound of your heels is all he hears.

"Beefed up security, huh?"

Your sigh is tight. He can see the tension along your shoulders when you round the sleek desk in the middle of the room and unlock a drawer. If you'd thought he'd move past your silence, you're wrong.

Jesse isn't like you.

He has a bad habit of asking plenty of follow up questions.

"What happened, pumpkin?"

That damn nickname is enough to spur you to straighten yourself, to set the datapad down gently on the desk in front of you, and to frown.

"There was an incident."

His worry is palpable.

"Nothing dramatic," you wave it off, shooing him slightly when he nears the desk. You walk around it and lean, settling on the edge, "But it was enough to spook a few staff members into being more mindful of who carries in the establishment. Especially behind closed doors."

You've had enough guns pulled on you in your life to know that one could have been the last — but it wasn't. It was fine. Might have earned you a few restless nights and a few connections to clean up, but the disgruntled member was dealt with. That was a month and a half ago now. Distant.

Jesse frowns. He sets his whiskey down on your desk, then leans and smothers the cigar in a fizzle of ash and smoke in the ashtray there.

His voice goes low, gruff, and serious.

"Pumpkin, I ain't a good man," he breathes, eyes low beneath the brim of his hat, "You're better off not trustin' men like me."

He does this every time.

A glimmer of self-consciousness towards his own character.

You know him better than to believe that shit.

"Jesse, if anyone was to put a bullet between my eyes," you mutter, unlocking the datapad with a flick of your finger, "I'd be honored if you were the one to do it."

That earns you a low grumble.

His weight moves to shift beside you. His hip bumps yours. His shoulder saddles right up against your own. You can smell the cigar on him, the burn of the whiskey on his tongue. Jesse is warm. He laces his own fingers together. You can feel his eyes on you as you sift through the files of bounties — and you try not to seem startled when he says your name soft enough it could pass for a lullaby.

"... You alright?"

It's not often you're asked this question.

You were right before — you were always talking business. Personal matters were kept far from any business dealings you did on a daily basis. It was pertinent. Kept the machine well-oiled.

Things with Jesse, though... They'd been different for a long time.

Things changed when the two of you had forgone professionalism once a handful of years ago now. It wasn't long after the first time you'd met him the cowboy had stolen himself into your well-guarded feelings. You blamed the charm. He believed it was luck. Despite knowing nearly nothing about you, he'd become enamored, and — when you'd initially thought the sex was something to sweeten the deal, Jesse quickly made it plenty clear he intended on keeping the sex and the business separate.

The feelings grew between those two things.

Now, in the center of his attention... Well, you feel small.

You let out a slow exhale.

"I missed you, y'know," you say slowly, eyes still trained on the names staring back at you on the datapad.

"Yeah," he breathes, "I missed you, too. Ain't fun bein' gone so long."

"As if either of us has a choice?"

Another hum. This one a bit sadder. Jesse supposes you're right, that it isn't exactly ideal  — and it's not as if he's allowed himself to be vulnerable to anyone else these last few years. Not when he's a wanted man. Not when gettin' someone tangled up in the danger is the last thing he wants.

It was different with you. You knew the danger. You...

Christ alive, he wishes now things were different.

Back then, it was easy.

Coming to terms, now, with the numbing loneliness that hangs itself over the both of you hurts a bit worse. Time is ticking by. He'll be older than he is younger soon.

"You ever wish you could leave it all behind?"

His question is met with a tired scoff. Your cheek finds his shoulder. Your hair falls along his arm.

"And become the world's most wanted woman?"

"What you've got is an empire," Jesse drawls, a hand slowly reaching for your own, "M' sure someone would wanna call it theirs ."

"And then what happens to the tired, old queen? The queen who knows what makes that empire strong?"

Your quirk your brows. Jesse sighs.

"... Point taken."

"I made my bed," you say with a measured sense of finality, "And I've gotta lay in it, Jesse."

His eyes dance alight when something then that's tempered with fire; he blinks down at you through thick lashes as he speaks.

"Wouldn't mind layin' with you..."

It's husky. Drawn out. Nearly a sigh, especially when his fingers slip along the curve of your wrist and draw up to your cheek.

"I'm starting to think you come here," you mumble with an edge of sarcasm as his nose brushes yours, "For more than just business ."

"Oh, sweetpea," Jesse grins as he whispers, "It's been that way for a long time now."

The kiss is bruising — the sort you missed horribly in those months apart. It's lip and teeth and scruff; the brush of his beard is enough to make you smile, enough to make you abandon the datapad on your desk.

Enough to keep you distracted enough that you don't notice Jesse McCree tapping an encrypted data transfer skimmer over your datapad.

You'll notice in the morning.

And by then, he'll be long gone.

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 7.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

TagList- @ayyyocee​​​​​​​​​​, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune​​​, @imaforeigner​​​​​​​​​​, @yeonkiminnie​​​​​​​​​​​, @stories1907​​​​​​​​​​​, @ppersonna​​​​​​​​​​​, @brilee64​​​​​​​​​​​, @gooplibrary​​​​​​​​​​​, @vivpurple7​​​​​​​​​​, @xjoonchildx​​​​​​​​​​, @brightwingr5​​​​​​​​​​, @yaniposts22​​​​​​​​​​, @rjsmochii​​​​​​​​​​, @taeslittletiger​​​​​​​​​​, @pjmcth​​​​​​​​​​, @bts-chub​​​​​​​​​​, @kpoppingthempills​​​​​​​​, @kim-ji-hyeons-world​​​​​​​​, @jikooksgirl19​​​​​, @yoong-i​​​​​, @ruinsofangels​​​​​, @absolutefantrash​​​​, @chiminies-noona​​​​, @eclectically-esoteric​​​, @itsbreeeeeeee, @septembersjoon​​

Sequel to The Bird Cage

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. Hoseok gave very little information over the phone to Yoongi apart from the fact that during the Ims encounter with Jeongguk at the warehouse he had bitten off his own tongue during their scuffle. So there was very little chance that the Im would have been able to tell the mafia family anything at all. Hoseok had found him on the side of the road in a thicket of bushes, bleeding out of his mouth.

Upon arriving home, Jimin was pacing in the sitting room. Hands over his face before hearing the door slam shut. He picks his head up before narrowing his eyes at you, “And where were you three?” He questions as your nephew, Jisuk runs through the sitting room with Jin hot on his trail. 

“At the Bird Cage, handing over the reins to Rina.” You tell your husband as you step down the entryway stairs. He hums before opening his arms for you like a small child. You can see his anxiousness quite clearly, his aura was exuding this sort of tenseness that makes your heart sink. You hug him tightly, feeling his soft lips against your forehead before he’s burying his face into your hair. “Are you tired? Do you and the baby want to nap?” He whispers gently as he rubs the muscles on the back of your neck with his fingertips. 

“I’m okay. No tiredness, yet.” You whisper, relishing in the warmth he gives you. “It’s a girl.” He mutters before looking over at the two men in the entryway. 

“Hoseok is up in the playroom with Im Gyujin. We have to dispose of his body. Quietly.” Yoongi pulls out a cigarette before nodding. Namjoon takes off his hoodie before following Yoongi up the second staircase. You look up at your husband, chin to the middle of his chest. He was the most handsome man in the entire universe. Even now, after all these years your heart still swells at the sight of him. He looks down at you before kissing the tip of your nose. “I love you, Kitten.”

“I love you, too.” You whisper before hugging him tightly. He chuckles gently before exhaling a long breath. “We don’t think he got far enough to tell the Ims anything at all. Which is good. He was bleeding out on the side of the road from his mouth. Passed out from blood loss.” He mumbles to you before running his hand over your back. 

“Well that’s good at least.” You reply before small arms are wrapping around your leg. You hum questionably before looking down at Jisuk as he squeezes your leg. Jimin steps back before chuckling gently, “Aunt Y/N?” Jisuk whispers quietly.

You look over at Jin as he sits down on the couch, “What’s the matter, babe?” You ask before crouching down to his height and pushing some of his hair off of his forehead. 

“Mommy and Daddy are going to take me to the zoo!” Jisuk says happily and you giggle as he jumps up and down. “Are they?! That’s so much fun! You’re going to get to go see elephants! Your favorite!” He nods fervently before Jin sits up on the couch. “We’re going to take Hawon and Minseok if that’s okay. I know you guys have a lot going on right now and I don’t want the kids here when the playroom gets emptied… y’know?” Jin pipes up from the couch.

“That’s a great idea. Thanks Jin.” Jimin says gratefully before your phone begins to ring. Jimin raises an eyebrow before laughing. “Rina already is feeling the pressure?”

You dig into your leather jacket before widening your eyes. “No actually, it’s Im Ryu.” You whisper before showing your husband the phone. Jin stands up quickly before picking Jisuk up and nodding towards the kitchen. “I’ll give you both some privacy.”

The ringer is loud as you both stare at each other. Nervousness encroaching upon your mind before Jimin grabs your hand. He clears his throat awkwardly before nodding to the phone. “Answer it.”

You swipe your thumb over the call button before putting the phone on speaker, “Ryu! Hey!”

You hear a giggle before she speaks, “Vixen! Good afternoon! Did you eat yet?”

You squint your eyes at your husband before he’s shaking his head slowly. “No! I haven’t eaten yet. You?” He looks at his Rolex before pushing some hair behind your ear.

“Nope! You know what that means!” Her voice sounds carefree and as light as air. It’s almost relaxing before you’re holding up your phone to your mouth.

“Gaudio’s?” You ask before hearing a laugh. “My treat, Vixen. See you in an hour?”

Jimin nods slowly before closing his eyes. “An hour is perfect.” You reply before the line goes dead. He exhales through his nose before wrapping his hand around your wrist and pulling you up the stairs. 

“I want Yoongi and Namjoon to go with you. She might not know anything and she might know everything.” Jimin mutters as he riffles through his desk drawers. His eyes light up before pulling out a long thin wire with a small microphone attached to it. “You’re bugging me?” You ask your husband before folding your arms. He nods quickly before curling his hand to have you walk over to him.

“Jimin, no. You’re not fucking bugging me and making me wear this stup-” He silences you with a kiss before putting his forehead to yours. “You’re going to wear this so I can be with you. I need to hear if she knows anything or alludes to anything. Plus, you have my baby inside you and I need this for my peace of mind.” He shakes his hand, the thin wire shaking gently before stilling. Your eyes meet his, pupils flickering between both of his eyes as he stares at you with steely determination.

Now was certainly not the time to be a brat. “Okay.” You whisper before stepping back. You could be unreasonable at any given time, but today with the stakes raised so high, you would give in to your husband. Countless times before you’re denied him simple things to get a rise from him but you couldn’t bring yourself to today. 

“I want you to bring a gun with you just in case. And, your knife.” You nod to him as he pulls down the straps of your dress to attach the microphone. “Don’t trust anything she says. Analyze everything and don’t walk into a trap with your free speaking mouth.” He instructs you before kissing your lips.

You giggle before staring at the new picture above the desk, it used to be just the seven men and now it was them plus the new additions to your family. If this lunch could somehow bring to light if the Im’s knew you took one of their family members, you needed to go through with it.

You didn’t hate Ryu or Haeun, nor their children for what the Im brothers did to your parents. But, they would end up suffering without their husbands. It’s unfortunate that they had to be the ones to do such a thing, but you feel no remorse for your payback. You feel remorse that their families would suffer. This lunch can bring you one step closer to your revenge, whether Jimin tries to hold you back from it or not.

Stepping into the restaurant, you can already feel your palms begin to sweat. Having Yoongi and Namjoon with you was nice but feeling the knife on your thigh gives you a steadiness you need as your heels clack against the marble floor. “Park.” You say to the waiter before taking off your sunglasses. 

This part that you play so easily, the carefree Vixen of Seoul with a steeled brain and a venomous tongue usually dissipates around Ryu and Haeun. You had considered them friends for years before finding out their husbands had murdered your parents. Shortly after finding out this information, your free time that was spent with them was few and far between. You didn’t want to see their faces, didn’t want to feel unwarranted anger rise within you because of something their significant others had done and not them. 

Jimin had told you countless times not to look at them in such a way if you wanted to continue to be their friend. But, how could you not look at them with anger? You were unsure if they knew what their husbands had done or even if Junggoo and Jungin knew who they killed. Regardless, revenge was coming their way and there would be major fallout.

The private dining room doors swing open and you take in Ryu as she sips her wine. She was wearing the Oh Hyungshil necklace you had bought off a patron in the restaurant many years ago and you clear your throat before entering with Yoongi and Namjoon behind you. Ryu only had one Im man with her today. You’re unsure if she knows anything but without more men behind her, you feel yourself falling into a false sense of security which is something Jimin explicitly today you not to do.

She looks up at you, a large smile spreading on her face before looking at both of the guys behind you. “Are you in danger?!” She asks quickly, putting down her glass of wine. 

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly before taking your seat across from her. She widens her eyes at you before watching as you place your hand over your flat stomach. She reaches over the table before grabbing the glass of champagne she ordered for you. “I’ll take that. Thank you preggo.” She mumbles before sipping the champagne.

This is usually so easy between the both of you, more so then when Haeun is around. Ryu was a genuinely nice person, she was funny and fierce quite like yourself and it tugs at your heartstrings that you’ve kept her so far away because of something her husband did. “Congratulations by the way, I know you were having a hard time trying to get pregnant." She congratulates you and you give her a small smile. 

“Thanks, we just found out yesterday.” Her smile widens before looking at the two members behind you. She points to the chairs beside you before nodding to the men. “Sit down, it’s not every day I get to see two Lions in one room.”

They both sit before looking at each other with a raised eyebrow. The Ims never ask for other men to sit down, they don’t want them to be completely comfortable and so you could imagine how off putting it might be for them. Your eyes find Ryus before she’s sitting back in her chair. “I asked you to come eat with me because I got this.” She whispers before digging into her purse and handing you a letter. 

You watch as she hands it to you, fingers shaking delicately before she runs her hands over the top of her tight bun. “Junggoo wanted to know if you’ve gotten anything like this.” She whispers over the table before chugging the champagne. 

You pull the note out delicately, the stock card rustling before the bold words in black are presented to you.

You widen your eyes at the note before passing it to Yoongi who sits beside you. “No sender, no nothing.” You mumble to him as Namjoon peers over his shoulder.

“You haven’t received anything like that?” Ryu asks, her tone filled with fright and nervousness. 

“No, we haven’t.” Yoongi mumbles before narrowing his eyes at the inked page. You peek down the front of your dress before feeling relaxed knowing Jimin was listening. This was odd, there was really nothing about the Im’s, apart from the knowledge that they murdered your parents, that they really have done wrong. They run illegal cock fighting, guns and own a casino quite like yours. They really aren’t in the business of doing things ridiculously out there. “This is handwritten.” Namjoon notifies you all before taking the letter from Yoongi’s hands with his sleeve. 

“If you don’t mind I’d actually like to get some tests run on this.” Namjoon asks Ryu before sliding it back into the envelope without touching it, “We should run some tests on it. For fingerprints and stuff.” He says to her.

She nods enthusiastically, “Please! Anything would help. I’m so nervous, Y/N. What if my kids get taken or something?!” She whimpers before putting her hand to her forehead. Now this was something any mother would take seriously. “No one is fucking taking your children. Do you hear me?” You grab her hand over the table before narrowing your eyes at her.

“As a mother, you would never allow anything to happen to them and I know you very well. Your children and both you and Haeun are going to be just fine.” You aren’t promising anything else, that would be a lie and you’re too bold to do anything but tell the truth. She nods, eyes becoming glassy before Namjoon puts the letter inside of his suit jacket. 

“Now let's eat.” You tell her as the waiters enter with food, before you can cross your legs you feel a piece of paper land on your knees and you shift before looking into Ryu’s eyes and grabbing it.

Jimin greets you at the door, arms open for you before enveloping you in a hug. “Kitten, you did phenomenal as always.” His tone was full of glee and you find yourself snorting as you hug him back. 

“Are the kids at the zoo with Jin?” You ask quietly, Jimin hums in agreement. You wrap your hand around his wrist before pulling him up the stairs. He raises an eyebrow before following you willingly. Your hand digs into your dress before pulling out the microphone and putting it into your husband's hand. 

Wordlessly you climb the sets of stairs, lips pressing into a tight line. “I didn’t read it. I waited to open it.” You notify your husband before finally ascending to the third floor. 

“Read what, baby?” He asks confused as you pull a letter out of your purse and handing it to him over your shoulder as you walk towards your bedroom. He groans gently as you open up the lion carved doors before slamming it shut behind him.

His fingers rip open the letter before pulling out the piece of stock card within it. He hugs you tightly, running his hand over your stomach before cursing quietly. 

“This can go one of two ways.” Jimin says before throwing the note onto the bed. His lips begin to dance over your shoulder. 

“They find out it was us who had him or they think the person who sent the letter has taken him.” You whisper to him. He replies with a nod before closing his eyes. “I’m praying for the latter.”

[mdzs-headcannons-n-stuff]

I read the A Girl Can Dream request and i was wondering if u can do a continuation of that? like maybe see this in LXC perspective or see what would happen after they've been conversating for so many times?

Whichever one u do, im sure id like it either way♡

Yes. Yes we can! (Also, disclaimer, I've gone thru all 5 versions of the story and so many fic, I cannot remember the actual way JGY handles the hired girls after his Dastardly Deeds, but that's in play here. Just so folks know!)

A Girl Can Dream- Part 2: Waking Nightmares

It begins, as their visits always do, with tea. But this time, Lan Xichen sits still and watches her hands shake as she lifts the tea pot, a few small droplets of the fragrant liquid splashing out to soak into his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," she rushes to say, reaching for a napkin to clean before the spill can stain, but he gently catches her hand to stop her.

"It is nothing," he says with a smile. Or rather, as much of a smile as could be appropriate, given the circumstances. After she settles again, he takes over the tea, smoothly pouring into both cups. "You seem tired, my friend. This all must be difficult for you."

'This', naturally, being the fact that not two weeks ago her employer had died in the middle of a.... Vigorous harem meeting. He was grateful to know she was never usually called on for the late Sect Leader Jin's licentious habits, but the man still paid her expenses and put her up in Koi Tower. It was fortunate that his sworn brother had agreed to keep her on so Lan Xichen could continue with their regular visits.

"... I trust you, Sect Leader Lan," she finally says, twisting her cup between her hands in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. "But...If something dire were to happen... Something truly despicable that might even be hard to believe... Would you trust me?"

At this, he pauses the action of bringing the tea to his lips, returning the cup to the table. He has been speaking with her every other week for many years now, his favored reception at Lanling, rivaled only with being met by the newly minted Sect Leader Jin himself. But even then- he does not leave until he has had the chance to visit. And she has been very good and honest with him in that time, through many types of strife and grief for both of them. Of course he trusts her. She is like a sister to him.

But he has never seen her like this. Cagey. On edge. Watchful and quiet like she was worried someone might be watching her. Might be listening.

"What has happened?" he asks seriously, reaching across the table to lay a comforting hand over hers. "Has someone hurt you?"

She shakes her head, grasping his fingers so tightly her knuckles turn white and she looks as though she might cry.

"I am afraid someone will though," she whispers, so soft he has difficulty hearing the words at all. "I have seen something I was clearly not meant to know, and if he finds out, he'll kill me. I know he will."

"Who?" Lan Xichen asks.

She takes a deep shuddering breath before she looks at him, the fear clear in her glassy eyes. "Jin Guangyao."

-

He sits, silent, the two of them carefully shrouded in privacy talismans, and he listens. Listens as she tells him her story, tears clinging to he lashes a she recounts finding one of the other girls had left behind a medicine she needed nightly, and following after the tracks from their departure to deliver it to her, only to be met with the view of a man in dark clothes with a cruel smile and a deformed hand and, beside him, Jin Guangyao, standing outside with the former sect leader's body and listening to the girls inside scream as the building burned down around them.

He listens a she tells him of her slipping away as silently as she could, back through the trees and into the city, rushing so she was back where she was supposed to be before the heir arrived, feigning grief and surprise.

How she has not felt safe since, constantly worrying that Jin Guangyao will realize, and send someone with ill intention to stage an "accident" for her as well.

He listens.

He listens, and he grieves.

-

For a time, he does nothing. He has asked his own questions, softly, gently, and in ways that seem innocuous, but he cannot rid himself of the memories of fear in her eyes, even as Jin Guangyao gives perfect, placating answers.

And then, just as he begins to settle and think this all might truly be a misunderstanding, it happens.

A walk through the city to return her to her staying place or next appointment, sometimes done when his sworn brother is busy, and then there is the slip of a knife, gone before the rush of red even meets against the collars- pink and gold of a finely crafted dress staining crimson, and she's collapsing in his arms.

He weeps.

He mourns.

-

She lives.

Barely... But she lives.

He could not bear to leave her there, in a den of beasts she fears, and he spirits her away, the strength of his core feeding her struggling body life until he touches down in Cloud Recesses, handing her over with mourning hands to his healers.

His friend lives, scarred and quieted, but free and safe in the mists of his protection.

But the perfection and trust he held for his sworn brother has died, shattered like a porcelain mask put under too much pressure.

-

He prepares his confrontation. He has gathered the evidence, witnesses, and all he would need for a proper trial, diligence having been paid its due. And not just for her- for all of them. For every dark secret his sworn brother has managed to hide. For the girls murdered after being used as tools. The civilians tortured to build resentments to weaponize. For the Wens who truly did not deserve to die. For Wei Wuxian, who, it seemed, truly only wanted justice, despite his own darkness.

For Nie Mingjue. Their sworn brother. Their Da-Ge. Their friend.

It pains him, rips his lungs apart like claws and leaves him to bleed out in his tears and well-beloved lies, but it must be done.

Be just.

Defend the helpless.

Punish the wicked.

These are the precepts his Uncle has raised him in, has raised the whole of the Lan Sect in. And as much as Lan Xichen loves him, he cannot excuse Jin Guangyao of his crimes. The dead will not rest until their victimhood is brought to light. Until Jin Guangyao accepts his punishments. He can't do what he's done in the past. Can't stand by and let the world simply happen around him.

As much as he loves him, there is a justice coming for Jin Guangyao that cannot, no, that will not be denied.

[infinite-hearts-333]

Broken pack, Broken wolf

Sander sides, Analogical (Eventually), Logan Angst, Werewolf AU

WARNING: really bad writing, angsty, lack of sleep and starvation, homophobia, swearing, I'll add to this-

Before 

Part 7- Can you fix what’s broken?

Logan spent around 5 hours fast asleep, draped across Virgil's form. He was like a giant puppy!!! Virgil was currently sitting cross legged in Logan's den thing, writing. Logan was curled into an impossible tight ball in Virgil's lap, and somehow fitted, despite being taller than the anxious side.

Virgil everyone in a while would look down to stare at Logan, and his glances switched from soft, happy and gentle, to curious, excited and pleased. He had summoned a new notebook, a dark purple covered one with stars and a wolf on the cover and began furiously scribbling down notes and sketching pictures. His non-dominant hand remained softly stroking Logan's perked left ear. Virgil didn't notice Logan awaking, sluggishly shifting and mumbling, eyes flickering under heavy eyelids. "V...virgil?" Rumbled Logan willing his eyes to open, his long tail to uncurl from around Virgil and stretch, flicking back and forth.

"Morning sleepy head. How... how do you feel?" Virgil asked softly, quickly placing the book down to focus on Logan. "Tired.... Somehow...." Huffed Logan, slightly pouting. Virgil chuckled, brushing Logan's midnight black hair out of his eyes. "Pat made soup for you." Virgil offered, helping the other into a sitting position who made no effort to reclaim their pride, slumping against virgil, head resting on virgil's shoulder and made a low loud groan. "Im not hungyyyyyy." whined Logan.

"Lo, you're skinny as a twig, you're eating something. There's no arguing." Virgil said firmly, scooping up the container of soup that Patton had dropped off not that long ago, popping the lid off, allowing steam to rise from the beverage. Logan whined, and tried to hide away from virgil, which didn't really work, given he hid using virgil. "Do i have to?" Whined Logan, trying to hide under Virgil's arm. "Yes, now, face me I'll help you, but if you be a big baby I might spill some on you. So sit up."

Logan made a low growling noise, and pulled himself off Virgil to turn around in his lap so he could still lean against Virgil. Virgil smiled lightly, and gently nuzzled the others' hair before dipping the spoon into the soup and lifting it up to Logan's lips. Logan quietly stared at it for a bit, tilting his head a little and Virgil realised he was sniffing it. Logan made a small huff after a while and opened his mouth, teeth clicking on the metal as he closed his mouth.

Virgil found himself staring at logan's lips as they moved, his cheeks unnoticeably becoming a scarlet red. He imagined what it would be like to rub his thumb over the bottom lip, to lightly press his own lips against them, to gently bite them and roll them between his teeth. Virgil silently groaned, donking his head against the back of Logan's neck. He was a hot mess. "Virgil?" Logan's voice was a lot clearer than before, more smooth and silky unlike the thick ruffness from just waking up. "Are you alright?"

"Yep. Peachy. Just, peachy." grumbled Virgil, refocusing on feeding logan. By half way Logan began to refuse. "I'm sorry... i just can't... or i might throw it up..." Virgil softly sighed. "You're not gonna get better unless you eat more. Just... a little bit more? For me?" Logan mumbled something that Virgil didn't pick up and continued to eat the soup. Virgil smiled, pausing to lightly pet logan's ears. "Thank you." Virgil didn't comment that Logan's tail began to furiously wag.

After a few more spoonfuls, Logan leaned back tucking his head back into the nook of Virgil's neck. "No more....." he mumbled. Virgil softly smiled. "Okay, you did such a good job." Logan was right there it would be so easy to just tilt his head up and kiss him. But he didn't. He couldn't. Cause.... That would be weird, and Logan probably wouldn't like it and he would hate him, oh god what if he already hates him, should he leave??? Would Logan prefer that-

"Virgil. You're pulling your panicked face again." Logan said softly. Virgil blinked, being slapped back into reality by Logan's soft velvet-like voice. (God bless Logan, Virgil could and would listen to the werewolve's voice all day and night if he could-) Virgil had come to realise that Logan had turned back around in virgil's lap, his arms draped over Virgil's shoulders and head resting on the start of his chest. Hickity heckity Logan was much closer than before, practically an inch away. Why, god why, in the name of gay jeusus must Virgil be tormented like this?!?!

Logan softly smiled, and nuzzled Virgil's chest, his eyes closing as he mumbled some soft gibberish under his breath. Virgil took that time to calm his poor gay heart, collect himself, and then carefully begin to neatly put away the soup for later, and then lightly combed a hand through logans tail. Which- virgil will add- was wagging happily, and it was so darn cute.

"Um... hey Lo?" Virgil asked softly. "Mhm?" hummed logan, pressing his face right into virgil neck and oh god why-

"Um-" Virgil had to cough to clear his throat so it wouldn’t jump an octave. "I was wondering if it was okay if i asked you about your species? Only if you're okay with it of course, I'm just really curious!" He quickly added.

Logan was quiet for a few minutes, pondering mostly likely, but virgil panicked internally, thinking he had done something wrong or offended him.

"Sure." he mumbled, going back to snuggling into virgil. Virgil swallowed thickly, grabbing onto the book he had been using to scribble done notes on werewolves in. "Ummmmm so, is your diet the same as a humans? Or are you more carnivores?"

Logan hummed, and virgil could feel his ears flicking as he thought about it. "A little more carnivores? Like I can eat raw meat no problem.... And some plants make werewolves sick."

Virgil began furiously scribbling the notes. "Okay... okay.... Are you fixated on one spot in a territory?"

Logan snorted, as if the idea was ridiculous. "No. P.... Packs move around between seasons, so food sources are never rare."

Virgil hummed, intrigued by the knowledge. "Um... touchy subject, sorry... but how do your packs work?"

Logan winced, taking a few seconds to swallow before answering. Virgil picked up on how his tail stopped moving and that Logan's grip tightened a tad. "Well.... My pack was a bit..." he chuckled, "Peculiar. Most of us left our birth pack, were kicked out, got separated or never had one to begin with."

"Oh yeesh.... Sorry lo." Virgil winced. Nice going idiot.

"It's fine, we had each other." Logan hummed. "Well, you start off in your birth pack, which is the pack your parents are in. By your 10 blue moon you must have decided to either stay in your birth pack or leave to make or join a new one."

"And you chose to leave?" Virgil asked scribbling down the words in a glittery purple pen.

"Mhm. my birth pack Alpha was homophobic, so i left. My parents supported me and helped me pack and get organised. They were the best." It was hard to see Logan's face, but Virgil could tell he was smiling.

"F*ck homophobic Alphas." Huffed Virgil. "F*ck homophobia in general." logan snorted.

"The first i was Empero. Her birth pack was genetically changed via artificial selection for the usage of humans." Logan continued, and virgil flipped to a new page, writing down this as well. He wanted to help logan any way possible, so knowledge about his pack may help.

"She was my Alpha, and I was the Beta.'' Virgil could practically hear the fond smile in Logan's voice. "Beta?" questioned Virgil. "Second in command. So when Empero cant take charge, the pack's responsibility falls to me. After Empero, we met Hazel. Hazel is a little ball of energy I swear to Artemis- she was separated from her birth pack by a flood. Then Dusk, they were kicked out because of how they spoke and thought. And then we found Jackson. Or really, Dusk found Jackson. He was kept in captivity for the sick desire of humans. They wounded him till he lost an arm, and if he ever did escape he wouldn't be accepted by normal packs. So Empero took him in."

"Whoa...." mumbled Virgil. "Your packs' been through a lot...."

Logan let out a bitter laugh that stung virgil even though it wasn't aimed at him. "Yer... they have. They were the best pack I could have ever asked for."

There was an awkward pause. "You know Lo... it's okay to miss them." virgil said softly, putting down his book to lightly rub circles on Logans back. Logan made a soft sad noise, and his grip tightened more, and in the corner of Virgil's eye he could see Logan's ears drop, laying flat on his head. "Is it?" he asked in the softest of voices.

"Of course. They were your family. Nothing's gonna change that. It's okay to miss them." virgil said softly, noticing how Logan slightly shivered when virgil pressed on his higher back.

"Is.... am I allowed to cry?" Logan's voice was even softer, more fragile. "Of course." Virgil said immediately, giving Logan's shoulder a little squeeze with his free hand. "Oh... okay then..." Logan's voice cracked at the end.

Virgil continued to rub circles on Logan's back, muttering small 'thats it' and 'it's okay' and 'i'm here' as Logan started to cry. He was silent, no sobbing or gasping for breath, just tears streaming down his face, soaking into virgil's shoulder. "I m-miss them..." Logan whimpered.

"I know Lo...... I know..."

??????

[megalony]

Free to go

This is another murderer! Ben imagine that I hope you will all enjoy and feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem​ @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid​ @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have just had a baby when Ben gets arrested in their home but he reassures (Y/n) that he’ll be home soon. He knows Gwilym doesn’t have enough evidence to convict him.

Enjoy.

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"You like that one?"

Following the sound of the rather mellow yet still gruff tone of voice, (Y/n) padded down the hall until she was leaning against the doorway to Owen's room. Her eyes found the source of the voice that she never normally heard in a soft and calming tone until recently. That voice was always abrasive, hard, cold and scratchy, it was never soft and mellow and calm like the sea gentle lapping at the sand.

It didn't take much guessing to see why his voice had that softer, smoother edge to it. He could hardly speak in his usual uncaring tone of voice to the newborn in his arms, that wouldn't be the best start if he let his son see him as cold and uncaring from day one.

A smile flowed onto (Y/n)'s otherwise tired features as she stayed in the doorway, watching the scene unfold in front of her. Ben was leaning his hips against the crib behind him wearing trousers and socks but no shirt. He had Owen resting on his right arm making the baby look so much smaller and fragile and when he tensed his arm Owen almost disappeared from sight.

The baby boy had his eyes half open and his tiny hand pressed on Ben's chest like he was patting his new tattoo.

Ben now had one tattoo on his chest compared to the rest of his body, he had one on the back of his neck, one on each knuckle on both hands, one on his upper right arm near his shoulder, one on his left upper thigh and a rather large, extensive tattoo spreading from between his shoulder blades right down near his hips. He for some reason didn't have any tattoos on his chest until now and it had confused (Y/n) why he would keep his chest clear when he went so far as to have the rest of his body lathered in ink.

Sometimes she did wonder if his chest was clear of ink because he had been cut and stabbed there a few times. He had a scar on his lower stomach on the right side from being stabbed a few years back and he had small slash marks from fights he'd had in the past. It made (Y/n) wonder if he didn't have tattoos there in case someone stabbed or cut or even shot him and ended up damaging any tattoos he may have.

Ben had Owen's date of birth on the upper left side of his chest along with his footprints taken when he was born.

Despite the tattoo being new and the skin all around it being as red as a tomato, Ben didn't flinch or look phased when Owen touched it or even when (Y/n) had touched it before. (Y/n) had been with Ben when he got that tattoo and it amazed her how he didn't flinch, pull away, grit his teeth or even tense. He didn't swear either, he looked like he could feel no pain at all and it made (Y/n) curious as to how Ben would have reacted when he got the tattoo on his back.

"Is he okay?" (Y/n) watched Ben glance up at her with a smile before he turned around to lay Owen back down since he was practically asleep in his arms now.

"He's fine." The words barely passed through Ben's lips before he found (Y/n) suddenly standing in front of him, her arms wrapping around his torso so she could burrow into his chest. She knew well enough now to know that she could lean on or brush against any new tattoo Ben got and he wouldn't flinch or make a comment about it.

"I think that one's my favourite." (Y/n) mumbled quietly, moving her head so she could kiss the latest edition to Ben's growing ink collection. Her eyes briefly looked over at the newborn beside them before she looked back up at Ben who looked very amused.

"Where shall I get your name?" Ben leaned back in order to look over tilt his chin down, his eyes scanning over himself as a shark-tooth grin flooded his face.

Ben had pleaded with (Y/n) for the past six months to let him get her name tattooed somewhere but (Y/n) was very against the idea. It was sweet and she knew it would make Ben happy, he wanted her name because now they had a baby together but she couldn't let him do that. If they broke up Ben wouldn't be very pleased to have her name inked on his skin as a permanent reminder of her. Ben insisted they wouldn't break up and that even if they did, he wouldn't mind still having her name on his skin because she was the mother of his child. She wouldn't exactly be out of his life if they did break up.

"No."

"Baby please, you know you'd secretly love it-"

"Not if we break up I wouldn't and neither would you." (Y/n) pressed her chin into Ben's chest so she could look up at him. He looked a mix between devilish and disgruntled at the response he didn't want.

"What if I did it anyways? I think your name would look good on my wrist." Ben removed one arm from (Y/n)'s waist to show her his wrist. He wasn't giving up, he was having her name tattooed somewhere eventually, he just had to wear her down first to get her approval. He knew it wouldn't be in his best interest if he did it anyway when she told him not to.

"Maybe in a year or two." (Y/n) could already guess that she would wear down and give in just to stop him from pestering her eventually.

"That's my girl, come on, let's leave him to sleep."

(Y/n) didn't quarrel, she followed Ben out of the room and downstairs until they were heading into the living room. She slowly sat down on the sofa before turning to lay out instead, leaning her head on the pillow resting against the arm of the sofa as she felt like she was sinking into the cushions until she was engulfed and disappeared. Towards the end of the pregnancy with Owen, (Y/n) had made a den of sorts on the sofa where she had spent most of her time and she kept the pillows and cushions here since her back was still sore, as was her stomach.

(Y/n) opened her eyes when she felt Ben lifting her legs so he could sit down with her, resting her legs over his lap and she could see he had shrugged one a shirt. Small shivers ran up and down her legs when Ben's hands absentmindedly ran up and down her exposed legs and up to her thighs.

They had only been home from the hospital with Owen for roughly a week now and since they weren't going out anywhere or having visitors round, (Y/n) didn't see any reason to dress up or dress properly. For the past few days she had either been wearing her pyjamas or like she was now, wearing one of Ben's oversized shirts and some shorts.

Owen was a surprise, he wasn't planned for either of them and it had worried (Y/n) in the beginning that Owen wouldn't be part of Ben's plan. He truly didn't seem like the type of person who would want kids, he worked a lot, he got into fights and he blackmailed, killed and terrorised people. Children didn't seem like they would fit into that plan of life but to (Y/n)'s utter surprise, Ben had been happy about this.

Despite the work he did and his cold exterior and heart and the seven years difference between him and (Y/n), he was happy and fine with this. They moved in together a few months into the pregnancy and (Y/n) slowly got to know how Ben worked and his different way of life.

(Y/n) didn't know how long she'd been asleep for or when she fell asleep but when she tiredly opened her eyes and looked around, the tv was on but Ben was no longer sitting next to her. A small sense of panic started to dwell in her chest until she realised she could hear him clattering about in the kitchen, most likely getting a cup from the cupboard to make a drink.

Waking up and finding Ben wasn't there was always a panic signal to (Y/n), it made her wonder if he had slipped out quickly for an emergency at work or if he wasn't there at night she had the sudden fear that someone had broken in and he was trying to sort it out. (Y/n) wasn't sure why, but waking up or coming home to find Ben wasn't there scared her. He was her safety net, she felt safe and secure when he was there and she couldn't even try to go to sleep unless he was there too.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, (Y/n) tried to wake herself up a bit more as she moved into a sitting position. She needed to get herself a drink and then see what time it was in case it was time to give Owen a bottle, unless she had been asleep for a while and Ben had already fed him by now.

Listening to the tv worked wonders in bringing (Y/n) back around and shaking off the sleep from her system. Once she felt properly awake and had regained all her thoughts and senses, (Y/n) pushed herself up to her feet just as the she heard someone knocking rather hurriedly at the front door.

"I got it." She called out to Ben, trying to keep the tiredness from her voice as she slowly headed out into the hall.

(Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair, catching her nails on a few of the knots and tangles as she tried to make her hair seem less of a bird's nest on her head. Her brows furrowed the closer she got to the dark oak brown door when she realised just how harshly someone was banging on the door to be let in.

The first month of living with Ben sent (Y/n) into numerous panic attacks when he had his workers turning up out of the blue and during the night, it was hard to get used to so many people coming round but at least Ben gave her some kind of warning beforehand now.

Reaching the door, (Y/n) twisted the key that was already situated in the lock but before she even pulled the handle down all the way, the door was suddenly pushed with so much force that the sharp edge of the door rammed into (Y/n)'s chest and stomach and just grazed the bottom of her chin from how close she had been standing to the door.

(Y/n) choked on a shriek as her knees caved in the moment she pushed her weight onto the door so it closed in whoever's face was on the other side. Her knees pushed against the wood, as did her forehead that was pulsing and had she been in a cartoon, stars would have been swirling over her head. A ragged breath pushed through (Y/n)'s nose as she tried to blink away the dizziness and breathe through the pain swelling in her chest and stomach that was already tender as it was.

When the words 'Open up' and 'police' hit her ears, (Y/n) had the urge to lock the door and keep them out but with the force they used to try and get in, she knew they weren't likely to simply go away.

Forcing herself to stand up properly on shaking legs, (Y/n) coiled forward just a little to relieve the pain in her chest and stomach.

"Baby, what the fuck?" Ben's eyes were wild with confusion and worry when he left the kitchen, freezing for a moment when he noticed the way (Y/n) was almost collapsing in front of the door and the scream she just let out that almost made him burn his hand from shock.

Ben didn't receive a response as (Y/n) moved just enough to let the police barge the door open all the way, sending her stumbling backwards. Her free hand quickly reached out for the shoe rack next to her to steady herself as her other hand pressed to her stomach that was burning like she'd been stabbed. Not wanting to be trampled down, (Y/n) pushed her uncoordinated feet to trip over one another to move forwards past the stairs and into the hall.

(Y/n) was grateful when Ben reached out and held onto her to stop her from falling flat on her face. His hands slipped easily around her waist and pulled her over to him until she was leaning into his chest and she could feel his lips pressing into her hair.

But as soon as Ben's arms were around her, (Y/n) could feel hands roughly pulling and grabbing at her arms and waist, trying to tear her away from him. (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and her nails scraped against Ben's arm that she was clinging to but it did no good as she was still torn away from him and when her back collided with the wall she slumped down to her knees, blacking out if only for two seconds.

She could feel her stomach churning like she was going to be sick, all of the blood was now rushing to her head that felt like it was being squeezed until it was about to burst like a grape. She could hear Ben's dark, violent tone warning whoever just pushed her into the wall not to do it again and (Y/n) knew Ben would have launched himself at the policeman if there were no other officers here. He couldn't take down all four officers at once and someone would radio for backup if he tried. Ben could assault, bully, threaten, blackmail and kill anyone he liked but when it came to the police it was tricky.

They were here to arrest him and he couldn't harm them when he was being arrested or they had reason to caution and charge him. He couldn't give them evidence to use against him, they struggled as it was to find anything to pin on Ben and that was how he needed it to stay.

When (Y/n) tried to stand up, a pair of large, rough hands grabbed her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. When the man's hand caught on the oversized shirt she was wearing and made it ride up at the side, (Y/n) was thankful she decided to wear pyjama bottoms with Ben's shirt rather than just her underwear.

Her eyes managed to focus enough for her to see Ben ramming his elbow into an officer's stomach, giving himself the chance to pull away from the banister he had been pushed up against so that they could try and arrest him. He wasn't going to make a break for it or resist arrest but he wasn't being pushed into the banister for that. They were barging in here because they knew he was dangerous and a killer but they should know from previous experience that Ben always let them arrest him, he came willingly with them. They had no need to be violent with him or (Y/n).

"Go check upstairs, make sure it's clear." The officer standing next to the door ordered to a man who was hanging around the stairs like he was observing the scene, not knowing where to chip in.

(Y/n)'s frantic eyes locked with Ben's for a split second before he nodded and tipped his head in the direction of the stairs. He held his arm out in front of the officer standing next to her, preventing him from grabbing at (Y/n) when she stumbled over to the stairs and swung round, losing her energy as panic took over when she tried to hurry and clamber up the stairs.

"Get off me!" (Y/n)'s voice wasn't as firm or demanding as she willed it to be but there was a firm, growling tone to her voice when the officer grabbed at her legs to try and stop her since she was practically crawling up on her hands and knees.

"Get the fuck off her, she's going to get the baby." Ben managed to squeeze his arm through the gaps between the poles of the banister and he roughly grabbed the young man's wrist, yanking his arm away from (Y/n) so she could carry on up the stairs.

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she got to the top of the stairs and she didn't have the will to push them away.

(Y/n) had never had the police turn up to her home before, then again she'd never lived with Ben until a few months ago. The thought of police turning up at their home was unrealistic in (Y/n)'s mind considering how Ben was always telling her he was going to keep his work separate from home life, especially now that they had Owen. All his dealings happened at the club and she knew he'd been arrested there once before, it was a natural assumption that any arrests or dealings with the police would happen at the club, not at home.

A big part of (Y/n) didn't want to venture back downstairs to the chaos, she just wanted to sit in Owen's room and cradle her baby boy to her chest, trying to imagine all of this as some fiction of her imagination or a nightmare. But she knew she had to go down, she had to see Ben and find out what he wanted her to do.

Holding Owen against her chest and stomach made (Y/n) whimper in pain but she couldn't hold him loosely, she needed him pressed against her to reassure herself he was okay and to make sure none of the officer's downstairs would try and take him off her. She cuddled the frightened newborn against her chest with his head leaning on her shoulder and his blanket wrapped neatly around his very small, fragile frame.

Her legs were trembling when she shakily walked back down the stairs, pulling away from the officer waiting at the bottom who tried to reach out for her. (Y/n) leaned against the banister, her frightened eyes watching as Ben held his hands out in front of him with a face like thunder as he silently allowed them to arrest him. He knew there was no gain in trying to resist.

Ben yanked his arm out of the officer's hold, he didn't need to be held like a toddler to walk and he was hardly going to run away with his hands cuffed in front of him. It would be a big giveaway that he was resisting arrest if he went out into the street like this and he wouldn't get very far.

When he reached (Y/n), Ben very slowly lifted his cuffed hands up until he could loop them over (Y/n)'s head, tangling his hands into the back of her hair with his arms resting on her shoulders. He stood as close as he could get to her without squashing Owen between them who was shrieking and wailing like it was the end of the world but then again, he didn't know or understand what was going on. Ben pressed his lips to the side of (Y/n)'s head for a moment, feeling her hiccuping through silent cries and she was shaking against him. He darted his eyes around before he lowered his head and turned until his lips were pressed to her ear, he didn't want anyone hearing what he was about to tell her.

"Call Joe tell him what's happened, he'll get my lawyer to brief you on the phone and the guys will hang around, make sure no one's watching or coming here. They can't arrest or talk to you at all so don't let any other police in. Call your sister, don't stay here alone. I love you, I won't be long." Ben pressed a deep kiss to her lips before he moved his arms and took a step back, waiting for (Y/n) to nod that she understood before he made any move to walk out of the house.

He needed his lawyer to talk to (Y/n) so if the police tried to ask her anything, she knew the best answers to give that would keep her totally out of this and he needed the boys to know what was happening so they could stay close to the house and make sure nothing happened to (Y/n) or Owen.

And Ben didn't want (Y/n) staying here on her own if he was held overnight because he could be gone for up to twenty four hours in custody and she wasn't well. He couldn't have her on her own, hurt and shaken up and needing to care for Owen. Ben also knew how (Y/n) was when it came to sleeping, his way of life heightened her anxiety and if he was out late and came home past midnight, she would be waiting up for him.

(Y/n)'s sister despised Ben and would try to get (Y/n) to leave but Ben would rather have Clare try and do that than have (Y/n) left on her own.

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"Am I free to go yet?" There was something so snide and bitter about Ben's tone that caused Gwilym to look at him in surprise when he walked into the interview room. He was expecting to look over and see voids in Ben's pupils that were alight with a fire of anger, he thought he would be met with snarling lips and bared teeth and clenched hands slamming down on the desk.

But all he could see was someone who looked like they were playing cards and had a royal flush hidden in their deck. Ben had one brow raised, his head bent to the side at an odd angle and a smile that was so unnerving, Gwilym had to stop himself from shivering.

This was the fourth time he had been able to both arrest and bring Ben into custody for questioning and he was determined not to let him slip through his grasp this time. Everyone knew all the crimes Ben committed and Ben knew they knew, but they never had the evidence or witnesses to gain enough grounds to arrest him for good. They could only bring him in for questioning and watch as he wriggled free and walked away. Sometimes he went straight out and committed another crime they couldn't pin on him, sometimes he laid low for a while and other times he disappeared off the radar and moved away.

Gwilym couldn't let him go again.

"Afraid not, Mr Hardy. We need to ask you some questions about a murder, but you already know that."

"The officer did mention something like that. I've been here for five hours, if you could ask me quickly so I can go home that would be nice." The way Ben smiled looked so genuine yet so fake that it was almost confusing, he looked like he was being genuine yet he wanted Gwilym to see he was being fake to rattle him.

Ben leaned back in his seat and straightened his spine, letting it click back into place before he sat up straight and rested his arms on the table, linking his hands together.

"Do you know this man?" Gwilym pulled out a brown paper file and took out three different pictures, placing them neatly on the table in front of his suspect who they both knew was guilty beyond belief. One picture was a mugshot of the victim, and the other two pictures were taken from the crime scene where he had been beaten to a pulp before being shot.

It unnerved and angered Gwilym how Ben pulled the pictures closer to take a proper look like he was wracking his brain as if he were a witness helping them with their crime instead of the murderer trying to get away with it. He even glanced over to his lawyer sat beside him before he looked back over at Gwilym.

"Yes, he's called Robert, he was a member of my gym." Ben could see his answer startled Gwilym. This was the first time he had ever admitted he knew someone they brought him in to question about. He had no reason to say he knew them because he already knew there was no evidence to tie him to his own crime but he thought he would toy with them for a bit.

"Was?"

"I don't think he'll be coming back, do you?" Ben pointed at the middle photo that showed the bullet hole in his forehead.

"He was seen going into your gym on the day he died. No one saw him leave and at some point in the evening he was murdered and his body was dumped not too far from your place of work."

"When was that?" Ben folded his arms over his chest, looking rather bored now like he was done playing a game and wanted to move onto something else now. Gwilym was trying to catch him out, make him give himself an alibi without them giving him enough information but Ben wasn't stupid enough to fall into their little traps.

"Two weeks ago, Tuesday nineteenth. We have a witness come forward who says they saw you leaving the scene where we found him."

"Did they identify me by you giving them a picture, did they describe me or did they give you my name?" Ben hardly looked phased about a witness placing him at a murder scene and it was really getting under Gwilym's skin now.

Ben knew that there were officers who would stoop so low as to find someone and show them a picture of Ben and prompt them to say they saw him there. But if someone just described him it wasn't definite proof he was there and if they gave his name it was more unreliable because a lot of people knew him and wanted him in prison.

"The witness described you, then identified a picture of you."

Gwilym pulled another piece of paper from his file and placed it in front of Ben, allowing him to see the description that was given by their so called witness. They gave a description of Ben's hair, a vague description of his face, approximate height and clothes.

"They saw a man walking the street at ten o'clock at night in a black coat and trousers. They didn't stop and talk to whoever they saw and they were on the other side of the road. Your witness hasn't described my client's various tattoos that could have been seen and they didn't get close enough to see his face. This isn't definite proof my client was there."

Ben's lawyer handed the paper back to Ben, sounding like he was ending the discussion there and Ben couldn't help the grin that took over his face. It could have been anyone, the fact that it actually was him made no difference because Gwilym couldn't definitely prove it in a court of law. They would see the time, know how dark it would have been and the distance the witness was from Ben and know they were only guessing.

"We found shoe prints at the scene and cigarette stubs at the scene."

When more pieces of paper were placed in front of Ben, he spared them a glance, focusing more on the sticky notes attached to them giving information about the shoe size, the type of shoe and the type of cigarettes they found.

"Sadly, I can't fit into a size ten converse, I take eleven and a half size and converse aren't my thing. Plus, I only smoke menthol cigarettes."

Ben had to admit Gwilym had managed to find some actual evidence at this crime scene, but sadly for him, none of it linked Ben to the scene. He was careful that if he was the one who did the killing, nothing was left behind that linked him there. No one saw him do it, no fingerprints, DNA, pieces of clothing or traces were left behind. He wouldn't be so stupid to leave his actual cigarettes at the scene, they must have been from Adam who was along with Ben when they killed Robert.

"Do you have any tangible evidence that links my client to the scene?"

"Does your client have an alibi for that day?" Gwilym countered, trying not to show that this was his last resort. If Ben didn't have a watertight alibi Gwilym would tear it apart and keep him here for as long as he could. He was going to do everything he could to pin this one to him.

"I was home with my girlfriend."

"All day?"

"She was nine months pregnant, do you really think I'd leave her alone during the evening to go kill someone when she could go into labour at any moment?" It was a good enough excuse and alibi, (Y/n) had been very close to her due date and Ben hadn't been in the club for over two weeks so he could be home with her. Things got out of hand at the club so he left for one hour to sort Robert out, but Gwilym wasn't to know that.

"So if we talk to her, she'll confirm you never left the house that day? And the day before and the day after, what about then?"

"The day before we didn't leave the house, Tuesday we didn't go anywhere because she felt ill and if you ask our midwife, she'll confirm I called her at two in the morning on Wednesday because (Y/n)'s water broke. We were in hospital for the next five days."

Ben had one of the best alibi's going for this murder, he had (Y/n).

He left the house on Tuesday at five in the afternoon to sort Robert out, let his men move and dispose of the body later and after that Owen was born. There was no way Gwilym could pin this one on Ben, he had no evidence leading to Ben and he had a watertight alibi and no proper witnesses to place him at the scene. Their only witness didn't even see Ben because he didn't move Robert's body from the club. He was in the clear.

"Right... bear with me whilst I go and get that confirmed by your girlfriend." Gwilym pushed his chair back but he didn't have time to stand up before Ben's lawyer was speaking.

"I've already got the midwife's contact details and I think talking to miss (Y/l/n) should be done by a different officer once I've had chance to speak to her."

"Why do you think that?"

"From what my client tells me, when you forced entry into his home miss (Y/l/n) was injured and detained without cause. I need to talk with her and see if she's pressing charges before any officer questions her in a case she isn't involved with."

There was no way that Ben was letting Gwilym or his officers get away with how they had barged into his home and hurt (Y/n), even if they didn't intend to. They ought to realise by now that Ben let them arrest him, he let them put him in custody because he always knew he would get out, just like he was today. They had no reason to barge in like that and then to try and detain (Y/n) when she did nothing wrong. Ben wasn't letting that drop, he was making sure Gwilym thought twice before he even dared to come to Ben's home again, let alone try and arrest him in that manner.

When Gwilym looked over at Ben sitting across from him, the shit-eating grin on Ben's face said it all.

He was walking away free this time too.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

On The Prowl... Ending!!!

Pt 9

Summary. Reader is a human female researching beastmen in the jungle. She thinks they dont exist only to be captured by a purple panther. He brings her to his den where his pack is . And they only want one thing. Kittens & Puppies

Shinso. Purple panther.

Bakugo. Lion

Stain. Black wolf

Todoroki. Leopard.

Aizawa. Jaguar

Shinso was still off on his own with the four kittens. Watching them mew and walk into each other. They looked very helpless, fragile...

Meanwhile you were now sitting up staring at the fire holding the deer fur close around yourself. The frozen leaves Shoto slipped between your thighs had melted and you were sore, able to walk, but sore. Bakugo would still not look at you or talk to you, he just stared at the fire, his left ear twitching in irritation . If anything he should be mad a Todoroki not you.

Chizome brought you some deer and you just stared at it for a minute then up at the big wolf. He blinked asking if you were gonna eat it . You shook your head but said thank you anyway. The wolf sat down on the other side of the fire to eat the deer. You were hungry but... not for deer. Was Todoroki still waiting for Shinso? Carfully you turned to your side , winching from the slight pain you had in your stomach , the fire now on your side felt soothing, making you quickly forget the pain .

Todoroki was still waiting by the den, his tail flicking every few minutes. You turned back to face the fire . You had a nasty feeling in the pit of your stomach, were your kittens alive? Dead? You did not get a good look at them either so you had no idea what color they were. You prayed they were purple..for Shinso’s sake.

Shinso returned awhile later stopping by Todoroki for a minute to see his reaction . He then made his way to you dropping the kittens on your lap. You jumped catching them finally being able to see them.

“They need names...” he said sitting next to you.

You just about cried. Purple. Four purple kittens. All fussing with eachother on your lap. They could smell you and sense your emotions. They all cried out and you dropped the blanket hugging them crying hard. Shinso apologizes for how he treated you during the pregnancy and you didint really hear him. You were so caught up with the kittens. Your kittens.

“So what now. Im not waiting” Bakugo snapped over at you and Shinso.

Todoroki came over too and Chizome looked up from his deer. You wiped your eyes and placed a kitten on your breast to nurse them, you pet the other two who had to wait. You were scared, you couldint have more right away like this. The kittens needed you.

“I was thinking about that.” The panther purred. “What if we leave this jungle, go where Aizawa was.”

“Thats where this one came from” Chizome said pointing at you.

You switched the kittens out trying not to listen.

“I think it is time to leave, but will you be joining us ? Shinso?” Todoroki asked.

“No, i need to go somewhere where Aizawa wont find my family.”

“But you broke the bastards legs” Bakugo added

“He will heal, and come for me.” Shinso said. “If you want to leave now, then go. I cant go till Y/N is able.”

Bakugo shoved himself up walking to Shinso looking down at him growling. Shinso looked up , giving him a tired smile. The lion scoffed walking away. “Whatever, im going. I dont care if you two follow me or not. Dont you dare get in trouble though!”

“Ill try not too” the panther said smirking.

Chizome got up and Shinso nodded at him, Todoroki was about to follow the lion and wolf but stopped to look back at Shinso.

“Id rather not have us split up.” He said calmly.

“Its for the best Todoroki.”

“You were a good Alpha.”

“Thank you, Todoroki”

The leopard vanished into the jungle and everything was quiet. All the kittens were asleep curled up on eachother in your lap. You still had tears in your eyes. You didint question anything, they were purple. Thats all that matterd. Shinso put his arm around you discussing where you all could go, it had to be someplace secluded, protected.

“Shin..”

“Yes?”

“I dont care where it is. I have everything i need.”

He smiled nuzzling your face purring loud. Gently he picked you up and you picked up the kittens . He brought you into his cave laying you down and snuggling all of you all night.

A few days later you were able to travel , you had a grass dress on now and Shinso got you materials to craft a basket with vine straps to carry the kittens. They could see and hear now and were running all around your feet when they werent in the basket.

Bagheera. The oldest. The self acclaimed sibling protector.

Kovu. The second oldest. The independant one.

Kazu,The third one. The lazy one.

Katsu. The fourth one. And the one with the biggest temper.

It would be a long journey to your new home. And you could not wait to share the rest of your life with your family at your new forever home.

••••

A/N. Ahhh!!!! I love this Series! It had to end though,i hope you enjoyed the read !!! Thank you for sticking with me during this ♥️

All parts can be found under the OnTheProwl tag.