#pre-dawn meal

[bobbertskeetz]

Hi! How are You? Hope u are good.

Can I request Spencer with a reader that had unsub parents? It can be female ir male

You can ignore this is You want! Thank u for hearing me

I'm so sorry for the delay on this request, I'm crap at trying to come up with unsub plot lines but I hope this somewhat lives up to the imagine you had envisioned my love !! Thanks a million for the request and I hope you enjoy <3

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇꜱ ꜱ.ʀ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: After half a decade, Spencer's worst fears are assumed to come true...

Themes/Warnings: gn!reader, pre-established relationship, mentions of kidnapping, unsub parents, angst, general themes and violence of the show. | PSA!! This imagine is loosely based on Mosely Lane |

You hated having your picture taken. The knowledge that you could never truly have control over what will be done with it haunts you even to this day.

The physical danger may be gone, but your memory, one which was shared with the many children who, unfortunately, found themselves locked away behind the dingy cellar door, forever remains.

Spencer knew of the horror stories. Of course he did. You made it your mission to tell him yourself before one of his FBI buddies could find out for themselves. However, hearing the admissions fall from your mouth did nothing to soothe Spencer's fear and anger. Fear, for your safety. Anger, for the knowledge that you lived in fear for the majority of your life. Anger, for the knowledge that the only thing separating you from your parents was a couple layers of cement and a cell door. He knew first hand just how ineffective prison can be for victims safety - if an unsub wanted to achieve something or other, all it took was speaking with the right person. He hated that he knew that.

Especially when he received a token in the mail.

A small parcel, barely the size of his palm. A little thin package addressed to Whom It May Concern. Assuming nothing of it, he opened it. You had already left for work, bidding him his goodbye kiss and promising a home cooked meal by the time he returned from the office. There was no sense in waiting until you were both home to open it, what if it was urgent?

And so he did.

And oh how he wished he never had.

There in his hand, sat a small polaroid of a child. At first, he didn't recognise you - for the ten years he had known you, and the five you spent living together, you have all but refused to dig up any childhood photographs. However, the longer he stared, the more he noticed your teary eyes. Your scrunched nose and furrowed brows. The same expression you wear to this day when you wake from a nightmare, when you watch a scary movie, and when you first told him of the horror house your parents ran. When you told him of the polaroids you were forced to take of your 'brothers' and 'sisters', and of your task of lugging those who disobeyed your mother to the crematorium.

Yet you'd failed to tell him that your picture was taken along with the other victims. That your little face had been a part of the morbid photo album which remained in the evidence case. Perhaps you didn't know? Did you even remember having this picture taken, you couldn't have been more than 7 years old. Spencer felt sick. Suddenly, it dawned on him what he was holding. How did he come to have this. Who had left this at your shared doorstep. They knew where you lived.

They knew where you lived.

He just about caught the bile in his throat before he felt his pocket buzz.

Struggling to pull his gaze from the omen in his hand, he reached for his phone and answered, failing to see the caller ID.

"Reid?"

"Yeah. Hotch I know, but I might be a bit late."

Before he could provide a half-assed excuse to buy himself some time - time to think on how he was to go about bringing this up to you and the team - Hotch beat him to it.

"Reid," His voice was solemn, yet calculated, "We've received a package. Well - JJ has."

"It's them Hotch."

The silence was pregnant. Deafening.

"I know."

--

Your foot shook, in a desperate attempt to self-soothe. The fluorescent glow of the BAU was straining your eyes, leaving a slight pound in your temples. However, the main focus of your stress induced headache remained on the ambiguity surrounding as to why David Rossi appeared at your work to escort you to Quantico. And why your boyfriend has locked himself and Aaron away in the conference room for the last forty minutes. You were scared. You couldn't let it show, you'd learnt that the hard way. But, in a room full of profilers, it was hard to hide - you were convinced that they could all genuinely smell fear.

In fact, your fear was so prominent, you failed to hear Morgan calling your name until he was crouched in front of you.

"How bout we go into Reid now, huh?" You met his eye only briefly.

Carefully, you chose your next words, "Will you all tell me what's going on?" Pleading with your eyes, Morgan felt his stomach twist.

"C'mon sweetheart."

You didn't take much convincing. All you wanted was Spencer, to curl up into him and forget all about this disruption to your day. Part of you began to wonder if you were being completely over dramatic and misreading the situation, maybe he had a surprise for you. A date? But you knew, in your gut you knew. They'd come back to haunt you. Why else would this dread be bubbling in your stomach?

Derek opened the door for you, leading you gently by the shoulder. There, you saw your boyfriend, bent over the table resting his hands on either side of what looked to me scraps of paper. His sleeves had been messily pushed up over his elbows, top button undone and his hair was tussled, a tell-tale sign that he had been pushing his hands through his curls. But for why? You still didn't truly know.

He looked up. His stomach dropped.

Wringing your fingers together, you stood before him with a sheepish look across your face. He knew you suspected something, something bad. And maybe you were right. It still didn't make telling you any easier.

"C'mere honey," He held his arm out to you, inviting you to slot into his chest, "Can you look at these with me? I'm right here."

You wished you'd stayed at work.

There on the table in front of you, sat three polaroids. One, you recognised to be Laney, the girl you had befriended for years. The photo, you had taken of her, as you had of all the others, to keep in an album. Why? You didn't know. Proof? Maybe a part of you knew that one day the horror would stop, and you'd need to show someone some day what had happened in your house. Someone had to remember all those who couldn't survive. Like your Laney.

The other two forced your head to bury itself into Spencer's chest; one, was of your bedroom, or rather your cell, and one of you. Little you. When it was taken, who had taken it? You weren't so sure. Laney? Your father? Everything was a fuzzy mess of guilt, shame and fear, so much so you couldn't remember the half of it.

The one thing you knew for certain, you remembered hating having that photo taken. For what reason? You couldn't place. But you did know that to this day, you still hated having your picture taken. That would never change.

"Where did you find these?" He almost missed your words completely, you spoke so softly, voice strained and distant.

A shaky breath left his lips.

"They found us angel, I'm so sorry."

Your heart lurched. Surely you had heard him wrong. You asked him, silently begging you had indeed misheard, but to your horror, that just was not the case.

Just then, JJ stepped forward, a small piece of paper outstretched to you, "Spence received the one of you at your home. We were sent the other two here, along with this note."

Shakily, you grasped for the paper, sparing Spencer a short glance before guiding your eyes to the words scrawled out in front of you.

Your old home address, a date and time. A demand for you to be there alone, or you would be 'collected' regardless of your showing up or not.

Your head spun, had it not been for Spencer's firm grasp around your waist, you were sure you'd have collapsed then and there.

Tears welled up as your eyes locked with his. His own frown matching the drop in your stomach.

They were back. You both knew it, and for once, Spencer didn't have all the answers.

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Reunion Post-Time Skip- Will the Romance Re-Dawn?

Monster Trio (Sanji, Zoro, Luffy) + Bonus- Law x Reader

Author's Note: So I've been listening to “Guilt as Sin?” by T. Swift on repeat and came up with this idea, based around this one lyric:

“What if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?

The oneshots are not actually what’s in the song, but just an idea from. Let me know your thoughts, suggestions, or other One Piece oneshot ideas I can help bring to life. Comment down below! Thanks!

P.S. Let me know if you want me to actually write out oneshots for the pre-time skip moments instead of just summaries or if we want some NSFW from this scenarios.

Features: Monster Trio- Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and bonus- Law

Summary:

You, a member of the Strawhat crew, had a romantic moment with one of your crewmates while at Sabaody. This was prior to Luffy punching a celestial dragon, the navy invading, Kuma blasting everybody to all parts of the globe, and the two year training time skip. Now, two years later, you’ve reunited with the Strawhats to continue your journey into the New World.

You’ve spent two years replaying the romantic moment you had with your crewmate. None of the other crew members know about it. You’ve daydreamed about what could have been and what could be when you reunite with them. However, you can’t help but think, two years is a long time, and maybe it was nothing, or maybe their feelings have changed. Maybe they will pretend nothing happened when you see them again.

Bonus with Law: You and Law had a moment on the polar tang before he left for Punk Hazard and sent you and the rest of the Heart Pirates to Zou. You have just learned Law has made it to Zou after the events of Dressrosa. You wonder if your captain will pretend nothing happened before he left, or if you will get to resume where you left off.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Hints at NSFW, Hints at sexual interactions in past or in future, Accidental ass/panty flash, lap sitting, nosebleeds, pet names

FLUFF, SFW

General Moment Monster Trio:

You and the crew have just left Thriller Bark and are on your way to Fishman Island. Along the way you meet Cami, a mermaid and are reunited with a former enemy Hatchan. After saving these two and being fed by them to fortify your friendship, they instruct you to head to Sabaody Archipelago. Once there, you set out to find Rayleigh, a friend of Hatchan, who will hopefully coat your ship, allowing you passage to Fishman Island and, thus, the New World. Prior to the major events of this arc, you share a kiss or more with one of your favorite members of the monster trio.

Sanji:

Pre-time Skip Moment Summary:

You were helping Sanji prepare a meal in the kitchen. The rest of the crew were repairing the ship or searching for Rayleigh. While reaching for something that was too high on a shelf for you to grab, Sanji grabbed your waist and assisted you in retrieving it. The intimacy of the close proximity led to the two of you kissing. Unfortunately, you were interrupted by a transponder snail call. The call was from Chopper, Brook and Luffy informing you that Cami was kidnapped.

Post-time Skip Reunion:

Sanji arrived at the Sunny to drop off his gear before setting off to the market. Already on board the ship were you, Usop, Franky, and Chopper. You chose to wear a light blue sundress that was low cut in the front and hit just below your ass. The dress cinched just above your waist and accentuated your breasts. This outfit was ideal for showing off how your curves had grown and changed in the two years you had spent away from the crew. It also showed off how strong you had gotten. Sanji had been yelling back and forth discussing something with Franky as he began to walk aboard the ship. Not noticing the voice, but coming to assist Franky, you had exited the kitchen and dropped something you were carrying. As you leaned down to pick it up Sanji stepped aboard the Sunny. Thinking no one was there as you were distracted by the joy of being reunited with your crewmates, you bent down sloppily allowing your dress to rise up. Sanji’s eyes widened as he was awarded the visual of more of your ass than he ever had before and your pink underwear. Sanji’s eyes turned to hearts, his tongue fell out of his mouth, and blood shot out of his nose like a geyser.

“Y/N-Swan!!!” You heard Sanji call as you shot your head around to look at him.

You quickly grabbed the item you had dropped and stood up, readjusting the bottom of your dress as you did. Your face grew a faint pink hue at your cheeks as you stared at the curly eyebrowed man. He took in the full sight of you, cleavage and all, and the blood from his nose jetted out faster, causing him to faint. You and Chopper rushed to his side and tried to rouse him. Franky and Usop stood behind you and looked down at the fainted Sanji, attempting to cover their mouths to hide their laughter. Sanji’s eyes opened gently and looked up at him.

“I just saw a goddess… I can die happy… Y/N-Swan… is that you..? He asked as he tilted his head to look in your direction. “The goddess! Y/N-Swan it’s you!” He muttered as blood shot harder from his nose and his eyes closed again.

“Sanji!” You yelled.

“Sanji! You have to get yourself together! If you keep bleeding like this you’re going to be in big trouble fast!” Chopper begged.

Sanji took a deep breath and blinked his eyes open again. He slowly cocked his head to look at his crewmates individually. He first looked at Chopper, then Franky, Usop, then back at you. You smiled at him causing his breath to catch in his throat. He gritted his teeth and his eyes grew wide as he looked at you. The color slowly faded from his skin and a small drop of blood dribbled from his nose.

“Sanji!” Chopper yelled. “You have to keep it together!”

Sanji finally regained his ability to breathe and took a deep breath. As he did, he raised a hand to caress your cheek.

“Y/N-Swan… my beautiful Y/N-swan… I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but here you are. I’m sorry for my behavior…” He began to speak as his hand fell from your cheek.

Sanji looked up at the sky above him, then turned and glanced back at you. You grabbed his hand in yours.

“Are you okay, Sanji?” You asked, eyes glistening with worry.

Sanji closed his eyes and returned his gaze to the sky above him.

“I was in Hell for 2 years… All… All that got me through was the thought of you… the thought of you and our kiss. You’re what got me back here today, Y/N, you’re what got me out of hell.” Sanji said, as he moved to sit up on his elbows and look deeper into your eyes.

Your eyes watered as you stared into his gray-blue orbs and pale face. Chopper wiped away the blood from his face as the two of you continued to look at one another.

“Hold on, wait a minute, did you say "kiss”?” Franky interrupted.

“Sanji… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day. I… was worried you’d want to pretend like it never happened..” You said as you broke eye contact with him.

“So you two kissed? When!? Where were we?” Usop urged.

“Never, Y/N.” Sanji replied, lifting your chin and pulling you into a soft kiss.

“AHHH! What is happening?!” Chopper eyes popped out of his head as he screamed.

Sanji pulled you into his chest and the two of you continued to kiss. Chopper slowly backed up into Franky and Usop’s legs. Chopper and Usop sighed and shook their heads.

“It’s okay little buddy. It’s a super thing, guess these two have been lovebirds the whole time and we didn’t know. Come on. Let’s leave them to it.” Franky said as he picked up Chopper and walked away from you and Sanji kissing.

Usop shrugged his shoulders and followed behind Franky. Once they left, you pulled away from Sanji and whispered in his ear.

“I’ve been thinking about a lot more than just kissing over the past two years… Nami is in town and Robin isn’t back yet… should we take this to my room?”

“Shopping can wait!” Sanji said shakily as blood shot out of his nose again.

You stood up and pulled him to his feet. Once on his feet, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind you to your bedroom. His eyes were full of hearts as you dragged him away.

Zoro

Pre-time Skip Moment:

You and the crew were on your way to Sabaody Archipelago after Thriller Bark. At Thriller Bark Zoro got badly injured, due to a run in with Kuma. Chopper had asked if you would help keep an eye on Zoro because he loved to take off his dressings to train. One afternoon on your way to Sabaody Chopper and you hadn’t seen Zoro in awhile and well, that made you both nervous. You went on a hunt for the swordsman and you found him training away in the crows nest. The two of you got into a heated argument and well… one thing led to another and the two of you fucked.

Post-time Skip:

Zoro was the first to arrive at Shakky’s bar. He waited for hours for anyone else to arrive, but eventually, he grew bored of waiting, so he decided to head to the Sunny. As he opened the door, you were reaching for the doorknob to the establishment. You looked up and smiled at him as the door opened. You were wearing a dark green spaghetti strap dress. The dress was cut to highlight your curves and muscles that had grown and changed over the past two years. Zoro gasped as he saw you.

“Hey Zoro! Been awhile, good to see you!” You said as you stepped back to let the swordsman outside of the bar.

“Y/N.” He said plainly, barely making eye contact with you.

As he began to step out of the doorway, you lept at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. His body tensed as yours hit his, his eyes widened, and his teeth clenched. He inhaled deeply taking in your scent, as he exhaled, he wrapped his arms around your waist. A few moments go by as you both rest in one another's arms.

“I missed you.” You mutter. “I missed everyone. Is anyone else here yet?” You added as you pulled away from him and dropped your hands to rest upon his muscular chest.

You lift your head to gaze into his dark eye and gaze upon the scar closing his other. He loosened his grip on your waist and looked down at you, his teeth clenched harder at the intimacy of the moment.

“Damn forward as ever woman.” He said with a smirk as he directed his gaze to your arms on his chest, causing you to chuckle.

“How have you been Zoro? What did you do for these last two years?! What happened to your eye? Where are you going?” You ask as you reach a hand up to touch his cheek.

“Wow. Slow down, woman. It’s just you and me here so far to answer your first question and well, the rest is a long story.” Zoro interjected.

As he spoke you lifted your hand to touch his left cheek, below his eye, where part of his scar rested. As you did so, the door to the restaurant opened and out stepped Rayleigh. Rayleigh’s face formed a large grin when he saw Zoro holding your waist and you reaching for his cheek.

“Well what do we have here..? Rayleigh asked with a laugh.

Zoro jumped back from you and crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze averted to the ground below him, allowing him to not make eye contact with you or Rayleigh. You blushed and turned to Rayleigh with a soft smile.

“Well, you didn’t have to stop on my account… Y/N, you’re looking as lovely as ever. It’s wonderful to see you again.” Rayleigh said.

“Thanks, Rayleigh. It’s nice to see you too! How have you and Shakky been?” You questioned, with a deepening blush.

“We’ve been good. I just came out to make sure Zoro was finding his way to the Sunny. I remembered he had some issues with directions and thought it might be best if I took him myself. You should come with us, Y/N, I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to the past two years.”

“That’d be great!” you say with a nod.

“I would’ve found the way on my own. I got here on my own.” Zoro mumbled to himself.

You, Rayleigh, and Zoro made your way to the Sunny together. Rayleigh shared tales of training Luffy and you talked about what you were up to. Zoro stayed silent for the most part on your journey, but peered at you through stolen side glances along the way. He was not subtle, so you of course caught them. He occasionally smirked at what you and Rayleigh said, but not much in terms of information sharing on his adventures for the past two years.

Back at the Sunny you ran into a few more members of your crew. Franky was inspecting the ship and Nami was stopping by to drop off her things before going to meet Usop. You greeted them both with hugs and began to catch up a bit. Rayleigh took his leave of you all to go make sure other members of your crew weren’t waiting back at the bar. While you caught up with your other crewmates on deck, Zoro had found a place to nap nearby. While you conversed, you occasionally felt a gaze upon your back.

While Nami informed you about new weather phenomena and navigation techniques she had learned, you glanced over at Zoro and briefly made eye contact with him. You shyly grinned in his direction, he shook his head, smirked, then closed his eye again to return to his nap.Nami of course, noticed all of this and rolled her eyes at you.

“Y/N?” Nami angrily urged.

“Oh sorry Nami, I was just thinking about a funny part of my journey getting here. How’d you get back?”

“Sure you were.” She replied. “Well I better go meet Usop. You can tell me all about your trip when I get back.” She said with a wink.

You waved goodbye to her and she headed off the ship, toward the island. When you looked back in Zoro’s direction he was gone. You talk with Franky for a few more minutes, then finally excuse yourself to go unpack. You couldn’t wait to get settled and reunite with the rest of the crew. In the midst of unpacking you suddenly felt a presence behind you. You turned around and sure enough Zoro was standing in your doorway. His arms were crossed and his gaze directed at his arms in front of him.

“Hey.” You said as you refold a shirt and set it on your bed.

“Two years is a pretty long time…” Zoro began.

“Yeah, it is… but being back on the Sunny… it feels like we left only yesterday.”

“I couldn’t agree more, and well I seem to remember us doing an interesting workout before we left….”

Your breath caught in your throat. Zoro’s blank expression formed a cocky smirk as he noticed your body tense up. He stood tall from leaning against the doorway and pulled the door shut behind him. He walked toward you as you turned to face him head on.

“Zoro, I…” You start.

Zoro walked past you and sat down on your bed, still not looking at you. He leaned back on his hands.

“Two years, and I haven’t been able to do a workout as well as that one… Think maybe we could try it again?” He said as he glanced at you, with his one eye to see your reaction.

“Two years is a long time to go without a proper workout… Guess we have a lot to make up for.” You said as you moved to stand in front of him, your lips twisted devilishly as you stared down at him.

He reached up with one hand and grabbed you by the waist. You gasped as he pulled you to sit upon his toned lap. His chapped lips pressed against yours. Fingers danced up and down your torso. Your hands wrapped around his neck and started fingering through his hair. He pulled back from your lips a string of saliva between you. You both chuckled as you stared at one another. He was more muscular than he was two years ago and maybe a bit rougher around the edges. You weren’t sure what he had been through these past two years, but in that moment you realized he was still the same Zoro from two years ago.

“Let’s see what two years of training has done for you…” You begin with a smirk.

Luffy

Pre-time skip Moment:

Luffy had ridden the ferris wheel alone with Cami, your fear of heights prevented you from joining them. After his ride with Cami, Luffy insisted on taking you. Luffy asked Chopper, Pappagu, Hatchan, and Brook if it was okay, and if they would look out for Cami while he was gone, they agreed. You rode the ride alone with him only to freak out at the ride's peak height. Luffy had no idea what to do, so he kissed you. He quickly pulled away apologizing to a stunned you. Once you had realized what had happened, you pressed your lips back against his. The two of you shared a passionate makeout session, but were interrupted by the sound of Chopper yelling about a yummy snack as the ride got close to the ground. Luffy rushed to the window to see what the ruckus was and he got too excited about food, to talk with you about what just happened. When the ride docked, he grabbed your hand and pulled you off the ride towards the food. Then while you and your crewmates were distracted by food, Cami got kidnapped and well the rest of the events of the arc occurred.

Post-Time Skip:

Luffy was the last to arrive at the Sunny, and he was being chased by the navy when he arrived. You watched him from the deck as he ran towards the ship. You couldn’t help but grin at seeing your reckless captain getting himself into trouble again. You stared on in awe as he, Zoro, and Sanji approached the ship. Your thoughts were interrupted by Nami yelling for assistance to prepare for departure. You and the rest of the crew quickly sprung into action to help prepare the Sunny for your ocean descent to Fishman Island.

Zoro and Sanji made it to the Sunny and you greeted them both with quick hugs. Luffy made it on board, but before you got the chance to hug him, cannon fire began to target Sunny. You and some of your crewmates started to panic. Zoro and Sanj prepared to begin deflecting the cannon fire. You looked out at the encroaching ships and noticed another one nearby that was not one of the marines. One of your crewmates mentioned it, because it moved into the path between your ship and the marines, causing the marines' cannon fire to stop. That’s when Luffy informed you all he had spent the past two years on or near the Island of Women with the Pirate Empress, Boa Hancock.

Usop and Sanji took turns trying to see the pirate empress with their binoculars and swooning at the idea of being stranded with her. This information and watching your other crewmates melt at the idea of Luffy’s adventure made your heart ache with jealousy. Yes, you’d been apart from Luffy and knew you hadn’t talked about your kiss, but it had meant something to you. Two years hadn’t changed your feelings, frankly seeing Luffy only rekindled them. Maybe though, two years and losing Ace had changed things for him. More gun and cannon fire awoke you from your thoughts and you helped the crew protect the Sunny. Thankfully Luffy’s friend, Boa Hancock, helped you all escape.

As you descend into the depths of the ocean, you and the crew caught up a bit. You learned more about Luffy’s adventures. You wandered towards the Sunny's figurehead. The rest of the crew chatted on the main deck or went to finish unpacking their things for the next leg of the journey. You stared into the abyss that was the ocean in front of you and thought of your dreams, and of Luffy. Your thoughts were shortly interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Y/N.” Luffy said with a large grin.

You felt his stretched arms wrap around you and pull you across the top deck into his embrace. You softly laughed at the familiarity as you turned to look into his eyes, his arms returning to normal at your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. After a few seconds, you dropped your hands to his chest, gazing upon his new scar before returning your gaze to his onyx orbs.

“Luffy… Luffy I’m so sorry about Ace. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” You sais as your eyes started to glisten with tears.

Luffy pulled you back into his chest. Your smile widened at his action causing you to let out a chuckle, as a few tears dripped down your face.

“You shouldn’t be comforting me! I should be comforting you.” You added, pulling back from the hug again. “I know how important he was to you.”

“Thanks, Y/N. The past two years haven’t been easy.” Luffy said, as he still held onto your waist, but directed his gaze into the ocean. “I’m sorry I selfishly took them. A friend of mine reminded me, I still had a reason to pursue my dream… this crew… So I took two years to get stronger to make sure that could never happen again… because, Y/N… Y/N if I lost you…” Luffy looked down at his hands and he gripped your waist tighter. “My dream couldn’t come true, because my dream isn’t my dream without you by my side.” He said as he looked back up to meet your stare.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You replied as a soft smile grew upon your pink lips.

“Good. Then I’ve been waiting two years to do something.” He said, a devious smile forming across his face.

Luffy pulled your waist against his with one hand and placed the other on your cheek. He gently pulled your lips to his. His lips were warm and soft against yours. Once the initial shock wore off, you kissed him back, settling your arms around his neck to pull him deeper into you. Your lips parted slowly allowing his tongue to slip inside. Your impassioned kiss on the top deck of the ship lasted a few minutes only to be interrupted by Nami.

“Hey lovebirds! There’s something following us!” Nami yelled.

You looked past Luffy’s shoulder and noticed a ship quickly approaching the Sunny. Luffy stretched his neck to look behind him, a big toothy grin forming on his face as he looked out. He laughed.

“I can handle anything the New World throws at us, as long as you and the rest of this crew stay by my side. It’s good to be back.” Luffy said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the rear deck.

Law

Moment before Dressrosa:

Law had just announced to you, and the rest of the Heart pirates, that he wanted you to take the Polar Tang to Zou, while he dealt with an important mission elsewhere. He left out a lot of details, but he informed you that the next day you’d be dropping him off at Punk Hazard then continue on to Zou without him. The entire crew gasped at the announcement and grew upset. Law in classic Law fashion, reminded them it was an order and as members of his crew they had to do as he instructed. The crew agreed, but reminded him they weren't happy about it. You, being especially close with your captain, as the only nurse on his crew, went to his quarters that night to demand more of an explanation. However, many of your crewmates, mainly Bepo, had the same idea. You didn’t get a chance to confront Law until the next day. You caught Law in his quarters and he allowed you to come in to talk to him. The two of you got into a heated argument about his plans, which ended with a passionate kiss initiated by him. Unfortunately, your kiss was interrupted by the Bepo knocking on the door to inform Law you’d arrived at Punk Hazard. Law stepped away from you, apologized, and exited the ship. You chased after him yelling, but you were ignored and Law exited the ship. Once on the deck, he used his room ability to teleport himself to the island. You, Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo all cried as you watched Law walk off.

Reunited at Zou:

You had gotten word via News Coo of the events at Dressrosa and were proud of your captain for his actions. He was alive and that was the most important thing. However, it had been months since he had left you and the rest of the Heart Pirates to go off on his own. You were still missing a lot of information on why he left. He didn’t explain why he had to go, where he had to go, or why he had kissed you before he left. Had he only explained that kiss, maybe you wouldn’t have been so mad. When news reached you from the Minks of the arrival of some intruders and to be on guard, you knew it was him. Your heart warmed at the thought of being reunited with your captain. Butterflies danced in your stomach and your thoughts soared into hopes of getting an explanation for that kiss. You finished tying the string around your neck of the tightfitting yellow dress one of the minks had given to you and walked outside at the sound of cheers.

Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin found him first, no surprise. You allowed the rest of the crew to swarm him when he made it to the Guardians layer. You watched from afar as your crewmates hugged Law, his body tensing with every touch. You smiled and giggled as they began asking him a million questions about the Strawhats and Dressrosa.

“That’s enough. Meet me inside and I’ll answer all of your questions. I’ll put my stuff down then meet you in the main room.” He said shortly as he tossed his sword back over his shoulder.

“So glad to have you back, Captain!” Bepo called as he headed into the Guardian’s layer.

“Yeah, Captain. Can’t wait to tell you about what we’ve been up to.” Penguin said.

“Glad you’re okay, Captain.” Shachi added.

You walked inside with Jean Bart, both of you guessing at what could be the next adventure for you and your crew. The crew had planned a surprise celebration for Law’s return once you’d received news about the events at Dressrosa. The early warning of intruders on Zou, that the minks had received that morning provided you and the crew ample time to cook and decorate. You had been the mastermind of course, and you knew Law would pretend to hate it, but he’d actually appreciate it. Besides, it had been so long since you had seen him, you had started to wonder if he would come back at all. Planning this event gave you and your crewmates a glimmer of hope. Before you could go check on the final details, you noticed a blue circle form around you. Suddenly, you were in a hallway standing in front of Law.

“C-C-Captain.” You stuttered, surprised to suddenly be looking in the face of the man who crossed your mind every second of every day for the past year, since you had joined his crew.

“I didn’t see you when I first arrived.” He said flatly as he stared at you blankly.

“Yeah, well, I hung back, I thought I could catch you later. Everyone was so excited to have you back. I….” You replied, rubbing the back of your head as the butterflies in your stomach frenzied.

“You weren’t?”

He glanced down at the space between you and placed his hand in his pocket. You took a step closer to him.

“Law… I” You started, tears beginning to form in your eyes. “I just needed a minute to know that it was real… That you were real.”

He looked up at you, breath catching in his chest as he saw the tears forming in your eyes. You took a deep breath.

“I’m so happy to see you, but I’m pissed at you.” You said as you shoved his shoulder. “How could you leave like that? We saw the alliance in the papers and… I.”

“I said I’d come back.” He replied, his eyes darting to meet yours, then to study the ground before him.

You sighed and turned your head. He looked exhausted. Taking down Doflamingo couldn’t have been easy, you had just wished he had let you be there to help.

“I haven’t been on this crew long, Captain… but Law, I like to think I know you a little bit… and you didn’t mean it.” You voiced with furrowed brows.

You stared at him longingly, heart sinking as the silence grew around you in the empty hallway. You wiped a tear from your cheek and swallowed hard, stepping away from him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Captain.” You said with a sigh. Now, the crew has planned a celebration for your return, try to be nice”. You replied as you wiped your cheeks and began to walk away from him.

A hand caught your wrist causing you to gasp. The hand whirled you around and moved to your chin, where suddenly, soft chapped lips were against yours. Your chest tightened and heart soared as his other hand moved to rest upon your waist. You blinked your eyes a few times, letting them soften closed as you tilted your head into his kiss. The rise and fall of your chest accelerated as you parted your lips open and began pressing back against his. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him deeper into your embrace. A few minutes passed before the two of you broke apart gasping for air. A string of saliva still connected your lips.

He dropped his hands to your waist and watched the rise and fall of your chest. You stared at his lips, desperately wanting them back against yours, but you knew you had to return to your crew. Law’s teeth clenched and he tightened his grip on your waist.

“I just needed you safe. It was my mission. I was willing to die for it, but I wasn’t willing to take you down with me.” He spoke between pants.

“Captain, don’t I get to decide who and what I live or die for?” You responded as you rested your forehead against Law’s.

“I thought… I told you to call me Law in private.” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t think that…one kiss gets you off the hook. You better behave yourself at this celebration and tell us everything.” You raised your eyebrows at him sternly as you spoke.

“I thought I was the one who gave the orders around here.” He replied as his hands began roaming your waist and torso.

“You’ve been gone a long time and someone had to take charge. Maybe I don’t want to give it up?” You replied with a laugh. “Well behave and after the celebration, I’ll let you order me around back in your quarters. You are the only person I take orders from.”

You deviously smirked at Law and walked down the hallway.

“Y/N, nice dress by the way. Suits you… But I think it will look better on my floor.”

“As you wish, Captain.” You replied, turning around to salute him as you did.

[merakiui]

idol!floyd with parasocial fan darling….imagine the plot twist when you break into idol!floyd’s penthouse and you find a room with your pictures plastered all over the wall

:O you’re either so flattered and honored to know your idol would ever bother to pay attention to a nobody fan such as yourself, or seeing photos of yourself (most of them taken in secret and from afar) causes you to falter in your parasocial adoration and now you’re just really uneasy. To think your idol, the one you have supported and loved for so long, has been watching you all this time… he has pictures of you from so many intimate moments. Photos of you standing in your pajamas at your window, parting the curtains to let in light. Photos of you making the commute to work. Photos of you running errands. Even a photo of you sleeping!

You suppose because he’s an idol he can get away with anything. Maybe that’s why you never seemed to notice the eyes or the sneaking suspicion that someone else had been in your home at one point. The details were so minor you hardly paid them any mind, chalking most of them up to your own clumsy forgetfulness, but now it makes sense. The pre-made meals packed away in the fridge—meals you couldn’t remember if you had prepared the night prior—were all his doing. The way your bed seemed to be just a little more wrinkled than before—he had slept in it when you were out. The fact that you always seemed to lose clothes, especially undergarments… He took them.

There’s a hand on your shoulder, shaking you from the dawning shock. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is. Floyd is very pleased when he pulls you against his chest, holding you close. You can’t run. Not that you have any intentions to do so. “Welcome home, li’l Shrimpy,” he hums, delighted. “Was startin’ to wonder if I should just leave a key at your place. Took you forever to finally make it home.”

But you’re here now, and he can’t wait to finally share his life with you. :) surely you feel the same? You did say you loved him. Sure, you’re in love with the idol version of himself, but he’s certain you’ll love the real him beneath all of the glitz and glamour. You’ll have no choice either way.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

[While waiting for the kettle to boil water, Li is startled by the sound of four tiny fists banging on the door]

Mei: Mommy! Li: Hi sweetie, did you have fun? Mei: Yeah!

Li: Did you miss me? Mei: No. Li: Well, I missed you.

Li: I was just about to have some tea; do you want to stay for a cup? Dawn: Sure.

Li: Thank you again for taking care of her for me. Did she sleep okay? Dawn: They both did, if you can believe it. I think it’s the first time Aspen has slept through the night in months. They must’ve worn each other out running around together. Li: [laughs] I can imagine.

Dawn: How are you feeling? Did everything go okay? Li: Oh yeah, it was great. Atlas and Asher were even able to be in the room, and they had this screen set up so they could see the ultrasound image. So, they got to watch the embryos being transferred, it was really neat. Dawn: That’s amazing.

Dawn: How long before you know if it worked? Li: We go back in a couple of weeks to find out. Dawn: Is that all? Li: Yes, thankfully, the wait is going to be so hard. I’m already anxious. I’ve been trying to distract myself by pre-recording as many videos as I can. If the morning sickness is half as bad as it was with Mei, then I’ll need it.

Dawn: Well, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to call me. Phoenix is working so much these days, Aspen and I can come by anytime to watch Mei. I can help out with laundry and meals. Whatever you need. Li: Thank you, really, you’re such an angel. Dawn: Oh please, you’re having my brother’s babies, you’re basically family now.

[Li’s phone vibrates]

Li: Ugh. Dawn: Who is it? Li: Nathan. Dawn: Oh, I thought you liked him.

Li: I did, he’s really sweet and funny, but he wanted to get serious right away, and I just can’t do that, so I ended things with him a few weeks ago. Dawn: That’s too bad. I’m sorry. Li: It’s okay. I really prefer being single right now, if I’m honest.

[Li’s phone vibrates again]

Li: [sighs] Unfortunately, he thinks he can “fix things” or something. He doesn’t understand there’s nothing to fix. We just want different things. Dawn: Well, if it’s been a few weeks and he’s not hearing you, maybe it’s time to just block him. Li: I think you’re right. I was hoping we could stay friends, but clearly that won’t work.

Li: There. Blocked.

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter IV — "mirrors."

Deep down.

Toc/cw; suggestive undertones, dialog, and themes. Pre-heat haze, san getting angry, ooc yunho and san. More world building, possessiveness. I'm bad with cw. COMMENTS PUSH MY MOTIVATIOOON Thank you♡

It's four days before your heat. Hongjoong, and you are trying your best not to be obvious about your affections, but it's getting harder the closer you get to your heat. Maybe it's the consistency of your schedule. Waking up at the earliest of dawn, writing down new lyrics as soon as you reach for your phone and then immediately getting up and beginning your day that had changed, which ended up with you feeling strange. However, today is not your typical schedule day.

You thought you'd have more time, really. Seriously. Now you're a heaving, writhing mess under your blankets. Not knowing what's going on because it's the first time you've felt this after your diagnosis. Too hot. Too cold. Never enough. Tossing and turning. Burning to be touched. It only lingers for an hour like a warning sign. The sense of being on the verge of heat. You don't know exactly what to do or what to say. Google is fairly helpful. You especially don't want to leave your room when all of your members are alphas. Even if they're taking scent suppressants, your smell is still extremely sensitive to them.

He hardly remembers you tucking him in a while ago now. Suddenly, your words echo.

"If you remember in the morning, then I give you full permission." To what? He doesn't know. All day- all week. As san gets ready, sits with wooyoung, does some more practicing, eats out with some friends. He still doesn't know what you meant, and he's grown frustrated about it. He's completely lost from the amount of drinking he did with wooyoung.

Maybe the over drinking thing is getting to san. Woo has got to stop daring him to drink more. He can't believe he still allows him to get away with it. As san arrives home around mid day from filming, he realizes it's time to settle in for the rest of the day.

Your scent lingers in the apartment, and it's a good thing that jongsik has told them to begin taking scent suppressants to prevent any of them from practically jumping you. It provides the self-control they need, but it doesn't prevent the thoughts that course through everyone's minds when they get the tiniest scent of you.

It may be thanks to the scent suppressants they have complete control over what they're feeling and doing currently. But it doesn't mean none of them want to knot you. Surely, san is speaking on behalf of his members that it would be heaven to do so. If they didn't have the scent suppressants.. well, san doesn't want to pop a boner thinking about it.

So, for now, they're just coping with your pre-heat scent all over the apartment. No one is allowed in other than the guys. Your pack. San definitely prefers it that way. He peels his jacket off when he steps through the threshold of the doorway, quickly closing it behind him to lock your scent inside.

Seonghwa prepares another meal for you, considering you're still cooped up in your room. And san wonders if hongjoong has been in and out of there, based purely on the smell of him lingering in the hallway. There's been talk about you and hongjoong. Gossip amongst the guys. The papers san found a while ago proves so.

He slaps the paper down in front of wooyoung. Taping his pointer finger against the signed line. "Look! She let him sign it!" san whines, grabbing at his hair. "This is driving me crazy," he huffs as he paces. On wooyoungs bed, yeosang and wooyoung scan the piece of paper. Jaws slack in shock.

There's no way they can dismiss this. Somehow, san got his sticky fingers on your heat paperwork. They don't say anything about that, but the signed line for your heat helpers is only signed by hongjoong. The pack alpha, yes they could ask him. But that would be extremely disrespectful, questioning the pack alpha.

Woo runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "Well, what if we ask- what if she gets uncomfortable? What if she doesn't want us to sign it and she feels pressured to say yes?"

Jongho enters their shared bedroom, questionable looks between his other members. The paper in question catches his eyes. "Why do you have that?" He asks, shutting the door behind him.

Does everyone know about the paper?

San struggles to come up with an explanation for the youngest member. "I- wo-" he looks to wooyoung, wooyoung lays the paper on the blanket, putting his hands up, he claims not to know anything about it. San has no other option except for explaining himself to jongho and what he's gathered the past few days.

Once san is finished explaining in the most rushed manner. Yeosang speaks up, looking to him. "I'm not asking her." Yeosang says, laying down his foot. "If she doesn't want us on it, it's not our place to ask her," yeosang looks back down to the paper in wooyoungs hand. "Put it back where you found it." jongho says, uncrossing his arms from his chest and leaving the room.

San looks back at the paper, propped up at the corner of the kitchen. It's not usual for paperwork to be left around here and there. But the fact you left it out in plain sight when San had to go and physically see it in your room to get it is very suspicious. He can even see the obvious bold letters spelling 'Heat Assessment'.

He not so subtly runs past seonghwa, slamming his keys down on the counter next to the paper. Seonghwa looks up from the dish he's preparing for you, looking at san, who hovers over the counter.

"Hey," seonghwa calls san. San shakes from his thoughts, turning toward the older member. Paper in hand. He reads seonghwas signature, cursive and strategically placed next to hongjoongs. "What are you doing with that?" Seonghwa doesn't flinch. he doesn't even ask about the content of the paper. Truly. Everyone knows, and now seonghwas signature is on it.

"How do you know what I have?" San asks, walking across the kitchen to seonghwa who spreads out some slices of apples on your plate. Seonghwa doesn't look up, "we all know what that is." It's a lie. Many of them dont know. San knows it, too. seonghwa pops a slice into his mouth, biting down on it. The souring scent of san fills the kitchen. "Why has -" he slams the hand holding the paper down next to the plate. Suddenly Agitated. "Why has no one asked about it?"

Seonghwa looks to san, finishing cutting the cheese with the knife in hand. "Asked? It's none of your business." Maybe seonghwa is a little harsh about it. He knows that, for fact. The door down the hallway pops open. San doesn't take a second to tell seonghwa off. Instead, he's marching down the hallway.

Hongjoong is just about to enter your room when he feels san pull him back by his arm. A deep set frown over his eyebrows. "Why didn't you tell us about this!?" He places the paper against hongjoongs chest. Hongjoong looks between the paper and san. Pulling it off.

San is picking for a fight. Seonghwa and hongjoong know. Whatever your scent has done has triggered san to be more possessive of you and more aggressive. Your heat is just around the corner, so the tension is rising in the apartment, and it's higher than ever. The boiling point has been reached since this morning.

"Why is your name on this!" San belts, looking between hongjoong and seonghwa.

Yunho steps out of his shared room with yeosang. The shorter peeps over his shoulder to look for where the yelling is coming from. The door creaks open across from them. Wooyoung and jongho peak out. Confusion written on their faces. Lastly. Mingi is the one to step out from the last bedroom on the left, right across from your room where they're currently at.

"San" hongjoong tenses, watching the way san challenges him. The sudden twisting smell of sans scent burning in his nose. "Tell me," san says through clenched teeth. Seonghwa tries to pull at his shoulder to lead him away from the leader but san shrugs his hand off roughly, cursing through his teeth. Sans tough hands shoot out, pushing hongjoong into mingi. The leader catches himself quickly with the help of mingi. Staring wide-eyed at san.

San, who just opened your door and went into your room. Locking the door behind him. He can hear the pounding on the other side. Drowning out his members, San steps forward into your dim bedroom. The only light comes from the window directly across from your door. It shines the dark room only slightly.

San calls you name and hears a shuffle of things in your closet. The walkover is draining. He can feel himself being pulled in by your sweet scent, invading his lungs. He knocks on it gently.

In the gap, your fingers slide the sliver of the door open. Eyes still blinking back sleepiness. San has to take a sharp breath at the invasion of his senses. You're curled up on the makeshift bed in your closet. A nest you made.

Plenty of clothes san has noticed were missing are strewn in a pile under you. Clad in hardly any clothing to combat the heat of your body. San bends down to your level. You still seem you. The smell isn't in full bloom. San can tell, somehow.

" 'Mega?" San calls to you ever so gently, watching you rub your eyes. "Sannie?" you respond, voice filled with recognition. The sound of your voice makes the tension in sans shoulders dissipate. You stumble up and out of the closet, anxiety begging to settle into your bones. He backs up to give you space. Did he even plan anything he was gonna say?

"What are you doing in my room?" You ask, rubbing your arm because of the cold breeze, and definitely not because you're nervous. "Doesn't my preheat scent affect you or whatever? It's not safe.." You mumble the last bit. San struggles to answer. "The scent suppressants.." he trails off. Watching you rub at the sweat on your forehead. He watches you twitch every so often. You don't meet his eyes. Grimacing slightly. "San.. what did you need?" You know he's not here to talk about something so simple. And the settling pain of your incoming heat is twisting your guts to make room for a big knot at the sudden interest of an alpha in your presence.

San sighs, all frustration draining from him in your presence. Wrapped around your smell. "The heat assessment paper." He says, you take a sharp breath. "What about it?" You turn to look away. San stands across from you.

"Do you really want me to sign it?" He asks in a single breath. You blink up at him, swaying in the cold room. "I said yes last night, did I not?" You huff.

You're kinda mean when you're in pre-heat. San thinks. He goes quiet. That's when you reach out, cupping his arm. Warm eyes meeting his in the dark. "San, I want all of you to sign it"

And you're being extremely bold. "All of us?" San mumbles out, shocked. It's not true, right? San, woo, and yeosang, can all be there for your heat? He won't have to feel terrible about signing it. His members (who are equally infatuated with you) can, too?

"You want all of us to sign it?" San phrases better, grabbing your palm in his, off his arm. "Yes, sign it," you sigh, growing impatient. This is why hongjoong and seonghwas name is on your paperwork.

San feels the hope bubble in his throat. Really, he can have it all. And especially when all he wants is to be with you at this moment. He doesn't care, you want him, and he wants you. Sans tough and somewhat calloused hands wrap around your jaw on each side, his fingers glancing over your primary scent gland, which makes you shudder into him. Your name falls off his lips as he searches yours. You can't help but stare at the lines in his perfectly round lips. As soon as his eyes fall over your own. He's pulling you into him.

You can feel the passion in sans touch, and you can feel the desperation of his kiss as it becomes more heavy. His left hand slipped down to your waist to pull you even closer. His fingertips teasing the hem of your shirt. Lips move in tandem, San wants to completely be overwhelmed by you, to be molded by your words and do whatever you want him to. And you want to completely drown into San.

Sans feet shift under him as you guide him, your hands slither into his hair. When you tug gently, san sighs into your mouth, never does he part. Nor does he want to. You know if you keep going, you'll succumb into the inner war of letting San have you here and now. San is oblivious to this. He's slowly letting himself slip into the other mindset he's pushed off for so long, the one where he gets to have you and take care of you like an alpha should.

You shake him out of it. Pushing his shoulder back against the door. You dislodged yourself from his lips. A soft tug, and you're gone from San. He lets out a strangled sound at the lack of your touch. You can't be entangled like this when you're so close to your heat. You can't let this get to you. Breathing each other in, you softly speak. "You have to go," you tell him. San can feel the door rattle against his back.

"As soon as you're done signing, it needs to be turned into the heat sanctuary I'm going to be at. If you don't, the signatures will mean nothing."

So that's why you've been cooped up in your room instead of going to your heat sanctuary. You've been waiting for them to sign it. As soon as san feels the door tug from his back, and you quickly shoving him out. Yunho is pulling the rest of him. Scowling. A screwdriver in hand as they tried to pry open your door. "Why did you do that! That was dangerous! For both of you!"

San heard and felt your words.

Everyone has been withholding their urges all week. Perhaps the scent suppressants are working compared to how your first heat hit. When they didn't know that scent you were producing and why suddenly they wanted to cover you in their own scents. It's a lot less easy knowing that you're only a room away in an apartment full of alphas who are willing to give you anything. But you don't know that. Hongjoong does. He takes a shuddered breath when he stands at your door ealy that morning. He can smell your preheat scent seeping out of the cracks.

Hongjoong knocks a few times. Listening for any movement on the other side. The door swings open. He's smacked with a wall of your smell. "Hongjoongie," you sigh happily. Pulling him in. "Hey pretty girl" he answers, pushing the hair behind your ears and out of your face when you don't stop to turn around and keep pulling him to your closet.

"Look," you slide the door open, dropping the edges of his shirt to crawl inside. "Come," you beckon him down towards the floor, pulling at his hand. He grins, crawling in. He's much too big for your tiny closet, but you fit in it perfectly. Hongjoong can see the amount of clothes on the floor, it's like a mountain, and in the center of it, it's big enough for you and someone else to sit in.

You're so very eager to get hongjoong in that circle, just to see if it's big enough. "Once I get to the heat place, I can make a bigger one for all of us." You push at hongjoongs shoulders, and his back hits the clothing softly. He doesn't know exactly what you're doing until you're sitting atop him, trying to nestle your face into his neck. He places two hands on your hips.

You're scenting him now, hongjoong knows this but decides to ask anyway. Shoving your face as close as you can get to him, your lips breeze passes his glands. Your forehead falls there instead, rubbing back and forth to transfer your scent. Encouraging a shuddered breath out of him. "What are you doing, huh?" He pulls your head out of his neck, his right hand holding your nape softly. You huff, hongjoong scans your features in the dark.

"You don't smell like me," you pout, hongjoong laughs lightly. Maybe in a teasing way but more so in a 'that was really cute' kind of way. The grin on his face tells you what exactly he's thinking. "Don't laugh at me" you pull away, sitting up on his chest. You drain the breath out of him in the best way.

Hongjoong slips to sit up, holding you close to him and not any lower. He only has so much control for now, and he doesn't want to risk giving a certain area the stimulus. "I'm not," he bites his grin. "You are," you mumble, shaking your head from the fog. You plop it on his shoulder, holding him against you.

"I'm not even in my heat yet, and I'm exhausted," you say into his shoulder. Hongjoong sighs for you. "I know, I'm working on it," he kisses your head. "I'll get you a knot as soon as possible, okay?" The sentence sounds so innocent when it really isn't. His finger rubs the side of your neck, where your scent glands are.

The thought of seeing hongjoong above you, giving you his knot, being in you for the first time, flashes through your mind. Your voice gets stuck in your throat. You stop the pulse between your thighs the best you can. "You can't say that." You whimper, pulling off of him. It takes everything in you to do so. The omega in you cries to be closer. Hongjoong pats your hip as you land softly on the clothes next to him. This plan is driving you mad, and yet you still have a week of a long heat ahead of you. "Has san said anything yet?" You look to hongjoong.

Hongjoong shakes his head, watching you lean your head on his knee. Prettily poking your lips at him in the most frustrating of pouts. "What if he didn't hear me?.. What if he doesn't like me like that?" You mumble, closing your eyes and squishing your legs into your chest.

"He heard you. He does." hongjoong sighs, rubbing your cheek softly. You don't know if he's saying it to reassure you. But you really hope san did hear you. And you hope you're not getting your hopes up.

Hongjoong tells seonghwa first. He trusts seonghwa a lot. You trust seonghwa just as much. The idea of going to him first was completely a mutual idea.

Later in the morning, Hongjoong knocks on his door, the one he shares with mingi and san. Sans out today. Wherever he is, he decides not to learn the details. Lately, san has been giving him the cold shoulder. And hongjoong has some idea why.

On the other hand, joong isn't ready to tell mingi about you wanting them. Hongjoong knows that as soon as he tells mingi, mingi will lose himself and steal you away for the week. You might end up inducing Mingis rut in the process. It's just not a great idea to tell mingi before everyone else, no matter if he gets upset about knowing later.

So with that, as soon as hongjoong learned seonghwa was alone in his bedroom, hongjoong took the opportunity. Three knocks, and he's entering. Seonghwa rests on his bed, looking at his phone. Hongjoong takes the bed across from him. Seonghwa knows whatever conversation they're about to have. It's gonna be serious. He sits up, taking whatever hongjoong has got to say heads on.

Seriously, if hongjoong says that you two are dating exclusively, seonghwas heart might actually explode into tiny shards.

It begins the same as a nightmare seonghwa has been having for a couple of days. "You know she and i are together," hongjoong starts off with, not knowing how else to phrase it. Seonghwas mouth falls open. "I.. what?"

Hongjoong really doesn't know how to say this. But for your sake, he's trying. "We're dating. I think we are - anyway. I was the first one who asked her, " hongjoong kinda bluffs, he didn't ask. It was kinda set in stone as soon as your lips touched his. Seonghwa wants to urgently shake hongjoong to spill everything. "She wants us to be a more intimate pack if you get what I'm saying, more than what the media suggests." Seonghwa sucks a harsh breath in, eyebrows furrowed.

"She feels most comfortable with us, not only that but.." hongjoong tries to gather his words. "She likes all of us, more than friends, more than members. She wants us on her heat assessment." Hongjoong explains, he can't exactly tell seonghwa you like-love him, it's not his place too. If seonghwa wanted an answer, he could ask you himself.

"She wants all of us?" Seonghwa can't believe it, to be with you and not make it awkward amongst them, is this true? Seonghwa can share. He can play nice. He might even enjoy the idea of sharing with the entirety of the pack. It's something he doesn't really understand, but he's completely fine with anyway.

Hongjoong nods, signifying that seonghwa is correct. Seonghwa let's out a breath.

"I'll sign it." He let's his words freely flow.

And when seonghwa brings your breakfast for the day, you're surprised to see him. And he's very surprised to see you making a nest in your closet instead of relaxing in your bed. "Hwa?" You question, taking the plate gently, your round eyes look up to him, assessing his presence. It reminds him of that moment in the kitchen, and seonghwa grips his fingers into the clothes under him to prevent the blood flowing somewhere else. "Hi," he greets back with a hum. You place the plate down next to the closet door.

"Hungry?" He asks, watching your behavior. You shake your head. "Not really... My heat last time took a lot, and I still tried to eat as much as i could," you sigh. Seonghwa knows a heat will take everything out of you, and you still won't be hungry until after. Too driven by the urge to.. well, breed, really. He hums as he listens to you talk.

You look like the most beautiful person in his eyes. Even when seonghwa met you for the first time. Even before debut, when you were just a tiny beta that begged to be picked on just to bite back. Even during every bad hair day you claimed. He reaches out to smooth his hand over your hair. Your roots are beginning to show. As soon as your heat is over, you'll be long overdue for a touch-up. And seonghwa feels like tagging along for it. Just to watch your pretty face in the mirrors.

You lean into seonghwas hand as it trails down your face. Sighing softly into his palm. "I signed the papers." He gulps, pulling his hand back. You miss his warmth. Even if you are burning up. Your eyes fall.

"I don't want you to be there for my heat -" you sigh out. Seonghwas heart leaps into his throat. "I want you to take care of me, and I want you to be there after," You try to find the right words. Confessions are hard. "I like you, more than my member, more than friends," you mumble.

"You know how long I have waited to hear that?" Seonghwa laughs into his words. You blink once, twice. He pulls you into his chest. Hugging you tightly. His head falls over yours. Seonghwa isn't the most muscular member, but he still has arms to prove how he can hold you comfortably in his arms and steal you away at any moment.

"I like you too, so much." he mumbles into your hair. You pull back and look up at him, begging for a kiss with your smile. If you did, you'd both end up getting lost in each other. You cut the silence. "Could you bring me some dirty laundry?" You laugh, embarrassed. He snickers. "Sure" he knows exactly why.

Sharing a room with yeosang isn't the best, yunhos member doesn't say much about this odd situation. Lying face down on his blankets, yeosangs phone is propped up by his hand. Yunho, on the other hand, is watching a show on his laptop, propped up on his chest.

It started off with yeosang tossing and turning all night, ultimately it woke yunho up. And before yunho could get a clue of what's going on, yeosangs breathy sighs and whimpers had him shooting right up and out of bed. No way was he gonna stick around to listen to yeo have a wet dream.

The early morning dew completely encased the windows after a heavy night of rain. The flashing clock on the microwave told him it was around 2 am. He took his spot on the couch and watched a movie in silence. When from the corner of his eyes, wooyoung tiredly stepped out of the hallway.

Wooyoung stood rubbing his hand over his eye. There's no obvious sign to yunho that he knew what was going on with yeosang, but he had his suspicion. He doesn't greet woo when he lands softly on the other side of the couch. Both watching the movie in silence.

Yunho can't take silence much longer. Wooyoung obviously can't, either. "Have you seen the heat assessment paper?" He uses this conversation for topic? When obviously, yunho knows about it. "Yea, why?" He asks, turning his chin towards the dark-haired guy.

Wooyoung shakes his head like he's swaying his thoughts away. "Did hongjoong tell you his name was on it?" That gets yunho. No. Hongjoong did not tell him. Because yunho didn't know the leaders name was on the paper.

Besides the feeling of longing building in his stomach, yunho wanted to know what wooyoung getting at. "No, he didn't.. why are you asking?" It's a short answer but an even quicker question. Wooyoung doesn't dare spare a glance at yunho. Opting to just stay quiet. It's completely unlike him.

"Whatever reason she has him on the paper, it isn't our business -" yunhos words stop when wooyoung shoots up frustrated, whisper yelling towards yunho. "Yes! I know it shouldn't be any of my business it's hers- but- dammit! She's one of my best friends! I have a right to know!" Wooyoung seems to be drowned in his own outburst for yunho to get a word in.

Pieces fall and collide in yunhos mind. Watching his other member pace back and forth. "There's more to this, isn't there?" Yunhos words stop wooyoung in his track. The dark-haired guy turns to look at his taller friend. hum.

Yunho knows that look, the all familiar sign of hopelessness when you love someone so deeply, and yet you don't know what to do. He's had the same look consistently when you would split from their group to take photos with other idols. Other idols who yunho knows want you. Everyone wants you. The all familiar ace of K-pop.

When he'd sit back as you did video challenges, dancing and laughing with someone else whilst he watched in silence. He wished everyone knew you were his when, in reality, you didn't even know how he felt. Yunho knows that sinking feeling of possibly breaking something that can't be unbroken. Yunho knows these moments of laughter and bickering, but he wishes he could have those moments with you in a different way. A way that you both understand. Mated as a pair. Together in a more intimate way.

Wooyoung is as still as a mouse, caught in the cookie jar, smacking his lips. His eyes squint down, his hand coming up to the bridge of his nose. Wooyoung is estranged. He is tired of lying to himself.

"We all love her, don't we?" He says into his palm, the world doesn't seem to crash like he thinks it does. Yunho stands up, taking wooyoungs hand away from his face. Wooyoung sighs, facing yunhos eyes with diminishing confidence.

"It's her choice.." wooyoung says just as yunhos mouth falls open to speak. Pulling his wrist from the taller members grasp.

It truly is your choice to call on them if you want to. And when wooyoung turns away, he doesn't see the way yunho loses all confidence. Compared to his members, yunho has a lot to beat. If he had to fight for you, could he?

The hallway flur pass yunho. In an instance, he's pulling san out of your doorway, fuming. San has your scent all over him. Yunho does not ignore the pink tinting in his members' cheek or the way his lips are red. His lips pull back into a snarl as he barks at san about what he did wrong. What could have happened.

Sans lovesick eyes and dazed expression only pisses yunho off more. Even when he lets go, he's still towering over the dark-haired guy. A sudden urge of violence panging in his fists. Yunho isn't violent, no. He doesn't know what happened, but the way san reeks of you is making him feel as if he could commit a felony then and there really digs deep.

His members attempting to calm the situation only make things drown him. He's got to step back. He's got to get out of this cramped apartment where you linger around every corner. He turns on his heels, wanting to make a beeline for the door.

"She wants us to sign her heat assessment."

Sans voice speaks up, and yunho knows exactly who it's directed at. He can feel the stinging of sans dark eyes against his back. Still, as wooyoung looks to his friend, he can tell he got more info than he leads on. But the main shocker is what he said.

"What?" Wooyoung asks for confirmation. Heart leaping into his throat. It's got to be a hoax. Seonghwa and hongjoong linger in the back, silently observing. Mingi is the second to step forward, bending his neck to ask what he means. Jongho definitely gets onto what he's saying immediately. But he's almost tempted to barge into your room and ask you himself.

"All-" jongho gets cut off. "All of us." Sans smile is bitten back. He looks to wooyoung, then to yeosang, shock etched into their faces.

"That's what she said?" Yeosang gulps. San has never lied about anything you've said. No matter what. San respects you too much and this situation is too serious for lying. Yet, yeosang looks to the leader and eldest member to know anyways. Their names are on the paper, something you allowed.

Hongjoongs eyes hold curiosity as he watches all his members, he was right. He's smug that he was right. You are so consuming, it wouldn't be anything other than a surprise for any one of them to not be madly in love with you. You are the prettiest shining pearl in the sea that is the world. Hongjoong shakes out of his thoughts. Seeking out the begging and hopeful eyes of his members. Even yunho, who is a few feet away. Turned to listen in on the conversation.

"It's true." hongjoong says.

Seonghwa took the honor of putting his name on your heat contact. So, in case of anything. Seonghwa will get that call. And he'll assess the situation when you can't. Regarding who goes in and out of your heat space, any official business regarding idol work, etcetera. Seonghwa took it on cause if hongjoong had- the eldest knew that the captain would be overwhelmed with all of it.

Seonghwa is your primary caretaker for the entire heat cycle whilst you're out. To confirm, they had all sat around your door whilst you were on the other side. Just a door away. You used your phone to call them so they could hear you clearly.

You are still coherent despite what san did earlier. The door is the closest way you can feel close to them. Joong had slipped a piece of paper under your door along with a pen.

'Rules' it reads. Rules for the guys. Anything you don't want them to do, they'll be coherent, partly, while you're in your omega mindset. They can't do anything you dont want, especially if you're allowing them to be heat helpers, which is why you need rules.

You quickly write down the list whilst they talk. Discussing what they need to do beforehand quietly on the other side.

You write down a list of things you're not okay with and precautions. Birth control for men is the most important thing on the list. You know omega-you will not take them, begging not too actually, and knowing your boys, they might actually give in or get distracted. So they'll have to do the protection protocol.

And that's all you had. You are fairly comfortable with everything else. You're sure your omega mind will enjoy it as well.

There's this obvious what-will-happen lingering in your mind. Will this make or break your group? You know this is only a temporary solution. You know they think you're only doing this because you trust them to take care of you. You can't tell exactly why they're agreeing. Do they possibly feel the same? You know hongjoong and seonghwa do- and even san.

What about the rest of them?

Later in the midst of the night, as you're curled up in your closet. Your phone vibrates, awakening you from a sticky and hot sleep, one where you hardly actually sleep a wink, and you're completely uncomfortable the entire time. The bright light shines and blinds you temporarily. It's 2 am.

At some point after dinner, you must have fallen asleep. The ache in between your legs spikes up your hips, causing you to curl into yourself more. Whining quietly into the blanket yeosang had gifted you for your birthday. A pale yellow.

Your fingers reach for anything. Your phone ends up in your tight embrace. A contact on display, how'd that get there? The all familiar picture of you and the tallest of your friends posing in front of a snowman, his bright smile and bowlcut styled hair. Yunho.

"Hello?" Yunhos happy deep voice rings from the other side of the screen. You shudder at the familiarity. Was his voice always this deep? Your thighs clench. "Hello..?" He repeats. Music can be heard, some type of indie song, you recognize a few of his friends talking. Laughing whilst he takes a call.

You can hear the shuffle of yunho on the other side. A door shuts behind him, silencing the music. He calls your name softly. You're still so quiet. You haven't said anything. He must have checked the caller ID. "Yunho," your small voice speaks up, and you bite your lip. Curling into your side. You continue on with a whimper, "Where are you?"

Yunho takes a sharp breath. "I'm out, getting food with some friends, you okay?" he tells you honestly, his feet pacing in the bathroom echos. Your head begins to fog worse than it has in the entirety of the week. "Yun" you whine his name into the air. "How far away?" You fall into a whisper.

"Not far, I'm leaving now." The fact yunho is willing to ditch his group of friends and come home just because you called has you leaking. You bite on the arm holding your phone up to stop a needy gasp.

"Talk to me omega, tell me what's going on." The shuffle of yunho pulling his jacket on distracts you. His friends call his name as he walks, and the doorbell jingles behind him. You can't take the ache anymore. The fog behind your thoughts is consuming. You feel yourself losing control.

"I need you, please. Yunho, Please." You whine, dropping the phone next to you. Yunhos' words fall short. You can hear the door to his car open and slam shut.

"I'll take care of you, omega, okay? Just keep talking to me, I'm almost there"

A/n; I'm terrible. Ik. leaving it off on another cliffhanger bc I didn't know how to finish this chapterrrrr iM SORRY. THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!! it's gonna start getting really spicy here on-

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1

[msriri030]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Disclaimer: I Cooked jk, Monsterau!

Masterlist

Simon leaned back against the wall of the training grounds, arms crossed, his crimson eyes following your every move. You had slipped outside again, lunch tray in hand, heading toward the quiet corner of the yard where the shade of the large oak tree offered refuge from prying eyes. It had become your routine, one Simon had watched unfold since you arrived as the newest sniper recruit form the Monster and Human Relationship Program.

You were a model soldier in many ways—your skill was unmatched, your discipline unwavering. The monsters and humans on the team respected you for that. But Simon knew there was more to a person than their competence. And that’s where the mystery lay. Because while the others gravitated toward camaraderie, drawn together by the shared goal of the program, you stayed apart, a lone figure avoiding both humans and monsters alike.

It wasn’t just your choice of solitude during meals that intrigued him. It was everything about you.  

Each morning, you were up before anyone else, slipping into the training yard before the first rays of sunlight painted the horizon. Your movements were efficient but quiet, as though you didn’t want to disturb the sleeping base. Simon would often catch a glimpse of you through the barracks window during his own pre-dawn routine. Then, as the day unfolded, you executed your tasks with the same precise detachment, speaking only when necessary, avoiding unnecessary physical touch, and blending into the background despite your undeniable skill.  

And at night, when most recruits gathered in the lounge or made use of the limited amenities offered on base, you disappeared again, retreating to your quarters—the farthest room at the edge of the base. It was the kind of place someone chose when they didn’t want to be found, didn’t want to be noticed. Like a shadow deliberately cast to avoid the light.

Simon tilted his head slightly, his curiosity deepening. Was it fear that drove you to isolation? Distrust? Or was it something else entirely? He wasn’t one to pry into people’s lives, but something about you gnawed at his instincts, the predator within him sensing there was more beneath your composed surface.

He turned away from the window, muttering to himself, “Just what are you hiding, sniper?” 

Tomorrow, perhaps, he’d find a reason to strike up a conversation. Or maybe he’d follow you on one of those early mornings, see what secrets you carried when you thought no one was watching. Simon smiled faintly to himself, a mixture of amusement and intrigue flashing in his crimson eyes.  

One way or another, he intended to find out.

Next day, he lost in thought on the way to interact with you, causing the Scottish man, Johnny a.k. Soap, to look at him questioning. Soap asked, “ Ghost? Come in, Ghost? Do you copy? Does anybody copy?” 

When Ghost didn’t respond, Price, their captain, said, elbowing lightly, “Lieutenant? Is something wrong?” 

Even though he didn’t show it, Ghost was slightly embarrassed from being caught. Ghost decided to see if he can gain any information from you. Ghost reposend, “Nothing Captain, however I was wondering about the new sniper-.” 

Ghost’s dark eyes flicked over the group, his posture remaining stoic despite the mild heat crawling up his neck. He wasn’t one to let emotions slip, but the collective smirks from Soap, Gaz, and Price were enough to stoke his irritation. He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest in that signature closed-off stance.  

“It’s nothing like that,” he muttered again, his voice gruff.  

Soap, sitting across the room cleaning his rifle, snorted. “Aye, nothing like that, but here ye are, askin’ about her during downtime. Curious timing, eh?” He grinned, his tone laced with mischief. “You’ve been watchin’ her, haven’t ye? Come on, admit it, Ghost. You’re interested.”  

Ghost shot him with a withering glare but didn’t bother responding to the jab.  

Gaz, lounging nearby, couldn’t resist joining in. “He’s right, mate. You don’t just bring someone up randomly unless they’ve caught your attention. What’s so special about her? She beat your record at the range or something?”  

Ghost sighed, the familiar weight of their teasing settling on his shoulders. He knew they wouldn’t let it go until he gave them an answer. Might as well give them just enough to get them off his back.  

“She’s a good soldier,” Ghost began, his tone measured, “disciplined, skilled, quiet—everything you’d want in a sniper. But...” He paused, searching for the right words. “There’s something... off about her.”  

The room grew still, the teasing air replaced by a quiet tension. Even Soap, usually the first to throw in another quip, remained silent as Price spoke.  

“Ghost, I understand your curiosity about the new sniper,” Price began, his voice low and steady. “Her quiet demeanor stands out, sure. But there’s more to it.”  

Ghost leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked on Price as he continued.  

“She’s a monster,” Price said bluntly, though his tone carried no malice. “I don’t know what kind, exactly. The higher-ups, of the program, didn’t give me much to work with. All they told me is that she’s one of a kind—a species we’ve never worked with before.”  

Price paused, running a hand down his face as if choosing his words carefully. “There are rules about her, Ghost. Strict ones. She’s to avoid unnecessary contact—physical or otherwise—and wear that specialized uniform at all times. Covers her whole body, even her eyes. It’s not just for her safety; it’s for everyone else’s too.”  

He sighed, his tone softening as he met Ghost’s gaze. “Whatever her reasons for keeping to herself, they’re not just personal. There’s more to this than you know. So... go easy on her, yeah?”  

The weight of Price’s words hung heavy in the air. Ghost remained silent, his mind racing. He hadn’t expected that. A monster? Sure, they worked alongside plenty of non-humans, but this... this was different. It explained her isolation, her avoidance of interaction.  

For the first time, Ghost felt a twinge of guilt for his curiosity. He wasn’t one to pry into others’ lives—especially not in a way that might make them feel vulnerable. But now, his interest felt less like simple observation and more like he’d been intruding on something deeply personal.  

Soap broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Damn... no wonder she acts like a stray cat.”  

Gaz nodded slowly, his earlier grin replaced by a thoughtful frown. “Guess she’s not just keeping her distance because she wants to.”  

Ghost sat back, arms crossed, processing what he’d just learned. A monster... one of a kind... He didn’t know what that meant for her, but he could only imagine the weight she carried.  

“Understood,” Ghost finally said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll leave her be.”  

Price nodded, satisfied with the response. “Good. Just let her do her job, Ghost. That’s all we need from her.”  

But as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, Ghost couldn’t shake the lingering questions in his mind. What kind of monster was she? And what kind of life had she led to end up here—isolated, hidden away in a base full of humans and monsters alike, yet tethered to rules that set her apart from everyone else?

Ghost stepped outside the base for a smoke, the crisp night air wrapping around him like a cold blanket. As he flicked the lighter in his gloved hand, his eyes naturally drifted to the familiar figure sitting under the old oak tree in the distance.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you there. Almost every night, you sat in the same spot, staring up at the endless expanse of the night sky. Ghost had made a habit of watching you from afar while lighting his last cigarette of the day.

But tonight, something was different.

A soft sound broke the stillness—a sneeze.

Ghost paused, his lighter hovering just above the tip of his cigarette. His promise to Price echoed in the back of his mind, urging him to leave you be. But the sight of you sitting there, blowing on your hands in an effort to keep warm, stirred something in him.

Before he could think better of it, he shrugged off his heavy jacket and made his way toward you, his boots crunching softly against the frosted grass.

You didn’t notice his approach until the jacket landed gently over your head, startling you. Pulling it off, you looked up, wide-eyed, and for the briefest moment, Ghost found himself captivated.

Your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, held a beauty that rivaled the night sky you so often gazed at.

The moment broke as you quickly turned your head away, fumbling to put on your glassware, a barrier between you and the world.

Ghost lit his cigarette, taking a slow drag as he stood a few feet away, the smoke curling upward like restless shadows. “Shouldn’t you have brought a jacket if you were planning to sit out here?”

Your voice was quiet, almost shy. “I did…” You glanced down at your hands before adding, “Well, someone seems to have taken it by accident.”

Ghost raised a brow, the corner of his lips twitching under his mask. “Is that so?”

You gave a small nod, pulling his jacket tighter around you. “It’s okay, though. I guess...”

“You guess?” Ghost exhaled a cloud of smoke, his tone laced with curiosity. “What kind of monster are you, walking out here in the cold like this?”

You paused, the corners of your lips curving upward into a soft, unexpected smile. Then, with a quiet giggle, you replied, “The succubus kind.”

The humor in your voice caught him off guard, and for a split second, Ghost found himself chuckling—soft and low, barely audible, but genuine.

“Is that right?” he said, leaning back slightly, watching you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t reply, your gaze drifting back to the stars. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was calm, like the night itself. Ghost didn’t push for more, letting the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the base fill the air.

For now, the questions that had been lingering in his mind could wait. In this moment, the quiet, unexpected connection felt like the beginning.

Slowly but surely, Ghost and you began to grow closer. The oak tree became your silent meeting place, a refuge under the endless expanse of the starry night sky. Conversations flowed naturally, though always from a careful distance. You never touched, and neither of you lingered on the other's gaze for too long. Still, the bond between you felt stronger than anything Ghost had experienced with most people on the base.

It wasn’t something he’d planned—or even wanted at first. Yet, he couldn’t deny the pull toward you. You were different. Quiet but sharp. Reserved yet sincere. And as the nights passed, he found himself looking forward to the moments spent with you under the oak tree.

Of course, Ghost wasn’t the only one who noticed. Soap and Gaz, ever the mischief-makers, seized every opportunity to tease him about his "new habit." Their remarks were relentless, poking fun at the idea of Ghost, the stoic, cold-blooded Lieutenant, sneaking off for nightly chats with the sniper who avoided everyone else.

"Oi, Simon," Soap smirked one evening in the mess hall. "When’s the wedding? Should we start plannin’ now or wait ‘til you finally confess under that tree?”

Ghost shot him a glare that could freeze hell, but it only made Gaz chuckle. "It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for, mate,” he said. “Next thing we know, she’ll have you writing poetry."

The teasing was relentless until Price intervened one day. With a sharp tone and a look that could silence a storm, he simply said, “That’s enough.”

Soap and Gaz immediately backed off, though Ghost could still feel their amused glances whenever your name came up.

But even with the jokes and teasing behind him, Ghost couldn’t shake the growing turmoil in his chest.

There was a problem.

You were a succubus—a being created to arouse and seduce humans. It was your nature, your very essence, to draw people in, to stir desires they couldn’t control. And while you never used your abilities on him—not once—Ghost couldn’t ignore the thoughts creeping into his mind.

What was this feeling? This pull toward you? Was it real? Or was he just another victim of what you were?

The worst part was that you never gave him a reason to doubt your intentions. You were respectful of his boundaries, cautious in your words, and never tried to manipulate him like the stories claimed succubi were prone to do.

And yet, the questions haunted him.

Was this bond between you genuine? Or was it just the natural effect of who—what—you were? 

Ghost wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out. 

As another night fell, Ghost found himself drawn to the oak tree once more. The familiar path felt heavier tonight, weighed down by the decision he’d made. When you came into view, sitting under the tree with that quiet, happy smile, the weight of his unanswered questions pressed harder on his chest. He wanted—no, needed—to know the truth about you. But the fear of what it might cost gripped him. What if it shattered everything? What if he lost you entirely?  

The thought made his steps falter, but he kept walking. He cherished these nights with you, the way you spoke about your past life and your dreams for the future. It gave him a glimpse of something softer, something kinder than the world he’d known. And more than that, you’d given him understanding.  

You had listened when he’d been at his most vulnerable, when the mask he wore—both literal and figurative—had slipped enough for him to confess his deepest fear: that he might one day become a monster, just like his father.  

But instead of pity or judgment, you had reassured him, your words calm and sincere. That moment stayed with him, replaying in his mind during the quiet hours when the weight of the world felt heaviest. For that, he was more thankful than he could ever express.  

Yet now, after making the decision to confess what had been building inside him, he wanted nothing more than to turn back, to forget it entirely. But he didn’t.  

He stopped next to you, his shadow falling over you as you looked up.  

"Ghost, what’s the matter?" you asked, your voice soft, concern lacing your words. Through your eyewear, your worry was clear.  

Ghost sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke before pulling the cigarette from his mouth. His voice was low, steady, but there was an uncharacteristic tension in it.  

“I... I want to ask—just hear me out. It’s about our relationship.”  

Your eyes narrowed slightly, watching him with careful curiosity. “What are you talking about?” you asked, but as you studied his demeanor, the realization hit you.  

“You caught feelings, didn’t you?” you said, the words almost a whisper. But before he could respond, you shook your head, standing abruptly. “They’re not real. They can’t be real.”  

“Don’t tell me what they are,” Simon interjected, his voice firm, his eyes locking onto yours. “That’s my decision to make.”  

You hesitated, shaking your head again, backing a step away. “But I’m a succubus,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “It can’t be real.” Turning, you made to walk away, convinced that leaving was the best choice—for both of you.  

However before you could take another step, Simon reached out and grabbed your arm, his grip was firm but not forceful, grounding you in place.  

“Just listen to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, steady but edged with an almost desperate calm.

You froze, standing still as his words hung in the air. Tears welled up in your eyes, betraying the conflict within you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, your gaze fixed on the ground as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Deep down, despite your protests and doubts, you hoped his feelings were real. You had wanted this—feared it—but wanted it all the same.

So you stayed, standing there in silence, listening as Ghost began to speak.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bloody fool,” he admitted, running a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “But the truth is… I was suspended by you. I couldn’t grasp how you isolate yourself from everyone. I watched, believing you were hiding something… but it wasn’t that.” His cheeks flushed beneath the mask, and for a moment, he looked almost embarrassed. “It’s not just that you caught my interest. It’s that you made me envious. Envious of how you carry others’ burdens without a word, how you take on the weight of the world and just keep moving. And… how you can slip into a room without making a sound, blending into the shadows, but in the quietest moments, you make everything else feel… less. You make the stars themselves dull in comparison to you.”

He paused, his breath catching slightly as he fought to keep his composure. His hands clenched at his sides, the usual stoic exterior wavering for the first time. His voice softened but grew firmer, as if he was speaking from some deep, vulnerable place that he’d never let anyone see before.

“Now I understand—living in this, being who you are, wasn’t easy for you. And I know I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not for anyone. But I know my feelings are real.” He took a slow step forward, gently pulling you closer, his fingers grazing your cheek before his thumb gently swept across your skin. Your breath hitched, and you met his gaze—those dark, intense eyes that never showed this side of him. 

With a quiet sigh, he took off your eyewear, his fingers trembling just slightly as they brushed against your face. “You may not want to believe it because you’re a succubus,” he continued softly, his voice thick with emotion. “But my heart tells me otherwise. It’s true, I can’t ignore what you are. But I won’t pretend my feelings aren’t real. I love you—with every fiber of my being.” His grip tightened just a fraction, but his gaze softened, searching yours for any sign of how you might feel. 

He swallowed hard before continuing, his words a mixture of certainty and quiet fear. “And if you still reject me, I will accept it. But I had to say it. I had to tell you… because I can’t live with this silence between us anymore.”

The air between you both thickened with the weight of his words, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Everything around you faded into the background, leaving only the sound of your quiet breaths and the racing of both your hearts. His confession hung between you like an unspoken promise—vulnerable, raw, and heavy. You could feel the sincerity in his tone, the raw vulnerability that slipped through the cracks of his usual stoic exterior. He wasn’t the same Ghost you knew—the one always guarded, always hidden behind his mask. Right now, he was just Simon. And in this moment, he was laying himself bare before you.

You were left standing there, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. His words, his touch, the emotions swirling inside you. You looked down, taking a deep breath as your mind tried to process everything. Simon watched you carefully, his dark eyes never leaving your face as he waited for your response. He could feel the weight of the silence between you, and even though his heart pounded in his chest, he stayed still—patient.

You slowly removed your gloves, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand. The first time you two had touched each other. Your hand hovered for a moment before gently cupping his, your skin warming against his. Simon’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened slightly. He could feel it—the connection, the electric charge that hummed between you both. His body burned with desire, the pull of your succubus powers undeniable, but he kept himself in check, waiting for you to speak.

Your voice was soft, sweet as honey, yet laced with a quiet fear that mirrored his own. "I love you too," you murmured, your gaze flickering to his eyes. "But I’m scared… that one day, you’ll see me as a monster."

Simon’s chest tightened at your words. He could feel the vulnerability in them, the raw honesty, and the fear you carried deep within your soul. But there was something else too—a love, a yearning that resonated in your touch, in your confession. It made his heart ache in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

He took a slow breath, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand, grounding you both in the moment. His voice was steady, but there was an undeniable softness in it now. "You’re not a monster to me. You’re everything but."

The sincerity in his tone was unwavering. He had already made up his mind. There was no turning back, no letting go of this connection he had found with you. He wasn’t afraid of you, not of your past or what you were. He only feared losing you. He leaned in, his eyes closing. Your lips were only inches apart, the tension palpable in the air, but he didn’t move—he was waiting for you.

You smiled, a quiet sense of peace settling over you, and before you knew it, you closed the distance, kissing Simon passionately. His body tensed at first, the warmth of your touch intoxicating, but then he melted into the kiss, his hand gently cradling the side of your face as the world around you ceased to exist.

But the moment didn’t last forever.

"Woooooo~!! Lieutenant, when’s the wedding?" Soap’s voice rang out from a distance, his tone teasing and loud, breaking the spell.

Before Simon could react, Price, his captain, slapped Soap on the back of the head with a grin. “Leave the lovebirds alone, Soap.”

You pulled back, chuckling softly at the interruption, while Gaz gave Simon a thumb up. Simon let out a sigh, shaking his head. The weight of his confession, the vulnerability of the moment, was quickly replaced by the warmth of shared laughter and affection. And despite the teasing, something told you both that this—this moment—was just the beginning of something much greater.

[yourcousin-vinny]

if we go with the idea that kallus grew up as a latchkey kid in the lower levels of coruscant and had to scrounge and make do until he got into the academy, you bet your ass he loved the military school routine. the routine was exhilarating. making lists and plans and being able to complete them? reliable daily schedules and meals? reliable rewards and consequences? addicting. he didn't have that kind of stability or time horizon growing up, so when he gets a routine he revels in it. he can plan for a future now.

of course, under the empire that means he (and everyone around him) subsumes himself to the routines and wills of the imperial machine. but at least he knows what to expect, even when it's terrible, even when it goes against what he fundamentally believes. and once he knows what to expect, he knows how he can subvert it as fulcrum. (imperial regularity is good for many things, including monitoring guard shift changes and tracking an admiral's meal times.)

as fulcrum though, that time horizon shrinks again. he doesn't expect to live beyond it, so what routine remains is a talisman he clings to. maybe that's how thrawn finally catches him: his irregular actions to throw people off his trail became too regular.

in the rebellion, newly defected, the freedom from such strict routines is overwhelming. some defectors go the ice-cream-for-breakfast route (or, like sabine, a clearly visible break from the empire's enforced conformity), but others don't know what to do with themselves. kallus throws himself into what he knows and what he misses: the work routine. input, output. task, complete.

the rebellion has a routine too, but in the way live theatre has a routine. there isn't always a closing bell; sometimes you hurry up and wait for six hours and then aren't off your feet for the next twelve. there are tasks and protocols, but you gotta be ready to adapt at any moment to what reality throws at you. (the empire rarely-if-ever had to adapt to what the rest of the galaxy threw at it because it was the rest of the galaxy.) there's a level of chaos that kallus is capable of handling, but that chaos is every day now. meals happen when he can get them, same with sleep, because the work routine he tries to set keeps getting broken. he never had to set a work-life balance before because it was either all life (all survival) or all work (and the empire tells you when to eat and sleep). the routines were always set for him.

so yes, kallus is infinitely glad he defected and yes, he is infinitely grateful to the ghost for taking him in, but little gods, how does anything get done?!

I think the first personal boundaries kallus sets that are his alone, not dictated by a higher institution, are about when the spectres are allowed to bother him (see: pester him to drink water and drag him to the tapcafe for a break) and when they need to leave him to his duty. it's nowhere near the routine that shaped him, and that's a good thing, but he does need some things to set his chrono by. he wakes at 0500; returns from a run by 0540; first cup of caf in yavin's pre-dawn light at 0610; draven enters intelligence at 0619. the rest of the day could be anything else, but these 4 are fairly consistent.

at some point he realizes that the time horizon he has now, in this life where very few things are guaranteed, is based less on when the mission is over or when the war is over and more on when he gets his next meal or sparring session with zeb or his next drink with rex or his next meeting with cassian. because all this work he does is for these people, and if they aren't in his future then it isn't worth it.

[gravehags]

desinare

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: awwww look it's a pre-relationship fic just like old times, dinner party, reader meeting the papas, reader and copia being awkward little weirdos with baby crushes, papa nihil slander, references to other curator reader fics

Words: 3,784

Summary: Your very kind cardinal friend has invited you for a meal with three Satanic popes. Surely there's a proverb about this.

a/n: i had so so so much fun writing this lmao i didn't realize how much i missed writing them pre-relationship. my beloved nerds.

~~~

“Eh, signorina?”

“Fuck!” you yelp, dropping the stack of folders you were holding in shock. “Shit…sorry Cardinal. How do you move so quietly with all that fabric on?”

“M-many years of practice, heh,” he kicks himself for how stupid he sounds, wringing his hands while you smile kindly up at him as you stoop to pick up your papers.

“Teach me how some time? I’m always falling over myself. I’d love to have even an ounce of your grace.”

He can feel his ears burn as a dopey grin spreads across his face. She complimented you. Now compliment her back. Go on, say something charming, idiota.

“Dancing!” he half-shouts, making you jump. You fucking fool. “I…I mean I learned how…how to be graceful from dancing. Ballet. In my youth.”

You’re making an impressed face now which is worlds better from the look of terror you previously wore when he barked at you like a senile chihuahua.

“The Cardinal is a dancer?” you murmur, eyes glittering, “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“Oh, it’s been years,” he blushes, “this old body doesn’t move the way it used to.”

He swears he sees your eyes flick up and down his form and a tiny smirk lift your lips.

“I don’t buy that for a second, Cardinal.”

Are you flirting with him? You turn to busy herself with organizing your folders but Copia can see the pink tinge at the tips of your ears.

“Do you like bolognese?” he says, once again loud and blunt. 

“I…what?”

“My…my fratelli and I - the Papas that is - would very much like to meet you. A-and share a meal with you. If you are interested?”

Your mouth forms a little “o”.

“There’s more than one Papa?” you ask, cocking your head. 

“Sì, sì, there is also eh, Papa Emeritus I and Papa Emeritus II, known as Primo and Secondo, respectively. Terzo you already know,” he grumbles, and your lips twitch.

“Three Satanic popes and a Cardinal. Wow…life sure comes at you fast, huh? Never expected this from a job offer.”

“So…is that a yes?”

“No,” you say and Copia’s face falls, “I mean - shit - sorry! A no about the bolognese. I don’t eat red meat. But a definite yes for the dinner, I’d love to meet some more people here! You’re very kind to have invited me.”

“Ah,” he waves his hand dismissively, but a smile still curls his lips, “We don’t get pretty new faces around here very often. It would be our pleasure.”

It doesn’t dawn on him what he said until he sees your lips silently form the damning word and your cheeks light up. Shit, why couldn’t he be normal around you?

“Anyway,” he says, his voice going up a humiliating octave, “would you be available this week? Friday evening, perhaps?”

“It’s a date. I mean–” you look as panicked as he feels at your wording, “--a dinner date. W-with your…with the Papas. And yourself. Sorry, where should I meet you? I’m uh, still familiarizing myself with the abbey. This place is huge.”

“Eh, how about I meet you at your office and I’ll lead the way from there, sì?”

“Sì. I mean, yes. Is there a…should I dress a certain way?”

An image is conjured in his mind of you in a pretty cocktail dress, heels lifting your shapely calves and your decolletage on display—

He shakes his head to rid himself of the vision.

“Uh…dress in whatever is most comfortable. Undoubtedly Secondo will put you to work in the kitchen so–”

“Oh good,” you say, “I mean my culinary talents are uh…definitely lacking but I’d be happy to help and keep busy. Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, and all that. Well…something like that anyway, I’m not sure if there’s a Satanic version. Anyway I am definitely blabbering on so feel free to ignore…literally everything that just came out of my mouth.”

You’re embarrassed. As if he couldn’t listen to you talk and talk and talk for eternity. He’s about to tell you something to that effect before his brain yanks him away. Bit much for only knowing her a month, fool. Instead he gives you a friendly nod, and bows slightly.

“I’ll eh, see you Friday then yes? At 6:00?”

“Sounds perfect. And…thank you. I don’t remember if I said it or not but thank you for making this place feel like home.”

He feels as if his heart is about to burst from his ribcage.

“Signorina,” he murmurs, “it is my honor. Ciao.”

“Ciao, Cardinal,” you say softly as he turns and exits your office. He doesn’t see the way you collapse into your desk chair with a dreamy sigh.

—

You’re going to be late.

As soon as your work day ended you hustled up to your apartment and began getting ready but it’s now 5:41 and you still have no idea what the fuck you’re going to wear. Half your wardrobe lies scattered on your bedroom floor (you know it’s going to make you insane when you return later that night but fuck you can’t remember what clothes you even own) as you stand in the center of the room in your underwear.

“Okay. Okay you’re going to meet three Satanic popes,” the sentence has a delirious laugh bubbling out of your throat. “Three Satanic popes and one…sweet…handsome…Cardinal. What is the correct choice.”

You eye a snug, knee length burgundy velvet cocktail dress to your left. You’ve been saving this one for a while - for a real special occasion. You would undoubtedly impress but…nah. Too much. To your right is a pair of mom jeans - you pick them up and give them a tentative sniff - acceptably clean. You toss the jeans onto your bed behind you. Okay now for a top. How about…ah! You spy a soft, dark green sweater in a pile and snatch it up. Cozy, comfortable, and practical. Perfect. As for shoes…your well-loved black Chelsea boots should do the trick. You look down at your watch.

5:48

Shit! Almost tripping more than once you jump into your jeans and pull the sweater over your head, tucking it halfway into your waistband. You don’t have the time or the patience to put any makeup on beyond a few swipes of mascara and a dark red lipstick and when you make it out the door with your phone and keys, it’s five to six. You briskly power walk the entire trip to your office and by the time you’re standing outside the door, you’re clutching your side and heaving for breath. You pray to whoever is listening that the Cardinal is a little late so you have a chance to compose yourself but before you can even form the thought–

“Signorina?”

You spin on the spot, trying to look as casual as possible.

“Cardinal!” you rasp. “Uh…hi.”

“You look lovely,” he says with an anxious little smile that gives you butterflies, “you’re glowing, signorina.”

“Thanks, it’s the sweat.”

You ought to be taken out back and shot like Old Yeller.

To your immense relief, he doesn’t look disgusted but instead seems to relax as if your odd faux-pas cuts the tension. Chortling, he gestures for you to follow him with a gloved hand.

“What’s for dinner?” you ask, as the two of you proceed down the hall.

“You’ll have to ask Secondo that, I have no idea what the maestro has planned for us this evening.”

“Sounds ominous,” you smile.

“Eh, sì. He is.”

Oh God.

“Your week has gone well?” Copia asks, adeptly changing the subject.

“Yes, just you know. Trying to make sense of everything von Schreck left me with. Can’t help but feel his presence looming over me whenever I change something he did. Did you know him well?”

“Not well, no. He was a quiet man, kept to himself. His eh, mind started to go, in the end. Became paranoid.”

“Ah. Explains his cataloging system then. If you can call it that.”

You realize you’re now in a wing of the abbey you’ve never seen before - a long hallway with a dark red rug running the length of it and arched doors. Copia stops at one that is open and gestures inside with a nervous smile.

It’s a kitchen. A very large, very well equipped kitchen with a massive island and high ceilings. There are three men standing inside it - you recognize one of them and the other two are staring in your direction. The tallest (and from what you can tell, the oldest) has a soft smile on his face. The other is also tall but broad where the older figure was slim, the overhead light glinting off his bald head. Terzo hops down off the counter, swirling a glass of wine and grinning. You’re suddenly aware of four pairs of the same mismatched eyes boring into you.

“Uh. Hi.”

The three Papas are on you like flies on honey in a snap, pulling you into the warmth of the kitchen while Copia removes his black biretta and wrings his gloved hands. With a shaky voice he introduces you to the two you are unfamiliar with and to Terzo he simply gives a hard stare.

“It’s an honor to meet all of you,” you murmur, smiling around the room, “Wow, three Satanic popes. I haven’t even met one uh…regular pope. Not to say you aren’t ‘regular’ or ‘normal’, of course. The Satanic versions are so much more interesting.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Do you drink?” the bald, mustachioed one - Secondo - asks.

“Please,” you sigh in relief. He gestures you over to the counter.

“What do you know about Italian wines, piccolina?”

Piccolina? You remind yourself to look that up whenever you manage to take a bathroom break.

“Uh, not much. That is to say…nothing.”

He smirks. You know immediately this man is a heartbreaker.

“I will teach you. This riserva is from the Ministry’s vineyards in Piedmont. Made from Nebbiolo grapes.” He pours you a generous glass which you swirl delicately in your hand before leaning in to sniff.

“Oh! I’m definitely getting…red fruits, perhaps cherries? Something mineral, like the way a damp cave smells. Hold on–”

You take a sip as Secondo watches you carefully.

“Wow that’s gorgeous,” you gush, “I didn’t smell the rose element but I definitely taste it. You said the Ministry made this?”

“Sì,” he nods, as he pours more into your glass, “I’m pleased you like it, you have excellent taste.”

“Oh, I really don’t,” you smile, “you’d cringe if I told you some of the swill I find acceptable. Particularly what I drank in college.”

He laughs loudly.

“What kind of self-respecting American college student drinks wine?”

“One from California, that’s what,” you smirk.

“Secondo stop hogging our guest,” Terzo calls from the other side of the room. “I want to see her pretty face.”

Secondo ushers you over to the small breakfast table where Copia sits with the other two Papas before leaving to fetch several wine glasses.

“Don’t you look bellissima tonight,” Terzo grins, and you blush as he gives you a very obvious once-over. That smile disappears though when he jerks violently, slamming his knee up under the table.

“Stronzino, that hurt,” he hisses at Copia, who has carefully schooled his face into a neutral expression. 

Huh. Wonder what that was all about.

You’re distracted by Primo softly saying your name and you turn to the older man with a smile.

“Are you enjoying life at the abbey so far?”

Ah. Well about that. You want to lie - to tell him everything has been smooth sailing but something about the way he looks at you instantly makes you want to be more candid.

“It’s um. It’s been…a lot,” you say, looking down into your wine glass, “The Cardinal is really the only one who speaks to me outside of Sister Imperator. I-I haven’t got out of my apartment much except to go to work. I’m a little self-conscious about exploring, to be honest.”

Primo gives you a gentle smile.

“Do you know where the greenhouses are, fiore mio?”

Fiore mio. Another one for the list.

“I think I know where the gardens are but I’m not sure if they’re nearby–”

“They are.” he says, “Sister Imperator…doesn’t have much use for an old relic like me. I spend my time tending to all that grows here. With some assistance from my ghouls.”

“Ghouls?” you ask, cocking your head.

He smiles.

“Ah, you haven’t met any yet, have you? Well I won’t spoil the surprise. I’m sure the Cardinal would love to tell you about them some time. Anyway, all this to say…please come visit me when you have the opportunity, sì? Ah, that reminds me,” he gets up and walks through an adjacent doorway to what you assume is the dining room. When he returns, he’s bearing a bouquet of vibrant pink dahlias in a glass vase.

“Oh!” you say, setting down your wine glass as Primo places the flowers on the table in front of you.

“For you, cara. To welcome you.”

You’re squeezing the meat of your thigh as hard as you can under the table to keep from crying but the tears well up in your eyes all the same.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he reaches out to take your hand into his long, wizened one.

“Cazzo, are you making her cry, you old fuck?” Terzo grouses.

“Terzo!” Copia says with a sharpness you’ve never heard from him before. You’re not sure if it’s the wine but you’re definitely picking up on some tense vibes between the two of them.

“Uh, need help with dinner, Secondo?” you ask, trying to cut the awkwardness.

“Most of it is already finished but you are welcome to assist with the antipasti. Forgive the lack of aperitivo but someone forgot to pick up olives today.”

Secondo glares across the room at Copia, who turns beet red.

“That’s okay, I don’t like olives anyway,” you say cheerily. Primo groans.

“Ugh! Philistine!” Secondo snaps, making a sharp gesture, “Get over here and atone for your sins before I kick you out of my kitchen, piccolina.”

Now your face is red.

“Yes, Papa,” you murmur obediently as you rise from the table, missing the way the four men look at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Va bene,” Secondo says gruffly as you approach the island, leaning over to pour more wine in your glass, “Do you know how to toast bread?”

You give him a look.

“I think I can handle toast,” you scoff, setting down your glass. “Are we making bruschetta?” 

He favors you with a nod and a half-smile. A point in your favor.

“Here is the olive oil,” he says, gesturing to his left, “here is the balsamic. I have already diced the tomatoes and here,” he turns and opens the large refrigerator, coming back with a healthy amount of burrata, “is the cheese. Think you got it?”

“I…think so? Wait, do you have a grill for me to use or…”

He hands you a square metal pan with holes perforated in it.

“You’ve used a brustolina before?”

No, you have not used a brustolina before.

“How hard can it be? Don’t worry about me, please go sit down.”

He gives you one last sideway glance before snagging his wine glass off the table and joining his brothers. 

Ten minutes later, Terzo is standing on the breakfast table waving a rag in front of the aggressively beeping smoke detector as Copia looks as mortified as you feel.

“It’s alright, fiore mio,” Primo soothes as you sniffle, staring at the charred remains of what used to be several slices of sourdough bread.

“It’s toast. I cannot believe I actually fucked up toast.”

Copia scurries to your side and Primo steps away to make room. When your head thunks heavy against his shoulder he wraps an arm around you, making soothing noises. 

You don’t see Terzo thrusting violently into the air with a wide grin on his face, still standing on the table but you do see Secondo yank him down when he lets out an undignified squawk. The noise has you choking out a laugh, and you turn to Copia to see him staring down at you with a painfully soft expression.

“It’s nothing, piccolina,” Secondo says, unhanding his brother, “We didn’t need bruschetta anyway. Prometto. The real star is coming soon. Please–” he picks up your wine glass and gives you yet another generous pour, “--go take a seat. Enjoy the company of the Cardinal, and Primo, and my other idiot brother.”

You nod, accepting your glass.

“Sorry,” you murmur, and you feel Copia’s hand rub warm circles on the small of your back. You’d be willing to burn all the toast in the abbey if this is what you got out of it.

“It’s nothing, signorina, truly,” he says quietly in your ear, leading you back over to the table. Secondo efficiently dumps the cremated bread into the garbage and puts an apron over his head which reads “Osculari Coquum.” 

By the time Secondo tells the four of you to take your seats in the dining room you are…pleasantly tipsy and incredibly hungry. The smells coming from the kitchen are so decadent, you can feel yourself salivating. 

“Here we are,” Secondo says, entering the room with a loaded plate, which he places in front of you, “Pollo alla cacciatora con riso.”

You have to sit on your hands to keep from rudely digging in before the others have been delivered their meals but as soon as Secondo sits down, you’re ready to strike. Before you can, Primo speaks up.

“I would like to toast our lovely new friend. To your health and happiness. May you find a home here amongst us. Benvenuta nostra sorella. Ave Sathanas.”

Sorella. The word sounds familiar, as if you’ve heard it in the abbey halls before. It makes a warmth bloom in your chest that you’re certain cannot be attributed solely to the wine.

“Grazie mille,” you murmur with a smile. “Thank you all for having me this evening, I appreciate it more than you know.”

Copia’s hand, resting next to yours on the table, twitches and ever-so-slightly his gloved pinkie finger brushes against yours. You look at him out of the corner of your eye but he’s staring diligently down at his plate, mustache twitching as he fights to smile. The sight makes your heart thud in your chest. It’s as if the two of you are in your own little world, oblivious to everyone else despite the fact that neither of you openly acknowledge the other. It’s a breathtaking feeling and you wish you could put your finger on what is so special about this peculiar man.

“Bella, if you don’t eat that I’m going to eat it for you.”

Terzo is staring at you from across the table, mouth full of chicken cacciatore. The whole room, in fact, is staring at you.

“Shit! Right! Sorry I was…I don’t know where I was. Hmm.”

The four men once again exchange a look as you politely dig into your chicken and rice. It’s divine, as you knew it would be. The conversation flows wonderfully, the Papas all eagerly explaining the Ghost project to you.

“So you are all part of the same band?”

“We each had our terms,” Primo explains, “I was the first, Secondo was second, and now Terzo is the third.”

Your brow furrows as you mouth their names and something clicks.

“I’m sorry, you’re all brothers and you’re named first, second, and third? Who does that to their kids?”

Copia snorts into his glass at your candidness.

“Our idiot father, that’s who,” Primo says, and you’re shocked at his venomous tone, “You’ve met Papa Nihil, have you not?”

Oh. You’ve met Papa Nihil alright.

“Ah…yes. Yes, we’ve met. I don’t think he cares much for me.”

Terzo laughs.

“We all have that in common, bella mia! Consider it a badge of honor.”

You don’t quite know what to say to that and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

“So,” Secondo begins, “you must listen to each of our albums and tell us which one you like best, sì?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m qualified to properly judge that sort of thing–”

“We insist,” Terzo says imperiously, “I want nothing less than an album ranking and your overall top five songs. Cardinal, see to it that she gets educated.”

“I don’t see how this is my area of expertise,” Copia says sullenly, stabbing at what remains of his chicken. “It’s not my band.”

Hmm. Another frisson of tension.

Interesting.

“If everyone is done with their meal, shall we move back into the kitchen for dessert? Piccolina, how do you feel about gelato?”

Your cheeks redden at the moan that escapes your mouth. Copia coughs sharply at your side, having turned red himself.

“What’s your favorite flavor, bella mia?” Terzo asks, rising from the table as you do.

“Stracciatella, definitely, but I will never say no to chocolate.”

“Ah! A woman after my own heart! Copia do you hear this? She likes stracciatella.”

The Cardinal remains seated, nodding distractedly. As you exit the room you see Primo move closer to him and put a hand on his back, leaning in to speak quietly.

—

“Oh topolino…she’s just as lovely as you said. Kind, smart, beautiful. Burns bruschetta but eh, no one is perfect.” Primo smiles as Copia looks up at him in earnest.

“Papa…I really like her.”

It’s the first time he’s voiced his feelings out loud and he can feel the flush on his cheeks creeping down his chest.

“I know, ragazzo mio. And you know what? I think she really likes you too.”

Copia’s heart skips a beat.

“Really? You think so? I-I want to do something nice for her, something she deserves but I’m not sure–”

“Spend time with her,” Primo says, smiling, “She is very lonely. Continue to be the friend you have been thus far - that’s what she deserves.”

“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” Copia murmurs, “Surely she’ll tire of me or–”

“Surely nothing of the sort,” Primo says firmly. “If she cares for you as I suspect she does, she will welcome you into her heart. All parts of you, not just the best ones. You’ll see, topolino. Prometto.”

“Grazie,” Copia whispers as Primo places a kiss on his forehead.

“Hey you two what flavor–oh, I’m sorry, I’m interrupting something.”

You move to exit the room but Copia stands abruptly.

“No, please. Stay.”

You smile. If only he knew now how you’d take that request to heart.

[polo-drone-070]

A Golden Half-Time Performance - part 2/2

part 1

The Final Rehearsal – Perfection in Every Note

The night before the Super Bowl Half-Time Show, Elijah and I rehearsed late into the evening.

Master Percival had long since retired to his suite, trusting us to perfect our performance without his immediate supervision. That trust was everything—a sign that he believed in our ability to deliver excellence.

We stood before the ornate gold-rimmed mirror, our immaculate reflections staring back at us. Our crisp white shirts, our snug gold V-neck sweater, our golden bowties, our perfectly pressed chino shorts—not a single detail out of place. Our posture flawless, our smiles ever-present.

"Gold is unity, Gold is might— Bound in service, pure and bright. Through each trial, through each fight— Gold prevails with shining light!"

Elijah nodded in approval, his golden cufflinks glinting in the warm light.

"Better, Maximus," he praised. "Your articulation is vastly improved. But be mindful of your breath control—proper preppy boys must never sound rushed."

"Yes, Elijah!" I beamed, adjusting my bowtie with care. "I shall ensure each note flows effortlessly."

He smirked. "That’s a good preppy boy."

The praise sent a shiver of delight through me.

Praise was everything. Validation was everything.

Because a Gold Preppy Boy lived to conform. To serve. To be perfect.

As we finished the final verse, Elijah placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Tomorrow, Maximus, we stand before thousands. We sing not for ourselves, but for the Gold, for our Bros. We must be impeccable."

I met his gaze, my chest swelling with pride.

"We shall be, Elijah. We shall be flawless, so our Gold Bros can be unstoppable."

With a final nod, we adjusted our cuffs, our collars, our smiles, and retired for the night.

Dawn of Game Day – Serve with a Smile

Before the first light of morning touched the stadium, I was already awake.

Because a good Gold Preppy Boy always rises early—especially when there was service to be done.

As usual, I dressed immaculately and prepared Master Percival’s breakfast with flawless precision—his coffee brewed to the exact temperature, his meal arranged in perfect symmetry. A perfect morning routine that I found warm comfort in.

Standing at attention, hands neatly clasped, I awaited his arrival. When Master entered, immaculate as always in his tailored gold silk suit, I straightened, heart swelling with eager devotion.

"Good morning, Master," I greeted with a polite smile. "Your breakfast is prepared exactly to your preference."

A sip. A pause. A nod of approval.

Warmth flooded my chest. Master was pleased. That was all that mattered.

The Final Preparations – Order in Every Detail

The morning hours were spent in meticulous last-minute checks.

Everything had been planned, budgeted, and scheduled to perfection in the preceding weeks—but now, it was time for final precision checks. Every last detail had to be reviewed, every cue perfectly understood, every person in position for the big day.

I moved efficiently, ensuring that each performer knew their timing, that every sequence was locked into place. The VIP seating was finalized, the pre-game logistics were confirmed, and every team involved—from the polo-drones to the mascots—had their final instructions.

As the Gold Bros arrived for their final pre-game drills, I oversaw their preparations with my usual polite diligence, ensuring everything was set for their warm-ups and preparing to join them on the field. I was ready to play today.

As much as I was a Gold Preppy Boy, perfectly polished and eager to serve, I was also a footballer—a part of the team. I would be on that field, following every play, giving my all, proving my worth—not just through my diligence, but through my performance.

Two duties. Two roles.

One purpose.

To honor the Gold in everything I did.

Kickoff – A Perfect Transition

As the game began, I took my place as Football Drone 070, my mind erased, my body programmed for peak athletic efficiency.

There were no thoughts.

Only commands.

Only flawless obedience.

Only performance.

But when half-time approached, the visor was removed—

And Maximus the Preppy Boy was immediately restored.

With no hesitation, I rushed to the locker room, swiftly changing back into my preppy uniform.

The Gold Preppy Choir was waiting.

It was time.

The Half-Time Show – Singing for Gold

As the booming whistle signaled the end of the second quarter, the stadium buzzed with anticipation. Fans were on their feet, eager for the Golden Army’s Half-Time Show, knowing it would be a spectacle of discipline, energy, and unity.

Elijah stood at the forefront of the Gold Preppy Choir, his immaculate uniform gleaming under the bright stadium lights. His posture was pristine, his golden bowtie adjusted to perfect symmetry.

I took my place beside him, standing tall, my hands folded neatly in front of me, my smile unwavering. Every Gold Preppy Boy around us was dressed to perfection—crisp white button-ups tucked precisely into very short gold shorts, sleeveless golden V-neck sweaters snugly fitted, polished brown leather belts securing our outfits in perfect symmetry. Our loafers gleamed under the stadium lights, golden argyle socks reaching neatly to mid-calf.

No one fidgeted. No one was out of line.

Because a Gold Preppy Boy was always composed. Always flawless. Always proud to serve.

The lights dimmed, and a golden spotlight illuminated our choir.

Then, the music swelled, and with a perfectly synchronized breath, we sang.

The Anthem of Gold

"Gold is unity, Gold is might— Bound in service, pure and bright. Through each trial, through each fight— Gold prevails with shining light!"

The first verse rang out, crisp and impeccably enunciated. Each word delivered with absolute precision, our voices blending in harmonious perfection.

We lifted our hands in unison, palms open, a gesture of devotion and discipline.

Elijah, his voice clear and commanding, led the next verse:

"Brothers forged in sweat and steel, Golden hearts that never yield. Every pass, each goal, each run, For the Cap, the team, the game is won!"

My chest swelled with pride.

We sang for our Bros—for their strength, their dedication, their unstoppable spirit on the field.

The Gold Team wasn’t just a team.

It was a legacy.

And we were here to honor them.

The music built in intensity, and we stepped forward as one, moving with the grace of a well-trained unit.

"Proud we stand, so sharp, so neat— Smiling bright with voices sweet. Preppy boys in Gold’s embrace, Poised in style, refined in grace!"

The crowd roared in approval, enthralled by the sight of our perfect formation.

Our loafers tapped in time to the rising beat, our bowties remaining firmly in place, our golden V-neck sweaters hugging our torsos, our golden shorts showcasing pristine, smooth thighs as we lifted our arms in flawless synchronization.

"Gold forever, bold and true, Loyal hearts to Cap and Crew! Rise in order, rise in song, Golden Army, marching strong!"

The stadium exploded with applause.

The Gold Preppy Choir held the final note, our chins high, our smiles unwavering, our posture immaculate.

And as the last echoes of our anthem faded, Elijah and I exchanged a knowing glance.

Perfection had been achieved.

Master Percival would be proud.

The Standing Ovation

The audience erupted, their cheers deafening.

Even from a distance, I could see Master Percival watching from the VIP section, his golden eyes sharp, appraising.

He nodded.

And in that moment, every ounce of effort had been worth it.

We had done it.

We had been impeccable.

We had been perfect.

And as I stood there, beaming, heart pounding with pride, I knew—

I had served Master well.

I had made the Gold proud.

I was a Gold Preppy Boy.

And I would never be anything else…

…until Master decides otherwise.

_____________ Thanks to Master Percival (@polo-drone-001) and my brother Elijah (@eliasgold20) for guiding me on the Gold preppy path.

To join the Gold, to become a preppy waterboy, an eager cheerful mascot or a confident jock player, contact our recruiters @polo-drone-001, @goldenherc9 or @brodygold.

[ashwantsafreepalestine]

19 March 2025.

“While everyone was eating the pre-dawn meal (suhour), the Al-Hattab family's home was suddenly attacked by Israeli airstrikes.

Search operations continued under the rubble for six continuous hours, resulting in the recovery of the bodies of eight martyrs, while 22 people remain missing.”

Fucking filthy Israeli pigs.

(source)

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: mention of violence, crimes, murder, sexual harassment (towards reader), reader has a few prejudices towards kazutora's previous lifestyle, pre-relationship, getting together, miscommunication, kazutora's building confidence and probably a bit ooc, reader works in a bakery, chifuyu matchmaking and being a little shit, she/her - afab character

When your roommate had asked you whether you’d mind an old acquaintance crashing at your shared apartment for a few days, you had been quite welcoming.

Then Chifuyu had added that said acquaintance was on the lookout for an apartment because he had been in jail - juvie first and then jail - and that’s when you had grown reasonably nervous. 

You hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to Chifuyu, although your comfortability was at risk; your friend had oftentimes chipped in when you couldn’t make rent after the investment of opening your bakery and he was the main reason why you could do something you enjoyed.

Still, when he had come back home with his friend - Kazutora - you had been nervous, having organized the house as your mother would have done when a guest stayed over, going over and over through every room although Chifuyu had explained that Kazutora would stay more in the guest room. 

He had also insisted that you’d have takeout but somehow it had felt like the least you could do was offer a homemade meal, if anything because - as it was your line of work - baking was your passion and consolation.

High-strung as a violin string, you had been surprised when Chifuyu’s friend had appeared to be damnably handsome. 

The photo that you had found through a quick research - which had felt painfully close to an invasion of his privacy - didn’t do him any justice, especially considering that he had seemed to have grown in prison and now sported a monotone hair color. 

On top of it, he looked painfully… afraid, almost like a wounded animal that was looking back at the first aiders while stuck in a trap.

Chifuyu had led most of the conversation and when you had mentioned dinner being halfway done, he had promptly shut the two of you down, explaining that he wasn’t hungry and he preferred to go straight up to sleep. 

“I also already showered before they let me…” he had stopped, answering Chifuyu’s prompt invitation, before looking down at the tip of his shoes “... either way, I hope you enjoy dinner. I will be… in my room, if you don’t mind”.

Chifuyu had then guided him to the guest room, returning quickly with a look that had you wondering whether he was doubting his choice, although any hint of displeasure had been rained away while you shared dinner and talked about anything but the matter at hand, for which you were thankful since you suddenly felt conflicted.

Shouldn’t you feel… still at unease? 

You had discovered, through your research, the reason why Kazutora had been in juvie and in all truth, it had felt so… gruesome and yet, you couldn’t place the man with his head hung between his shoulders and the hooligans described in the public documents.

And again, he was damnably handsome.

The thought had been enough not to have you sleeping which was a terrible thing since, as a baker, you had to be up at the crack of dawn especially when you handled catering services like that day; baking wasn’t half the problem as packaging and driving everything so it’d arrive intact and on time, although thankfully once the whole mission was finished and the party ended, you were free to go back home and get the sleep that hadn’t gotten the previous night.

Except, in your merry program, you had obviously forgotten about your newest roommate.

Chifuyu had sent you messages across the day about Kazutora, mostly that he had proposed to him to join him on his work at the pet shop, meanwhile he was on the lookout for something more suitable or considered going back to school.

He had sent back happy emojis once he had revealed that Kazutora had been positive about the matter, although you couldn’t reconcile the thought of the sullen man with anything positive. 

Till you caught sight of the man slightly humming while eating the portion of food of the previous night, that you and Chifuyu had left behind for a late snack.

You weren’t exactly angry about it.

Well, in part you were: those were your leftovers and he hadn’t even acknowledged your hard work the previous night.

Still, he looked… at ease for once that you completely forgot about your own discomfort with him.

How could you be uncomfortable when he looked so happy simply eating some microwaved food?

And yet, his expression changed quickly upon catching sight of you; you thought for a moment he’d have darted away as a child caught with his hands down the cookie jar - which was the most similar situation you could imagine with the one in front of you - but he quickly stilled himself although from the way his feet lightly tutted against the stool of the kitchen, you could tell he wanted to run.

Away from you.

And that’s when you finally felt something snap inside: you wanted to talk with this guy, uncaring of whether he had the ability to probably kill you with a spoon, if anything to make him feel at ease and using your food as an eternal excuse, you asked him:

«How is it?».

He looked taken aback, looking around as if he thought that you were speaking with an imaginary friend since he was the sole one in the apartment at this hour in the day, considering Chifuyu would be back at normal closing time.

«Ahem… sorry, I… what?».

You pointed to the food containers on the table, making sure to relax your frown.

«How was it?» you repeated the question «I have tried this new flour and Chifuyu insisted that they do seem lighter but I couldn’t determine it, so I might... need a second opinion».

 Somehow, you couldn’t help but think for a moment that you had worsened the situation, as Kazutora kept on having that deer caught in the headlight look, which would have been adorable considering he had been halfway through swallowing a bite and it gave him the famished squirrel look.

Still, as the silence stretched past comfort point, you worried that you had ruined any potential relationship, hanging your own head between your shoulders and considering not having to spend any more time making him feel uncomfortable in the kitchen.

«It was… I… I am not sure about light but I… the flavor is…» and then as if a sudden train of thought hit him, he added «Wait… you… you did this?!».

You nodded a bit taken aback and smiled sheepishly, especially as you were unsure whether he meant it positively or negatively; you had been cooking for enough time to know that you were quite good, but you also were well aware that at times people could have different tastes. 

Especially terrible ones.

«It certainly wasn’t Chifuyu after the last incident with the oven» you joked, as you’d have done with a normal acquaintance, quickly finding that it wasn’t that difficult although every common sense bone in your body told you to run. 

And yet, it was worth it when Kazutora’s face opened in a slight laugh, not yet a full one but it was adorable, especially with the way he scrunched his nose childishly.

Did he even know that you now wished to kiss it?

«Is he… is he still that bad?».

«Listen…» you started and in a boost of confidence, you moved to the kitchen aisle, choosing the stool that was the farthest to Kazutora but leaning closer to him «… my mom taught me that people aren’t ever not able to cook. Oftentimes they are just lazy and… well, the gist is that till I met Chifuyu, I truly thought that people could always learn how to cook».

This time you were rewarded by a prompt laugh and you quickly joined.

«He wrote to me… about… about almost setting the apartment on fire when he went to heat up some milk» he recounted, growing shy the moment that he finished the tell and you weren’t sure whether it was a sudden moment or the mention of letters; if there was one thing that you and Chifuyu had discussed before his arrival was not to bring up his past or his time spent behind bars, so you were quick to ignore that.

«Oh yeah, I had to… and please don’t laugh… Chifuyu-proof the whole apartment».

And just like that the discomfort was gone as you and Kazutora went onto bonding on your shared teasing of your common friend, quickly finding your footing with ease as you felt like you were simply getting to know a friend of a friend. 

A new friend, actually.

“You know… you kind of stole my dinner” oh huge golden eyes filled with guilt, enough that you felt a bit mean for your comment, quickly adding “... still, it was your dinner yesterday so I won’t act too offended, as long as you give me full and honest feedback on it. I am truly working on perfecting my technique by the start of next week as I think it’s bound to be a perfect recipe for the incoming good season”.

Discovering you were a baker had taken Kazutora aback, and he had listened attentively - which was a testament to his good character as you did blabber… a lot - while you recounted your struggles and accomplishment and your future plans, till the slamming of the entrance told you both that your small moment of bonding was interrupted by Chifuyu.

Who looked smug seeing you cozy up to each other, and Kazutora looked painfully close to a cherry tomato, as if caught doing something worse than simply eating your leftovers, retreating to his room with an excuse while Chifuyu sent you a stealthy look.

“So, what were you talking about before I walked in?”.

“Well, just of how bad of a cook you are, my dear”.

From then on, it was safe to say that any worry that you had towards Kazutora was gone; it wasn’t that he didn’t struggle nor he could be menacing at times - he might be all lean, but you had once accidentally walked on him changing in the bathroom and he was definitely built - but there was a building genuine relationship between the two of you. 

It hadn’t gotten to the part where he’d open himself fully to you, but you had noticed that he’d come to you when he’d need help with things around the house and recently he had started to recount to you his days, after you had joked with Chifuyu that he never told you about his own.

On top of the genuine happiness you felt at Kazutora’s change of heart, you had to admit you harbored a crush towards the man; you had tried to suppress it, blaming it onto the fact that you found him smoking hot, but there was something endearing in his genuine intent to better himself up and to stick to his own moral code. 

At times, you also saw glimpses of the cocky boy he must have been before … before everything.

Still, the crush felt… like bad news in your mind: it felt predatory as you couldn’t help but think that he was downright nervous and definitely vulnerable, especially considering you were forced to share time and space daily. 

You didn’t want to push your feelings onto him, preferring to keep in check. 

And failing to do so as Chifuyu had noticed and had been teasing you right back for it.

“... hhm, didn’t think that I’d have created a new couple by asking him to move with us. Remember to thank me on your wedding day”.

It was annoying, awful and you wished to rip your hair out each time Kazutora would compliment the leftovers you brought to him, although technically they weren’t leftovers. 

You just… you cooked a bit more for him, as you knew he enjoyed tasting new food and homemade meal… and oh God, you were as down bad as Chifuyu was saying.

That’s why you obviously had to ruin it with your big fat mouth.

In your defense, you had a drink in you since Chifuyu had taken advantage of Kazutora’s absence to drink at home together as you tended to do to unwind after longer days; Kazutora had been invited by some old friends to hang around and albeit it was obvious that it weighed on Chifuyu’s mind - you could only guess these people had to be former members of other bikers gangs that weren’t Fuyu’s own - neither of you had the heart to shut down Kazutora, when he asked your permission as if he needed it, excepting to be denied.

On top of it, it was a very good period for him: he had told you both that he was considering starting school again - night courses while he did part-time at the pet shop - and that felt like he might have found a direction in his life after wandering aimlessly since his liberation.

So, of course, he was on your mind. He was there a whole lot.

«… thank you, again for doing this…» Chifuyu was the first one who brought him up though, so technically the events that unfolded were his fault «… didn’t think that you’d accept this so easily, you know? I know… I put a lot of… pressure onto you».

«I owed it to you» first strike «… you know… it wasn’t like I also didn’t trust your judgement. I might have been a bit nervous about it, but…».

«… but my roomie is now in loveeeee….».

You flustered, lightly knocking your shoulder against his.

«Don’t say stuff like that!» you protested promptly.

«Oh c’mon! You are even worse than Takemitchy and Hina!» he protested much to your utter bewilderment.

«I am not… we aren’t… it isn’t… it isn’t like that!».

«It is!» Chifuyu insisted «… c’mon… you can’t say that he is that bad…».

«He isn’t. Truly» you started with how swiftly you spoke, hating yourself for it and how easily you revealed your true feelings «I… it startled me… you know… it’s almost like… he didn’t go to prison. Like sometimes I wonder how he can be the one who… who did those things, you know?».

Chifuyu shot you a quick understanding look as he went to take a long sip from his bottle, making you suddenly feel so stupidly superficial; it had been his best friend that Kazutora had killed that day, the reason why he had been behind bars for ten years and you couldn’t even begin to think how Chifuyu must feel… how much it took out of him each day.

Still, your thoughts were promptly brought away from the comment as you heard a slight ruckus from the entrance, which soon revealed a stumbling Kazutora, trying to rid himself of the small vase where you put umbrellas, and as much as the scene was downright funny, a sick suspect started in your stomach.

How… how long had he been back? 

Had he heard anything?

«Had a nice night, buddy?» Chifuyu teased before going to help him with his problem at hand (or feet should you say?) «… if you aren’t too tired, want to join us for a few drinks?».

You masqueraded your clear anxiety at having been almost caught, with a bottle raised in his direction to cover your awkward smile, that soon faltered when his gaze dipped the moment it met your own. It felt unusual for him to be this shy and your worst thoughts were promptly confirmed when he shot down Chifuyu’s offer with genuine tiredness.

«… the others they… it… it tired the shit out of me, and I… I wouldn't want to intrude» he ignored Chifuyu’s insistence that he wouldn’t have been interrupting anything, promptly moving towards his room - the former guest room - not even sending a glance your way. 

If anything his clear obligation to keep his eyes down was telling.

He had heard you and he had taken offense to your clumsy words.

And worst of all, you couldn’t fault him for it.

The days that passed after the ‘incident’ were heavy and if Chifuyu noticed that the air had grown tense, he tried to lighten it up, breaching a truce between the two of you - or better with Kazutora because you just wanted to apologize - but finding a wall of resistance from the other boy. 

Hence you had surrendered yourself to heartbreak, mechanically going through your usual routine and missing Kazutora’s own interruption like hell.

Your leftovers were left to rot in the fridge - well, not rot because Chifuyu would have eaten anything that wasn’t properly labeled or left for longer than a day untouched - and still you packed the umpteenth one while finishing to clean up for the day as your last client walked in.

«Oh lucky last client…» the words died in your mouth the moment that you took in who it was; you didn’t know his name although he had often introduced himself to you, right before asking you on a date.

Intensely. 

At least a few thousand times.

«… welcome».

It wasn’t that you found the guy… bad, you just lacked any interest in relationships and since Kazutora had come into your life, your heart had beaten just for him. 

Still, the guy hadn’t backed off at your constant rejections doubling up to the point that you felt genuine anxiety and exertion having to deal with him. 

You always tried to be polite but resolute, shooting down his invitations with believable excuses and acting as professionally as possible.

«Oh lucky me, indeed» he said as he moved closer to the counter, putting his grimy hands on your wiped down glass as you tried not to hiss and went from packaging the leftovers onto the cash register «… I wasn’t sure whether you’d still be open or…».

Considering that you thought he by now had memorized your hours, you tried not to grimace, especially as he didn’t order on the go, but instead sat himself down to the empty tables, while you reheated his order and went to do his coffee. 

He obviously tried to chat you up through the whole ensemble and you - as always - kept it strictly necessary, making sure to mention that you’d be soon closing.

Nothing worked and when you went to bring him over his order - what a pretentious fucker - he grabbed onto your hand and wasn’t intent to let it go, insisting that ‘you kept him company’.

“Oh, I simply couldn’t” you had insisted promptly feeling yourself panicking when his grip didn’t relax, if anything growing tighter as it became also pushy.

«Oh, c’mon!» he chuckled «You don’t ever even give me the time of the day!».

Yeah and why couldn’t he take a hint about it.

«I thought that you shot me down once because you said we didn’t know each other, so why don’t we do just that?» because you were halfway through closing, tired and exhausted and he wasn’t your type. 

And even if he was, he was building his own grave by being so insistent.

«C’mon, sit down!»,

«I have stuff to do, considering I was halfway through closing» now you didn’t have it in anymore to be civil with him; fuck it, if you lost a client, as this wasn’t the type of clientele that you wanted in your shop.

«Oh shit, I hadn’t… I hadn’t realized» his smile said the utter opposite «… then why don’t you get to it and I can walk you back home? Might as well grab a bite on the way there».

Oh shit, he had backed you into a corner.

«Very nice of you, but I… I am fine…» which road could you use? 

The one that said that it wasn’t professional and risked completely disregarding it or mentioning that you already had plans, which wasn’t a lie since you usually walked back home with Chifuyu and Kazutora on their longest days, but with the current situation… you had taken to go alone. 

You didn’t put it past this creepy dude to stalk you…

Maybe you could agree to grab a bite and then ditch this dude halfway through with an excuse.

That felt like the safest plan, if anything, to get this man to stop holding onto your wrist. 

Still, you were able to detach yourself when you were both startled by the ring of the bell signaling another customer and you were about to offer a lifetime supply of sweet treats to whoever had just saved you from the creepy dude when you turned to see it was none other than Kazutora.

Well, today it seemed it wasn’t your day.

You still sent a quick awkward smile ‘hi’ way, if anything because you desperately didn’t want to be alone with the dude.

«Hey» he said carefully and you noticed how quickly his eyes darted in the direction of your creepy customer; you hadn’t discussed it with anybody, feeling a bit silly and used to handling things on your own. 

You certainly hadn’t thought it’d get this bad. 

Still, you felt like Kazutora could tell that something bad was going on.

«… Chifuyu thought I’d come and ask how you were done. Today was extra-slow so we are closing earlier than usual».

«Oh, I am… I was halfway done, just… just a last client» and you pointedly gazed at where your customers sat, none the more discouraged although he pointedly looked at Kazutora, who regarded him as the likes of an annoying fly.

«Well, then I’ll tell Chifuyu not to rush with the closing» he said while getting his phone out. 

His presence had definitely put a damper on your creepy customer's plans and you could say it from the way his gaze quickly darted between you - safe behind the counter - and Kazutora. 

Confronted together the two men looked one the shadow of the other with Kazutora coming out as the winner, both in attractiveness and behavior, as he acted unbothered although obviously used to the gazes.

«You don’t have to worry» oh here he came again «I can walk the lady home. Actually, we were talking about going out for dinner and…».

«I never agreed to that» although your relationship with Kazutora was shaky, his presence felt comforting and you doubted he’d have left you to your own devices «That’s what I was going to say by the way… before … well before we got interrupted… I don’t need you to walk me home, my friends are coming with me and…».

«Oh c’mon!» his tone had dropped and whereas it had been ‘playful’ before, it now held a threat. 

With your side eye you spotted Kazutora quickly getting off his phone mid-text - he wasn’t used to them and could be quite slow, preferring to call you if you knew you were available - and slipped his phone back into his jeans, quickly setting his gaze onto the man with the intensity of a guard dog and crossed his arms over his chest.

«That ain’t no need to play hard. Just give a dude a bone!».

«Well, I… I also don’t have the need to go out with you, sir» you reinforced finally dumping onto him the painful kindness that you had held back «I have made it clear that I am not interested and i haven’t been… many times and…».

«When?» he said genuinely surprised «I just… well, you have always been kind with me! Smiling and… well, I wasn’t certainly expecting that».

And his gaze turned hateful, enough that even with the counter between the two of you, it was enough to have you shivering while you saw the man coming closer, approaching like a hurricane and while you readied for the worst, it never came. 

When had you even closed your eyes, because as they fluttered open due to the noise of a chair being kicked, you caught the sight of Kazutora holding the man’s arm up in the air while fixing him with a glare.

«The lady has said her peace» he commented statuary and although you had always been quite sure that Kazutora looked stronger than he seemed, seeing him in action was enough to have conflicting emotions fleet right in front of your face. 

None of them, though, was fear.

«I think that you’d do better if you left the place. At once».

«Hey! Fuck… put… put me down!» you had to give it out to this man, he certainly didn’t give up «What are you? Her boyfriend?!».

«Yes».

You were glad that Kazutora’s whole attention was fixed on the man, because you had grown three shades darker after the statement he had just given. 

He undoubtedly had just meant it to have the dude leaving you alone - it was less likely that he’d come again if he knew that your boyfriend might just hang around - still… still, you had broken his heart and he probably felt insulted.

And yet, he had rushed to save you. To ensure your safety.

«Wh… what?» the man seemed utterly confused as his gaze ran from Kazutora to you «… she never… she never mentioned it and I… I haven’t seen you around and…».

«Because unlike your fucking lazy ass I have a job» oh he certainly wasn’t withholding punches and you were undoubtedly enjoying this far more than you let on «… and you shouldn’t leave a woman alone simply because she has a girlfriend. You should fucking leave her alone because she has asked you so».

Creepy customer suddenly looked like he needed to run, as Kazutora released his hold on his arm, pushing him towards the entrance and after a moment of further stalling the man went on to run for the wind, having you - after he was at a safe distance - heave a loud laugh that felt in part hysterical.

It had been… so heavy on your mind and suddenly… that man had run away with his tail between his legs… 

You sobered up quickly as you took in sight of a rather awkward Kazutora looking down at his shoes while standing in the entryway of your bakery, looking like he might have as well been at fault for the events of the night. The sole thought got you to speak up through the awkwardness of your situation.

«Thanks» your voice wavered a bit and you made a small peep talk to yourself to tell yourself to keep it inside, not to cry in front of Kazutora just like that «… sorry, that… sorry that you had to deal with that shitshow I… just… sorry. Truly. I can finish closing up and then…».

«I should be the one saying sorry» his voice sounded genuinely horrified and hadn’t you been so afraid that physical contact would have had an adverse reaction, you’d have gone past the counter to quickly hug him tightly to yourself, cupping his cheeks tenderly and reassuring him that he had nothing to be sorry for «… I didn’t… well, when I said that I was your boyfriend and all…».

«He wouldn’t have backed off, you know?» instead you stated facts «As much as I dread the thought of it… hadn’t you mentioned it, he’d have still come back tomorrow impenitent begging me for a date».

Kazutora’s genuine discomfort shifted into something else as your eyes met but for a moment and you saw a thoughtful expression on his face, while you went to try to busy yourself with doing what else you needed for closing time. 

If you being seemingly busy helped this situation being less awkward, you’d have gone through everything - even collecting lint from closed boxes - to spend some time with him without having him look at you as if you had grown two heads.

«It has… has it been going on for a long time?» albeit it was a genuine question, you could tell the obvious undertone beneath it.

«A week… maybe two…» you didn’t enjoy lying and you were awful at it, hence you ended up blurting out «… maybe even a month…».

«And you didn’t tell us?» he seemed honestly indignant and you felt a reprimand coming through although Kazutora’s voice soon came again, a bit less charged «I mean… I get why you might not want to tell me, but I… Chifuyu… he could… well, there was… stuff that could have been done. You didn’t deserve to be harassed and…».

«It’s fine, I… I didn’t… I thought I could handle it, you know?» and somehow you muttered the words that you didn’t think that regarded only the situation at hand but also whatever weird shit was going on between you and Kazutora «I am stronger than I look, you know?».

Hooked and sunk as your eyes met over the counter for a brief moment before Kazutora’s own were quick to return to the tip of his own shoes. 

You’d have teased him asking him what he found so interesting in them, but held back.

«… I… well, I do know that».

«Didn’t seem so» you shot back a bit spiteful as you finished with the checkups and picked up the money from the cash register before going to shed your usual uniform and grab your coat «Either way… he won’t be a problem anymore and I am glad of it because I was running out of excuses to…».

«What did you mean when you said that?».

You were halfway through walking past him when he swiftly grabbed your wrist, not that differently from how the creepy customer had. 

Except this time, you had been secretly wishing for him to stop you.

«… that night I mean… I… when you drank with Chif…».

«I know what night you are talking about» maybe you were a bit of a brat, although just a few minutes before you had wished to treat Kazutora as a frail animal, but there was also the question that you had had a long day and the sudden confrontation… oh… how it felt like the final stone on your shoulders «And I… I also… am sorry if it offended you and… well…I didn’t mean anything bad, but it must… it probably sounded like…».

«I know it was naive but I…» he stopped you halfway as you fully turned to face him, startled when golden eyes met your own as he had finally gotten his face off his own shoes «… but for all the time that we were roommates I desperately hoped you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t find out».

There was no need to clarify what he was implying, and you didn’t treat him like an idiot by pretending you had no clue what he was talking about.

«Chifuyu told me that he… well, he had disclosed about what… where I have been the past ten years» he explained promptly, ducked his head for a moment before raising it again but his eyes didn’t meet your own and suddenly the urge to simply cradle him in your arms was enough to have you clenching your fists by your side «… but I don’t know… the way that you treated me… it made me think that maybe… just maybe you might not have known».

«Kazutora…» you said softly, sending what you wished for the barest of caresses on his own way «… how… how else should I have looked at you?».

«With fear and horror» he was quick to shoot back «I am not… I did awful things. I am not a good man».

«Well, around the first statement, I can’t exactly… it’d be a lie to say that you didn’t do them» you said careful as you moved onto uncharted paths «… but I… I just can’t seem to agree with the second phrase».

That startled Kazutora enough to have his eyes widen as he gasped softly. A sound that had you flustered as you imagined it in a wholly other contest.

Which was the last thing you needed at the moment, as you gently bridged the distance between the two of you, noticing that all through this Kazutora’s grip on your wrist had loosened, it still stayed, comfortingly. 

You wondered whether you could slip your hand out of it, just to readjust your grip and hold onto his own.

«… what? I… no, you can’t… you can’t truly believe that» he stated as he took a step back for each one you had moved forward, inevitably and clumsily dragging you as well «I was in a bikers gang».

«So was Chifuyu and you know how much saintly he can be, can’t you» you replied quickly «… although he leaves his fucking dirty socks by the hamper instead of in them and definitely leaves you on ‘read’ because he saw a cute cat».

«Well, this isn’t about Chifuyu» you could tell that this whole thing was frustrating him as he didn’t know how to handle it properly «I am just saying that it’s better if you stay away from me and…».

«… I don’t think that you have the power to do that» you smirked back «We live in the same apartment».

«I’ll find a new one» he promptly shot back and with the swiftness that he used you worried for a moment that he might have been thinking all this time about moving away. 

Because you had put him at unease… because he couldn’t… because… 

«I… I don’t want things to change and I can’t… I couldn’t handle it if they were, now that I know you… are aware of my past and…».

«Why would they have to change?» another frustrating question from the way Kazutora’s teeth grinded one against the other.

«Don’t play coy» he seethed lightly «You know what I am fucking capable of…».

«I have also seen you with a sac-a-poche» you shot back trying to light up the atmosphere «You ain’t that deadly with your hands, Kazutora».

«What if I told you that I wanted to fucking pound him to the ground».

It felt like a switch that had gone off in his mind, the way his grip on your wrist tightened and he used it to bring you forcefully closer till he was in your face. 

You should have felt scared and terrified but there was a deep pit in the way your belly fluttered as Kazutora’s hair fell onto his face with the motion.

«I just couldn’t… because you were fucking here, but if I ever met him in a fucking dark alley, he better pray for…».

«That still doesn’t make you a bad man, Kazutora» you spoke attentively and slowly, hoping that your words would it where you wished them to «… you’d have done it to protect me, wouldn’t you».

«That doesn’t excuse it».

«And your actions don’t mean that you are a bad man» you insisted instead, using your free hand to tentatively push back a few strands of hair and then settle onto his cheek, feeling the way his whole body leaned into you. 

He might have been beastly at traits but there was something downright erotic in the way you somehow had the reins of his control.

«… how can you be a bad man when you worry so much about silly little me?».

And like that he breathed in, deeply for the first time, as his eyes fluttered closed while he turned gently to lay his whole head against it.

«If you don’t want this, I… you can… you should tell me. Push me, punch me or…».

«Hhm, why are you so convinced I don’t know what I want, Kazutora?» you mused softly, taking in the soft scene in front of you as you moved the final step to bridge the distance and on top of it, you were quick to finally make true on the wish to hold his hand as your own traveled to meet it «… I know it all, I know what you have done and what you caused with the hands I am holding, but I am still doing it, am I not?».

«You will regret it».

«Right now the sole thing that I regret is not having let you be a bit berserk on the creepy dude» you giggled softly, breathing warm air onto his face as his eyes opened lazily, something akin to a dangerous smirk on his face, as it required some echoes of the past «… would have been pretty hot».

«Didn’t know you were… that way».

Oh how you flustered, quickly ditching the whole sinking boat as you took a step back and adjusted the coat with the same hand that had been laid on his pretty face.

«Alright, I… Chifuyu will probably think that you got lost on the way here or…».

«I don’t mind it».

You were surprised when Kazutora tugged onto your still joined hands to gain back your attention.

The way he mused for it had you thinking that he looked like a misbehaving pup and you couldn’t help but giggle awkwardly.

«… if you don’t mind my… flaws as well…».

«You are calling that a flaw?».

«Fucked in the head would work better?».

«So, ahem… should I sleep somewhere else tonight?».

You both were startled as you turned slowly - as in a horror movie - to find your shared friend at the entrance of your bakery, looking definitely a bit too happy for having just caught his two roommates insulting each other. 

Still, both you and Kazutora knew that you had been caught, hanging your head low as you muttered a quick apology for your tardiness.

«And that won’t be necessary, little missie over here thinks I am hot just when I fight dude in her honor».

«I never said such a thing!».

[vintagelasvegas]

Round-Up Drive-In, 1820 South 5th (Las Vegas Blvd S.)

The restaurant opened 6/29/46 at the intersection of S. 5th & Main. The postcards and photos here were were taken after an expansion in the early 50s. The owner was Robert "Bob" Baskin, City of Las Vegas commissioner, and Clark County commissioner.

“I recognized that there was discrimination in Las Vegas. We used to have a Roundup Drive-In here in which blacks were not allowed to sit in the restaurant. I can recall being in the Roundup Drive-In one time when Nat King Cole, a famous entertainer, came into the restaurant and was refused the right to be seated and was told that he could take out his meal but he could not sit in the restaurant.” - Phillip L. Cook interview. OH-00418, UNLV Special Collections.

The restaurant was destroyed by fire in '61. It was replaced by Denny's.

Black & white Las Vegas News Bureau photos, 1955. Round-Up Drive-In advertisement. Review-Journal, 6/27/46 p6; Round-Up Drive-In Plans $25,000 Expansion Program. Review-Journal, 9/14/51 p1; Addition opened. Review-Journal, 4/3/52; Pre-dawn Fire Destroys LV Drive-In Restaurant. Review-Journal, 10/28/61 p1; J. Brooke. Bob Baskin Watches Vegas Grow Up. Review-Journal, 1/12/69.

[athena5898]

(Quds) New testimonies underscore the enduring hardships faced by Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails especially during the holy month of Ramadan.

We were almost fasting all the time, surviving on only a few bites of food, said one former detainee. -"The rooms were dark, and our pre-dawn meal was eaten in total darkness. The food was undercooked and scarce.

We lost between 30 to 50 kilograms due to the deliberate policy of starvation. We had access to water for ablution only for one hour a day.

We didn’t even know what day it was. Time lost all meaning. We slept when the guards told us to and woke up to beatings and oppression at their will.

We were prevented from practicing our religious rituals, forbidden from reading the Quran aloud, and denied the chance to pray in congregation.

[clangenrising]

Month 17 - Greenleaf

Prev | First | Next

“You don’t have to come,” Goldenstar said again and Scorchplume lashed her tail in irritation. 

“I’ve already told you,” she huffed, stretching out of the nest they shared, “you’ll need my help if you want to find Songdust. I’m coming.” 

“Okay,” Goldenstar said carefully. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do this if you don’t want to.” She stood and stretched as well, brows furrowed.

“That’s just life,” Scorchplume shook her head dismissively. “We’re always doing things we don’t want to, that’s just how things are.” Goldenstar sighed sorrowfully and Scorch wanted to frown. She managed to keep her matter of fact smile in place. 

“I just hope you know that this isn’t one of those things,” said Goldenstar. “If this is too much for you you can stay in camp.” 

“Oh, you think I can’t handle it?” Scorchplume laughed and flicked her tail flirtatiously under Goldenstar’s chin. 

“Scorch,” Goldenstar said worriedly and pursed her lips and Scorchplume huffed. She hated when Goldenstar saw through her like that. She didn’t like the idea of someone being able to peek under her mask. 

“It’s not about if you can,” Goldenstar continued. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. That’s how it’s going to be from now on.” Despite the freedom being offered her, something she had wanted more than anything for the longest time, Scorch’s gut twisted at the words and she scowled disapprovingly. 

“I’m going, Goldie. End of discussion.” She turned and started towards the exit of Goldenstar’s den. Goldenstar trailed behind, chewing her lip. 

“Alright, alright. I’m happy to have you along,” she said. “Just let me know if you need to go home.”

They ate their breakfast quietly in the pre-dawn light. One by one, cats began to filter out of their dens to make dirt or get a meal. Bluekit and Yellowkit were already up and about, toddling around the edges of the clearing under Slatepaw’s supervision. Their little pine-tree-tails wobbled as they explored on unsteady paws that were only getting steadier.

Russetfrond emerged from the warriors’ den and seemed torn between going straight to the kits and joining Goldenstar and Scorchplume but eventually, he padded towards them. Scorchplume kept a pleasant smile fixed upon her face.

“Goldenstar,” he said as if he were reporting for duty, “you’re leaving today, yes?”

“Yeah,” said Goldenstar, licking the last traces of mouse from her lips. 

Russetfrond nodded grimly. “You’re sure you want me to stay behind?” 

“I am,” said Goldenstar. “If something happens to me, you’ll need to take my place. Plus, you should be spending time with your kits.” 

Russetfrond’s expression softened and he let his gaze drift over to the kittens. “I should be,” he agreed. “I just don’t want to leave you without the proper support.” Scorchplume started cleaning the fur between her toes to avoid huffing a laugh. He sure thinks highly of himself, doesn’t he?

“We’ll be careful,” Goldenstar said reassuringly. “If all goes well, we won’t need to raise a claw for anything.” 

Russetfrond huffed bitterly and glanced back at the elders’ den. “That seems unlikely to me.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said. “Stay safe while we’re gone.” 

“I will,” Russetfrond gave a dutiful dip of his head and then headed off towards his kittens.

“Look!” Slatepaw said excitedly, pawing Yellowkit to get his attention, “Here comes your papa!” 

“Hey, boys,” Russetfrond purred, lifting his tail over his back. The kittens smiled and wobbled towards him babbling in their indecipherable baby speech. 

Scorchplume glanced up from her grooming to say, “I’ll never get used to him acting like that.” 

Goldenstar laughed. “I think it suits him.” 

“Really?” Scorch raised her brows. “He’s not even scowling. I mean, look at him.”

“He wasn’t always so serious,” said Goldenstar. “It’s good to see him loosening up.” 

“If you say so,” Scorch smirked. Goldenstar leaned into her for a moment before standing and stretching in a long, beautiful arc, with one leg stretching back until the toes were strained. 

“I’m gonna grab the others,” she said. “Be right back.” 

“Alright,” hummed Scorchplume with a wave of her tail. As Goldenstar padded away, she switched paws and tried to puzzle through the attraction that had stirred within her when Goldenstar had stretched. It was… weird, and fairly new. Little surprise infatuations had begun to appear in the last month or two, seemingly out of nowhere, and it was upsetting her.

When she was younger, she’d been more accustomed to those kinds of simple pleasures - enjoying the way a tom’s voice sounded after he’d just woken up, stopping to appreciate the curve of a she-cat’s body, fantasizing about a less than chaste interaction with that month’s subject of fascination, and even indulging a suitor’s affections now and then - but those things had all stopped pretty definitively when she had met Razor and learned the truth. Whether cats knew it or not, those kinds of games were all power games and now that the veil had been torn from Scorch’s eyes, she just hadn’t had any interest in them anymore. They’d lost their shine and become perfunctory. Most of the time, the thought of engaging in them made her feel dizzy and sick to her stomach.

And that was why she didn’t know how to decipher the feelings when Goldenstar caught her eye in that way. She was beyond such animal desires. She had been fine for almost a year and then, suddenly, out of the blue, Goldenstar was tempting her in ways she never had before. It didn’t make sense. It hadn’t even started when she had agreed to be Goldenstar’s no-labels-sweetheart or whatever she was. That had been a mostly pragmatic decision to get Goldenstar to stop walking on eggshells. 

And, sure, it had been enjoyable, but it didn’t mean anything. Right? 

Movement in the corner of her vision snapped her out of her head and she tensed as a silvery pelt approached at speed. She whipped her head to see Fogpaw grinned widely at her, bounding over, characteristically energetic. Scorch let out a subtle, slow breath and smiled, chiding herself for even half-thinking it could have been Ghost. 

“Good morning, Fogpaw,” she said with practiced smoothness. 

“Morning, Scorchplume!” purred Fogpaw. She bounced playfully as she got close, rearing up like she were about to pounce, but when Scorchplume pulled a paw back in a small threat she giggled and corkscrewed over herself into the grass, twisting like a ferret for a few seconds. Scorch had gotten used to that kind of thing at this point and simply lowered her paw, tucking her smiling muzzle down to start grooming her shoulders. 

Eventually Fogpaw stilled and twisted her neck to look at Scorchplume as she asked, “You’re taking Mystique home today, right?” 

“We are,” Scorch nodded. 

Across the camp, Oddstripe was leading Mystique out of the elders’ den with a gentle smile. Scorch spared them a glance. It was still strange seeing Mystique so downtrodden. Her eyes were dull and rimmed with dark circles, her posture slack and disinterested. At least she had started grooming herself again, Scorch thought. 

Fogpaw was watching too. “She’s still not smiling…” she frowned, rolling into a sitting position. 

“Mm.” Scorch twitched her tail. 

“I should come with you,” said Fogpaw. “I need to put a spell on her den so she’ll feel better.” 

“She’ll feel better once she’s back with her Folk,” Scorch said firmly. “There’s no need for spellcraft.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Fogpaw protested. 

Scorch sat up taller and fixed Fogpaw with an expression designed to convey how serious she was. “No. You’re not going to the city.” 

“Aw, come on!” her apprentice frowned and sat up in kind. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

“You’re not coming,” Scorch hissed firmly. “You’ll stand out like a sore paw, looking like your father, and it will put a target on your back. You’re staying here and that’s final.” Fogpaw’s mouth screwed tightly to the side and her eyes flickered over the camp in thought, tail tip twitching side to side. Scorchplume’s fur prickled in alarm.

“And don’t you dare think about trying to sneak off,” she snapped. “The city is almost a day away and if I get back and Pantherhaze says you’ve been missing, I’ll stop your training immediately.” 

“What?!” Fogpaw shrilled. “You can’t do that!” 

“I can,” Scorch smirked coldly. “Apprentices that put themselves in enormous danger get held back until they can understand the consequences of their actions.”

“Or they get their warrior names early,” Fogpaw scoffed.

“Sometimes,” Scorchplume said, “but most of the time they die. Or worse, they get someone else killed.” Fogpaw’s ears wilted a bit and Scorch decided to really drive her point home. “Your mother died because she went to the city without understanding how dangerous it was or getting permission to go and she put Songdust in danger in the process. Don’t make the same mistake she did.” 

Fogpaw’s grit her teeth, tail bristling. Scorchplume hadn’t expected anger there but, seeing the apprentice’s reaction and anticipating a blow up, she quickly adjusted course.

“Think about Slatepaw,” she said, lowering her voice to a more gentle tone. “If you get hurt or killed in the city, she’ll have no one left. She needs you, Fogpaw.” She watched Fogpaw swallow thickly, face paling. She shifted slightly to let Fogpaw peer around her to where Slatepaw was playing with the kittens. She noted the way Fogpaw’s brows furrowed and her posture shifted, ever so slightly, into something more guarded and knew that she had won. 

“Yeah, okay,” Fogpaw sighed.

“Thank you, Fogpaw,” Scorch said in relief, leaning in to touch her nose gently to the girl's ear. “I know it doesn’t feel fair but I promise you this is for the best. Part of learning to get better at not getting caught is knowing when it’s too risky to even try.”

Fogpaw seemed to respond to that, leaning into Scorch’s touch. “I just don’t get why you get to go but I have to stay.” 

“Because I’ve been living in the city for years and I know how to stay safe,” hummed Scorchplume. 

“What about Floodstrike?” Fogpaw whined. “He and Sparrowsway are going! How is that fair?”

“They’re warriors who showed they know how to fight city cats,” Scorch said. “And I can trust them to run home if I say so. Right now, I’m not so sure you know how to follow orders.” 

“But you’re always telling me about how to get around the rules,” Fogpaw frowned. “Why do I have to follow your rules but not the other rules?” 

Scorch chuckled a little and said, “You don’t have to. But if you don’t follow my rules then you don’t get to do certain things. You have to decide what’s more important to you, earning my trust or getting to disobey the rules.” 

Fogpaw hummed thoughtfully, chewing her lip. 

“Why don’t you think about that while I’m gone,” Scorchplume said. “And as a bonus assignment, try to figure out Russetfrond’s rules. When I get back, you can tell me what they are and which ones you think are worth following. How about that?” 

As expected, the idea of a secret assignment seemed to spark Fogpaw’s interest and she nodded dutifully. “Okay. I can do that.” 

“I know you can,” Scorch purred and flicked her tail against Fogpaw’s nose, eliciting a giggle. 

“Scorchplume!” Goldenstar called from across the camp. “We’re ready when you are.” Sparrowsway, Floodstrike, and Branchbark had gathered around her, Mystique hunched quietly beside them. 

“I have to go now,” Scorchplume said. “Good luck with your assignment.” 

“You too,” smiled Fogpaw. Scorch gave her one more gentle headbutt and slipped away to join the others. Fogpaw would be alright. Now she just had to focus on making sure everyone else got home safely. Goldenstar smiled at her as she approached and her stomach squirmed in fear - of what, she wasn’t sure. 

“I’m ready,” she lied.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon 3 Prompt 14

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Spoiled rotten (omega) Dabi

Contents: ABO dynamics, Alpha!Shigaraki, Omega!Dabi, Mating Cycles, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex

After a lifetime of struggle and hardship Dabi thinks that maybe, just maybe, it was worth it to end up here. Sure he burned off almost all of his skin Fighting his father for the final time, sure it took about three years of rehabilitation to get him to have a functional body, sure he also may have needed a lot of therapy after the fact, but can anyone else say they live as lavish of a life as he does now?

Dabi is purring as soon as he wakes up, his alpha's hands moving over his skin, lips against the back of his mating bite as he rouses him. "Time to wake up, firefly." Tomura's voice is low and sweet in his ear. 

"Since when do I have to wake up at a certain time now?" He mumbles, but he does turn into his mate's body. It's been years since they had work to do every morning at the crack of dawn in order to get the government to function the way they wanted to. Now he's used to lazy mornings and long days of him doing whatever he so chooses. He never thought that he would have that luxury when he was barely surviving on the streets after his coma. But this is more than he could have ever anticipated having.

"Since," his mate peppers his face in kisses as he speaks, "Your heat is supposed to start later today and you said you wanted to be able to relax into it instead of being frantic. Come on, baby, come take a bath and I'll get breakfast ready." Dabi starts to purr again, his hormones already near their peak and making any act of service that his mate offers him fill his skin with warmth. That is what allows him to get out of bed when it is a very appealing idea to just keep his mate there until his heat swells through him. 

But he goes to take a bath since he knows he won't be completely clean for at least a week. When he rejoins Tomura in their living room, he finds that the conversation pit already has all of the nest cushions in place of the regular ones, alongside boxes of his other nest-making materials, and thankfully his lover has ordered them food instead of destroying their kitchen trying to make something himself. he brings Dabi over to the table and feeds him a strawberry, and that sends him purring again. He can't help it. This close to his heat and his mate is providing for him so well? It's a miracle it takes until halfway through the massive meal that he's brought him before Dabi's arousal starts to tick too high. His slick starts to drip over his skin and his cock begins to harden, the scent of burnt sugar filling the air between them as he enters his pre-heat. 

"Finish your food, precious," Tomura encourages him, knowing that he will need the energy desperately throughout the rest of the day. He makes himself eat everything on his plate, but knowing his mate is right there, watching him do so, has him squirming in his seat by the time he's finished. "Good boy. Now why don't you go and make the nest cozy, I'll clean this up." They'd chosen to make their nest in the living room because the open floor plan means that he can still see Tomura cleaning up the plates from there, never making it feel like his mate has abandoned him, as they both work. 

Dabi has so many blankets. Special ones that repel moisture, ones that have particular fibers that help to keep the mass of them from retaining too much heat that used to make his old nests stifling. Not that the pieces of cardboard or single, tattered blankets that he used to be able to find before the League were ever much of a nest in the first place. Now he has anything that he could want to make his heats good, and when he's finished rearranging the blankets and pillows, he only needs one other thing to make sure that he's happy. 

He chirps at his mate and Tomura makes sure that he brings two water bottles over from the kitchen and sets them on the edge of the pit before he climbs down into the nest. Dabi starts to purr again, laying back on the blankets and spreading his legs so that his mate can see and smell how badly he already wants him before his heat has even fully broken. Tomura's eyes start to glow as he crawls closer, dipping his head to nose against the repaired glands in his neck. Dabi immediately tangles his fingers into his shirt and pulls at him. He wants more and his alpha is so good to him when he doesn't protest that or tease him. His hands are sure and solid, never a danger to him anymore. They strip away his clothes, every layer shed revealing the mixture of the black nomu skin that has let him live long enough to make a life with Tomura, and each part of him that gets exposed gets kissed and stroked as he does. Dabi pulls at Tomura's clothes as he licks at one of his nipples, teasing the bud that only ever gets more sensitive when he's on his heat. His cock starts to ache against his stomach, his body wanting to get his first orgasm out of him there so that he can focus on getting his cunt stuffed full of his alpha's knot. 

"Tomu," he whines, rolling his hips up.

"I know, baby boy, I won't keep you waiting." He makes good on that promise as his hands move down his body, his mouth kissing over his stomach. It's a rare thing when he gets Tomura's lips wrapped around his cock, and having his alpha's hot breath over him just a second before his tongue is licking his tip and two fingers are rubbing through his slick to tease his hole makes his breath catch in his throat. Tomura closes his lips around his head and starts to lick and suck at him, dipping his head lower each time as his fingers press inside of his cunt and send a gush of slick down his thighs as Dabi throws his head back against the pillows as a moan tears itself from his chest. 

Dabi can't say how long he lasts, his cunt full of his mate's cool fingers as they curl against his prostate, and his cock swallowed to the root as Tomura makes sure that he gives him anything his frantic, hormonal body wants. But by the time he does reach his first orgasm, the entire world is hazy. All he knows is that his alpha is so good to him that he doesn't even wait for him to catch his breath before he's starting to press his thick cock into his body. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to participate in the event, consider checking out my Ko-Fi here!

[solvalley]

— to fill the dales below.

diluc & treasure hoarder gn! reader.

platonic content!

summary ; what it's like to live under diluc's care.

warnings ; mentions of alcohol consumption, abandonment, and child neglect. lower case intended.

notes ; hi, i'm new here. silly diluc/dawn winery crew familial hcs with a pre-teen reader because i'm soft for them and the kaeya hangout event has made me the slightest bit insane.

– diluc has no troubles whatsoever with taking you in when he finds you huddled up inside an abandoned treasure hoarder camp by the outskirts of mondstadt. he finds it revolting how someone would dare to leave a child like you, barely a teenager yet, alone near somewhere so dangerous, so he scoops you into his arms and takes you home.

– everyone in the dawn winery is happy to have you, too!! adelinde already has your favorite meals memorized within a few days of you living there, and elzer always has an eye out for you whenever diluc can't be there.

– you don't see much of diluc at first – he's around for very short periods of time, so you spend your time helping around however you can; picking grapes with mr. tunner, helping moco and hillie clean around the winery (which is just the both of them coddling you, really), etc.

– except you were born a restless, wayward child, so sitting still doesn't do too well with you. that's alright, though. diluc starts taking you to mondstadt with him, even going so far as to teaching you how to mix a few drinks – all non-alcoholic, of course. he's proud of how much of a fast learner you are for these sorts of things!! you're practically a natural.

– meeting kaeya for the first time is a whole thing. he's baffled when he enters angel's share and sees diluc smiling, yes, smiling, as he instructs you on the process of mixology. did his brother adopt a kid, and he didn't know? (his initial thoughts, yes, because he knows diluc most definitely would do this if he saw a child in need).

– after the confusion is cleared up, though, kaeya gets to know you better, and it's safe to say that he adores you. he treats you as his own flesh and blood long before your familial relationship with diluc is anywhere near strong. the cool uncle, if you will.

– he spoils you as much as he can. that one time he went on vacation to sumeru? he buys you a couple of trinkets he thinks you'll like; a couple is an understatement – he visits the winery with his arms full of them and leaves them on your bed if you're not there at the time. and don't let diluc know, but kaeya makes sure to tip you very generous amounts of mora whenever you're helping around angel's share. it's your little secret.

– diluc shows his affection a little differently. carrying you to your room and gently tucking you into bed if you ever fall asleep elsewhere, asking you if you're comfortable living here over the times he's there for breakfast. it's the little things that count.

– a recurring form of affection that has ingrained itself into your daily lives is headpats, however. it begins a few months after your arrival, when you successfully mix a drink all on your own; he ruffles your hair with a soft smile, and it makes you feel warm. he's proud, and even if he's not vocal about it, he doesn't need to be. whenever the situation calls for it, he'll pat your head affectionately with a small smile.

– it isn't long before he's teaching you how to read, too. the life of a treasure hoarder never allowed you such a luxury, and he saw the way you longingly looked over the books available at the winery. he's patient as he teaches, so take your time; no need to stress over the slip ups – it will all pay off in the end, he assures you.

– you won't ever hear this from diluc, but you remind him of a younger kaeya. quiet and a little distant initially, but so full of life and care; he wants to keep that kind nature, that restlessness, safe. for as long as he can.

– diluc let's you braid his hair. it's an odd request, one he isn't expecting, but he isn't opposed to the idea. double braids, french braids, buns; he'll let you do it all, and maybe he'll even let you put a few windwheel asters in his hair if you ask. on quite a few occasions, adelinde has to try not to smile too hard when she walks in with a tray of snacks, and sees you braiding diluc's hair as he does paperwork.

– when it comes to trickier matters, though, it's difficult for diluc to emotionally be there for you. he isn't the best when it comes to soft, comforting words, so all he can do is wrap you up in a hug whenever you need one. if things get too much, he'll even ask for kaeya's help. his younger brother always was– is, better at handling these sorts of things, even if a much younger diluc was usually the one to console and care for a crying kaeya.

– on certain occasions though, when kaeya is too far away or adelinde (one of his best choices for these matters, always), isn't available, he has to try his hardest to make due. diluc will speak as softly as he can – promises that he won't go anywhere, promises that he'll keep you safe.

– because diluc believes no child should go through the sort of cruelty you went through, and if there's any way of salvaging those fleeting years of youth that have been long since blown away by the wind, he swears he'll do it. for you.