#just the loyalty to the first person and caution with the second

[darkclouud9]

ykw I'll accept Joel n Etho as ObiKaka way more easily over. the. second horrible option (to me)

personally see team minato as Team Canada + Tango, but I've seen PET team minato and I'm insane over it. Pearlbito.............. im so insane over Pearl as Obito guh.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Silent Heir, Hidden Danger - 5

Character: Lawyer!Bucky x Female Character

Summary: She suddenly inherits a fortune from an unknown father, navigating dark secrets with lawyer Bucky Barnes in a suspenseful journey of deception.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi ❤️❤️❤️

As the shadows of secrecy enveloped Y/N and Bucky in their hidden refuge, the dim light accentuated the growing bond between them. Seated across from each other, the air carried an unspoken understanding, an alliance forged in the crucible of danger.

With a thoughtful gaze, Y/N finally voiced the question that lingered in the quiet moments. "Bucky, I need to understand. Why were you so loyal to Max? What did he do for you?"

Bucky, his expression a mix of contemplation and memories, leaned back against the concealed walls. "I was a stray dog, Y/N. Max found me in the lowest point of my life, hungry and desperate. He gave me a purpose, a sense of belonging."

Y/N, intrigued, urged him to share more. "What do you mean, a stray dog?"

Bucky's eyes held a distant gaze as he recounted his past. "I was living on the streets, scraping by to survive. Max saw something in me, or maybe he just saw a reflection of his own past. He took me in, trained me, made me his guard dog."

A sense of vulnerability crossed Bucky's features as he continued, "He used to say, 'A dog shouldn't bite the person who gives him food.' Max was the one who fed me when I had nothing. Loyalty was the least I could offer in return."

Y/N, absorbing the weight of his revelation, murmured, "So, loyalty to Max became your way of life."

Bucky nodded, the echoes of the past resonating in his words. "In the world he lived in, loyalty meant survival. Max had enemies, and he needed someone he could trust completely. In return, he provided me with a purpose, a family of sorts."

Curiosity lingered in Y/N's eyes as she sought to unravel the mysteries surrounding her father's elusive presence in her life. "Bucky," she inquired, "why did Max never try to meet us, or at least reach out to my mother? It sounds like he cared, so why keep such a distance?"

Bucky, choosing his words carefully, began to unravel the complex tapestry of Max's multiple lives. "Y/N, Max had three wives, each with their own circumstances. The first wife, Mallory, is the scariest of them all. She's from a powerful mafia family herself, and she's paranoid and jealous. Her obsession with Max is both a strength and a threat."

Y/N, eyebrows furrowed, sought further clarification. "Jealous? Obsessed? What do you mean?"

Bucky leaned in, his gaze holding a weight of caution. "Mallory sees Max as her possession. She's deeply in love with him, but that love is possessive and dangerous. If she found out about you and your mother, she would see you both as a threat. Max was protecting you from her influence."

Y/N, absorbing the gravity of Mallory's influence, mused, "So, it wasn't just about Max keeping secrets. It was about protecting us from someone dangerous."

Bucky nodded solemnly. "Exactly. Now, the second wife, Madeline, is a different kind of danger. She's calculating, like a snake in the grass. Madeline knows how to navigate the intricacies of the underworld. If she knew about you, she might see it as an opportunity or a threat, depending on her calculations."

The room seemed to tighten with the invisible threads of danger as Bucky continued, "Then there's the third wife, Marianne. Her situation is similar to your mother's. She doesn't know Max is involved in the mob. She's stuck in a life she doesn't fully understand. Max kept his world compartmentalized to protect them from the harsh realities he faced."

Y/N, grappling with the revelations, murmured, "So, my mother and I were shielded from a world that could have consumed us."

Acknowledging the weight of Max's choices, Bucky responded, "Max believed he was doing what was best for you both. The danger from Mallory alone was enough to warrant such secrecy."

Bucky's gaze flickered to his watch, a tangible reminder of the ticking clock counting down to Max's funeral. "We have 32 hours before the funeral," he stated, the urgency palpable in his voice.

Y/N, her eyes reflecting a mixture of uncertainty and determination, questioned him, "Do you really want to replace Max, Bucky? It seems like a dangerous position to be in."

Bucky, his expression a blend of respect and a hint of a wry smile, replied, "I respect Max's wishes, and besides, there's something else. I love money, Y/N. Money is my anchor in a world that's often unpredictable and unforgiving. Max understood that about me."

As Y/N absorbed his candid admission, she couldn't help but wonder about the intricacies of loyalty and ambition entwined in the unfolding events. "So, you're willing to step into a role that could bring danger and power just for the sake of money?"

Bucky's eyes showed determination as he affirmed, "Max had his reasons for choosing me, and I intend to honor that trust. Plus, in our world, power and danger often come hand in hand. It's a gamble, but one I'm willing to take."

As Y/N contemplated the implications of Bucky potentially becoming the leader, she voiced her concerns, "If you become the leader, can you ensure the safety of my mother and me, Bucky?"

Bucky, with a confident yet reassuring demeanor, replied, "Sure, Y/N. I can make sure all your demons are taken care of. Max's legacy will provide a shield for both of you."

However, before the weight of their conversation could fully settle, the room was violently interrupted by a deafening explosion, the force of it reverberating through the hidden refuge. "BOOM!"

Instinctively, Y/N sought refuge behind Bucky, her eyes wide with shock and fear. The once secure vault door now lay in ruins, the remnants of the protective barrier shattered.

As the dust settled, the silhouette of a figure emerged from the chaos. Bucky, recognizing the intruder, muttered under his breath, "Mason. Should've guessed."

Mason, flanked by a menacing entourage, strode into the room with an air of calculated authority. The outnumbered Bucky, still shielding Y/N, assessed the dire situation unfolding before him.

Mason's voice cut through the tension, a cold smirk playing on his lips, "Well, well, Bucky. Seems like you're not as untouchable as you thought. I knew this hidden fortress would be your refuge."

Bucky, his gaze unwavering, retorted, "What do you want, Mason?"

Mason's eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he declared, "I want what's rightfully ours. The inheritance. And, of course, the throne that comes with it."

The room hung heavy with tension as Bucky found himself forcefully restrained on the ground, guns pressed menacingly against his temple.

Y/N, too, was ensnared by Mason's henchmen, her struggles futile against their unyielding grip. Mason, wearing a sinister smirk, approached her, lifting her chin with a cruel grip.

"So, you're the one Father's been hiding? None of your face resembles him," Mason sneered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Y/N, defiant despite the dire circumstances, retorted, "You won't get away with this. My mother and I have nothing to do with your twisted games."

Mason's response was swift and brutal. With a grit of his teeth, he delivered a resounding slap across Y/N's face, the force of it sending her reeling. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as the room echoed with the sickening sound of impact.

Bucky, though physically overpowered, seethed with anger. "She's weaker than you, you son of a bitch," he spat, the venom in his voice cutting through the air.

Mason, seemingly unfazed, shrugged his shoulders with a sinister grin. "That's why this will be quick."

Bucky, undeterred, shot back with a defiant glare, "You think this changes anything? You won't control what Max built."

Mason, reveling in his moment of triumph, gestured to his lackeys. "Tie them up. We'll take them with us."

The air inside the confined space of the car crackled with tension as Bucky, now confined beside Mason, shot him a defiant glare. Y/N, unconscious and vulnerable, was being transported in a separate vehicle, her fate hanging in the balance. Mason, still seething with anger over Bucky's perceived betrayal, couldn't resist taunting him.

"You betrayed us, Bucky. You were family, and you turned your back," Mason hissed through gritted teeth.

Bucky, undeterred, retorted, "Maybe I got tired of being your errand boy. Fetching and carrying for the likes of you."

Mason's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't forget, you could've had it all. You could've joined this family. But you chose this path."

As the convoy of cars navigated the dimly lit streets, tension escalated. Suddenly, the driver of Mason's car furrowed his brow, eyes darting to the rearview mirror. The vehicle behind them swerved erratically, causing concern.

"What the heck?" the driver muttered, trying to maintain control.

Mason, sensing trouble, leaned forward. "What's going on back there?" he barked into the radio, but there was no response.

Bucky seized the opportunity to issue a warning. "If something happens to her, I will make you pay, Mason."

Mason, unimpressed, shot back, "Why? You got a soft spot for her."

Chaos erupted as the second car in the convoy crashed violently, prompting Mason to order a halt. The group descended from the vehicles, with Bucky remaining inside.

As they approached the wreckage to investigate, a sudden gunshot pierced the air, and one of Mason's men fell with a bullet through his forehead.

"What the fuck?" echoed through the tense night air as confusion and panic gripped the scene. The crashed car's door swung open, revealing a transformed Y/N—no longer the weak woman Mason had seen earlier.

Her demeanor had shifted; she exuded a cold, murderous aura, and Mason couldn't shake the feeling of killer intent emanating from her. Her gaze mirrored Max's, sending a chill down Mason's spine.

Mason, still processing the shocking transformation, barked orders to his men, "Shoot her!"

Before the guards could react, they were taken down by precise shots. Bucky, witnessing the chaos unfold through the rearview mirror, couldn't help but exclaim, "What the heck?"

Y/N, seemingly unaffected by the mayhem, punched Mason in the stomach, causing him to crumple to the ground. With an eerie calmness, she lifted him effortlessly and deposited him into the damaged car. Without sparing a glance at Bucky, she took the driver's seat.

"Y/N?" Bucky questioned, but she remained stoic as if inhabited by a different entity. This Y/N differed from the one who fainted from Mason's slap.

In truth, Y/N harbored multiple personalities. The normal Y/N, empathetic and fearful, coexisted with a darker alter ego.

This alternate persona was cold, formidable, and shared the same lethal intent as Max.

Dark Y/N, her demeanor still cold and unwavering, adjusted the rearview mirror with calculated precision before starting the engine.

Still grappling with the surreal situation, Bucky couldn't help but voice his confusion, "What the hell just happened, Y/N? Are you... alright?"

The dark Y/N remained silent, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. It was as if the events that transpired moments ago had no impact on her. Bucky sensed a palpable shift in her energy, a stark departure from the scared woman he had seen mere minutes ago.

Bucky couldn't shake off the chilling feeling that enveloped him. Dark Y/N's side-eye, reminiscent of Max's calculating gaze, sent shivers down his spine.

Dark Y/N finally spoke, her voice void of the warmth that characterized the usual Y/N. "Your old Y/N is asleep. Now, show me the way to the funeral."

The transformation was jarring, leaving Bucky to realize that the woman before him was more complex and enigmatic than he had ever imagined.

As they drove in silence, Bucky grappled with the realization that Y/N, the person he thought he knew, harbored a dormant alter ego capable of such ruthlessness. The atmosphere inside the car was tense, and Bucky couldn't help but wonder about the consequences of this unexpected alliance.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5

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[twistofstory]

And here's the guy from the main story~

Wolffish's a full rainwing who was raised among seawings and had picked up a lot of seawing expressions and curses from his family. He discovered the properties of rainwing venom on his own and even learned to spit it quite accurately, and the old scar on his tail serves as a reminder of the danger of this ability. At an older age, he finally visited his native forest and became imbued with traditions of his tribe, but did not stay - he quickly became bored with the life of the rainwing, and he loved his work too much. What kind of work? Wolffish was a mailman. In wartime, his camouflage skills became simply irreplaceable - this way he could deliver a letter to almost anywhere on the continent, avoiding clashes with any dragons. Word about the unusual carrier quickly spread, and lucrative, but much less harmless offers started coming to him. Wolffish didn't refuse them - since his skills can be useful not only for simple letters delivery, why not? Money is money, and the opportunity to provide a comfortable life for yourself and even help your family sounded irresistible. Life was great and all, but interests of his customers often ran counter to each other, and, unbeknownst to himself, Wolffish made some enemies. One day his luck ran out and he got caught... Varan pulled him out of this scrape, and from this began a new era of Wolffish’s life - first as one of the confidants for the gang leaders, and then as Varan’s personal bodyguard. Wolffish isn't confrontational nor vindictive, and he is friendly with his comrades, but most of the Center members treat him with some caution. His camouflage, tracking and venom shooting skills, perfected over the years, have made him one of the most dangerous gang members, and few dragons would risk crossing his path. The habit of walking around the camp unseen also does not help Wolffish get closer to the dragons, so his usual social circle is limited to Varan’s second-in-command, the leader himself and, unexpectedly, Newt. What’s interesting is that Wolffish and Newt aren't just good friends, but also ex-lovers - their relationship developed very rapidly, and just as quickly grew from romance to platonic friendship. Breakup was pretty painless, and they remained quite close. Prejudices towards dragons from different tribes are not so pronounced in the gang, and yet only Newt and Wolffish understand what it's like to be a rainwing (or half-rainwing) far from homeland. What’s ironic is that the “seawing” Wolffish has a much more “rainwing” lifestyle than Newt, who grew up in the tropic forest, but they still often have “sun hours” together (Newt may have inherited most of the genetics from his mudwing side, yet sun is also extremely necessary for his health). Unfortunately, things haven't been so great between them recently. The tense atmosphere of the Center in the light of recent events has affected the relationship between all members, and Newt has an additional reason not to trust his comrades. Wolffish's still a part of Varan's inner circle, and Newt isn't sure he'll put their friendship above loyalty to the gang leader if things go wrong.

Fun fact: “a very competent flirt” was the initial concept for Newt in the first version of the story, but over time I moved away from this idea.

[bodyguardbracket]

Round 1: Guy (A3! Act! Addict! Actors!) vs Link (Legend of Zelda)

[Propaganda Under Cut]

Guy: it's kinda hard to talk about guy without spoilers from a3’s main story act 8 so yeah take caution. anyway guy is introduced as a bodyguard from the fictional south asian kingdom of zahra, of which citron is the crown prince. it’s a very long complicated story but basically citron fled from zahra before his coronation ceremony was to take place and planned on travelling around the world for a while, but he ended up in japan and decided to stay bc he got roped into joining a theatre troupe (most normal thing in a3 tbh). guy spent a year scouring the ends of the earth to find him and finally did so in act 8, which speaks to his dedication to protecting his liege. also guy is introduced as an android which is a whole other thing

anyway guy is super-duper capable! he’s fluent in english, japanese, and zahran; he can fight and handle weaponry; he’s good at karate and teaches one of the other main characters karate; he can act; and later on in the story he even opens his own bar, meaning he can cook and mix drinks!

also his loyalty to citron is unparalleled. in act 8, citron returns to zahra on his own volition—but plot twist he leaves guy on his own and guy can’t return bc citron falsely branded him as a criminal and accused him of kidnapping him which was why he was missing from the kingdom for a year (citron had some complicated reasons for doing so but it wasn’t out of malice). stuck with nowhere else to go, guy decided to join the theatre troupe that citron was part of—the MANKAI company—and he spent a good portion of the story act trying to figure out what’s going on in citron’s mind. eventually he and the sub-troupe he joined—the winter troupe—successfully put on a complete run of their adaptation of ‘phantom of the opera’ where guy played the phantom. even so, guy wasn’t satisfied and still wanted to see citron and show citron his acting, so with the help of the other MANKAI members (one of whom forged a passport for guy so he wouldn’t be arrested on sight upon going through customs in zahra), guy and like 12 other people go to the kingdom of zahra as performers for citron’s coronation ceremony, where eventually guy gets to reunite with citron. it’s all very complicated but citron doesn’t ascend to the throne and is instead appointed the minister of arts and culture and is told by the king to return to japan and continue learning about the arts at the MANKAI company so he can bring back what he learned to improve zahra’s art scene. and even though citron is no longer a prince, guy still vows to stay by citron and watch over him bc their bond goes beyond just a prince and retainer 🥹

Link: HE FOUGHT THE INCARNATION OF EVIL TWICE FOR HER!! granted he did fail first those two times, and his ward became a light spirit god thing to hold said evil back the first time, and for the second she time-traveled back >10k years and became a dragon, but he did fight ganon!

anyways link was assigned as zelda's personal guard for a While. we dont know how long ago it was, but it's probably a span of 1-2 years pre-ganon. if we include the ganon years and the time travel then it's been +10k years. he does a fantastic job of it, he saves her from yiga (assassins) and the incarnation of evil (ganon, twice). they become friends. they bond. zelda tries to feed him a frog. link actually dies for zelda and then he comes back to save her. he catches zelda as she turns back to human

[guerravic]

Newly appointed leader of the Roşu Clan. Over 1000 years old. Motives within his leadership entirely unclear ; for the good of the clan or for the good of himself? wanted connections + current headcanons beneath the cut.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

platonic.

- someone who convinced him to fight at fight club.

- spar buddies --- sometimes you just wanna beat each other up.

- bloodbag. someone willingly letting him feed. or not willing. yk whatever works.

- friday night party-goer / friday night drinkers.

- enemies to friends.

- unwillingly drags him around the city parts he hasn't been in.

- hater4hater friendship.

- new shard workers / people willing to operate under the shard

- alliances between the roşu clans and other factions and/or people alone.

- absolutely fucking hate each other. would kill each other if it wouldn't turn heads / have attempted to or want to.

HEADCANONS.

romantic.

- situationship / hookup / one night stand type beat.

- no strings attached / fwb

- exes / spurned romance

- enemies to lovers jk ... unless?

- enemies ... that yknow (;

- flirtationship. flirting enough to think they're lowkey a thing, but they're not ... unless?

Vicente, while closely associated with Witches, especially of darker corners, he’s cautious of them. A caution not born of fear, but intellect. Vampires may be a predatory species, but magic is a force Vicente has been well acquainted with over the centuries.

Enjoys watching Punch Cage matches and has yet top partake. Primarily due to his desire to participate in 'Fright Night'. Vicente is sure he'd win, however is too caught up in his businesses to even take the chance. Slowly convincing himself to suck it up and participate in a simple fight night.

Does enjoy the fourth floor of Rubicund on the occasion. Finds it to be one of the other establishments he finds the most joy in after Punch Cage. Does occasionally attend the Bunny.

First instinct to covering Golden Rule breaks is to kill all humans involved and cover their murder as a variety of things ( mass suicide, missing persons cases/serial kidnappings, staging a relocation with falsified documents, offering humans to demons for their dealings ). Sometimes will have the offender kill the person they committed the offense with and if they refuse, will resort to killing both of them in front of each other. However, typically employees witches for memory manipulation if exposure was not severe and his mood isn't already soured. This is always threatened.

Appears to be a gentleman to those outside of his immediate circle. A smiling man with only snide comments, he doesn't seem like a cruel man. realistically, he uses his persona to disarm strangers and seem unassuming. calculatedly wants people to unwind around him. a natural instinct from his noble years.

Accepting the request to overtake the Roşu Clan was a breath of fresh air. Recently, he’d found his life stale in his previous position of his own gang. He hopes to rekindle the spark of establishing a domineering persona ; be feared and revered across the sea.

Despite leading the Roşu Clan, Vicente is still closely operating his founded gang in Europe. The current leader frequently contacts him concerning reoccurring impacts. Considering convincing some of his members to move to Vievecor City to work under him or around areas in the city for insight.

An enjoyer of live music music. Enjoys the way live music, especially drums and bass, course through the physical body.

Extremely selective with those he sires. First, he must deem them worthy ; see potential. Second, they must declare loyalty to him. Third, they must intrigue him from the get-go ( or remind them of himself in the past and he wants to protect them).

Little empathy when it comes to causing harm / causing upset. Does not care, will never care and on the chance he regrets his actions is if someone within his close circle was horrifically changed/harmed. Never wallows, however, fixes it.

On topic of emotions, is an extremely emotional man in other ways. Once the feelings of loyalty, love, hatred, admiration or obsession it's extremely hard to shake them. Earning those sentiments are a task of itself, so it takes a huge betrayal to break them.

[chronussy-bc]

Discussion: Does Creed Hate Women? (P2)

Warning: very long post.

In the last post, I've explained Creed's thought process when it comes to hating Saya. Since the post was already too long, I didn’t want to add anything more. Therefore, I will elaborate here, as we look into his hatred towards Sephiria.

Creed was abused by his mother, which obviously has a strongly negative impact on his opinion about women. To him, there are two things that cannot be represented by a woman.

Goodness: because even a mother would still badly hurt her own child if she was frustrated/discontented to a certain extent. This thought stems from his suffering caused by his mother’s constant outburst.

Authority: because his mother used her advantages as the provider and the physical strength of an adult to inflict damage on him for a long period of time. He was always the available target of her anger due to his dependence on her. Him being inferior to his mother subjected him to her violence.

His hatred towards Saya will fall into the first category. Her kindness and generosity are ineradicable against any force, and she has proven it at the cost of her life. He can turn a blind eyes to her personality being the cause of Train’s changes, but he cannot to the fact that she lost only because she chose to sacrifice herself.

His hatred towards Sephiria, understandably, will fall into the second category.

Sephiria is Number I in an organization that controls 1/3 of the world economy. Below only a few, above all the rest. And what’s bitter here is that she is the best in both of what Creed does and Creed wishes to be doing: a fighter and a leader. It may not be by choice that people follow her, but it is for their loyalty to her. In terms of skills and experience, it was shown in the final battle that without Creed's most crucial enhances, immortality and Invisible blade Lv.3, he would not stand a chance to her. These two features are not something Creed alone can obtain.

Sephiria, alone, has power and represents power (Chronos).

Considering Creed's ambition, it makes sense that Sephiria is his top target. Her demise would serve many purposes. However, for him personally, Sephiria's defeat would be equal with his promotion: to become the strongest. The unkillable. A true God. If even the most competent assassin could not take him down, then he must be.

He was cautious of her, innerly acknowledging her superiority, and at the same time, scornful towards her. It's the showing of hatred for someone he knew was above him, so he did not dare to be too bold about it. However, this changes as the story progressed and Creed acquired more strength.

Creed's caution and recognition of Sephiria's ability:

In the manga, Sephiria first appeared in Vol.5, where she visited Train and his friends at their hideout. Later, she was seen in the last pages of Vol.6, doing her training. In the same volume, after Creed dealt with Durham, he said this to Doctor and Shiki.

It's not a matter if any Guardian appears, but it is when Sephiria does. Her participation will mark the actual beginning of the show, which is the real war between the two organizations. Creed's force, which includes himself, is already more than sufficient, but still he needs to be alert for her direct appearance. Sephiria would not go to the battlefield to fight foot soldiers. That's just a waste of time and power. She would be very likely to come for Creed, cutting off the head of the enemy's side. It could be said that even at this point of the story, though early, Creed had speculated an one on one fight against her, and he prepared himself for it.

His caution was also shown in the manner which he fought Sephiria in the final volumes. Although he had already obtained immortality, Creed did not upgrade his Invisble Blade to Lv.3 until Sephiria unleashed her most powerful attack. He fought her, partly to test himself, partly to test her, to see the extent of her ability. He was not hasty to bring out all of his assets but gradually proved his strength through his counter-attacks. Had he already known exactly what her limit was and only wished to eliminate her, he could have overpowered her right at the start then tortured, maimed her to embarrass her. That way seemed to befit his character more, as he often inclined to emphasizing on his superiority while fighting (using Lv.2 to "play" with Sven, verbally degrading Saya, acting like he was only entertaining himself whilst battling against Cerberus...).

When he survived the 36th move "Apocalypse", Creed was finally assured he had achieved divinity. Therefore, as he fought Train after, Creed did not wait long to use Lv.3, although he was still at an advantage with Lv.2. He then had regarded himself above Train, being a God, so he was urged to prove his absolute domination over someone he used to consider equal/superb.

Creed vs Train with Lv.2. He was certainly winning here. (From these pages on I totally believe Train's win to be plot armor. There is no way Creed can lose with this much of a gap between their power).

The moment his hope of Train coming to kill him was ended by Train's acclaimation, he merged himself with the sword, activating Lv.3.

Another detail indicates Creed's recognition of Sephiria was when he told Train of how he had defeated her, using this final form.

In my physical copy of the volume, printed in my first language, the translation is much clearer. I will do another translation here: "This, The Lv.3, has defeated Sephiria's strongest/special attack 'Apocalypse'." Since Creed's words were sort of a boast about his unbeatable status with the power of his sword, it can be said he indeed took pride in the fact that he could win against Sephiria, indirectly admitting her competence.

Creed was immensely satisfied by degrading Sephiria:

He overpowered her and when she fell to the floor, kicked on her head forcefully. He definitely enjoyed seeing her helpless beneath his boot. He didn't even do it to Saya, who haunted him until the last minutes, but he had to do it to Sephiria. He wanted his superiority over her to be the last thing she knew before she died. Not fear. Not regret or anything. She must feel weak and pathetic compared to him in her final moments on this earth. Petty bastard!

Pleasure aside, this is Creed’s act of self-assurance. The only woman who is expected to be able to bring him down has been vanquished, and he is the one who did it. Even in situation where her pride, something Creed knows she will defend fiercely, is badly insulted, all she can do is laying there. She can no longer harm him (don’t know how he would react when they reunite in hell if Sephiria’s plan B succeeded, but that sounds really fun).

Sephiria is the main target of Creed's hatred and validation when it comes to his view against Chronos.

Creed, as he himself claimed, despided The Elders’ control over the world. He deemed them unworthy, incapable of bringing improvement. In other words, Creed assumed himself above the Elders in terms of leadership and governance. In terms of fighting prowess, there's nothing to debate. Creed is undoubtedly above them.

So practically, he could not underestimate Sephiria yet thinking she works for a bunch of old fools with her life. A person with the potential to have more and be more but is willing to settle for less and to be subdued by lesser men. This is kinda his perception about her.

Creed talked about the Elders and his opinion on Sephiria's attempt.

He also acknowledged Sephiria as Chronos's best shot against him. If she failed, they would inevitably fail as well.

In other words, Chronos's best of everything, according to Creed, has all manifested in Sephiria. His validation of the organization is based, if not entirely then greatly, on her worth. To be honest, even if Sephiria actually got killed and Train could not defeat Creed, I don’t think Chronos would surrender. They would pick another person to fill in her position or not then Berzé would temporarily take on her responsibilities. The war would rage on until one side has been completely exhausted or obliterated. However, instead of seeing the fall of the Elders as the factor deciding the success of his rebellion, he saw Sephiria's death as the actual winning point.

He subconsciously revealed his own feeling of inferiority in this panel as well. Throughout the manga, fairly speaking, Sephiria is demonstrated as nice and humble. She does not bully her subordinates, agents and Numbers alike, nor does she threaten or punish them if they fail to do what she asks. Both Train and the agents have had words about her lenience. Acting haughty towards Rinslet was a trick of hers to goad the thief, making her overcome her own fear and jump into danger. A coward would only be a burden, Sephiria said this herself, and there is truth in it. That's why she needed Rinslet to have a ready mentality, not just to participate. However, Creed regarded her attitude as "high and mighty".

He must judge her ability correctly in order to deal with her, and her being above him in two most important aspects: fighting and leading is correct. This rubs him the wrong way, which makes his victory against her, as written, all the more satisfying.

Creed's hatred towards others mostly stems from his judgement of their worth. He hated those that are useless and those are useful but not following the meaning of "useful" as his dictionary defines. In a way, it could be said that he envies her, but considering his ambition, he is more likely to feel threatened by her. Saya threatens the persuasiveness of his ideal, Sephiria threatens the prospect of his goal, his dreamt position as a God. The interesting thing about people with a hierarchy insecurity like Creed is that their insecurity will turn into hatred. It's not gonna stay just an insecurity. Since Creed does not acknowledge the Elders' superiority, his hatred then falls upon Sephiria.

When he regained consciousness after being beaten by Train, he expressed his frustration about how Train refused to agree with him, despite them having gone through the same hardships in life. As he talked of how they were supposed to be different from the rest, Creed separately mentioned Sephiria's name, not putting her in the same group with others. Maybe because in his mind, he also divided people in Chronos, assassins and politicians, and ordinary citizens into two sides, so Sephiria is thought of as Chronos itself. Maybe he just hated her that much or there is something else between them we don't know about. However, whatever it is, it is definitely personal. The people in the story who knows never considers Sephiria's will and Chronos's will (the Elders') as one. She has to do some disturbing stuff because that is her job, not because she genuinely wishes it (she even hoped Creed would feel regret bruhhh). He just likes to assume she is a hypocrite. A strong one, but still.

The marked letters in the raw is “Sephiria” written in Japanese. Therefore, this is not a translating mistake.

All of that, but again, let switch Sephiria's gender into male. In this case, let swap her with Berzé. Sephiria's final thought to entrust her deputy with the rest, so his ability must be close to hers. Creed interacted with Berzé once, when he came to intervene in the fight of Charden and Kyoko in vol.3. Although Berzé was clearly outnumbered and having a low chance of winning if all taoists attacked, Creed had chosen to retreat then, directly admitted he did not want to go against Berzé yet because he "respect the strength of the Time Guardians". In his battle with Sephiria, Creed spoke nicely about her only to mock her right after.

Wooosh this is such a chore. I have expected it to be shorter than the last one but the more I write the more I realize how subtle the signs are. Mostly because Creed struggles with himself to accept that Sephiria, until the final volumes, is better than him. He gotta taunted her for each word of compliments he gave her (what has she done to him fr?) and that kick on the head is for sure his favorite moment. Therefore, the elaboration needs to be rather detail to get the point across.

Also, I believe Creed’s hatred towards Saya is much more intense since he cannot surpass her in what she represents and he knows it. He can gain more power to beat Sephiria, build his own organization to prevail hers but how he can he ever be more heroic than Saya?

Read pt.1

[faithfire-writes]

for characters of your choice:

What’s the lie your character says most often?

7. What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

19. What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

43. What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

52. Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Oooh, thanks for the ask! I'll do Mycroft and Nedra for these. 1. What’s the lie your character says most often? Mycroft: Probably that his loyalty is to the Crown, first and foremost. While he IS loyal to the king and to the kingdom, his loyalty lies, first and foremost, with his wife and with their people. Nedra: "It's nothing/I'm fine" or any variation. She's really reluctant to feel like a burden to people and doesn't want them to judge or pity her for her past. 7. What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell? I would yell their names. Gwen would either yell "Mycroft" or "My Lord" and he'd recognize the latter more, since she's the only one who really calls him that. Alric would either call her name or "Baroness" because that's his pet name for her--as well as the title she used when on the run. 19. What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding? Mycroft would try to mend the fences and admit that he's been avoiding them. Nedra would just sit quietly until they were let out. 43. What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding? Nedra tends to assume that everyone is somehow trying to use her or hurt her in some way, due to her past on the island. She's surprised and embarrassed when she realizes that they're not, that they genuinely want to help her, and she's quick to apologize and try to make amends. Mycroft assumes people don't trust him or have reason to be wary of him, so he has a habit of being over enthusiastic in his reassurances. He's embarrassed whenever he realizes he's in the wrong, but tends to figure that erring on the side of caution is still the best method. 52. Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting? Nedra: depends on what the situation is. If it's not a life or death situation, she's learned to withdraw and analyze it from every angle and figure out what the best possible course of action is. Mycroft: again, depends on the situation, but he's far more likely to act than withdraw. He'll take a second to figure out what the WRONG thing to say/do is, but otherwise he's pretty fast to act.

Thanks for the ask!

[m34gs]

@bae-ashlynn this is a dangerous phrase. You've unleashed floodgates, you have. (thank you for your indulgence)

And I want to preface, when I wrote them as a murder trio it was part of a series that was really born from a one-shot based on a one-word prompt. Please understand that this all started with the prompt "gardening".

Hinata is the impulsive one, the reason they start committing murders in the first place. I've always loved the screen shot where he leaps for the ball and actually looks down on Ushijima. He looks so cold and downright dangerous in that second; it wasn't hard for me to make the leap to "murderous". Hinata also has a strong sense of loyalty. He'd be the one to want to fight for his friends, even with his small stature. He takes insults to things like his height personally, though I may have exaggerated that characteristic a little when I wrote him. But still, it was a fun motive. :D

Kenma adores Hinata. This is so plain. He likes talking to him and hanging out with him. I love them as besties. I love them as some sort of "more-than-friends, more-than-family, not-lovers, intensely-devoted-to-each-other" relationship, and I don't know if I can make it any more concise than that.

Kenma is also pretty smart and strategic (he doesn't play all those video games for nothing). He'd be great for helping Hinata cover up a murder and/or plot out more of them. He'd be totally devoted to it, too, and he wouldn't question if Hinata is in the right; he would do it because it's Hinata and that's it. And Hinata is there to protect him if things go wrong or something dangerous happens. A bubbly ray of sunshine that keeps the gloom at bay.

Akaashi is also smart, and despite being so quiet he is a quick-thinker (remember that time he had to think about the four different Bokuto responses and choose which was most likely? in less than a second...). If shit goes sideways, you want Akaashi on your side. He's good at coming up with stuff on the fly and accounting for different variables. Also, he's good at reigning in Bokuto so he would be able to help tame Hinata's impulses a little bit and keep him from going willy-nilly with the murder (Kenma gives in too easily because he has a hard time saying "no" to Hinata). Also, Akaashi is my favourite. I adore my pretty setter son.

When I wrote First the Bloom (the third part of The Garden Grows Hungry series) I had so much fun writing the relationship between the three of them. I love exploring the concept of codependency in a variety of ways, and this was probably my favourite non-romantic dynamic. Each of the three has their own partner, but they have this steady attachment and loyalty to the other two that doesn't waver. I was really going for a queer-platonic vibe, with murder and the blood on their hands tying them together indefinitely. I cannot stress how much I love the concept of one character ready to kill for another, or the dynamic of "help me hide a body"/"fine but only because I love you". It just makes me so....*insert incoherent screeching*

So now, I have a lot more ideas that I wanna pursue, and since you said "elaborate", I think I'll share a few:

Witch AU where the three of them are witches who need to lure in innocent souls every several years and feast upon their life-forces to obtain immortality

Serial Killer Competition AU where the three of them are murderers who are besties but also trying to compete with each other over who can send the sickest, most twisted "love letter" to the cops they fancy

Mafia AU where each team is a different mafia family.

Revenge AU where one of them is attacked and the other two make it their duty to exact revenge on and then murder the attackers. (Caution: I Spit On Your Grave vibes, with the SA being implied/referenced rather than overly graphic, and probably less graphic murders. probably. maybe. Idk this one is still a little bit of a toss-up if I'd actually post it.)

And the more I think about how much I love writing them, especially writing them as crazily codependent on each other, the more ideas I have so :D 💜💜💜

Listen I just think Kenma, Hinata, and Akaashi make a great murder team. And I wanna write them that way more.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Money and Loyalty

Black Clover Mafia!AU part 6

The part where he wants you to tell himsomething

Warnings: It is mafia!AU so everything one might expect  with it. Mentions of blood, swearing, implies violence, implied sex work, talk about  death, implied depression and suicidal thoughts, suggestive content, sexual content (but no proper smut), mentions of  weapons and fighting. *Proceed with caution.*

Tag list: @bowandcurtsey @hybridanafrost

A/N: Intended female reader at 1st person point of view

Length: ~1.6k

He’s savouring it; his own amusement. Time keeps ticking away without a sound as he revels in it.

But to me that time, those… perhaps precious seconds that tick away, feel like a fifth of an eternity. Even if that’s how my life is measured now; in the seconds and minutes of keeping him amused. Though I’m not sure if I want that.

Do I want that?

Do I want to have that as the purpose of being alive?

As said, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but being a jester for his pleasure alone doesn’t quite tempt. Not quite.

“Too good to be true?” He asks with a grin that is… smug, almost smug. It still holds a victory. I know that much.

I nod. It’s perhaps the only sensible answer I can give him at this time.

“So, do you not think that a pack that works together is stronger than a pack that works against each other?”

He’s leaning forward on the couch, on his seat, and his eyes are filled with that curiosity. His eyes are hungry again, and I think it’s not only an answer he’s hungry for. Even if the curiosity is genuine, looks genuine, telling me that he does want to hear my answer; there is again that glimmer in the corner of his eye. Or perhaps it’s the way his lips glisten in the light of the fire, coating the man in front of me with blessed fire that I cannot tell to be from either heaven or hell.

But the question, it’s too much like what I thought a while back. When we talked about… his subordinate. I think that’s what we talked about. The thing that doesn’t make sense. One of the things that don’t make sense. The fact that his subordinate would admit a mistake to him.

Perhaps it is a pack that he is leading, and not a collection of wolves.

I nod, eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Use your words,” he tells me. This is one of the things he wants to her from me with words. Another curious thing. Or then not. Gueldre don wanted us to give the answers with words, because he wanted to hear it from us.

Or maybe he wanted us to hear it from ourselves. He wanted us to hear those affirmation, those agreements and lies from our own mouths, so that perhaps we would begin to believe the very words we craft just to survive. The lie… is stronger when the liar believes the lie.

But I don’t want to lie. Or sometimes I do. I’m only human. But I don’t want to lie about every single thing in my life. The burden of every utterance I have created, it crushes me.

“I… do think that a pack working together is stronger … than a group that doesn’t,” I tell him, but as I do, my eyes fall to the side.

How can it be? The first time I tell a don the truth about what I think, I cower my head as if in shame. Though, if I had to admit it to myself, I know why I do so. It’s because speaking out the truth is a shame. It’s a sin. It’s something no one can afford.

No one.

He puts down the glass. I have no idea why he’s still holding it. It was empty, after all. The drink was consumed. But then again, I’m still holding my glass as well, even if it, too, is empty.

He takes a few steps and walks over, taking a seat next to me. It’s funny; even when I was rolling my hips against his crotch, I didn’t realize how big he is. I didn’t realize just how his form towers over me. Or then it’s just that I feel so small, as of now. But no matter if it’s just about me feeling small, or his body being much bigger than mine, he towers.

“I want you to look at me when you tell me that,” he says. He states. But the way those words roll from him with an undertone that is heavy, soft and dark, like crimson taffeta. The tone tells me that it’s a command.

He places his hand next to my cheek, fingers hovering over my skin, so close that I can feel his warmth radiating through the air. And he guides me to face him.

“Tell me,” he asks again, and I feel like he’s not going to ask for a third time. Those eyes… Those eyes that used to be purple, but again hold a veil of darkness, which I don’t know if it’s imaginary or not.

“Yes,” I utter, looking at him. I want to look away, but I can’t. I can’t.

I need to look at him.

And I do, but I’m not doing as he wants me to. The issue is that I realize it only as a frown rises to his face, one that is prominent. Piercing. There’s again that sense of being so much smaller, more frail, delicate, compared to him; that I am at his mercy.

For the purposes of being told the truth it’s counterproductive; it must be. It must be. But I don’t think he realizes it. He doesn’t realize how unyielding he looks. He doesn’t realize how forceful he looks.

I think he just is.

He doesn’t realize the depth of the authority he has.

Unlike that of Gueldre don’s, which is borrowed and imaginary. His authority and power are nothing but a figment, onto which he’s desperately trying to clutch. He holds onto it with the skin of his teeth; every way that he can, because he knows that those savage beasts he calls his soldiers, would tear him apart if he as much as turns his back.

I would too.

What happens in the Purple Orca’s, stays in the Purple Orcas. If we tear our don apart, that’s our business. And that’s precisely what it is, just business.

But that’s not what happens in the Crimson Lion Kings. At least I think it isn’t. Because this man, with eyes that are either laced with veil of darkness from hell, or that of heaven, I still can’t tell, doesn’t pretend. This isn’t an image, figment, a fallacy. This is very real.

I feel my heart racing.

He leans closer. That towering body of his leans closer.

There’s hunger in his eyes again.

“I… do think that a pack working together is stronger,” I tell him, with a whisper. I sound out of breath. Maybe because I am. Yes, because I am.

Does my body dare to breath when he’s there?

He halts. He doesn’t pull away, but he halts, stopping in his place. And he smirks.

There’s again that god awful… delicious… rich… tantalizing smirk that speaks of victory.

He likes to win.

I do too.

But I’m out of hands to play. I’m out of money to play with. I’m just sitting at the table with a blank deck of cards, hoping that the other players at the table won’t notice.

He continues. His movement continues. But he’s still not pulling away. Instead, he leans closer.

Closer.

Still closer.

Every inch he takes closer to me feels like a leap. Leaps that are slow. Every second that ticks away is a minute, and hour, a day, a week, the time that passes increases the closer he gets, all the way until it feels like an eternity.

Time has stopped.

The room, doesn’t exist.

The fire, crackling in the fireplace doesn’t exist.

There’s only the warmth of his body, radiating through the air. There’s only his breath, gliding over my cheek, like a wind passing through a forest fire.

That is when I am convinced of it.

He is fire.

He is the Prince of Fire and Darkness. The Don who has made a pact with Fire, Flames, Burning itself.

But he doesn’t smell like smoke. I can’t… No… I can’t find that smell from him. Of death and carnage, burning wood and flesh. I can’t find any of it from him.

Instead, what I get is a scent of lavender. So soft, caressing, lulling and embracing. It fills my lungs with tender promises of something better. It makes me light. I feel like melting, like fading, disappearing into that warmth, that scent, those careful whispers of something brighter.

And then he speaks.

One eternity is gone, just waiting for something. I don’t even know what. And quite frankly I don’t even care to know what I was waiting for. Not anymore. All I want is to feel the gentle caress of the scent of lavender.

And to hear the word he utters with barely a whisper. The sound tickles my skin, travelling over my ear, to my cheek, and down to my neck. It makes me shiver in the best possible way, sending waves of warmth down my body. As if his voice was like the flames that lick the surface of logs with a passion that cannot be quenched.

Fire never ceases to be hungry. Flames never willingly leave.

And I don’t want him to.

This warmth. This gentle, soft… caressing feeling that I can’t remember knowing. I don’t want it to end. Even if it might be a fallacy. Even if makes me out of breath.

Even if it makes my chest heave.

I don’t want it to end.

Selfish, but it’s what I want.

For this to continue.

“Good,” he whispers, right next to my ear. And the sound combines with the scent of lavender, and the feeling of caressing warmth.

‘Good’, he tells me.

[ktheist]

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. 

synopsis. 

sit still, look pretty. 

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

x

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

x

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, ���after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?” 

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-” 

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

x

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

x

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

x

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins. 

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man  back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

[cranesofibycus]

cranes, what do you think about jester's kind of reserved attitude towards fjord lately? i noticed it in 122 but it really stood out to me in 123, when she didn't react to his kiss with the exuberance i was expecting. i love fjorester, so i don't think i'm seeing things that aren't there, but what do you think is going on in her head? is she just shy? having second thoughts? conscious of caleb's feelings for her? (you don't have to reply to this if you think it'll start wank)

I mean, I don’t think I have particularly controversial opinions on this, so I don’t think it would start wank? Just a general warning that if anyone’s huge into Fj or Wj and doesn’t want to hear critical analysis of those ships, they might not want to read this post.

Like many people I have also noticed that Jester is a lot less vocal about her crush than we probably all expected, however I don’t think that’s because she is faking it or isn’t really into Fjord. That sort of attention and reciprocation is new to Jester. She is used to being the one who knocks people off their balance with her unfiltered kindness, joy and forward curiosity. This is a lame comparison, but to me Jester’s crush on Fjord has always felt a little like a dog chasing a car. Now they are finally actually developing something and Jester is overwhelmed. Having a crush is so much more comfortable than dealing with reciprocation. Anyone who has been in that sort of situation before knows how different real romantic relationships are to what you expected them to be. Everyday romance is much more subtle, quiet and intimate than any narrative romance, which is great but also terrifying when you’re new to it. Part of her might be afraid that if she’s too forward with her feelings it might ruin things and drive Fjord away again (after all, Fjord only really came around to her once she stopped her aggressive flirting - though I reckon that’s more coincidence than causality). So yeah, I think a part of it is inexperience and caution. Jester is out of her depth.

You bring up whether or not Jester knows about Caleb’s feelings. Well, we know that she doesn’t know about them, but Laura has also said before that Jester is aware of the effect she can have on people. For a while now Caleb has been really bad at hiding his feelings for Jester. Like, excruciatingly bad. The tone of his voice shifts when he talks to her, he is a lot more hesitant to disagree with her than with anyone else (apart from Veth maybe) and he’s visibly affected whenever she touches him. Like, the guy is not subtle anymore and I don’t think he could be if he wanted to. The fandom picked up on his feelings ages ago (at least the part of the fandom that was paying close attention to Liam’s acting), Yasha picked up on it thirty episodes ago and I would be surprised if Beau hadn’t noticed it as well (jury’s out on the others - Veth because of her own feelings for Caleb, Cad because he’s not really in-tune with that sort of stuff, and Fjord because of his own feelings for Jester and his lower-than-healthy insight). I think Jester suspects that Caleb has a crush on her and I think she is being a decent person and a compassionate friend by keeping her own feelings a little more hidden when they’re in a group setting. I have my opinions on whether or not Jester might have feelings for Caleb as well, but I recognize that those opinions are tinted by my own wishes as a fan. 

That being said, if there is one thing I trust completely it is Laura’s dedication to her characters. I’m a little uncomfortable with the take that she of course had to go for things with Fjord because Travis is her husband and it’s his first time exploring romance in RP, so she couldn’t turn him down. That’s an awfully big assumption to make about the cast’s private lives and how they factor into in-game events. I trust that Laura’s loyalty at that table is to Jester, and I haven’t seen anything that would contradict that.

You have to remember that much of the conflict in Laura’s characters happens internally. More than the struggle of overcoming some outward problem, Laura likes to explore a person’s struggle with themselves. Her stories are about coming to terms with who you are and who you actually want to be. She already did a masterful job with that in how she played Vex’s development, and from how much the fandom is picking up on the subtle hints that Jester is actually really not okay despite her cheerfulness, I’d argue she’s doing a banging job with Jester as well. How does that factor into her behavior towards the romance with Fjord? I think Laura is weaving that new thread into an already existing tapestry of Jester’s inner development; a tapestry that is much, much bigger than she is letting on.

[washymylifeaway]

Haikyuu fanfic recs for ones I liked hehe

EDIT: I made a pt 2

Anyway, as the title suggests, I am recommending some fanfics for popular(ish) ships that I personally really enjoyed! I’m only doing one or two fics per ship (which in hindsight is KILLING me so I’m just putting the first fics I find and am like I really liked that one LOL) because I wanted to do a shorter fic rec list (tho watch this become super long LOL). I also may or may not be procrastinating finishing a couple other long posts, so there’s that hehe. For the (kinda but not really) public consensus for best fics per ship (by kudo count) check out some of my other posts. Also I’m putting some ships I don’t actually read much of (OOPS LOL) so if you think that there’s a fic that fits my type (if I even have a consistent type) better, pls tell me LOL. Otherwise, pls continue heh :)

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading to make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) and stay healthy!

IwaOI:

The Loyalty of a Traitor by DeathBelle (E) 76.9k // ok so does me liking this fic make me basic cause I feel basic LOL. I really love mafia fics, and the way the story line developed was SO good, like IN LOVE with this story. This is a fic where you should read WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARY before diving in, but if the length scares you, don’t be. It’s so easy to fall in and get lost in the writing!

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu (chanyeol) (T) 66.3k // again, basic? Probably LOL but it’s good so I have no shame ;) Again, pls don’t let the word count scare you (cause it scared me LOL), you get really into it after like 2 paragraphs, so just make sure you have enough time to finish hehe.

KuroKen:

Thicker Than Blood by kylar (M) 91.4k // are you surprised that there is another mafia one? You really shouldn’t be LOL. Anyway, I’ll just be here pushing my mafia fanfic agenda while you read this monster of a fic hehe :) Definitely read WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARY because there is some very sensitive topics involved! I also adore the oibokuroo friendship headcannon, so more reasons to read, right?

Liked, Commented and Subscribed by Royal Society of Pandas (Abarcelos) (T) 45.7k // this fic is SO funny omg. I read it and I had to stop so many times just to laugh because I could not stop sometimes LOL. However, there IS angst towards the end, it gets resolved, but it’s still there... But honestly, it just adds such depth and flavor to the fic, so pls read it!

BokuAka:

bang! now we're even by Authoress (M) 11.9k // so I’ll be honest, I don’t read a lot of BokuAka (...oops?) and so I wouldn’t consider myself as the best person to be recommending fics for this ship (in general too LOL).... ANyway, I love myself some good spy AUs (was gonna put that IwaOi spy AU but the LIMIT), and Akaashi in a dress? Like the tags might state, what more do you need? The characters are done beautifully, and the story development is SO good, so I give you all my humble BokuAka rec.

Crisis Converted by valiantarmor (M) 60k // man do I really love fighting in my fics LOL. This was super good and the plot itself kept me really engaged (what a twist omg). It does talk a bit about mental health issues, but it’s done so well, and they really did this AU justice!

DaiSuga:

How to Manage by SuggestiveScribe (E) 39.3k // ok so yea yea we established, I’m basic, BUT can you blame me? This might’ve been one of the first DaiSuga’s I’ve read and I have no regrets. Literally, this fic series is one of my favorites, so OF COURSE I had to add it somewhere :D Honestly, I don’t even think you need to read the first one to understand what’s going on, but I would just cause it has some funny DaiSuga moments too ;) This is explicit for PWP, so proceed with caution~~

Add New Contact by booksong (G) 8.5k // this one! It’s so cute and poor Daichi LOL. He really out here doing the most,,, Anyway, we love tech Suga, and a nice dash of snarky tsukki (LOL is he salt, yes yes he is). It’s very fluff and pine, so if you want to read Daichi having gay panic like 24/7, go right ahead LOL. 

SakuAtsu:

Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) 91.2k // ummmm, haha what, another mafia AU? Me, predictable? Noooo, never..... Anyway, this one was so freakin’ good like, love it so much! It’s one of my favorite mafia AU fics, and I love the story line progression. Poor Atsumu being dragged into this mess, but it’s okay because THEY are IN LOVE. Honestly, this fic is Atsumu best boy like he is the best boy. BEST BOY.

Notte Stellata by awkwardedgeworth (T) 20.9k // I ignored all of the other fics I LOVE in this ship (like the pain I’m in rn), but I love this fic with my whole heart. Like I have reread this fic multiple multiple times because I love it so much (tho I might’ve skipped the angst a couple of times cause I didn’t want the pain okay?). I keep coming back, and the second fic in this series is SO funny and cute and I love it here. Please read it, it’s so FREAKING good, angst and ALL.

KyouHaba:

Team Mom by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead (T) 2.7k // so as I was going through this tag (because that’s what I do LOL), I remembered this fic and I love it. Like yes Yahaba is the fear factor and yes Kyoutani is the DAD. I really like the team dynamics in this one, and the first years make me laugh pls.

Camellias by kiyala (T) 1.9k // IK you’re all like, you’re missing such great fics, like no I’m not I just made myself hate myself by limiting fics to two per,,, I love this fic and when I starting looking for this ship, it was the first one I thought of hehe. I really love magic and their interactions are so cute and the PLANTS ARE DOING THE MOST. Pls read both in the series, cause domestic KyouHaba is best KyouHaba ngl LOL. I love the plants, and if you read the second one, someone tell the trees to stop bullying Yahaba.

MatsuHana:

This gets annoying fast, Makki by Ink_stained_quills (G) 2.3k // IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC PLS I COULD NOT STOP CRYING TEARS OF LAUGHTER. This AU needs more fics PLEASE. It was SO freakin’ funny and the other teams KILLED ME. Like how they all approached the problem differently and how some of them (KUROO) asked for help LOL. Please this is so freaking funny go read it.

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k // I told myself I was gonna put my most angsty fics on another post (which I will for my other favorite MatsuHana angst fic which I love), but this fic. Omg I saw it and I was like I have to. Literally I have to. I hate angst, but read it. It, the, plot, omg, I jjfnsfknalkjdnf ljksan. Like I’m not sure you understand. This fic. asjfjfsadnldjb. I never thought I could hate a character SO MUCH,,,, like SO MUCH. READ TAGS, WARNINGS, AND SUMMARIES because some serious stuff really goes down. Bless Iwa-chan.

SunaOsa:

Accidentally in Love by pancake_surprise (T) 19.6k // JOSE CUERVO strikes. I love this fic and all the chaos in it. The way they were supposed to be the responsible couple (of friends LOL),,, sike. This one is only a slight angst and it’s mostly love and fun :) Also technically this is no longer the first fic in the series, but I’m still putting this one cause the other one is SakuAtsu orientated hehe :)

Spring Secrets by DeathBelle (T) 3.8k // Seasons might be one of my favorite (as all things also seem to be) series of all times. I don’t like rerecommending fics I’ve already said to read, which is why I’m not yelling at you to go read a certain other fic (which is my life and blood). Anyway, this fic series is all fluff barely angst (maybe that’s why I like it) but it’s so freakin good pls read it all ahhhhhh.

Komori/Suna (what is their ship name):

I wish to live in a world by hatsuna (T) 24.8k // ok ngl this fic was so sad and relatable? Like I was like wtf why are you making me cry rn even though like I shouldn’t be? My heart? Pain. (Hotel? Trivago.) Technically, this is END GAME but the main pairing is kinda SakuAtsu???? Something of the sort, but also their relationship (Komori and Sakusa) is written so well and idk guys I think you need to read this fic rn.

Ah the two fic limit hurt me, but fear not I am making ship specific rec posts (LOL I’m so dramatic), so if you wanted more of a ship,,,, its a coming hehe. And yes I did say I’m making an angsty fic rec post, but we’ll see if it gets finished before I side-track with posts like these LOL.

[elminx]

Energy Update: October 2021

October is a “6” Universal Month {10(October) + 5 (2021) = 15 = 1+5 = 6}. For most of us, the quiet introverted energy of the number 6 is going to be a deep breath of relief after September which with its 5 energy made us feel like we needed to scurry, hurry, and do away, even when there was nothing left to do.

6 Energy is in perfect alignment with the harvest season as it encourages home, support, empathy, and even stillness. 6 carries to pause of expectancy, much like you experience within the Inguz rune. Within the 6 energy, perhaps, we can find the balance we would otherwise be sorely lacking this Libra season.

The Setup

The Sun, Mercury, and Mars are all in Libra heading towards a stellium (conjunct of three or more planets) that will peek slightly after our Libra new moon. Venus is ahead of the gang in Scorpio. Mercury, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, and Chiron all begin this month in retrograde. This is the nadir of retrograde season. The air is hazy, perceptions may be a bit off. Sink into the 6 energy by spending time in your home – go deep with your space. That will be an antidote to this energy all month long. This is a great month to do a deep seasonal clean. Donate the things that no longer serve you. Hold a seed, plant, or clothing swap. Get together with your loved ones to have a good meal. Stay close to home. Mercury retrograde in Libra is going to bring a lot of the retrograde tension into our relationships to remember to make space for conflict and try to find a solution that fits all people involved. Watch out for stickler issues around people-pleasing and unhealthy compromises. You can refer to my post about Mercury in retrograde for those details.

There are big shifts happening this month, we will end the month with the Sun and Mars in Scorpio, Venus in Sagittarius, and with Pluto, Saturn, Jupiter, and Mercury stationed direct. When the planets stand still while they station, it can feel like life is also standing still. We will be going into and out of this retrograde fog until Mercury and Jupiter station direct on 10/18. I reiterate: you may feel helpless to affect anything outside of your immediate home right now, but you can always have an effect on your home. Tap into the 6 energy to make your home a perfect haven for you and your others.

As Saturn begins his ascent forward again, he will tighten the ongoing square with Uranus in Taurus – this is our force paradox beginning to re-exert the vice grip we’ve been stuck in all year long. If you feel like you can’t make any headway, know that you are right on time.

The Nitty Gritty

This month we are being asked to sink deep into the root of it. We are at the end of a cycle, during the new year our lunar nodes will transition from the Gemini-Sagittarius axis to that of Taurus-Scorpio. Something deep inside all of us needs to shift to accommodate these changes that are happening all around us. This is a time to go slow and really tune in to your own rhythm.

This month has a lot going on: we will experience two cardinal T-squares between Aries-Libra-Capricorn, 1 Air Grand Trine between Moon-Mars-Jupiter, 1 Air stellium of Sun-Moon-Mercury-Mars in Libra, three planetary ingresses, and four planets that station direct and out of retrograde. Every one of our planets are fully engaged in this transformative moment.

The MVP for the month is going to be Pluto in Capricorn. Here we see echoes of all of 2020 but most specifically last Autumn when Mars went retrograde in Aries and squared off with Pluto in Capricorn. Now, one year later, in the opposite sign, Mars will do so again alongside the Sun and Mercury. Pluto is also, ironically, the first of the planets to move out of retrograde. He also rules one of our two cardinal T-squares of the month. Some outdated form or structure needs to die. Agreements are being tested. Loyalties are being questioned.

Mercury and Pluto clash twice more this cycle: they square off while they are both retrograde on 10/1 and then later when they are both direct on 11/2. These are part of a series of ongoing cardinal squares we’ve been experiencing since the very beginning of 2020. The Sun squares Pluto on 10/17 and Mars squares Pluto on 10/23. Additionally, our full moon in Aries on 10/20 is overshadowed by an intense cardinal T-square as the moon in Aries squares off against Pluto in Capricorn and opposes retrograde Mercury in Libra. All of these dates should be approached with a reasonable amount of caution. Pack your patience and expect some explosions. Pay special attention to when Mars and Pluto square off in the sky – those are fighting words. It may be difficult to escape the adrenaline rush of quick reactions but it is wiser during this time to step back and sit with things before leaping.

Again, the 6 energy of October can really support Sun and Mars in Libra’s ideal of everybody getting an even slice of the pie. Dig into this. Where are you taking too much? Where are you not giving enough? Start small this month – look at your own body. Think about how you take care of yourself. Or, if you are more inclined, take a deep look at how you are taking care of your living space. Check on all of your plants. Do a roommate-style check-up with any humans that you live with. Spend some time with your pets. Come back to center by grounding yourself in your safe home, in your body, in this moment.

Mercury makes two additional trines to Jupiter in Aquarius during its retrograde cycle while both are retrograde on 10/3 and later when both are direct on 11/1. This is a fast-moving transit but can provide insight and luck when needed.

As the first full week of October progresses, the Sun, Mercury, and Mars fall into line for a stellium that lights up the sky when joined by the moon on 10/6. This is a big power day. If you have been looking for a day to find your new path, this one is it. Just remember, Mercury is still in retrograde so you may see your path only to have it obscured in the mists again. Look towards 11/6-11/7 when Mercury will again conjunct Mars (this time in Scorpio) for a day to put this new path into action.

On 10/7 Venus enters Sagittarius and the mood will get marginally lighter. Venus in Sagittarius is mutable fire energy – she wants you to let your heart roam. You might find yourself more interested in trying new things and going on adventures while Venus is in the sign of the archer. The excitement of Saggy bear energy will get tamped down quickly by the retrograde haze so don’t expect to follow through on those beautiful but whimsical plans anytime soon.

The weekend of 10/8-10/10 is a great time to take one big cosmic pause. Stay home. Say no. Take a bath instead. The Moon, Venus, and the South Node will make a brief conjunction at 02° Sagittarius just as Venus goes out of bounds. A planet is considered out of bounds when it goes above the tropic of Cancer, or, in this case, below the Tropic of Capricorn. These points reflect the plurality of the solstices and Summer-Winter connection. Planets that are out-of-bounds can be hard to reach – you may find it harder to access your feelings of empathy or may be down on yourself more about your physical appearance while Venus is out of bounds. This may be especially rough for our Venus-ruled Libras who are already undergoing an intense Mercury retrograde transit in their chart.

Be wary here. There’s a lot of prickle to the world these days and something about Venus going out of bounds right now reminds me a bit of checking out instead of dealing with what is going on in your own life. That won’t cut it through this year – through these hard aspects – you really need to settle in and do the work. There is so much to be gained right now by showing up and staying aware with yourself through these adjustments.

What is coming up during this time needs to be addressed. With so many personal planets involved, something close to home needs attending to. This weekend and really the whole month would be very counter-indicated for going away. Watch for who runs rather than showing up. On Sunday, Saturn stations direct at 06° Aquarius – this immediately reactivates our Saturn-Uranus square and tensions will begin to rise a bit. This is a long-term aspect that doesn’t resolve until the end of the year so there’s not much to do other than observe it now.

We experience our second cardinal T-square on 10/12 as Mercury retrograde in Libra squares off with the Moon in Capricorn and opposes Chiron retrograde in Aries. This is a major pain point, something that has been brought to light during this Mercury retrograde cycle.

This Mercury-Chiron oppositional peeks on 10/18 and will continue strong for another week or so. Mercury’s post-shadow stretched through the rest of October and into November, remember that we need to retrace our steps back through Libra before the lessons of this retrograde cycle will be fully revealed.

Mercury is joined by Jupiter going direct also on 10/18 – this is a go day. Do it. Make a difference. Make a plan. Make a list. You are supported.

The energy should shift drastically as the Sun enters Scorpio on 10/22 and Mars follows on 10/30. We might feel a bit like we’ve jumped from one deep pool to another as Scorpio season hints immediately at its own depths and the eclipse season that comes with it.

Our sweet Air Grand Trine happens on Monday 10/25 when the Moon in Gemini lines up briefly with Mars in Libra and Jupiter in Aquarius. This is another go day. Think big. We are starting to feel the pull of forward momentum now that some of the retrograde fog has lifted. The last week of October holds the lightest energy of the month – again, ironically.

As if we are walking this month backward, like Merlin. Spirit reminds me that he was another traveler who walked the low path.

All in all the energy of the month is going to be dense and prone to internalization. How you perceive that and how comfortable it makes you have a lot to do with your personal chart and comfort with self-reflection. Watch out for emotional regulation or disassociation especially around any of those harsh aspects between the moon, Mercury, Mars, and Pluto. Watch out for denial and rose-colored glasses – the world is trying to tell you something for a reason – it’s time to stop ignoring your gut instincts. It’s the time for you to show up every day, as often as you are able, for yourself.

Good Days: 10/2, 10/6, 10/8, 10/13, 10/16, 10/18, 10/25 Caution Days (Saturn square Uranus): 10/14, 10/21 Caution Days (Cardinal squares): 10/1, 10/3, 10/12, 10/17, 10/20, 10/22 Fuzzy Days: 10/6, 10/10, 10/18, 10/26

The Aspects

Please keep in mind that most aspects have an effect for a number of days before and after the day of exactitude, listed below. I have bolded aspects the require particular attention.

10/1 – Mercury Rx in Libra square Pluto Rx in Capricorn, Mars in Libra opposed Chiron in Aries 10/2 – Venus in Scorpio sextile Pluto Rx in Capricorn – sweet days 10/3 – Mercury Rx in Libra trine Jupiter Rx in Aquarius, Sun in Libra opposed Chiron in Aries 10/6 – Dark Moon at 13° Libra conjunct Mercury Rx and Mars, Pluto SD 10/7 – Venus enters Sagittarius 10/8 – Sun conjunct Mars 15° Libra – where do you need to move forward in your life? What motivates you? How can you be the best version of who you are right now? 10/9 – Sun conjunct Mercury retrograde, Mercury retrograde conjunct Mars, Moon square Jupiter Rx, Moon sextile Pluto Rx, Moon conjunct Venus and the South Node 2° Sagitarrius, Venus OOB – here you may really see where you are out of alignment with your path here. You may have to return to something you think that you’ve outgrown (Venus conjunct South Node). See warning above about Venus OOB 10/10 – Saturn SD 10/11 – Mercury opposed Chiron begins – this close aspect will last for the next 15 days, its a pain point that is being reactivated by this Mercury retrograde cycle – these to planets will stay within one degree of conjunction from 10/15-10/20 10/12 – Moon in Capricorn square Mercury Rx in Libra, Cardinal T Square – CAUTION – this is another one of these days that is going to light up that long-term fight. You know the one. 10/13 – Venus in Sagittarius sextile Saturn Rx in Aquarius 10/14 – Sun in Libra trine Jupiter Rx in Aquarius, Moon conjunct Saturn in Aquarius, Moon square Uranus – CAUTION – the Sun meets Jupiter while the sky is tense with our Saturn-Uranus square. Don’t pick that fight. 10/16 – Mercury Rx in Libra sextile Venus in Sagittarius – a way through, seek out freedom for everybody 10/17 – Sun in Libra square Pluto in Capricorn – CAUTION – go slow 10/18 – Jupiter SD, Mercury SD, Mars in Libra trine Jupiter in Aquarius, Mercury opposed Chiron – go days – get it. 10/20 – Full Moon at 27° Aries, T Square between moon in Aries, Pluto in Capricorn, and Mars in Libra – CAUTION. Take things slowly today. Watch your temper. Remember to pick your battles. 10/21 – Moon square Saturn, Moon conjunct Uranus – CAUTION, go slow 10/22 – Mars square Pluto – CAUTION, go slow. Take a break. Stay home. 10/23 – Sun enters Scorpio 10/25 – Air Grand Trine between Moon in Gemini, Mars in Libra, and Jupiter in Aquarius – go days, get it. think big. 10/26 – Venus in Sagittarius square Neptune Rx in Pisces – foggy 10/30 – Sun in Scorpio square Saturn in Aquarius

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[tf2strategist]

support class with a clingy and needy s/o? like always wants to be with them, sitting on their lap, holding hands, etc but also is careful not to annoy them too much

Support Classes with a Clingy S/O?

I hope I got the gist of this ask, I think I might have derailed just a bit but hopefully this is what you were looking for! 

Image is from tf2gallery!

Medic:

Honestly, his experiments can certainly get loud at times, and the infirmary having as many doves in it as it does, having his future S/O there wasn’t quite an issue.

It was their constant need to be next to him that he was baffled by. Wielding sharp tools for surgery, he now had to be mindful that there was somebody directly beside him as they watched intently. Eventually, he tried finding ways to make them comfortable, seeing as they seemed to enjoy his enthusiasm-- (And having someone who was less terrified of him was a welcome change, if not a bit worrying for other reasons), it always seemed to bring his future S/O back beside him.

He’s learned that the doves can do most of the work for him, serving as feathery distractions for them to interact with, but he eventually learns that just being there and around for this person seems to keep them at ease. Why he seems to seek them out too when stressed he can’t quite understand…

Well, no matter! That wasn’t all there was to talk about.

Outside of the infirmary, he found that his S/O tended to stick behind him or close to his side, straying away from the others as if afraid. Surely they had their priorities backwards, but who is he to complain? Being the team Medic, he’s often blamed for the decisions and mistakes others have made, not being able to be everywhere at once. The trust his S/O put into him was a welcome change.

Having them in his lap and sort of keeping him away from his office to de-stress had to have been the biggest change to get used to. Despite this, he feels as if he gets more work done, as it gives him the chance to recharge and think of- then look forwards to all of the experiments he could perform and the wild changes he could make to his teammates. At first, he hadn’t been willing to, but now it seemed to be just another part of life.

Hey, while you’re with him, could you remind him to wash his gloves, though? He keeps staining your shirt with blood.

Sniper:

Sniper, being somebody who’s always worked alone, even whilst in a team environment, was baffled by his S/O at first. 

Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been isolated all these years as he silently took headshots from across the map, and now you’ve waltzed up and into his life without warning.

He certainly doesn’t mind it after a week or two, but at first he’s a bit put off by it. He’s not used to the constant need for contact, social interaction, but the sweet conversations you two have are more than enough to convince him to stay. Eventually getting to know each other better, he learns to love the attention.

Sometimes he’ll snipe with you in his lap, though it has to be if he knows he won’t be approached much that game, or if he’s not trying out a new position to snipe from.

Funnily enough, with you approaching him as much as you do, it becomes more difficult for Spy to creep up behind him with a second pair of eyes sweeping the room and shifting a man with tunnel vision into a much more active, aware man.

When he can’t be there, he’ll always spend extra time after battle with his S/O, sitting in silence while doing something like sharpening his kukri, drinking homemade tea or cider, polishing his boots, or just being wrapped up under a blanket in the van.

Spy:

Spy, at first, was very much driven away by the forwardness of their S/O. But as time went on, and they continued to stay close to him, he began to wonder why it was that his S/O trusted him so much.

So, giving it a shot, he, in private mind you, allows his S/O to sit beside him? Yes, that would do. Perhaps it would satiate their constant nagging for attention. Yet oddly enough, whenever he seemed to show frustration over it- a break in his character, they’d quiet down and frown, immediately backing off.

This respect of space strengthened his trust in you. After all, one must always exercise extreme caution around Spy, and the lack of it had begun to wear him down. But when it became clear you had no intention of annoying him, respecting his boundaries and stepping away when need be, it allowed him to think more of what you meant to him.

He still freezes up in public at times when his S/O decides to hold his hand. Walking closely beside him was one thing, but hand holding seemed so… Unnatural, to him. 

Yet, he holds onto their hand anyway! No matter what looks it may garner him, a steely glare is usually enough to push back bystanders. He will protect you, knowing that while you may be misguided in who you choose to trust, that he’ll pay back simple kindness with fierce loyalty.

The longer the two of you spend together, the less space tends to matter. He’ll allow his S/O to sit in his lap so long as they don’t ruin his suit, normally he tends to wear the button up with the sleeves rolled up beneath it instead whilst on his own anyway. Still, it amuses him seeing his S/O resting against his chest, almost catlike in their contentment to stay there. Why they chose a Spy of all people, he’s yet to wrap his head around that one.

[darkisrising]

Bobadinluke, 37?

Ooooooooooh, Anon. Dear, sweet sweet Anon. You have NO idea how overboard I went on this, lolol. Thank you for the prompt, I hope when you read this next 4k+ words you won't regret it too much. Disclaimer: All I know about prison I learned by watching Oz back in the day. Full whump in this one, and threats of sexual assault though none actually occur. Some character death, some mentions of transactional sex... lottttttta cursing. Yeah, just, if you decide to read this one please proceed with caution. 37. meeting in prison au, BobaDinLuke

“First thing you do when you get to prison,” Anakin Skywalker whispered into his son’s ear as he held him so tightly Luke couldn’t draw in a deep enough breath, though maybe that was just the panic setting in. “You find the leader of the Sith in there and tell him Darth Vader said to take care of you. He goes by Maul. He’ll keep you safe.”

In answer, Luke hissed “Fuck you, you fucking bastard” and sincerely meant every word of it. When the guards pulled them apart to lead Luke away—the irons around his ankles clattering ominously—it was a relief. For a father that had thrown him and his sister by the wayside as they were growing up, leaving them to be raised by distant and dubiously-related relations, he sure had decided to make himself suspiciously present in the courtroom ever since he’d framed his only son for murder.

“Don’t be proud, Luke,” Anakin called out, his voice cutting through the courtroom’s chatter. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

Luke’s tempted to throw another “fuck you” over his shoulder but then he caught sight of Leia, clutching her tiny lump of a newborn son in her lap. Her eyes were as close to crying as he’d ever seen his sister get and that’s when it all came crashing down on him. That this moment, which some stupid, fragile part of him had thought would never really come to pass, had happened. He’d held on to hope that someone—some jurist— would listen to all the damning witness testimonies and look at all the gruesome crime scene photos and then look at Luke—pacifist, Prius-driving, yoga teacher Luke—and think “No, it couldn’t possibly have been him.” He had a rescue dog, for fuck’s sake. He’d gotten Artoo from the no-kill shelter that he volunteered at between shifts at the local food pantry.

How the fuck could they ever believe him guilty of murder?

But Anakin Skywalker, leader of the Sith crime syndicate—second only to the so-called Emperor whose identity was a mystery to all but his most trusted underling—was good at what he did. If he wanted to kill a district attorney, he killed a district attorney. If he wanted to pin it on his son to keep his own ass out of prison, then that’s what he did. And then if he showed up every single goddamn day to Luke’s trial, sitting there just behind his son so that no one could help but notice the resemblance between the two of them—couldn’t help but speculate at how close they must be for his father to be taking such a personal interest in his son’s trial—until a person decided that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the rotten, mafia-laden tree?

Well, then; he did that, too.

Guilty on all counts. Seven life sentences to be served consecutively. One hundred and five years without the possibility of parole, and Luke knows as soon as the van pulls up to the prison gates and he’s shuffled out along with all his fellow offenders deemed too dangerous to society for anything but the most maximum of maximum security prisons, that he is going to die here.

As it turns out he doesn’t have to go looking for the Sith. Word of his arrival has preceded him and he turns from placing the blanket and pillow he’s been assigned onto the bunk he’s been assigned to see he’s been followed.

“Hey, you Vader’s kid?”

There are two men lingering by his cell’s opening and Luke doesn’t need to ask who they are to know what they are. They have that same glint in their eyes, rabid fanaticism and zero fucks to give, that mark all the Sith that Luke has had the displeasure of knowing in his life.

“No,” Luke says as mildly as he can manage before turning his back on them to pluck at his blanket under the guise of making his bed. His hands are shaking, his anger at his father is like runoff from a melting mountain snow, and he takes deep, careful breaths to try to staunch the torrent. He’d kill for a yoga mat and a dim room right about now, but he doubts that’s in the cards for him anytime soon.

“Aren’t you Skywalker?”

“I am,” Luke allows. “But I’m afraid my father’s name is Anakin. Not Vader.”

“Oh, come on,” one says, standing close enough that Luke can smell that his clothes are fresh from the dryer. It’s an industrial smell and utterly impersonal. “We both know who Anakin Skywalker really is. Maul wants to see you.”

“I’m afraid Maul is just going to have to be disappointed, then, because I don’t want to see him.”

“I think you’re going to want to,” the other one says, flanking Luke’s other side and he’s suddenly very aware of how small this cell is, especially with three bodies in it. “Pretty blond kid like you? Lots of ways you can end up hurt, you know what I’m saying? You’re going to need someone to protect you while you’re here.”

“I can protect myself.”

They only laugh, like they both know things that he doesn’t, but they don’t press the matter any further. Luke finds out the next day they were right to laugh. Maybe Luke had taken enough martial arts classes as a kid—from a sensei teaching out of a strip mall that was so wizened and stooped that he wasn't much taller than the children he instructed— to think he knows something about something. As he lays on the floor of the prison’s basketball court with the taste of his own blood leaking through his clenched teeth, a bribed guard smirking near the closed door as six men pummel him with fists and feet, Luke quickly learns how little he knows about anything. When one stomps on his wrist Luke doesn’t even scream, the pain is so white hot he can only cling to consciousness for one bright, all-encompassing moment before everything fades to black. The last words he hears before he’s gone are “Tell Darth Vader that the Tuskens send their regards,” and then: nothingness.

When he wakes up in the medical ward there is a cast on his arm and a man staring down at him. He's wearing the khaki pants and button up shirt of a prisoner. Tattoos spill across his face, down his neck, and continue again along his exposed forearms and for a moment Luke wonders if he’s the only one that can see this fearsome creature of a man for all that the nurses and guards and other prisoners are ignoring him.

“Still think you don’t need my protection, young Skywalker?”

Maul. It has to be.

Luke has to clear his throat before it’s any use to him but eventually he’s able to get out “Dunno why I’d need it. ‘M doing great.”

Maul grins and a mouthful of sharp teeth glint in the stale, fluorescent light. “Yeah? Well let’s see how long that lasts. Your daddy says I’m not supposed to raise a finger to help you until you pledge loyalty to the Sith.”

Luke’s heart kicks over as a chill spreads across his skin. So that’s what all of this has been about. For years his father had tried to get Luke to join him, to serve the Emperor just as he did, and now—what?—Anakin thought he could force Luke’s hand? That he could manipulate him into a situation where he’d have no choice but to swear his allegiance to the darkness Luke has tried so hard to exorcise from his life?

“That’s never going to happen,” Luke says and Maul only pats Luke’s ankle, a parody of comfort.

“Oh, it will, young Skywalker. The only question is how much pain are you willing to bear before you do? There are a lot of men in here that hate your father. I’m sure one of them will convince you that you need our protection.”

Maul isn’t wrong. In his first month in prison Luke becomes intimately aware of the intricacies of his cell block’s various factions and all the ways that Darth Vader has, one way or another, fucked over each and every one of them. He learns it in the cafeteria, where he’s jumped in line to get his food, and in the gym, where he’s pinned down by steel between the weight racks, and in the library, where he’s caught somewhere between the dictionary and the encyclopedias. He almost learns it in the showers when the leader of the Hutts has him dragged to his knees but that was blessedly interrupted by a CO actually doing his job for once.

Jabba watches him go, thick tongue licking across even thicker lips, and Luke knows his time is running out. He’s going to need to find a protector and quick.

***

The one respite he's found in this hellish existence are to be found at night. His cellmate, an old man with a white beard that everyone else calls “Crazy Old Ben,” is a lifer who is less interested in Luke’s body and more concerned with his soul. Together they meditate, sitting on the cold concrete floor and tuning their breaths until Luke can pretend not to hear the sounds of quiet violence and even quieter pleasure in the almost-dark prison.

Old Ben takes Luke under his wing until the day Luke comes back from a shower to find no trace of Ben save for the ratty old bathrobe he always wears. It’s crumpled into a heap on the otherwise pristine cell floor, like he had been in it and then, suddenly, was gone.

When the blaring sirens and red flashing lights and screaming of the guards call for a lockdown, Luke knows, he knows, he knows whose body has been discovered. And when, from across the hall through bars of his own, Maul catches his eye and smirks, Luke knows who ordered the hit on the only friend Luke had found in this God forsaken place.

***

Somehow the warden talks Luke into leading a yoga class for his fellow inmates. It's bullshit, of course; no one ever shows up. But it is nice to have space enough to move the way he wants to without risking someone stepping on his throat while he's down in Shavasana or taking his downward facing dog as an invitation for something he’s not interested in offering.

One day he’s startled to find a man he's never noticed before waiting for his arrival. He’s flanked by two that Luke has had plenty of run-ins with already to know they run with the Mando gang and Luke balks when he catches sight of Vizsla but for once there’s no smirking taunts to be had from him. He stares sightlessly ahead, chin raised, as if at attention and that more than anything makes Luke look back at the unknown man again.

He’s handsome: with sad, dark eyes and a scruffy appearance that somewhat distracts from the fact that his prison uniform is wrapped tight around a body that’s been whittled lean with muscles. He has a smattering of scars, remnants of violence that cut across his arms and hands, and if he’s there to beat Luke up he certainly doesn’t act like it when he extends his hand politely.

"I'm Din," he says in a careful, unassuming voice and Luke warily takes his hand, giving his name in return. “I understand you’re running a yoga class here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke says, glancing at Vizsla again and wetting his lips. “But, um, if you need the room it’s yours. No one ever shows and so I can clear out—”

“I’m here to take the class.”

“Oh,” Luke says, mouth running before his mind has caught up but what else if new? “Oh, well, that’s great. Let me get you set up with a mat. Are your, your—” he casts about for the right words. “—friends? Going to be joining us?”

Vizsla snorts. “Hell no, Skywalker. We’re just here to make sure nothing happens to the Manda’lor.”

It takes everything in Luke to simply nod and turn to the pile of mats to find one that isn't reeking of sweat and mold from being shoved into storage dirty. To not gawk at the doe-eyed man who even Luke, who prides himself on knowing nothing about his father's world, knows rules over all the Mandalorians, both inside and outside the prison. The one man that not even Anakin Skywalker will fuck with.

"I have a son," Din explains with a shrug when the class is over and Luke has been rendered suitably impressed with the fluid grace with which the fearsome Mandalorian gang leader had moved through every pose, his body made for movement and honed by battle. "The people that are watching him for me say there's this lady on YouTube that teaches kids yoga that he’s gotten really into. I just thought if I tried it it could almost be like we were, well," he shrugs again like whatever he's about to say is too unbearably personal and despite himself Luke finds it utterly charming.

Luke smiles, asking "How old is he?"

"Five."

"Well, if he’s anything like his dad then he must be a natural at yoga, too."

Din's lips quirk in a smile and something complicated in Luke’s belly curls at the sight. Or maybe it's not so complicated, Luke considers as he watched the Mand’alor leave with his guards. Luke can recognize a burgeoning crush when he feels it. He floats through his shift in the kitchen, contentedly lost in his memory of the other man, until he's brought back to reality when he takes a punch to the side of his head.

"Watch what you're doing, Skywalker. Hate for you to get hurt when you've got your head in the clouds, " the inmate supervisor calls out and Luke can only nod as he ignores the pain from his jostled skull and gets back to work.

Luke keeps his crush to himself, and would avoid Din completely if not for the fact that folks are remarkably less inclined to punch him in the face whenever he’s in the Manda’lor’s company and so he tries to be as close to him as often as he can. It’s strategic, Luke tells himself, as he asks Din if he has any pictures of his son and coos over a kid with giant eyes who is triumphantly holding up two bright pink Easter eggs. The more Din likes him, the better his chances when he finally works up the courage to officially ask for his protection. He knows he doesn’t have much to offer in return, but by now Luke knows the transactional nature of prison. His body is a hot commodity and he’s perfectly willing to give Din exclusive use of his ass and mouth if it keeps him alive.

He ignores the thrill of excitement that the thought of sex with Din inevitably brings.

So Luke flirts, flickering little touches here and leaning in closer there, hoping that eventually things will progress naturally. They don’t, but that’s okay because Luke is nothing if not persistent. He has full faith in his ability to work the cute twink angle. Lord knows he did it enough when he was on the outside and had far less to lose.

And it works. Sort of. Din doesn’t seem to notice that Luke drifts along in his orbit after morning yoga classes, sometimes well into the evening and as close to lights out as he dares. The reason why he doesn’t make a move on Luke becomes painfully, achingly, mortifyingly clear the morning Luke enters the meeting-come-yoga room to find Din in a passionate kiss with someone Luke’s never seen before.

He should have known something was different when there had been no Mandalorians posted by the door but this. This. This is. It’s—

The man whose mouth Din is trying to crawl into is built like a shit brick house, all thick muscles and big dick energy as he holds Din by the jaw and their teeth clack so hard that Luke can feel the echo in his own mouth. When he tears away to fix Luke with a stare, he can see that this man’s been so scuffed by life that even his scars have scars and when he speaks it is with a deep, gravel voice that shivers across Luke’s skin.

“You must be Luke,” he says, as if he hadn’t just been caught making out in a dark room. Like Luke can’t see his raging hard-on through his prison-issued pants.

With a calming breath Luke grasps desperately for his most enlightened and peaceful tone as he replies. “I am. Will you be joining us for class, Mister….”

“Fett. Boba Fett. And no fucking way. I’m just here to stand in the corner and enjoy the view.” He smirks at Din who answers with a smile that’s absolutely smitten and Luke can feel his heart jump into his throat before plummeting into his stomach.

“Of course. Make yourself comfortable.”

When the class is over Luke lingers in the room, taking his sweet time rolling up the mats. As he follows Boba out, Din turns to look back at Luke with a confused expression. “Aren’t you coming?”

“No, no, you go on ahead. I’ve got things to do.” Din’s eyebrow raises and Luke can concede that maybe his voice was a little high, a little pinched, but Din doesn’t press the issue. He only shrugs and tells Luke “Well, you know where to find me” before he’s out into the hall.

Luke doesn’t need to go in search of information on Boba Fett. It’s drifting through the filtered prison air wherever he goes. His re-incarceration is all anyone can talk about, starting from his offense—knocked over a grocery store and killed the clerk, if you can believe that stupid shit—and wild guesses as to why he would have gotten caught doing something so petty when he’d finally been paroled—probably just missed his husband, you know how stupid those two are for each other.

“Guess you got tossed to the curb, huh, Skywalker?” Jabba says when they are working the food service line and Luke is very carefully keeping his eyes from looking at where Din is sitting, trying to eat between laughs as Boba crowds so close he’s practically in the Manda’lor’s lap. “Tough break. You know the offer still stands if you want a new cock to suck.”

Telling the Hutt what exactly he can do with his cock and precisely how his mother might like it might give him a surge of soaring adrenaline for the moment but he quickly sees the error of his ways when it’s time to clean up and he’s shoved into the industrial freezer next to all the rows of Hoth Farms Vegetables.

By the time he’s found he’s pretty much stopped shivering which doesn’t seem like a good sign. The doctors in the medical ward seem to agree, at least as far as Luke can tell by all their scrambling activity when he’s wheeled in, barely clinging to consciousness.

***

“That was remarkably stupid,” a melodious voice says a week later.

Luke has been able to cling to lucidity well enough that he’s been sent back to gen pop, for all that he keeps to his bunk and can’t seem to stay awake for longer than a few hours. Shockingly no one has been by to harass him in his weakened state but his luck has finally run out. There is a mountain of a man leaning in his cell’s doorway, and Luke can’t even find the energy to be nervous by the way Boba Fett’s dark eyes are narrowly assessing him.

“I excel at stupid.”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that from what I’ve been hearing about you. Son to one of the scariest sons of bitches around and yet you refuse to join up with your old man’s gang. Instead you prefer to get the shit kicked out of you like you're just another prison bitch.”

“Yep, that’s me alright,” Luke says with false cheer as he struggles to sit up.

“Word also has it that you’ve been following my husband around like a bitch in heat.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Listen, Fett—”

“Now I don’t begrudge you a little schoolboy crush. Din is a hot piece of ass. And I haven’t exactly been around so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt here that you didn’t know that he was otherwise engaged.”

“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

“Okay. Good. That’s that.” Fett nods at him, but he doesn’t move from where he stands, still watching Luke. Still taking his measure.

“Does, uh,” Luke’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, a nervous gesture that Fett’s eyes watch sharp as knives. “Does Din know that I—” and he can’t bring himself to say anything more about it.

Fett snorts a laugh. “Din is clueless about just about everything but fighting and fucking. He doesn’t even know whose kid you are. I’d be very surprised to hear he was able to figure out for himself that you’re in love with him.”

“Ah. Okay, well that’s,” Luke stops when the ache in his chest tightens so abruptly he can hardly breathe. Still, he forces out a bleak: “That’s good.”

“It is. Take care of yourself, Skywalker.”

***

There seems little point in fighting against the inevitable after that. If his father thought prison was going to break him, then he’d thought right. He takes a month of beatings without so much as lifting a finger to protect himself. His face is in a perpetual state of bruises but he hardly notices for all that it feels like he’s floating, like he’s becoming one with some great higher power and one day he might just fade away entirely.

Fett is usually there in the periphery—watching, always watching—and Din’s eyebrows furrow every morning when he catches sight of some new mark, some swollen finger, some hastily bandaged scape.

“What’s going on?” he asks and it seems like Fett was right, Din really is that unobservant if he doesn’t see how often Luke is made to bear marks in answer for the sins of his father.

Luke plants a sunny smile on his aching face while Fett watches them from the corner of the room, arms crossed and face twisted in a scowl. “Not much. Same old same old. Shall we begin with our Ohms?”

***

He’s spitting blood down the drain after another ambush that leaves him splayed on the slippery communal shower floor when Fett finally confronts him.

“What the fuck are you playing at? You’re a dead man walking, Skywalker. Quit being stupid and go to Maul. Get his protection.”

“Never,” Luke grinds out with more vehemence than he’s felt in a long time. “I’ll never join the Sith.”

“Why not?”

“Like you care,” he says, reaching for a washcloth to finish the shower that had been unavoidably interrupted. Fett gets to it first and he holds it aloft and out of Luke’s reach unless he wants to strain his ribs that have seen better days.

“You got some kind of Daddy issues or something? That why you won’t become a Sith?”

“Hey, fuck you, Fett,” Luke says and he waits for Fett’s first punch but it never comes.

“Come here,” he says instead, his head tilting curiously. Luke doesn’t move and Fett rolls his eyes. “Come here, don’t look at me like I’m about to eat you.”

A washcloth wielded by a surprisingly gentle hand dabs at Luke’s face. He holds perfectly still under the ministrations while Boba leans in closer. “You’ve got gett'se, that’s for sure.”

“Like I know what that means.” Luke’s tone is bratty and rather than take offense, Fett smiles.

“Gett'se. Guts. Courage. Going to need to learn Mando’a if you’re going to be joining me and Din for the foreseeable future.”

“What?” Luke asks, eyes wide, and Fett doesn’t answer. Not in words.

The distance between them disappears as Fett presses his plush lips to Luke’s bleeding ones. He’s careful, so careful in his kiss and it shatters something vital in Luke. Tears are burning his eyes, biting at his nose, by the time Fett pulls away. “You’re breaking Din’s heart, the way you’ve been carrying on, cyar'ika. And that’s been breaking mine. So why don’t you do us all a favor and come be ours for a little while. If you hate it, we can set you up with someone else, but I have the feeling you’re going to like it just fine. What do you say?”

Luke can’t speak through the tightness of his throat, through the spilling of his tears of relief, and when Fett kisses him again, and again, and again, each time it’s like he’s someone worth caring about. Someone that matters.

Fett—Boba—turns on the shower and leads him under the spray, washing his hair and his skin. “Shouldn’t I be doing that for you?” Luke asks quietly and Boba laughs.

“Sure. Soon as you can lift your arms higher than your shoulders you're free to do anything you want to my body. Until then let me wash your fucking hair, alright? Gotta make you pretty for Din, yeah?"

He rests his forehead against the immense, solid expanse of Boba’s wet chest and for the first time in a long time he feels safe enough to close his eyes somewhere that isn’t his locked cell.

When the guards— who had fucked off to wherever the hell they’d been bribed to go while Luke took maybe his last beating ever—finally show up and yell at them to break it up, Luke isn’t even mad about it because Boba is tossing him a towel and telling him to hurry up and dry off. Din is waiting for them.

[deithe]

the bones (2,847 words) (1/1)

(an introspective on jason grace. kind of?)

read here on ao3 or read below the cut!

jason falls in love with the human equivalent of a forest fire

(his mother fell in love with the sky itself)

jason grace grew up being told that his destiny was very, very simple.

his first and most important mission, handed down to him from lady juno and mother lupa, was that jason was destined to save rome. that his destiny lay with new rome and camp jupiter, a new romulus to lead the pack to greatness. he would spill so much blood in new rome’s name that the little tiber would overflow and the gods would crown him with a golden laurel made from monster ichor.

he would be everything everyone else needed.

a spear for the senate, a shield for new rome, a standard to replace the one that had been lost, a sword for the gods to wield, and another pack member for lupa. he would be the perfect soldier, a demigod fashioned by two god-mothers for the simple act of being a weapon.

his second duty was that jason was to be nothing like his father.

his father, evil, unpredictable, selfish and cruel, was to be jason’s antithesis. lady juno stressed this, as did the senate, as did his praetors (though praetor saville jason eventually killed in battle, so jason doesn’t take her words to heart anymore). jason was never, ever to be like his father. all sons of jupiter before him were either driven insane or were killed, and jason’s great destiny could not afford for him to do either of those things.

‘hubris’ lady juno once told him, while going through his latin lessons in the damp cold of the den (or wolf house, as she called it), ‘is the thing that kills sons of jupiter’.

so jason was to never be prideful, but at the same time, never to believe he was inferior. he was to be subservient but never meek, he was to be a capable fighter but never violent. he was to be kind but not a pushover. open but not flirtatious.

he was to be perfect. he could not afford anything else.

then he, in the span of a few months, murdered his prateor after finding out she was a traitor, watched his friend be assaulted by a family legacy of prophetic visions which turned him into a paranoid asshole, watched his other friend assume a leadership role, one which he tried to refuse, and fought an army, killed a titan and toppled kronos’ black throne.

he also became praetor and then was promptly kidnapped by lady juno, leaving said other friend with all the responsibility.

then any and all plans the gods had for him were ruined by a daughter of aphrodite with eyes like the earth and a son of hephaestus with a smile like war.

how could jason be the perfect soldier when his loyalties no longer lay with new rome? he loved his home, he loved his siblings-in-arms, he loved the legion-

he loved leo and piper more than the breath in his lungs, than the sky and earth and more than his destiny. he loved them enough to try and find whatever scraps of himself he had. to create something they could love too.

(heracles killed himself after accidentally killing his family. love killed him in the end)

and so, jason failed in his first mission. he could no longer put new rome above them, above camp half-blood.

jason doesn’t think becoming his father is an option for him, however. his father is prideful and arrogant and his father's likeness, he will eventually learn, belongs only to his prodigal sister.

and so, jason grace finds his last name, a family he never knew, friends he could die for and an empty cabin that seemed less lonely with leo or piper in it.

then they went on a quest, leo built a ship and they all set sail to stop gaia from rising.

then jason lost leo, then jason lost everything, then jason lost himself and then lost piper-

and, in the middle of winter, leo valdez came crashing down on a metal dragon with eyes like a nuclear explosion and teeth made for tearing meat from bone, or tearing jason’s heart from his chest.

and then jason found himself again in the space between the junction between leo valdez's fourth and fifth ribs.

leo valdez is a lot of things. he’s a son of hephaestus and a complete asshole. he’s the first child of hephaestus to be born with the ability to create and control fire in over 400 years. he’s a 5’4ft guy who wears platformed boots to make himself seem taller. he’s so powerful that he obliterated gaia. he’s a genius. he thinks spraying axe bodyspray on himself is the same as a shower. he overworks himself even when he doesn’t have to. he can fight gods and go toe-to-toe with any big three kid and hold his own. he likes to survive on a diet of mango monster energy and takis. he's obnoxious. he's thoughtful. he makes mean-spirited jokes at other people's expense. he's the best person jason's ever met

he’s-

currently late for their date.

It’s not that jason minds, per se, but leo has a nasty habit of getting so completely lost in his work that he can plan a date for the next day, and jason won’t see him for at least three days. it’s one of the downsides of being the trophy boyfriend of a genius.

jason sighs and rocks back on his heels, eyes darting up to the grey, overcast sky. he can almost hear leo in his head, asking if he could pretty please make it less goddamn cold? and his pout when jason refuses to change the weather for him.

it's not that jason won't. it's just that he can't. it makes aeolus snappy.

sometimes he still does it. manipulates the air currents just enough to warm the air around them and leo smiles, a real one, small and soft. like it wasn't meant to be seen. a secret thing, just for jason.

jason doesn't see leo smile like that often.

it's mid-february in new york and jason is kicking around central park in the grey mid-day light. it's quiet, this part of the park, with barely anyone passing jason as he leans against a tree, wet dew dripping into his unstyled hair. it's cold, but not cold enough for a freeze or snow. just the right amount of cold to turn your hands numb and purple from cold

which. if you've never seen leo 'was raised in texas and has fire powers' valdez in new york snow, jason fully believes you've never lived.

he spends another 30 minutes splitting his time from staring into space and wandering around the meeting spot they've arranged. it's peaceful here. jason can even hear some birds twittering and chirping in the trees above. the cold even stops bothering him. jason likes being alone sometimes.

it reminds him of the lupercal and lupa. long days and nights in the loneliness of the redwood forest. just him and the wolves and the stars.

though now jason has sturdy boots and a wool jacket, so not exactly the same.

he's in the middle of trying to coax a timid sparrow onto the hand, crouched on the balls of his feet when he feels a presence beside him. he goes stiff when he realises and then, like all the tension has been zapped out of him, goes relaxed again.

"that," leo whispers, also crouched beside jason, "is one fat fucking bird"

jason represses a grin, "don't say that. he's probably barely eaten all winter," and leo snorts, moving closer to jason so their shoulders brush. the bird regards leo with some caution but his black, beady eyes seem to acknowledge that jason would keep him safe.

"he looks better fed than me, jace. do you care more about this bird than your own poor boyfriend?" leo says, faux-sadness in his voice, "how cruel, jason grace. how cruel".

jason turns in time to see leo shake his head, black curls wild around his face as they shudder like leaves in the wind. his eyes are dark brown, watching the bird watch leo. a staring contest.

leo says his name like no one else does. like it's a name. like it's good. like it's something familiar and warm. he does not say 'jason' and imagine a great hero or a wolf-boy with no past. he does not say 'grace' like a joke, like grasp for power, like it carries too much weight for his tongue to bare.

he says it like it belongs to jason. he says it like it's important. not too fast, but not too slow.

leo turns his head to find jason staring at him.

"jason" he calls, lips quirking up at the edge, pulling out the 'o' like toffee, "i know i'm pretty irresistible but please, keep your longing stares for the bedroom"

jason shoves up against leo's shoulder, blush bursting across his already red-cold face.

he pushes just slightly too hard and leo goes spilling across the wet grass, yelping in surprise.

"jason!" he yells, looking up at jason half shocked and half in amusement. "what the fuck, dude!"

jason can't help himself.

leo is wearing jason's hoodie, the black one mrs.blofis picked out for jason which leo claimed as his own even before they started dating. his new denim, fur-lined jacket (from the hide of the nemean lion they killed last year) is just slightly too big and he's wearing black jeans. he looks like the college freshman he is. he looks mortal.

he looks human. he has leaves in his hair and his cheeks are flushed from the cold, teeth showing through the toothy smile he's giving and-

it's uncanny, sometimes, how well they can pass for normal. you almost can't tell leo's died and come back to life. you almost can't tell he's more powerful than any living mortal.

almost.

jason falls on top of leo in the wet grass, which causes leo to yelp, again, and knee jason in the stomach.

jason groans "dude, what the hades was that for?" and he rolls of leo, onto the wet grass beside him, arms protectively covering his bruised stomach.

"you fell directly on top of me, you big lug," and leo sits up, picking a leaf out of his curls absentmindedly, "if you haven't noticed, you're like a bean-pole with muscle mass. that shit hurts!"

jason pouts up at leo, who manages to look both unimpressed and fond. he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to jason, who accepts and leo hauls him into a sitting position in front of him

"hi, leo" jason says finally, "you're late"

"i'm not late, loser, you're just a nerd and get places earlier than normal people. its super weird," leo tells him, matter-of-factly, scooting closer to him as they sit on the ground. "you should really get it checked. might be terminal nerdiness. the glasses are just the first sign"

jason raises an eyebrow, curviving over said glasses. "i didn't know it could be terminal. oh well, guess i'll just wither away and die from being punctual. what an injust life i lead. how the sorrows never end"

leo pouts, eyes sparking with enough warmth to keep out the cold for decades to come, "don't be so down about it, I hear being a nerd has perks,"

jason moves closer, so his knees are half-pulled up to his chest and he's balancing his weight on his hand. leo fits perfectly in the bracket of his arms.

"oh? do tell?" he asks, and leo is close enough that jason can see the faint freckles on his cheeks. they're fading from how far away leo has been from the sun, but jason loves them anyways.

"yup," leo says, popping the p and smiling like the cat who got the cream. "do you know that all nerds get super hot and funny and sexy boyfriends? as compensation for being such nerds, of course"

jason pulls back his head a bit, just as leo laces his arms around his shoulders, "really?" and his voice is soft, but the smile won't disappear from his lips, "wow, didn't know that. guess I'm lucky that you're such a huge nerd or-"

leo kisses him like coming home. and in a way it is.

jason has known many homes. he's known the small apartment with his mother that smelt like spilt wine and smoke and mold. he's known the lupercal and the redwood forests around it. he's known the barracks at camp jupiter and the feeling of purpose in his chest. he's known cabin 1 and cabin 9 and bunker 9 and on the back of festus and on the argo. he's known the feeling of reyna laughing as he tells her wild stories and of the fifth cohort raising him on their shields. he's known lying in leo's private room with piper and leo, listening to low music and feeling safe with just them.

but the one person who jason has felt like home since they met was leo. his high ground through the tsunami. his parachute during a plane crash. the one point of home. like the north-star.

jason smiles into the kiss, his free hand tangling itself in the rough fabric of leo's dark blue denim jacket. it's soft and chaste, more a press of warm lips than anything. it's comforting. it's familiar. it's everything he wants.

leo pulls back a bit, just far enough to speak but still close enough that his breath brushes up against jason's cold face. "hi," he says, brushing his nose against his, "missed you, bro".

jason snorts, "i missed you too, leo, how's MIT treating you?"

"like i'm it's bitch is how it's treating me," leo tells him, slumping slightly into jason, forehead against jason's. "can we not talk about college? i think if we talk about college I might start crying and then our date will be ruined"

jason pulls back a bit to look at leo. he does look more tired than usual, eye-bags darker and lips bitten from nervousness. he frowns, using his free hand to cup his face. "are you okay? we can just go back to your dorm if you're too tired-"

"ugh, no way" leo groans, "fuck that. i just wanna spend time with you, okay? i wanna be mushy and all that gay shit. i want bad food and to kiss you again and again and do more than kissing-"

jason rolls his eyes.

"-and then go back to mrs.blofis apartment and watch really bad movies you like for some reason and then i'll go to sleep beside you and it'll be gay and shit"

"gay and shit?"

"gay and shit, you better believe it grace. but first-"

and leo untangles himself from jason and stands up, brushing the dirt from his knees leaving jason frowning on the floor.

he offers out his hand, brown skin calloused from work, long, thin fingers curled slightly as the palm faced upwards.

"c'mon, super, treat your louis lane to some greasy new york food before he decides batman has better pay"

jason is so, so lucky he got leo valdez. that the fates decides to make sure that his destiny crosses leo's. that he convinced leo valdez to let down his walls, to stay, that jason wouldn't leave him like the others, or hurt him or betray him.

that jason was in it for as long as leo wanted him to be. that jason only wanted leo to say his name, wanted to give it to leo because leo's the only one who's mouth jason trusts with it. that jason wanted to give leo his past. wanted to show him and tell him where he got each scar.

he trusts leo with this. he trusts leo's hands to not burn it all to ash. because he knows that if leo wanted to, he could. he could burn jason alive with a thought. turn him to ash and glass with a flick of his hand.

jason has fallen in love with a nuclear bomb, with a supernova of a boy and jason doesn't care if it kills him, because he has spent so long pretending to be what everyone else needed, that now he was going to be who he wanted to be. even if it got him killed. even if it burned him alive.

jason grace has fallen in love with the human version of a forest fire. he should be afraid of it, of leo. he is not. he never will be.

beryl grace fell in love with the sky itself. wanted all the stars in heaven and didn't care what happened to her. as long as she knew she had the stars attention. as long as she knew the sky loved her back.

as long as he knew the fire loved him back.

he takes his hand.