#mostly that BECK DOESN'T TRUST HIM

[evecolourshock]

Fic again

Beck grimaces under his mask, trying to salvage the situation. He honestly hadn't meant for Able to hear that, tucked as he is in the rafters of the Garage. A mutter under his breath the vocoder had caught and amplified (going to have to change that, there is such a thing as too sensitive).

"He's young, right? One of your betas." Beck lounges along a beam, trying to ooze confidence the way Tron does. The steady, dependable kind, knowing (or pretending) everything's going to be alright. "The one who lost a friend."

Beck's throat closes up a little. Bodhi, Bodhi, Bodhi. In every single one of Beck's rest mode memory fluxes, when he's not too exhausted to have them. Dying in every single one. Derezzed in the street, in the Games, trapped in an Occupation cell or a Rectifier, gunned down, hacked apart, shocked, beaten, tortured-

Beck doesn't sleep any more, not really. Works until he shuts down instead. It's less harrowing that way - he doesn't wake with Bodhi's choked-off scream ringing in his ears if he does that.

Tron's listening in, Beck knows, even though he doesn't know how. Watching, just in case Beck needs a way out. He doesn't want Tron hearing this, but... that part's out of Beck's control, so he does his best to be mature and lets it go.

"You keep an eye on my kids?" Able asks, a low threatening tone in his voice.

"Only the ones that ask me to." Beck rebuffs, hears Able draw a shocked breath. "He...he's trying to do as you ask. But... it's like the Grid's out to get him, some cycles." Beck draws a shaky breath, this time making sure to keep it below the vocoder's detection level. "He's been- heh. Someone doesn't like him, a lot of people don't like me, when you're both up on rooftops and everyone else is resting you tend to get talking."

"He can talk to me." Able sounds wounded. Beck kind of feels bad about what he's going to say next.

"You told a grieving beta who'd just watched his friend be murdered in front of him there was nothing that could be done." Beck tells him quietly. "Rightly or wrongly, that wasn't what he needed to hear. He needed comfort, a promise to make things right, to feel safe... and he got none of it. He doesn't sleep - still hears his friend's screams every time he tries. He was thrown in the Games - I got him out of that, nearly derezzed us both in the attempt but I had to try - and all he got when he stumbled back in here, shaking and scared and having just been forced to derez others or be derezzed himself, was a demand to know where he had been and no chance for him to explain."

"He doesn't feel he can talk to you - that you'll treat his words as anything more than excuses. He just has me, a Program in a mask who also lost someone important and decided I didn't have anything left to lose so I was going to do something about it. I... might be the only thing keeping him alive." Beck's voice drops quieter, closer to that barely-audible whisper. Because it's true - the Renegade is the only reason he hasn't attempted to go out with a bang. That, and Bodhi's memory. "But someone's got to cut that kid some slack and let him be a kid, and even if it's me..." Beck doesn't know what to say next. Tron's a silent, concerned presence in that strange space-between-space the white disc creates, Able an equally silent half-lit shadow at his desk.

"I'd rather it not be. What I do... isn't exactly conducive to a long runtime." Beck smiles ruefully. "He deserves better. But... if I'm what he has, then I guess I'd better figure out how to be good enough."

He leaves then, unable to stay longer both for any hope of even a little bit of broken sleep and to drop off the report on the new tank upgrades Pavel's demanding so Tron can plan around them. Brushes off Tron's more delicate than usual probing with a brittle smile, makes it back to his room through the window just in time to lie on his berth for a few nanos and stare at the ceiling.

He's probably not sleeping this rest cycle, will have to interrupt his shift over and over for micro-naps so he can at least vaguely function (and invariably piss off at minimum Zed for being unreliable). Again.

Beck lets himself drift, despite knowing the derezolution-filled memory fluxes and his shift-start alert are imminent. Just another cycle for the Renegade.

Able: *sigh*. Beck’s a smart kid…but sometimes he does these things that are just so stupid.

The Renegade: maybe you should get off the kid’s ass

Able: What?

The Renegade: WHAT

[rom-e-o]

Imagine Emmrich getting sick or hurt enough he needs nursing for the first time after wifey is in his life.

Ohhh, yes. Emmrich. The always-giving, charitable healer. The eternal gentleman who has built a career on helping students learn, regularly uses his talents to help the dead find peace, risks life and limb to help Rook despite his fear of death, and BUILDS A BODY for a wisp who stays loyally by his side.

That Emmrich, who has pined for love and marriage but never found connection.

That Emmrich, who probably hasn't someone take care of him in decades. Who, if he got sick, always had to tend to himself, despite exhaustion and achiness. When was the last time you think he had someone at his side when he was sick? Probably his mother or father, when he was a young boy.

Maybe Manfred has helped sometimes, but of course, Emmrich doesn't ask much. Maybe for him to make some tea or wake him if someone knocks at the door, but that's not tending to him. But he can fudge it with a cold.

When he is bedbound will illness/injury for the first time since his relationship with Rook, feeling the caring presence of another at his beck and call is probably a little uncomfortable at first. ("D-Darling, I'll get you sick. P-Please don't worry. I-I'll be okay.") He says this while feverish and shaking, a cold sweat casting a sheen over his brow. Yet, he smiles. "Please, g-go enjoy the day, dearest."

He feels guilty of being a burden. He's a man who has always sought connection, and to over-compensate for his 'faults' (and even his age), he pushes himself hard. He likes to feel needed. He likes to GIVE.

So, to be in a position where he is forced to TAKE? He's hesitant. Maybe it makes him feel nostalgia in a horrible, raw way. He strikes me as a man that only feels worthwhile as a person if he's giving his energy (metaphorically or literally) to others. This feeling amplifies as he ages, and especially as he fails to find that love he yearns for so deeply.

Rook, his lovely wife, understands that. So she sets up a post. Manfred helps, of course. They make sure he's comfortable in bed. Plenty of books are placed nearby, even though he mostly sleeps. The window is opened, if the weather is nice-ish. Candles are lit. The fire roars. Plenty of tea is on tap. Even though he can't eat much, Rook brings porridge and potatoes to him.

She brushes his hair, dabs a cloth over his face, and draws him baths when he's strong enough to leave the bed.

"I-I'm sorry, dearest."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"F-For forcing you to care for me like this," he says as she brings a soapy cloth across his face, cleaning the latest sheen of fever-sweat from his brow.

He can't help but feel like an incompetent fool. He hates her seeing him in such a state. What if she sees him looking so weak and pathetic and decides to leave? It's not that he doesn't trust her. It's that his fear of somehow losing her or driving her away is one of the few things that can usurp logic in his mind.

"I don't recall you forcing me," she parries swiftly, lifting one of his toned arms to bring the cloth down the length of it. "In fact, you urged me to leave you and go enjoy my day. You encouraged me to leave with a handsome smile that was almost dashing enough to make me ignore that pesky blue pallor of yours."

He sighs wearily, still unable to look at her. "Even when I'm in such a sorry state, you still bestow those comforting compliments upon me."

"Because you deserve them." She undoes the top buttons of his nightgown and runs the cold cloth over his chest and neck. He sighs in relief, the cold feeling refreshing against his skin. "And you deserve to be cared for. Doted on. Now ... does that feel nice?"

He doesn't open his eyes immediately. Instead, he takes a moment to fill his lungs with air, the shakiness ebbing. Then, his gaze finds hers, hazel eyes blazing more brightly than they have in days. "It feels heavenly."

"Good." She leans down and kisses the tip of his nose. "Not too heavenly, though. I enjoy your company far too much to be without it for long. I'll start clawing the walls."

"Ha! W-Well, I shall endeavor to make a full recovery as swiftly as possible. How could I not, when I have such a sterling nurse?"

That night, Emmrich asks Rook to read to him. He loves the sound of her voice, and he so rarely has the chance to fall to sleep to it. She obliges, of course, reading him "Hard in Hightown", a fast-paced adventure by the infamous Varric Tethras. ("'You harassed a magistrate's widow. And you practically broke down a comte's door.' She turned to glare at him. 'All before dawn!'")  As she reads and acts out the lines with vigor, she hears him react according. He might gasp in shock, or laugh, or roll his eyes at a pun.

All the while, he uses her arm as a pillow, and gazes up at her, the very image of a besotted fool. A besotted fool with some color in his cheeks and a distinct glint returning to his lovely eyes.

[burning-academia-if]

Hello! If our MC was mostly silent, how would the love interests act when the MC would talk to them? Especially earlier in the process of dating when they're not used to the MCs voice and don't expect it.

Rook: It might throw him off, especially if you spent all those years with him being quiet, only to start talking more when they start dating lol I think he's just so used to figuring out what you're feeling/thinking based on body language and facial expressions at this point it does read weird at first for you to actually voice your opinions than him to just figure it out

Beck: He takes it as a sign your more comfortable with him or opening up to him, but he doesn't outwardly react or make a comment on it. It is nice to hear more of your voice though, especially if it is a sign of trust

Rhea: It registers slow at first. At some point, the two of you are just relaxing and finally unwinding after a long day and talking about whatever and it hits her just how much you've been talking lately? To others, it wouldn't be considered much, but she knows how you were before and she can sense the jump. It can't be a bad thing, and she worries if she says anything she'll make you uncomfortable, so she keeps the observation tucked away

Zoe: They're so used to be quiet themself as well as interacting with their little sister who is nonverbal via sign that before this point I think they'd have developed a habit of accidentally slipping into sign with you without thinking lmaO I think the first time you spoke it was like a jump scare to them asjksj and when you start talking more during dating, that's when they take it in stride

Lars: "Don't force yourself," is his immediate response aflkdaf Despite how it sounds, there is genuine concern somewhere deep down that you are trying to present yourself differently at first or are trying to force yourself to be more talkative, especially since he's fine with you never really talking if you don't want to

???: Honestly, I don't think they'd notice lol A side effect of being in your head is they got more of your internal monologue/thoughts/feelings/etc so even if outwardly you hardly spoke, inwardly there was probably still a lot going on. I think it'd only register how little you spoke prior when it was mentioned by someone else how much more you were talking around them

[fatuismooches]

Hi, uhm, i'm someone who has been lurking around for a while.. Mostly because i'm far too awkward to ever interact directly, but i've decided to gather the courage to ask.. Or, rather share my thoughts

I just had ACL reconstruction surgery with my meniscus as well, and i am in absolute horrible discomfort/pain, i've been entertaining myself with what my favorite characters would do to support their s/o after a similar situation, yk.. For comfort,

Dottore finding different medicine to block the pain, or recording the progress made every day.. Actually he probably did the surgery himself..

Pantalone using his wealth to buy products that would ease the pain, medicine.. Moving his desk into his s/o's room just to monitor them himself.. Or something like it

Capitano helping his s/o with mobilisation, getting around or just being a pillar his s/o could depend on, all fluff.. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read that, i'd like your thoughts on it..

-unlabeled anon (for now)

Dottore would never trust anyone else to handle something so important, as both your doctor and your lover he is more than capable of taking care of you. You're thankful for this, knowing you're in skilled hands, but of course, you still can't help but be scared of undergoing surgery. Dottore, not being the best with these matters, would just hold you and reassure you that it would be over before you know it. Unfortunately, for all of his skill, he still can't exactly stop the pain afterward, but he still tries to find a solution. He is not a scholar for no reason. He would experiment with different mixtures and formulas, not resting until he managed to make something that's better than the last. Which you know of but can't exactly stop him from overworking, but with enough begging you can convince him to take a break and cuddle with you. During these breaks, he would always question you regarding your current state, which you love him for, but you would still like to have a normal conversation with him! The segments as well, they always pop in regularly to check in on you. They make sure you're comfortable and have your needs met in as many ways as they can. Zandy too, he would be more than willing to be your little helper and at your beck and call. Not wanting you to strain yourself.

Pantalone would spare no expense if it meant you could feel even the slightest bit more comfortable. Of course, he consults with only the best of the best to get the best possible recommendations. He certainly doesn't see a problem with spending his money this way, even if you feel a bit guilty he's spent this much on you again (not just the medical stuff, but also numerous gifts and services he has provided for you) but Pantalone would always shush you by kissing you. You're his lover, it's only natural that he makes sure only the best. And he will see to that. Pantalone usually likes keeping his work life away from his personal one, so as to focus all of his attention on you, but this is different. Good thing the bedroom is big enough to fit his office stuff. He also doesn't let Fatui agents come in so as to not bother or disturb you (though they are panicking over how to relay messages to the Harbinger, he gets a lot of papers slipped under the door for a while.) He keeps an eye on you more than you think, you don't really know how he multitasks like that but you're thankful regardless.

Capitano would initially be scared to hold you - you're weak right now and he's scared of accidentally hurting you. But even he can see how much you need him right now so he manages to get over his fear. He's super gentle with you, it seems uncharacteristic of a man like him but he can't help it. He wants to help you as much as someone like him can, even though he's wholly inexperienced and awkward with such things. Capitano would kind of be a large guard dog with the touch of a little puppy, he's a silent man in general so many times you find him staring at you silently as if to ask what he can do to ease your pain. Another one who's at your beck and call except he's not the best but he's learning. He's the one who has made a whole checklist and reads it off in the same voice every day, it honestly gets comedic eventually and then he's confused why you're giggling. All in all, he's not used to being so gentle, but he's always willing to do so for you.

[whumpbug]

new ocs!!!

hi gang!!!!!!!!!!!! i've been hinting at more characters for a bit and HERE THEY ARE!!! i might try to use the whumperless event to intro them a bit more, but if anyone has any drabble requests until then feel free to send em in! and if you have any clarifying questions, PLEASE ask them!!!

as you can tell, i love westerns. i love cowboys. i NEEDED a cowboy/wild west setting to whump in so i made these guys (yes i am aware their color palletes are just simon and archie in a different font. i am a one trick pony.)

sidenote: rdr2 fans, you're gonna love this (these two are practically rdr2 ocs) (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

onto the boys (men?? we'll go with men.) this post is embarassingly long. strap in guys.

picrew here (though i couldn't find one that captured their looks the way i envisioned.... sigh i need to start drawing again. anyways, i included some outfits to go along with them!

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eugene (gene) delaney

age: 28

height: 6'2

occupation: deputy sherriff (his town is called Whiteridge)

description: gene is. well, for lack of better words, he has a stick up his ass. that is to say that he is very particular about things, namely the safety of his town and the activities that go down in it. he cares very much about keeping the streets safe from gangs and criminals because his mother was killed by a gang when he was just a child and he knows the dangers of having bad people run around unrestrained. also, the sherriff he works under is crooked and useless, so gene is left with a lot of responsibility in terms of managing Whiteridge. he's strong-willed and intelligent, but very morally conflicted about many things. he wants whats best for his people, but is controlling everything with an iron grip really the best way to go about it?

here is his outfit that you'll usually see him in!

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cassidy "silver" mccoy

age: 27

height: 6'0

occupation: outlaw/one of "montana's boys"

description: cassidy gets his nickname "silver" from his silver tongue. he's been known to talk his way out of death more times than he can count. he runs with a gang lead by a man named welles montana, and he is one of montana's most respected men. he was taken in by montana when he was very young, and believes he owes him his life. he trusts him blindly and is convinced evetything he does is for a good cause, even if sometimes it's questionable. he greatly enjoys his job and loves seeing the fruits of his labor in the form of hungry kids getting to eat for the first time in weeks, or single mothers able to afford a new dress. he did not grow up wealthy, so what he does is very personal. despite wanting to appear smooth and charismatic, he is a deeply feeling person that sort of lets his emotions rule him.

here is his typical outfit!

a bit about montana's gang: they lead robin hood-esque type heists where they exclusively take from the wealthy to give to the poor, but their methods are often violent and destructive. also, montana himself is not a very good man but cassidy doesn't necessarily know that. montana is sort of leading a double life where he spends part of his time with his gang and the other part with the wealthy assholes they're trying to take down. none of his gang know he is getting the best of both worlds and betraying them all. he's very manipulative and acts as a whumper in this story. cassidy is at his beck and call, and follows orders often without question.

also, there is a rival gang lead by a man named o'malley. they are your typical old western gang with no strict morals, sort of just trying to get the most money they can. members of o'malley's gang act mostly as whumpers as they are much more harmful and destructive than montana's boys, and have it out for cassidy specifically.

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their relationship/more background info:

cassidy and gene have a bit of a cat and mouse thing going on. cassidy often pulls heists with his boys in plain sight and since gene is the deputy, he's the one sent to bring him into custody. the two spend quite a bit of time together because of it. (cassidy is an escape artist. he is never locked up for more than a few days. gene hates this.) to gene, cassidy is infuriating. he believes you can't fight fire with fire and that cassidy is just causing more problems with his violent approach to "helping others"

cassidy on the other hand, loves to tease and provoke gene. when they first meet, it's while cassidy is locked up in a jail cell. he clocks how "stuck up" gene is, and sees it as a challege to try and piss of gene as much as he can and get away with it. he knows and he and gene actually have very similar goals: protect the people that can't protect themselves, but gene's approach feels too slow and ineffective to cassidy. still, he respects his dedication and never actively wants to cause him harm. regardless, cassidy's loyalty to montana is stronger than any respect he has for gene (AT FIRST), so the two have an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers type thing going on

as for a silly detail, even though the two men are less than fond of eachother, their horses are infatuated with eachother. they seriously have the biggest crushes on eachother, and make it known that they are upset when they have to be seperated.

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BONUS here are their respective horses:

this is calliope, gene's mare. she is sweet as sweet can be, very gentle and extremely, totally spoiled by gene.

this is scotch, cassidy's gelding. he is opinionated and stubborn and only answers to cassidy (and even then, it's only about half the time)

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thank you so much for listening to be ramble! i plan to have at least one fic of these guys during the event, maybe more, but i'm honestly so excited for them. i've been wanting to make ocs like them for a LONG time and here they finally are!! i hope you all enjoy!

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[osamua]

CW: Bandages

Pairing: Any masc reader/ male identified reader

Pronouns: he/him

★Headcanons

○ When you guys first started dating, he was like, "Am I really okay to even date such a hot and handsome guy like you?" Or "How could someone like you even be with me...!?"

○ He was your friend first, so it wasn't like you guys had just met, and that made the trust of your relationship grow.

○ When you were friends, he'd mostly just flirt in a jokingly manner all the time until you caught on.

"Oh wait...shit- do friends joke about this?" You thought for the millionth time that day.

○ He'd call you "My boy, my sweet,my love" or any pet name that he feels he can only ever call you.

○ definitely says 'sweetheart' most of the time, and other than that, he will barely say your name unless faced with serious matters.

○ He'd never thought he would have such a close relationship with you. So saying these names made his feel even luckier to have you.

○ Absolutely just loves to hear your ideas and philosophies about anything and everything.

○ based on that, he loves studying you so much that sometimes his brain gets fried that he doesn't pay attention to the conversation at all.

○ His heart completely short circuits when you give him gifts as a thank you for being with you.

○ loves kissing you on your cheek when you're in public, or when you visit his agency, he can't keep his sticky fingers to himself.

○ will ramble on to atsushi and kunikida about how much his boyfriend (you) means to him every two seconds!

○ he loves to take naps on you. Physically, on top of you with his head pushed into your beck or chest. Sliding his arms around your neck into a comforting embrace.

○ His hair is so soft and fluffy that you can never not to touch his hair, and he loves it too

○ He will get sad when he has a mission and leaves you hanging for a while. So, when he comes back, he gives you all the treats and love you deserve.

○ Dazai loves the feeling of your hands no matter what size they are. He also let's youwrap his bandages for him. That's why they're always too perfect and tight.

○ When you guys take baths, he's always the one to hold you and ask random questions about your day. As for cleanliness, he just shares that Mens Dove shampoo 5 in 1 with you. But hey, it's cheap and 5 in 1 ??

[insanescriptist]

Hi Izzy! I'm not sure if this has been asked before, but why does Ganauche III have a Sun Guardian flame bond with Vongola Nono? And why is it uneven/unhealthy? I've reread Umei's fics and KHR and I can't see where the bond was stated.

Long story short, Ganauche the 3rd really wanted to belong -in fic he was originally meant to go to one of Nono's sons as a Guardian- and Vongola Nono seemingly accepted him once he needed a new Lightning post-Cradle.

So Ganauche went all in and Nono went very superficial. Hence the uneveness of it.

As for why it's uneven/unhealthy well... okay. So they accepted the power imbalance ie Nono is Ganauche's boss.

However it's also well known that Flame Bonding isn't just Boss and Subordinate; the other Flames are Valued for their abilities and insights and connections. Political Appointments especially are valued for their insights and connections and abilities. Ganauche was meant to be a Political Appointment. His famiglia invested in his Flame Training.

That Nono and Ganauche actually Bonded? Ganauche's famiglia was thrilled. (Gotta remember that in-fic, depending on fic, Lambo got all but sold to Tsuna through the CEDEF contract to accomplish getting one of their famiglia members into Tsuna's immediate circle.)

Nono however, only truly values two of his Guardians, Coyote and Nougat. You know, the only two who are his age. The others, eh.

They're there. They've sworn loyalty and obey. They're trusted with tasks and to see them done, or enable Nono to be able to do them himself, by whatever means may be necessary.

Ganauche... well.

Even in the little we see him in the manga, he gets stuck with the more menial stuff. Like you could tie that into in-fic Lightning training being shit and not expecting much out of someone who was trained in the Vongola Lightning training program on Nono's part.

So Nono's not really valuing anything of what Ganauche brings to the Vongola and to him, as Nono Vongola or even as Timoteo personally.

Which is shitty employer behavior and more shitty when you're basically a version of soul bound to another. Especially as it appears that Nono doesn't respect Ganauche as an individual in fic, as Ganauche has been dumped by girlfriends by missing dates for being at Nono's beck and call. For again, menial stuff.

When you have a relationship and one party fails to respect the other's needs and wants, that is a boundary violation. Is this inherently unhealthy or abusive? No. Sometimes it's called being an asshole. Is it still emotional neglect to a person who should be brought into your confidences because you're now spiritually bound together? Yes. Is it disrespect to Ganauche's person? Yes. His position? Yes. His famiglia? Yes.

Ganauche's relationship with Nono isn't actively and purposefully abusive. It's neglectful and mostly accidentally demeaning. It is harmful to Ganauche's mental state and his social life over time.

Tl; dr: Ganauche wants a real Guardian and Sky relationship and Nono just wants a placeholder to do stuff for him sometimes.

[yanderes-galore]

Based on a poll I did. I wanted to do a short story but couldn't find enough ideas for a plot. This is mostly just me spilling potential fic ideas. Lemme know if you all like this idea :D

Yandere! Demon Lord! Reinhardt Concept/Ideas

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Attempts at forced marriage, Dubious relationship, Possessive behavior, Violence, Implied murder, Ownership.

A lot of this has to be HC because the actual even doesn't say much.

In the event all we know is Reinhardt takes the role as a Demon Lord who wants to rule the world with demons.

He lives on Mount Malevento which is like a volcano.

That's about all we get as even his role isn't taken seriously, lol.

So I feel you could write him in two ways.

A sadistic demon lord who wants to rule the world and make life Hell for everyone.

Or he's a bit misunderstood, actually being rather lighthearted rather then sadistic but keeps the same goal of ruling the world.

The second idea would bring out Reinhardt's usual persona more.

Either way how you'd most likely meet through kidnapping.

Y'know, it's the traditional tale of a royal being kidnapped by a dragon or demon.

You could be a royal, a close friend of the Queen, or maybe even a civilian.

You're picked seemingly by random or because Reinhardt sees you as a bargaining chip.

I feel the dynamic would be you two slowly getting to know each other while you're a prisoner.

For this I'd imagine Reinhardt has a castle on top of Mount Malevento.

He'd keep his darling there in a cell until he can trust them.

Of course I could have this concept and story go the usual way of sadistic demon with unfortunate darling.

But I'm actually partial to the idea of Reinhardt being misunderstood.

Like, for a Demon Lord he's strangely jovial.

Even though he has you in a cell, he comes to speak to you himself and often asks all about you.

It's strangely innocent as he makes sure you have perfect hospitality.

Demonic servants are at your beck and call because their Lord has a strange adoration towards you.

This version of Demon Lord! Reinhardt is my favorite as it still feels like Reinhardt?

He gives you grande meals to your taste, he offers you clothes, and punishes any other demon who lays a claw on you.

For looking like such an intimidating ruler, he really is softer than he looks.

There is still some sadism but he treats you well.

I imagine this could be a darker version of "Beauty and The Beast" except Darling is GN.

A twist that could be done is Reinhardt is actually just acting really sweet to tempt you.

That could add in incubus elements along with other ideas of "temptation" usually involved with traditional demons.

Perhaps Reinhardt is actually slowly making you used to him.

Soon you're not in a cell and instead in your own room, decked out in reds and blacks while lined with gold.

Reinhardt makes everything seem like a dream.

Who knew the big scary "evil" Demon Lord was actually such a nice guy?

Reinhardt's plan is probably to make you fall for him willingly.

He'll go through the slow a meticulous courting process... then maybe even convince you to marry him.

That would mean all his sweetness is just for his own benefit in the end.

It could all be a facade just so he can get you as his little spouse.

Imagine if you began to realize his true nature?

You've seen how he treats all the other demons, he's brutal.

Yet he's so sweet with you?

Like he isn't a corrupt demon who murders?

I think if you stopped being receptive to his jovial and sweet persona he'd swap his tune rather quickly.

Once he realizes he isn't winning you over anymore you'll probably see the more fierce persona.

You're going to love him like he planned, like it or not...!

"Do you really think you can ignore me that easily, dear?"

I imagine if you rebel he's going to not mind giving you Hell.

He may berate you more or be more forceful since you aren't complying.

He's given you everything and you toss it back in his face?

Unbelievable.

Reinhardt would be the type to force you into his lap while on his throne.

He feels you belong to him.

He tried being nice, he tried treating you like you were equals...

But that isn't working, is it?

As a result, he'll just need to rush things.

Soon you'll learn fighting him is pointless.

A Demon Lord always gets what he wants.

He'll be treated as a king!

Even if you'll no longer consent to marriage willingly, that can change.

I feel this would be a good way to incorporate Reinhardt being sadistic while also being himself.

Go along with things and you'll be treated like royalty by the large demon.

Despise him and fight... then he'll show you how real demons act.

Overall, Demon Lord! Reinhardt could ironically make your life Heaven with the cost being your freedom and loyalty to him.

Or he could make your life Hell if you try to leave him and his generous hospitality.

[yukidragon]

What was Bo like with his flings? Was he rough with them when having "fun"? What would he do if one of his flings developed romantic feelings for him and is jealous of Barbie and wants to harm her?

Oh ho, you want to know some of the kinky details do you? Well let me slap on a quick warning and tag people before we get started.

Content Warning: this post contains talk of criminal activities, violence, murder, sex, and rough sex including kinks like biting, clawing, blood play, hunting, degrading, and breeding. All sex will be fully consenting by all parties involved no matter how rough it gets.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

We all know how much of an animal Bo is as a digital pet, but in the Mafia AU he had a lot more time to act on those animal instincts without the plastic egg to confine him. He's spent years hunting people down like a dog, often catching them through scent alone. He's ripped and torn into people with his fangs and claws, relishing in the power he wields and the excitement that the fear of his prey brings him. He's grown to enjoy the taste of blood and the smell of fear.

Sex for Bo was for similar animalistic gratification. He used people in the same way that he was always used, without affection or attachments to get in the way. If he found someone attractive who was open to letting him have his way with them, he would pounce on the opportunity and them. Naturally, he would always make it crystal clear to whoever he slept with that he was in control and that they were just his fuck toy until he got bored with them. If they weren't okay with that, then he'd go elsewhere to get his dick wet.

Bo had yet to bond with anyone emotionally until he found his puppy. He never found anyone he could trust or even just wanted to trust. He was on a leash since the day he was created, constantly at others' beck and call without a single care for his feelings. He was made to be a killer, forced to fight and obey. It was all he was allowed to know. If he didn't, the consequences would be pain... and if he was deemed useless, he would be put down like a dog.

Inside, Bo is a very scarred individual, though he won't let anyone know it. He shows confidence and abrasiveness to cover up that soft scared puppy inside him that just wanted to be loved but was always denied. He doesn't even admit to himself that he has a softer side at all at this point. As far as he's concerned, that weak puppy he used to be was mauled to death not long after he was born.

Bo knew all too well what happened to the others who were created like him and what their fate was if they were weak, useless, and fought too hard against their creator's leash.

In comparison to the scientist that first made him, Jack is a better master for Bo... relatively. I haven't ironed out the details of how the switch over went down exactly, but it involved a conflict with the scientist that made Bo, as well as other experiments like Simoun. Bo was almost killed in the ensuing scuffle between the scientist's group and the Blouin Family, but Jack saw potential in keeping Bo around. Bo just needed to be trained to a new master.

The scientist was a sadistic monster, experimenting with humans and using them as playthings. They were someone who dabbled in biological and cybernetic enhancements with the intent to improve humanity. They didn't have any morals or care for their fellow humans and "recycled" the failures that didn't quite make the cut. Bo was always balancing on the edge of a knife when under the scientist's control.

Jack allows Bo a bit more freedom and with less restrictions, mostly as a reward for good behavior. Jack has a much better sense of when to use the carrot or the stick to get people to do what he wants, and of course he has quite the silver tongue. Bo dislikes having a master holding his leash at all, but he saw potential in using Jack to get what he wanted. Jack is aware that Bo isn't content in being on a leash, but he can work with it.

Bo did try to seduce Jack early on, but Jack shut that down immediately. Bo learned quickly his new boss does not like to be touched by anyone.

In retrospect, Bo decided it was for the best he didn't sleep with Jack. There's no doubt his master would dominate him in bed, and he can't abide by that.

Bo constantly lives under the control of others. He's not going to let that happen to him when he's blowing off steam too.

Bo isn't afraid to call an end to sexy times if the person he's seducing refuses to be dominated by him and wants him to be the submissive one instead. He has a desperate need to be in control, and he refuses to give it up to anyone. He uses people to get off and make himself feel more powerful than he actually does about himself deep down. He especially likes it if the person he's sleeping with is intimidated or afraid of him as well as being aroused, though he never does anything without their consent.

Bo refuses to take away a person's ability to consent when it comes to sex. He'll be a terror in the bedroom, but only for someone who is into that sort of thing. He's lived a life of his own consent stripped away from him. He won't do it to anyone else when it comes to sex. He'll tease and seduce, even while he makes it clear how dangerous he is, how easily he could hurt them. He's in control, and he gets off on making them beg him to do such dirty things to them.

Of course, when it comes to pure violence with no sex involved, consent doesn't matter. You can beg Bo not to hurt you, but if you're a target for his master or have something he wants in his own plans to get his freedom, well... you better hope he gets bored of chasing you so he doesn't draw out your suffering for long.

Such is life in such a brutal and bloody world of organized crime.

Bo loves to be the hunter both in and out of the bedroom. He's got a good nose, and he's damn good at tracking people down. The thrill of the hunt makes him feel alive. He's in control and no matter what tricks his prey pulls, he'll always catch them in the end.

When Bo finally catches his prey, he loves to taunt them and take a bite, often ripping out entire chunks out of them in a gruesome, bloody fashion. Of course, during sexy times he only bites as hard as his partner will let him, but he does enjoy the taste of blood. He'd be a fan of bloodplay should his partner consent to it.

Sex and violence both give Bo a lot of similar thrills. He gets off on being the alpha dog in total control of another person's life. Hunting someone he plans to kill gives him the same sort of euphoria that he gets when having sex. He's in total control of someone else. What happens to them is up to him.

In some ways Bo enjoys violence more than sex. He doesn't have to care what the other person wants when he's out to hurt or kill them. Their life is in his hands as if he was their god.

Still, not even the most exciting kill can give the same euphoria as a good orgasm.

It's also not the same as being truly wanted by someone.

Bo can be pretty rough in the bedroom, giving bites, digging his claws into hips, leaving bruises and cuts behind.. He can be a real animal, howling, snarling, and growling. He also enjoys degrading his partners, getting off on reminding them that he's the one in control and they're the desperate slut begging for his cock.

Understandably, Bo can be a bit too intense for some people. It's not uncommon for a fling to suddenly call it quits in the middle of sexy times because Bo was too much of an animal for them to handle.

Although Bo isn't a fan of being blue balled, he's not going to stop them if they want to leave. Annoyance is covered up by his cocky attitude, and he'll sooner taunt them for missing out on a good thing than let himself reflect that their rejection might hurt him or that he is actively pushing others away.

His flings don't matter to him, so it doesn't matter if they abandon him.

Refusing to let others in emotionally shields Bo from the world, but it also prevents him from sincerely connecting with anyone. It leaves him with a hole inside that just keeps getting deeper and deeper, leaving him endlessly wanting. The hole is patched over briefly by his flings, as he gets to savor the feeling of being desired, even if only for his body, but it never lasts.

That sort of impermanence tends to lead to Bo getting bored of his partners rather quickly. There's a few people he sleeps with on a semi-regular basis - think maybe once or twice a month - but most of the time he's hunting for someone new. Being desired by more people, hunting down a reluctant prey and making them beg to be taken by him is more thrilling than already conquered territory.

Sometimes Bo's flings have wanted more from him than just sex, and he's always quick to shut that down. He made it clear from the start that he's only there to fuck. He's a dog that won't be tied down to anyone. If they can't handle it, then he's gone.

It's entirely possible there could be at least one person who pretends to be okay with this arrangement, but secretly hopes that they can be something more to Bo one day.

Of course, chances are if someone in such deep denial found out about Bo's feelings for Barbie, that might drive them crazy.

Bo isn't going to let anyone hurt his puppy. By the time he's yandere for Barbie, he's willing to torment or kill just about anyone who lays a hand on her.

Although Bo isn't loyal to his flings, he'll at least do the courtesy of giving them a warning once he catches wind of something foul. He'll make it very clear that if he gets even a sniff of them thinking of doing anything to his puppy, they're going to find out just how sharp this hunting dog's fangs really are.

If a verbal threat alone isn't enough, then maybe a broken bone or two will send a better message.

If they actually hurt or nearly kill Barbie though... Ho boy, Bo isn't going to show mercy, even if they have history together. He's a man who eliminates threats. Permanently.

Over time, Bo feels less interest in sleeping with anyone else as his obsession with Barbie grows. Even when he slept with someone else during this period of time, he finds it less enjoyable than it should be. He notices the emptiness of it more, which makes him aware that it isn't really what he wants. Only by imagining his current partner is Barbie does he get some of the spark back. It becomes more of just a fantasy about all the things he plans to do with her once his puppy finally submits to him.

Still, it's not the same. His fantasies never quite have the same spark Barbie has. Bo can never quite get her right in his fantasies. He can imagine her whimpering and mewling, begging to be fucked shamelessly like any of his flings, but there's a dissonance that takes him out of the moment. It's not her, and he can't quite match his fantasies to her, especially if the person he's screwing at the time ruins the fantasy by complaining about him calling out another person's name.

Eventually, Bo finds more satisfaction in his own hands than in another random person's bed. Being with someone else isn't the same as bantering with Barbie. There's a tension in the air whenever they're together that is irresistible to him. Her eyes are always full of fire, and he can't help but be drawn to them. She knows she is weaker than him, but she makes up for it in being clever, and she refuses to let him or anyone else break her strong spirit. It's hard not to admire her for that.

There's also this itch Bo feels when he sees how surprisingly gentle Barbie is with her family. He spies on her and catches these candid moments. Although Barbie is prickly with most everyone, for her family she has another side, a protective and even sweet side. It's rare and precious, only for a select few, and she'll fight tooth and nail to keep them safe.

Barbie knows who she is and what she wants. She won't let anyone stop her. She is fierce and will fight the entire world. Yet, when she loves someone, she can show such a tenderness that Bo can't help but want for himself.

Bo wants that side of Barbie. He wants all sides of her. His obsession drives him to the point that eventually he'll be willing to submit himself to someone else for the first time ever. She's the first person he's ever truly loved. He wants so, so much more than just to conquer her in bed. He wants her everything... and he wants a future with her where he can get to experience every side of her that she keeps hidden from the world.

Barbie unlocks Bo's breeding kink. He never wanted kids before, knowing they'd be messed up mutants like him. His life was shit and he had no intention of creating more pups like him to be forced into a life of blood and violence.

But the idea of pups with those beautiful eyes full of fire like Barbie's... Bo can't help but want that. He wants that soft domestic life that Barbie gets to experience with her family, only with him and their children. The two of them are strong, so their pups would be strong as well.

The pups could also grow up knowing softness as well. They could know... love.

Bo could finally know love.

That love Barbie shows her family... Bo wants that. He wants that so badly, but even more. He wants to be the only one she truly needs. He wants her to obsess over him, desire him, be willing to destroy the world for him. He loves her so much that he'll do anything to get her love... even if it makes him do the unforgivable - be weak and submit to someone else of his own volition.

For the first time... Bo allows himself to dream of the future, of the family that he always wanted when he was that weak little puppy who was naïve and innocent... who still didn't yet know why he was created or what the world was really like.

Of course... Bo will be having a difficult time accomplishing his dream while constantly being at odds with Barbie. Her stubbornness and fierce determination draw him in, but also keep him at arm's length. He's got quite the uphill battle ahead of him.

Though, not quite as much as the version of the Mafia AU where Barbie is a singer. Really, that'd be quite interesting if they were flirting and sparks were flying before things become complicated when Alice suddenly gets inducted to the Blouin family...

Hmm... You know I wonder if I could blend the two together...

But that's for another post. I hope you enjoyed this spicy Bo-centric ramble about a very scarred dog that hides just how desperate he is for love behind a mask of violence and arrogance.

[bardsoup]

On a 10 Investigation Check, you come across a well-loved book of paper ruled for writing music. Inside are mostly unfinished songs; lyrics scribbled and rewritten dozens of times, indecisive chord progressions, some pages torn out completely. In between these bardic musings, though, hidden amongst the dissonance, are what appears to be journal entries penned in hasty script. 

Who would leave their private journal out in the open like this? You wonder. Someone who feels they have nothing to hide, perhaps. Or someone who doesn't think hard enough about these things. 

Your curiousity gets the better of you, and you flip to the next entry you find. 

I'm beginning to think I'm a cruel joke the Gods are playing on the world. It's not normal for all of this madness to follow someone's step. If this is what I'm supposed to be doing, why am I so bad at it? I can't even help people properly. 

I pray that Roan's heart stays soft despite what he knows now. I hope that leaving the necklace with him helps him heal. I hope this shit town is kind to him, or that he can find somewhere else to be.

Kova and Merc BECK haven't been acting right since yesterday. They've never acted right, really. Kova's always had something to hide, and I've tried my best respectful about it all, I really have. This is different, though. Something's happened that they aren't telling us. 

I always have this feeling that they don't trust me to know things. I suppose they're right, considering what I've done now. I hope Blue SHE finds a safe place to lay low for a while. I don't know what I'd do if she got caught because of me. 

Kitty is puzzling. I don't know what to make of her. She knows things and she doesn't care to share them. It's odd that nobody finds the talking to herself strange. Am I just being an ass? No. No, it IS weird. They're just being polite, I suppose. Or they're afraid of an answer. I'll figure it out for myself. 

I can see the mountains from my window. I can almost hear the hum of Mum's tavern- MY tavern. I miss my bed. I miss the smell of the earth. I miss Mum, my whole family. 

Later, we leave to this wretched, water-rotted town. Not a moment too soon. I'll be glad to leave the smell of fish and salt behind me. I don't know where we'll go next, but anywhere is better than here if you ask me. 

I can't shake this doubt, though. I'm not convinced that this is what I'm meant to be doing. But who am I to argue with a God? 

I just hope Tem was right. For everyone's sake. 

You shut the journal quickly, and set it back exactly as you found it. Whoever this belongs to, what they have going on is none of your business.

[crispy-buddies-bakery]

I have gained the trust of the Pond Dino, who said they wanted to be called Beck, and the Stardust gave me xyr name! They wanted to be called Cosmo!

Cosmo still won't let me get close, bu he accepted some treats I left out. He doesn't seem incredibly damaged, mostly a few cracks or dents.

I have observed them going into xyr more avian-like form, and was wondering if that was to do wtih stress, or if injuries didn't transfer to that second form, or if maybe he was showing off to Beck?

I see, I am quite happy to see them now a little bit better in your company!

thats odd, Most Stardusts will only transform into their avian form if they feel threatened or in battle, perhaps they are quite stressed but it is impossible to tell

the key is communication, try to speak to Cosmos on what is the matter and ask if you can do anything to help him or at the very least, ease him of what he is going through.

[evecolourshock]

I had Thoughts (hi OP by the way, your art is amazing and I hope you don't mind?)

Beck doesn't trust the User.

Granted, according to Tron trust even for Users should be earned rather than given, but this one is even more confusing than most and Beck doesn't like it.

The first time he'd met User_SamFlynn, Beck had felt distrust and terror seize his circuits like no one else had managed to elicit. User_SamFlynn was a creation of User_KevinFlynn, just like CLU, and this one had all the powers the tyrant had coveted. If this User chose to crush the Grid under his thumb, he could do so in nanos.

Beck had stood tall that meeting, face carved from stone like his mentor had taught him and seething. Every analysis he ran screamed that this was a threat and needed to be eliminated - the only reason he had stuck to glaring instead of fighting was Tron's steady hand on his shoulder. He honestly doesn't remember much of what had been discussed, too busy fighting his own combat processes honed over countless cycles (fighying the urge to derez - too many deletions on his hands but that had been the cost of survival), just barbed words and the User storming off in a huff, trailed by an apologetic ISO_Quorra.

It had taken half a millicycle for Beck's hands to stop shaking afterwards.

So many are singing the User's praises, how he's fixing the Grid, restoring faith in Users at large - rumours of bringing in other Users, so they could help too - and undoing Clu's corruption.

Beck's waiting for the executioner's disc to show. Steeling himself for it to come bearing the face of a friend.

Because Quorra had outed him as the Renegade to the User, with no care for how he felt about an identity he'd still kept secret this long being exposed like that. Because yes Tron was back, but he'd been restored by the User, and Tron had been fine (if injured) before CLU had triggered his hack and set the twisted shell on the unsuspecting Argon populace and had only barely managed to avoid exposing or derezzing Beck by virtue of Beck not being there.

Because Paige had nearly derezzed him for being who and what he is, and while her derezolution at his hands had been an accident he'd never really recovered from having to strike someone he'd been close to.

Because Beck's tired of betrayals, and this time would let the disc hit because he's done with adding to the voxels on his hands.

User_SamFlynn hasn't done anything yet though. Beck hasn't even seen him after that tense first meeting, the User going out of his way to avoid Tron's successor.

It sets Beck on edge.

Quorra tried to mediate, like she hadn't taken all of Beck's hard work at a secret identity and set it on fire. He'd snapped at her about some things not being hers to tell, and the contrite look he'd received had been little comfort compared to the looming fear of how short his future would be. A thousand cycles of subterfuge and missed shifts and hidden scars, countless near-misses and even more missions, torn apart with five words. No, he would not be forgiving Quorra, and he would not be trusting User_SamFlynn any time soon.

After all, the Renegade still has a lot of work to do.

Which, of course, means that the one time he's actually able to get mostly through a shift without interruptions or Mara breathing down his neck is the one shift the User comes stumbling in on. Because that's the way Beck's luck works. He prays to the Grid for strength.

"Uh, I can come back later-?" User_SamFlynn starts, but not only is he unsure he's slurring. Beck turns, runs a clinical eye over the User. Helmet broken, not retracted. Eyes slightly glassy, swaying on his feet, abrasions on one side leaking User life liquid (he can afford to lose a little, Beck knows from Tron, but it's better not to). Gridsuit armour worn away.

A crash, then. Falling off a lightcycle somehow.

"No." Beck crosses the room in three strides, shoulders set broad - too much like the Renegade for this setting, but comforting enough to feel safer than his normal slouch. "With me, now."

User_SamFlynn makes as if to protest, but the raised eyebrow Beck's had used on him many a time forces the User to acquiesce.

The abrasions are easy enough, as the Gridsuit protected the User from the worst of the sliding damage. But the User is definitely concussed, and unfortunately Beck's the only one around right now who knows how to deal with a concussion, having had plenty of his own. Rest, but no sleep. Lots of questions. Motion and observation checks. Time consuming, and boring, and Beck doesn't really want to be around the User for the several millicycles it'll take him to recover enough to get out and go see a User specialist.

But. There's no one else. Tron's busy enough with his own problems, Quorra isn't on the Grid in the first place, and Beck doesn't know how to contact anyone else with enough experience to deal with a concussed User. So. His problem, this cycle.

In the beginning he keeps interaction to a minimum. Does the checks, sits in pointed silence, makes sure the User doesn't make an ilk-advised getaway. He has cuffs, and is not afraid to use them if he needs to.

User_SamFlynn fidgets. It's somehow more annoying than him talking. "Ask." Beck instructs, poring over the User's baton. For anyone else, it would be a write-off, but Beck's more stubborn than the damage.

"Why do you hate me?" The User asks, sounding small and injured - no grandstanding left in him, thanks to the blow.

"I don't." Beck answers truthfully, flicking out Bodhi's parts scanner and using it for its intended function of accessing tricky repairs. Instead of, well. Locks. Escaping cuffs. Bomb defusion. Sabotage. Any and all of the above and then some.

"You do!" The User insists. "You hate me. Why?"

"I don't hate you, I don't trust you. There's a difference."

"But-!" The User cuts himself off. Beck glances up to gauge if he needs to escalate anything, but the User is clearly trying to phrase what he means instead of struggling. "Fine. What can I do to earn that trust, then? Tron trusts me, is that not good enough?"

"You had your fingers in Tron's code, so no. It's not good enough. You could have made him trust you." Beck fires back, a little more ruthlessly than he intends, and the User deflates. Beck sighs, fight immediately snuffing out again. "Just- just delete me yourself instead of making my friend do the work for you. That's all I ask."

"I don't want you dead!" User_SamFlynn squawks.

"And?" Beck shrugs. "You're not the first to say that to me and then try to sink a disc in my back. There's only been one who didn't do it on purpose."

User_SamFlynn looks at him in horror. Beck grins sharply, and it hurts - he lets the glamour drop so he can take some strain off his scars. "You know who and what I am. Not by my choice, but you know." User_SamFlynn looks even more devastated. "Too many have done too much, and I don't care what happens to me any more. However. If you hurt Tron, if you take away his ability to choose for himself what he wants to do, what orders he wants to follow? There is nowhere you will be able to hide from me. He's been hurt and used enough already."

User_SamFlynn nods once, resolve breaking through the fog of his injuries. "I won't. And if anything like that happens, I want you to stop me. Before he gets really hurt."

Beck hums. "With pleasure."

The glamour flows back on easily. The silence returns, a bit more peaceful than it was.

Beck neither trusts, nor particularly likes the User. But now he feels like they can come to an understanding.

The girls are trying to explode each other with their minds 💥

[gildedcaqes]

3, 4, 8 !

( again, go wild !! )

3. What is your muse’s biggest regret? 

Char: Kamille.

Char has done countless horrible things, has so much to regret—and yet, his greatest regret is what he's done to Kamille. Taking a loving father and turning him into a machine, noticing the lack of light in those eyes when he woke up—it's the one thing that will keep Char awake at night. Axis's failure doesn't bother him, no attempted or assisted genocide crosses his mind at night. Causing Amuro to run and hide, flinch from him—none of it matters as much as looking at Kamille and seeing a stranger. Hearing Kamille scream and cry, "You mutilated me! I don't even recognize you anymore, Char! You're-- you're some kind of monster!" Sometimes he can still feel Kamille gripping his uniform shirt, shaking him and begging "take it out, take the metal out of my head! Please!"

Amuro: Char.

Trusting that man was the worst decision of his life. How they left off after the OYW was bad enough—but letting him in during Gryps, letting Char convince him that he'd changed, that he wasn't some kind of monster... "I trusted you! I thought- I thought you changed, you said...!" Never again. Amuro prefers to be alone, now. No one will be able to scare him enough to hide under the tables in the Argama's café, nothing can scare him into staying in populated rooms so Char can't bother him behind closed doors. But when the phone rings, it's hard to keep himself from picking up the phone.

Kamille: Char.

The one person that he felt really understood him. He entrusted custody of his son to this man, for God's sake—all while having no idea what he really was. "Don't! Don't come any closer you—you fucking animal! Where did you put him, where is my son?! I'll kill you, Char!" Kamille still flinches away from hands. He still wakes up with headaches, hands moving to the scar on the nape of his neck. And when he looks at Full Frontal, all he can think of is the monster that took everything from him.

4. How many scars does your muse have?

Char:

Uncertain. A Baoa Qu scar on his forehead, of course. Thanks to ... well, having an insane amount of money, he got reconstructive cosmetic surgeries after Axis - so he has considerably less burn scars than he did before them. He does have scars on his face, but they're faint and mostly from things that weren't the burns from Axis. A scar on his throat that looks suspiciously like a "G". A scar on his thigh that looks like a stab wound. Scratch marks on his arms, and shoulder. Unclear where they came from or how they managed to scar.

Amuro:

Over ten. A Baoa Qu scar on his shoulder. Burn scars all over his body, though faded. Three years was long enough for there to not be much discoloration, though it's still obvious that he was burned. Knife scars litter his body, all caused by Char. Purposefully, Char has only scarred his face this way once - a wound on the side of his mouth, the only scar Amuro can't hide. Smaller, significantly less visible burn scars on his legs. Circular in shape.

Kamille:

Around six to twelve. A small scar under his eye, almost completely faded, caused by glass from his helmet breaking at the end of Gryps. Scars wrapping around his wrists from unknown origin. Looks like rope burn, isn't. A scar on the nape of his neck. No matter how long his hair gets, he doesn't pull it into a ponytail - he hates how obvious the scar is when you can see where his hair refuses to grow. Non-coincidentally, doesn't have many scars from Char himself—save for one on his ankle, and knife wounds littering his back.

8. What does your muse fear losing the most?

Char: Control.

No matter how many times he tries to act like his biggest fear is losing an individual person, what he really fears is that loss of control. Being alone is horrifying to him, but not having someone at his beck and call is even worse. Not having someone on the proverbial leash, having to accept that humans aren't his property to tug around. Losing Kamille was devastating. Finding out that he can't control the feline anymore felt like everything had been ripped away from him.

Amuro: Privacy.

Watching the windows, stapling the curtains shut. Locking and barricading every door—waiting for the day that the door opens, and he's met with that red uniform. No matter how many guns he keeps in his house, behind every door, under every pillow, the knife he sleeps with on the couch—it doesn't help. Not when he can always feel those eyes on him.

Kamille: Banagher.

He's already lost everything. His life, his dignity, his personality, his freedom. His humanity was ripped away from him. There's nothing left to lose. But his light, his little boy, the only thing keeping him alive—he can't lose him. Not again. Every time he hears about the Gundam launching, every time he sees Banagher walk the halls of the Rewloola when he's forced to be on it, pain rises in his chest. "I'm just looking out for you, Banagher. I know we're not terribly close, but... your father would want you to be safe."

[whatstheoccasion]

— THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?

"More. I want us to be more. Do you understand?"

There. He said it. He slowly sits to his full height, ears burning red and a permanent scowl refusing to leave his face–

And he sighs exasperatedly at the confusion in your face. "You don't get it?"

> Law finally confesses– except, it's not that easy.

warnings: explicit mentions of death, grief and depression. major spoilers for dressrosa and law’s past. +16 for one (1) suggestive line. tags: no pronouns are used except for a stranger calling the reader 'lady' once. fluff. jealous law. can legally count as angst with a happy ending or slow-burn. mushy feelings. title from that old japanese saying.

word count: 5,2k.

playlist: above the clouds – cyndi lauper ft. jeff beck, iris – goo goo dolls, love you 'till the end – the pogue

You squeeze him closer to you, making Law grumble quietly like a cat, mostly out of habit. The sound of the falling autumn leaves and the smooth rising of your chest against his back could easily lull him to a peaceful sleep.

Peace. It’s been a while since the feeling last visited him.

"I'm happy that I met you, Law."

Law cringes, biting his tongue to keep himself from arguing with you.

He finds it very hard to believe he could bring anyone happiness, not when he himself hasn't felt anything but hate for a long, long time. Happiness felt too pure, innocent for a man like him.

But you told him, once, that he needed to start believing in you more.

Trust. That’s the word you used.

He doesn't know what to do with someone so happy to be near him, but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all, if the warmth that now spread across his chest was anything to go by.

"Let's go back to town," he says, letting himself sink in the warmth of your body for just a second longer before he gets up, pulling you up to your feet with him. "It's the final day of the festival."

The band you told me you liked is leaving town tonight, and you wanted to listen to them, he doesn't say. He doesn’t need to.

Making sure you were happy enough not to leave his side was something Law easily can get behind, especially when you beam up to him like this, sweet and excited, taking his hand to lead him straight into the commotion in town.

He would rather have all the cells in his body shrivel up and die before admitting it, though.

                                       ☽

Law is eight when he first goes on a school trip.

It wasn't a big deal. A simple walk to the nearest natural escapade, in this case, a winter forest.

Law counted in his head up to 120 until he got bored and distracted on the way there, one of his friends deciding to show him a bad drawing of a crooked, three legged cat. It somehow looked more like a penguin. Law didn't comment on it, instead asking his friend to draw something else, something fierce.

He got the drawing of a very debatable polar bear two minutes later. Law only stared at it. Then told his friend it was ugly, because it was, but all he got was a hearty laugh in response. "If it's so ugly why do you look like you want to keep it? Huh, Law?"

Maybe if he told him the drawing was bad enough, he could get it to himself. That's how asking for something worked, right?

It wasn't much later into his quarrel when Sister stopped, telling the class they arrived. He looks up to see the tiny forest with distrust.

But surprisingly, Law did have fun. He was always physically weaker than the rest of them, and more secluded, but that didn’t stop his friends from hanging out around him. Because they waited for him with easy steps, and laughed when he fell. The girls all have mixed feelings about him ("he's so scary," they whisper to each other, "yeah, but that's what makes him cool!"). But it's okay, because they never exclude him, and he feels just fine.

Maybe he could tell his parents about this place where he felt free. Lami would like the falling snow and crystalized flowers, and his parents could finally be as free as he felt. Law gets a nice memory added up to the bunch, coming home with scraped knees and a sheet of paper holding the face of a strange bear stuffed in his blazer's pocket.

Law saw the same kids screaming for their life two years later, crying for help in the middle of a city filled with Marines.

He couldn't turn a blind eye to his ruined city. As much as he wanted to, as bad as his eyes stinged with fear and worry for himself, he needed to keep them wide open to look at where he's headed to. So he sucks it up, and looks.

His friend was holding the now bloodied sketchbook with a tight grip, standing with as much fight in him as a 10 year old could possibly have.

He can still hear the Marine's clean shot to his head.

A few bodies behind him, Sister's dull eyes stared right into his soul.

Law runs, stumbling over unmoving bodies, eyes open and lifeless, but he can't stay long enough to think about it. Or his parents. Or Lami– he only avoids stepping on corpses and keeps running.

It marks the start.

                                       ☽

  “You asked me about the name on my coat.” Law's voice fades off, and his eyes fall down to the delicate hand taking hold of the sand beneath him. “Still want to know?”

Your hand stops.

He fights the urge to take his words back. The sudden rush of adrenaline is begging him to drop everything and walk far, far away from you. He shouldn’t have said that. He should never see you and your cursed ability to make him voluntarily open up to you ever again, he needs to leave and never look back.

The thought doesn’t last long, though.

You take a second to answer him, but your eyes are gentle when you look up, if not a little surprised. “Of course I do.”

The beach is calm otherwise. Way past midnight, the crew is soundly asleep many feet behind you both. This whole island is filled with fisherman and kind locals, and this deep into the night, it's very quiet. Tranquil.

He resents it.

There was nothing to keep him distracted, no one to burst into your conversation interrupting like the dramatic movies Shachi and Penguin watched way too loudly with their stolen, fancy den-den-mushi. The sand is steady beneath his feet, exceptionally so for the Grand Line.

So with the sound of soft waves easying his mind, Law sits down, and talks.

There isn’t much to say, really. Sure, at times his voice gets rough and tight around the edges, and his throat is constantly closing down in distress, making the brief story that much harder to tell. But it was okay. Law only takes a second to breathe, to engrave the feeling of your hand tightening around his (when did you come closer, actually?), and continues.

Grief grips him tightly, and he feels sharp claws of regret over his past decisions scratching inside his chest, shoulders and neck, clouding his mind with red, angry thoughts. Unforgiving.

He can’t close his eyes, knowing what awaits him if he dares to do so.

Even now, as he talks, he can see it in a point above the water. The face of a marine walking into a lost child in the raging snow, something he can’t recognize stuck to his face. The same marine carries the child, taking him to his demise with steps certain, firm. Then, the demise itself. The screams, what he thought were his last breaths, the frustration for being so weak and little.

The last smile of a man he loved like his own father.

He’s not ready to tell you just why he was so weak. Why was he too small, easily sickened at age 13. Alone. Not now, anyways. He's already risking a nightmare tonight, by bringing back all these memories to surface.

You’re both sitting up now. The familiar smell of your shampoo flutters with the late night breeze straight to him, bringing Law a sense of comfort– safety, even, and he finds himself welcoming the feeling.

Talking about his past feels less like a weight lifted from his shoulders, and more like yanked off his entire body.

You answer him in quiet hmms, in gasps and involuntarily squeezes of your hand on top of his. Mellow rays of sunlight start to bright his mind slowly, steadily once he finally closes his eyes, and it’s replacing the intimate black fog he was so used to. He’s not quite sure if the light comes from you, or the sunrise.

He had told the story twice before. Once, to his three closest friends (family, now, really). And then the Strawhat kid, keeping the details out. It never quite felt like this, though.

He can only wish to never tell it again.

Silence fills the space between you both once it’s all said and done, and you're still taking his story in, squeezing his hand to your chest. Law doesn't mention the hot tears that fall onto his inked knuckles, his gaze focused on the white polka-dotted hat sitting innocently beside him.

He lets out a tired, long sigh. It almost feels like an out of body experience, having so many feelings yet not a certain way to deliver them, to talk about them. Letting them all out at once, because he doesn’t know how to do this in a different way. His explanation was no short of messy, for sure.

But you seem to get it, and you're holding him so strongly against your body like he'll break apart if you don't, and you're grounding him.

Wherever you touched him, it was a shot of motivation right to his defeated veins. To keep going. To find out why he was brought up in this screwed world. The weight of his name felt lighter where your encouragement touched it.

“There's no despair in this world, Law-kun. Someone will definitely lend you a helping hand.”

“Don’t ever attach a reason to the love you’ve received!”

More than hope, Law had faith. In you, there lived his faith.

                                        ☽

    But he also knows not to forget his past, darker days with you. He still has to amend. He knows this a little too well.

He remembers yelling and pushing you away, stabbing words into your brain to the point of tears. He remembers thinking "I wish we never met", because everyone he loves dies and never comes back and Law can't go through that again. Not without it changing him for worse. He just can't. And the words die in his mouth before he gets to say them.

Until he does.

He says them, because there’s nothing else he can think of to make you go away, to leave him alone. And when his truthful thoughts and rude comments don’t deter you, he uses spiteful remarks and lies, as many lies as barriers he has around his guarded heart.

"I don't want you in my life. What I want is for you to drop it and leave me alone."

"If you can't be by yourself, fine. Go look for someone who cares."

The thought of Cora-san, of his parents looking down on him with disappointment weren't enough to keep his trap shut.

All he gets in return from you are stubborn glares. For every twisted truth he says, you stand strong, relentless in your way to his heart.

Iron fists are now framing your once gentle hands, thick-skinned and headstrong.

Law loathes it. He’s scared and spiteful, and he hates feeling like this. It shows through cruel lashes out and cold stares, and yet. Yet, you don’t give the fuck up.

You keep breaking down each and every one of his walls, leaving you both exhausted and naked, so vulnerable by the end of it. Your voice is laced with hurt and frustration when you call him out. “You think I'll buy that, Law? You think that you trying so hard to shut me out means that you don't care?"

Then, after a painful beat. "You’re trying damn hard to protect yourself, but what about me?”

You’ve left him bare, and there’s nowhere else to run. So Law chooses to ignore you as his trump card.

(In reality, it feels more like a desperate, ultimate resort. Like a kick without force. The final push before he can’t fight anymore.)

And it doesn’t work, because of course it doesn’t, and he runs out of excuses. Of plans. You won’t leave, Law's exhausted, and he doesn’t know if he feels more fondness or frustration over that fact.

He has no more cards under his sleeve, but even if he did, by now he’s sure you would have teared each one apart. Right in front of his face, too.

It's not a big fight what finally lets you in his life. He has already said everything he needed to say, and a little more. It's more like the calm after the storm.

So when the doctor’s too tired to resist his growing longing, when his words hurt him more than it does you, he relents. White flag waving shamefully. If anyone asks him, he was simply too busy as a doctor and Captain to keep "wasting his time" coming up with silly ideas to push you away.

It's here when “I wish we never met” turns into “Where the hell have you been all this time?”

                                                                                                  ☽

Law thrives taking beating hearts out of pirate's chests, that's a truth if he ever told one. He likes gruesome medicine cases, he smiles big while knifing some poor bastard up, and you know all of this. Still, your touch is gentle when you take his hand. Your face feels soft when you sleep on him, trusting the Surgeon of Death to keep you safe.

 He doesn’t give up the cruel, sadistic part of himself. He doesn’t feel the need to, not when you accept him, a vicious, dangerous pirate part of the Worst Generation, for who he really is. He's purposely shown you his worst, still, you embrace him fully, intimately.

Your acceptance leads him to think of clumsy legs and broken smiles, sometimes. It also reminds Law of two hands much bigger than his own on his frail shoulders, smiling proudly down at him. Then, a tinier hand, gripping excitingly onto his shirt and following him around with an innocent smile. If he looks deep enough, he can see the drawing of a three legged cat, then a bear.

The fight inside you, though, brings other memories to surface; hopping from hospital to hospital on top of a strong back, a back so heavy with the weight of the world on its shoulders. The weight of life, and death.

And he feels undeserving, because living instinctively, impulsively, came to him as natural as his cruelty did, and he didn’t think there was any other way to live his life comfortably without feeling like dying.

Until you happened.

You pop into his brain everytime, fighting and chasing away his nightmares with a small wooden sword against every bad thing that comes to him, no matter how big and strong they are. Just like the soldiers in his dad’s books, you were courageous, and brave enough to try and love him.

Eventually, dream–Law joins you in your fight, side by side. Sometimes he fights for you, protecting you as you sit around waiting for him. Other days you do it for him, or next to him.

Sometimes he doesn't have nightmares at all, but he knows you'll be there when they come back.

“Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart,” his dad once read to a smaller, happier version of himself, on his last peaceful night.

Law couldn’t quite take the words in, worrying about Lami’s eye bags and how tired she looked, not really taking the story in.

He thinks he gets it, now.

                                       ☽

Law still remembers sin, feeling like you can't and shouldn't be corrupted, and he now understands the heavy weight of responsibility that Dressrosa's knight had whenever he pushed his dirty hands inside gloves to protect what was innocent. Fearing corruption of the vulnerable is what brings honor to Kyro’s memory.

At times, Law wishes he could do the same with you.

Once he has you, the fear of you being forcefully taken from him is a constant thought in the back of his mind. Somedays, he wants to keep you in his front pocket, safe and protected from all evil.

But the feeling of your skin against his is something he can’t give up, now that he knows that it’s here to stay.

He lives for the gentle way you cup his face, caressing his cheeks. How warm his face feels when you hug him, skin to skin. When the softness of your lips kiss him, needy for his touch.

He relishes in the tight grip he holds against the flesh of your hips, your thighs, breathing in your skin. Your arms clinging to him, blunt nails marking his back as yours. His skilled fingers working in and out of your body.

Well, Law never really thought of himself as an honorable man, after all.

                                     ☽

 You're in the city again.

It was a town they found in the aftermath of a bad battle, and they urgently needed more medicine provisions. And food. Bepo has already passed out twice today because of blood loss- and then his stomach rumbled. His mood swings were a lot harder to handle.

So you were out shopping for food with Ikakku, and Law stayed back with Penguin and Shachi helping him bandage the rest of the crew up.

You went without him, but he trusted you, now. You would stay safe for him. You would come back to him with no more wounds than the ones you left with, because you promised him.

It was still not easy to deal with.

The thought grows heavy in his mind the longer you take to come back. He grows snappy, easily irritated because of defeat, he tells himself. He's strong and capable, so why did they need to run away again? What was he lacking? How could they improve?

What the fuck was taking you so long?

"You can go with them, Captain. We got this covered."

Law tsks, starting a vain attempt to fight his first mate back. "I'm the only doctor on board, dumbass. This is my job."

"It's not like we're in a life or death situation." Penguin jumps in, wrapping a bandaged arm around his best friend. "You already took care of the worst, we can deal with the rest."

"Your irritation is giving us a headache, Captain. Just go." Jean-Bart says from a corner of the room.

Law frowns, clicking his tongue at the insulting giant. “You’re on cleaning duty until you die,” but relunctantly obeys, light chuckles resounding in his ears as he hops down to town.

They were getting a little too chummy with him. He'll hang them upside down when he comes back to his senses.

He walks the steps leading him to town and finds you both a few minutes later, and the sight before him makes his cold blood boil.

There are bags full of food laying at your feet as you talk to a vendor, and he notices just how close the man is to you, holding your arm to spread a herb on top of your wounds.

Was this lousy man trying to fix you up? Who the hell did he think he was, freely touching you like that?

Why were you letting him.

"Captain! We have everything ready, is everyone okay back there?" Ikakku's voice is ringing in his ears, but he can't pay attention to her.

You finally seem to notice him, turning your head from the stranger to smile at him, quickly turning back to the man and telling him something.

Law scoffs with annoyance. Now he can't even hold your attention for longer than a second. What’s so interesting you can’t go back to your own- to his crew?

"You can take these back to the sub, Ikakku, correct?" His eyes fly down to the woman next to him, making sure she won't lie to him. He could room it out if she asked to.

Ikkaku quickly looks at him, you, then back at him, her big eyes twinkling. "Of course I can, Captain. I'll see you both there."

And then, just because she pities you. "They were talking about you, you know."

Law doesn't have time to answer before she scurries off.

He tsks, walking towards you. His crew sure had the balls and ovaries to tease him, he'll give them that.

The man is still grabbing your arm when he gets there, and Law takes his hand out of his pocket to draw the offending hand off you.

"Don't accept medicine from strangers." He says, not looking at you. "Not when I'm not around."

You roll your eyes, apologising to the vendor. "Hi to you too, Captain. And I wasn't alone. Ikakku was here."

But I wasn’t. He bites off the bitter remark. “Who's this?”

“My name's Iida.” The vendor introduces himself, standing as tall as him, yet meekly. "I was just teaching the lady about our medical herbs.”

He looks at him with desinterest. "Wasn’t asking you, vendor-ya."

Your voice wears a warning tone. “Law.”

Looking down at you with a rude glare, he’s unable to keep the jealousy off his tone. “We won't come back to this lowlife town, and you won't remember his name even if we do." Just why were you standing up for this lanky man? “Let's go.”

He’s careful when he grabs your arm to tug you away, but he’s persistant nonetheless. “I'm sorry, Iida. Thank you for the help!”

Law's fuming, and he hates that you know that, even if he tries to hide it on his face. You know him well enough– too damn well, might you.

After a few moments of moodily dragging you across the town, he gives into his burning curiosity. “What were you talking about?”

“I was merely telling him about our grumpy doctor, and how he would like some of the plants there. You didn’t need to be so rude, you know.” You say, sighting afterwards.

What did you just say?

Your words leave him dumbfounded, and he stops in his tracks. “What?”

“He asked about our wounds, and I told him that he didn’t need to worry. That we had a friend who happens to be a grumpy doctor with us. Is something wrong?”

Law feels his stomach go cold.

There is, in fact, something wrong. There’s so many wrong things about you calling him a friend, and a doctor, that he doesn’t know where to start.

Was that it? After all you've been through, all the fights with teeth and nail to make him yours, he's reduced to his cursed profession? A damn friend?

Or were you just hiding him from the vendor in case something could spark between the both of you? Law's cold hands start to sweat at the thought, his heart plummeting against his chest.

If that was the case, why did it hurt so bad?

It irks him, how two stupid words can stab him right in his heart. Friends. You told him you introduced Shachi and Penguin like that to run away from Marines just last week, disguising their Jolly Roger’s with two big coats before escaping.

Was that the way you talked about him, too?

"Earth to Law?" two fingers snap in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Law blinks once, taking the sight of you in front of him. Twice, and he can feel your soft lips on him an hour before you went to town, telling him to take it easy. Promising to come back. Your hand is warm and safe in his, protected. He couldn’t be the only one dealing with these feelings. He couldn’t.

Right now, with your bag in one hand and his hand held tight in the other, he feels a vague sense of premonition.

                                     ☽ 

 You were always begging him to believe in you with a hand over your heart, promising things he was too scared of. Truth is, he’s already found something to believe in– his first religion has surprised him at his big age, laying protected in the stubbornness of your heart.

Now comes the scary part: it's time he puts a name to these feelings.

His voice sounds gruff and firm, calling your name. He’s long since dropped his -ya towards you, his careless façade more difficult to hold onto the deeper you carved your name into him, his bones and marrow marked forever. It’s fine. He accepted defeat long ago.

Your own voice sounds distracted when you answer, not raising your sight from the book in your hands. "Yeah, babe?"

“Yes.” He replies smartly, wincing afterwards. He feels awkwardness creeping up his stomach, making him sick. Why was he doing this again?

Your giggle reels him back. Right. Iida-ya, a few nights ago. You calling him a friend. He had to confront his feelings, no matter how much he wants to not do that. He starts, "I’ve been thinking.”

And cuts himself off, frowning. I think about you too much and it’s infuriating, he doesn't say, then recoils at the thought. You lift your gaze to look at him, and it’s all just too much for him.

Bring him an army of a thousand armed men. Make him participate with the world’s slowest, dumbest people in a fucking mathlaton. Take his arm out permanently. None of the these options can be as painful as this.

Resting his face in his hands, Law breathes out in annoyance. "I don't know how to fucking do this."

Silence. There’s worry in your voice, now. “Do what?”

Law scoffs, and not for the first time, he wishes you could just read his mind, if only to get this over with.

He can’t look at you, sitting all innocent on his bed, oblivious to the tangled thoughts in his head.

The old feeling to fight or flight tries to take over him, so he focuses his gaze on a drawing Bepo had hung on his quarters and takes a deep breath. It was the four of them a few years back, looking young and rowdy as ever. Penguin and Shachi had switched hats. Bepo insisted on paying the artist instead of making a run for it.

He exhales. "I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the conclusion that being with me is a dangerous decision. Not to mention foolish, and wrong–"  

"Not wrong. Not to me." You say with finality, closing the book to face your captain with a frown of your own. “We’ve been through this, Law. Why are you bringing it up again?"

"You’ll know if you let me finish." Law rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore how you didn’t correct dangerous and foolish. "I know what I said. We both know this.” He says your name with a warning. Don’t fight me on this. “Even so, I want..." structure. To be as important to you as you are to me.

What can he say? How can he say that without saying that?

What feels like hours in silence it’s probably around ten seconds, seconds wasted because Law can’t seem to find the right words. He knows he’s making stupid faces the longer he thinks about it, but it’s hard to keep the cringe off his face at this rate. If anyone saw him right now– no.

No, he would’ve killed them. That’s for certain. He would slice them to pieces, mix their parts up and spread their rests all over the New World.

The morbid thought comforts him a little. Breathing a bit easier, still not looking at you, he all but spits. "More. I want us to be more. Do you understand?"

There. He said it. He slowly sits to his full height, ears burning red and a permanent scowl refusing to leave his face–

And he sighs exasperatedly at the confusion in your face. "You don't get it?"

You're not helping, looking at him like he grew teeth on his forehead, gently shaking your head. "I don’t really follow."

That’s... that’s not what he expected.

In an attempt to save face, he scowls. “What do you not follow? What the hell more do you need?”

You sent him a dirty look. "I need you to tell me what you're thinking about, Law. I'm not a mind reader."

You’re trying so damn hard to protect yourself, but what about me?

His heart stutters inside his chest.

Fine. He can do this. There’s nothing to fear, is there? He can protect you. Law can fall asleep each night in the arms of a lover that welcomes him, with his fucked up soul and twisted mind, and he can protect you. He will put a name to what you both have, let you inside his brain instead of expecting you to read him.

That’s easier said than done, though. 

“You okay there?”

Your voice brings him back to reality. You’re standing between his knees now— when did that happen?— so close yet not enough to touch, to overwhelm. And he hates the way his stupid heart sinks with your lack of a nickname.

I was merely telling him about our grumpy doctor.

“I’m fine.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tries again. "What I'm trying to say is. I..."

“Yes?”

He stops in his tracks. God, will he be able to say this today? Before he explotes into little pathetic pieces that you could take to back Iida-ya to sell as a haunted herb?

But he’s just distracted by your voice. You sound mischievous yet patient in one little word, like you’re inside a secret with his heart and he’s the only one that hasn’t caught up yet.

Like you know what’s going on, but you’re testing him to see if he can actually go through with it.

Law knows that if he tilts his head a little higher, he'll see you wearing a smile. He can all but feel it beaming over his face, and he didn’t know that was even possible. He almost feels the need to squint his eyes.

That’s it. He needs to say it. He needs to just fucking say it.

He looks constipated for the entirety of ten seconds before he finally locks eyes with you, and awkwardly blurts out, "I love you."

Boom. The three little words that punch him right on the gut. Then, "I want us to be together officially."

You go stiff before him, and his heart is starting to pound painfully hard in his chest. His eager gaze never leaves yours, though, even as he pleads. "Don’t make me repeat myself."

A beat. One, two, three seconds pass. Law’s traitor brain is leading him to believe that you won't answer him at all– until you do.

He can see the moment it clicks.

Your answering smile catches him off guard, wide and beaming so bright he has to squint, or he might go blind. No one’s ever looked at him like that.

You peck him twice before he can react, your shaking hands squishing his face. He’s stunned, red in the face and confused, but you pay it no mind. Not surprisingly.

Then, Law’s ears eat up the sappiest shit you've ever said to him, like a starved man taking his first bite.

“Law, I’m– you idiot, you have me forever.” Tears welling up in your eyes, you swallow hard past the lump in your throat. His eyes uselessly follow the way your throat bobs. “I want more too. In whatever way you’ll have me, for as long as you let me. And I'll have you."

Sweet, carefree and a little breathless, you smile at him like you're telling the truth.

For a second, a frightening instant, the world stumbles beneath his feet. He’s dizzy between your hands, and he’s glad he’s sitting right now.

But his hands fly up to hold yours, tight, like the anchor of his submarine clings onto the wet sand, and his tense heart starts to loosen up with relief. And something akin to solace.

You chuckle wetly. "I love you too."

You have me forever.

It sounded like a promise.

The words finally land on him as he lets you pull his lightheaded head against yours, resting on you. Your hot breaths are mingling together, and if he looks close enough, he thinks he could count each one of your eyelashes.

You cheekily whisper into his open mouth. “Do you understand?”

                                     ☽

 The weight of your conversation doesn't grasp you yet. You're a stranger to the heaviness your words carry, to the lifelong commitment you signed with both your hearts on the line– but you'll be damned if the small smile he offers you in return isn't undoubtedly worth it.

[tamayosclinic]

do u write for muzan? i couldn't find any rules on ur blog, but i'd like to request something for him... if u don't, just ignore it lol so i'd like to request headcanons or a scenario (u decide it hehe) for muzan having a daughter that's like the same age as akaza, and muzan likes to spoil her and treat her like a queen... and she's close with the upper moons, especially daki and kokushibou... thank you!!

Muzan having a daughter

Warning(s): Spoiler about the Upper Moons

Author's Note(s): Of course Nonny. This blog wouldn't be complete without MJ- I mean Muzan. This was a fun request to make. The Upper Moons' personalities are so chaotic just like the Hashira. Also this is random but while I was doing this request, I just thought about how Tanjiro will react to (Y/n) if he came across her, especially if she was a human spy.

Being Muzan’s daughter is hands down a unique experience. This is the demon king we’re talking about which makes you the demon princess. Muzan is a great combination of nurturing, spoiling, and just surprisingly fun.

Whether your a demon or not, you get involved in his demon work. If you're human, he would propose the idea of you joining the demon slayer corps as a spy. You can always call on Nakime to help you escape if you get caught so he doesn't worry too much about that. If you're a demon, both of you will be a force to be reckoned.

He expects great things of you as his daughter, pushing you to reach your full potential as his descendant. You may be a princess in terms of blood relation but even you hold some power over him which makes you more like a queen.

Muzan is at your beck and call, spoiling you rotten from day one. Just don’t boss him around when he’s with the upper moons. He loves you but he wants to maintain his commanding reputation around his subordinates.

Speaking of upper moons, you are very close with all of them, but you mostly spend time with Kokushibo since he is Muzan’s righthand man and Daki since both of you are the only girls. You and Kokushibo like to train together (he’s careful even you both train since he uses a nichirin blade). You bring out his more talkative side even when around the others.

You and Daki have an all-girls night at least twice a month. Whatever you both do is up to you but one thing you’ll certainly do is go on a hunting fest as dark as it sounds. You naturally get along with Gyutaro too, but he wants Daki to be around other demons more often, so he doesn’t always join in.

Hantengu is afraid of you. Gyokko is more focused on his pottery than conversing with you and you think he’s weird, so you hardly ever talk. You get along with Akaza very well. If Kokushibo isn’t available, you both will hang out though training with him is near impossible since he doesn’t hit women and you may not want to use him as a punching bag if he doesn’t hit back.

Douma is banned from even looking at you. Not that he cares. He’ll try to weasel his way closer to you. Whether you feel comfortable and trust Douma is up to you. Just know that if you don’t, Muzan and the others will keep him away from you. Even Kokushibo will get involved. On the other hand, if you are comfortable with Douma just make sure to set up some boundaries otherwise he will push your personal space to the limit. Akaza will step in to protect you regardless of your choice though.

On a final note, Muzan is open to the idea of you dating one of the upper moons. He’ll support you no matter your sexuality and whomever you choose. If it’s, Douma then it will take some time for Muzan to get used to him.

[k-dokja]

More plotter contents pls 🛐🛐

EMOJI MEME | 💖 Do they like PDA or are they a private person?

If he was far younger, he might have problems showing his affection in public. However, at this point in his life, he doesn't care.

Like, what are people going to do? Judge him? Really, he has reservations about the more intimate side of his relationship because it's sacred to the two of you. But if his lover wants to fawn over him or kiss him in front of others, he doesn't really care.

In fact, go on ahead, sit on his lap while he talks business with others. It's not like someone will have the gall to say anything about what the Great Plotter does.

👀 Are they protective?

Yes, but also no. He's protective in the sense that he won't let any harm come your way. At the same time, he's not going to stop you from doing whatever you want either. In general, he trusts in your ability to look after your own safety. He'd only intervene if there's a big reason for him to step in or if you ask it of him.

Otherwise, he's content to sit back and observe.

🥰 How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o?

You're one of the few joys in his life that he can indulge in nowadays. He's not going to let anything stop him from enjoying the image of you. Except maybe if you disapprove of his staring. He wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable if that's the case. However, most of the time, he loves admiring you going on with doing the little things of your day.

🌺 Do they like to tease their significant other?

Strangely... he does! Very rare, but every now and then, if you do something unbefitting of your station as the matron of the N'Gai Forest, he will shoot a quip or two your way. He finds it very adorable when you huffed at him for his teasing. Aside from that, he also likes "making up" to you for his little remarks. Win-win, he'd say.

💗 How do they show affection?

Oh, this is oddly specific but he loves hand kisses and hair kisses. He's pretty tall, which makes him tower over you easily. This makes him more inclined to do hair kisses. If you have long hair, he likes picking up a strand of your hair and pressing his lips on them. He also likes pressing your palm on his face and enjoying the feeling of your holding him.

Aside from that, you can see his affection in his concerns. If he sees you straying too close to any danger, he'll always be there to have your back or pull you back. He also spends a lot of his time around you, even if much of it is quiet, downtime to kick back and relax.

🎁 What gift would they get their s/o?

You want for nothing in your position. There's a limit to what he can grant you, but that limit is absurdly high and you never have to worry about reaching it. Often, his gift is more grandiose, impromptu vacations, then and there. He will spoil you during those occasions, with the food you enjoy at your beck and call, flowers that you like, or maybe little ornaments that he believes you'd love.

💐 Do they enjoy giving compliments or do they like getting them more? What kind of compliments do they give/like?

He likes giving more than receiving. Mostly because receiving doesn't do anything for him. If you managed to notice something he missed or come up with a plan which is new to him, he won't hold back on crediting you for your brilliance. Seeing you brighten up because of that also makes his day.

He's also easy with the "you look beautiful today, my love" and "I feel at peace around you".

🍀 What’s their love language?

Giving: Gift Giving, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time.

Receiving: Quality Time, Acts of Service.

🌼 How do they view their significant other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.?

You're the light of his life and his best friend, no doubt about that. In a way, you're also his anchor in the dark. When he has gone adrift for so long, you're the one who leads him back to the shore. He'd be unmoored if one day he wakes up and finds himself without you.