#in other news would you rather be the city or country mouse

[riaki]

hii! yk that trend on tiktok where the girl asks her man to name a woman and gets suspicious when he says a name beside hers? i would like to request that with gojo please! thanksss

name a woman | satoru gojo x f!reader thanks for ur req! here u go <3 slightly different from what u asked but i hope it works | cw fem reader + petnames, slightly suggestive, he's kinda a scumbag lol

it's a lazy saturday afternoon when you get betrayed by your boyfriend.

you're sitting at the round table on the patio of satoru's place; you always forget just how rich his parents are whenever you're around him. if not for that stupidly expensive cologne he wears and that one time you happened to see the price tag on the new pair of sunglasses he bought himself, you would've been blissfully unaware. after all, for a rich kid, he's pretty grounded. at least, when he isn't tooting his own horn.

but being here on the gojo estate, it hits you in the face like a ton of bricks; forces you to accept the fact that your boyfriend is loaded.

the breeze is gentle as it runs through your hair, but satoru's absentminded touch as he drums his fingers along your arm is more than you could ever ask for. it's the little things like this; habits of his that make you love him all the more. the way he'll throw his arms around your neck and latch onto to give you a big hug from behind, or carry you around like you're a little kid when you're worn out and you can't feel your feet from a day's worth of walking.

there's seven empty juice boxes littered across the table and a half-empty one in your hand; the paper straw is already folding in on itself, which makes it much harder to get any of the remnants at the bottom of the carton. at least the drink is nice and sweet; refreshing lime on a sunny day.

"why did they stop giving these things plastic straws? it's so soggy now," you complained, shifting in your seat as you shook the juice box. it did not relent, or give up any of its juice. you make a face, and you could swear it makes one back.

satoru glances up at you, tearing his attention away from his phone as a small grin appears on his lips. "don't you know? it's good for the environment. obviously, you're not in tune with nature like i am." he snickers, adjusting his shades on the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to the screen between his fingers, withdrawing the hand that was on your arm to form a cushion for his chin on the crook of his elbow.

"oh, [name], [name]! you're hurting us! woe be upon thy and thou foul plastic tomfoolery." your dignified lover puts his phone down, straightening up to wave his arms about as if he's one of those inflatables you see in front of car dealerships. you think he's trying to be a tree, but you're not entirely sure. "hear that? the plants are calling you," he grins, pausing his arm waves to nudge you in the shoulder.

"stop doing that, satoru. you look stupid. the maids will think you've lost it," you chuckled, kicking his leg in jest as you leaned back in your seat and took another sip from the juice box.

"you're one to talk." he scoffs, and you glare at him, giving him a pointed look. he just giggles, sticking his tongue out before making a grab at your juice box. you swipe it out of his reach before he can wiggle his fingers any closer, and the way his expression falls an apple from a tree makes a laugh bubble from your throat. unlike the apple, it's not gravity that's pulled him down; you never indulge him, because you like making him chase. he enjoys it— he thinks it's good that you're playful. but it's annoying when he's thirsty and it's not his fault those juice boxes are so damn small.

"toru, i have a question for you. answer well and the rest of this is yours," you said, shifting in your seat to cross your legs and face him, propping the juice box on your knee. there's not much inside, but you know he'll scavenge for every last drop, like he's some raccoon. it's cute, you think.

he perks up immediately, turning his phone off and mirroring your position in his own seat; his limbs are slightly too long and too lanky to fit proportionately in the seat, but he doesn't seem to mind when his knee bumps against yours.

"yes? what is it, my sweetpea?" he grins, enjoying the sour expression on your face. it seems the lime juice has worked its way into your system.

you scowl. "sweetpea? what kind of nickname is that?" it's cute, though, so you don't say anything more. you stare at him for a moment, taking in his features; the wide smirk on his lips, the way his hair gently ruffles around his face like passing clouds.

you sigh; resigned, as you roll your eyes.

"name a woman."

"...what?"

he tilts his head to the side, staring at you through his lashes, an inquisitive squint that makes him look a lot like a white cat.

you laugh a little, and his grin widens. "you heard me. name a woman. any; the first that comes to your mind."

he hums in acknowledgement, making a show out of tapping his chin with a finger in deep thought, a mock pensive expression twisting his lips down before he looks at you again, a teasing glint in his azure eyes that gives you a terrible sense of foreboding.

"kuroki meisa."

...

now it's your turn to ask. "what?"

he shrugs, a shit-eating grin on his face yet again as he tilts his shades down to give you a look that he knows will get you bothered.

"you heard me, princess. i named a woman. the first that comes to my brilliant mind, right? now how about giving me that juice box—" he starts, reaching forward and leaning in his seat to make another grab at the box perched on your knee. you yank it away from him just in time; his fists close around cool air and he groans loudly.

"you're no fun." he pouts, biting the inside of his cheek.

"satoru! who the hell is kuroki meisa? you were supposed to say me! or your mom, at least. or shoko." you glared at him, turning your nose up and refusing to acknowledge him as he pouts and crosses his arms over his chest like some petulant child who got his ipad confiscated.

"i did what you told me to do! you can't be mad at me for that." he protests, squirming in his seat.

a lightbulb goes off in your head; normally, that'd be a good thing, but the way you're gritting your teeth so hard he thinks your jaw might crack doesn't bode well. "wait, don't tell me. is she another one of those models? satoru, i swear—" you start, but he cuts you off hastily, making a mad grab at the juice box and coming out successful and surprisingly unscathed.

"she is." he says sheepishly, toying with the sad paper straw before attempting to take a sip. he struggles, but eventually you hear the tell tale sign of liquid moving up the hollow straw. you're too busy seething to notice, though.

"gojo." you say his surname, and he flinches a little, an overwhelming sense of icy dread sinking its claws into his shoulders as his grin turns into one of nervous panic. it's familiar; the one he experienced when you'd found one of your missing bras in the drawer compartment underneath his king sized mattress (that he always complains about feeling ten times emptier without you in it).

"yes, my sweet?" satoru's about to face you when something hits him square in the face— with all malicious intent and cutting cardboard corners. seven juice boxes on the table plus one half-filled one has now become six on the table, a half-filled in his hand, and another on the floor. you're glaring daggers at him, still posed to strike in your chair. he rubs his cheek, grinding his teeth together and grumbling before he looks at you again with an extremely disappointed expression on his face. "the plants, baby! if they didn't already dislike you, they sure do now." he huffs. but with the way you're looking at him, he wouldn't put it past you to throw the table at him next.

"give me my juice box back, you brat." you hiss, and he laughs, staring down at you like you're some cute little zoo animal. he wants to dote on you; he can't help it! you're so adorable, with your cheeks all red and your bottom lip sticking out in a little endearing pout. he wants nothing more than to drop the juice box, drag you onto his lap and squish your pretty face until you start complaining and stop him with a kiss.

satoru knows he won't get anywhere if you're still pissed at him, though, so he at least has to try and make amends.

"aww, don't worry, baby! you're the only woman i think of when i—"

"that's enough out of you, traitor."

satoru just grins and finishes off the juice box, relishing in the look of mild anguish on your face as you watch the cardboard crinkle inward like some black hole sucked it in; a telltale sign of what was half-filled a moment ago becoming completely empty; a dry well that was once your reservoir of life. you retreat back into your seat, hugging your knees to your chest and putting on your best, heart-tugging frown. it doesn't take long for satoru to notice when you do, and he immediately melts, tossing the juice box aside to the poor plants and leaning forward to cup your cheek in his palm.

"what's wrong, love? you know i only did it to see you upset," he chuckles, and you can't help but smile before remembering you're supposed to be pissed.

"that was the last juice box, satoru. and i'm still thirsty. and a little hungry." you sighed, rubbing your forehead. you felt a little guilty. "but it's okay."

satoru sighs, before pulling away and standing up, stretching his arms and cracking his back with exaggerated movements, like he's making letters out of his body.

"alr-ight! up with you, then. let's go to the market." he grins, lending you a hand and nudging your foot with his. you stare up at him with those sweet big eyes, and he feels himself melt a little.

"are you sure? they're expensive—“

"shut it, sweetpea. it's all on me. how does katsu sound?"

your face lights up, and so does his. after all, he'd do anything for his sweet girl— no model could ever compare to the very sun of his life; the brightest star in his sky.

not proofread i hope we��re not surprised my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[xtreklx]

I love yous ~ Ninja Turtles x reader

Scenario: bayverse Turtles x reader

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: SFW, fluff + angst

A/N: I don't really know what to call this; I guess it's a drabble? (no, it's a scenario, idiot <3 -- future Lulu) basically, I had these thoughts for scenarios in which you and your turtle of choice exchange your first 'I love you's. Enjoy my scribbly nonsense :)

__________

You met the turtles over a year ago, when they saved you from the Foot Clan. You had gotten lost on your way home from a new job when the Clan had pulled you off the street and into a warehouse. When the turtles had shown up, the Clan ran away and set the place on fire, leaving you behind. The turtles saved you just in time, and took you to the lair to tend to your injuries. After, a friendship had quickly grown between you all, and you developed feelings for one turtle in particular. The feelings were mutual, and you and your turtle started dating around six months ago. Your feelings for each other have been growing stronger and stronger everyday, but you both have yet to say the three magic words...

~ Leonardo ~

Leonardo considers that this may be the most stressed out he has ever been.

You'd think that that would be a difficult level of stress to reach, considering that him and his family were mutants tasked with the daily protection of the most populous city in the country. But he was definitely approaching that level, as he had no idea where the current most important thing in his life, you, were at.

You were supposed to be on your way to the lair, last he spoke to you, which was normally a 10 minute journey because of how close you lived. But that was more than 45 minutes ago, and you were not responding to his calls or texts, so it was safe to say that he was freaking out. He would normally go up to the surface and look for you himself, but it was currently the middle of the afternoon, and he couldn't risk being seen. At least, not yet. He was currently in the lab pestering Donatello, who was trying his best to track down your cell phone location.

"Okay, I need a few minutes for my system to ping the nearby cell towers and look for her signal. Once that happens, I can narrow down her location to about a city block's radius. We'll find Y/N in no time." Leo breathed out a sigh as he watched Donnie type and click around on his wall of computer screens. "Thanks, Don," he breathed, bringing his three-fingered head up to his forehead and rubbing his temple. "I should have had you install a location tracker on her phone months ago. This is my fault," he mumbled, almost to himself. Donnie turned to eye his older brother, slightly concerned.

"No problem, but Lee... don't you think you're experiencing a slight overreaction? I mean, she's not even an hour late yet." Leonardo frowned. "Well it's been almost an hour," he spoke, "And she usually responds immediately while she's in the tunnels. And with everything going on lately on the surface with the Foot Clan and the Shredder..." Leo sighed again, trying to calm himself down as his heart rate picked up, just thinking about the possibilities.

"I would just rather be safe than sorry. If anything happened to her--" He stopped himself before he could say anything else, closing his eyes and squeezing his fists tightly at his side. Donnie watched him, somewhat admiring the depth of the love that his brother so obviously felt for you. He concluded that he would do what he could to help Leo ease his mind, knowing that the stress of the situation on the surface was definitely getting to him.

At that moment, the two heard a ping come from the computer, and Donnie turned to it, examining the screens. "Alright, let me get a closer look," he said, clicking his mouse. Leo held his breath as he waited for Don to speak. "According to my approximations, Y/N should be..." He clicked the mouse, and then paused.

"...right here."

The two brothers were silent for a moment, before they heard the sound of one of the tunnel doors opening out in the lair's main room. Leo ran out of the lab, Donnie walking quickly behind him, to see you walking in, wearing your backpack and looking exasperated. But as you turned to see your boyfriend approaching you, with his brother behind him, a smile grew on your face. "Hey! Sorry I'm--"

Leonardo cut you off by squeezing you into a hug. "...Late," you finished your thought, confused by the intimacy your boyfriend was displaying in front of his brother. Nevertheless, you hugged him back while you continued to explain yourself. "My phone battery is so old and it's been dying so quickly lately, so it died on my way here, and then I wanted to make a quick stop at a store I saw the other day, and then the subway was late, and to be honest I got a little lost, and..." you rambled as Leo eventually released you from his hold.

"Ugh, it just made me so stressed out," you said, breathing a sigh to let go of the tension in your head. "But, aside from that... are you okay?" you asked your boyfriend. He looked at you for a moment before a soft smile grew on his face, shaking his head slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine," he spoke, and you noticed Donatello face-palming in the background before going back into his lab. You giggled at the encounter and shook your head, not bothering to ask any questions, and then reached for your backpack.

"Anyway, I stopped on my way here because last week I saw this in a store window, and I wanted to get it for you! I couldn't stop thinking about it. Look!" You pulled out a plastic box containing a limited edition action figure from one of his favorite TV shows. You handed it to him with a wide smile on your face, and he looked down at it in quiet awe. He brought his gaze back up to your face, sporting a look of admiration and his same soft smile.

"I love you, Y/N," he spoke, before wrapping his arms around you and bringing his lips to yours. You gasped, overjoyed, and smiled into the kiss. He broke away a moment later, and pressed his forehead to yours, gazing at you a moment more.

"Hey princess, let me see your phone," Leo said to you a while later, while you two were lounging in his room. "I bet Don could fix the battery. And he can install some updated software you might need..."

~ Raphael ~

You shuffled around your NYC apartment, cleaning up after the small dinner you had made yourself. You were incredibly sore; you had been pushing yourself very hard in training lately alongside the turtle brothers. After one of their patrols had gone south a few weeks ago, the Foot Clan had somehow gotten their hands on you (again). While you had luckily been rescued just in time by your short-tempered boyfriend, the event had still gotten you down. If only I was stronger and could have defended myself more, you couldn't stop thinking to yourself, I wouldn't have put anybody in danger. Hence, more self-defense training was your solution.

A tap at your living room window pulled you from your thoughts. You went over to find Raphael at your window, and your heart thrummed at the sight of him. You pulled open the glass and leaned out, your arms supporting you against the window pane. "Hey, hotshot," you said to him, grinning. He smirked back at you, hazel eyes shining behind his blood red mask. "Hey, dollface."

You moved from the window to let him inside, walking back towards your bedroom. "I was just about to change into my pajamas, I'll be right back!" You called over your shoulder to him. Raph climbed into your apartment, closing the window behind him, and mumbled out a "'Kay" in response. Normally, he would make some smug comment about helping you change, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you practically limping on your way to your bedroom. He thought about what Splinter had said to him before he left the lair today: "Keep an eye on the child. I fear she pushes herself too hard. She wants to do well, to be strong... for you."

A minute later, you came out from your bedroom in a tank top, shorts, and a flannel over the top to find Raphael leaning against the wall of your living room. He looked up from the ground at you, his signature frown gracing his features. He watched as you slowly walked over to him, almost tripping over yourself on the process. He was quick to catch you, a sigh falling from his mouth in the process.

"Ya alright?" He asked, looking down at you with concern. "Yeah yeah, I'm fine," You reassured him, stepping over to the couch. "I just need some rest is all." But as you sat down and your back hit the couch, you couldn't help but let out a low groan of pain.

Raph sighed again above you. "Aight, no more movin' for you. Yer stayin' put." He looked at you for a moment before leaving your side. "I'll be right back."

You hear him fumbling about in your kitchen, and he returns a few minutes later with a cup of hot tea. You smile at the sweet gesture and thank him, blowing on the cup and taking a long sip. Then, Raph sat next to you on your couch, it creaking beneath his large form. "Now turn around." "What?" You ask, confused and putting down your cup of tea. "No questions, turn around," He responded gruffly. You did as he said, but huffed and protested. "Raph, I'm telling you, I'm fine--"

"Ya ain't fine, now let me help you." He said forcefully, his gravelly voice scraping your ears, and you stopped your protesting. He gently pulled off your flannel, leaving you in just your tank top, and you felt his cool, massive hands moving slowly along the skin of your shoulders and back. He very carefully began to massage you, not wanting to be too rough at first. He was silent for a moment, focusing on the task at hand, before speaking.

"Let me take care of ya, doll. Yer pushing' yourself too hard. You don't need to be on our level." Raphael's voice grew quiet as his hands grew slightly rougher, pressing deeply into the muscles of your back. "I know you wanna be strong. And I want you ta' be strong. But what I don't want is for you ta' get hurt. I would never forgive myself." You felt him get closer to you, his breath on your shoulder as he massaged your lower back. You felt his lips on your skin, before he breathed out "So just let me protect ya."

Your heart was sprinting in your chest, your pulse like a hummingbird. The intimacy of the moment struck a fire in the pit of your stomach, and your breath was coming out in shallow gasps. You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes at the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. "I just, I just--" you struggled to speak, your voice cracked. Raph could tell you were on the brink of tears, and you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, his lips pressing into your skin again.

"I love you," you breathed out. You felt Raph go still behind you. You forced yourself to turn around to face him on the couch, putting your hands on his plastron. "I love you so much, Raph," your voice cracked again. "And if something happened to you because of me--" "Stop." His hands went to your face and his hazel eyes bore into yours. "I feel the exact same way, but I won't let ya kill yourself tryin' ta' protect me." A small smile grew on his face as he spoke, the scar on his lip raising with it.

"I love you, too... more than anythin'." He stroked your cheek. "Don't stop trainin' with us, baby, but just.. take it easy for me?" A smile grew on your face at his words, and you nodded, giving into him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his lips to yours for a slow, tender kiss. You pulled away a minute later, a smile still on both of your faces.

"Fine. Now get back to work." "Mmm, yes ma'am."

~ Donatello ~

Donatello let out a sigh and brought his hands up under his tortoiseshell glasses, rubbing his eyes. He has staring at his wall of computer screens for hours, trying to interpret the test results of a chemical his brothers had found in the Foot Clan's possession on their latest patrol. Things on the surface had been really ramping up lately, meaning that he was working more and more and sleeping less and less.

He could feel the gears in his brain crunching to a halt. He had been on a roll all day while running the tests, but he knew that he was burning out. He couldn't help but hear the voice of you, his wonderful girlfriend, in his head telling him that he was going to run himself into the ground.

Suddenly, his phone rang, and his favorite picture of you wearing his glasses popped up onto his screen. Wow, speak of the devil. Or... think of the devil?

Donnie answered and felt a soft smile grow on his face. "Hi Don!" He could hear the smile in your voice, and it was like music to his ears. "Hey, honey," he spoke into the phone. "How is the latest project coming along?" "Uh..." He looked back at his computer screens, "Let's just say it is coming at a turtle's pace. And not the mutant kind."

"Oh," Donnie could hear the smile in your voice move to a frown, and almost chuckled at how easy you were for him to read. He heard rustling on the other line. "When was the last time you had a break?" He looked at the clock. It was around 7pm. "Um... breakfast?"

"Yeah, not happenin'." You were gonna nag him now. "You don't even have breakfast, you have coffee. And it's way past time for your government mandated break. The state of New York requires at least a thirty minute break for every six hours of labor, you know." Donnie chuckled out loud this time at how predictable this speech had been for him, as he had heard it probably a hundred times before. "I suppose I could take thirty minutes. And I assume you will be enforcing this mandated break?"

He heard a familiar sound on the other line, and footsteps approaching his lab. "Way ahead of you," You continued to speak into the phone as you walked into the lab, a big goofy grin on your face. A grin grew on Don's as well as you approached him, hanging up the phone call and dropping a take-out bag of his favorite Chinese place onto his desk. "I figured you hadn't eaten, either," You said as you gave him a hug, him still in his desk chair as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Too in the zone."

Donnie chuckled, but hugged you even tighter, nuzzling his head into your stomach. He could feel the stress slowly dissipating from his body, fizzing off of him like water evaporating. You stroked the top of his green head softly, letting him melt into the embrace.

"I know you've heard this one before," you spoke softly to him, "but if you don't rest your big, genius brain, it's going to overwork itself and short-circuit." Donnie sighed into you. "Sometimes in moments like this, I wish I didn't have a big, genius brain. Or a brain at all," he mumbled into your stomach. "Ignorance really does sound like bliss."

You chuckled above him. "But I love your big, genius brain! Not because it's big and genius-y, but because it's yours." You gave his head a little pat, trying to keep the mood as light-hearted as possible so that he would be able to take his mind off of his work. "Don't worry, I hear that Chinese food cures all. It must be the MSG or something."

Donnie laughed into your stomach and then pulled away slightly to look up at your smile. A comfortable silence covered the two of you as you both just enjoyed the embrace. He appreciated so much the care you took with him, how you always seemed to be there when he needed you, how you were his escape from his thoughts and work and stress and all the bad things in the world.

As you reached down to fix his glasses, which had become crooked atop his snout and purple bandana, he breathed out a dreamy sigh. "I love you," he stated firmly, almost as if he had just drawn the conclusion after a series of experiments. You let out a gust of air that you didn't know you were holding in, and broke out into a wide smile. "And I love you," you said back to him, stroking the side of his face.

Suddenly, Donnie grabbed your waist and lifted you onto his desk, standing between your knees. "Like music to my ears," He replied, with a grin on his face. He kissed your lips sweetly, both of you unable to help smiling through it.

~ Michelangelo ~

"Mikey, if you don't turn the damn oven on, I swear to god--" "I just personally think that pre-heating is a scam, but if you say sooo~"

You laughed at him but were satisfied when you saw him move to press a button on the oven. You were in the kitchen of the lair, and all of the other members of the family were off doing their own thing. You and Michelangelo often liked to do fun and random activities to spice up your everyday lives, and you decided to take it upon yourselves today to make pizza from scratch.

You currently had your hands in a big metal bowl, trying your best to massage the dough down. Mikey, of course, had the duty of setting up the topping station, and you had to keep scolding him for eating too much cheese out of the package.

Nevertheless, it made your heart soar to see Mikey truly at peace as his goofy self. You were worried that the pressure lately was getting to him; patrols were getting later and longer, as was training, and the threat of an attack by the Foot Clan was growing. You often saw him trying to stay positive and crack his normal jokes, but his brothers grew stressed, too, and sometimes they snapped at him more than you knew he liked. You wanted to do what you could to help, and you knew that the best way for you to do that was to get his mind off of things and give him an outlet to goof off and have fun.

Mikey watched you as you kneaded the dough, knowing by the thoughtful look on your face that your mind was elsewhere. He smiled softly to himself, admiring how effortlessly beautiful you were. He popped one last piece of pepperoni into his mouth and decided to bring you back to him in reality.

"Need some help there, sweetcheeks?" He spoke in a sing-song voice, coming up behind you. You turned your face over your shoulder to him, a smile growing. "Eh, I think I'm doing okay. The dough is still pretty gooey though, it keeps getting stuck to my wrists." A grin grew across Mikey's features, and his orange mask highlighted a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "Ya know, I think I have just the solution for that," he said, before reaching his hand towards the bag of flour on the counter.

You knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. Mikey had thrown a handful of flour at your face, letting out a guffaw at the way you froze, your face covered in white. You slowly turned around to face him as he laughed, pointing to the expression on your face. As his laughter died down, he let out a whistle. "Damn, girl!" He exclaimed. "Now your cheeks really are sweet."

You couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face as he took a step closer to you, but you gasped as he leaned forward and licked your cheek. He thought to himself for a moment. "Actually, it's definitely not sweet. It doesn't really have much of a taste--" You cut him off mid-sentence with a handful of flour of your own, covering his face, orange mask, and the top of his plastron with white.

You let out a laugh, and a smile grew on Michelangelo's face, his teeth showing through the white. "How does that taste, big boy?" you asked him smugly, sporting a cheeky grin. He eyed you before slowly stepping backwards. "Oh, it's oooooon, little mama. You messed with the wrong turtle."

And immediately, a full-on food fight broke out. Pepperoni, mozzerella, olives, parmesan, bell peppers, mushrooms, and more were flying across the room. You both laughed and squealed as you battled, neither of you willing to give up the victory of the food fight you had started. Finally, after he threw another handful of flour into your face, you tackled your giant boyfriend onto the ground. As you lay atop his plastron and him on his shell, both of your laughter died out as you smiled up/down at the other.

Mikey pecked your lips from below, and his smile grew. "Mmm, you taste like pizza," he said to you, and you giggled above him. You were so happy to have these kinds of moments with him, and you loved that he was having fun and enjoying himself. The warmth in your chest grew as Mikey took a moment to look around the kitchen, a smile still on his face.

"Ya know, I think Leo is actually gonna kill--" "Hey, Mikey? I love you."

Michelangelo looked back to you with a shocked look on his face, but after a moment, his signature grin grew back. He squeezed you into a hug, rocking back and forth on his shell, making you laugh. "I love you too, babygirl," he said, and stopped his rocking to bring your face to his, connecting your lips. His mouth moved against yours, the taste of flour and cheese making its way into your kiss.

Suddenly, the oven beeped loudly from above your heads, breaking you both out of the moment you were sharing.

"Ah, the oven's done pre-heating."

[hannahbarberra162]

Country Mouse, City Mouse Chapter 10 (end)

On Ao3

This is the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing Mihawk. Hope you enjoyed reading it.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A Horse By Any Other Name

Mihawk POV

Despite his denial about the changing seasons, the farming season was coming to a close. You were busy harvesting, breaking down areas of the farm that had stopped producing, and training the humandrills to take care of your horse. You’d named it Draftmule Mihorse, which you found amusing. He pretended that he did not. Perona had said Mihawk was “moping,” but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was an intelligent man, he knew that all things must end. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you work from the windows of the castle, wondering where your travels would take you next. 

He had no doubt that you could succeed anywhere, though the thought of you capriciously traipsing through the world did worry him. You didn’t know how terrible and cruel the world was - and he hoped you never had to learn. You didn’t seem to care that there were dangers lurking around each corner, waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim. The more he thought about it, the less he liked the thought of your whimsical travels. He would try to talk some sense into you, and see what could be arranged.

He left the castle and came down to watch you tend to Mihorse. You obviously loved the creature and anticipated its every need. You didn’t use it as a draft horse as much as a riding horse. He loved watching you ride it about the island, hair fluttering behind you. He had once seen you ride it in the nude under the light of the moon, a sight he would never forget. You were murmuring to Mihorse as you brushed him.

“Ah, Y/N. How is your steed today?” He refused to use the silly name. The beast was not even a mule, much less a draft mule.

“Mihorse is doin’ lovely, as always” you said, kissing the horse on the snout. The horse in return bit your straw hat and pulled it off your head. You didn’t seem to mind. 

“Out of curiosity, why are you training the humandrills to take care of the horse?” he wasn’t sure why the task had been allocated to them, rather than himself. It was certainly not jealousy prompting his line of questioning.

“Well, you leave for weeks on end for work, Perona hates horses, and Mihorse hates Zoro. So, who else would take care of him? Besides, they treat him like a little prince, he loves it. He might think he’s one of them,” you mused.

“Why aren’t you taking him with you on your journey?

You sighed forlornly and patted the horse on the neck. “I don’t think I can. He needs a lot of care and a stable life, not a life of travel…I’m gonna miss him a lot.�� You looked up at his face and asked “what’s on your mind doll?” You were attuned to Mihawk’s moods, something else he would miss when you left. 

“I wanted to speak to you about your upcoming departure from the island.” You frowned slightly.

“Yeah, that’s comin’ real soon, huh?”

“Indeed. I am not sure your usual methods of finding new work will be suitable.”

“Oh, why might that be?”

“You were seen in public in my company, at the lizard’s gala. You will be known to the government as an outlaw.”

“But don’t you work for the government?” you said, looking at him quizzically. Mihawk frowned - that was a good point.

“In a manner of speaking. But other pirates and underworld bosses saw the same as well. It would not be safe to travel haphazardly to another location.”

“I don’t need to travel willy nilly, Shanks said he’d come pick me up and drop me at another island. I was thinkin’ of tryin’ a winter island this time, just for fun. Winter crops are so interestin’, especially since you can-”

Mihawk did something uncharacteristic. He interrupted you. 

“You may not journey on that decrepit, malodorous, dilapidated, ramshackle ship of foolishness.”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. You crossed your arms and shifted your weight to one leg. This…may not have been the best method to convince you.

“Really? Is there a reason why you are able to forbid me from doin’ somethin? As far as I remember, our partnership is about to expire, leaving me a free woman. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that was the arrangement.”

“ Was ? Is there somethin’ I don’t know?” You looked even angrier than before. He decided to bare his feelings to you and deal with what may come.

“Yes, in fact there is. I do not wish for you to leave. I have enjoyed every moment spent in your company. You are the light to my dark, the sun to my moon, the rose to my thorn. I am never bored with you and never tire of listening to you. You are beyond what I could ever think possible to find in a woman. You are interesting, intelligent, charming, alluring, and a sensual treat. Please, stay with me.”

“Mihawk, I…”

“If you wish to travel and move on, I would be honored to take you to another location. It is selfish of me to covet more of your time. But I…I am only a man. A man in love. Please.” Mihawk practically whispered the last word as he looked at you with an intense gaze. He hadn’t begged for anything in his life. But he would beg on his knees if you wanted him to.

Y/N POV

You uncrossed your arms and stood up on your toes, putting your face close to his. 

“All you had to do was ask,” you said as you closed the distance and kissed him deeply.

"You can move into the shed with me if you'd like," you said mischievously.

"For you, I would." He considered his words for a moment and continued, "though I would prefer not to." You laughed and kissed him again.

You weren’t sure what the future would bring, but you wanted it to include your dour, sweet, romantic, violent, pale, farming protege. And Shanks had been right - one mention of his name and Mihawk had professed his love. Maybe you’d give him a bottle of booze from Croc’s house too. 

[demon-blood-youths]

Van Ink Za Tatsu No Harem || Part 14. Airport Battle

Hi guys! Happy Sunday! Here is part 14 for my lovely rp partner @the-silver-peahen-residence. If you haven’t seen the other parts, please do so. It’s wild just like this chapter! This drabble has some grammar errors in it but anyway please enjoy!

Part 10 - Resolution???

Part 11 - Peak of Anger

Part 12 - Head Hunt

Part 13 - On The Hunt: Assault on The Mansion Pt 1

Part 13 - On The Hunt: Assault on The Mansion Pt 2

----- Summary -----

After the assault on the manison and taking down Ray Decham. The next target on the list is Adam Ripper. The team is now on manhunt looking for him before he leaves New York. How will this turn out?!

--------

------ Four Months Later, The Bar ------

“Holy shit...” The client widen his eyes, hearing the downfall story of Ray Decham.

“Uh-huh.” Hitman puts his cigarette out before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Those are the Six Claws. They turn that poor bastard’s mansion into nothing but a burning heap of rubble in the sea of  blue flames. All that art, gold, jewelry, and money that Decham got? All of it up are in smokes. Gone. They made sure that the man got nothing, only the clothes on his back.” “Did Ray Decham died?” The client gulped.

“Nope. He wasn’t allowed to, he is forced to live with the consequences of his actions.That poor son of a bitch got some broken ribs, parts of his skin were burned, and get this, the man is paralyzed from the waist down because of the spine being broken or fractured. The man is lucky to be alive in a wheelchair. Because of that, he said he saw God and retired after being sent to prison or some shit like that. But I can tell you that man was never the same after that. Nobody knows if he can walk again.” The hitman said. 

“And you know this because???” The client questioned.

“The people who worked for him. The guards. They got injuries too. Scars from that assault on the mansion on that day. Physically and mentally. Some of them don’t remember but the housekeeping staff do. They see the house being burned and Ray Decham getting beaten by the Six Claws. They remember his screams.” The hitman continues, pouring some whiskey for his client as the man is now spooked, “Based on what I heard, the Six Claws are young men. Around high school or college age. Nobody knows but don’t let that fool ya. They are strong on their own. Got powers that nobody can imagine. Together...they can turn a fortress into a house of cards..” Hitman commented. “They tore that man’s mansion apart when looking for him.” 

“Then what about Adam Ripper?” The client asked. “What happened to him?” 

“After being beaten bloody, Decham talked to the police. They made sure that man is able to talk. If he didn’t talk, one of the Six Claws will beat him before getting healed by Ink’s fraction. Any more time he wasted, he gets beaten, gets heal and it starts over...”

“Jesus Christ....” The client cursed. Isn’t that torture?! What the hell?! 

 “Decham finally said where Ripper is. On his way to a private airport at 6pm. One hour. He’s hiding in the city. The Six Claws were on their way there to stop Ripper from flying out of the country.” The hitman continues with his story.

--------- Present.....Office Building ------

“Holy fuck....” Rust begins. That mansion assault. That’s something that everyone is going to be remember. The chat blew up.

“So you got everything, Fosh?” Hellmare said. Fosh nods. “Yeah. Mouse called as she got the entering all the way to the beatdown from every angle. ” Fosh said, worried. “She even told that The Cursed Vixens never done that before. Not sure if Ink wants to see this.“

“I rather not. Ink doesn’t want to see them so upset. She would be wondering if they’re alright.” Ophelia said as she exhausted her in healing that Decham’s wounds. Deku requested that they need Decham to talk so they can find out where Adam Ripper is hiding. Ophelia agrees but after two tries. Akiko steps in and is about to do her usual work making Decham cry out in terror and spilled the beans. 

“Is Ink awake?” Rex asked with concern as he is with the team, coordinating the search. 

“Not yet. She is still resting.” Ophelia said. 

“So that fucker is going to be on his way to the airport??” Navarro growled. “Bastard thinks he can cut and run after what he did.” 

“I don’t think he will get far.” Hellmare said. “Shdwkyz said that those six are on the warpath in tracking Ripper down. Dazai told me the same thing.”

“Yeah, I pull up any private airports and show Dazai. Everyone check and there is no Ripper except for White Plains Private Airport...” Fosh said. 

Kali snickers on the phone as Hellmare has her on speaker. “That freaking Ripper has no idea who he pissed off. If he learns what happened to that other scumbag, he is probably on his way to get away right now.” 

“Mouse sent a drone over there, accompanying the six.” Said Fosh. “Dazai and Kunkida is driving them right now with Shdwkyz, Oblivion, Yuuka.”

“And me!”

“And Kali...” Fosh sighed.

-------- At the White Plains private jet airport -------

“Sir. Ray Decham has been apprehended.” Said a guard. Adam Ripper who is wearing glasses and has a haircut. “Told that man to get out of there. Damn fool.”

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes. We are here.” The operation was failed. Condor and his team has failed. Ray Decham has failed. No matter, he would try again to claim Van Ink The Dragon’s body some another time in near future. Unfortunately for the occult doctor, there is no next time.

They made a stop as the jet is now ready as the crew got everything they needed for departure. Of course, they heard a car smash throught the fenced gates from the distance.

“Sir!”

“Keep them busy!” Adam Ripper hurried himself to the jet. “Get going!” The jet is leaving.

The six came out of the car and approached. The guards brandish their guns and aim at the six. However Joker is quick and fires his gun, knocking the some of guards’ guns of their hands.

Next, Atsushi rushes at them and took some of them down with his tiger fists. Bakugo and Midoriya went past, going for the jet. Bakugo is the first in line and yells at the pilot now rolling onto the tarmac as the jet is about to take flight. 

The pilot looks at Bakugo.

“HEY! YOU DAMN EXTRA, PULL OVER!” Bakugo shouted at him, startling the pilot as the pro-hero had that murderous expression on his face. “Uh...sir!”

Then he hears a click as he felt something metal pressed against the back of his head.. “Don’t...” Ripper said. “Take flight. Now.” He said sternly. 

“Y-yes sir!” The pilot cried.

Seeing this, Bakugo growls at Ripper putting a gun at someone’s head. Bastard. The pilot is an innocent person and the last thing he hates is people getting hurt. So Bakugo then sees Denji, Rin and Atsushi on foot running towards the jet. Bakugo lands onto the wing and holds on it while Midoriya is running. 

“Damnit! I’m going to cut it!” Rin said, unsheathing his sword.

“Don’t! There’s people inside. The pilot and the crew!” Midoriya said.

“But how are we going to make the flight stay grounded?!” Rin yelled. 

“Hey! Tiger guy!” It’s Denji getting Atsushi’s attention. “Yeah?!” Atsushi yelled.

“Give me a leg up! I’m going to cut up the engine!” Said Denji as he pulls the cord. 

“Right!” Atsushi nods. Whatever his idea is, Denji has some kind of plan. Atsushi gives Denji a leg up and launches him towards the plane. Towards the engine. Denji went into Chainsaw Devil and enters the engine. The engine explodes when Denji jumped into it. 

“What the-” Kunkida stared in disbelief as he and Dazai are watching from this distance. 

“Woah! It looks like a good death! Going into the engine like that!” Dazai said happily. Denji rolls across the tarmac through the engine. “HAHAHAHAHA! I GOT ONE DOWN!”Denji laughs as he swings his chainsaw arms. 

“Nice going, Denji!” Midoriya exclaimed as the plane is now going down. Bakugo propels himself near the engine and does a AP shot, hitting engine down. Inside the plane, the plane was going down and Ripper slides down across the plane and hits his back against the wall. The hell?!

The legs of the plane begin to break thanks to Rin’s quick sword slashes. Midoriya uses Float and his Black Whips to make the plane come down safely by wrapping around the wings. With his feet on the ground, he goes to pull the plane so it won’t enter the water. Rin wraps his arms around the green hero’s waist, giving him a strength boost thanks to his demonic strength followed by Atsushi and his tiger strength as well. The three pull on Midoriya’s black whips to make the plane grounded and stop. The plane skids across the tarmac and stops near the water. 

Now the plane has stopped. The drone has recorded all of that. Now it’s time to enter the plane. But first! 

“It’s over, Ripper!” Midoriya yelled so Adam Ripper can heard, “Turn yourself in!”

---- Inside the plane -----

Adam Ripper growled. He won’t be stopped like this. He needs to take some of the crew hostage. But then he hears something tear both in the cockpit and behind the plane then something come in as purple smoke fills the plane . Atsushi got the cabin attendants out of the plane and Rin got the pilot out of the cockpit leaving Adam Ripper by himself.

Shit! Now what?! Then he felt something on top of him not before feeling his limbs being rendered immobile. He sees black whips as he sees glowing green eyes from the smoke. The smoke went away and soon what revealed to be a green-haired teenager in a green costume. 

“Like I said, it’s over, Ripper.” Midoriya said firmly making Adam Ripper gritting his teeth. 

------ The bar -----

“Wait...that’s it? It sounds like Adam Ripper got arrested without a hassle.” Said the client.

“Not really. The idiot tried to resist by using his power to get away. Let’s say he didn’t get far away and he got it way worse than Decham because of his sick reputation of cutting people alive on the operating table.” Said the hitman.

“His power?” He asked.

“Apparently, he can change his hands into blades and he can turn his nose into a blade like a freaking swordfish. That’s what he is called Ripper. Just a nickname. He tried to escape the plane and tries to run on foot and the Six Claws were ready for him. I heard one throw him out of the plane and the others ganged up on him when he tried to fight back.” 

----- On the Tarmac -----

“Damn you!” Adam Ripper said he deflects the bullets from Joker’s gun as the thief fires upon him non-stop. The bullets hit his legs. Then He got punched in the face by Atsushi and he felt a slash on his back as Atsushi claws his back with his tiger claws before he does a spinning kick at his side, kicking him.

Ripper growls by swiping his blade claws Atsushi but his fingers got sliced by Denji’s chainsaws as the chainsaw devil roars before kicking him in the chest. Then felt a slash at he felt a burn on his legs. It’s Rin then he stabs his sword,  Kurikara into the ground and performs a Satan Bomb which creates explosions in the ground sending Ripper flying into the air.  

Bakugo is above him then performs Explode-A-Pult, grabbing Ripper’s arm with one hand and then in mid-air using his explosion quirk with his free arm to propel himself in a spinning motion. The spinning motion looks relentless. As Bakugo spins himself and his target with explosions. With enough momentum, he throws his opponent back into the ground. Hard. 

Adam Ripper hits the ground Then he got kicked by Joker and was sent flying before something hit him again which is Midoriya’s Air Force, sending him onto the tarmac once more. The boys’ attacks were coordinated and it seems to hit on target. The villain Adam Ripper didn’t stand a chance. It’s like Ripper turn into a punching bag. 

----

“Shouldn’t we do something??” Kunkida looking at Shdwkyz as they are watching the fight. Kali is there too, sitting on top of the car and watching this with glee, drinking a milkshake. Kali scoffs, “Why should we? It’s 6 against one asshole! That guy is getting what he deserved.” 

“Not going to argue there.” Yuuka added while Oblivion is eating chips much to her bewilderment. 

Dazai chuckles. “Agreed. This is the first time we seen Atsushi get up so riled up. Besides...they’re fine!” 

“Honestly...” Kunkida sighs. “I-”

“I know what you’re thinking but forget it. You feel it too, didn’t you? Those guys won’t stop till Ripper gives up or in the ground.” Shdwkyz said. As much as he wants to slash or rather murder Ripper for starting this whole damn thing and hurting his leader, Ink. This punishment is fitting for Ripper and his crimes. He had to give this to Oblivion and Navarro. This is indeed Ink’s harem. 

“Yeah...” Yuuka chuckled nervously. For the first time, Yuuka never see Midoriya and Bakugo fight like this. Their moves is reserved for the worst villains and truthfully, Adam Ripper is the worst villain ever.

“Gotta say...I never seen team attacks all at once!” Kali grins making Yuuka sigh. 

-----

Ripper roars at them as they are surrounding. “Fucking brats! Once I kill you, you’re all going to be on my operating table!” He inserts a injection into him, regenerating his blade claws and some of his wounds. “You ruined my plans in claiming the dragon’s body!”

Dragon’s body?! Is he talking about Ink?!

“What are you planning to do to Ink?!” Atsushi demanded with a growl.

Ripper laughs, “Van Ink The Dragon is a special one! I am following her exploits in New York and Japan. Her power is exceptional and I must learn about it. Her power shows signs of evolving after watching her battles. She would serve as a purpose for my experiments! If I got the dragon’s body, I can unlock some secrets in my research and make riches from it. Maybe immortality!” Ripper said, looking insane. 

---

So that’s the motive. Not surprised. Dazai thought. Too bad he confess to his crime to the six people who cared deeply about Ink. He is going to get his just desserts. 

 What an idiot. Shdwkyz thought.

Baka. Yuuka thought. Adam Ripper has no idea that he just pissed the boys off. 

‘Hahahahahaha! This is great! That guy is so fucking dead.’ Kali laughed in her head.

‘Uh-huh. He’s screwed...’ Oblivion thought.

‘This is going to be a quite report.’ Kunkida sighed.

----

“You bastard...” Rin said as he unleashes a Satan Slash, a blue flame power wave at Ripper who jumps away. “And I won’t let you six ruin my plans!” Ripper yelled.

“DIE!” Bakugo does an AP shot at Ripper which he easily dodges. Now that bastard is getting fast because of that injection.  Right now, he is getting piled on by the six. 

Bakugo does a Stun Grenade blinding Ripper giving Joker and Atsushi the opportunity to hit him together in the fury of gunshots, kicks and punches. Joker backs Atsushi up with his gun while Atsushi is beating him down. He got shot in the legs once more to disable and his ribs are being fractured, almost broken. 

Right away, Atsushi and Joker pulls away as Rin comes in and is quickly delivering slashes at him. Adam Ripper is getting teared up there are bloody gashes on his body. Midoriya then attacks Ripper with his kicks by activating Fa Jin, hitting Ripper at the chest and his blade nose, now broken due to the kintec energy which increases with repeating movement. Adam Ripper is staggering in the ground, now stunned. And finally...Denji roars and sprints at Adam Ripper. Ripper came to his senses and brings up one of his arms to deflect his chainsaw only to have his right arm cut off as blood spills across the tarmac.

The boys widen their eyes at this in shock. Yuuka and Kunkida’s jaws dropped while Shdwkyz and Oblivion widen their eyes and Dazai and Kali went “Wow!” as they didn’t expect that Ripper screams in pain as blood spills out from his shoulder.

“Dumbass Derp-Face! Don’t go cutting his arm off! Are you trying to kill him?!” Bakugo shouted walking over to Denji. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He jabs his finger at Denji’s chest. 

Huh. It seems like Bakugo wants Ripper alive and pay for his crimes. That’s an improvement. Yuuka and Shdwkyz thought.

 “Save some for me! I WANNA GET MORE HITS AT THIS SHITHEAD!” Bakugo yelled. 

Actually, they take that back. Bakugo wants to beat this villain battered and bloody. 

“Hah?! The hell?!” Denji yelled at Bakugo, waving his chainsaw arms around. “Fucking shithead deserved it. We gotta end this asshole with his arm off or something! He keeps moving around like a damn frog!” 

“A frog?! The fuck! That’s because we’re beating the shit out of you, you dumb EXTRA!” Bakugo retorted. 

“You guys....” Atsushi sighed while Ren pushes his mask up while Midoriya is in shock and Rin made a deadpanned expression with his arms cross while Bakugo and Denji are arguing. Midoriya is out of it when hearing Ripper yelling in pain.

“AH! It fucking hurts! YOU SHIT PUNKS!” Ripper yells as he is on the ground, rolling around holding his severed arm as blood pools under him while his severed arm is feet away from him. 

“Looks like we won...” Ren said, lowering his gun. Rin growls as he sheathes his sword, “I want to hit him more too. I am willing to cut his legs off.” 

“AHHHH!” Ripper keeps yelling.

Atsushi looks down at Ripper and shakes his head. “I agree with you but it’s better for him to face his crimes and be put away for prison. That said...we need to keep him alive. ” Atsushi looks over to Midoriya sharing the sentiment. “As a hero, it wouldn’t be right for him to die. We can’t decide that, only the courts here will. Ink wouldn’t want us to murder someone. It’s wrong.”

The boys agreed making Bakugo and Denji groaned but they agree as well. 

“So...how are we going to save his sorry ass before he dies of blood loss?” Bakugo said. 

“We need to tend to the wound so no more blood will come out and we need to put pressure onto it.” Atsushi said.

“Agreed. But how should we do it?” Ren said. 

“To do that, we have to treat the wound and to seal off the blood vessels. So we have to cauterize.” Atsushi said as he thinks. making Midoriya blinked as he had an idea. 

“Rin...can you use your sword to bring out blue flames to the wound. Blue flames are powerful enough. If we do that, we can cauterize the wound and have Ripper treated!” Midoriya asked to which Rin blinks then gets what Midoriya is saying to which he nods, “Yeah sure. I can use Kurikara to bring out flames and manipulating them. We just need to hold him down.” Rin sighed while nodding. 

“Got it.” Midoriya said as he and Atsushi approached. Ripper sees this and tries to crawl away. “NO! Don’t you dare!! STEP AWAY FROM ME!!’ 

“Relax! We’re trying to save your ass! Now hold still damnit!” Rin said. The next minutes were agonizing for Adam Ripper  as Atsushi and Midoriya hold Ripper down while Rin cauterizing the wound with his sword while everyone watched. 

------- The bar, Four Months Later -----

“Hold up. They what?!” The client can’t believe what he just heard with his eyes widen to the size of saucers. Yeah...Adam Ripper got the worst of it. The hitman wasn’t kidding. Holy shit.

“Yep. They have to burn the large wound to stop the bleeding, cauterizing the wound with some blue flames or something. There is no anesthesia or anything so you can imagine how that is like. It’s so bad that he fainted. The jet crew who got rescued heard the man’s screams when he is being treated.” Said the hitman making the client get the chills while holding his right arm. Yeah...he can’t imagine the pain alright. The client had to swing of his whiskey and drinks it down. He goes to pour another glass for himself just to process this whole story.

“The guy lost a freaking arm and they want to save him by doing that?! Jesus....it’s better to let the guy died at this point. Are these pro-heroes or what?!” The client exclaimed. 

“My guess they don’t want to be in trouble with the law so better to have him live and answer for his crimes. Or rather make an example of him for us to learn. Not to mess with Van Ink The Dragon.” The hitman stated firmly. 

“So Decham is paralyzed and Ripper has only his left arm.” Said the client making the hitman nods, “I heard his right arm is used in evidence from previous cases during the trail so he got sentenced to a life without parole.” Said hitman. The client drinks his whiskey glass as he now having second thoughts now.

“What if we go after one of-”

“Forget it. That’s out of the question too. You target one of the Six Claws. Not only, you deal with the other five. You’re going to deal with Van Ink The Dragon and the dragon’s fraction yourself too. You will be screwed if you try that shit. I heard the dragon isn’t that merciful if her men got hurt. The dragon is loyal to them and vice versa. They got each other’s back. One idiot try that and he got a huge scar on his body and his leg cut off. Hell....this guy was some rich bachelor. Heard it’s a woman or something. She and her shitty family were ruined to the point where they lost a lot of money and some of the family went to jail. Father, mother, cousin and brother involved. I don’t know all the details..”

“Oh....” The client slumps his shoulders. At that point....

“Maybe you’re right. I should just take the loss and go to another place, probably start again or something.” Said the client, accepting the loss now.

“Good call.” The hitman said. 

And so the legend of the Six Claws are now known throughout the criminal underworld and nobody will dare mess with them. Nobody knows their identities or their powers. All they know if you mess with the dragon, you get the claws! Those one who tried that are never the same again.

Of course, Ink and the boys has no idea!!!

------ The hospital, present----

“And that’s that.” Shdwkyz said as he return to the hospital. He meets with Navarro. “Everyone involved in the attack got arrested.” Shdwkyz informs. “Dazai and Eraserhead are gathering evidence for the DA so those scum will go to jail.”

“Good. Also Ink is sleeping. Dr. Yasno said that she will wake up at any time.” Said Navarro.

“Good. There is one last thing to do.” Shdwkyz said.

“One last thing?” Navarro repeated.

“Yes. And you know what that is. An apology....” Shdwkyz stated making Navarro gulped a little. Yeah...he almost forgot about that. Shit. Time to get those guys together.

To be continued....

[surveysand]

forty.

If you were given a plane ticket for free right now to Florida, what part would you go to/what would you do? disney world. it's the place i'm most familiar with and i really want a mickey mouse pretzel, i can't lie.

Do you prefer nail polish with sparkles in it, or matte colors? between these two options, matte.

Are you the kind of person who makes a lot of lists? What kind? yes, i love lists. i will make a list of literally anything and everything.

When you get upset, do you prefer to go to friends for support or to be left alone? Do you wallow or do you continue on with life? be left alone. it depends on the severity of the situation on whether or not i wallow on it or continue on with life.

Would you rather have the ability to speed up time, freeze time, or go back in time? go back in time.

Have you ever had a teacher you got really close with? yes, i was very close with two of my middle/high school teachers.

What are three things you wish you could go back and tell yourself 2 years ago? be safe.

Which type of pattern/print is your favorite to wear? i like solid colors most, but i guess flowered patterns.

What chain restaurant (Applebees, Ruby Tuesdays, Outback, etc..) is your favorite? applebee's.

What do you generally use Youtube for (music, specific types of videos)? i would say mainly i use it to watch the sims 4 youtubers.

In the summer, what type of shoes do you typically wear? converse.

Would you rather get a new pair of heels or new running shoes/sneakers? new sneakers.

Do you think plastic jewelry is cute or tacky or neither? it can be cute. i also think non-plastic jewelry can be tacky, lol.

In the summer, would you rather have ice cream, water ice, or freeze pops? ice cream.

Can you actually picture yourself getting married/having kids, or is that something that seems too distant in the future to imagine? i can picture marriage. having children is something i don't imagine for quite a few years.

Have you ever tailgated? Would you want to? no, but i would love to sometime.

What was the last thing to really really frustrate you? dealing with my city's gas company.

Is there some part of your personality that is generally thought of as a negative trait, but that you actually like/don’t mind about yourself? my honesty. i've been told many times that i'm "too honest", but i never am mean in my efforts. i just am not someone to hold back when someone's being a dumbass, lol, and i think that's a good thing.

When’s the last time you spent time with your cousins? christmas.

What kind of lip balm do you use? cake batter chapstick.

Are you frustrated with anything? yes, the fact that i can't find a job.

Why did you fall for the last person romantically? because i realized how much i loved being around him and how safe he made me feel.

What’s your younger sibling’s name? won't say this for privacy reasons.

Can you speak in a different language conversationally; if so, which language? no.

Do you ever fear of falling asleep? maybe if there's something bad happening the next day, but other than that, no.

Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? yes.

What’s the last thing you had to eat? pasta. i currently have some onion rings in the oven though.

Would you rather eat all day or exercise all day? eat all day.

Which countries have you traveled to? none.

Which beach would you say is your favorite? atlantic beach was pretty good.

When’s your birthday? don't wanna say this for privacy reasons.

What kind of cookie is your favorite? chocolate chip.

What is it that you really want right now? money.

Do you write? no.

Is there a map hanging in your room? no.

Have you ever gone to see a movie past 9:00 PM? no.

Do you ever pick up your house phone? i don't have a house phone.

Would you say you’re a nice person?

yes, i try to extend gratitude and sincerity to every person i meet unless they give me reason not to.

[chinaaesthetic]

Chinese New Year! 新年快乐!

*please note that the information below isn’t celebrated by everyone in the same way. Some customs are more common in northern China rather than southern China and vice-versa.

How to wish someone a Happy Chinese New Year:

1. 新年快乐！Xīnnián kuàilè! - Happy New Year! (This can be used one the first day of the lunar calendar as well as the Gregorian calendar).

2. 新春快乐！Xīnchūn kuàilè! - Happy Spring Festival!

3. 新年好！Xīnnián hǎo! - Hello! (This is how you greet people during Chinese New Year).

When greeting or wishing someone a Happy Chinese New Year, many Chinese people wish their family and friends things like: “I hope you have a happy and healthy family,” ��I hope you get a job promotion,” “I hope you have good fortune and pockets overflowing with gold.” Here are some examples:

4. 恭喜发财！Gōngxǐ fācái! - Wish you a successful and prosperous year! (This saying is known well because of this Chinese New Year song you can watch here).

5. 阖家幸福! Hé jiā xìngfú - Wish you a happy family!

6. 事业有成! Shìyè yǒu chéng - Hope you have a successful career!

You can watch this YouTube video or read this article to learn more about how to wish someone a Happy Chinese New Year!

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What is Chinese New Year?

Chinese New Year, also known as lunar new year or the spring festival, celebrates the first day of the new year on the lunar calendar. In 2021, this holiday falls on Friday, February 12!  This holiday is the most important holiday to those who celebrate this - its importance can be comparable to how Americans celebrate Christmas.

People have been celebrating Chinese New Year for about 3,500 - 3,900 years. It’s exact origins are unknown, but this tradition is believed to have started in the Shang Dynasty (1600-1049 BC) when people would make sacrifices to the gods and their ancestors towards the end of a year. However, the tradition was recorded and official during the Han Dynasty (202 BC - 220 AD) when Emperor Wu began using the lunar calendar. He chose to follow this calendar because it would let him know when second new moon after the winter solstice was.

Now, many Southeast Asian countries and people besides the Chinese celebrate Chinese New Year such as: Koreans, Vietnamese, Tibetans, etc. However, it is common to not see Japan celebrate Chinese New Year.

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Why do I keep hearing about the Year of the Ox/Cow?

Just like in western culture, there are zodiacs in eastern culture that the Chinese follow. There are 12 zodiacs, and these zodiacs follow a cycle of 12 years. Each new year represents one of the zodiacs. 

In order, they are: Rat/mouse, Ox/cow, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Sheep, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig.

2021 is year of the Ox/Cow - 2020 was year of the Rat/Mouse - 2019 was Year of the Pig... and so on. 

Because each zodiac has its own characteristics, they define a year. Chinese zodiac scholars have said in 2021, Year of the Ox, will be a flip-around positive change. They believe this year will be lucky and that it will be a good time to focus on love and relationships. People who are born in years of the Ox are known to have a lot of endurance, be calm and confident, but are also stubborn.

Just like in western culture, these zodiacs are believed to affect personality, fortune, etc, and instead of getting your zodiac by your birth month, you get your zodiac by your birth year. If you are interested in your Chinese zodiac, you can type in your birthday on this calculator and read about it.

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What happens during Chinese New Year and how long do you celebrate it for? Lantern Festival?

On average, Chinese New Year is celebrated for about 15-16 days (from about New Year’s eve to the first full moon). Preparations start seven days before New Years because stores and restaurants close and people travel to be with their families. Most students are also on their big break during this time - they get off from school around the beginning of january and go back after Chinese New Year. It should also be noted that Northern China and Southern China celebrate the new year differently.

During the preparation period, people go shopping for food and decorations. They also clean the house very well. If living in a different city than one’s family, many people will travel back to their hometown to celebrate with family.

During the New Year’s Eve period, the house is decorated with New Year’s decorations, and there is a reunion dinner with family at the host’s house. Out of all the dinners you have during the year, it is incredibly important you don’t miss this dinner, which is why there are so many issues with travelling during this time. At this dinner, you eat many lucky foods such as dumplings and fish. Also during this time, the older generations will give younger generations something called 红包, which translates to “red envelope.” These envelopes are filled with money and are only given on very special occasions such as new years and weddings. Friends give these to each other, but it is not common at all for a younger generation to give one to an older generation person. There is a custom where families stay up late to “watch over the new year,” which is called 守岁. Late at night, people also like to go to temples to hear the first bells of the new year ring because they believe it will drive away bad luck.

On Chinese New Year’s Day, fireworks go off, families cook and eat large meals together, sacrifices are made to ancestors, etc. (Fireworks are especially important because they believe it will make your business more successful.) One popular tradition you might know of is the dancing lion/dragon parades where people wear a dragon costume and parade through the city. Dragons are very representative of Chinese culture and are thought to bring luck to a community. Lions are a symbol of protection.

For about a week after the first day, most people go visit family and friends. A lot of times people will visit the other side of their family. For example, someone will spend most of the time with their mother’s side of the family during the new year, then during this week, they will go visit relatives of the father’s side.

After that week, most people go back to work. This is around day 8-10. Businesses, restaurants, and stores reopen, and many people leave their hometown to go back to jobs in the city.

Day 15, the final day of Chinese New Year, is the Lantern Festival. On this day, the first full moon of the new year happens. To celebrate, people will light more fireworks, revisit family, eat sweet dumplings (called tangyuan), and participate in the Lantern Festival. People release lit lanterns into the sky to honor dead ancestors. This is called 元宵节.

You can read more here.

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What foods are eaten during Chinese New Year, and what do they represent?

During Chinese New Year, many special foods are eaten, and these are foods that are considered to be lucky and to bring fortune into the new year.

1. Dumplings - represent wealth. Dumplings take hours to make and involve family help. They’ve been eaten for at least 1,800 years and are especially popular in northern China. It is said that the more dumplings you eat during the new year, the more money you will make.

2. Fish - represents prosperity and success. The word “fish” in Chinese sounds like the word “surplus” in Chinese.

3. Glutinous Rice Cake/Nian gao - represents success in your work (more money, better position). 

4. Spring rolls - represent wealth. They get their name because they are most often eaten during the Spring Festival which is CNY. This dish is more popular in eastern and southern China.

5. Oranges, tangerines - represents luck and fortune. This is originally a Cantonese custom, but many people grace their tables with citrus fruits. The word for “tangerine” sounds similar to the word for “good fortune” in Chinese.

6. Longevity noodles - represents longevity. These noodles are longer than usual to represent a person’s long and happy life. This is more commonly eaten in northern China. *It should be noted that these are mostly eaten on birthdays but can be eaten during the NY as well.

7. Sweet rice balls/tang yuan - togetherness in family. This food is eaten during the Lantern Festival, the last day of Chinese New Year. The shape and pronunciation is associated with closeness of the family.

8. Snacks - represent a sweet and pleasant life. Any sweet snack like dried fruit, candy, tanghulu is eaten during this time.

When it comes to food during Chinese New Year, there are superstitions about how foods should be prepared and what makes them lucky. You can read more about them here as well as here.

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What kinds of decorations are put up in houses during the new year? What do the colors represent?

1. Spring/door couplets - These couplets originated in the Shu era. As seen in the picture below, you post these on doors in couples - in Chinese culture, even numbers are seen as good luck. On many of these couplets are written wishes or poems for the new year. Each couplet should have the same rhythm and the same number of words.

2. Paper cutting - Translated as “window flower,” these intricate, red paper cutting pieces are placed on windows and often represent the zodiac of the new year or other symbolic animals such as fish, dragons, and phoenixes.

3. Upside down characters/Fortune - Many Chinese people during the new year hang up positive characters such as Fu, which means happiness and good fortune. It is written in calligraphy on a red piece of paper and then put upside down on doors and windows. It is hung upside down because the people want the good fortune to fall down onto them.

4. Red lanterns - These lanterns push away bad luck and are seen during both the Spring and Autumn Festival. They can be hung on trees, outside houses, etc. There are also many styles - they can come in many shapes and have symbols written on them.

5. Kumquat trees - As said before, citruses represent good luck and fortune. People place kumquats and citrus fruits on their tables or decorate their homes with small kumquat trees.

You can read more about decorations here as well as here.

Common colors seen during Chinese New Year are red and gold, but green can also be found.

The color red is not only dominate during Chinese New Year, but it is also very representative of Chinese culture as well. Red signifies fire, good fortune, and happiness. It is representative of good luck, keeps the holiday very joyous, and scares away bad spirits.

Gold or yellow is considered to be a very beautiful color. Gold symbolizes wealth, riches, and prosperity.

Green represents money, harmony, and growth. 

Though these are the most common colors, it should be noted that a color combination of green and red is considered to be tacky in Chinese culture. 

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What do people wear during Chinese New Year?

On the first day, it is traditional to wear new clothes and new accessories as it symbolizes new beginnings. However, there are people who like to wear sentimental accessories to respect and remember their ancestors.

Some people like to wear traditional Qipao/Cheongsam, Tang Suits, and Hanfu, but many people stick to western clothes like skirts, dresses, and pants. There is also a tradition of wearing lucky, red underwear for New Years.

Tang suits are the most popular to wear during the New Year, Qipao is also popular, but it is often too cold to wear during the winter months. Many people are starting to wear Hanfu again to celebrate the new year, but it isn’t widely accepted yet to wear during the new year.

During the new year, people wear a lot of red and gold. It is important to NOT wear mostly white and/or black. These symbolize death, and white is worn at funerals. Anything that is bright, bold, and upbeat should be fine to wear, but you should go for something that is red.

*If you want to wear something that is traditional Chinese for New Years, please make sure you know about cultural appropriation and know how to wear these properly.

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As there is so much information about Chinese New Year, I cannot possibly tell you all about it in one post. It is truly something that you must experience in your lifetime. It is very beautiful, fun, and there are so many things to do and celebrate. I ask you that you please research this more and look at all the beautiful pictures of food, lanterns, fireworks, etc. 

Please stay safe and 新年快乐！

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

New York High Rise {1}

Chapter summary; During all your years as the most successful mob boss of New York, no-one have ever dared to seriously battle for the crown with you. Up until now. Steven Grant Rogers, son of the infamous mob boss Joseph Rogers, has suddenly chosen you as his rival. Who will be winning in the end?

Pairing: Steve x reader  

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 1/5

Word; 5.9k

Warnings; swearing is standard in my works, mentions of canon-type violence 

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I actually started this series on a whim and all of a sudden ended up having four chapters. I really love it for some reason, maybe because it such a powerplay and I’m a hoe for that trope, especially when it’s a enemies to lovers story. Anyhow, enough of my rambling, I hope you guys enjoy this little mid week update! PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Golden chains and champagne. Fancy watches and whiskey on the rocks. Whatever related to the word expensive you were associated with. Although, unlike many others in your business, you hadn't grown up in this world of luxury, nor had you inherited the empire you now were the boss of, enabling you to live the extravagance life you did. No, you were one of the few who'd worked their ass off to earn every last thing you owned.

By most, your efforts looked like a great business mind and some luck. How else could you've become a multi-millionaire on investing in stocks? But to others, those knowing the flipside of the coin, they knew your success in capitals was nothing but a cover for your stealthy work in the shadows. It was a dance, one with feline grace, that you'd performed to reach your position. A status meaning you were one of the most famous mob bosses in New York City.

When hearing mafia, most would think of the old Italian image of people smoking cigars in fedoras, with some moustache that looked similar to pencil lines on their upper lip. Those who owned cities and the whole country knew of it but could do nothing about it.

Perhaps some of these stereotypes suited the older godfathers of New York, who sat proudly on their pedestals and watched the world pass by. But you were different from them. You didn't just watch the world continue and progress by itself. You moved along with it.

You were the new generation.

Compared to the godfathers, who every last person in New York and the bordering states knew off, you had two faces. One you showed the public and one you ruled the underworld with. To society, you were spotless, a name associated with nothing but a sharp mind and benevolence to the public. But you were at the top in the underworld syndicate, the biggest of the biggest. Yet, you didn't rule with fear, simply that of uttermost respect and earned trust. In other words, your reputation or connections weren't bought. They were deserved.

Thus, compared to the older generations, your face could be recognised by a civilian or someone from the underworld, none thinking about calling the police or betraying your trust. You owned the city without it even knowing it.

It was from the way you'd reached this top in stunning silence, together with the grace you played everyone with, that you and your empire earned the alias felines. Like a tiger cub who grew into an adult, your empire was once the smallest but now the biggest. Like a lion, you evoke respect and awe no matter where you went. Like a cat no one cared about, you could cross the streets without an issue in public.

Some of the elders, at least those who were your allies, had expressed their concern of your brassiness. 'Why play cat and mouse with fate?' they often said. But you always answered the same 'I am the cat'. And it was true. Despite some of those opposed to your methods, or just you in general, took the chances they could at picking you off the map. No one ever succeeded. Solely for one reason.

Now, you deemed agreeing to one of your first ever business deals the best choice you ever made. Although it meant you financed some of the worlds leading underground tech corporation with quite some substantial coin, the panthers were nowadays always watching over you. They lingered in the shadows, disarming every try at putting a bullet through your skull.

Albeit not as famous as yourself or the organisation you ran, the Black Panther Operation the sibling pair T'Challa and Shuri operated was, in no shape or form, not impressive. They'd established themselves as the leading organisation, even if not known by half of the people in New York, in the tech area. Not only were they invaluable to the numerous politicians wanting them to work under the radar to get the upper hand on sovereign states, but they also were to you.

They hadn't only supplied you with their physical protection of their elite bodyguards, the Dora Milaje or in common-tongue known as the shadow panthers, but their tech as well. Although, compared to anyone who would've been in your position and chosen the weapons or impenetrable bodysuit that Shuri, ever the genius she was, had invented, you'd chosen one of the other assets. The cloud, the internet.

Hackers were the way forwards compared to warriors. They were the weapon of keeping you one step ahead of anyone by supplying you with the information needed to be able to hold someone's life in your hands.

It was only to look back at the countless occasions anyone tried to persuade you into a business deal you would do nothing but lose at. Thanks to Shuri having dug out the facts that could bring any of your rivals down in the dumps, you'd walked victorious away anyways.

You were certain any of the other godfathers would've killed someone for even thinking, no less trying, to propose a disreputable arrangement with them in the first place. Yet, you knew how much one ever could make a death look like a self-caused accident, that in the end, people would start to wonder why it happened to people of the same background, connected to one and the same empire. However, the former generations didn't really care about bad publicity anyway, so why would they care about lining the street with dead bodies? But the difference was you weren't them.

By all means, some would say your ways was far more torturous than a bullet between the eyes. You wouldn't agree or disagree, only say it was just. Involving a legal and judicial battle was the new way of handling conflicts, after all. It was more efficient than having to wash the blood of your name all the time, according to you. Not only that, you gained a lot more than just a dead body.

You were in somewhat of partnership with most bosses around the city. Those you weren't, rather those you'd only settled a deal with that said "as long as you kept to each of your own territory nothing would happen", did try to bend the rules and use the terror tacit. Either they targeted you personally or something equally as important in your part of the city. It could be anything that would get to you, really. But, no matter what they did, they tried to not do it themselves. Instead, hire a hitman or someone equally as bad. The problem with this was that these people's records were far from innocent, something you used to your advantage.

If you tasked Shuri to find anything and everything these people had done, it was easy to find a person they'd wronged and who sought revenge or justification. The only thing you did was play your hand well, usually meaning you pulled some strings and supply the money. While T'Challa, as the expert he was on it, handed out the information his sister had gathered to reliable sources. Your collaboration made the person you hunted sit opposite someone from their past in a courtroom. Most of the times, they also lost the case.

Choosing to do this rather than go rampage and fire your gun aimlessly meant you settled as a second, or sometimes even third or four-hand source to what went down. So not only did your name remain clear despite answering a rivals offence, your involvement was nearly impossible to track as well. Thus, you could take down five of a rivals' men while they only took one of yours.

Despite one could call you out on hypocrisy, saying that the shadow panthers protecting you didn't own the same benevolence and were quick and silent in their killing, there was one reason you didn't care about the fact. Currently, they may be under a shared command, but their never-ending allegiance was always towards the founders of the Black Panther Operation. If either Shuri or T'Challa said stand back or decided to cut their deal with you, the shadow panther's protection would disappear. The same went if you chose to rip the contract.

However, it was a slim chance that either of the siblings or you would terminate your arrangement. Seeing how now, years later, you still were the sole person working a continuous agreement with them. That was why nowadays, your and theirs organisations were nearly associated as the same by most in the underworld.

Your style of ruling New York and living such different lives in the light and dark made others in your profession joke you were the sole one with an ordinary life. That you were no traditional mafia, simply a highly functioning business-orientated company that invested in stocks. However, both you and everyone around you knew that wasn't true. The reason? You weren't afraid to use every last of your assets to remain in control of your empire. Whatever it took.

And that was a promise someone the last months had put up to the test.

You don't know what set it off, perhaps the old saying of cats and dogs never working well together. Or that because you were at the top drew enough confidence out of someone to try and knock you down. For whatever reason, someone decided to start a ruckus with you.

It had begun small enough you had no idea that someone was behind it. Connections or deals with companies connected to your empire backing out of contracts in the last seconds, saying they got a better offer. The word secrecy, frequently used for ones own safety in the world you lived in, was a term you'd heard enough times by now to grow tired of. It was no significant agreements, seeing how you were well enough to not care about money, but it was plenty bothersome for your pride.

The next step in the escalation had been dealings slightly more important than a question of money, which was your territory and thereby also safety. You still had some meetings with a few godfathers, had fore some time actually. It was mostly those who once had opposed you in the days you weren't a threat or those who just tried to live secludedly enough that they died by natural causes rather than in a cell or from rivalry.

Each of those conferences had been about securing your grip on Manhattan. Primarily to obtain some neighbourhoods closest to Harlem Park and the northern part of the Inwood neighbourhood. Both of which currently was in some sort of grey zone. Meaning neither owned by them nor you. Although those areas were still not written as yours, concerning how those old bosses abruptly didn't seem to want to seal any deals that they weeks ago had agreed on.

Then you'd entered the third stage. The one that made you understand all these cancellations wasn't merely coincidence, but somebody working against you. People from both your closest crew and the Black Panther section had been disappearing. It wasn't uncommon. Your business was nothing but personal feelings and wants most of the times. However, concerning how few men and women you'd lost under your watch, this sudden increase was off-putting.

Closer to the truth was something like this had never happened to this extent before. You hadn't had people close to you or anyone associated with you abducted. However, the worst thing was that the bodies of those disappearing were never not found bloody or in a morgue.

Money or failing to persuade old godfathers wasn't something you took personal, but when people started dropping like flies around you, that you took personally. Hence, you, Shuri and T'Challa worked endlessly on finding who was behind it.

Almost every time, you found the culprit of the act, but not the big boss behind it all. Disabling you from taking more than one person out of play. That your jaw hadn't broken for how much you'd clenched it in frustration, or your teeth shattered from the amount you gritted them was a mystery. You hunted the person ordering these things, yet with no success.

Although one day, when one of the subordinates in your very own team had been missing for a week returned, barely clinging to their consciousness, you'd gotten to know who this new rival of yours was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The canines, an alias for the Rogers family, were equally known as any of the old US President in the underworld in New York. If one hadn't heard of them in your profession, it was more likely that you already were dead or not in it all because they were notorious.

They'd ruled Brooklyn with an iron fist and was probably the crown specimen of the reputation that accompanied the word mafia. There was a grace in their affairs and killing. But compared to your work, which was performed in shadows and silence, they flaunted it, not scared of running from the police because they already knew they never would be caught.

From what you knew, they'd fallen off somewhat after Joseph Rogers, the head of the Canine Empire, died in one of the rivalries between mobs. His death had been years before you were even born, close to an age it was as high of a chance he could've passed from natural causes. Still, the commotion and continuous dispute following his disappearance and the unclear leadership had served as a fall for the Canine Empire. There was no doubt your rise to the same amount of power as the former union possessed would've been as easy if you'd had them as your opponents.

However, now, it seemed like the past would haunt you down in the form of Joseph Rogers son.

Albeit you never met the new boss of the Canines, there was no doubt you considered, for the first time, to personally put a bullet through someone's head. Steven Grant Rogers was as ruthless as stories told his father had been. He'd even been labelled the golden boy of Brooklyn, rumoured to restore the brutal power of the Canine Empire. Yet, the spot he was reaching for with old alliances regrouping to boost him to the top was a position you currently occupied.

This is where the difference between if you'd had a regular business organisation and the domain you now did, settled in. You went on total offense.

You contacted T'Challa and Shuri, calling them in for a meeting. Even though the pair knew of what had happened so far, they were your partners and thus, you would discuss the actions you would take with them, even if your deal said nothing of that sort. But you knew, compared to your rival, it seemed, how important it was to hold onto your closest allies with other methods than fear and the threat of death. And thus, you also received the help of a friend rather than a business partner.

It must've been the bloodiest month in the last decade from the rivalry that blossomed up between the Felines and Canines the second you started to answer the new top dog's advances. You got reports that the shadow panthers watching your back had cleared more people putting you up as a target than in a long time. As well, did more of the people under your name end up red in back allies.

Then it shifted. As soon as you started getting trails of more people than just the executioners, you were suddenly able to take out divisions of his minions. And while the killing went on, you started winning the big battles. In other words, while Steven continued to play it hard, you started to play smart.

You cut off deals he could do in Brooklyn, much harsher and unforgiving than his initials ones on your side of the East River. It was everything from supplies, to money, to the extra set of eyes. Everything to limit him to sources you knew he wouldn't be happy with having to resort to. While handling this, with the help from Shuri, you also broadened your search to find every little dirty-worker under the mob boss's command. Thanks to those now operating for you on the Brooklyn side, you helped people who'd had a past with Steven's men tip police of and capture them.

Pawn by pawn, you lessened the number of ways the Canine boss could run in taking down your empire. You had him cornered, already several moves ahead of him whatever he chose to do. Only, it was one step you thought he never would do that, in the end, made everything come to a skidding halt.

He'd requested a parley.

"Y'know I don't really like the idea of you meeting him", you didn't look up from the papers you currently were reading to look at Shuri where she lounged on your office's couch.

Though it felt like you should examine the folder that rested in your handbag     -the one containing the event plans for the charity event you would host for the many high society individuals and governors, or anyone with money really, in two weeks- those documents weren't the ones you were looking through now.

It was five days ago since Steven had asked for the parlay. Ever since then, you'd worked on the deal you would offer him. You had no desire to sign whatever he would hand to you. And you knew he would propose something. The Canine boss was the challenger, after all. Even more so, the one requesting a meeting from the start. Thus, he, for one, would offer something to cease your continuous confrontations and two, he would try to drag you down while elevating himself. That you couldn't have.

"I know", you finally responded when having read the side you were on in the contract you had put together for your rival. "Still, I want to hear what the man has to say so I can stop losing resources, time and people", you turned to the next page as you said this.

There came no response immediately despite that you felt Shuri was looking at you. You'd gotten good at noticing this, someone observing you. Hence, even though the best of the panthers always were safeguarding you somewhere in the crowds, it never hurt to not solely depend on others for your own safety. Because that was what your constantly high attentiveness was for anyways. To always be keen on your surroundings and try to detect someone's move before they did it.

"It's almost interesting to see someone challenge you for the position of being the big boss, Lekati", it wasn't only at the reserved nickname Shuri used that caught your attention. The rest of what she'd said also made you pause mid-turn of the last page, eyes automatically shifting to her.

Now, instead of sprawling across the piece of furniture the women occupied, she sat upright with a smile ghosting her lips. Your eyes narrowed as you noted this.

"Oh, stop imagining using your sharp claws on me".

"I wasn't".

"You're a bad liar when you want to be", the tech mogul pointed out with a finger directed towards you. Your features stayed indifferent despite the fact that her remark had been correct.

"When will your brother be back?" The dark-haired women cocked a brow at your sudden change of topic.

"Any minute, I suppose, why?"

"He's more pleasant to have around while I try to work, less chatty", an incredulous snort left Shuri as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch's backside. Her reaction made your stoic facade drop somewhat, causing the side of your mouth to tug upwards. It was an act she caught and couldn't help but shake her head at.

"I never get tired of not knowing whether you're about to send half of the city after me or simply are in a playing mood", your repressed smile bloomed into a fully-fledged one, amused by Shuri's comment.

"Opt for the latter for as long as those couple of hundred thousand dollars are rolling into your account". Averting your eyes from the women you were speaking to, you once again inspected the bunch of papers before you. 

Having worked on them for days and ever since this morning re-reading the contract, you knew it was worded to perfection. There were no loopholes nor any unnecessary losses for either part. So, for as long as Steven didn't belong to the old saying of 'it’s hard to learn an old dog to sit', you knew his signature would decorate the last page. 

"However, you should worry about the day when the money is missing", you hummed while stacking the papers orderly, putting them back into the same folder they'd been stored since you'd gotten the paper copies of the transcript.

"Would that be my sign to start running?" You looked up again, instantly meeting Shuri's humoured look.

"It would probably be too late", you shrugged nonchalantly, placing the folder you would have to the meeting in your handbag in a swift motion while swivelling your chair to face her, rather than your desk as you'd done previously. As a chuckle was heard from the dark-haired woman, you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat.

"It's good that I'm your ally and not your foe".

"Good to hear you view yourself as a friend. Was fearing you would switch sides to my challenger's", you mused, arms coming to prop up against your armrest to support your head when you tilted it.

"I never would, even if I knew he had a chance to win", even though feeling somewhat relieved - because this world and one's alliances could change fast, no matter current contracts or friendships- when Shuri said this, you wouldn't show it. Therefore, instead of smiling at her belief that Steven had no chance of beating you at a game you had been the best player at for years, you simply kept observing the woman as she stood from the couch.

The young tech mogul started to make her way closer to you, a slight sheerness in her step that impersonated the glint in her eye. And you understood why for when she opened her mouth to speak.

"But you can't deny it's interesting someone is seriously trying to take you down", you rolled your eyes while you let your hand fall to tap against your thigh.

"Seems like you're more excited about it than me", you started, spinning your chair slowly to follow Shuri as she settled partly on the empty edge of your desk. She looked expectantly at you, waiting for an answer despite your deflection of it initially. For once, purely because of the topic, you complied. "But no, I definitely do not find it interesting", you sighed out.

"Oh, come on, Lekati...".

"Stop with the nickname", you cut her off with a roll of your eyes. However, instead of earning the quick nod of confirmation to follow your exasperated order, the dark-haired women grinned. Perhaps if it was anyone else than Shuri, you would've been irritated and sent them out of your office, but concerning you viewed her more as a friend than a simple job partner, you did neither when her teasing continued.

"Has the dog really gotten that much under your skin?" She chuckled. "Must be the first one... ever. Or correct me if I'm wrong?" You simply dropped your head and shook it. The young women were right and she knew she was. Steven was the sole one able to make you nearly lose your footing ever since claiming the crown of the underworld.

"Why couldn't he just stay put?" You mumbled under your breath, thumb smoothing out the wrinkles having settled between your brows. "We'd never heard of him before. Why decide to make himself known now all of a sudden? After years of silence?"

"Some men seek the satisfaction of bringing entities down, especially if they ruled it before and now it's overtaken by a woman", you looked up at Shuri. But instead of meeting her gaze, your eyes fell to the piece of paper she held up. Evidently, she'd plucked your Cartier pen and a sticky note from the stack always resting on your desk and written three letters on the piece of paper while you spoke. You, it stood on it.

"Thank you for the flattery", you replied, reaching forward to snatch the note from her. "But I would've prefered if Rogers hadn't, would spare me the task of crushing his ego", the brown-eyed women chuckled at that.

"Maybe he needs to take yours down a step or two too", you stood from your chair as she said this, dropping the slightly crumpled note you'd taken from her into the bin under your desk, then starting to head towards the mirror you had in your office.

"I don't have an ego. I simply know my self-worth".

"Sounds a lot like you're bordering on narcissism", she said in a sing-song voice. "Maybe you and his pride can go on a date. I bet they would rule New York happily ever after", you couldn't suppress a chuckle at Shuri's words, whether you wanted to show how absolutely hilariously unbelievable it was or not.

"Can't your brother come and save me from your antics?" You muttered, spotting the smile the genius behind you sported in the mirror. It was meant for her to hear, so you weren't shocked when she responded to the banter.

"I actually prefer his absence. The two of you together nearly drown me in the seriousness", Shuri complained dramatically. You amusedly rolled your eyes before settling to look at your chosen attire.

Compared to how far away you stood from tradition in the godfather's senses, it was one custom you fulfilled like the rest of them. You believed that the clothes made the man. And, for a meeting like the one you soon would go to, you didn't hesitate to strive for that effect.

You knew Steven was old fashioned. Everything he did cried it. So, of course, you would try to throw him off at every point you could. The skirt and dress were switched out for a suit, midnight black. It was a loose fit and probably matched the high-end fashion more than traditional meeting standards, but you didn't genuinely worry. You were here to show you are the new generation and wouldn't budge because you were the sole women in New York running a syndicate. Doing the best job at it as well.

However, if the man you would meet would frown upon women in a suit, the lace bodysuit, black as well, you wore instead of a dress shirt would probably give him a heart attack. It covered enough but were in no way domesticated and left the upper part of your chest bare. It was a great way to show off the two thin chains of gold decorating your neck.

For some reason, your eyes lingered on the golden metal shining from the light trickling into your office. You started to fiddle with the necklace then, concentrating on how they weren't cold but rather heated up from your body temperature.

You became lost in your own world, fingers splaying over the hollow in your throat to absentmindedly play with the chains there while you thought about the meeting that was rapidly coming closer.

The action, together with the far-away look you stared at your movement in the mirror, was something that caught Shuri's attention.

"Relax", instantly your eyes flickered up to watch her in the mirror's reflective surface as if snapped from a daze. She'd shifted, so she now sat on the front of your desk, head turned in your direction. "It'll go good".

"Wasn't it you who said that you didn't want me to meet him in the first place?" You began to challenge her words of reassurance, hand falling from your skin to instead hang by your side. Not until you'd turned and cocked your brow at her did you continue. "That must insinuate you don't think it will go good", she simply shrugged when you said this.

"I did say I don't like his sudden call for a conference and that you accepted it in the first place", she began, crossing her feet at the ankle and looking down at the movement momentarily before her gaze found yours once more. "But that doesn't mean I don't think it will go good. I know it will. You're good at your job", you smiled at that. You already knew that you worked great under pressure, or else you wouldn't be standing on top of the empire you ruled. Although, it was always comforting to hear it from someone else.

Fittingly, in the next second, a knock on your door echoed in the room, effectively putting an end to your previous conversation with the women perched on your desk.

"Enter", you called without hesitating, as soon as both your and Shuri's attention also turned to the entrance. The guard stationed outside of your room didn't need to inform you of who'd wanted to enter. You already knew it was T'Challa. And as the guard opened the heavy door to your office and held it open for whoever had requested it, indeed it was Shuri's brother stepping through the doorway.

You didn't more than slightly tip your head to acknowledge the guard's nod of respect your way before he closed the door. Primarily because you spotted the slate grey folder the older of the children of T'Chaka held. It was the call about the seemingly insignificant object being completed that had interrupted the earlier discussion you, Shuri and T'Challa had. Your assemblage hadn't been much more than some minor last discussions and to wait for the folder the man now walking through the room held. Thus the portfolio contained a report, the ultimate attempt of finding anything that could aid you in the meeting with Steven.

"Anything good?" You skipped the unnecessary greetings as you gestured to the portfolio in T'Challa's hand while walking closer to your desk, which also was where he was heading.

"Look for yourself", when he said this, the brown-eyed mad held out the folder for you to take. You did but didn't open it until you'd rounded the counter and sat down in your chair again.

You didn't know what you'd expected to meet you, but a photo and a single sheet of paper weren't it.

For a moment, you stared at the picture resting on top of the report underneath it. Presumably, it should've been a photo of Steven sitting in some club. Although it was blurry and had no great exposure, which made it impossible to tell much about his appearance. Still, you knew it was him or else the picture wouldn't be here. However, it did nothing to help you paint a picture of the man which name so far seemed to be faceless.

Putting the picture to the side, you quickly started to eye the document. You scanned it, finding it contained random facts citing what properties the Canine boss had invested in, even owned. Apparently, Steven managed several clubs, which would explain why his first suggestion of a meeting place had been just that. Other than that, he owned some other businesses that wasn't much to cheer for. All infected by alcohol and drugs by the looks and names. Classical.

"This all?" You finally questioned after turning the sheet over, finding the backside blank. When glancing up, you saw T'Challa nodding. You clenched your jaw and looked back down at the paper.

Ever since Steven had asked for an official meeting, between your eyes only, as his message had been clear to state, you'd requested for the siblings to find out whatever they could about him. You wanted the advantage you knew he couldn't get over you. Thus, what was publicly known of you wasn't anything to hide. And frankly, he was more than welcome to read the articles that had written things about you. Yet, every secret of yours, or anything you'd deemed unfitting for anyone to know, had been wiped. No one could ever find something about you that you didn't want on the internet. Though, it seemed you weren't the only one sitting on resources like that.

Albeit the "new mob boss" was discussed in several articles, Steven's name had no face in any of them. In general, there was no picture of him or much information to track him down by either. So, despite your best efforts, now it seemed you didn't have much more than your hunch to go on during the meeting.

"I do not think it's wise to meet him", T'Challa said, much like his sister had earlier. With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, fingers releasing the paper you'd gripped to pinch the bridge of your nose instead.

"Neither of you wants me to meet him, do you?" At first, silence met you, which made you look up the sibling pair. They shared a glance before Shuri turned slightly to look at you and her brother crossed his arms.

"No", they said simultaneously, which made you huff.

"I may like it as little as you two, but it put a temporary pause to the conflict. And if he comes to accept my terms, maybe that will remain".

"And what if he doesn't?" T'Challa inquired, receiving a frown from his sister, while you simply tilted your head down to look at your watch. "What if he refuses to tuck tail?" He continued to push.

"He won't", you stated, rising up from your chair, handbag now in your grip. It was three minutes until your driver would be here, so you needed to start heading down to the spot he would pick you up in. Yet, you were stopped in your tracks by a hand gripping your upper arm lightly.

"But what if?"

"T'Challa!" Shuri hissed at the unrespectful way her brother insisted on having his questions answered. She'd shot up from where she up until now had remained seated but before she could drag the man staring down at you with insistent eyes away, your raised the hand of your free arm. It stopped the younger women's movement, merely making her watch you and T'Challa.

There was a reason the siblings were able to run their tech operation as smoothly as they did. They complemented each other. What one lacked, the other possessed. For example, Shuri may own the belief everything was possible, then naturally, her brother would be more cautious. As in this instance. Hence, you didn't take any great offence to the dark-haired man's action, despite that your aloof tone could imply such a thing.

"What if he doesn't accept my deal after having me listen to whatever godawful settlement he offers me? Then I've kept my promise on meeting him for the parley he requested and one, which in the end, unfortunately, didn't establish an accord. Henceforth, our war will continue", you said, instantly feeling how T'Challa's hand fell from holding you back. Yet, you didn't pursue your track to the pick up you already was late for. Not until you assured him of one last thing. 

"Let me remind you that he was the one that asked me for a meeting, not the other way around. He asked me for a temporary truce and a chance to negotiate. In the end, that shows who's the most desperate to settle an agreement, no matter the terms".

Translation:

Lekati = Kitten

[justmypartner]

Make it Work: Chapter 5

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another. 

Writer’s Note: I want to first apologize for taking so long to update this fic. I took a break to finish up school related things, and then when I came back to writing I was feeling very uninspired with this chapter. Nevertheless, I pushed through and what I thought was going to be a bland filler chapter ended up being a really fun chapter to write. Starting today, I am back to posting chapters weekly! Please enjoy & I want to thank everyone who has read/supported this fic. As LaRoyce always says: From the heart ❤️ 

TW:// mentions of PTSD

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias , @itsdesiree86​ , @tvshowsaremyhappyplace 

Read on AO3 or below

It had been two weeks since their first day at the FBI, and Jay and Hailey had finally found a comfortable rhythm. For Jay, it took a while to get used to solely being a field agent. Part of him missed digging for intel themselves. He missed the long nights in the wire room and the early mornings organizing the case board, but the fieldwork mostly made up for that part of the job he missed. He loved being out on the streets, and in his eyes, nothing could beat the satisfaction of finally putting the offenders in cuffs.

The team was still rolling as a quartet, with Hailey still partnered with Walker and Jay with Daisy. For the most part, they were all out in the field together, but some instances required the pairs to break apart. He and Daisy’s partnership was working, but they didn’t function in the same natural way he and Hailey always did. He missed riding with her, but he was making do with the current arrangement until their training period was up. Overall, he was fond of Daisy. She was competent, cool under pressure, and she had his back when it counted, so he grew to trust her a great deal. Walker was another story. He was good at his job, there was no doubt about that, but he had a way of running his mouth that made Jay want to keep his distance. Things had been icy since they were at each other’s throats on the first day when Jay’s concern for Hailey got the best of him. They were able to patch things up, but Jay knew they weren’t going to be best friends anytime soon. He also didn’t like the way Walker interacted with Hailey. Other than what Jay identified as obvious flirting, he had a way of coddling her that, from Jay’s eyes, demeaned her and her abilities. He wasn’t sure if she didn’t notice it or if she was choosing to ignore it for the sake of avoiding conflict, but she never called him out for it. At least not when Jay was around. So, he never questioned it. He trusted her. Since it didn’t visibly bother her, he tried to not let it bother him either.

“Excited to have your favorite partner back?” Jay asked as he and Hailey climbed onto the elevator. It was officially their first day of partnering together as agents, and he couldn’t have been happier.

“Wait, Vanessa joined the FBI?” she joked, feigning a look of surprise.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Nope. I know I’m funny,” she smirked back.

“How is she by the way?” Jay asked, inquiring about her former roommate and best friend. Not long after Hailey went to New York the first time, Vanessa was picked out of Intelligence by Major Crimes to do a long-term undercover sting. She didn’t get to say a proper goodbye to Hailey, something they were both sad about, but they remained in touch through an occasional text.

“She can’t communicate much, but when she does she seems good. You know her, she’s a natural-born UC. Quick on her feet,” she said briefly. Jay nodded, noticing a slight drop in her mood as she spoke about her. He knew the connection those two had. Hailey looked out for her, almost to a fault as it was her attempt at protecting Vanessa and her childhood friend that got her sent to New York in the first place. He knew it killed her to not get to say a proper goodbye, and he could see it in her face in that moment. He decided to change the subject to get it off her mind.

“So, are you going to miss partnering with Walker at all?” Jay asked, slightly nervous to hear her answer.

“Mm, not really. I mean he’s a great agent and all, but he’s just too much in his own head. We connected pretty well with small talk and all that, but I felt like I had to keep a constant eye on him in the field. We just didn’t work well together. Not like you and me anyway,” she admitted, flashing him a brief smile. It was contagious and he turned his head to the side to conceal the one erupting across his face.

It relieved him to know that she didn’t feed into whatever connection Walker was trying to build between them. It made him even more relieved to know that they were back together as partners, something he was counting down to since their first day on the job.  

Things jumped off the second they stepped into the bullpen. Drake briefed the team on the case the minute they walked in the room. A rogue member of an anti-military activist group in the city exposed the group’s plans to target a veteran’s convention at the Javits Center in Midtown. Being that their intel came from an insider, the group was oblivious to the bureau’s knowledge of their plans. Drake tasked Jay, Hailey, Walker, and Daisy with attending the convention, posing as veterans as they worked to smoke out the guys before they could carry out their plans. As Drake, a former Naval Officer briefed the case, Jay picked up on some tension and anger in his voice. He recognized it easily because he felt it himself. He pretended he didn’t notice when Hailey’s eyes began to survey his face, what he guessed was her way of trying to read his reaction to the case. He tried his best to remain stone faced, but he knew she could tell something was up just by looking at him. 

If they had caught the case a few years prior, he would have gone to a much darker place, acting on rage rather than ration. However, through his therapy sessions over the years, he had learned to manage the emotions that only things related to the service could elicit. Once Drake was finished briefing everyone, he assigned the teams their positions and sent them on their way. As Jay turned away to head to the locker room to change, Drake called out to him.

“Jay, hang back a second?” He asked him. Jay sent Hailey a small wave, signaling her to go on without him. He followed Drake to his office, shoving his hands in his pockets after he closed the office door behind him.

“Something wrong, sir?” Jay asked, confusion in his voice.

“Jay, I know you’ve got a background in the military. I don’t have to imagine what’s going through your head right now, because it’s going through mine as well. But we need to play this one by the book, so I just need to know if I need to keep a leash on you today,” Drake spoke shortly.

“I’m straight, sir. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll keep in check,” Jay assured him, nodding his head with his words. His boss bobbed his head slowly as if he were debating whether or not to accept his assurance.

“Let me know if that changes,” he replied quietly, sending the agent a trusting nod.

“Will do,” Jay returned before turning to leave the office.

He quickly changed and made his way to the elevators to head down to the garage. His mind flickered back to his time in country. The faces of the six friends he lost before he came home and his best friend Mouse who was there currently flooded his head with memories. He tried his best to shake them off as the elevator descended towards the garage. The case was stirring up something in him, but he was determined to center his focus on the job and not let it take over. The doors opened and he stepped out, tracking his footsteps with his eyes as he walked. When he looked up, Hailey was slumped against the car. When she saw him, she bounced herself off of it with her foot and walked in his direction.

“Everything okay?” She asked, a look of concern plastered across her face.

“Yeah. Drake just wanted to make sure my head was on straight today… with my military background and all,” he said, his eyes darting around the garage to avoid hers.

“Mm,” she hummed. “Let me know if I can take anything off your plate. You know I’ve got your back,” she told him warmly, peering into his eyes with a look of sincerity.

“I know. I appreciate it,” he told her, forcing a smile.

“Anyway, check out our rig,” she said sarcastically, gesturing to the bureau-issued black SUV behind her. “It’s very unique and way better than your old truck,” she mocked, smiling as she tried to lighten the mood.

Against his best efforts, a smile crept away from his mouth as her weak attempt at cheering him up succeeded. Her head tilted as her eyes looked over at him with a glimmer he had only noticed a few other times before.

“C’mon. Let’s take this baby for a spin,” she finally told him, tossing him the keys as she made her way to the passenger side of the car.

Jay’s nerves picked up when they arrived at the convention center. Since they were going in undercover, they had changed into street clothes to blend in. He had chosen one of his old Ranger shirts and jeans, and Hailey opted for a plain white t-shirt and jeans. When they got out of the car, she reached into the backseat, grabbing a ball cap and securing it on her head before closing the door. The word “Navy” was written across it in yellow letters. She didn’t wear hats often, but Jay admired when she did. They suited her, however seeing her rep the Navy stung him a bit.

“You just had to choose Navy didn’t you,” he mocked at her with a scoff, knowing she could have chosen any branch to represent as they attempted to blend into the crowd.  

“What?” she feigned ignorance as Jay gave her a look of annoyance. “Drake loaned it to me,” she told him, turning her head up and brushing past him towards the entrance of the building.

“Mm. You know you always could have just borrowed something of mine,” he called after her, taking quick strides to catch up.

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to see that look on your face,” she teased, her attention remaining straight ahead as she smirked slyly. He shook his head with a childish frown as he followed her to the entrance of the building.

Immediately upon walking through the doors, they caught sight of Daisy and Walker waiting for them under a welcome sign. They checked in and grabbed their name tags, before walking over to the two agents to convene before they set out into the center to try and track down the activists. Based on the intel provided by the whistleblower, they learned that the plan was to send in five members, each armed with undetectable weapons to disperse into the convention center and target high-ranking officials from each branch of the military. There was a panel later in the afternoon in which these individuals would all be on stage, the perfect opportunity to carry out the attack. Intel also revealed the individuals would be wearing red shoelaces so that they could spot each other in the crowd, a tidbit the four of them were happy to use to their advantage.

“Four of us, five of them. We need to split up. Hailey and I can take the first and second floor, you guys take the third and fourth. We each get a floor and call for backup the second we find any of these guys. If you spot one, take them down quietly, we can’t risk them alerting the others,” Jay commanded, taking point on the operation. They all nodded before breaking off and heading towards their separate floors.

“I’ll take the second floor,” Hailey told him, moving past him to climb the stairs.

“Wait,” he called after her, grasping her wrist lightly to stop her.

She looked down at his hand on her wrist, her eyes lingering for a moment before swallowing hard and bringing them back up to meet his. He quickly released his hand, bringing it to his pocket before he spoke.

“I- Just be careful, yeah?” He said simply, avoiding what he originally intended to say. Despite what he previously told both her and Drake, the case and being in a room full of veterans was affecting him more than he would have liked to let on. He almost told her this, hoping she’d have something to say that would help calm the jumbled mess going on in his brain. Yet, he realized she would just worry more and insist on staying together as they sought out the targets, and they needed to split up for time’s sake. So, before the words could leave his mouth, he asked for reassurance of the only other thing on his mind. Her safety.

Her brow furrowed at his words almost like she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say, but she just nodded simply in affirmation. She brought a fist to bump his chest lightly before turning back and once again heading toward the stairs. He took a deep breath and recited the prayer of St. Christopher his mother made him and Will memorize when they were younger. These were grounding techniques he learned during his time in therapy. When he first started therapy, he thought the techniques were bogus, but he came to learn they really helped him cope when things began to trigger him.  

He took one final breath before making his way through the crowd of people, glancing down at the floor every few seconds to survey the shoes of those around him, trying to spot any glimpse of red he could.

Half an hour had passed, and it had been radio silence over the coms. He knew the operation would be difficult, but he thought for sure by that point they would have found at least one of the offenders. Just as he began brainstorming different strategies in his head, he caught a glimmer of red on the floor, doing a double-take and stopping in his tracks to confirm his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. The red shoelaces were there, plain as day, and the man wearing them was by himself, surveying the crowd nervously.

“I’ve got one of the targets. First floor near the east corner by a couple of food vendors. I’m moving in now, meet at the rendezvous,” he said into the coms before walking towards the coffee stand to his right. He grabbed a coffee, filling the cup with cream to cool it down before walking towards the target. A few steps away from the man, he faked a trip, sending the contents in the cup all over him.

“Woah, I’m so sorry, man,” Jay called out, reaching for napkins to try and help the man dry his drenched shirt.

“What the hell is your problem?” The guy questioned, a look of fury on his face.

“That is totally my bad. I’m such a klutz. I didn’t see that bump on the floor,” Jay told the man, handing him napkins as he attempted to pat his shirt dry. “Hey, you need to get that under some water. The men’s room is right around that corner and I think there were hand dryers in there,” he said, pointing around a corner. The man angrily turned, making his way in the direction Jay had just pointed to.

“Eyes up, he’s coming your way,” he said into his mic.

They grabbed the man up, locking him in a backroom the convention center had provided to them for detainment. The hope was that they could get him to give up the location of the other men, but his silence proved he wasn’t giving anything up.

“Why don’t you two keep questioning him, Daisy and I will go back out there and sniff the rest of these guys out,” Walker told the two partners. Jay clenched his jaw tightly as he eyed the target on the other side of the room. He hadn’t had the chance to question him yet, but he already knew whatever he had to say was going to just piss him off.  

“You okay for that?” Hailey asked, turning to face him. Her eyes were cut up at him under the brim of her hat, and there was an earnest look on her face as she awaited his response.

“What do you mean by that?” Walker questioned before Jay could answer. He and Daisy weren’t aware of his history, certainly not in the way Hailey was. The last thing he wanted to do in that moment was dish out the details of his PTSD.

“Nothing,” he told the man bluntly before turning back to Hailey. “I’m fine, really,” he told her. As convincing as he tried to be, her eyes loitered on his face as she tried to measure the truth behind his words.

“You guys go ahead, we’ve got him,” she finally told the other two agents before they hesitantly turned on their heels to head back into the convention center. The second they were gone she stepped closer to him so she could speak to him without the man hearing.

“Look, I’m trusting you here, but the second you start to cross a line, I’m pulling you. This isn’t Intelligence. We can’t take the same risks here that we could under Voight. Understood?” She told him in a low voice. He bobbed his head up and down in agreement before making his way over to the man.

When they first detained the guy, they snapped a picture and sent it back to the analysts at headquarters to get an ID. Jay scanned the man’s file on his phone before slowly making his way over to him. He took a chair and sat it across from the man, turning it so he could sit with his arms crossed over the back of it.

“Mark Jones. You are quite the model citizen. Numerous charges for assault and battery, disturbing the peace, unlawful assembly, multiple violations of restraining orders, the list really goes on. But I don’t care about all of that. I care about why you’re at a veteran’s convention considering how public you’ve been about your hatred for the military,” Jay said, his eyes staring daggers into the man’s face.

“I ain’t talking to you. You’re just another pawn in the game. Too stupid and brainwashed to realize you guys are just a bunch of empty-headed murderers, blindly following whatever our so-called government tells you to,” the man spat back.

Murderers. The word made faces appear in Jay’s head. Faces of those he had killed both in Afghanistan and in Chicago. Faces he had spent years tormented by. He took several deep breaths, trying to ground himself. To keep from losing control. He looked over at Hailey who stood beside him, her arms crossed as she glared at the man across from them. Her attention turned to him and the expression on her face remained the same while the look in her eyes adjusted, sending him a soft message of support. This reassured him and he took one last deep breath before turning his attention back to the man.

“Where are the others?” Jay questioned, dragging out each word through clenched teeth. The man only gave him a snarl and an evil smile. He knew he was rattling Jay, and that only got him even more riled up.

“Ranger, huh?” He asked, avoiding Jay’s question completely and reading the letters across his shirt. “Y’all are the worst ones of them all. What’s your body count?” The man questioned, shifting his eyes from Jay to Hailey. “Baby blues here probably wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes if she knew how many, am I right?” The man laughed. Jay let out an annoyed laugh, staring into the space behind the man silently. His tongue trailed the back of his bottom teeth, the rage burning inside him and churning with every word that left the man’s mouth. Suddenly, he stood from his chair, kicking it towards the man aggressively before grabbing him by the collar. Almost immediately, he felt Hailey tugging at his arm to pull him off.

“You’re done, back up or get out,” she told him assertively. He continued scowling at the man, not moving from his position. She pushed against his chest, dropping her tone. “Jay, I’m serious. I’ve got this, stand back,” she told him in a whisper. Her voice snapped him out of the state he was in, and he threw his hands up, backing up and making his way to the wall on the other side of the room.

Jay’s ears rang as he blankly watched Hailey question the man. The room felt like it was spinning and whatever words were being exchanged between the two weren’t registering inside his head. All he could hear was a ringing in his ears, and what sounded like his heart beating out of his chest as his breath and heart rate increased out of control. He closed his eyes and took a breath. In for seven, out for eight. He quietly whispered the prayer of St. Christopher once again.

Grant me, O Lord, a steady hand and watchful eye, that no one shall be hurt as I pass by. You gave life, I pray no act of mine may take away or mar that gift of Thine. Shelter those, dear Lord, who bear my company from the evils of fire and all calamity.

When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see Hailey slowly and cautiously making her way toward him. Her brow was raised at him, and she turned around to look at their detainee before grabbing at Jay’s forearm and dragging him around the corner gently, out of the man’s sight.

“Are you good?” She questioned, a fearful look on her face and deep concern in her voice.

“Yeah,” he told her unconvincingly. But the rapid beating of his heart and the fog in his brain said otherwise. Almost like he had lost control of his body, he blurted out the word “no” as he shook his head. “I just, I-“ there was desperation in his voice, and the words fell out between irregular breaths. He noticed Hailey’s eyes begin to gloss over and she removed her hat, placing it on a chair beside them before closing the space between them. She then reached down to grab his hand, raising it to place it over her heart, keeping it there with her hand pressed tightly over his. This froze him, causing him to lose his breath completely as he brought his eyes down to meet hers. Any other time the touch would’ve had his heart racing, but somehow in that moment, it was what was calming him down.

“Jay, just control your breathing. Feel my heart beating, feel my hand against yours. You’re in America. You’re in New York. We’re both right here together, and you’re okay,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. She counted out her inhales and exhales, urging him to match her pattern of breathing. After a few moments like that, his breathing became normal again and they separated, taking a step back after releasing from each other’s touch.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable for letting her see that side of him.

“No, do not be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.”

He nodded. “How’d you know what to do?” He questioned, picking up on the ease in which she was able to help him overcome the episode.

“After watching you deal with your PTSD alone early in our partnership, I decided to learn how I could help you in those situations in case I ever needed to. I actually asked the department shrink back in Chicago if she could give me any tips. She gave me those grounding techniques, the focusing on your senses, controlling your breathing…” her voice trailed off. He was looking at her deeply, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of care and concern she had for him. When she noticed the way he was looking at her, she looked away bashfully, reaching for her hat and securing it back on her head before clearing her throat.

“Anyway, are you okay?” She questioned. He nodded.

“Thank you.”

She took a deep breath before reaching to speak into the coms.

“Bennett, Burrows, Jones wouldn’t give me any leads on where the others are, but we need to find them fast. I was able to find out that at least two of them are carrying deadly aerosols. They’re after more than just the officials, they want to target as many of these veterans as possible,” she told them.

After calling in two other agents to watch the detainee, Jay and Hailey made their way back into the convention center. Against protest, she insisted they clear the place together. He knew it slowed down the operation, but it comforted him to know she was by his side in case he began to slip into a dark place again. About an hour passed, and they had no luck. The panel that would gather most of the convention attendees and all of the high-ranking officials was soon approaching, and Jay had a new idea to get the guys, but it was risky. They reconvened in the detainment room upon his request. Each of the agents eyed him, waiting for him to speak.

“I think we need to let the panel happen. We know this is what these guys are targeting. It’ll be easier to spot them this way, and we can get them all at once,” Jay proposed, looking between each of them for their reaction.

“It’s too risky, we’d be putting everyone in the room at risk,” Walker said, strongly opposing the suggestion.

“I don’t know, he has a good point. Having them all in one place, we don’t risk one of them slipping through the cracks,” Daisy voiced in support.

“Or it makes everything ten times worse, and they all get lost in the crowd,” Walker argued back. Hailey was quiet throughout the interaction, and they all looked to her to get her opinion.

“I think it’s risky, but I also think it’s the only play we have left,” Hailey said.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t get a say, you would clearly side with him no matter what,” Walker said bluntly.

“Excuse me?” Hailey bit back. Before the conflict could go any further, Daisy butted in.

“You’re outnumbered here, Burrows, and we’re out of time. We’re doing Halstead’s plan,” she said straightly, turning to head back into the center. There was a distinct tension in the room, but they all shook it off to focus on the task at hand.

It was decided, they wait until the panel began and sniff the guys out. They called in another unit of covert tact guys to cover the perimeter of the crowd. Every minute that passed had them all on edge, and none of them had spotted the guys. Eventually, Daisy got the idea to pull the fire alarm. The ones who looked panicked, desperate to get to the exits would weed out the targets who would be desperate to stay inside. With a stroke of luck, the plan worked. Some of the tact guys were able to spot and take down two of the offenders, Jay and Daisy got another, while Walker and Hailey were left wrestling another to the ground. In the process, the man had dropped an aerosol canister. Hailey’s heart stopped as she watched it roll across the floor, but she breathed a sigh of relief when they got to it with the lid still sealed. The day ended much better than they could have all imagined.

Back at the office, they worked on paperwork late into the night. Jay was still distracted, still dealing with the effects of the day. Hailey helped him with the paperwork so they could get out of there more quickly, something he was grateful for. Logging off their computers and closing up files, Walker rose from his chair.

“I’m really sorry about earlier, I say we all go out to drinks. Clear up the air. I’m buying the first round,” he said, addressing every single one of them as he pulled on his coat.

“You know I would, but I’ve got a baby to get home to. After today, all I need are some tiny person cuddles,” Daisy said with a tired smirk.

“I’m in,” Hailey said, looking over at Jay as they awaited his response.

“I appreciate the apology, but today really had me beat, I’d rather just go home and sleep it all off,” Jay said as he rose from his chair.  Hailey’s gaze remained fixed on him a moment, almost like she was asking if he was okay without saying a word at all. He nodded his head, slowly blinking his eyes at her and she sent him a false smile in response.

“You and me then, kid,” Walker said, eyeing Hailey with a less than wholesome look. Jay tensed up at the thought of the two of them, alone in a bar, winding down in the way he and Hailey were so used to doing. But after everything that had happened, he wasn’t feeling social, and the last thing he wanted was to be out for drinks with the two of them as Walker ogled Hailey the entire night. They left the desks to head out, and he slowly pulled on his coat and grabbed his phone and keys.

“Jay, wait up,” Drake called after him as he passed his office.

“Yes sir?” Jay questioned.

“Nice work today, I know it couldn’t have been easy. At least it wouldn’t have been for me,” he told him, sending a look of sincerity.

“It wasn’t easy, but Upton had my back.”

“Yeah, she’s a good one isn’t she?” Drake said. Jay looked behind him towards the elevators where she and Walker were waiting together. Walker said something to make her laugh, causing Jay’s face to drop immediately. He forced a smile before turning back to Drake.

“Yeah she’s a good piece of gear,” he told him, a phrase only a fellow military man would understand. Drake flashed him a smile in return, and Jay hung his head low.

“Goodnight, Halstead,” Drake told him.

“Goodnight, sir,” he returned before heading out.

He was still trying to decompress after the heaviness of the day, but he couldn’t get the idea of Walker and Hailey out of his head. He’d wished she would’ve said no, wished she wouldn’t be on her way to spend who knows how long with him at a bar. He also wished she would show up at his door, despite him saying he wanted to be alone, bearing booze and comfortable silence that always brought him peace after cases like that day’s. Yet, that night he knew she wouldn’t. So, he went home and immediately went to bed. Part of him was scared to sleep, bracing himself for whatever nightmares were to come as a result of the day’s triggers. He kept a light on that night, knowing if he woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream it would remind him that he wasn’t in the middle of the desert, fighting for his life and trying to protect those around him. He recited the prayer of St. Christopher for the third time that day, but this time before he could get out all of the words, he was overcome with exhaustion and gave in to sleep.

[ladyloptr]

•The Noisy Neighbor•

Request: twt@LOKIBARBZ (So, we literally had a whole discussion over this, therefore, I’ll just make a summmary of this.) Loki moves into an apartment in NYC, recently being officiated as an Avenger after some pleading from Thor. He is comfortable in his apartment, as it’s nice and quiet, until a loud new neighbor moves in next door. He slowly goes mad, until one day he seeks to end the nonsense once and for all.

Fandom: MCU AU

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Hate-Sex, Rough-Sex, Angry-Sex, Hair Pulling, Scratching, Choking, Degradation/Name Calling.

{————}

Loki isn’t sure what he expected to be greeted with when he returned to Midgard with his older brother. After the attack on New York City, he wasn’t foolish enough to think they’d welcome him with open arms.

Then again, it’s not like he had much of a choice in coming here.

After waiting in his cell for nearly a year, he was finally placed on trial. They sentenced him to serve his punishment on Midgard, to help The Avengers in their efforts to protect their realm. Among the many different options that the Æsir courts could’ve picked, he’s merely grateful to still be alive.

The Avengers, of course, wouldn’t allow him to take up residency in the tower as a result of his last visit ending in Tony being tossed out of a window. Thankfully, Tony, at the very least, agreed to find him his own apartment somewhere nearby and pay his rent, so long as he behaves himself.

The apartment complex is very nice, and most importantly, quiet. Tony rightfully assumed that it would be wiser to house the God of Chaos in a quiet environment where he’d be least likely to interact with neighbors. The last thing they need right now is for Loki to take it upon himself to permanently silence his Midgardian neighbors for making too much noise.

For a long time, this arrangement worked. Loki typically walks to the tower with headphones in, playing an array of Norwegian music, most of it sung by the artist Aurora. Her music reminds him of home, so he is quite appreciative of her work.

Thor sometimes questions his reasoning for walking instead of teleporting, but Loki finds the walk to be very calming, considering he leaves the apartment early enough to avoid pedestrian traffic. Then late at night, he walks back to his apartment, headphones in, still somewhat aware of his surroundings. Despite what The Avengers constantly say about the city at nighttime, robbery or any kind of assault is of little concern to Loki, considering-well-he’s a literal deity.

Slowly, The Avengers began to warm up to him, with the obvious exception of Natasha and Clint, who are always suspicious of everything. Loki eventually found that he favors the company of Bucky and Wanda, as opposed to the constantly annoying presence of Tony or the self-righteousness of Steve. He also prefers to keep a fair distance from Bruce, much to Bruce’s understanding.

Nothing was amiss, everything was going pretty well.

Until, a new neighbor moves in next door.

Generally, Loki doesn’t care for the ordinary Midgardians that roam the city, he finds them to be incredibly shallow and rather dull. None of them intrigue him in the slightest, and he finds that many of them have an ornate ability to talk much, but at the same time say absolutely nothing.

However, he swears to The Norns that you, the girl who just moved in next door, have been designed specifically to get a rise out of him.

Loki has always been known for his patience and tolerance of others. Even at this chaotic stage in his life, it still truly takes much to get him to snap, but you seem to be naturally gifted at winding him up.

For one, you purposely went out of your way to introduce yourself to him. You went out of your way to bother him, when none of the other neighbors dared to acknowledged him.

Maybe if he were younger he would’ve enjoyed the attention, but now? This Loki likes not being acknowledged, he likes being left alone, and doesn’t care about whoever else is living in this apartment complex.

He doesn’t even really remember what you were saying to him, he just remembers blankly staring down at you for a few minutes and then impolitely shutting the door in your face.

(Unbeknownst to either of you, back on the Bifrost, Heimdall let out a chuckle of amusement.)

Secondly, you’re just too bloody loud. You talk loud, your footsteps are loud, and you play loud music well into the night until one of the other neighbors have to come knocking on your door to tell you to keep it down.

He overheard you rattling off to one of your neighbors in the lobby, and unsurprising to him, you’re pretty young, twenty four, just graduated from NYU, and you have a degree in fashion design-whatever that means. Loki isn’t well informed on Midgardian credentials, and he’d rather not ask Thor (who has a better grasp on degrees thanks to Jane), lest his brother misunderstand his curiosity for infatuation.

Mentally childish, cheery, loud, and obnoxious.

All the things Loki doesn’t like, compressed into one tiny person.

You make him want to turn you into a mouse whenever you’re nearby, and when you speak, sometimes he wishes he could just take a knife and cut out your vocal cords.

It’s such a shame that he finds you so attractive, if only he could tear your face off and place it on another, quieter woman.

On the flip side, you aren’t particularly fond of him either. He always comes off as rude and dismissive. You are convinced he’s the spirit of an old grumpy senior citizen wearing the skin of a beautiful young man.

So, tensions continue to escalate over the course of four months. The loud music, the loud talking, the loud everything.

He could just ask Tony to move him to another apartment complex the moment you began to stoke the fire, but he would rather not concede defeat. Eventually, you’ll be asked to move, with how loud you are and how often you inconvenience the others around you.

But, another month passes and it still hasn’t happened yet.

He’s not sure how long he can put up with this nonsense.

Six months became his limit, after you tested his patience on the wrong day.

That afternoon, Doctor Doom had infiltrated The Avengers tower looking to steal technology from Tony. Doom easily brushed aside the team’s efforts to prevent him from getting anywhere near the lab. With Thor temporarily lending his assistance to Asgard, The Avengers were without one of their strongest members. Loki eventually managed to subdue him, but his seidr was almost completely spent. He was left feeling fatigued and rather irrate.

When he finally returned to his apartment, he was greeted with some much needed peace and quiet. He fell asleep on the couch, too tired to get undressed from his armor or walk to his bedroom.

It wasn’t until you returned home late from a runway show, that his peace was interrupted. He could quite clearly hear your vain and vulgar Midgardian music playing loudly in your apartment nearby.

“I said certified freak.”

“Seven days a week.”

“Wet ass pussy.”

“Make that pull out game weak!”

Finally fed up, Loki exits his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him, and stomping to your front door. He knocks loudly and frantically, eager to get you to shut off that stupid music.

Hearing the knocking on the door, you quickly pause your music, knowing that it’s probably one of your irritated neighbors again. When you open your door, you are greeted with the sight of a scowling deity. You tilt your head and smile at him brightly. “Well, Loki, how may I help you?”

“You may help me by shutting off that incessant, vain, rhythmless dribble you call music.”

“It’s the national anthem. I am paying homage to our country’s independence.”

Loki grimaces, leaning in slightly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“No, but I take you for someone with an old man mentality.” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not Bill Clinton in a skin suit?”

“It is one in the morning and some of us are tired.” Loki hisses. “Mortals. Always only concerned with themselves, so selfish and blind to the needs of others.”

“Selfish and blind? You’re one to talk.” You cross your arms. “Didn’t you kill like, hundreds of people when you invaded New York City because you wanted a throne?”

Loki’s eyes narrow dangerously at you, as you slowly cross into no-man’s land.

You pout and pretend to cry. “Boohoo, I am Loki, I was born into a rich family, and I was given everything I ever wanted except a throne.” You pretend to wipe your eyes. “So I killed hundreds of innocent humans because I wanted to be king.”

“You have no idea what you speak of, mortal.” Loki growls, his voice low and grave now. He steps forward, passing through your doorway. “You know nothing of me, or what I am capable of.”

“And what are you capable of, Loki?” You ask. “Besides killing hundreds of innocent people because your daddy didn’t like you, of course.”

You are caught off guard when Loki pulls the door shut behind him and locks it. He immediately pins you against the wall by your arms, and glowers down at you.

“Scared, mortal?”

“No.” You answer truthfully. “You don’t scare me anymore. If you really wanted me dead, you would’ve done it already. You’ve gone soft.”

He growls at you, and leans forward, pressing his lips against yours. You hardly have any time to react as he forces his tongue into your mouth. He’s actually surprised when you begin to fight him for dominance, your tongue aggressive pushing against his, and your teeth nibbling on his lips. Eventually, you have to give up your fight, your need for oxygen cutting your fight short.

“Such a shame, a pretty face like yours bound to someone with such an ugly personality.” Loki’s hands release your wrists and slowly travel down to grip your hips.

“Hypocrite.” You say. “Between the two of us, you’re the one with the ugliest personality.”

“You dare to speak to a god in such a way.” Loki groans lowly, grinding himself up against you. You gasp, feeling his erection pressing up against you. “I’ll have you know, where I come from, you’d be punished.”

You let your fingers get tangled in his hair and then you tug on it. You grin as he lets out a soft moan. “Are you telling me you’d like to punish me?”

“I am unsure.” His hands travel up your shirt, and cup your breast. You’re internally grateful that you decided to ditch your bra today. “I have a feeling you’d enjoy it too much.”

Loki stills as your hand travels between the two of you and gently massages the bulge in his pants. “Well, why don’t we find out?”

You yelp in surprise when Loki drags you by your arm to the kitchen. He pushes you to bend over the kitchen counter, pulls your pajama pants down, along with your panties.

A sharp gasp escapes you when he shoves two long fingers inside of you and pumps them steadily inside of you. He continues this until your wetness is practically running down your thighs.

You hear him unbuckle his belt behind you, and soon, he flips you around, so you’re now lying on your back on the counter. You close your eyes as you feel his cock pressing up against your entrance.

“I’m going to break you, fragile mortal.” Loki growls. “I’m going to break you, and relish the moment you come undone underneath me.”

You let out a chuckle, which only serves to irritate him. He enters you in one swift thrust, and you whimper as you feel him stretch you out more than you ever have before.

Loki wraps his fingers around your throat, and begins thrusting hard and fast. He hisses as you drag your nails hard against his neck.

“You should be worshipping me, mortal.” He growls. “You should feel honored that I’m here splitting your quim instead of resting, like I wanted to do.”

“Oh, fuck you spoilt rich brat!” You snap at him.

“Oh, but I am fucking you.” Loki chuckles darkly, tightening his grip around your throat. “And when I’m done, you’ll be positively ruined for any mortal man who tries to lay with you.”

“Bold of you to assume you can make me cum with that weak dick of yours.”

You let out a lewd moan when he changes his angle, his cock head brushing up against your g-spot.

“You were saying, whore?”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re the whore, coming here to fuck someone you don’t even like.”

Loki groans, watching as his cock is literally splitting your cunt. “You asked for this, you stupid girl.”

When you begin to feel a familiar tightening in your stomach, you start to claw and scratch at him, not willing to let him push you over the edge.

“Fight me all you wish to, mortal.” Loki groans in your ear. “You’re going to cum for me, whether you like it or not.”

“I hate you!” You practically scream at him.

“I hate you as well, but here we are.”

You gasp and moan as you feel the coil in your stomach snap. You are somewhat thankful that Loki choking you is preventing you from screaming at the top of your lungs. Loki grunts loudly as he falls over the edge after you, his hips stuttering to a stop as he releases inside of you.

You both stay like that for a few minute, your back on the counter and cum oozing onto your thighs, and Loki resting some of his weight on top of you.

“I might just retire in here for tonight.” Loki grumbles. “I am completely spent.”

“So tired from one round that you can’t walk back to your own apartment?” You chuckle. “You have shitty stamina for a god.”

“I was tired before I arrived here. I said this already.”

You roll your eyes. “Then you should’ve gone to sleep instead of coming here.”

“I wouldn’t have come here if you hadn’t been playing your music loud enough for Asgard to hear!�� Loki snaps, biting at your neck in annoyance. You wince. “You’re an obnoxious wrench. It’s a wonder how you haven’t been asked to move elsewhere.”

“The landlord is my mother.”

Loki is silent for a few moments, now absolutely livid. The landlord is your mother?!

“I’ll be having words with your mother, then.”

You laugh. “You can try. Who do you think I got all of my obnoxious traits from?”

You hear Loki scowl next to you, and nip you on the neck again. “You Midgardian women are bothersome.”

[reneejuliet]

The bells of change.

Author: reneejuliet

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: E (still absolutely nothing)

Word Count: 1,247

Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU

Author’s Note: Here’s the sequel! Well, I say sequel, but it’s more like an installment. These “pieces” are going to be snippets of a story, as that’s probably all I’ll have time to write out. But I hope you like it! The photo above is edited by me. 

You can read the first part here.

Happy Reading!

You were exhausted.

Two weeks ago, your days had been cinematic. Soaring mountains, neon cities, blooming country sides: they’d all provided breathtaking backdrops for a month’s worth of adventures with your best friend. Your passport still sat carelessly on your desk, pages brimming with the timeline of your travels. The trip had been impulsive, and exhilarating.

And expensive.

Despite all your scrimping and saving and the meticulous planning you had put into the excursion, your bank account had still been stretched incredibly thin. After all, you still had bills to keep up with while you were away experiencing life. Not that you regretted the trip – the very opposite, actually. You’d never known such freedom, such peace. And oh, what you wouldn’t give to be back on a distant shore, toes buried in the sand and bathed in moonlight, watching your friend frolic haphazardly through the dark waters.

Instead, you find yourself back in your studio apartment on the far side of town after another long day at work. Only the light above the stove is there to greet you at this late hour, left on by you to prevent any more stubbed toes or banged shins. After all, the only window you have in your “living room” faces a brick wall attached to a ten-story building. You aren’t exactly familiar with natural lighting.

Still, the apartment is home, and has been for some time now. It may not be conveniently located to your work – 45 minute commute by bus, 30 by taxi if you ever had the money to spare for one – but it’s cheap enough that even with your commuting fees, you manage to come out on top each month. And that’s really all you could ask for. Plus, it’s just you living here, and you’ve never been a flashy kind of person. If anything, the plain, boring space suits you rather well.

You had just thrown your coat over the back of your kitchen chair and dropped your bag onto the counter when the familiar chime of your phone sounds from the confines of your pants. Instinctively, you groaned. You knew that sound.

Another work email.

Even though you had clocked out almost 2 hours ago, your phone had not shut up since you had left the building. Your return from your vacation had been timed perfectly with the start of the busy season, and thus had buried you in orders before you’d even had your first cup of coffee. Ever since, you’d been working longer and longer hours to try and stay afloat. This often meant working off the clock and answering emails from the comfort of your own home.

Needless to say, you’d grown conditioned to hate that particular series of bells.

Tonight, however, you choose to ignore the siren call of work in favor of heating up some leftovers you’d been dreaming about all day. It was Friday, after all. Even if you responded to this beck and call, it likely wouldn’t be received until tomorrow, let alone appreciated by your bosses until the coming Monday because they got to leave work behind when they clocked out. So, screw it. You were taking the rest of the night for yourself.

The food in the microwave, your clothes changed out for a comfy set of pjs, and your laptop tucked under your arm, you settled into your favorite spot on the couch. Flipping the screen open, you punched in your log-in information and waited as your most recent activity reloaded before your eyes. Squinting against the brightness, you’re greeted with the familiar sight of your social media. It’s all kept primarily on your laptop in an effort to maintain your phone for work purposes only, so you’re not surprised that you’d forgotten to close out of the accounts.

As the tantalizing aroma of your food begins to seep out from the kitchen, you flick between accounts to catch up on the latest with your family and friends. You were just about to leave a sarcastic comment on one of your friend’s status updates when another chime rings loudly in your quiet apartment. You jump in surprise, carefully cradling your laptop to prevent a journey to the floor. Instinctively, your eyes shoot to your phone with a glare. But it remains on the counter, where you left it, screen dark with its lack of power.

You look instead to the microwave, tongue sticking out of your mouth in anticipation of your food. Only the glowing red numbers tell you there is still a little over a minute left. Your stomach rumbles grumpily.

Something on the screen between your hands catches your eye, and you look down with your brow drawn in confusion. There is nothing on the page you are currently on, but one of the other tabs is blinking in notification. Clicking on it, your Facebook page loads up in a soft blue glow. And there, up near the top of your screen, is a little red circle indicating that you have a new friend request.

You have not met anyone new lately – there hasn’t been any time for that with work. Anyone of interest from your trip that had warranted exchanging information had added you on their preferred social media platform, none of which had been Facebook. You vaguely remembered a friend mentioning her cousin was moving nearby soon and would likely be scouring her own page for people to add from the area, but that was more than a month ago.

Curiosity winning out, you click on the little red bubble. The menu drops down with the account that has submitted the request. There is no profile picture – hello red flag – but there is a message attached to the request. You click on it, and you choke on your own spit.

Hello, Y/N. Bell girl. I hope you made flight.

You almost have no idea what this message means. Your name could have just been gleaned from your profile, and everything else is random enough to be brushed off as spam. You move the mouse to hover over the delete button. But you hesitate.

Because just across from you, on one of the shelves of your bookcase, sits a little ceramic bell whose chime you have not been able to forget since it literally rained down on you. You’d thought they’d all been cleaned up, but one had managed to fall into the hood of your coat and you unwittingly carried it onto your plane with you. It wasn’t until you were an entire ocean away that you discovered the mistake, at which point it was too late to remedy. You’d stewed in guilt for a day or two, even contemplated tossing the thing out so it wouldn’t remind you of the only theft you’d ever committed.

Then you rang it, and those soft doe eyes were called into your memory. How they glistened as he’d stared at you, the way they crinkled when you’d offered him your name. You hadn’t gotten his, but you hadn’t needed it, either. Because you knew those eyes.

Your own snap back to your laptop and zero in on the requester’s profile name. A rather undignified snort leaves you.

John Cook.

Was he serious? Of course not, because there was no way this was even him. It was some sort of coincidence. At worst, a terrible joke. It had to be.

There was absolutely, positively, no way Jeon Jungkook was adding you on Facebook.

Right?

There it is! I know Jungkook isn’t exactly present in this one, but I wanted to show the reader’s POV more this time. Please let me know what you think. And, if you have any suggestions for the next drabble, feel free to share! I’m pretty positive I’m going to continue this as inspiration hits, but I’m always open to suggestions. Especially when work is draining most of my creativity. Thanks for reading! :)

©reneejuliet 2020. No part of this material may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, reposted, or translated without consent.

[unpack-my-heart]

i am no bird (no net ensnares me)

The first time Eddie decided to leave for the bright lights of the big city, it was a rainy Tuesday afternoon in January and he’d been drunk on a fermenting promise to himself that was becoming slippery. So slippery was this promise that at any moment he feared he’d drop it, and it would splatter on the floor, messy and irrecoverable. He was nineteen years old; old enough to know better but young enough that his hare-brained decisions could be written off as the recklessness of a youth not yet over. When he’d told the others that he was planning to leave, with the phone crackling wildly under the strain of their seven way conversation, they had all whooped loudly, cheering a victory that he hadn’t yet won.

“I knew this would be the year you’d leave, Eds! I could feel it in my dick”

Fucking gross.

After he’d chewed Richie out for being crude, faux-annoyance honeying his words, he’d remained silent for a very long time, listening to the others trip and stumble over each other, babbling about how good emancipation felt, how the air had never tasted as sweet as it had the day they’d left, the day they’d left Derry and never looked back.

He’d planned to leave, had always meant to leave, had gotten as far as idly scrolling through flight schedules late at night, the moon watching him with her soft, sceptical gaze, but something held him back. The invisible red tether that cut deep welts into his heart tightened viciously whenever the thought of leaving fluttered through his brain, butterfly smooth.  His mother tugged on the tether, and reminded Eddie that his wings had been clipped a long time ago.

When Richie left Derry, nearly two years ago, Eddie hadn’t cried. Dry-eyed, face bright and free from tear-tracks, he’d rubbed soothing circles into Richie’s back as Richie cried, great heaving sobs that dampened Eddie’s almost-scratchy jersey sweater. He’d cried on Eddie’s shoulder for eons of time that they didn’t have, until Richie’s phone began to buzz fiercely. Eddie’s eyes remained firmly, petulantly dry. They’d remained dry when Richie told him, in a voice thick with sorrow, that out of all the Losers, out of all the people he’d ever met and even the people he hadn’t, that his Eds was his favourite. Eddie’s eyes remained dry when he watched Richie shove his guitars and the half-broken metal box full of old mixtapes into his half-broken old car that wheezed almost as much as Eddie did. The car sagged under the weight of Richie’s entire life, with no room for Eddie to clamber in, to mould himself around the suitcases. Eddie’s eyes remained dry as he watched Richie drive mouse-slow out of the driveway, and they’d remained dry when Richie shouted out of the window,

“I’ll never forget you, Eds! Not ever! I’ll always remember you and those fucking shorts!”

Those shorts remained folded away in the back of his wardrobe, unworn, unloved, almost-forgotten.

Eddie didn’t leave.

The second time Eddie decided to leave for the bright lights of the big city, he was twenty-four years old, and working full time at the pharmacy that he’d spent so many wasted hours in over the years, queueing up dutifully, waiting for the prescription to be filled, jittering from foot to foot, as if the verruca cream piled haphazardly on the shelf to his left would leap at him. He’d hop from foot to foot, wondering whether these pills would stop the bruising of his heart, or the mocking voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his own, “you’re cracked you’re damaged you’re ruined”. So many years and so many sugar pills, enough to turn his stomach and make his teeth itch.

The pharmacy was much the same as it ever was, a stagnant pool suspended in the centre of the roaring sea. Aisles of cough syrup and dandruff shampoo bracketed the counter, and Eddie spent his days drumming his fingers on the counter, each pound of each pad against the dull white surface a declaration, a plea.

“You’re never going to leave if you don’t do it now. Rip the band-aid off, Eds, and stop being such a fucking pussy!”

Richie was right in that very frustrating way that Richie was always, always, right, especially when it came to Eddie and his pathological tendency to self-sabotage himself into oblivion. Rather than cradle his life in both of his hands, a fragile little thing that needed nurturing, Eddie had instead condemned it to a solemn existence of apathy and a pretentious sort of melancholy, all the while staring at the little white pills that he’d taken for so long; the little white pills that took the pain away only until they didn’t anymore, lined up neatly in their piss-coloured plastic bottles on the shelves of the pharmacy.

He’d packed his bags with all the gusto he could manage that evening shoving t-shirts and pressed, crisp chinos into an old, dusty rucksack with wild abandon, until he stopped. He stopped, and stared at the bag, really stared at it, and dropped the sweatshirt he’d been holding to the floor. He hadn’t packed his favourite books, the movie ticket stubs he’d saved from when Richie took hilton see the new Star Wars and Eddie had complained bitterly about how ridiculous it was until he’d annoyed Richie so much that he’d been dragged forcefully from the theatre, and they’d gone for burgers instead. There was no room for his favourite shoes, the sweater with the holes in it that Bev had leant him when he was cold and then given to him because the dull purple made the green in his eyes shine brightly, a freshly cut lawn on a summer morning.

Eddie emptied the contents of the bag onto the floor, and stepped over it. Tomorrow, he assured himself, tomorrow he’d leave. Tomorrow.

Eddie didn’t leave.

The third time Eddie decided to leave for the bright lights of the big city, he was thirty-three years old and couldn’t remember why California called his name so loudly, why its siren call echoed across the country, fingers beckoning, seducing. California, a nihilistic melting pot of overworked and underpaid wage slaves who bowed to the corporate bell and submitted themselves to the scrutinizing eye of the Silicon Valley start-ups. That’s what his mother had told him when she’d loomed over his shoulder, pin-ball eyes scanning the screen of his computer. There was nothing there for Eddie, a pharmacist with two degrees under his belt but no actual understanding of how the world worked beyond the safe confines of his small town existence. Highways, supermarkets with more than ten aisles, electric cars, save the turtles, sandals in winter and heatstroke in summer, sweat on your upper lip and tan lines on your knees. California.

His phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is this Eds? Eds Kaspbrak?”

“Don’t call me that! Uh … Who is this?”

“It’s … Rich. Richie?”

A question, not a statement, as if the caller is asking, is that okay? Is it okay that this is Richie?

“Richie? Richie who?”

A pause that stretches like tar, sticky and black.

“Oh shit!”

Remembrance slammed into Eddie, sucker-punch strong. He remembered a tangled mop of dark brown hair, often flecked with paint. He remembered bucked teeth and freckles that skated across skin like grains of sand tossed up in wind. He remembered the lisp, and the gangly limbs that hung awkwardly, octopus limbs that were too long, too grabby, too energetic.

“Richie fucking Tozier!”

“The very same, Eds. Gotta be honest, I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t pick up, that some housewife would answer all, ‘he doesn’t live here anymore’, but … here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“Still there.”

“Still here,” Eddie confirmed, and his gut trembled with the sort of embarrassment that hung in the air low and heavy, like smoke. Like smog.

“I’m in California,” Richie says eventually, “got a sweet little place on the oceanfront, if you ever … y’know …”

Oh. There it is. The static that had been buzzing around Eddie’s brain when he thought of California, the angry bees that stung him for not remembering finally subdued, finally dropped down dead, because Richie was on the other end of the phone, still lisping, voice a little deeper, a little hoarser, a few too many cigarettes and not enough sleep, perhaps, but he was there, and Eddie had remembered.

“Ocean front, you say?”

The most reckless thing Eddie had done before this was leave the house during a torrential rainstorm with only a showerproof coat, knowing full well that the long fingers of Flu would be tapping at his arms in the morning. Now, here he was, sitting in a tacky sea-food restaurant, pushing prawns around on his plate, with someone he hasn’t seen for over a decade, and he’s drunk. Not too drunk, he can still see without his vision blurring, can still count all of the wrinkles that texture the canvas of Richie’s face, and the freckles. He’s not too drunk to wonder whether these are new freckles, or whether these are the same freckles that he used to stare at when they were lying in the quarry, shirts off and chests to the sky, sunning themselves like heat-starved lizards.

Nevertheless, here he is, Richie Tozier, stuffing paella into his face with one hand and waving wildly in the air with the other as he talks through bites of rice.

“Do you remember when you got kicked out of band?”

Richie groans, wounded.

“Don’t fucking remind me, I was scrubbing the deck for weeks after that old trout rang my mother. Real pissed she was, insisted that trombones are certainly not supposed to be used for such nefarious activities. I still think she shoulda’ been more adventurous”

“I’ll never forget the look on her face, Rich, she was so ready to beat the absolute living shit out of you!” Eddie brayed, stray pieces of pasta escaping his mouth as he spoke, disgusting, but in the dim light of the restaurant, Eddie didn’t care.

The wind whipped at Eddie’s face when they staggered out of the restaurant three hours and ninety dollars later, and Richie grabbed at Edide’s chin roughly.

“You never left, did you?”

“You know I fuckin’ didn’t”

“I shouldn’t have left without you, I never should have left you there.”

Eddie pushed at Richie, gentle enough not to hurt but with enough force that Richie staggered backwards. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. I’ve grown roots, Rich. I’m … I’m stuck there, like one of those plants that hibernates over winter but blooms in summer. I would have dragged you down with me.”

Richie readjusted his grip on Eddie’s chin, and tipped Eddie’s head up. Their eyes met.

“I nearly kissed you when I left, you know.” Richie said. “I really nearly did, got this close, but you looked so …”

“So what?”

“Fine. You looked fine. You didn’t even cry.”

Eddie blinked. “I cried every day for a month after you left. Then every other day for at least six after that. I cried so much my mother sent me to the fucking doctor because she thought I had hysteria.”

Richie barked out a laugh, a sad wet noise that sounded more like a sob. “I left you.”

Eddie pushed his face up, out of Richie’s grip, and pushed his lips against Richie’s trembling ones. The kiss is small, timid and Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulder and clung, limpet-like.

It doesn’t last. Richie’s crying too much.

The next day, Eddie leaves.

The fourth time Eddie decided to leave for the bright lights of the big city, he leaves, and never looks back.

(this has been sat in my drafts since early March.)

[12timetraveler]

Mysterious Woman

So I got to write for not one, but two secret santas this year and I had a blast writing them.

This piece is for @smithandrogers, featuring their OC Elaine North and F!reader. (I hope this is what you meant when you asked for Elaine content)

I had a lot of fun researching Elaine (reading their story) and I really loved writing this.

@rdr-secret-santa

You’d been awestruck the moment you first saw her after John had brought her back to camp, only for her to run and be dragged back by Arthur. Even dirty, tired, and mussed up, she was still beautiful. Dark black hair and tan skin that, to you, looked like amber as the light of the campfire glowed over her skin. A scar over her eye that only made her more beautiful and mysterious. Elaine drew the attention of everyone who saw her, man or woman. 

As the days had gone on, Elain almost grew more mysterious, not less. Apparently she spoke practically every language in existence, was part of some organization, or rather she used to be but now was on the run. She talked often about her travels, places you’d heard of but honestly had kind of believed were make-believe. She had a sword for gods sake. This woman was something you’d never seen before, and you were smitten. 

Neither Arthur nor John had kept quiet in their praises of her fighting skills. The fact that they even admitted that they were pretty much useless compared to them only furthered the mystery of the woman. 

You had it bad for her, you knew. Numerous times one of the other girls had caught you staring at her from across the camp. If only they knew how many times you’d caught yourself doing it and looked away before anyone else noticed. 

Your infatuation was only made worse by her present. She’d brought something back from Saint Denis for all the girls. You’d simply asked for a new hat, seeing as yours was falling apart. You expected just a simple straw hat of some kind. You were speechless when you saw what she’d gotten you. 

The hat was beautiful, wide brimmed to keep the sun off your face, but not massive like the ladies of the big cities would wear. You weren’t sure of the style. Maybe gambler or cutter or... well you didn’t know hats well enough to know the style. But it was suitable for your lifestyle, good for working and riding. Tucked in the band around it was a small accessory. You recognized the handy work of the local trapper. Not only had she bought you a hat, but she’d gone and bought you a beautiful hat accessory as well.

“I knew that would compliment your lovely face,” She said, smiling as you reverently put the hat on your head. It fit perfectly. You felt yourself flush, and you smiled at her, still unable to form words. The two of you stood there in silence as you gaped, trying to form some sort of words. 

“Come on now,” Abigail said in a motherly voice, barely hiding her amusement. “What do we say when someone does something nice for you?” She encouraged. The other girls giggled. 

“Th-thank you, Miss North,” You stammered. Elaine gave you a beautiful smile, and you thought you might faint. 

“You’re welcome,” She said. “But please, I’ve told you, call me Elaine.” 

“R-right. Thank you, Elaine.” You said, fingering the brim of your hat. Elaine smiled. As she turned to leave, to hand out the rest of her presents from Saint Denis, her fingers brushed against yours. 

Wait... could she... did she like you too? She had gone to all this extra trouble for you after all. Yes, she bought others gifts. But it seemed she’d gone out of her way to get you something you’d treasure. And that smile she’d given you... and the way her fingers brushed yours...

No. It had to be wishful thinking. Elaine was beautiful and mysterious and strong and intelligent. She’d never go for some country outlaw girl like you. Not when she could have any man in the world at her beck and call. 

But still, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, she put a little more thought into your gift than the other ladies. The rest of the day you couldn’t get her out of your mind as you scrubbed Sean’s suspiciously stained undergarments. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, you miraculously found yourself with some free time on your hands. There weren’t many chores that needed doing, and even Mrs. Grimshaw had to admit that she was just giving you busy work at this point. She eventually relented and gave you ladies the rest of the day to yourselves. 

The other girls had convinced John and Lenny to accompany them and Jack into town for a day out of camp. You’d elected to stay behind, more than ready to just have a peaceful, lazy day. You lounged under a tree, watching the clouds above and fiddling with grass, straw, dandelions, whatever your fingers idly found. 

It was nice to let your mind just turn off and watch the clouds roll by, day dreaming about a peaceful life for you all, where you could stay free, but maybe find a more legal way to do so. Dutch always talked of such grand plans. You hoped whatever they involved, you could one day get off of laundry duty. You’d run away from home to avoid becoming a housewife, but you sure as shit felt like one most days. 

Maybe you could raise horses, train them, show them. Or maybe you’d have a little garden, growing herbs galore. Maybe you’d tan pelts and sell them. You weren’t sure. You had a sinking suspicion that if you all did manage to find your little quiet corner of the world, you’d likely end up in the kitchen cooking like you were now. But it was nice to imagine at least. 

You were pulled from your daydreams by your name being called from across camp. You propped yourself up on your elbows, and your heart stopped when you saw Elaine striding toward you, her high-waisted trousers making her legs look deliciously long, an elegant, confident sway to her hips...

“You busy?” She asked as she approached. You shook your head. 

“We got all our chores done early today. Most of the others went off into town but I decided to stay behind and relax,” You said. 

“Would you like to go out riding with me?” She asked. You glanced around, wondering where Arthur was. He was usually the one to go riding with her. You saw him sitting in his tent. Why wasn’t she asking him? You pulled your attention back to Elaine, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Sure,” You said, putting your hat back on and pulling yourself to your feet, brushing your skirt off. “We going on a job or somethin’ like that?” 

“Something like that,” She said vaguely, smiling at you. “Come on. Saddle up.” She said. You paused. 

“Oh...” You hesitated. “I don’t have a horse,” You said quietly. Your horse had been your best friend for some years now. But you’d loaned him to Jenny for the Blackwater heist, and he’d died when she had. You hadn’t had the money, nor the heart to replace him. 

“I’m sorry,” Elaine said gently, clearly reading your somber expression. You shook it off, giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It was just a horse,” You tried to brush it off, though you could see Elaine didn’t buy into it. “I’ll see if I can borrow someone else's.” 

“Why don’t you just ride with me?” Elaine suggested. “Ontario’s certainly big enough to carry both of us.” She pointed out. You smiled and nodded. 

“Okay,” you said, mood lightening some at the prospect of riding with Elaine, arms wrapped around her waist, pressed up against her strong back...

“Come on then,” She said. The two of you walked side-by-side to where Ontario was grazing alongside the other horses. He whickered when he saw the two of you approaching. You’d seen him be stubborn, but you knew he was just a big softy. You pulled out a sugar cube from your satchel and fed it to him. He whuffed over your hand in gratitude. 

Elaine launched herself into the saddle, then steered Ontario up alongside a rock, so that you could pull yourself onto his rear. Once you were settled on his rump, hands resting respectfully on Elaine’s waist (despite you wanting to wrap them around her tightly,) Elaine pushed Ontario into a smooth canter out of camp. 

The two of you followed the trail down towards the river. Elaine took a left, following the river toward the lake. The two of you rode in friendly silence for a little ways, just enjoying the sounds of nature. 

“So, what’s this job?” You asked as you rounded a corner and the lake came into view. 

“Oh, I never said there was a job,” Elaine teased. “You inferred that on your own. I simply asked if you wanted to go out on a ride with me.” 

“Then what are we doing out here?” You asked, a slight laugh in your voice. 

“What, I can’t just want to spend time with a pretty lady?” Elaine flirted back. You breath caught in your throat. Before you could respond, a harsh laugh caught your attention. Ahead of you, a wagon lay blocking the trail. Two men in green bandanas stood on either side of it. O’Driscolls.

“Lookie here, gents,” One of the men laughed, “A couple of wee mouses. Now we can have some fun,” His Irish accent made the words sound pretty, but the meaning sent shivers up your spine. You glanced to your left, then your right. More O’Driscolls on either side. You were surrounded. 

“Off the horse, ladies,” Another man called, waving his gun at you. Elaine turned her head to look at you and nodded. You trusted her. If she was half as good as John and Arthur said she was, you weren’t in any danger. You weren’t exactly damsel in distress material either. 

You slowly slipped off the horse, allowing yourself to stumble and fall to one knee. You quickly pulled your secret weapon from your boot, hiding up your coat sleeve without anyone noticing. The nearest O’Driscoll grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, holding you close to stop you from getting away. He reeked of shitty moonshine and body odor, and you had to stop yourself from gagging. 

“Hey, I know who you are,” One of the O’Driscolls called as Elaine dismounted. “You’re that Van der Linde girl everyone’s kickin’ such a fuss up over.” 

“You’re a Van der Linde mouse, huh?” The man crooned in your ear. “Well that means we can have some extra fun.” He murmured. 

“What can I do for you Gentlemen?” Elaine asked. She glanced around. “And I use that term lightly.” The man who seemed to be in charge barked a laugh. 

“You think you’re in any position to be making smart-ass remarks?” He asked, “‘specially when Seamus is becoming so... familiar with your friend there?” The man holding you had wrapped an arm around your middle and was sniffing your hair. Elaine’s expression darkened when she saw that. You gave her what you hoped was a reassuring look. You could stand men being creepy for a minute, so long as she got you both out of this alive. Elaine seemed to get the message. 

“That’s better, little mouse,” The man sneered, stepping toward Elaine. “Wouldn’t want your friend to get hurt now, would you? You see, Colm wants you brought to him. Dead or alive he doesn’t really care. But he has no interest in one of Van der Linde’s whores. Your friend could go with minimal damage.” the man holding you chuckled in your ear, and you grit your teeth. Yeah. Minimal damage. You sincerely doubted it. 

“So...” Elaine hesitated. “I go with you, and she walks free?” she asked. 

“Free as a bird. She can flit back to Dutch and his boys, ready to whore another day.” He said. Elaine turned back to look at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You nodded ever so slightly. You were both ready to jump into action. You were just waiting for her move. 

“Well, how can I refuse such an offer?” Elaine asked, stepping toward the man. He grinned and reached for her hand. She grabbed his wrist and swung him down into the dirt. You heard his nose crack as it broke, and he went limp as he fell unconscious immediately. 

You spun in your captors grasp, knife slipping from your sleeve into your hand. You lifted your arm and brought the knife down on the mans neck, twisting to make sure you hit your target. You were greeted with a stream of blood when you removed your knife. Perfect. 

You sprinted into the trees, knowing that armed with only knives, you were a sitting duck if you couldn’t get something to cover your back. You slid in the dirt, back slamming against a large boulder as you turned to face the road. 

The O’Driscolls had recovered from their original shock, and were engaged in a firefight with Elaine, who had ducked behind the wagon that was blocking the road. You pulled a throwing knife from your other boot and with a flick of your wrist, downed one of the O’Driscolls. You may not be the best gunslinger in the world, but you were damn good with your knives. You downed two more before something tackled you from the left, pinning you to the forest floor. 

Another slimy O’Driscoll towered over you, holding you down. You squirmed underneath him, trying desperately to throw off his balance, but he stayed steady, holding you firmly in place. You didn’t like the way he was grinning at you one bit, and the hand that was holding your shoulder came to your neck, fingers ready to squeeze. 

With a scream of rage you brought your knife up, stabbing blindly. Your arm jarred as your knife stopped suddenly, knife getting stuck in one of the man’s ribs. He let out a cry of pain, but didn’t let you go, resting his weight on your neck. You coughed and gasped as you felt your airway beginning to constrict, but before he could start to do any real damage, he collapsed on top of you. 

You lay beneath the man, panting, unsure of what had happened. You were aware of warm blood trickling over your shoulder. It was then that you caught a glimpse of the bullet wound on the side of his head. Someone’d shot him.

With a grunt, you rolled him off of you, sitting up. You could still hear at least two gunshots, so Elaine was still fighting with some of the O’Driscolls, but you didn’t doubt it was her who’d saved your life, though you couldn’t quite spot her or the assailants. 

You grabbed your knife and tugged, finally pulling it free from where it was stuck in the man’s ribs before ducking behind a tree. You saw one of the O’Driscolls that was fighting Elaine perched behind a crate, facing away from you, toward the wagon. Grabbing your last throwing knife, you tossed it at his head, hitting your mark perfectly. 

There was one last shot from Elaine, then silence. You waited, still behind that tree. But it seemed the fighting was over. You heard Elaine call your name, and you breathed a sigh of relief that she was okay. 

“I’m here. I’m okay,” you called, stepping out from behind the tree. You located the three men who had died by your throwing knives and retrieved them. Elaine came around the side of the wagon. Her face paled as she took in your appearance, and she hurried over to you. 

“Oh my god, where are you hurt?” She asked worriedly, looking you over. You glanced down at your blood-soaked dress. 

“Oh. It’s not mine,” You assured her. “I’m fine. Just some scrapes and bruises.” Elaine bit her lip, not quite looking convinced. 

“Come on. Let’s get out of here and get cleaned up.” She suggested, whistling for Ontario. She pushed you up onto his rump before climbing up in front of you and galloping away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

You rode down to the lakeside, hidden from the road by the trees. Elaine had dragged you out into the water, helping you scrub away the blood. As it washed away, it became clear that you were right, and none of the blood was yours. Elaine seemed to deflate with relief. You felt a warm feeling your stomach at the thought that she’d been so worried for you. 

Once you’d washed the blood from your skin, and as much as you could from your dress, the two of you had gone to shore to dry off. You carefully cleaned your knife as you did. 

"Where'd you get that?" Elaine asked, looking at the knife in your hands. 

"Family heirloom. Supposed to go to my brother but I stole it when I left home."

"No, I mean where were you hiding it?" 

"Oh. My boot." You said, drying it off and lifting the hem of your skirt. Tucked into your boot was a little sheath for the dagger. You slipped it back in. "I've got some throwing knives in the other boot," you said, turning and showing her the bundle of throwing knives. "And a hunting knife in my garter." You added, lifting up your skirt to show Elaine the holstered hunting knife tucked into your garter. Elaine whistled.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you?" She chuckled. You felt your face heat up. You shrugged, quickly looking away to hide your blush.

"Guess I learned a few times, better to keep armed than be caught without." You chuckled. You glanced over at Elaine to find her staring at you. “What, you thought I’d run with the infamous Van der Linde gang and not know how to fight?” You laughed. She shook her head. 

“No. I knew you all likely had secret strengths like that,” She said. “I’m just glad I got to witness you in action.” She said. “You’re really good with your knives. I saw you down those men.” 

“Well, that one man would have had me if you hadn’t shot him,” You said, fiddling with your skirt, unused to praise. “Thanks for that, by the way. I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you.” She was quiet for a moment. 

“Well we can’t have that,” She said. You jumped in surprise, but didn’t pull away when you felt her fingers come up to your cheek, pushing a stray hair out of your face. You glanced over at her, giving her a shy smile. She grinned back, tilting her head slightly to admire you better. 

“N-no I suppose not,” You stammered. “I very much enjoy being alive.” What the hell were you even saying?! How did this woman turn you to mush so quickly. With her... muscular arms and warm eyes and plump lips. Lips that were slowly moving closer to yours. Or were yours moving closer to hers? 

You sucked in a breath through your nose as your lips met hers, automatically melting into the kiss. You weren’t entirely sure you weren’t dreaming, or dead and in heaven, but you weren’t going to question it, or ruin it. You were here, on the beach with Elaine, looking over the lake as the sun touched the mountains to your right. 

Elaine’s hand came up to cup your face, and you scooted closer, fingers carding through her beautiful dark hair as you leaned closer, kissing her more eagerly, sloppily. Elaine’s lips kept a calm pace, gently reining you in some, and the kiss once again returned to something sweet and soft. 

Elaine was a mysterious woman, that was for sure. But when she kissed you, one mystery became perfectly clear. Elaine North was just as sweet on you as you were on her. And fuck if that didn’t feel good.

[a-dorin]

youth | the zabrak brothers

a/n: i recently got an anon asking about the zabrak brothers in high school and college! so i am going to be answering their question! sorry if i got carried away with the headcanons! enjoy :))

high school 

all three boys weren’t together in high school until maul & feral were freshman, while savage was a sophomore 

they attended an elite private school on dathomir, a costly institution that prepared students for higher education

it was run by the nightsisters, a religious group of women  

so, the boys all had to wear uniforms that consisted of:

grey or black slacks 

polished dress shoes

a black, navy, or burgundy blazer with the school’s logo stitched on the pocket 

a freshly pressed tie 

sometimes, there were “casual” days 

where the boys could wear khakis with a black, navy, or burgundy polo

maul was the one who broke dress code the most

he either refused to wear the tie, always left the top buttons undone, wore his silver chain (”no visible jewelry allowed”), and painted his nails black (”no nail polish allowed on boys”)

as predicted, the brothers got into trouble constantly 

whether it was arriving late to class, cursing, or brawling with one another, the brothers were sent to the dean’s office often 

one time, maul prepared a speech discussing the importance of “knotting in the male zabraki species” (this was a speech performed in chemistry class) and when the teacher suggested he go to the dean’s office, a devilish smirk painted his features

“perhaps you would like to see the knot yourself, mrs. zula?” (mrs. zula was a strict, older, batty nightsister) 

needless to say, maul was the troublemaker of the group, with his main talent consisting of his sharp tongue and quick wit 

savage was your typical athletic type: involved in more than one sport, it was his only extracurricular, he would weight lift in the morning before class started, then practice for hours after school 

savage’s favorite sport was wrestling, and he was quite good at it. he tried saber wielding, but the sport was too technical, too strategic. wrestling is similar, but savage excelled at it due to his perseverance and brute strength

feral was involved in a variety of athletic activities: student council, debate team, scholastic bowl, baking club, peer mentoring, as well as the theatre troupe. he was also an active participant in art club

on the other hand, the only activity maul tended to really enjoy was saber wielding, as he had started the sport at a young age

although all of the boys were involved in different activities, they all actively supported one another

even if savage was sweaty and exhausted from wrestling or track practice, he would swing by the school’s auditorium, making it just in time for the latest fall play or spring musical 

maul always saved a seat for savage 

and the boys always brought a bouquet of flowers for every performance, just for feral

at home wrestling meets, maul would buy a decently sized portion of the bake sale table (which always earned a wide, bright, grin from feral)

savage and feral had a tendency to be the loudest at saber competitions. feral typically brought a freshly painted/drawn sign with a cheesy slogan (maul is number one! or maul will make you bawl!) 

savage and maul were exceptional athletes, earning championship titles

yes, their plaques and photos are still on the walls to this day 

since maul was a saber wielder, he was quite popular with girls. it is such a competitive and grueling sport, so many girls crushed on him 

however, he paid no mind, either just entertaining the flirting or paying no mind to it

which, savage often gave maul shit for 

“the ladies are practically drooling over you”

“i’m not interested in any of them. they just want me for my saber”

even though they were all apart of diverse friend groups, the brothers would always sit by one another at lunch, chatting about their days 

and no matter how horrible of a day they were having, the laughter and smiles couldn’t be contained at the lunch table

there were other little moments too

like all three piling into savage’s beat up honda civic to carpool, early in the morning 

feral and maul would snooze in the car while savage lifted weights before class

or helping one another get ready for homecoming and prom, straightening ties or smoothing out wrinkles in suits (cue feral frantically running around the house in his boxers the morning of prom, steamer in his hand)

the boys never really had girlfriends or boyfriends in high school, they had one another, and that was enough

at savage’s graduation, the twins were emotional, gazing at their older brother with nothing but adoration, eyes glossy with tears

savage was the class of 2005, on his way to mustafar central on a wresting scholarship 

their last summer together as a trio was bittersweet. 

even if maul and savage bickered, feral knew in his heart that it pained maul to see savage go 

when maul received his scholarship offer his senior year, feral engulfed him in a massive hug, while savage hollered on the phone 

at his signing, they were the proudest donning their “mustafar central” gear with pride (savage even came home from the midst of his freshman year to show his support)

feral brought a cookie cake, while savage brought the balloons

tears brimmed maul’s eyes when feral opened the admission letter, and savage was on the phone, eagerly anticipating the news

the whole house shook as yells of joy echoed through it 

even though feral believed that savage wouldn’t be able to make it to his last spring musical (it was beauty and a beast that year) savage was able to make it 

needless to say, feral was very surprised when he emerged from the dressing room, his older brother standing there with a bouquet of flowers

“what can i say? i couldn’t miss it.” 

at the twins’ graduation, savage sat in the bleachers, the camcorder shaky as he bawled (savage was a crybaby that day) 

maul and feral were apart of the class of 2006

 feral on his way to a culinary school in coruscant (his dream school!)

while maul had his scholarship with mustafar central, training to be a professional athlete with a major in exercise science 

college

college was a completely different ballgame for the brothers 

even though they were separated, they messaged one another constantly, whether it was texting (texting was starting to become extremely popular) or through myspace

mustafar central was not a large university, the enrollment about 6,500 students

meanwhile, feral was at a well-known culinary school in the heart of coruscant, where there were about 1,000 students at his college 

often, feral joked that maul and savage were the “country mice” while he was the “city mouse” 

from the beginning, maul was beyond elated by the sheer amount of freedom he was given

he was able to expand his style, go out and party, and the best of all, maul grew as a person

he socialized more, gaining a large social circle 

since savage was a wrestler and maul was a saber wielder, they had completely different schedules

yet, they carpooled together for target or walmart runs 

they ate together in the dining hall when they could 

however, there were mandatory dorm visits, where savage would help maul with the science classes he was struggling with, while maul helped savage with english and social science courses

“how are you a stem major yet cannot use grammar”

“before you go and chastise me, how about we discuss your organic chemistry grade?”

when he could, feral would travel to mustafar, surprising maul or savage at their meets 

maul and savage did the same, popping in at feral’s apartment unannounced, bringing pick-me-ups and other odds and ends

savage would have maul tag along to parties, as savage was actively involved in a frat 

maul had a knack for strategy, so he often was the champion of beer pong, calculating who would be his best partner, along with what angle would give him the best shot 

the best part of college for the brothers though, was the reunion during breaks 

they loved catching up with one another, sneaking in alcohol and sharing all of the stories that came to mind 

their favorite spot was on the rooftop, gazing at the stars 

life in college was good for the zabrak brothers

it was healthy for them, as they all got to explore their individuality even more, but give one another support and love while they found themselves

when feral came out to his brothers at the end of freshman year, maul and savage said nothing, but rather scooped him into their arms, in a massive cuddle pile 

his junior year, maul was gaining traction as a saber wielder, becoming well known across the galaxy 

he was undefeated, reigning victorious over not only obi-wan kenobi, an infamous saber wielder from university of corsucant, but countless others as well 

savage was winning world championships, beginning to train for the galaxy title 

feral was content at his college, earning all sorts of praise, his dream of a bakery becoming more and more of a reality 

although, one fateful evening, their lives were forever changed

*****

tagged:  @sapphicstars​  @maulieber @starflyer-104 @alwayshappysith​ @doobiwankenooku  @magicalkitkat12  @dartheldur  @princessayveke @multifandombtch  @spaghetti-666  @lis-ard  @swimmingsloths @sithmando  @mother-0f-monsters @bonniewinchester @bonesaldente @maidofsionis @bespectacled-bunny @arsonistvoyager @tinalbion @nottodaysatan-8866 @vei-saretti @maybe-your-left @isabewwwa @aki-iko @corrupt-fvcker @ranoutofideas71​

[0ne-direction-imaginess]

Retribution

Good morning y’all :)  Thank you so much for the support on the Andy Barber fic. This time I wanted try writing about darker themes. Just a little bit dark. I’m so soft for Ben Affleck’s version of Batman. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Black female reader (not yet)

Warnings: Mentions of death, dark themes

You can’t help but let your mind wander to the image of the girl you thought you’d be in your twenties. Who would you be if you grew up halfway across the country? Hell, at this point you’d even settle for the city across the bay. You could get used to seeing Metropolis’ ass in his blue spandex. But life had other plans for you. Whether you like it or not, Gotham is your home. And it’s the home that turned you into the monster you are today. 

You can’t help but think back to when you last felt happy, genuinely happy. All you think about is your father. It had been just the two of you for as long as you could remember. Your father worked a few jobs for the Falcone family every so often. Usually around your birthday or when things were a little tight. After you graduated high school, your father started working for the Falcones full time so that you could go to Gotham University. 

You lost your father a year ago; he was murdered.

 After your father passed the Falcones took you in. You waitress on weekends at the family’s restaurant and in turn, they keep the lights on in your apartment. You do your best to keep your head down and mind your own business. The family has been nothing but kind to you since your father’s passing, but you know your place. There is a reason the Falcones are one of the most feared families in Gotham, and you’d rather not know the details. If you want to make it out of here alive that is.

Hushed conversations are nothing new here, but you knew that this conversation was different from the way the men stopped talking as soon as you approached their table. You could see traces of sympathy in their otherwise cold, distant eyes. They murmured their thank yous as you dropped off their food. Just from the way your stomach churned, you knew what they were talking about. You’ve only ever felt that unsettling feeling in your stomach the night he died. You pretended to do busy work around their table so that you could hear bits and pieces of what they said. From what you could tell it was a shipment gone wrong. 

Carmine Falcone was doing business with the Joker. Business that ended in your father’s death and the presence of Gotham’s vigilante. Batman and the Joker have been playing their cat and mouse game for years now. And every time they played innocent people died. But innocent might not be the right word to use; no one in Gotham is innocent. We’re all just trying to make a living, sometimes regardless of the cost. Batman, the Joker, the Falcones, and everyone else who was trying to grab at any kind of power in this city is a murderer. But Batman might be the worst of them all. He claims to be different; to be what this city needs to renew itself. His plan to renew includes beating people within an inch of their lives for information he should be able to get somewhere else. He was there the night your father died. Your father is probably dead because of him. If you are going to die in this city you’re going to die doing something worthwhile. You are going to kill the Batman. 

[desiree-harding-fic]

oh shit that really sucks :( My city has the highest recorded number corona patients of the entire country, but besides the "if you feel even slightly sick, stay home" no college things are being cancelled yet. As for rejeancy AU prompts... Can we have some Lup n Kravitz meeting for the first time? or taakitz + Lup hanging out? (idk if you've done those I mightve missed some)

Thank you for the kind words, dear. And ooooo I haven’t thought about writing a scene where Lup and Krav meet, that sounds like fun.

^^^ ok that was Desiree of two weeks ago, this Desiree is back with 2000 words that barely fit the prompt but u know what what else is new enjoy!!!

*~*~*~*~*

She caught sight of the house for the first time as the carriage crested a hill. Massive, done in pale stone and nestled in the crook of the valley below her like something out of a painting, down to the large stream she could see bisecting the property, to the sheep that grazed on the hills father out from the house. A rolling green park, and through the land, in a winding line, the road dipped behind copses of trees and reemerged, until she could see it running all the way up into a wide, well-kept drive before the front door. 

All this she saw in a second, before the road turned, and the view was obscured.

She did not look again. Something about the scene and all the promises it implied, her connection to it, however tangential, made something heavy settle in the bottom of her stomach.

And yet, her thoughts turned to Taako. As shocking as the news of his marriage had been, as skeptical as Lup was about the true nature of it, she could not help but long to see her brother again. Three months was too long. They had thought the holiday would do her good, but in truth the time she had spent at the Burnsides’ house had only brought her ill news from seemingly every front. She needed her brother.

If nothing else, she thought, it would be good to see him again. If he was not changed by marriage as she feared.

The carriage rumbled along the road, until she could feel it slowing, until she could feel the shape of an incline. She suddenly felt something like a great illness wash over her, a settling dread, and an exhaustion so acute and complete she almost wished not to be made to move at all. She leaned her head back against the wall of the carriage, and closed her eyes, and wished, suddenly, to be gone from this place, even to be locked up in her dingy room in Tostaada’s home, if only for the fact that it would be familiar. If only because it meant that so much had not changed, that Lup had a handle on the world, a foothold in it, and that her life was not being thrown into disarray in new ways each moment.

The carriage came to a stop. Her eyes snapped open. The walls of the carriage mocked her.

There were steps approaching. Lup breathed deeply, swallowed the lump in her throat. The handle of the door was jostled, and then it was open.

She did not recognize the man who helped her out, for the moment she cast her eyes upon the gravel drive before the house she saw him.

Taako.

Hurrying from the entrance to the courtyard of that fine house toward her carriage, a grin splitting his face as he looked on her, and Lup couldn’t contain herself as her feet touched the ground, and gathering her shawl around her she ran to her brother, threw her arms around his neck, and embraced him.

He was just the same, the smell of him and the shape of his arms around her and his head at her shoulder as it always had been, and Lup took a shaky breath and held him tight and god, how she had missed him. She must’ve looked a sight, exhausted from travel, unladylike and childish in her greeting, but she could not bring herself to care. She missed her brother too much to care.

“Lulu,” he said softly, in way of greeting, and like magic, nothing seemed as terrible as it had a moment ago. Taako was with her. What could she not weather with Taako beside her?

“I missed you,” she said, muffled in his shoulder. Taako chuckled.

“Missed you too, Lu,” he said, and then, all too soon, he pulled out of the hug, stepping back, smiling like nothing in the world was wrong.

And then he turned.

And for the first time since she arrived, Lup noticed the other man.

“Lup,” Taako said, “I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Kravitz. Kravitz, my sister.”

“Miss Lup,” Kravitz said, bowing low to Lup’s curtsy. Lower, she thought briefly, than her station deserved, comparatively. “Welcome to Astral. And please allow me to express what an honor and a pleasure it is to finally make your acquaintance. Since Taako first spoke of you I have been eagerly awaiting our introduction.”

He was handsome, Lup had to own. But the more she looked at him, the more she was convinced his features were rather too fine for her taste. They seemed to have been sculpted of marble, or invented at the end of a painter’s brush. Indeed, she studied the pleasant expression painting his face and thought it looked rather like the marbles she’d seen in the fine halls of the wealthy; each minute shift seemed choreographed to show itself to the highest level of beauty, and as such, Lup could find no earnestness in him.

But Taako was positively beaming beside him, and Lup had agreed to live in the man’s home. So she turned her face to a pleasant smile as best she could.

“Thank you for your kindness,” she said, a vague comment simply for the fact that it felt right to thank him, though Lup could not imagine what for. “I too have been awaiting our introduction since I received Taako’s letter.”

He could sense her hesitance, Lup was certain, but if he did, he played it off with much cordiality.

“You must be tired, after such a long journey,” he said, “come, let us retire into the house. I will have some of my men see to your things, and call up some tea from the kitchen.”

She was tired. Long days in the carriage always tired her. They had traveled more strenuously than they could have, but by the time Lup left home, she had been desperate to see Taako.

He walked beside Kravitz, and Lup trailed behind them, just slightly, as they entered. 

Each chamber they passed through, corridor and sitting room, seemed finer than the last. She could hear Taako and Kravitz prattling on about this and that but could not bring herself to listen, so amazed was she by the sheer wealth implied by each space. At moments, she seemed to forget she was not touring the house of a rich and distant lord, like so many other families on summer holidays through the country, and would not be asked to tip the housekeeper upon her departure.

Finally, they came to a halt in a sitting room at the back of the house, overlooking the gardens and grounds beyond. The view was expansive out of the tall windows, and Lup ran her hands along the low sills as she gazed out. Flowers of every shade and kind, and trimmed hedges, and fountains, and beyond that, just as she had seen on the drive in, rolling fields, the most attractive countryside one could wish to see during an afternoon tea. There was almost a possessiveness to it, she thought, and the thought soured her tongue. She suddenly felt terribly out of place in her shabby travelling clothes, her day dress she had had since she was fifteen that was now faded from its original color, her plain shawl draped at her elbows.

She turned away from the window, looking back into the room, and Taako was seated on one of the sofas surrounding a low tea table, watching her, a discerning expression on his face.

For the first time she took in his clothes. The white of his collar was brighter than ever before, clean and pressed. The fabrics were of a finer weave, there was more color in them, more detail. And the fit… they were not handed down and taken in. These clothes were made for him, and she saw him holding himself differently in them.

He did not shrink away from the expansive space, the mirrors on the walls and the polished stone floors and frescos on the ceiling. Rather, he seemed to walk in a way that filled it, and it occurred to her then, as she took in the sitting room there, the vases on pedestals along the tapestried walls, the satiny sofas and marble tables between them, that as out of place as she must look, a shivering country mouse wrapped in her worn shawl, that Taako did not. That Taako was master of this house that seemed halfway to a palace, and that he believed it.

Somewhere, while Lup had been away, Taako had ascended, seamlessly, and Lup was suddenly terrified she would never be able to join him.’

“Come sit,” he said, his contemplative eyes still fixed on her.

“Where is Kravitz,” she asked.

“He left to see to a few details of settling you in,” Taako said. “You disappeared for a while.”

Lup laughed humorlessly.

“I’m sorry.”

Taako’s expression shifted, minutely, into a frown.

“Come here, Lulu.”

It was still her brother’s voice, and Lup, in all her life, could never deny him.

She sat beside him on the sofa. Tea had come from somewhere and Taako made himself busy fixing her a cup. There was platter too, of biscuits. Fresh fruit. A truly exorbitant number of cakes and tea sandwiches for three (now two) people.

“Who’s going to eat them?” Lup asked. Taako blinked in confusion for a moment before the understanding downed in his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, and then shrugged. “Servants, probably, to be honest. I’ve tried requesting fewer, but they don’t seem to have taken to heart yet that we don’t need several dozen sandwiches for one afternoon tea. You should try them, though, they’re… quite good.” He handed her the tea. She took a sip.

“You don’t like him,” Taako said, and Lup froze. He did not have to say who he meant.

“Taako,” she started, and what could she say? “He seems… very nice.”

“A glowing report from you,” Taako said dryly, stirring his own cup. He did not meet her eyes.

“Taako,” but there was no more to say. She could not defend herself. In her heart, a thousand worries bubbled up. The marriage had come so quickly, and with no warning, and upon meeting Kravitz he did not strike her with any strong impression other than that… he was rich. And after their aunt died and left them with Tostaada, she and Taako had been in dire straights, to be sure, but she had not thought it was so dire that Taako would -

“It’s just -” she blurted, and then held her tongue. But Taako waited, turned his gaze to her, raised his eyebrows over the brim of his teacup as though to urge her on.

“Do you love him, Taako?” It burst from her, she being unable to hold the question that had plagued her for two months any longer. She wished to take his hand, but he was holding a teacup. Hers, reaching out for him, landed indistinctly on his knee.

Taako paused a long moment, not looking at her. He set his tea down on the table, the soft clink of porcelain on stone seeming to fill the entire room. She could see the muscles of his jaw working, clenching and unclenching the way they did when there was something he wanted to say but was not sure he could. And she knew, in that moment, that she had been right the whole time, that the threat of poverty had finally overtaken Taako’s heart, and he had been too afraid to continue on without it resolved. And resolved it was. But at what cost?

In that silence before Taako’s answer she imagined a thousand things. Imagined Taako’s cold, distant life with a man he could not love, and wondered, sickly, if all of the comfort, all of the brocades and fine china and tea sandwiches in the world would fill the ache in his heart of a life without love.

And then Taako took a deep breath that seemed to shatter the room.

And he looked at her, and his eyes were deeper than the ocean as viewed from Magnus’s door, and were so earnest she felt fixed in place by them. She could see tears welling in the corners. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw Taako cry.

“Lulu,” he said, and he grabbed her hand, squeezed it tight. He was smiling. “I think I do.”

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 7 Review/Remix

Last episode before the holiday break. The long long long holiday break. And here I am only posting my review the night before we come back... I was having a lot of fun playing my new video games, okay? Let’s just get right into this with the joke everyone has already made. War: What is it good for? Actually a lot, if you can believe it. Only in this specific context though, because the warfare in the American streets these last few days is disgusting and emblematic of what has been wrong with the country for a while. A government leader sending his followers into the nation’s capital on a mission of rage and personal catharsis? Ick. At least in RWBY the tyrant isn’t attacking members of his own population... Oh wait, Mantle. :P

For a moment you might be fooled into thinking we’re starting back in the farmlands of Mistral, maybe getting another look at Oscar’s earlier life or seeing a little more of Nora’s mysteriously tragic past before she and Ren met. But no, these are the wheat farms on the outskirts of Atlas and Sabyrs are charging through like raptors through the tall grass in Lost World. A battalion of Atlesian soldiers, human soldiers I might add, stand armed to meet them. But even if they’re armed they are by no means ready. Monstra keeps coughing up a new wave of Grimm, and I do mean a wave, every minute or two and Atlas is pretty damn whelmed in the face of it. There are some big bots with guns standing in straight lines, but the majority of the defense put up by Remnant’s supreme authority on military power and strength is mortal men with fear in their hearts rather than expendable robot soldiers. And the big bots seem to be lined up in a way that the ones in the front block the ones in the back, so that’s just poor planning too. It’s just a concerning sight all together, and they are not efficiently handling the coming enemy. We cut up to Ironwood in his office, and it seems he is not dealing with this situation well at all. We know he’s under a lot of stress from all the recent events, but they are in fact mostly his own fault due to his poor decision making skills in times of crisis, and his single minded drive he calls a Semblance. Speaking of the eternally expanding list of Ironwood’s bad ideas, he decides to evacuate all the civilians into Atlas’ below ground subway tunnels. Fun fact: There were Apathy among the Grimm Monstra has been spitting out. Second Fun Fact: Apathy were last seen thriving and murdering in an abandoned underground tunnel system beneath a well. If one is familiar with fantasy television pop culture of the last decade, the Crypts of Winterfell might pop into your mind as a similarly poor place to hide all your unarmed women and children. Y’know, cuz in Game of Thrones they were facing a guy who could raise the dead as his minions and crypts are just tunnels full of corpses. Just saying, this could end up being a non-birthday massacre. Whatever captain of lieutenant Ironwood was talking to is hesitant to go along with this idea, but Ironwood puts his foot down by putting his fist down. And so his voice comes on over the city-wide PA system to tell everyone they need to get down into the subway for their own safety. Compared to the organized marching and relative calm of the poor folks down in Mantle, these rich fat cats practically trample each other to run and scream down the stairs. A father is concerned his daughter is going to get snatched up by a swarm of Lancers, but seems even more upset by the squad of airships swooping in to combat them. 

Speaking of airships, we cut to the one Marrow and Harriet are flying. The Ace Ops have arrested YRJ, because of course they did, and they all hear radio chatter as pilots are reporting in about how Monstra is too tough for them to pierce from the outside with any of the weapons available to them. Winter checks in over comms to report her team’s limited successes, and Ironwood tells her to stay on jailor duty for a bit. Yang snarks at Winter for continuing to follow orders despite the circumstances, but conversation is stifled by Monstra coming into view for the group. Jaune laments that the beast now serving as Oscar’s confinement is larger than they had imagined from a distance, and Vine continues to be rigid in his assertions as to just what Grimm can and cannot do. “Grimm don’t take prisoners” he says, as if that’s an irrefutable fact. It’s not like any Grimm have done anything new or unheard of recently, like talk or grow wings or exist within a river of evil sludge or shoot up miles into the air as a geyser or have gravity Dust crystals in their underbelly to fly, or as you are witnessing right now belch out ponds worth of sludge from with waves of Grimm are emerging to fight your ground troops. Yep, we definitely know every single thing a Grimm does, especially one brought here by the mistress of the entire Grimm collective who is commanding most of them here. You sure are smart, Vine... Yang continues to be riled up and ask they be let go to help, but Elm and Vine hold her in her seat. Ironwood is heard giving the Manta jets new orders and reveals Command is working on a solution for Monstra. Winter, naturally wanting to be kept in the loop, asks what that might be. He reveals the science team is putting together a bomb that might be able to take the whale out if detonated inside it. That means Winter and the Ace Ops will be delivering it into the literal belly of the beast. I don’t know if he intends for it to be a suicide mission with the bomb going off as soon as they’ve got it inside, or if it’s just incredibly risky to try and get inside Monstra at all, but Winter pales at this news and her eyes go wide before sadly drooping closed again. She composes herself and grows determined again as she accepts the new marching orders. Jaune and Yang are again audibly against these plans due to the risk to Oscar’s safety, but they are subdued as needed, though we see Winter’s act isn’t absolute and her hands are shaking.

Meanwhile, Salem is having the time of her life doing her best Mickey Mouse impression. Classical music plays as she conducts the waves of Grimm sludge out of Monstra’s mouth like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice playing conductor to the stars themselves. Emerald watched from a distance, and seems less than thrilled about the whole thing. She heads down the halls and has to use her Semblance to keep a Seer from noticing her and potentially reporting her going where she doesn’t need to be to Salem. And where she’s going is the door outside Oscar’s torture room. He’s coughing up blood, and Hazel is still insisting he start telling the truth before Salem loses her patience and just kills him despite how futile it’d be. Instead Oz starts asking some questions of his own: Does Hazel know why Salem sought to recruit him in particular? It turns out she approached him with the promise of making a new world order where there won’t be any kingdoms or Huntsman Academies. Oz just has to laugh at that naiveté. When Salem gets the 4 Relics, there won’t be a world at all. She’s been around for so goddamn long, all she wants is for it to end, and she thinks taking the whole world down is the only way to get it anymore. This just frustrates Hazel, and we learn why. He’s pretty damn sure Salem can’t die at all, because when she first approached him about working together he spent the better part of a day killing her over and over and over again. This man, whom we know from the Battle of Haven to have massive reserves of Aura and strength to endure and keep fighting, kept fighting until he was too worn down and exhausted to lift his fists again. And in that time of weakness and awe at her power, Salem made her sales pitch that even if he couldn’t kill the one leading the Grimm he could at least have vengeance on the establishment sending young people to their deaths against her. Oz points out that that’s exactly why she went to him, because she could make him believe this was the right way, that it would bring him closure. It’s what Ozpin deserves, Hazel argues, and Oz does not disagree. But does Oscar deserve it? Do the innocent people who haven’t been affected by Salem or Ozpin yet?  No, this isn’t for justice, this is personal. Because Salem said it would help Hazel. Has it?

We don’t get an answer to that, instead going back up to Weiss’ room in Schnee Manor where she’s reapplying Nora’s bandages. Still mostly unconscious, Nora mutters “Now what... am I good for?” I can think of a great many things Nora is useful for outside of her great strength and straightforward approach to combat, but its a damn shame no one has actually bothered to tell her that before now. Before Weiss has a chance to offer any, Blake and Ruby enter the room with cups of tea. I’m not ashamed to admit I initially thought they were hot chocolate cuz I’m not used to tea being that sort of amber color. Weiss admits that she’s done the most her limited medical knowledge can offer, and Nora needs more than that. Blake expresses her concern for the other half of their group, but almost slips up and says... well we’re just not sure, but we like to assume she was gonna say she’s especially worried for someone in particular. The shippers can fill that in how they like. Their moping is interrupted by May entering the room with some less than stellar news from Fiona and the others down in Mantle. They haven’t seen Yang’s team in a while, and with everything going to hell like this a search party is at the bottom of the priority list. She’s about ready to get back on the airship and head back down to Mantle, but Weiss protests and this sparks a debate. May points out that Mantle doesn’t have the luxury of the Atlas military protecting them so Ruby’s group and the Happy Huntresses are the only thing keeping the people safe from the chaos of the invasion, but Weiss argues that there are still people suffering up her and I have to agree. Just because a police force is around doesn’t automatically mean they’re doing the best job of keeping everyone safe. But Weiss pushes the wrong button by asking about May’s family. The Marigold’s were ashamed of the way their “son” acted, wanting to help the suffering down in Mantle. And so May would no longer let herself be called that, she became a woman proudly working as part of the Happy Huntresses for the service of the people. She kicked her Marigold name and reputation to the curb and her cousin Henry stepped up as the socialite snob instead. 

This cannot have been an easy scene for Kdin to record, but we all need to give a standing ovation for her performance in it. Powerful words that likely hit very close to home. What a queen.

May is sure Weiss gets where she’s coming from with their families casting them aside in favor of a more obedient heir, her being replaced by Whitley after her outburst at the charity concert. Weiss wants to voice her disagreement, but May questions whose side she’s on in all this. Blake doesn’t like that, they’ve heard this talk about taking sides before and judging by her tone she’s none too happy to be hearing it now. May is about to give her a strongly worded piece of her mind too but Ruby stands between them to remind everyone there are no sides. All of humanity needs to be united, and Salem is the one creating the tension that’s dividing them so their real enemy is her. The only question now is how do they get out of this problem? The solution might be hiding just around the corner, literally. Whitley has been listening from behind the door, and he seems a little inspired.

Meanwhile Oz seems to have just finished telling Salem’s dark cursed backstory to Hazel, and it seems her final plan really is to have the world so divided and ruined that when the gods are brought back to judge it they will deem Remnant a failure and destroy it and hopefully her with it. Hazel seems less than inclined to believe this story though, he still holds a damn hard grudge over his sister. Oz is getting nowhere so Oscar asks to be put back in the lead, and so he is just as Hazel is about to wallop them again. Oz is willing to trust him so he can earn Hazel’s trust in return. So he goes right ahead and tells the big guy Jinn’s name and that it’s how you summon her for one last question. Hazel seems mad that Oscar gave up the info so effortlessly after all that, but Oscar asserts that he’s not telling Salem. He’s telling Hazel, and letting him decide what to do with the knowledge and the chance to gain deeper knowledge still. Pretty rad strategy. Wouldn’t you know it though, Emerald is still listening outside the door and heard everything. She goes to tell Mercury, but he’s busy packing a duffel bag for a trip to Vacuo. Guess Salem doesn’t need him here right now so we’ll get to see him again in Volume 9 or 10. He’s less than convinced that they should try and use this behind the scenes knowledge to go against Salem, cuz if Hazel couldn’t do it then why would he change his tune now? And why would they risk their necks too? It’s not like Oz was telling the truth, right? Salem isn’t really gonna destroy the world! But the teens get another surprise lecture from Uncle Tyrian: Of course Salem plans to destroy Remnant!! You couldn’t tell from the start? Everything about her screams end of the world, and it is beautiful! And if you thought she’d do anything different then you must really be crazy... Bold worlds from a psychotic serial killer, but we already know he’s unhinged. Mercury doesn’t much like getting this rude awakening though, especially since Tyrian will be the one going with him to Vacuo. Merc and Em share one last sad look, but he’s made his bed and now he’s resigned to lie in it. Bye bye Mercury, see you after Emerald has probably switched sides and will have to face you as an enemy...

Speaking of ships soaring through the air, we go back to the Ace Ops and YJR heading for Monstra. Yang is protesting the bombing plan since Oscar is still inside, but Vine insists they can’t afford to wait and risk further death and destruction. Jaune offers a side plan, send the three inside Monstra ahead of the bombing squad to scope things out for them and try to rescue Oscar while they’re doing recon. Marrow is shocked that they’d be willing to go into the literal belly of the beast alone, but Yang asserts he’d do the same for one of his teammates if they were in this position, right? He doesn’t have an answer for that. Elm argues that trading their lives just for one other person is stupid, but amazingly it is Ren who objects. Oscar is their friend, and they will do whatever it takes for someone they care about like that. A real turnaround from his attitude of closing himself off emotionally, but I guess he’s realizing how ridiculous it sounds coming from other people? Harriet gets out of her seat to do what she does best and start talking down to someone as naïve and wrong. Feelings are stupid, the job is what matters. When you lose someone you just replace them and forget about them. We find out that Winter is indeed meant to be the new leader instead of Clover, and before Marrow there was apparently a member of the team named Tortuga, but Ren is not about to let anyone tell him that someone is replaceable. You don’t say that to Team JNPR, and we definitely don’t say that about Ren... Not now. In his outrage, Ren suddenly finds... clarity. He starts seeing the world a little differently. In less cryptic terms, his Semblance seems to have evolved and he now sees people’s emotions swirling around them as colorful bursts of flower petals. Harriet is actually furious about losing Clover, she’s lying to herself and trying to suppress her feelings. She does not like being called out like that, but the rest of the squad needs to be put on blast. As opposed to Hare’s red petals Marrow is surrounded by blue that I guess would mean sadness or depression, Elm has orange and some red, and Vine is clouded with green. The meanings of the last two are a little less clear, but they’re all definitely feeling some strong things that they’re trying to hide under a calm façade. This is the reason the Ace Ops lost to RWBY, they’re all held back by trying not to connect with each other so unity and team bonds never formed. Elm does not like being told she’s a loser because she won’t make friends, but at least it’s a a reaction, which means he’s absolutely right. She’s about to deck Ren in the face but Winter steps in to get everyone calmed down. She looks these three “fugitives” over, and makes a decision. She’s going to trust her sister’s friends. They will get the teens in close and give them a small window of time to try and get in and out before the Ace Ops need to bring in the payload and blow it all away. Harriet is pissed Winter is giving these “traitors” a chance, and questions her decision thusly. But you’re outranked, you boob, and you can’t do a damn thing to stop her from showing human decency. They have a very tight schedule to attempt this rescue, and Jaune accepts that fully. The three get uncuffed and are given their weapons back as the ship lands at the front lines. Ren tries to appeal to the doubt and regret he can see in Marrow to get him to switch sides while the getting’s good. Marrow wants to, but he sticks to the job for now. Yang and Jaune head out first, while Ren lingers to tell Winter he knows she doesn’t want to be a part of all this anymore either, and we see a rainbow of many emotional petals around her head. Either she has a balance of many emotions in check and is the most levelheaded of the Ace Ops, or she has the most emotions repressed and her mind is a tempest of feelings that aren’t being addressed and may spell her end... take your pick.

As this militant Schnee considers her options, we go homeward to see Weiss and the others heading for the front door. May isn’t keen to stay her any longer than needed, and the kids need to make a choice about where she’s dropping them off. Either they go to the front lines here in Atlas or back down to Mantle to help with the chaos there. No other options, and especially no breaking their jailbirds out for an assist. May doesn’t have the optimism and heroic hope that Ruby still holds dear, she won’t entertain the idea that this can become a complete victory all around. This isn’t that kind of world. Either they help one place, or they help another. And even then, that’s no guarantee wherever they go will be successful at stopping the invasion. It’s very depressing, and it’s on these kids to accept the facts and make the hard decisions. If you take a look at the last few Volumes, Ruby does seem to have a bit of a habit of ignoring the dreadful possibilities/facts in favor of pursuing a hopeful and bold plan that could fix everything immediately so she doesn’t have to cope with reality and actually grieve her mistakes and losses... I’m not saying it makes her a bad character or that she’s wholly wrong for trying to see a bright side whenever possible, just that this is an unhealthy strategy for a leader with so much on her shoulders. But before anyone has time to make a decision right now, there’s a hard knock on the front door. Everyone draws their weapons and approaches slowly, before Weiss cautiously opens the door. In a most definitely welcome surprise, she is greeted by Klein!!! She missed him dearly, and apologizes for whatever fault she had in his being fired, but while cycling through personalities he assures her she has nothing to be sorry for since it’s all Jacques’ fault, the bastard. Turns out, Klein is here to use his medical knowledge to treat Nora. What, didn’t you know all butlers to heroic millionaires have field medic training? Alfred Pennyworth set the gold standard, I dare say~ But of course, Weiss didn’t call him and none of her friends know his number so who told him to come?... Would you believe it, Whitley is responsible and we could not be more proud of him! Weiss certainly is, and she gives him what might be his first genuinely loving hug in years. Klein heads upstairs to begin treatment, while the rest of the group share a hopeful moment. But this silence too comes to a crashing halt as there is further ruckus outside. This time Ruby answers the door, to see a smoking crater in the front driveway. RWB rush outside and kneel at the edge of the crater as the smoke clears. Penny has crash landed, and lies there in a pool of what we can only presume to be her green synthetic blood. All she has the strength left to do is apologize before she passes out and the screen darkens with her. There lies the end for the next 6 weeks, and we were left to panic and speculate all the while. Too bad I’m a lazy bugger who only got this review out now and there’s no tension left before the thrilling continuation comes tomorrow morning. So lets all get one last panicked sleep in before the living nightmares come for our girls! Penny is totally gonna be under Watt’s control, the Hound is coming, it’s all gonna be a huge damn mess... Can’t wait, can you?~