#maybe he realized this picture this empire really IS too small

[ebitenpura]

also ik they retconned the ending of IA where joining with Jadus results in a division entirely controlled by him and a bunch of evil cronies but you can pry the characterization potential of him removing himself from the war and all conflict entirely from my cold dead hands

[tiredtriedfailures]

what are your favorite images/videos of kendrick? i mean obviously he’s always gorgeous but what pictures have you kicking your feet and blushing and twirling your hair ykwim

I WAS JUST LOOKING UP REF PICS WHEN I REMEMBERED I PLANNED TO ANSWER THIS BUT DIDNT IM SORRYYYYYY HERE WE GO

THIGHS. the way the clothes drape over him, this hairstyle, which will be shown more in more pics, and the lighting makes this pic a very good reference. dynamic.

love man-bun kennys man FUCK i miss long hair kenny like a motherfucker. lovely angle of his face, the pose is nice, the subtle bisexual lighting is always welcome, 10/10 no notes

damn i might be obsessed with man-bun kenny more than i knew my whole folder has lotsa these. he looked so good in LOYALTY tho didnt he. the romantic tension of that video really did grew on me with time.

2017 mtv kendrick i have feelings for you. mostly awe and envy but theyre still feelings come on

the layers the Neckerchief the braids he looks like the genius archeologist traveling to ancient ruins to solve a world ending problem in a movie

WOAH THIS IS ONE OF THE RARE ONES. SMALL BUN WITH SOME OF THE HAIR LET DOWN. damn does he look extra pretty here or am i just too kenpilled

does he look majestic or am i really too kenpilled. theres such royalty in him in this pic damn

cant lie this one is on here cuz beyonce adds such aura to this holy shit. im not even a beyhiver but this duo, damn. they ruled empires in the past

looks cute, dramatic lighting is nice, chest looks bomb

OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH THIS ONE. the shiny lips the pearls the scarf on the cap the earringgggg. AUGH AUGHHH

LOVE THIS ONE TOO. WHY DONT WE HAVE A PHOTOSHOOT OF THE MR MORALE HAIR WHY WHY WHYYYY

This fit and performance was so fire and IT was the reason i was knee deep in getty images btw. trying to gather all hq kendrick pics i could get my hands on for my Projects. the accessories, the clean suit...call this pic the YAWK YAWK YAWK YAWK the way im down

oh i have a few screenshots from the Jay Rock WOW cuz he was so gorgeous there. this time im not asking for confirmation, not doubting it, GORGEOUS. actually felt grief when i realized the looks from this video are not photographed, nor does he fuckin sit still in the video for a single sec for me to grab some good pics. if you wanna see my favorite kendrick videos just go to that one WOW edit hes. lord

i saved this twice cuz i like it so much. lil pirate. OH also i never mentioned but when hes adjusting his chain in N95 (? im p sure its it, black and white. idk) and he smiles kinda mischeviously, he reminds me of Jack Sparrow. just that 2 second snippet. just in there. its probably the close up beard and the air of playfulness idk

i told you i have more of these. and i still do im gatekeeping them. this one is so drawable tho god im getting the shakes the tingles. i just cant do em justice

this is from one of the silliest kendrick collabs, i talked about it before its Thats Me Right There where hes begging to hit like the worlds thirstiest man to a girl who sings all song about how ride or die she is to her guy. tragic, hilarious, i just paused IMMEDIATELY when this shot passed because of how beautiful his lips good. look. i mean how good they look. maybe i gotta go to sleep lamo am i yapping too much?

LMAO just WHAT are you wearing my guyyyy. the face and head are clear and the angle is interesting but what is that ATROCITY hes wearing lmaoooo. why did i save this. probably cuz of the expression, somewhere between a smile and curious look idk

okay okay thats all, i yapped long and hard, gave away most of my best pics. oh hey btw i hope tumblr doesnt mess with the quality cuz theyre all nice professional pics, from getty as mentioned lmao. sad we dont have the pics im constantly whining about, interesting clothes and angles, all sorts of facial expressions, showing off his face showing off his figure. so yeah. these are my faves, lemme know yours! dont gatekeep good pics from me what do you know i might actually draw kenny fanart if im inspired more than im scared

[kymerawrites]

Maffia boss! x Simon Riley

I’m way to creative, needed a small break from sir Simon Riley as I have ALOTT of ideas

I was the daughter of one of the most rich and powerful people in underworld. Too bad I was a daughter and not the son yet my mother couldn’t conceive any children after me my dad was doomed with a woman taking over his business, and I was fucking great at it.

Because of me, his empire expended way beyond Cartagena, Colombia. I got our secret formula in the USA, England, Seychelles South France, Brazil, China, Australia, and many more countries. We also had a lot of allies in politics because of me and the CIA I was booming in this business, and the people I partnered with were all crushing on me, I was the baddest bitch alive right now and everyone knew that. I was on top of the game and I liked to stay that way until I started playing a dangerous game with SAS, agent and member of the task force 141 Simon Riley.

My head was all over money. I only talked in money. I only loved money, and I only wanted money. I was a material girl I love anything that was expensive you could see it on me. I was really expensive looking woman and it made me felt super powerful. But now that I am on top of the game there are always the jealous motherfuckers that want to take you down.

“Do we have any information about this woman price?” All the task force and even general Shepard was in the meeting.

“ this is one of the most dangerous woman on our list right now Shym Medusa. She has one of the biggest maffia leaders in Colombia and has a very secretive formula of drugs that no one can find out and it makes people go to war. We need to take her down as soon as possible because she’s also overruling us.”

 Simon looked at the information “there’s no picture of her..”

Soap also agreed “how do we find a woman if we cannot even see the woman?”

Price sighed “ we also found el sin Nombre who was faceless in their business. This will be easy.”

 Simon looked again at the information on the screen. He was kind of impressed a woman doing after that on her own, and have been one of the strongest leaders in the world right now he wanted to find out who she was, and of course take her down.

He didn’t realize that it might be so easy to take her down, but it was way harder to actually take her down. They infiltrated her in Columbia in a club where they went out as regular guests one of the bars she saw her sitting with a whole team of people that were seen as her ‘family’ were a few of the most skillful, murderers, snipers fighters, and even some agents. She had a strong army with the task force one for one even be powerful enough to take them down?

 I was sitting on my regular table. We had a bunch of cash on the table almost too much to even count. This was my club when I implement my money and my hour into something I own it just like one of the many clubs, banks, and other things that I have taken over until I saw someone with a school mask and a bacalava sitting on across in the club. he was muscular and mysterious something pulled me towards him. He looked deep in the eye. Those eyes spoke something that I couldn’t catch.

I excuse myself from the table and walk towards the bar where I ordered a martini. I lit up a sigaret and looked at the man again, he stared me in the eye

“i’ve never seen you in my club before who are you? are you here to make a deal maybe because I’m talking cash right now.”

 Simon was in shock. This woman was magnificent, beautiful, and she had an aura that said I am that woman. She look confident like she’s bragging about it.

“I’m here for you miss medusa, but I don’t know what my goals are yet, I just wanted to see such a stunning woman like you.” 

“You’re playing a dangerous game doing business with me sir, it’s for the players who really want to play.”

Ghost nodded “I’m aware sugar.”

She looked him in the eye, tilting her head to side something about the way… the way he said Sugar made her impressed something not everyone could do, everyone who approached her, wasn’t that good for her, but somehow she was from this mysterious skeleton mask man.

I sipped my martini “what is your proposal? Do you have any allies or affiliates I need to know about to consider doing business with you?” 

Simon instantly fell questions. How would he play this off? She was maybe one of the most stunning person he’s ever seen, he gave her the thrills no one else could in a woman, he dated a few but they were all so mediocre, he saw something in her that stood out.

“ if you join me tonight there’s no going back, from now you’re my partner and you cannot leave so I suggest you think really good about the choice you’re going to make next.”

this was a big sacrifice, but it was needed for his team. The only word he said “I’m down to do business.”

“Very well..what is your name?”

“Call me ghost.”

LMK IF YOU WANT A PART 2 bc I know I can write this GREAT

[neersivu]

Beyond Time

So, I had this AU idea. The picture attached describes visually what happened in this story:

Steven left Beach City after his meltdown and the years went by. He started healing his inner self, and even if it wasn't a linear process, he kept getting better. Connie finished college, and they started living together in Empire City. They got married at 26, and life was full of joy. The Gems, Greg, and other friends like Lars and the Off Colors visited them regularly.

Steven had his 30th birthday, and things were going well, but as the years kept going, they started to realize that Steven wasn't aging anymore. It was like when he was younger again. Despite the efforts, he couldn't keep the aging pace with Connie or his other human friends. It was a total mystery; neither the Gems nor the Diamonds knew what the cause was. But times were still good, so even if they were worried, it wasn't a real problem, because the only thing is that he looked a little younger than his other acquaintances, right? That was what he thought the first couple of years.

5, 10, 15, 20, 25....30 years went by, and by the time Connie was almost 60 the difference was notorious. Lars and the rest of the Gems still looked the same. Greg was almost 80.

Even if they couldn't do as many things as they did when they were younger, Greg, Connie, and Steven still had fun. They played cards now and then, baked cookies, and reunited all together every Christmas in the Barn with Lapis, Peridot, and Bismuth.

One day, at the age of 95, Greg passed away. Before the moment, he had given Steven clear instructions of not bringing him back with his tears: he was happy with the life he had and wished nothing else but rest, and who knows? Maybe he would meet his deceased beloved in realms who are still not known by neither humans nor gems.

Years kept going, and Connie's time came. Steven and her were peacefully dozing off in the bed of the house they purchased in Beach City after Greg passed away. It was after the Christmas party in the Barn. By the surprisingly old age of 98, after spending almost 85 wonderful years together with Steven, she died. She just didn't wake up. As per her previous instructions, Steven wasn't allowed to bring her back. They had discussed it after Greg's death. She had a wonderful life and wanted to preserve the memories of those years just as they were.

The Gems were there for Steven in these rough times, but he just wasn't feeling good by being there without his loved ones. He felt too much grief. So he decided to accompany Lars in his adventures with the Off Colors. He left the earth with his friend Lars, who only looked a couple of years older.

They had a great time in space; they met new creatures and visited other planets and galaxies. They were so long outside that they even managed to go to the place where the Diamonds were created.

After 500 years of being traveling in space, Lars suddenly started to decay. Lion passed away 200 years ago, so they all knew this moment would come sooner or later. Lars started to feel tired, so they stopped in Homeworld to rest. Lars died in the night in a cozy bed surrounded by his Off Color friends and Steven, who cried his death, but his tears were no longer enough magic to bring Lars back again. It simply wasn't enough fuel to make him alive again. Steven could only bring Lars or any other back from the dead once, and when the power ran out, that was it. There was nothing else to do.

Steven was full of sadness. He decided to keep traveling by himself. He took a small fast ship and went into space again. The Off Colors stayed in Homeworld. After a time of being here and there, he just couldn't find sense in being alone in space anymore. He had visited Earth and the Gems a couple of times, but he didn't really want to be there, not with the empty spots of everyone he once knew.

So, once again, he went to Homeworld and decided to take his rightful place as Pink Diamond, one of the four rulers of the galaxy. Together with the Diamonds, they managed the universe.

Nonetheless, even if he was really busy with his Diamond duties, he sometimes felt sadness and remembered with nostalgia the good old times. Those sad days, he would take his new personal ship and travel to Pink Diamond's former garden. From there, he could contemplate the Milky Way and the things that had been, as if it had all been a beautiful dream. Now that everything has changed and he has become royalty, what would the future yield for him? There were many things he would think there watching the dark sky, while he knew deep down that he would be stagnant in the age of 30 years forever, condemned to watch friends die.

He sometimes wanted to go and be friends only with the Gems and no humans, to avoid this suffering again, but it just was too much for him. He didn't want old memories back. So Steven just used to stay in the Garden until duty called, and he returned to Homeworld again...

Notes: I just like Steven in fancy feminine clothes okay? He is still a powerful Diamond and ruler of the Galaxy. He has embraced this stage of his life and wears something that makes him feel as such. Also, those pants and clothes are fresh and comfortable. :)

I also drew a little star bracelet. It represents that even if he wants to forget the pain, the memories will always be a part of his life, and he doesn't truly want to let them go away.

It is made in a big format with lots of pixels or that stuff, so maybe you can't watch everything clearly without having a tablet or something. Click on the picture to see the details! Or else, check some of them down here :]

Bracelet:

[thewriterowl]

Hello, Ms. Owl. I've never really done one of these asks before, so I hope I'm doing it right.

Anyways I was wondering, how would blooms Anakin, and blooms Din celebrate blooms Luke's birthday?

I think it'll be interesting if they somehow forgot, and then realize near the end of the day that it's his birthday. They would probably find out that it's Luke's birthday from Leia. Knowing her she would probably call asking to talk to Luke to wish him a happy birthday, and Anakin and Din would just freeze and have an "Oh Shit" moment, and rush back home just to find that Luke isn't there, so they panic and start looking all over for him, just to finally find him in a field of flowers cuddling Sky with a small cake softly singing happy birthday to himself.

What would they do? And how would they make it up to him? I can already see the nasty look Omera, Rex, and Kix would give them. And the disappointed look from Grogu, who knows that his Lu is just so sad.

(I don't actually see this happening, since I know that they wouldn't forget Luke's birthday, but I'm just asking for fun)

There is no wrong to do asks! You are free to pop in whenever you would like to say whatever! I always want people who jump in my ask-box to feel comfortable (even if/when I take forever to respond)

But omg, Blooms Birthday!

Ok, so first off...Luke would have no idea when his birthday is. Anakin would be able to tell him. It's just a weird bittersweet thing as it was also the day the Empire took over and when Anakin lost everyone he loved and the start of Luke's long life of suffering. So I think, Din and Anakin would have two birthdays for Luke. There would be his real one, that they would celebrate privately because there was something sad about it as well. It felt like something more intimate, with soft words, maybe sharing stories about Padme, or the time during the Clone Wars, things like that. There are still gifts, but just a few as i think this day would be really overwhelming to Luke because it is so much emotion and memories. It would be things like Padme's dress, a kyber crystal, Jedi texts, pictures, or a stuffed animal...very personal and gentle things.

Then they would have a "Gotcha Day". They'd try to decide if it was when Luke landed on Mandalore or when they rescued him and everything became official--both still have some bitterness to them but they wanted to take it over as a happy day. It was settled for when Luke landed on Mandalore because, even though there was still a lot of pain after the fact, it was the start of good things for Luke.

And let me tell you...it's a system holiday. Anything associated with Mandalore is celebrating this day. No, not day, a week. It's a week that starts with Luke's Birthday and goes into Luke's and Din's anniversary.

Luke is given SO much he has no idea what to do with it. He gets overwhelmed and scared and shy with all the attention. Din and Anakin guide him along and are so happy and proud to make things as big as possible for Luke who deserves everything.

But if they somehow forgot? like the first time for his real birthday and Luke was aware...well...everything above would start happening immediately. They would wrap him up in hugs and kisses and apologize and tell him to always smack them if they do something like this.

Anakin is honest in that he never forgot that day...but he is still so used to it being a day of mourning and having Luke alive to celebrate it is just so new to him, and so amazing, that it's almost too much and he thinks it's just another sad day. Din is just kissing over him without stopping.

They communicate and all is forgiven...and then Luke is spoiled senseless and it's like "uh...maybe i preferred the small one with Sky"

[drewoclock]

Roller Skates Turned Into Silverware

Originally published April 12th, 2015

It had everything a kid could get excited about: A roller skating rink, an arcade, prizes, contests, a big jungle gym, multiple ball pits, hit songs blaring overhead.  And one day my parents read something in the newspaper saying that the owner of that place was closing it.  And instead, he was going to move somewhere else and open up a restaurant.  That was somewhat of a shock.  I initially pictured the restaurant being exactly like the last place, but they also served you pizza.  Turns out I was wrong; it was going to be a fancy adult restaurant.  Which meant there probably wouldn’t be any ball pits.

I was bummed that one of my favorite places was disappearing, but I wasn’t even able to focus on being upset.  I was too intrigued by this owner.  I couldn’t believe that somebody could want two totally different things.  I just assumed people had one ultimate dream that they spent their whole life going after, and yet, this guy crafted a one-of-a-kind empire to stimulating the imagination and thrill of small children everywhere and decided that he also wanted to make a restaurant for adults that like to be fancy.

The world stopped being a place where people just had one dream; where they were either living it or had to settle for something else, and I would want to go up to that plumber and say “If you always wanted to be a yo-yo entertainer, you should go do that instead!’ and the plumber would cry and break his plunger in two and pull out from an old dusty box his sacred yo-yo and jump out the window and grab onto a bus that was heading to the world yo-yo competition.  Now, people could have more than one dream.  Somebody could like being a birthday clown AND a porn star.

This really changed things.  It's awesome, but when you have more than one dream, it’s very hard to make time for both dreams.  Sometimes, you have to pick between the two.  And then you have one dream that isn’t being realized anymore.  For a while, I just thought of myself as a drawing/painting guy.  My parents, teachers, and peers all encouraged me to keep up with it, and I did.  But I haven’t painted anything for years now, and you know what?  I miss it.  Sometimes I just want to stop what I’m doing (which may or may not be trasitioning into a bird person to be among my avian friends) and paint.  It’s just not that easy, though.  Birds don’t usually paint.

It doesn’t just affect you, either.  Several creators on YouTube that I love have moved on to do other things.  The lives of those creators are definitely changing, but so is mine.  The type of videos I watch has changed.  The things I’m being inspired by has changed.  The things that I miss seeing?  That’s changed.  Will I ever get to see the last episodes of that web show about telekinetic cats?

With multiple dreams, you see a lot of things that end up getting abandoned for a while, and sometimes forever.  All I want to do is watch these things grow and flourish when they often won’t.  But isn’t that urge a sign?  Having that urge means that something’s there.  That somebody managed to put something out there for a while.  And isn’t it cool, that I can have this urge in the first place?

Who knows where that roller skating owner is now.  Maybe he’s making just the best salads.  He owns the finest salad hut in Fancy Town.  And right now, he’s thinking “It’s been a real wild ride galavanting with all this lettuce, but it’s about time I moved onto my true calling: saving people from quicksand.  I’ve just always wanted to wait around quicksand in case some traveler falls into it, and then I’d rescue the traveler with my quicksand savior skills.”  And maybe when the restaurant closes, some customer will go “What buttshit!  I loved his salads and now I can’t have his salads anymore!”  And I’m right next to him, and I go “Yeah, and I wanna cool place to roller skate again!”  And there’s another guy that says “I can’t believe he stopped saving people from quicksand to go build a giant balloon castle in the sky!” but that guy isn’t able to say that because he’s in quicksand.

What a load of things to cause, huh?

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 8

A/N: hello i have returned!! this chapter was weirdly difficult for me to write, but from here on out i think the writing will go much smoother! but unfortunately i do have classes to be worrying about soon, so who knows how much time i will have to write. but still!! very excited about this fic and how you guys will react to upcoming events >:) (plus i added some implied nature wives (katherine and shelby) to this bit so this fic is basically turning into me making empires smp gayer) also check out this stunning art of chapter 5 by @artanogon! and if you wanna make art of this fic, you absolutely can, just be sure to tag me so i can see it!

Warnings: depression of the heartbreak variety, past violence

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

Jimmy was trying his hardest to not be mopey as he helped Katherine with rebuilding. He knew that he had promised that he would help her- but his own confusing feelings about Scott, his lack of building know-how, and the dejected look Katherine had as she looked at the slight crater where her castle used to be had Jimmy feeling far out of his league. But he put on a brave face- he needed the distraction, after all.

They began with filling in the crater, mostly silent as they moved dirt over with their shovels. Then once the ground was level, they could begin with setting up the framework of the castle. They spoke more to each other then- but it was mostly Katherine telling Jimmy where to put the support beams. Jimmy wanted to say something, anything to break the tension and melancholy air- but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Katherine that didn’t lead back to the tragedies they had experienced. Jimmy wished that Joel or Lizzie were there- but they were off gathering more materials for Katherine’s castle, and probably wouldn’t return until nightfall. So until then, it was just Jimmy and Katherine, silently stewing in their respective sadnesses.

Luckily- or maybe unluckily- someone much more chipper than either of them came along. Jimmy almost didn’t recognize her at first- but quickly realized that the figure approaching them was the mushroom gnome queen, Shrub. Or Shelby-she had said they could call her that too. She was dressed far more casually than she had been at the ball, a polka-dotted red kerchief tied over her head, brown overalls over a green shirt, and red boots with white polka dots. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and Jimmy could see the tops of mushrooms peeking out of it.

“Um- hello! I- I wanted to offer some gifts from the Undergrove, maybe they could help with rebuilding! Or they could just look pretty- or just be a peace offering- or a gift of sympathy for what happened,” Shelby rambled, seeming just as skittish as she had at the ball, but was less afraid and more excited. Katherine set down the beam she was holding, and gave Shelby a small smile.

“The gift is much appreciated, thank you. It was nice of you to stop by- I apologize for the appearance of the Overgrown. Usually it’s prettier here,” Katherine said, looking over her lands for a brief moment before focusing back on Shelby.

“Oh! Well, what I saw of it at the ball, your empire is lovely! I’m sure it will be back to its former glory soon… if you’d like, I can help! I’m good with plants and I’m not a bad builder!” Shelby offered with an encouraging smile. Katherine practically glowed at the praise of her empire, and smiled back.

“I’d love to have your help- it’s just been me and Jimmy working all day, and most of our time was spent filling in the crater. Some extra hands would definitely help things go faster,” Katherine replied, gesturing at the land around her. Shelby beamed back at her, setting down her bag of mushrooms.

“Then I’m more than happy to help! We gnomes are small but mighty, just tell me where to lug these beams around and I’ll do it!” she chirped. Katherine blinked in slight surprise at her eagerness, but looked over to the stack of beams beside them.

“Well, there is one that needs to go across those two over here for the entrance. If you’re as strong as you say, then maybe you can help Jimmy with getting it up there- I’ll set some scaffolding up so you guys can reach it,” Katherine explained, going over to where two beams were upright and doing just that. Jimmy watched her set up the scaffolding for a moment, until he felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned and looked down to Shelby, who quickly looked away once she realized she had been caught staring.

“Is everything okay? You seem jumpy,” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Shelby chuckled nervously.

“Oh. Well- you see, gnomes can’t swim. And I’m kind of afraid of the water and water related things because of it. But you and the ocean lady seem like really nice people! So… sorry for being jumpy. It’s a habit,” she admitted sheepishly. Jimmy let out a good-natured laugh.

“I mean you’re right to be spooked by Lizzie, she can be scary when she wants to be- but most of the time she’s very nice! And trust me, there is not a single threatening thing about me,” Jimmy said, tone turning a bit rueful at the end of his statement. Shelby frowned.

“The guy with the goggles and his friend sure seemed to think otherwise, why else would they bother you like that?” she asked. Jimmy blinked in surprise at that.

“You… you think Fwhip and Sausage are afraid of me?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well… not afraid, but definitely threatened. I’ve seen it before, back where I came from. You’re someone who won’t bow to people easily, and people like them don’t like that,” Shelby explained with a shrug. Jimmy considered this for a moment.

“Huh. I guess… I never saw it like that before,” Jimmy said, a small smile coming to his face.

Their conversation was ended by Katherine waving them over, and Jimmy and Shelby picked up one of the beams to carry over to where the scaffolding had been set up. Shelby was surprisingly strong for her stature, and carrying around the beams and placing them where they needed to be was much easier than before she had arrived. It was less quiet with Shelby around too, as she cheerfully asked questions about their empires, as well as sharing some things about her own empire. But then there was one question that caused Jimmy’s blood to freeze in his veins.

“So you said that Joel and Lizzie were getting more building materials, but what about your partner? Is he with them too?” Shelby asked, and for a moment, Jimmy was confused.

“My… what?” he asked.

“The elf guy you were dancing with at the ball! You’re very cute together, by the way,” Shelby continued, completely oblivious to the tension in the air her statement created. However she soon noticed Jimmy’s pained expression, and it was her curious smile changed to a concerned frown.

“We uh. We were never together. And he betrayed us,” Jimmy said stiffly.

“Oh- oh I’m so sorry. You guys had just looked so happy together, I had just assumed- I’m sorry,” Shelby rambled, and Jimmy gave her a weak smile.

“It’s alright. I guess I was kinda happy- but it was never real. Not for him, at least,” Jimmy replied, throat feeling tight. He hadn’t really meant to burden all of his issues onto Shelby, but his mouth was moving a little faster than his brain was at the moment, and he couldn’t hold back his words.

“Well- well then that guy is missing out! You seem great, and he gave you up for what, tactical gain or political advantage or something?! He doesn’t deserve you!” Shelby declared, hands on her hips as she smiled up at Jimmy confidently. If someone he barely knew had so much confidence in him, then why shouldn’t he? Jimmy smiled back at Shelby.

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. Shelby gave him a half laugh, half playful scoff.

“Of course I’m right! Now c’mon, this castle isn’t gonna rebuild itself!” she chirped, heading over to the stack of beams. Jimmy could only stare after her for a moment, dumbfounded. Katherine seemed just as amazed by the gnome’s boundless positivity, a smile growing across her face.

“She’s spirited,” Katherine murmured. Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, you two are like birds of a feather,” Jimmy murmured back.

"We both are definitely nature-oriented," Katherine added with a chuckle. She looked at Shelby fondly for a moment, until her expression turned into a frown as she noticed something in the sky. Subconsciously her hand started reaching for Jimmy’s, and he took it as he looked up to the sky with her. Two figures were flying in- and the tension in Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly when he recognized them as Pearl and Gem. But he still gave Katherine’s hand a gentle squeeze all the same.

“What’s going on? Are we under attack again?!” Shelby asked anxiously, coming over to stand beside them and look up at Pearl and Gem flying in.

“Don’t know yet- they weren’t directly behind the explosion… but they are allied with the people who were,” Katherine said apprehensively. Shelby looked down from the sky, frowning in concern- and upon noticing Jimmy and Katherine’s joined hands, she grabbed Katherine’s other hand with a comforting smile. Katherine flushed slightly, but smiled back at Shelby gratefully.

“Please don’t be alarmed!” Gem shouted as she came in for a landing. Frankly, that didn’t make Jimmy feel any less alarmed.

“We aren’t allied with Fwhip and Sausage anymore. We don’t want any part of what they’re up to,” Pearl clarified, landing beside Gem.

“Really?” Jimmy asked warily. Gem looked to Jimmy with an open, pleading expression.

“I meant what I said when we told you that we didn’t know what Fwhip was up to. He left myself and Pearl completely in the dark, while Sausage and Scott were the only ones who knew about the full plan. But even then, I don’t think those two had the full picture, they looked surprised that we hadn’t known about the TNT. The point is- Pearl and I were tired of being part of an alliance that lied to us, and lied to us to hurt others! Katherine- if I had known what was going to happen, I would have never gone along with it and would have tried to put a stop to it,” Gem explained, turning her focus to Katherine as she spoke.

“So… you two are… on our side then?” Katherine asked slowly. Pearl gave her a gentle smile.

“If you’ll have us, yes. We also figured you could use our help rebuilding,” Pearl replied. Katherine looked to Jimmy, as if she was asking for his opinion. Jimmy blinked, and looked at Pearl and Gem. They seemed… candid, at least. But after Scott… Jimmy wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore besides his steady allies. However, they weren’t Scott. And furthermore, it really wasn’t his call to make. It was Katherine’s.

“It’s your empire, Katherine. If you don’t want them here, then just say the word. But you won’t get a fight from me if you do want them to help,” Jimmy said gently. Katherine smiled, and looked back to Pearl and Gem.

“I would absolutely appreciate your help. We’ve almost got all the framework for the castle set up- but having someone with wings help us out with some of the taller parts would be lovely,” Katherine said. Pearl beamed, and Gem clapped her hands excitedly. Gem came closer and Katherine let go of Shelby and Jimmy’s hands to talk over building plans with Gem, Shelby following after her and listening as well. Pearl, however, walked over to Jimmy with a mildly timid expression.

“Pearl?” Jimmy asked.

“There’s something I think you should know,” she blurted. Jimmy blinked in surprise, tilting his head to one side in confusion.

“I… okay,” Jimmy said semi-apprehensively. Pearl took a deep breath, like she was unsure of how to continue.

“Gem and I just came from a meeting with the Wither Rose Alliance. Well… it wasn’t much of a meeting, Gem and I broke off ties with the alliance pretty quickly and then left. But… there’s a… there’s something about Scott,” Pearl explained slowly. Jimmy tensed, swallowing nervously.

“Oh?” Jimmy asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Like I said, Gem and I didn’t stay long so I don’t know for sure- but there was something off about Scott. He just… didn’t seem himself. I think he was just as unhappy with Fwhip as we were with him. I… I just know he meant a lot to you. And I think you meant a lot to him too. I just… I don’t want to get your hopes up, but maybe… maybe you should give him a chance,” Pearl continued. Jimmy’s mouth fixed into a firm line.

“It’s a nice thought… but I don’t think I can trust him anymore. Not after everything that happened,” Jimmy said, throat tight as he tried not to cry. Part of him really wanted to hope that maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding, that Scott really did care about him- but Jimmy couldn’t afford that kind of hope. Pearl nodded in understanding.

“That’s fair. Like I said… just thought you should know,” she said, before walking over to join Katherine in her discussion for the build. Then Jimmy- only feeling ever so slightly useless now that Katherine had so much more help- swallowed the tears that thinking about Scott caused, and joined them.

-

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[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.

“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”

“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”

“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”

Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”

Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”

“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.

“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”

“Tch! No, I haven’t!”

“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”

“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”

Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”

“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”

Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”

“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”

“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”

“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.

“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”

“Who?”

“The bartender from the party.”

Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”

“Maybe.”

Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”

“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”

“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”

Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”

Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”

Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”

“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”

“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”

“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”

“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.

According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.

“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.

“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”

“Tch… still pisses me off he even tried.”

“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.

“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”

“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”

“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”

“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”

“Just keep an eye on it.”

“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”

“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”

Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”

Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”

“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”

“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.

Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.

Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.

It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.

Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’

“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.

“Nope. Back to the office.”

He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’

The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!

In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.

“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”

“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”

Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.

“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.

“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”

“Take a guess,” he sneered back.

“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”

“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”

“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”

“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.

Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”

“Is that a threat?!”

“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”

“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.

“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”

“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”

Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”

“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”

“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”

“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”

Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.

Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.

Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”

“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”

“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.

Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”

Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.

“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.

“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.

“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”

[blkgojo]

Game On | Chapter 1

Valkyrie x Reader x Carol Danvers

In which, drunk!you thinks sending nudes to the King of Asgard and the most powerful Avenger... is a good idea.

Warnings: None

Here's the thing. Sending Valkyrie your nudes was an accident. Legally speaking, the nudes were meant for Carol. If you wanted to get even more technical, you weren't even supposed to text either one of them unless there was an emergency. You hadn't realized it at first. You curled up next to your cat, practically smug with your boldness. What better way to show you're available, you thought. You had checked your phone again to revel in it only to see the photo had not only been sent to Carol. It was there, right under Valkyrie's name. Wish you were here x.

You were well and truly fucked.

Working as a S.W.O.R.D agent meant few privileges. One of those privileges you had abused. Greatly. You had sent lewd photos to not only an Avenger, but the King of Asgard. Strong 10000 year old alcohol be damned, Fury wouldn't accept that as an excuse.

"You gonna tell me what's up or we just gonna sit here?" Darcy asked. Your roommate munched absentmindedly on a piece of chocolate. She was blessed enough to not have drank the ale. The buzz of it still causing your world to sway even as you began to sober up.

"I sent nudes to someone,” you whined.

She smiled. Patted your thigh. “That's okay, Y/N. We all send nudes sometimes."

“No you don’t get it. I sent them to the Asgardian king.”

“Thor has a phone?”

“No. Valkyrie.”

You can see she's trying her best not to laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“You’re gonna start an intergalactic war.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fury’s gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t tell him!” Your words dissolved into drunken hiccups. You sloppily tried to take another sip of the ale, but Darcy snatched it. You frowned. “Do you… do you think she read it?”

“She doesn’t have read receipts? An IPhone?”

“No, I think she has an Android.”

Darcy  quietly tittered, mulling the information over. “Who did you even mean to send nudes to?”

"Don't freak out.”

“Y/N.”

“Say you won’t freak out.”

“Just tell me!”

“Darcy!”

“Spit it out!”

“Captain Marvel,” you hesitantly answered. 

Darcy shrugged. “Well, at least you didn’t send it to her, too.”

“No I did.”

One.

Two.

She laughed. "I'm sorry," she said between breathes. "I'm sorry. This is just... you're fucked."

To her credit, she tried to stop laughing. It doesn't work, but she tried. A few minutes past before she finally can speak again - tears having long since stained her face. She wiped them and took a deep breathe.

"You could just text them something like, 'Oh my god. I'm so sorry. This wasn't meant for you," she offered.

"I could." You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."

You picked up your phone, ready to send another message. In your hands, it vibrated.

​---

Carol hated texting. Sometimes, she thought maybe that was why her and Thor were so close. She was traveling the galaxy. He was traveling the galaxy. She hated texting. He didn’t have a phone. She preferred communication the old fashion way like through hologram or sheer word of mouth.

She checked her phone as soon as she received the message and now it was waiting on the countertop of the bar face down.

“If someone sent me a picture, I would’ve been all over that,” Rocket burped.

“That’s not what she needs to hear right now, Rocket,” Thor turned to her. “So what are we doing here? Are you going to respond or…”

“I responded,” she said. And she had.

She said word for word, ‘Oh is this an emergency?’

You had sent the photos when she was on some off time with Thor. They all had just gotten back from a mission liberating refugees from a wannabe empire. She had been ready to dash back to Earth when she saw your name light up her phone screen. When she opened the message… completely different story.

Thor scrunched up his nose and shrugged.

“What?” asked Carol.

“If I sent promiscuous photos to a potential love interest, I would want a bit more…” He gestured to the air.

Carol scrunched her brows. “You would want what?”

“I don’t know. Romance?”

Rocket slammed his beer on the table. “Send them a tongue emoji.”

“I don’t like texting. Why couldn’t they just,” she threw up her hands. “I don’t know. Send a hologram.”

“Look. Forget everything else. Do you wanna get laid or not?” demanded Rocket.

Carol cocked her head to the side and begrudgingly nodded. “Then stop dicking around. It’s annoying. Some of us haven’t got laid in years and you’re over here squandering your opportunities.”

“So what? I travel a billion light years away for sex?”

Before Thor can interject, Rocket growled. “You can breathe in space. Going to Earth for you is like me or Thor here going to the bathroom.”

Carol sighed. “The raccoon has a point.”

“Fuck you.”

----

“C’mon Valkyrie. Just once.”

“I will not play Fortnite with you.”

Korg frowned or she assumed he did. It was always hard to tell. “But-”

“No.”

Her phone had long since vibrated in her pocket. A fact that she had chosen to ignore. The Midgardians seemed to always have issues. Even on Sundays which were supposed to be her self-care days. She picked it up, ready to see some frantic message about one crisis or another. The sky is falling. Nuclear weapons. Blah blah blah.

“Oh.” She nearly dropped it.

“What is it?” Korg peered over her shoulder. “It seems like someone sent you a gift.”

There were two photos with the caption ‘wish you were here x’. It was simple enough. Valkyrie tried to remember the last conversation she had with you. Had you been flirting? It was last Tuesday when she had been discussing global affairs with the other world leaders. You had been there, but in between all of the political nonsense, it was hard to figure it all out.

Korg was still peering over her shoulder. Valkyrie quirked her brow at him.

“Sorry.” He went back to his game. “Are you going to respond to Y/N? I like them. Gave me some good rocks once.”

“Rocks?”

“Yeah, I think they thought I eat them. Not their fault. My mum’s boyfriend used to think the same thing. I use them to decorate me flower garden, though.”

Valkyrie nodded and took a sip of her beer. “Should I respond?”

“You should do what your heart tells you.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been watching a lot of them Disney movies. Have you seen the one with the girl on the islands?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“It’s good. She sings.”

Valkyrie took another swig of her beer, typing out a response to your photos.

‘This is way better than what I was expecting.’ And waited.

----

"She's annoying."

"I mean, she is right."

"Seriously?"

"What?" Darcy hesitantly took a sip of Thor's alcohol. "I think it's a valid question. Is it an emergency?"

"It is," you half-questioned.

"Is it?"

"It is," you said with more force.

"Then, say that," Darcy took another sip. "This shit really hits you. I get why..." She burped.

Right after you hit send, another message came through. Valkyrie.

"Well," you begin. "Valkyrie appreciated it."

"Of course she did." When you stared at her, Darcy shrugged. "She seems like really chill. Stared at your ass in one of our meetings."

"She did? When?"

"I don't know. It was like, so far ago."

"She said it was way better than what she was expecting."

"So, she wants you."

"Yeah," you said slowly. The King of Asgard wanted you. Wanted more of you. You reread the message. "I'm gonna flirt back."

Darcy nodded, taking another small sip of the ale.

I guess I should've done this sooner, you texted back.

Her response was immediate.  We’ll have to make up for lost time.

"Valkyrie's so hot," you whispered.

Just then, Carol responded. And what would you like me to do about this emergency?

You walked over to the counter and grabbed the bottle, taking a tiny sip of the alcohol. Just enough to give you a boost of confidence. You spared a glance at your friend. Her alcohol tolerance was higher than yours and yet, her cheeks were already pink. She nodded at the bottle, her eyebrows raised slightly.

"You look ah, flustered."

"You look drunk."

She held one finger up, wobbly walked herself to the couch. "Touche."

There was no reason you couldn't have fun, right? They didn't know that you had texted them both. No one knew save for Darcy and she could keep a secret. You could have fun with this. They both wanted you - honestly, you should take advantage of this opportunity. What was that phrase people loved saying? Live life or whatever the fuck.

"Yeah," Darcy cheered.

You hadn't realized you'd been talking out loud.

To Valkyrie, you send: When can we get started?

You took a deep breathe before texting Carol. Your fingers hovered over the send button for minutes longer than necessary.

I'd like you to fuck me, you sent back.

Game on.

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.6)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,503 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Notes: I really like writing scenes of them working because... it’s hot. So, part of this is me indulging myself.

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The crack of Steve’s fist against the man’s jaw reverberated through the room. It left the man unable to speak, his jaw broken. He laid on the ground, whimpering as the blood from him biting his tongue on impact seeped from his mouth.

Adrian stared down at the ground at the man. “Well, that was unhelpful if you wanted him to talk anymore,” he drawled, meeting Tony’s eyes calmly. Despite having been kidnapped and now being cornered in a room with Tony and Steve, their men outside, he was too calm. Much to Tony’s annoyance; he wanted him rattled.

“I don’t want to hear from him. I want to hear from you,” Tony said, flashing him a sarcastic grin. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms.

“Careful. You might crease that expensive suit,” Adrian sneered.

“Don’t worry. I have two more of the same at home. It’s not that big of a deal. Plus, I don’t do my own laundry, so… even less of a deal for me,” Tony quipped. “So, Adrian. Who gassed you up and made you get buck?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the shit,” Steve said, danger in his tone. “You know exactly what we are talking about. Sure, we got the kid to squeal but,” he stepped closer, his arms crossed across his chest. Adrian stared up at Steve, only a flash of concern in his eyes as Steve towered over him. He leaned close and hissed, “I want to hear it from your mouth. And it’ll go better for you if you just do as I ask.”

Adrian spat in Steve’s face.

Steve stepped back, giving himself room to gear up and plant a swift kick to Adrian’s chest, sending the chair flying back. Adrian cried out as his face made impact with the cement.

“You son of a bitch!” Steve snarled, wiping at his face.

“Hmm, that was a poor choice,” Tony mused. Adrian stared up at him from the ground, wincing in pain. “Hopefully Steve here didn’t break a rib. Not that I would feel bad if he had. I would’ve slit your throat if you spit in my face. So, you’re going to stay down there for now since you got yourself in that position. Let me repeat myself: what made you think you could fuck with us? Try to screw with our operation? Hmm?”

Adrian shot Tony a defiant look and Tony sighed, knowing what was coming. “I think there are a great many others that would come gunning for you, Stark. Maybe think about that.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony yelled over his shoulder, “We’ve got a problem!”

The door opened and Wanda walked into the room, her eyes fixed on Adrian lying on the ground. Adrian immediately stiffened, unable to hide the nervousness on his face. Tony smirked.

“Hmm, that got your attention,” Steve said.

Adrian clenched his jaw, trying to mask again but he had already shown he was uncomfortable. They had the upper hand. He stared up at Wanda, his chest rising and falling quickly. He knew what was coming, he knew what she was capable of. Her eyes were already glowing when she leaned down next to him.

Writhing, still confined, Adrian’s eyes were lost, staring at nothing. Tony relaxed back in the chair, checking his watch. Steve paced on the side of the room, watching Wanda work. She smiled wickedly before Adrian gave a violent thrash, his head making contact with the floor.

“Alright, that should be enough, right?” Steve said to Wanda’s back.

She responded, standing up, before withdrawing her power. Tony was ready, kneeling down beside Adrian. Tony grasped Adrian’s jaw as his vision cleared. He observed the tears coming from the corners of Adrian’s eyes as he gasped for air, clearly spiraling into a panic.

“You work for us now, got that? I’m tired of small fish thinking they can swim upstream. You fucked up, Adrian. You could have kept your shitty little trade and made ends meet – hell, you did more than that. I saw you got yourself a nice house for you and your hot little fiancé. You’re lucky I don’t stop by and give her a visit.” He shook his head. “You just had to go and try to steal from us. All you did was piss me the fuck off and get yourself some cops to tail you.”

He let go of Adrian roughly who was sniffling, looking broken.

“Hope it was worth it, you jackoff,” Tony muttered, fixing the cuffs on his jacket.

<> <> <>

Walking into the garage, you eyed the car. You had swiped the key from the dish in the kitchen. Bryce had protested, saying you should wait until Steve got back. You told him if he wanted to tell Steve you were taking the car, be your guest, but you were leaving to get some air. You were gambling because you were afraid if Bryce actually did get a hold of Steve that he would actually tell you that you could not go. Your prayers were answered, and Steve did not answer his phone. Bryce was uneasy and you told him you were perfectly fine driving a car, you had been doing it for years. And if driving around with the windows down was against the rules, well then, you would have that discussion with Steve when he got back. He had not explicitly told you that you could not take the car, and Bryce could not argue that. He insisted on going with you and you insisted right back you needed some time to yourself.

“I’m not gonna kill myself, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you had shot at him before walking out of the kitchen towards the garage.

This was going to be the first time in practically a month you were leaving the house grounds on your own. Being outside here, you were still surrounded by a fence.

The car you were taking was expensive, a charcoal Audi. You had to make sure you did not get a scratch on it. It practically purred when you started it up and you smiled. This was going to be fun. Rolling up to the gate, you reached out, pressing the button. The guard near the gate eyed you suspiciously and you saluted them, sarcastically. It annoyed the shit out of you that they all thought you were so fragile you could not handle going by yourself.

Although, you did plan on going pretty fast, windows down, which would cause concern. And that is what you did, whipping around the winding road out towards where you knew there was a waterfront. You had spent time googling the surrounding area; it might come in handy later.

There was still snow on top of the mountains, even at this time of year. It must look beautiful in winter.

You pulled off on a turn out and turned the car off, getting out. The wind was a reprieve from the heat, not too strong and not too weak. You walked to the guardrail, looking out over the lake below. It was breathtaking.

Thinking of your friends, you took a picture to be able to send them later. Seeing such openness was not a luxury in the city. Maybe if you showed them you were out, they would not worry as much.

You stayed out for quite some time, walking back and forth. The air helped you clear your head, losing yourself in your thoughts. You were not settled in, still contemplating how you could leave. You knew leaving while you were pregnant was not an option. If you went to a hospital, your name would be in the records and that was easily traceable. And if you did not go to a hospital, how would you give birth on your own? You needed to have the baby first. Without seeing the baby yet, you thought it would be easy to leave on your own. It is not like the baby would not be cared for. But you worried that it would end up not being easy because how could you leave an infant? As controlling as Steve was with you, would that extend to his parenting?

Cars drove by every so often, catching your attention. You knew it was probably not the safest being alone out here in a pretty isolated area. You were testing your luck. Plus, Steve would be back sooner rather than later now. You still had a drive ahead of you to go back home.

Home.

The word turned sour when you realized you had thought of Steve’s mansion as your home. It was getting easier to think of it that way and that made you feel a mixture of anger and worry.

The drive back felt like going back to a gilded cage.

Upon pulling in past the gate, you saw up ahead Steve was walking out of the garage, anger etched in his features. He was striding towards the other car where Tony was getting out of.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself before straightening up as you drove. You needed to act as calm as possible. If you did not think this was a big deal, maybe that would cool him off.

Steve said something to Tony and Tony looked past him to the garage. That was the moment Steve heard your car, his eyes snapping to meet your gaze as you pulled up, Tony following his gaze. You gave them a small smile, pressing the garage key on your visor, before whipping the car around to start backing it into the garage.

When you turned the car off, Steve was already standing by, glowering. Tony was still standing by his car outside the garage, trying to not pay attention to the scene. He had gotten his phone out, scrolling through, his head turned downward.

He reached out, opening the door before you could do it yourself, throwing it open. “Where the hell did you go?” Steve demanded.

Feigning surprise at his anger, you said as you got out with the minimal space Steve was leaving for you to do so, “Um, I went for a drive. Up by the lake. There’s a pull out overlooking it.”

“You didn’t ask me.”

“I didn’t know I had to.”

Steve warned, his voice strained, “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You know damn well I don’t want you going out by yourself. Especially up to an isolated place like that. Anything could happen to you.”

“Nothing happened but fine. Noted,” you said, defeated. You made to walk past him, but he lashed out, his fingers closing in around your arm.

“Ask me, Y/N. Understand?”

“Well, for reference, Bryce tried to call you because that was his first instinct. But you did not answer. And I told him I would talk to you about it when you got back. And that’s exactly what is happening.”

Steve’s grip tightened and you winced. You were not leaving until you satisfied what he said.

“I understand!” you said, resisting the urge to try to tug your arm away from his grip.

He leaned in and told you quietly, “I want to know where you’re going so I know where to look if something goes wrong. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” you said, trying to shy away from his stern stare.

Steve’s fingertips on his free hand came up underneath your chin, tilting your head to keep eye contact. “Don’t squander my trust with you, doll face.”

“I came back,” you returned quietly.

He studied you for a few moments before his hands dropped. “That you did. Regardless, what I said still stands. Don’t make that mistake again, Y/N, or I’ll lock the damn keys up.”

<> <> <>

Your doctor was making small talk as she prepped the transvaginal ultrasound. The position you were in was not unusual, just uncomfortable because you hated pap smears and that is all you could think of.

Steve was sitting next to the bed, holding your hand, caressing it gently. You looked over at him and he gave you a reassuring smile. He made sure he would be able to come; he wanted to come to every appointment with you, especially in the later months. He was more excited than you to come to the appointment, ready for the upcoming appointment when you would be able to tell the sex of the baby. He was in awe doctors were able to be able to tell and he kept a copy of the first ultrasound in his wallet. You caught him looking at it more than once, a smile on his face.

“Alright, ready?” she asked, catching your attention.

You nodded and she stuck the wand up gently. Steve was watching the screen closely, completely engrossed.

“Oh, there they are,” she said happily. Her smile faltered and she made a concerned noise.

“What?” you and Steve asked at the same time. You had a hunch the two of you were worried for different reasons at the sudden change in her demeanor.

“It looks like…” she started to say, trailing off, as she moved the wand slowly.

“What?” Steve demanded again, concern lacing his tone, leaning forward in his chair. His hand was holding yours tighter and you winced but did not pull away.

She pointed at the screen, “There. Look.” You had no idea what you were looking at where she was pointing and neither did Steve because both of you were staring, waiting for an explanation. She grinned back at the two of you, “Looks like there’s a second. You’re having double trouble.”

Reflexively, you collapsed back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Your chest was tight, you could not breathe.

“Hey,” Steve was over you, his eyes flooded with concern for you now. “Y/N.”

“I…” you started to say but could not form the words.

“You need to breathe,” your doctor told you, trying to coax you to do so. “Just count and breathe, Y/N.”

You tried focusing on their voices to calm yourself down. You did not need to freak out in the middle of the doctor’s office for a multitude of reasons. But all you could think of was how there were two, not just one. How could you travel with two babies if you were going to leave? You tried to force the thought from your head and instead focus on your breathing.

It took a few minutes, but you finally closed your eyes, swallowing sharply, feeling the panic subside.

“Two,” you breathed, locking eyes with Steve. He nodded and you did in return. You forced a smile, “Two. That… that’s more than one.”

Steve gave a strangled laugh, caressing the side of your face. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“It’s going to be okay,” you said out loud to yourself.

“It’s more than okay,” Steve told you, smiling happily openly now. He kissed your forehead, lingering for a moment. “It’s wonderful.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

[imagineyourworld]

Hey there! Could I request g. with Luke Skywalker with an inquisitor reader? Congrats on reaching 100, can't wait to read more of your work!

Hi,

Thank you so much <3

That's a really interesting request, I hope I can do it justice.

Love, Charlie

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Luke Skywalker x Genderneutral!Inquisitor!Reader

g. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

Warnings: Slight age difference (just a couple of years, not specified), kinda self-harm, but not really

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You didn't consider yourself anyone special. You were one of many, one of many children orphaned during the end of the Clone Wars or the beginning of the Empire, one of many cadets in the Imperial Academy, one of many singled out on your fifteenth birthday for 'special training'. It wasn't until you turned eighteen and were sent on your first mission, the only one of your squad to ever receive a mission at all, that you realized that maybe there was something special about you, though you only managed to put it in words once none other than Grand Moff Tarkin, the Grand Moff Tarkin, pinned a medal on your chest and congratulated you to your promotion. That's when you realized that you were special, you were one of only a handful of Inquisitors, chosen and trained to rid the galaxy of the few remaining Jedi or those who still had faith in the doomed order, those whose abilities were too dangerous to let them live. You were good at what you did, if not one of the best, and had countless medals to prove it. Maybe that's why your next mission came from very high up, from Darth Vader himself. The day you met the second most powerful man in the galaxy would change your life forever, though whether for better or for worse you would never be able to tell.

-------

Vader had sent you to what had to be the worst planet you have visited so far. Tatooine was nothing but a pile of sand, two burning suns and more criminals and low lives than you cared to count. Though for someone high up in the empire, who received a generous salary, it wasn't too bad. Rent and food were cheaper than other places, so you allowed yourself the rare luxury of renting a small suite in one of the better hotels the planet had to offer. The mission itself was simple, all you had to do was listen to locals and maybe ask a few inconspicuous questions to find out whether there were any Jedi sympathizers left in this corner of the galaxy. That's how you met him, and how your life changed once more. Luke Skywalker quite literally ran into you the first time you visited a place called Tosche station. He was just leaving as you were entering, and since he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and you had no space to move to the side the two of you collided. Luke managed to stay on his feet, but you began to stumble and fall, only to suddenly find yourself in his arms. Wow, that kid has fast reflexes, was the first thing you thought, but once you got a closer look at him you realized that he was no kid, at the most he was a couple of years younger than you, though his out of style clothes and long hair made him appear younger than is actual age. "I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?", he asked, his arms still around you and concern in his eyes. You didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made you stare just a moment longer, and heat rise up to your cheeks. "I'm fine. But I might feel better if you bought me a drink", you replied. Your keen eyes noticed the blush that crept up his face at your words. His reaction, and the overall lack of young people, let alone attractive young people, on this planet made it obvious that he wasn’t used to flirting, which brought out a strange sense of accomplishment and possessiveness in you.  “Just wait here, I’ll get us something to drink and I know a shady place to sit down”, he told you before disappearing in the crowd. 

-------

True to his word Luke reappeared a moment later and lead you to what seemed to be an abandoned farm a short distance away. That’s where the two of you settled and only when the suns began to set did you get back up. You didn’t remember the last time you have had a conversation like this, talking about everything and nothing. In just one short afternoon you learned more about Luke than you knew about most of your fellow cadets back at the academy. He was an orphan, living with his aunt and uncle on their moisture farm and though the two of them were happy with that life, Luke wanted more, he wanted to see the galaxy, a sentiment you could understand more than he knew. Luke was all of the things the people in your life weren’t; open and honest, sweet and funny, warm as the two suns above and quite good looking on top of it. In retrospect you should have known that it wouldn’t take Luke long to find a place in your heart, and your frequent meetings that followed after your first day together certainly didn’t help.  Luke was your first kiss, only a week after you first met him in the Tatooine desert with gleaming stars and a bright moon above.  He was the first one you told about your past, at least a few basics. You told him that you were an orphan, that your parents had been killed during the last few days of the Clone Wars and that you have been on your own since you were a baby. You told him about the loneliness and fears you usually kept bottled up and your unrealistic dreams for the future.  Luke was the first you slept with, back in your hotel suite, after you had treated him to a dinner nicer than any he has had back on the farm. It wasn’t like what your peers had told you sex was like, it was sweet and passionate and lovely.  And even though you tried your best not to, Luke was the first person you ever fell in love with, the first you cared about, other than the memory of parents you didn’t even remember if you were being honest.  Your relationship with Luke was both the only real thing and the biggest lie in your life. He had told you everything about himself, but you had no choice but to keep lying to him again and again, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe that’s why part of you was glad when, after once again reporting that there was nothing unusual on Tatooine, you were told your mission was over and you should report to the Death Star.  When you told Luke that you’d have to leave the next day he kissed you in his unique sweet way and whispered the three words you have come to cherish against your lips.  “In that case I think I should give this to you now. I had been planning to wait til our one year anniversary next month, but I guess that doesn’t matter now”, he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to you. Before you could ask what he was talking about he pulled a small box out of the messenger back he usually carried with him. Gently he opened the box to reveal the most stunning bracelet you have ever seen.  “It was my mother’s, one of the few things I have of hers. I want you to have it.”  You lifted the bracelet out of  its box, admiring how the stones shone in the soft light of the candles around your suite.  “Luke...”, you said, trying your best not to let your voice break. “I cannot accept this.”  You lowered the bracelet to put it back in the box, but before you could Luke took your hand in his and used his other hand to close your finger on top of it.  “I want you to have it, I really do. To remember me by. Besides, the colour really doesn’t suit me.”  You couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to your lips at his bad joke, neither the tears that appeared in your eyes. It really was time for you to leave this planet, to leave Luke, if you didn’t do it soon you feared you never would.  “Thank you. I won’t take this off, I promise”, you vowed as he gently fastened the bracelet around your wrist and then pressed a soft kiss on your pulse point.  “I love you”, he said with a sad smile.  Only then did it occur to you that he had said it multiple times now, almost every day ever since the first time he had said it almost seven months ago, but never once did you say the words back. Maybe it was fitting that the only time you told him how you felt about him was when saying goodbye.  “I love you too, Luke.” 

-------

Soon after your return to the Empire, and your first visit to the infamous Death Star, did you realize why you had been called back so suddenly. The war against the rebels was picking up pace and the Empire could use all the help it could get.  The next year was busy, you were no longer sent on solo missions but rather trained with the elite forces, taught to fly and shoot instead of fighting with your lightsaber, and then it suddenly stopped.  After the Battle of Yavin the Empire had to regroup, rethink its strategies, and fight a new opponent.  “We have information about an old Jedi temple, you will leave tomorrow and destroy it”, Grand Moff Tarkin informed you in his usual clipped way.  This caught your attention, and for the first time in a while your interest. Hunting Jedi, making sure no children strong with the force would ever find out about their existence and take care of them if they did was what you were trained for, what you often thought you were born to do. Suddenly it dawned on you that the last time you had actually been assigned a mission like this was before Tatooine, before Luke.  “Why me? I don’t mean to question your decision, but there are many older, more skilled Inquisitors.”  Tarkin simply nodded. “I agree. But Lord Vader asked for you specifically. You’re to leave for Dagobah tomorrow at 0700.” 

-------

Your short research told you that Dagobah was basically a slimy mudhole, but upon arrival it seemed even worse than in the pictures on the holonet.   “If that temple is inside one of those swamps I’m not even gonna bother, I’ll just set fire to the whole planet”, you mumbled as you climbed out of your TIE fighter, careful not to get your bracelet caught on the ladder. That had happened once during one of your first flying lessons and it had cost you almost a month’s salary to get it repaired, apparently the medal alone was worth more than you made in a year, from the stones you might even be able to buy a small planet.  The second your feet touched the ground you felt something dripping down from the trees onto your arms, which you could only hope was water.  Luckily, after just a few meters, you stumbled upon a path covered with mostly dry branches and pebbles.  “I thought this planet was supposed to be abandoned, but this looks almost like someone made this path on purpose.”  You kept walking along the path, checking your datapad every now and then to make sure you were headed the right way.  After what felt like half an eternity of walking you finally reached a small hut, which your datapad assured you was right next to the temple, though since you couldn’t see anything other than the hut and a million trees you decided to investigate there first, who knew what you may find.  A familiar buzz ran through your entire body, adrenaline and excitement preparing you for what was to come. With a slight smile on your lips you ignited your lightsaber, partially so you’d be ready for what- or whoever would be waiting for you inside, partially because from where you stood in the doorway you could tell that it was incredibly dark and the added benefit of a lightsaber was the soft glow that helped in situations like this.  Inside the hut was larger than it had seemed on the outside, mostly meaning that there was more than just one room. In fact, there was a long hallway with open doors on both sides leading to different rooms. The first couple of rooms you checked, if they could even be called that, were pretty much overtaken by nature and rotting away. There was nothing that spoke of Jedi, or any other intelligent being, having been there in recent years. It wasn’t until you were closing in on the last rooms that you heard a low noise, followed by a gut feeling that told you that what you were looking for would be in that room. Though since you didn’t know what, or who, exactly would be in there you entered the room with your lightsaber stretched out in front of you, hoping the red sword would make any possible threat stand down before they could try anything while you would remain in the shadowy hallway to glance inside.  The plan seemed to work, since you heard a small gasp from inside the room just a moment before you realized who it had come from.  “Luke?”  “(Y/N)?”  Both your voices were astounded, shocked, and mournful. Of all the people in the galaxy, why did it have to be Luke Skywalker you found here of all places?  “What are you doing here?”, you asked as you slowly entered the room.  It was then that you noticed just how different Luke looked, how much he had changed since you last saw him. His hair was a bit shorter, his skin paler and his eyes darker. And he was wearing an orange flight suit, the outfit was completed by the helmet in his hand, with the familiar rebel symbol on the side.  You turned your lightsaber off before fastening it to your belt, just in time because only moments later you felt your legs begin to wobble before they gave out underneath you.  Luke, his reflexes fast as ever, quickly pushed a chair in your direction, so you would fall on that instead of the hard floor.  “Luke... Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”  You didn’t know what made you plead, hated the hurt and fear in your voice, but how could Luke, your Luke, not only be a rebel but be hiding right were an ancient Jedi temple was supposed to be.  “If you’re asking whether I’m a rebel, the answer is yes”, he said after a moment of silence. “But judging by that red saber that’s not the only thing you’re asking.”  Luke astonished you by sitting down on the small bed you only just noticed, one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. How could he be so calm?  “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a... what do you call yourselves again? Inquisitors?”  You couldn’t help the inappropriate laugh that escaped your lips.  “Yes, Inquisitors. Also known as the only people stopping the Jedi from destroying the galaxy as we know it.”  Luke simply looked at you, an expression on his face you’ve never seen. He seemed to be beyond angry, though there was no denying the sadness in his eyes.  “Is that what you believe? That the Jedi, the few Jedi you and those like you haven’t slaughtered, are trying to destroy the galaxy?”  Not knowing what made you do it you sat down next to Luke, though you did your best to put some distance between you on the small bed.  “Luke, I know this might be hard to hear, I know some people, rebels and Jedi alike, probably told you more lies than either of us can count, but the Jedi are bad. They once controlled the galaxy, did you know that? And they used that control to gain riches and live comfortably while others suffered. They were selfish and deceiving and cruel and Emperor Palpatine was the only one who could stop them. You know that, don’t you?”, you asked. Of course Luke had to know that, know the truth. You spoke to him in a soft voice, careful not to burst his bubble too sudden, to give him time to adjust and acknowledge what deep down you were sure he had to know.  “Is that what they told you? What they made you believe so you would go around killing innocent children, scared old fugitives and all those trying to live normal lives after a genocide? Wake up, (Y/N)! It’s not the Jedi that are bad, it’s the Empire.”  Luke reached out to take your hand and for reasons unknown to you, you let him.  “The Empire raised you, didn't it?”, he asked.  To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You’ve never really told Luke anything about your past, you weren’t even sure whether you told him that you were an orphan, but certainly not what your childhood had been like.  “How did you know?”  He moved closer to you before he answered, reached for your face to lay a hand on your cheek. The sadness in his eyes was even more obvious now, so much so that it took over his entire face.  “There’s no other explanation. If you had known life outside the Empire, if even just for a moment, you would know just how false everything you just said is.”  You shook your head. Though doubt began to creep in on you, the bigger part of your brain knew that Luke must be trying one of his Jedi tricks on you. But as soon as that thought appeared you neglected it. This was Luke, your Luke. Sweet and kind and caring, he couldn’t hurt a fly, much less you, no matter how much time has passed. So was what he was saying true? At least partially?  “They told you what they want you to believe, never let you make up your own mind. I know you, (Y/N), I know that deep down, somewhere underneath all those lies you’ve been told, you’re a good person, and that person doesn’t have to heart to be an Inquisitor.”  There was an expression on Luke’s face you knew all too well. Hope.  He squeezed your hand before lifting it up to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it.  “Luke, I... I’m...”, you started, but with how much your lip was quivering you couldn’t finish your sentence.  “It’s alright”, Luke said before pressing another kiss to your hand. “You don’t need to say it, you don’t need to apologize. You know, sorry doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a good start. And if you let me, I can help you. You could start a new life as part of the rebellion, I’m sure they’d be glad to have someone of your expertise.”  As Luke kept talking your head began to spiral. Finally you came to a conclusion, and though you knew it was the right thing, you almost didn’t go through with it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to look Luke in the eyes afterwards.  Slowly you began to loosen your hand from Luke’s grasp and removed his other hand from your cheek.  “I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna say that I am when I’m not. Maybe what I’ve done was wrong, and if that’s the case your rebellion would never accept me, I don’t think I would accept me if what I have done wasn’t for the good of the galaxy, or maybe everything I’ve ever been taught was right and you’re lying to me. Whatever it is, I cannot say that I’m sorry, much less go with you, until I know the truth.”  You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from Luke’s face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now.  “I know you won’t hurt me, even though you probably should. And I won’t hurt you, even though that’s what I’m here for. I’ll go looking for answers, to see whether I’m the villain you think I am, or the hero I was raised to be.”  As you spoke the last words you got up from the small bed. You could feel Luke’s eyes on you, but knew that if you looked at him, at the face you’ve seen in your dreams ever since you first met, you wouldn’t be able to go through with your plan, instead you’d crumble and fall into his arms, knowing he’d always be there to catch you.  Lucky for you, Luke didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you until you were almost out the door.  “I still love you”, he finally said. “Maybe I shouldn’t, knowing what I now know, but I can’t help it.”  Even though every bone in your body was screaming at you to turn around, even though your heart was aching to catch one last glimpse at him, you continued to walk out the door, out the hut and didn’t stop until you reached your TIE.  And just as you were taking off, after you have ripped parts of your clothes and carefully cut yourself with your lightsaber to make it seem as if Luke had bested you in battle, you finally did turn around and looked for Luke among the trees. And though you didn’t see him, something told you that he was there, watching you. It was that feeling that made you whisper the words you should have said to him whenever you had the chance.  “I love you too. And I’m sorry, for everything.” 

-------

I’m so sorry that this took ages, but I hope it was worth the wait. I really loved this idea and though I don’t think I really did it justice I have tried my best. 

[forever-rogue]

How would a reunion go if you had a kind of fling with Boba before the sarlacc pitt, then that happens the empire falls things happen and your forced to try and move on from the man you assume is dead. Now alive though, I imagine he seeks you out even to see if your still alive because on Tattooine who knows, but because the state the sarlacc pit has left him in he's hesitant to approach you.

Enjoy! I am also soft for my first SW love 🥺

Boba x GN!Reader

»»————-　♡　————-««

You hated this maker forsaken land. You hated every crook and crevice, from its twin suns to the dark, baked earth. It was harsh and unforgiving, constantly taking and taking, and never giving back. Part of you wondered why anyone still choose to call this barren land home. The land ate away at the people, their homes, their spirits, everything. But things never changed; people continued to bemoan the land and its travails, and yet everyone remained. Everything remained stagnant and never changing.

And yet you remained. You remained despite wanting nothing more than to leave.

Because you were a silly, hopeless fool. A fool that had fallen in love when you should have done anything but.

Boba was meant to be fling; mere meetings under the cover of night for some stress relief for both of you. But somewhere along the line, things had changed and you had developed feelings...badly.

None of that mattered now. Nothing mattered.

Because he was gotten and you were a wreck.

It had been just over a year since you’d received the news that Boba had met an untimely end at the hands of the sarlacc. You hadn’t wanted to believe it at first, almost refused to see sense and logic and admit that people might have been right.

No - they couldn’t have been. Boba Fett was the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy. He was strong and confident, a Mandalorian to his core. He would never succumb to something like that.

But...maybe he had. You’d gone to the pit, long after everyone had left and no decided to care anymore, and found nothing. No remnants of what happened, no signs of his untimely demise.

You held out hope that Boba, your Boba, would come back to you. He couldn’t have died and left you like that.

Boba never came back. Not after a week, a month, or even six months. It was like he had never existed. And it broke your heart every single day.

You don’t know why you stayed, why you never the land of the twins suns. But you did - a small, tiny part of you continued to hold out hoped that he would still come back to you.

But it had been a year and a week.

He wasn’t coming back.

And you couldn’t stay. Not anymore. Not any longer.

So you decided to leave Tatooine and make your home someplace else in the galaxy, some place quiet and safe. Anywhere but here.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn’t until a few days before you were set to leave to travel to your new home that you noticed something strange. At first you were sure that you were imagining it, caught up and tired from long days of preparations and seeing things. Surely there was some sort of mysterious figure lingering outside in your small yard. You must have been imagining it.

That’s what you told yourself the first time or two.

But then, you began seeing the figure more frequently, sometimes during the day as well as the night. By then you were positive it wasn’t just your imagination.

The next time you saw the figure, you darted out of the house and ran towards it, determined to figure out what or who it was, “hey!”

But they remained wordless, and presenting an ominous figure. The fact that they weren’t moving or running gave you a moment of pause, but you weren’t about to take silence for an answer.

You walked up to them, trying to hold your ground as you stared them down, “look I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you can’t just stand around here! Who even are you?!”

For a moment, a tense silence fell over the two of you as you tried to look under the hood, narrowing your eyes to make out a face. But there was nothing, nothing until you heard your name being softly whispered. That voice...you knew that voice so well.

It couldn’t be...it couldn’t. He was dead, and there was no way this mysterious stranger was your Boba.

Shaking your head, you took a step back as you already felt tears welling up in your eyes. Either you were dreaming or someone was pulling a horrible, cruel joke on you.

But then it came again, still soft, but with more conviction, and it was stopped by a soft statement, “it’s me....Boba.”

“No,” your hands flew to your mouth as you shook your head, the tears already pouring down your face. He appeared to want to approach you, but seemed hesitant, “Boba’s dead...h-he...they killed him, pushed him into the sarlacc pit. He’s been gone for over a year.”

“It’s me,” he insisted softly as he reached up and pulled back the hood to reveal a very different face than you had been expecting. It took you a moment to calm down from your surprise, but as you looked him over, slowly, taking it all in, you realized it was him. Distinctively and undeniably, this was Boba, “i realize I don’t look quite the same as I used to...”

“Boba,” his name was soft off your lips, like you had just seen a ghost. In theory, you definitely had, but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering at the sight. You allowed yourself to take a step closer, watching him for any sort of reaction. He didn’t flinch or move, his face remaining the true picture of neutrality, “is it really you? You’ve come back to me...”

“Yes,” he said as you stopped in front of him, offering him a tired, soft smile, “I’m sorry it took so long...I’m sorry I look...”

“Boba,” you didn’t even bother to stop yourself as you threw your arms him and held him tightly against your body, crying into his shoulder, “my love, you’ve come back. You’re alive...this whole time, I didn’t give up hope...I still wanted to believe you were okay.”

“I’m okay....” he answered, “as okay as one can be. I didn’t know if you were still here...”

“I didn’t leave,” you admitted, “I couldn’t...I held onto the hope that you were alive that you’d come back to me...I was getting ready to leave in a few days. I didn’t...I couldn’t stay. Everything here reminded me of you, and I couldn’t take it another day. You came just in time.”

“I would always come back to you,” he reached up and put his hand on your cheek, gently touching your face as if he was trying his best to re-familiarize himself with your face. Your features, your touch, your scent....everything, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“I don’t care,” you promised in earnest, “I don’t care at all. I only care about you. That you’re okay, and safe. And back. Nothing else matters.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to have feelings for one another?” he joked lightly as you shook your head, slowly reaching a hand up and running it over his features. The visage you had last seen was different from this, but it was still handsome, still your Boba. Gone was the dark hair, and the stubble he often favored, replaced with the bare skin, scarred and marred from the sarlacc. He hesitated for just a moment as you touched him, but he was soon nudging into your touch, keening like a lothcat towards the sun.

“Fuck that,” you insisted through your tears, grinning at him from ear to ear, “I love you, Boba. I always have and I always will.”

“Is this a good time for me to say I love you too?” there was a bit of the cheeky man you knew and loved. You nodded before leaned towards him and pressing your lips ever so lightly against his. He hesitated for just a moment before he reciprocated, his hand going to the back of your neck as he held you close to him, kissing you with a hungry fervor and urgency.

“It’s hard to believe you’re actually here,” you whispered softly, “I can’t believe you’re back.”

“I’m here,” he promised, “I’m not leaving again, Cyare.”

“You better mean it, Boba,” you said softly as you playfully nudged him, “mean time I’m kill you myself!”

[ab1tofsp1ce]

A Warmer Refuge

CHAPTER 4: Tender and Untouched

Masterlist HERE

A/N: Hey everyone! I have more parts coming soon so follow if you’re interested!

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 3K

Warnings: Just fluff and a bit of angst

Description: You finally open up to the Mandalorian a bit, who seems to be far more interested in your life than you anticipated.

I don’t remember how or when I fell asleep, but I did drift in and out of consciousness enough times to paint a picture of what happened over the next few hours. Despite being exhausted, the cold initially kept me from falling asleep. Although I’m sure it truly wasn’t that frigid, I’d spent my whole life on sun-kissed dunes, far away from these rugged mountains. I lay there, using my rucksack as a pillow, curled up in a desperate bid to retain some warmth. Then, at some point, I felt a blanket of some kind drape over me, quelling my shivers. Later, I flickered into consciousness for a brief second to recognize the warmth and scent of fire, burning a few feet away from me. Finally, one last time, I briefly stirred again far later. I had turned over and was facing away from the entrance to the cave and the fire, its warmth washing over my back. Above the low crackle of the fire, I could hear the rain had faded, only contributing a gentle patter outside. This enabled me to now hear something else; the Mandalorian’s breathing. He gently cleared his throat with a clarity I hadn’t heard before. And then I realized why. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. And, when I listened further, I realized it was because he was eating. I was so exhausted I barely had the energy to stay awake and listen, but just the idea that he was right there, so close to me (even if a few feet away). He felt comfortable enough – maybe even trusting of me – to remove it. This thought sent a final jolt of glee through my heart, and then my eyes gave in, and I fell back to sleep.

When I woke up it was dark, and I was still turned away from the fire. As I sat up and looked over, I saw that the fire was only a glowing ember and… he wasn’t there. My heart froze, and I felt a rush in my head as I sat up more frantically. His stuff was still there, as was mine. The rain was still dimly pattering down outside, echoing slightly in this small cave. I stood up; the blanket that had been wrapped around me falling to the ground. When I looked down at it, I realized it was not a blanket, but his cape. My heart began to pound as I scanned the cave. Outside, it was too black to see anything further than a foot or two from the entrance of the cave. I approached it, barely noticing the stinging of my wounded leg. My eyes were yet to adjust, and the darkness seemed all-consuming and never-ending. I felt it caught in my throat – I wanted to yell out to him. I felt myself begin to panic. I fought with myself and my better judgment, before taking a step out of the mouth of the cave. The rain dripped down my arms, and I drew in a shaky breath for courage. But just as I took another step, I saw something in the distance. Something shiny, reflecting the extraordinarily dim glow of the dying fire behind me. As it grew closer, I began to make out a figure; I sighed in relief, almost collapsing right there. The Mandalorian marched towards me, blaster in hand. I was yet to see him with his weapon drawn, a strange thing considering it was such an integral part of his job. He stopped about ten feet away from me, still holding his blaster at his side. He seemed to be looking at me like he was expecting an answer. “I – you scared me,” was all I managed to stutter out. “I woke up and you were gone.” He stood there for a moment, and I thought he was going to disregard what I said like he usually did. “There was a noise, I went to go investigate.” I wasn’t sure what to do. In truth, I was just so relieved to see him there I wanted to bask in it for another moment. We just stood there staring at each other. It was funny, how he was only gone for a brief moment, and yet he had almost given me a heart attack. It made me realize how much I had been relying on him; on a foreign planet, far from civilization, in the middle of the night – he was the only thing protecting me. “Come on,” he said, securing his blaster back in its holster. “You’ll freeze in the rain.”

After reviving the fire, the Mandalorian sat down in the same spot as before, while I shuffled my pile of stuff a little closer to the fire so I could properly dry off. I had quickly discovered that my clothes, which were the same ones I had worn on Yak’ish Temeen, were not made for wetter biomes. Even though it had been hours since my first stint in the rain they had still been wet and were even more so now. Part of me knew I’d have trouble keeping warm in wet clothes, but there was no way I was going to try and have that conversation with the Mandalorian. So, instead, I rolled up my sleeves to wring them out and get some of the fire’s warmth on my skin. “What’s that?” The Mandalorian interrupted my thoughtless mind with his abrupt question. I looked up to see him gesturing to my left arm, in particular to my tattoo. It was a thick red band that circled my bicep, except for a one-inch gap at the front. “It’s cultural,” I tried to explain. “When we come of age, we get this tattoo. To show all other Grat’anarians that we are old enough to leave our carousel, or herd our cattle, or to get – ”. I realized then I didn’t want to finish that sentence. It was a can of worms I wasn’t ready to open. But my hesitance had come too late. “To get what?” There was an earnest tone to this question. I regarded him for a moment; how he looked genuinely interested in me. “To get married,” I admitted. “Were you…,” he trailed off, and I felt myself grow hot in the cheeks. “Oh! No! I mean… I could’ve, obviously, but I wasn’t…” I paused. “I couldn’t leave my family.” “Is that… what happens,” he asked. “When you get married?” I shrugged, looking down at my dirty, scraped hands. “Not necessarily. But when we marry it’s generally between different carousels, so one would have to move and the other would stay.” There was a moment of silence. “Why couldn’t you leave your family?” He had a cautious tone, clearly unsure of whether I’d be happy answering that question. “My brother and I were raised by my grandparents,” I began. “He was much younger than me and, when my grandmother became sick, I knew I couldn’t leave them. Our income depended on my grandfather traveling to Yemi’natar, but he needed someone with him. So, I started going.” I glanced up at him, and he was looking at me. It felt like he was trying to read me, to figure out what I really meant. I wasn’t sure what to do with that, so I kept talking. “The gap, here,” I gestured to the tattoo, “was supposed to be filled when I got married. It would hold a crest that belonged to… to my spouse’s family. They would get mine and I would get theirs. It’s meant to be a symbol of gratitude to your new in-laws; like a thank-you to them for raising your spouse.” I stared at the tattoo, which all of a sudden struck me as empty. “I’ll never get to fill it now.” The Mandalorian cleared his throat. “What… what happened back there? If you have refugee status for entering Kistern…” I sighed. I hadn’t talked about it. Not out of reserve or grief, but because I hadn’t had anyone to talk to. For the past year I’d been alone, barely surviving on scavenged scraps and favors owed by old acquaintances of my family. But, in truth, the general population of Yak’ish Temeen held, at best, very little regard for Grat’anarians, even though we were one the only true natives to the planet. “Grat’anarians were never favored by other species that settled on Yak’ish Temeen. We have a strong connection to the land, and we know how to not just survive but thrive on it. Some, particularly the –”. I let out a shaky breath. “… particularly the Pelosans never liked us. The Empire had promised them our land in exchange for their allegiance. But when the Empire fell, the Pelosans decided to take matters into their own hands.” I shuddered, trying to suppress the memories. “We were never fighters like they were. And worse, we never expected it.” “What about the New Republic?” I scoffed; it was a childish question. “What about them? There’s been so much disarray in the past few years, they didn’t know or care about what was happening on a small, isolated planet on the edge of the galaxy until it was too late.” It was hard to hide the contempt in my voice. Truthfully, I knew little about the politics of the galaxy, but I didn’t care to. All that mattered in my mind was that there was no one to help when we needed it, and now I was here because of it. The Mandalorian shuffled uncomfortably and looked away, and I realized I may have been too scornful. I tried to smile at him softly, to lessen the sting of my words, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. What else was there to say? Except… “What about you?” I asked. He looked back up at me, as if confused, so I clarified. “What are you planning to do on Kistern?” He stared into the fire. “I’m hoping to find someone… find information, about something.” I was a little disheartened at his lack of transparency, although I wasn’t entirely sure what I expected from him. I felt sad, truthfully, at the sound of his voice. It was so… well, scared. Maybe that word was too strong, but there was something that twinged in his voice, a sound reminiscent of a feeling I knew all too well; loss. If he had told me outright that he had lost a lot in his life, I certainly wouldn’t have been surprised. I’m sure you don’t become a bounty hunter for the enjoyment. But, in some way, the less he said the more he said. It was his reservation, the ache of guilt or grief that resonated in his voice, that I recognized. I had felt it every second of my life for almost a year. “I hope you find it,” was all I managed to muster. In my peripheral vision I noticed him look back up at me as I looked down at the ground. It was a trifling talent I had always possessed, and I could see, with remarkable clarity, the exact way he was currently staring at me despite the fact I wasn’t looking at him. He was watching me, and although I couldn’t see what was happening under that helmet, I could’ve sworn I felt his eyes travel up and down me, lingering on my face as if scanning it for an ulterior meaning. My heart thumped loudly at the thought – the idea that he was watching me. That I was interesting enough to be observed in this way. The last year of my life I’d been forgotten, shed from society. Actually, if I was being truthful, I’d felt that way my whole life. Quiet, and of little to no importance. It wasn’t because of anything anyone had ever done; in fact, that was the exact reason why I had felt so lost. It was the same reason I had slaved for hours over those stupid little trinkets my grandmother had given me – I was so desperate to prove my worth. And now I was, as far as I knew, the last of my people still alive. For a whole year I’d lived with that survivor’s guilt, of how ordinary and unimportant I was, and I wondered why it couldn’t have been someone else smarter or braver sitting here where I am now. It didn’t matter that I had that tattoo – I still felt like a child. A tear slid down my cheek silently, and I frantically wiped it off with my sleeve. But it was too late. I couldn’t hold it back. The pain, the guilt, the grief, the exhaustion. Although my face remained straight, a desperate bid to retain some integrity, I couldn’t help crying wordlessly. My vision blurred; I could no longer tell if he was looking at me. Apparently, he was. “I lost everyone,” he said quietly, and I responded by quickly attempting to regain my composure. He was staring into the fire distantly. “Not just my Creed, but… but my real family, too. Many years ago.” He seemed to sigh silently. “And then, just when I thought I found another family, I lost them too.” It was hard not to quiver at the sound of his voice. So disheartened, aching with longing. “Who was… who was your new family?” He looked down at his hands, as I had before. “They were more of… an unlikely friend.” He chuckled slightly, as if recalling a memory of a fonder time. The sound was so warm and comforting, I couldn’t help but smile too. “I could use a friend,” I admitted. I bit my tongue after, wondering if I’d overstepped an invisible line between us. I remembered suddenly what his hand had felt like, warm under mine – tender and untouched. “Me too,” he said.

[kythed]

synopsis: it’s a tragic case of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl has a boyfriend. [un]luckily for you, semi doesn’t play by the rules... and you don’t really want him to.

tagged: semi eita x reader, fluff, mediocre writing.

commitment level: 2,583 words.

table of contents | next chapter >>

They say young love is a rite of passage. They say it’s fresh and light, it’s wading in the shallows of a swiftly flowing river and letting the deliciously frigid water take you wherever it flows. They say young love comes easily. 

But they don’t tell you youth is not a remedy for pain. They don’t tell you the cold of that water burns your skin, too — it leaves your fingertips numb and kisses your palms an angry red. They say “it’s just puppy love,” but they don’t tell you puppies grow into wolves. 

+

You’re eighteen when you first meet Semi Eita, and he’s twenty-two. It’s not a highly significant age gap, but it’s noticeable enough. 

“She’s a baby,” he says, eyes grey as the southern sea and just as unforgiving. Though he’s young, the weight of an iron giant rests on his slender shoulders. 

“She’s talented, Semi,” says Akamine, tone wheedling. He fiddles with the lapels of his coat — it’s Italian, all cream silk and bronze buttons. “She’s capable.” 

Twenty year old Akamine Keo is a trust-fund kid, born into the arms of an oil empire he’ll someday fall heir to. He’s charming, clever, and sweet, with distinctly expensive good looks, fine features and black hair like raven’s feathers. He also happens to be your boyfriend. 

“That means nothing,” Semi says, peering into your face. An uncomfortable chill tickles the back of your neck as you fight the urge to look away. “There are toddlers who can shred Led Zeppelin, but they’re not musicians. They’re puppets controlled by overzealous tiger moms. They can’t take the heat of the real industry.”

“I can take the heat.” Your words bleed out heavy and sharp, a rough gash through the palpably thick tension. Fingernails leaving painful half-moons on your palms, you clench and unclench your fists down at your sides. “And I can sure as hell shred better than any toddler.”

For a split second, surprise flashes across Semi’s face, only to be quickly replaced by a wry smile. “Brave.” 

You stare at him, lips sucked in and eyes narrowed as Akamine slings an arm over your shoulders and presses a kiss to your temples. 

“See?” he says with a laugh. “She’s talented, capable, and brave.”

“Well,” says Semi, drawing the word out. He cocks his head, giving you one last hard once-over, before extending a hand for a firm shake. “We’ll see. I’ll give you two months. A trial.” 

You accept this compromise, returning the shake. Semi’s still skeptical, you can tell, but you make a vow to yourself — you’re about to blow this sonuvabitch out of the water. As Akamine crows in delight, Semi’s eyes don’t leave yours. 

Good luck, they seem to be saying. You’ll need it. 

You smile, and he smiles back. 

I won’t. 

+

Semi’s a phenomenal bassist. When you’d first started dating Akamine and he’d just joined Semi’s band, he could scarcely shut up about it — “His name’s Semi Eita, and I swear he’s got magic in those fingers, babe.” 

Well, Semi Eita’s about to be dethroned, because your fingers are magic, too. 

For those two months, you’re the band’s lead guitarist, and you pass Semi’s test with flying colors. It takes a couple weeks to fall into step with the other guys — Semi on bass, Akamine on drums, and a quiet college kid called Yasuda on keys — but you’re a quick study, and soon you’re a cornerstone, expertly weaving searing arpeggios of dashed dreams and fiery hopes up and down the band’s underlying tunes. 

(You should’ve seen it coming.)

You and Semi somehow become co-songwriters. He has a knack for melodies, and you have a knack for lyrics. Akamine doesn’t seem to mind the long hours you spend in Semi’s company, working in a whirlwind of messy notes and empty energy drink cans — he trusts you. 

(Sometimes you feel like maybe he shouldn’t.)

“What do you think of this?” Semi says, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. It’s 10pm on a Friday night, and you’re stretched out on his couch, inhaling chow mein from a greasy paper box. “For the second verse, I mean.” 

“Lemme see,” you say around a mouthful of noodles, snatching the paper from his hand. You furrow your brow. “‘Tear me open like a scarlet letter, cruelly addressed ‘return to sender…’’ Jeez, Semi. Who hurt you?” 

Semi scowls. “It’s a breakup song, isn’t it? It’s supposed to hurt.” 

“You might consider being a little more… subtle,” you suggest, offering him a fortune cookie. He takes it and sets it aside.

“Heartbreak isn’t subtle,” he says, shooting you a look that speaks of throbbing phantom wounds. “It cuts deep. All the way down to the heart. Hence the name heartbreak.” 

“Wow. I had no idea,” you say drily. You swing your legs over the couch and sit upright, snatching his pencil. “I just think we should tackle this with nuance, not just write another ‘eff you’ ballad.” 

“This world can always use another ‘eff you’ ballad,” Semi says humorlessly, resting his chin in his hand. 

You regard his suddenly silent demeanor as he stares, unseeing, out the window. It’s dark outside, and it’s a darkness that speaks less of peaceful sleep and more of emptiness. 

You sigh, nudging him with your foot. “What was her name?” 

“What?”

“Her name. This demon of a girl that hurt you so badly.” 

For a moment, it seems he’s going to argue, to deny ever being afflicted with something so childish as lovesickness. Then he runs a defeated hand through his hair and shakes his head, laughing. “You’re too curious for your own good.”

You wait. There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence as Semi chews his lip.

“...Her name was Aiko,” he says finally, inspecting his nails with a faux nonchalance. “Smokin’ hot. Met her in music school three or so years ago, I think — she was a TA, a few years older than I was.”

“Older women, huh?” you tease. This is new territory — you’re dipping a toe into the forbidden arena of flirtation. A shadow of guilt creeps into the back of your mind as you think of Akamine, but the bright light of Semi’s crooked grin swiftly flushes it away.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over to flick your leg. “I don’t date babies like you.” 

“Maybe you should consider it,” you say, unthinking. Semi stares at you, eyebrow raised, and you flush, frantically backtracking. “Not me specifically. I’m just saying — well, I mean, ‘cause this Aiko chick was such a bad time and everything.” 

“If you have a crush on me, just admit it,” Semi says. You’re sure it’s meant to come across jokingly, but the way he’s eyeing you twists your stomach into a pleasurable knot. Then he sighs, leaning back on his arms. “She was a great time, actually. It’s the ending that sucked ass.” 

The question lingers at the tip of your tongue, hesitant like an ill-trained acrobat, but before it even attempts the leap, Semi answers.

“It burned.” He looks straight at you, and you can taste the bitterness in his words. “It burned, and not a day goes by that I can’t remember how awful it felt.” 

+

That’s the first of the many secrets you trade with him. 

Later that night, you tell Semi about your first kiss, about how the recipient smelled like Old Spice and tasted like chapstick, how he walked you to your front door and introduced himself to your mom. About how he took your virginity six months later, and how you soon realized there are some things in life you don’t get an exchange receipt for. 

Semi tells you his favorite color is green, and that outer space scares him more than anything. (He doesn’t like thinking about life in other galaxies because he can hardly handle thinking about life right here.)

You tell him you like milk tea with 75% sweetness, and he promises he’ll take you to his favorite cafe sometime. (“Not a date,” he assures you, and you internally scold yourself for wishing it was one.)

He says he once accidentally kicked a stray cat while trying to find a volleyball he lost in the bushes near his house, and that’s why he considers himself a cat person now: as repentance. (He has a pet cat called Haru, and he shows you a picture — Haru is small and black with bright yellow eyes. You say he’s cute, but Semi corrects you: “Not cute. Fierce.”) 

You say you used to wish life had a restart button, so you could turn back time and dance through each year without making a single mistake.

Semi says he still wishes that. 

(Another thing they don’t tell you is how secrets are really currency. Secrets can’t help but pay for familiarity, and familiarity often leads to something more.)

+

It’s a couple weeks later when you have your first gig. It’s at a bar downtown, and Yasuda nabs fakes for you and Akamine, though you don’t plan on drinking. Not much, anyways. 

(Speaking of Akamine, your relationship with him has grown strained over the past month. He’s stretched himself thin between the band and his business degree, and you — well, whenever your phone pings, you can’t stop hoping it’s from Semi.)

Five minutes before show time, Semi turns to you, eyes wide. “We don’t have a band name.” 

“What?”

“We don’t have a band name.” He looks around, frantically trying to draw inspiration from something in the dimly lit bar. “Quick, think of something.” 

So you think for a moment, chewing your inner cheek, before reaching out and tugging on Semi’s sleeve. “Paper.”

“Paper?”

“Paper.”

Paper is fragile, it’s thin, it’s easy to come by. But it’s also a world of potential on one sheet, a story waiting to be written. 

When the bar owner walks onto the stage and introduces the band, you know you’ve made the right decision. And from the glittering smile Semi flashes you before nodding at Akamine to count you in, you know he thinks so too. 

The show goes on without a hitch, and even though the bar is far from packed, you’re just as proud as you’d be playing in a stadium of screaming fans. The air smells of stale whiskey and fresh beginnings, and as your fingers dance up and down your Gibson’s fretboard, you hear colors — rich teal, smooth mahogany, creamy gold and silver brighter than the stars. Akamine keeps the rhythm like a war drum, and Semi, as always, is perfect. Yasuda, doubling as the main vocalist, sings until his voice gets wonderfully low and raspy, keyboard taking some of the heat as he grins back at you, mouthing how badly his throat hurts.

You’re sweaty when the set’s done, and Akamine buys you a drink, giving you a quick, half-hearted kiss and a tired smile.

Akamine’s always been kind to you.

“I gotta go,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Essay due tomorrow at ten.” 

He looks so genuinely sorry to leave, you almost feel guilty. 

+

You’re packing up your amps into the back of Semi’s van, alone in the parking lot save for the moon many miles above, hanging bright and full in a clear sky. The moon has seen all your most indulgent sins, and she’s going to see one more tonight.

“You did well.” Semi heaves the last of the equipment into his truck before turning to you, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Consider me impressed.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, giving him a mock bow. “So glad I’ve finally managed to impress the Semi Eita.” 

He regards you for a moment, arms crossed. A small sigh escapes his lips. It’s both a sigh of resignation and one of anticipation. 

Then, in one smooth motion, he steps close, reaches out, and pulls you close by the waist. 

You stare up at him, all too aware of the heat radiating from his body. His skin is burning, and his cologne is different from Akamine’s — it’s not expensive, it’s not a multilayered, deep, woody scent. It’s cheap, the sort of cologne a struggling musician can afford, but it smells of home.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” he whispers, sliding a hand up your jaw to cup your face. His hair glows silver and ghostly under the streetlamps. 

“And what are you about to do?” Your voice is deadly quiet, and your chest feels a deathly cold despite Semi’s proximity, refusing to thaw as you await his answer. 

“Kiss you absolutely senseless.” 

Semi’s never been one to make empty promises, and right now is no exception. He presses his lips to yours and you immediately melt into his arms, suddenly craving him and only him. You’re not entirely sure how you’ve managed to avoid devouring him whole up until this point, because he kisses like Eros, full of pomegranate seeds and crimson blossoms, of days spent in clandestine bliss. He kisses like a man on death row, desperate and longing, hands squeezing your waist like your body is his only anchor to life itself. 

Semi Eita wants to be a rockstar, but right now he’s just a boy kissing a girl he’s bound to fall deeply, inexplicably in love with. 

When he finally breaks away, you’re breathless, staring up at him like you’ve just seen an angel. Your hands are still curled in the front of his shirt, you’re still standing on tiptoe, lips just inches from his. 

“Semi…” You swallow hard. “Akamine’s a good guy… I can’t.”

Semi tenses his jaw, taking a finger to lift your chin. “Then why are you looking at me like that?” 

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hungry.” 

He’s got you there. 

You’re standing on a balance beam splitting two vastly different worlds. On one side there’s the known: Akamine and his bright, blue-eyed optimism, his willingness to shoulder burdens he shouldn’t have to. There’s his sweet touch and soft kisses, his firm words of reassurance and his sunny laughter shedding light on your hidden depths. 

The known is comforting. It’s familiar. 

But on the other side… there’s the unknown. There’s Semi Eita in all his scalded glory, his sharp tongue and headstrong determination. There’s his burning touch, his fingers leaving scorch marks on your cheek and his lips depositing glowing embers in your mouth, ready to ignite at a single inflammatory word. There’s his moonstone enigma, the shadow underlying his every sentence like smudged eyeliner. 

The unknown is frightening, almost overwhelmingly so… but there’s something in you, something willful and terribly thirsty, that draws you to this unknown and the possibility of knowing it. 

“Because I am.” 

And you grab his face and pull it down to yours, impatient, frustrated by months of dancing around that painfully tangible attraction, that magnetism — finally, you allow yourself to fall, hurtling through a chasm of fallen stars and ancient suns, hanging on to nothing but Semi and his carefully guarded secrets. 

You kiss him hard, pouring your soul into his mouth, all your youthful doubt and hope. You knot your fingers in his hair, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing your body so close it’s as if he wants to make it a part of himself. 

And when you part for the second time, chest heaving, you know you’ve fallen completely, entirely, without a doubt. 

[dykeninthdoctor]

“ironhusbands, pre relationship, focusing on them in their first year of college and being like rhodey really realizing how young tony is” and “sweater sharing”

“Have you heard–“

“Did you see–“

“He went to Rob’s party–“

The whispers are carried to him on the wind, full of rumors, sometimes lies, sometimes truths.

Jim doesn’t care. He knows Tony Stark–the heir to the Stark empire, son of the legend, Howard Stark–is on campus, but he doesn’t care.

There’s no reason for him to.

The kid is 16, apparently, a prodigy for his age, which Jim could’ve guessed, and he gives zero shits about his education.

Jim hasn’t heard anything about the kid going to classes; only about parties, and girls, and sometimes, the whispers mention boys, too. They call Stark a charmer, a slut, a flirt, and worse.

Maybe Jim cares a little bit.

Stark is 16, and he already has a reputation, one that scares Jim.

“Oh my God, did you see how much he drank last night?” a girl says, eyes wide in a mockery of surprise.

“He never seems like he’s drunk, though,” her friend says.

Jim frowns.

“Maybe it runs in the family,” the first girl teases, and then they’re both laughing, walking in the other direction.

Jim frowns harder.

-

He goes to a party the next chance he gets.

Stark is there, in the center of it all, holding court like a prince standing on the backs of his adoring subjects. He’s sprawled across a sofa, legs draped across the lap of a girl whose hand is resting on the inside of his thigh, head in the lap of another girl whose lips are staining marks of red across his jaw.

Stark’s eyes are glazed, the smile he wears is taped on, and Jim realizes with a sinking feeling that it’s all a mask. A mask hastily built, a mask with cracks that Stark uses alcohol to fill, so that no one can see the emotions behind it.

Jim doesn’t know how, or why, but he can.

“A toast,” Stark slurs, raising the plastic cup in his hand, “To dear ol’ dad, who sent me to this lovely institution.”

A cheer goes up around the room.

Stark drinks.

Jim’s moving before he realizes, shoving his way past people, fighting to get to Stark, snapping sharply, “C’mon, Tony, let’s go.”

To his surprise, and fear, Stark gets up and takes his hand without second thought. Jim tries not to think about why.

When he takes Stark outside, the kid–because God, he’s just a kid–looks up at him with a raised brow and a smirk made of plaster. “We’re gonna do it outside? You’re into exhibitionist shit, huh?”

And then he’s on his knees in front of Jim, and Jim’s trying not to throw up.

“No–shit, no, please stand up, Stark–“

“What?”

It’s the confusion in his voice that finally does it, and Jim’s retching into the bushes that line the house behind them, coughing up bile.

He hears the clumsy motions of Stark getting to his feet, feels a small but calloused hand on his back, sees Stark’s face–eyes wide, lips parted in a small o, the face of a kid–and then throws up more bile onto the leaves.

“I’m sorry?” Stark offers quietly, and it’s so different from the brassy, loud, slurred voice of the prince Jim saw only minutes ago.

“How old are you?” Jim asks. It’s not what he meant to say, but as Stark’s eyes go a little wider, he knows he needs to know the answer, because it’s not 16.

“I’m almost 15.”

Jim tries not to throw up again.

-

He takes Stark back to his dorm, with its single bed and tiny cork board with pictures of Momma Robbie and Jeanie tacked up, with the single poster of a galaxy taped to his wall and the precarious stack of textbooks on his desk.

Stark drowns in his clothes, the knitted sweatshirt hanging off his shoulder, revealing a collarbone littered with hickeys, the sweatpants hanging low on his hips, showing bruises the shape of fingers pressed into tan skin.

“Why?”

The question rings out in the silent room.

“Why what?”

“Why are you being…like this?”

“Because you need this,” Jim says.

Stark just looks at him, his chest rising and falling with exaggerated slow breaths, his eyes blinking slowly, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

“C’mon, get in bed.”

When Stark doesn’t move, Jim freezes.

“No, Stark–not like that. I’m not gonna do anything with you–to you. We’re not doing anything. You deserve a safe place to sleep. I’m gonna do homework, okay?”

“Okay,” Stark says quietly.

When he falls asleep, curled around the only pillow in Jim’s bed, he looks even younger.

Jim makes himself a promise.

A promise to protect Stark.

-

The next day, when he wakes up with his face pressed to the pages of his physics textbook, and his bed rumpled but empty, he realizes protection is not what Stark wants.

Too bad, Jim thinks. Too fucking bad.

-

It’s harder than he thinks to find Stark; even if the kid doesn’t attend classes, there aren’t parties during the day.

The whispers don’t tell him anything, and today, they’re about him.

“He went home with him, just like that–“

“Have you see him around before?”

“Stark just listened to him–“

Jim ignores them.

He goes to his classes, he takes notes, he tries to focus.

He also thinks about where Stark might be hiding.

-

He doesn’t have to think too hard; Stark’s sitting in his dorm when he gets back after his 5:00 lecture.

The door was locked, but Stark didn’t seem to have any difficulty with that.

“Hi,” Stark says.

“What the fuck,” Jim says back.

Stark shrugs. “You were nice to me. What do you want for it? Money? A reputation boost? We can pretend to fuck, if you don’t want to for real, just so that people think you got some.”

“What do I want for it?” Jim repeats.

“Yeah, payment.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“C’mon, everyone wants something,” Stark says, and the way his eyes avoid Jim’s, despite his casual pose and even more casual tone, tells Jim that he’s scared.

“I don’t want anything, Stark.”

It’s a lie; he wants to know who hurt Stark, he wants to give Stark a hug, he wants to protect Stark.

He also wants Stark to let him out of choice, rather than obligation.

“Okay,” Stark says.

Okay, Jim thinks.

What he says is, “You can stay while I do my homework, if you want.”

“I talk a lot,” Stark tells him. “I’ll bother you.”

“I have a little sister, you can’t be worse than her.”

“Oh.”

So Stark stays.

-

“What’s your name?”

“Jim.”

“Oh, that won’t do at all. What’s the rest of it?”

“James Rupert Rhodes?”

“Rupert?”

“Don’t start with me, Stark–“

“Tony. My name’s Tony.”

“And my name’s Jim.”

“Not anymore, it’s not. You’re Rhodey now.”

-

“What are you doing?”

“Physics.”

“No shit, Sherlock, I meant the equation. You calculated wrong.”

“I did not.”

“Put it in the calculator, it’s not 6.78, it’s 6.57.”

“You did that in your head?”

“I’m not just a pretty face.”

-

“How old’s your sister?”

“She’s 10, but she’s 7 in that picture.”

“That’s your mom?”

“Yeah, I took that picture of them at the lake near our house.”

“She…she looks nice.”

“She’d like you.”

-

“What’s your major?”

“Aerospace Engineering, so yeah, I’m a rocket scientist.”

“Damn, how’d you know what I was gonna say?”

“You’re predictable, Tones.”

“Tones?”

“Well, if you’re allowed to give me a nickname, shouldn’t the favor be returned?”

“I…yeah.”

-

So Jim becomes Rhodey, and Stark becomes Tony, and sometimes Tones.

-

Rhodey realizes a few months in that Tony doesn’t need protection.

Tony knows how to protect himself, with a sharp quip or an even sharper smile.

What Tony needs is love.

So Rhodey makes a new promise.

-

After Rhodey has to drag Tony out of another party, after slurred words become quiet apologies, after Tony falls asleep in his bed again, Rhodey calls his momma.

She tells him to bring Tony home for Christmas break.

-

In Rhodey’s eyes, Tony’s never looked more alive than when Momma Robbie convinced him to play Scrabble with her and Jeanie.

-

“That boy needs love, James,” Momma Robbie tells him, a mug of tea cradled in her hands.

“I know, momma.”

“You gonna make sure he gets it?”

“Pretty sure I already am.”

-

When the clock strikes twelve on New Years, Tony tries to kiss him.

They’re on the roof, the stars above them reflecting in Tony’s eyes, and Tony tries to kiss him.

“No, Tones,” Rhodey says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love you.”

“Just not like that?”

Tony’s voice is broken glass, slowly tearing Rhodey’s heart to pieces.

The lie is a knife to the chest.

“Just not like that.”

Tony nods quietly.

They don’t share a bed that night.

-

When they get back from break, after a silent car ride, Tony asks suddenly, “Wanna see my workshop?”

It would’ve been simpler to ask if Rhodey wanted to see his heart.

There’s no other to answer to give than yes.

-

It’s a beautiful mess of chaos, the only description befitting the place where Tony breathes life into wires and gears and lines of numbers.

Rhodey doesn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you, Tones.”

Tony hugs him for an hour, and then spends three more showing him each idea, and then uses another two to get lost in a new project.

Rhodey realizes that this is where Tony truly comes alive.

He’s a kid in a candy store, a bird taking flight, a genius at work.

And he’s beautiful.

The knife, the lie, digs harder into Rhodey’s chest.

-

Tony has bad weeks, and worse weeks, where Rhodey doesn’t see him for days, but it’s okay.

It’s okay, because Tony always comes back.

-

Rhodey learns about Howard during a bad week, and about Jarvis on a good one.

He learns about Maria on a good week, and about Ana on a bad one.

Tony brings him pieces, and Rhodey starts to build the puzzle.

Some pieces are missing, and will probably always be missing, but it’s okay.

Rhodey will love him no matter what.

And slowly, Tony is starting to believe that. Rhodey can see it in his eyes, in the way his mask comes off, in the way the cracks become windows for Rhodey to look through.

-

The summer is long. Tony calls him some weeks, emails other weeks, doesn’t talk at all for most of them.

The worst part is not knowing if he’s okay.

But Rhodey takes what he can get, and gives as much as Tony will take.

-

When they get back to school, there are fresh bruises on Tony’s arms. Rhodey gives him a new sweater from Momma Robbie and Tony wears it like its armor.

They get a dorm together, officially, and most nights, Tony ends up in Rhodey’s bed, in Rhodey’s arms.

Watching him wake up is the best part of Rhodey’s day.

It’s hard, to keep lying, but Tony’s still just a kid, and Rhodey won’t be another person to use him.

So he loves him in the ways he can, and it’s enough, because it has to be.

-

The whispers are constant, always talking about them, but this time, Rhodey truly doesn’t care.

He knows better than the lies they spread.

-

“Rhodey–Rhodey, wake up,” Tony whispers against his chest.

Rhodey grunts. “‘m sleeping.”

“It’s raining.”

“So?”

“I wanna go outside.”

It’s the look in his eyes that does it, the wonder. Rhodey’s on his feet before he even realizes it. “Okay, Tones.”

They dance in the rain on the roof, and Tony laughs, and Rhodey looks at him, and sees nothing but happiness, and feels nothing but love.

-

Rhodey kisses Tony on his 18th birthday.

Maybe it’s wrong, but the way Tony laughs against his lips and twines his arms around his neck is nothing but right.

“I thought–“

“I lied, genius, I had to,” Rhodey whispers, ready to let go, but Tony just holds him tighter.

“Thank you.”

“For lying?”

“For loving me the way I needed.”

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (6)

St. James Infirmary

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Relationships:

Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Characters:

Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth

Additional Tags:

Temporary Character Death, Murder Mystery, off screen murder, Ghosts, Supernatural - Freeform, Haunting, Horror, Psychological Thriller, Eventual Happy Ending, I promise, Song fic, Halloween Flavored, Identity Reveal, Aged Up, Canon Universe, Mabel Voice: He's Resting, SPOOOKKKYYYYYY

Ao3 | FF.net

--

The night of the visitation, it rained. Like a kick to the gut, a painful reminder of what it was like to fall in love…now was only a soothing presence to losing love. 

The old umbrella in her hand didn’t help either. It was his. Adrien’s. The very same he gave her that day over ten years ago. 

Marinette had agonized over what to wear for too long. It was a wake, so black, right? She had this outfit picked out and everything. A sharp blazer over her little black cocktail dress, with black pumps. Even though it was a wake, it was a wake for her boss, one of the most influential fashion moguls in the world, and she would be taking his place. She had to look her best. 

But then, she changed her mind. It was a social event, yes, and she would be in the public eye and representing the brand, true! 

But it felt gross. 

The cocktail dress was too sexy for a wake, and wearing that much black made her look goth. 

It just wasn’t right. 

Then she saw the dress. A rose pink, knee length dress that flared out as it went down. It had little black polka dots on it. 

And it was Adrien’s favorite. He said so every time she wore it. 

Too peppy for a wake. Too casual, too fun and flirty. But a black cardigan over it, and she felt perfect. 

She could almost hear his voice as she posed in the mirror. 

“I love that dress on you. You look so cute, Marinette.” 

It made tears spring to her eyes. 

So no makeup then. Because she knew she would be crying a lot more tonight. 

“Don’t forget to pack tissues,” Tikki reminded, helpfully.

“Right, thank you, Tikki.” She tucked the little package in her purse. 

With one last pass of the brush through her hair, she was ready. 

So now she stood outside of the manor, the gate open. 

Well folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary

See my little baby there

She's stretched out on a long, white table

Well she looks so good, so cold, so fair

The paparazzi stood nearby with their cameras, ready to swoop in like vultures. 

She must have paused for too long, because they descended on her quickly, shoving mics in her face and asking questions. 

Didn’t they know why she was here? Didn’t they know what she was going through?

An arm reached around her shoulders and started leading her forward. “Alright everyone, that’s enough! Can’t you see she’s not in the mood?” Her rescuer shouted. 

The reporters didn’t pass through the gate, as that would have been trespassing. So thankfully, the crowd was left behind as they moved forward. 

“Thank you,” she said to the unfamiliar man. 

“Of course, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He nodded. 

“You know me?”

“I know of you. Head intern to Gabriel Agreste himself, if I’m not mistaken. I’m from Harper’s Bazaar.” 

“Oh...a reporter.”

“Yes, but I really was just here as a guest to pay my respects. I’ve interviewed both Gabriel and Adrien a few times.”

“I see.”

He led her into the house.

Let her go, let her go, God bless her,

Wherever she may be,

She will search this wide world over,

But she'll never find another sweet man like me.

She was early, as Nathalie had instructed. No other guests were here. Just funeral staff, some family, and two steel caskets.

Two steel closed caskets.

Might make retrieving Adrien’s ring a bit of a problem, but not seeing his face…cold, motionless, and waxy would keep her somewhat sane. 

The man walked with her right up to the casket, the one with Adrien’s picture next to it.

“It’s a shame. That much skill, the absolute genius spread between the two of them. The world as a whole will never be the same.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Any idea what’s going to happen next? Not that this is an interview, I’m just curious.” 

She shrugged, “well, I’ve been offered the position, and everyone wants me to take it...but it’s so…”

“Overwhelming?”

“Yes.” She rested her hand on the casket. “I wish I could have a moment alone with him.” 

“Let me see what I can do.” He smiled, then he called louder, to the room. “The lady would like a few minutes alone, if possible.” 

“Is she family?” A staff member asked. 

“This is Madam Dupain-Cheng, she’s the successor to Gabriel’s empire. She’s practically family!” 

There was no arguing with that, and the group of staff members filed out into the adjacent dining room. 

“Thank you,” Marinette called to the man, still not getting his name.

“Don’t worry about it darling.” And he followed them out.

Marinette glanced around the room, just to make sure she was alone. “Tikki?”

“I’m here!” 

“I need you to keep watch.” The casket had two doors, one on top that would have been open if this was a regular visitation, and one over the legs. She slid the flower arrangement on top over to the bottom section and ran her hand over the edge. She pulled up slightly, and as she feared, it was sealed. 

“It’s locked,” she lamented. 

“Let me try!” Tikki zipped around the casket, and a moment later, it clicked and the cap opened ever so slightly. 

Marinette took a deep breath as her fingers curled under the lip.

“What are you waiting for?” 

“Just…I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to see what he looks like. I don’t want to…” but she put her reservations on hold, and pushed the lid up. 

She choked out a startled gasp. “Oh no…” 

Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches,

Put on a box-back coat and a stetson hat,

Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain,

So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.

Instead of the mangled body of her true love, there was only a pile of sandbags. 

Tikki, also horrified, went over to Gabriel’s casket and phased inside. Then she popped out, “this one is the same!” 

Marinette closed the lid and moved the flowers back into place, her mind moving at a mile a minute. Vaguely, she heard the click of the casket as Tikki put it to rights. 

Marinette was panicking, but quickly calmed herself down. This didn’t mean anything malicious, not yet. Maybe they were cremated and the family wanted to keep it a secret. Or because there’s no graveside service, their bodies had already been buried.

Who was she kidding, something was definitely going on. 

A mystery that was just aching to be solved, but her first priority was to retrieve Adrien’s ring. 

“--A moment alone!” A voice shouted from the dining room.

Marinette whirled around in time to see Felix storming towards her. Did he know? Was she caught?

He brushed past her, “move.” And went directly to the casket, grabbing the lip like she had. 

“Please sir! You’ll damage the casket!” One of the funeral home staff rushed and grasped Felix by the shoulder. “It’s shut and locked, it can’t be opened again.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye!” Felix snarled. “Look at him!” He pointed at the photo on display next to the casket. “He has my face! I deserve to see him one last time!” 

“Sir...he doesn’t look like that anymore. It would be very disturbing to see his remains.” 

Disturbing indeed, considering Adrien wasn’t in there at all.

Amelie was quick to join the group and she consoled her son. “We talked about this. You knew it was going to be a closed casket.” 

“They said the family had time alone. I just...wanted to say goodbye, face to face.” He shook his head and scowled. “He deserved that, at least.” 

Marinette made herself small, feeling like an intruder in this family crisis. But Amelie still saw her and brought her in for a hug.

“How are you holding up, dear?” She asked, pulling away slightly. 

“I’m…I’ve been better.” 

“Of course, I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

Marinette had met Amelie and Felix more than a few times working at Gabriel. As the years went on, they came to visit more and more often. Amelie was always insistent that she call her ‘Aunt Amelie’ like Adrien. It felt weird to break the habit now. 

“Isn’t pink a little too festive for the occasion?” Felix bit. The red from anger in his cheeks had faded. Now he just sounded bitter. 

It was Adrien’s voice…but not. It was a shame Felix sounded so much like him. 

He looked just like him too, minus the slicked back hair and glasses. 

“Adrien really loved this dress,” Marinette whispered. “I know it’s not—I just—“ 

His face softened slightly, relieved that she had Adrien in mind, and not fashion. “Sounds fine to me.”

Even after the disastrous first encounter they had, Felix and Marinette never became friends. He and Adrien certainly got along, or at least appeared to, but Felix and Marinette were only ever cordial. 

It was a wake, after all. He should be nice. He gave her a small smile, one that looked eerily similar to Adrien’s.

Before she could stop herself, she was hugging him. 

He didn’t smell like Adrien at all. He smelled like clean cat litter and laundry detergent, not spicy cologne and the smallest hint of cheese. Belatedly, she realized the cheese smell was probably Plagg’s doing. 

“Uh…” He said awkwardly, before sighing and patting her on the back. 

“I’m sorry,” she pulled away. “Even though…” she trailed off with a blush, embarrassed with what she had done. “You just look like him.” 

“I know,” he shrugged. “I worried about coming. I’m prepared for people to see me and burst into tears. Or hug me, like you did. I get it. As much as I would like otherwise, I’m willing to tolerate it for today.” 

“That’s kind of you.” 

His face softened further. “You loved him, didn’t you?” 

Amelie gasped. “Felix! You can’t just ask things like that!” 

“It’s okay,” Marinette assured, hugging herself. “You’re right. I was—am. I still love him, even though he’s gone.” 

“And…you know what happened?” 

She nodded. “It sucks. And I really wish I could allow one terrible action to wipe everything away…but I knew him. These last two weeks he wasn’t himself. He was cruel to me in a way I had never seen. It just…it wasn’t Adrien.” 

Felix gave her a critical look. “I always assumed my cousin couldn’t hurt a fly. It’s…bizarre, what happened.” 

“It’s not public knowledge,” Amelie reminded. “And it should stay that way.” 

“Who are we protecting by lying about it? The ‘Brand’? The family? Adrien himself?” 

“What are they saying, anyway?” Asked Marinette. 

“They’re saying both Adrien and Gabriel died from an in-home accident.”

“Vague,” said Felix. “Suspicious.” 

“But better than ‘unknown causes’ at least,” said Marinette.  “Maybe it’s selfish, but I want Adrien to be remembered for all the good he did…” As Chat Noir, her brain added, “and not the demons he faced in the end.” 

“Still, I can’t help but wonder what made him snap,” he mused, looking at Marinette. “Do you have any idea what may have caused it?” 

Her mind went back to two weeks, when he had asked her to dinner. He was nervous, and told her he had something to tell her. 

And then that phone call a few nights ago. What had he said? Something about the basement?

“I’m…not sure. I’d have to think about it.” 

“Perhaps you two could consider this mystery another day? Not during the visitation?” Amelie urged. 

“Sorry mom, you’re right.” He glanced back at Marinette. “If you have anything on this, I’d love to hear it. I care deeply for Adrien, and honestly, I’m highly suspicious of these circumstances.” 

Amelie huffed. “Darling, you heard Nathalie, what she saw, what the police found, it’s pretty cut and dry…” 

“People don’t just murder their father’s for no reason! Especially with supposedly flawless mental health!” 

The room grew quiet, as Felix’s outburst was louder than intended. Thankfully, guests had yet to arrive. 

“Sorry. This whole thing…I’ve had enough of death in this lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “I need some water.” 

When he left, Amelie squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t let Felix get to you. It’s just hard for him. He has so much in common with Adrien, it’s a little scary for him.” 

Oh. That made sense. Fear he’d snap too? 

“It was sudden for everyone. We’re all going through it.” 

“They said you were having a moment alone with Adrien. I'll let you get back to it.” She squeezed her shoulder and left her in peace.

So now Marinette was left to wonder what she could possibly do. Where to even start? She didn’t need anymore time with an empty casket. 

An' give me six crap shooting pall bearers,

Let a chorus girl sing me a song.

Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head

So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.

There were a few more guests now, but it was still a little early. She saw a man in a suit arranging flowers. He had a name tag on his lapel. 

As casual as she could, she snuck over to him. “Excuse me, are you the funeral director by chance?”

“Oh? Yes I am. Bill Hunkerson, at your service. How can I help?” 

She had to phrase this very carefully, to not be suspicious. “I’m a very close friend of Adrien’s. He was wearing a silver ring when he died. It doesn’t actually belong to him, and I was wondering if I could have it back.” 

The man turned pale, but plastered on a smile. “Well, he’s probably wearing it now. Unfortunately, after we close the casket, we can’t open it again.” 

She knew that was a big fat lie. And Marinette hated liars. 

She lowered her voice. “Well, since his body isn’t actually in the casket, it shouldn’t be that hard, should it?” 

The man stared at her, wide eyed, no longer smiling. “How did you—“ He frowned. “Look miss, I’m just doing what I’m paid for. I don’t know anything. That ring is probably gone forever, and I’d stop this search now.” He straightened his tie and bowed his head slightly. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

Marinette opened her purse when she was alone. “I don’t know about you, Tikki, but I’ve got a bunch of red flags and alarm bells going off inside my head.” 

“This isn’t good! We need to get that ring!” 

“We need to find out what happened to Adrien’s body!” 

“Yes, of course, that too!”

Marinette gnawed at the inside of her cheek. “Hey, no offense to Plagg, but wouldn’t he know to bring the ring back to me? If he can’t remove it, then wouldn’t he come tell me about it?”

Tikki’s eyes widened. “You’re right! If he died under normal circumstances, yes…but if he was transformed when he died…”

“Then what?”

“Plagg probably would be forced back into the ring. That’s probably why he didn’t come!” 

“Now I’m even more worried and confused.” Marinette crossed her arms. “What if Adrien isn’t actually dead?” 

“What do you mean?”

“What if…he ran away? And Gabriel made it out like he died? What if Gabriel’s still alive too?” 

“It’s a theory, but I don’t know how well it will hold water.” 

She studied the room again, trying not to draw attention to herself. She was supposed to be grieving after all. 

Felix sat in the chairs over by the stairs, his back to the growing crowd. 

Even if they didn’t really get along, two skeptics working together would be better than each on their own. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked. 

“I suppose not.” He sighed. 

Marinette sat in the chair next to him, and sat quietly for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed. She didn’t want to reveal her whole hand, but maybe playing a few cards would be to her advantage. 

Felix beat her to it. He let out a weak chuckle. “I hate this family.” 

What an awful thing to say at wake. “Why’s that?” She asked calmly. 

“They die too quickly. It sounds so awful, I know. But it’s just my mother and I now. Grandparents are long gone, then my Aunt Emilie, then my father, and now them. It sucks and I’m sick of stupid funerals.” 

“It must be hard. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well...I’m a pro at it now.” He was resting his cheek on his hand, and was staring at the corner of a wall, just pointedly avoiding eye contact. Still, she could see he had red in his eyes. Though she chose to ignore it. Felix seemed to be the type to hide his tears. 

“You know...the last time I talked to Adrien, he told me to check the basement.” 

This piqued Felix’s curiosity enough for him to look at her. “Basement? What basement?”

“I suppose here, but I haven’t had the chance to, since you know…all this going on.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense. I used to come to this house all the time. It doesn’t have a basement.” 

“So…maybe at the company?”

“Could be. I wouldn’t know.” 

“Okay, I just wondered...since you were family…” 

He growled. “Yeah, some family.” 

“Do you...want to talk about it?” She offered, really hoping he would take the bait. 

He chuckled again, no humor in his tone. “Might as well, no one around left to hide things from.” He leaned back in the chair. “Gabriel is...was a very private person. I tried to love him, since he was my uncle, but he did a very good job at keeping us at a distance. Adrien was the opposite. We talked often, even when his mom and my dad died and things got rough. Sometimes, it didn’t feel like we were welcomed here. But Adrien so wanted a connection. I could feel it in his hugs when we visited. He was starving, Marinette.” 

Marinette willed herself not to start crying.  

“Mom and I were told by Nathalie that Adrien and Gabriel were caught in a murder-suicide, as enacted by Adrien, early in the morning on the 23rd.”

“Did she tell you where the murder-suicide happened?”   

“Nope, just that it happened in this house. As the only living relatives, she asked if we could come and help with the funeral arrangements.”

“Were you involved in all of it?”

“I thought mom and I did all of it together, but there was one thing that Nathalie insisted on and wouldn’t budge.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Gabriel is going to be interred in the Agreste family mausoleum, but Adrien…” he sighed with disgust. “As punishment, he’s getting an unmarked grave.” 

“What!?”  

“That was the compromise. The truth about the murder-suicide, which I am believing less and less, would be withheld from the public as long as Adrien was…effectively erased from the family line.” 

She couldn’t help the tears that burst forth. “But that’s not fair! He didn’t do anything wrong! He couldn’t’ve!”

“Yeah kid, I know. I agree.” He scowled. “It makes me sick. I hate it. Adrien was suffering in life, and now he’s going to suffer in death.” 

“You don’t think he did it?”

“Do you?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I know what’s been said, and what people saw...but it just can’t be true.” And she had evidence to prove it, in the form of that empty casket.

“You won’t mention I said any of this to my mom, right? She’s also having a hard time, but she tells me I’m in denial.” 

“I won’t say a word.”  

Folks, now that you have heard my story,

Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze;

If anyone should ask you,

Tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues.

--

I’m not sure about next week’s update. I’m going camping and I don't know what the wifi will be like. Fingers crossed!