#reader is the therapy animal lmao

[hotaru-no-yume]

little one, thank you for bringing me happiness (Part 1)

aka You got reincarnated as a baby dragon in the world of Mahoyaku and somehow became a wizard's familiar.

Prologue

Children's story books are filled with wonder, fantastical worlds, and exciting tales of adventure. And objects like these, which are filled with the pure and innocent feelings of children would no doubt be capable of something strange and magical -- especially with the moon amplifying its power.

On a quiet night, as a little boy sleeps peacefully, one of the books in his room starts shaking from its place on the shelf. It drops to the ground and opens, the pages frantically turning. It stops at a specific page with the image of a baby dragon sleeping peacefully on a cloud. It opens its eyes and proceeds to jump out of the book; fantasy turning into reality. Awareness emerges from its big eyes before they widen in panic. It looks around frantically before jumping out of an open window.

The next morning, the little boy sees one of his favorite story books on the floor. In one of its pages was an image of a blue sky. But it's strange -- why is there an empty space in the middle of the image?

Oz finds you buried in a pile of snow near his castle. He sensed some strange magic lurking about and went out to take a look. He never expected to find a baby dragon half dead in the snow. Oz considered just leaving you there and letting nature run its course… but your desperate cries stopped him. He looks back and sees you looking at him, eyes burning with a will to live regardless of how you're basically turning into a popsicle under the North's harsh conditions. (He remembers Arthur. He remembers the dying child in the snow. He remembers warmth, happiness, laughter and how those happy days disappeared in the blink of an eye. Oz burned everything that reminded him of that child and he regrets it. He misses Arthur. His heart is aching.)

Oz

When you wake up, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. You hear the crackling of a fireplace and the sound of a book's page turning. Oz sits near the fireplace, quiet and still. His eyes, which were gazing at old pages of his book, turn to you when you rise from the mess of blankets and pillows. You flutter your wings before approaching him, still unsteady and weak. You collide onto his face and slide down to his lap, clutching your head in pain as you look up and give him a small squeak filled with gratitude. Oz thinks you're very strange.

The first thing he did after you recovered was to send you back to wherever you came from. You look like you've only hatched from your egg recently, so the mother couldn't be far. He doesn't want to deal with a rampaging dragon thinking that he stole its child. When he does find a dragon that might be your parent… To put it simply, you freaked out. A shrill scream comes out of you as you jumped behind Oz and clung to his ponytail. You frantically climbed up his mass of hair using your little paws and hindlegs before smacking to the side of his face and holding on like a koala bear.

You blamed your newly acquired animal instincts for the breakdown because all of your senses are screaming at you to run away. The dragon was huge. Easily towering over the highest skyscrapers you've seen in your original world. It's talons were sharp and can probably tear you to ribbons and its flaming breath would surely incinerate you if you got too close. In short, you had an awful time. When Oz comes back home, he is greeted with the sight of his teachers and Figaro chatting by the fireplace. (Another surprise visit. Oz gets them often from them after Arthur left.) And in return, they are greeted with a very distressed baby dragon on top of Oz's head.

Oz lives a very quiet life in his castle. He doesn't do much so whenever you're bored, you're either exploring his castle, or dragging Oz to go outside and touch some grass (snow?) because staying inside and staring at the fireplace all day can't be good for him. Oz complies with your demands more often than not. All you need to do is tug his ponytail. (You can't resist, alright? It's so soft--)

Snow and White adore your presence. They really do seem like doting grandfathers with how they coo at you, give you headpats and hug you close. Figaro's more distant, preferring to observe you and your amusing antics. You were wary of him too so you didn't mind his distance. You preferred it in fact. But when you see him staring off into space with a lonely look in his eyes, you figured that being a little affectionate wouldn't hurt. He looks like he needs someone's presence anyway, so you fly up to him and you nuzzle your cheek against his. The look on his face was priceless. (You did have to deal with him attempting to take you as his own familiar after that though. Oz has a surprisingly strong grip.)

You cuddle up against Oz whenever it is time to sleep. You're warm, so you make a pretty good heater. To the point that Oz finds himself holding you close after he wakes up. Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, Oz just stares at your sleeping form, wondering how a creature like you managed to just come into his life and stay for so long. Before he knew it, the phantom images of Arthur ceased to haunt him. Of course, you could never replace the child he raised, but your presence made his days… more comfortable? Warm? It's a shame that you weren't awake at that moment. If you were, you would have seen that tiny smile on Oz's face as he imagined Arthur meeting you.

Riquet

You, quite literally, crash into Riquet's life. He meets you one night after finishing his prayers before bed. His prayer was trivial at best, perhaps just a silly, little wish of a lonely child -- he wanted a friend. And a few moments later, he hears his window breaking. There, on his floor surrounded by broken glass was a small creature with cute little wings and adorable doe eyes.

Honestly, you just wanted to practice flying. You had no intention of crashing into some poor soul's window in the middle of the night, but here you are -- being poked, prodded, and squished by a very curious wizard child. A group of acolytes came a few minutes later after hearing the commotion. They weren't too thrilled about seeing Riquet with some unknown creature but after hearing Riquet's protests of how you were a "gift from God" and that "God answered his prayer", they couldn't do anything.

The Church leader reluctantly agreed to let Riquet keep you under strict conditions: you must be collared and watched at all times, you must not interfere with Riquet's duties, you are not allowed to go outside, blah, blah, blah… To summarize, you were a prisoner. It would be easy for you to get out and never come back, but there was no way you would leave Riquet all alone -- not when he was still so young and obviously longing for a companion; so you stay and comply with their stupid rules.

It was kind of surreal how you were experiencing Riquet's childhood. The game's story made it clear how his childhood was fucked up -- how he was locked up in some hellhole while the adults manipulated him and drilled their beliefs into his mind. But it felt so much worse when you see the abuse happen in front of you. It made you sick. And worst of all, you couldn't do anything about it, otherwise they would take you away.

You do the only thing you can for Riquet -- provide him comfort. You let him hug you after a long day, you listen to his ramblings about the outside world and what he imagines it to be, you pray alongside him -- closing your eyes and shouting to some higher being up above to make time go faster so he can get out of here and meet the friends he deserves to have. You nuzzle your cheek against his when he cries silently in the middle of the night, promising that you'll always be with him. Your words come out as little squeaks, but you hope your sincerity and well wishes reach this poor kid that didn't deserve such a hard life. The one in front of you right now wasn't the sassy Riquet who can scold the strongest wizard in the world. This Riquet was barely ten years old (he's so small, you thought he was younger), deprived of a happy childhood.

Riquet's a bit clumsy with taking care of you, which is understandable. You weren't a common household pet and he was a kid. So you don't mind if he feeds you way too much or brushes you a little too hard whenever he needs to clean your fur and wings. Learning how to fly is… a challenge. Mostly because Riquet thinks that you would learn more quickly if he throws you off from a high place. You swear that your soul nearly got reincarnated again during the first time it happened. You did manage to flap your wings and catch yourself before you turned into a pancake, but it wasn't worth the trauma. After that, you vehemently refused to come with him whenever he mentioned flying.

When the mark finally appeared on Riquet's forehead, you almost cried tears of joy. You soothe his worries by nuzzling against his cheek with yours just like always and when he steps outside of that stupid church, you can't help but say "so long motherf*ckers!" It came out as a long squeak again (which is good because you don't want Riquet to learn bad words). And if some god finds your behavior disrespectful then they can smite you or whatever. You don't care. You're just happy that Riquet is finally out of that place and he'll never ever come back.

[skeelly]

"when im fat and old and my kids think im a joke"

hi!! welcome. i suggest putting a seatbelt on and i will pay for your therapy, dont worry. :)

☘ "hi, it's me. im the problem it's me.": im kristen! you can call me kristen or kris. minor. she/her. intp-t. ambivert. 🇵🇭. reader (sort of). notes app writer (sometimes). i could not care less about my dumb typos so deal with it. i suck at math. biiiiiggg ophelia wilde fan. delulu swiftie no.9273737277. rodrigoxpartidge's biggest supporter. claire rosinkranz is the reason for my existence. gracie abrams ily. "how long can we be a sad song?". im married to grayson hawthorne. mirrorball//tolerate it girlie 4 life. stromboli fan until the day i die. nick girlie by heart. pjo stan at this point. harry potter simp. hermione granger is my mother. sherlock and enola holmes stan. "no body, no crime". haylor (sorry not sorry). one direction is my life. FREE PALESTINE. kenji, my spirit animal. jude is so ughhhhh perfect. javery shipper cause jameson for avery, grayson for me :3. massive k!nye west hater so if you like him, please leave. but i love rap. certified professional procrastinator. capricorn (not a believer in those things though). i love reading poetry. correct grammar = non existent. i can (technically) fluently speak 3 languages. i can speak (basic, not much) about 5 languages?. piano enthusiast. very big sport girly (football *soccer. america football can kiss my toes. that sport sucks*, f1, volleyball, badminton, basketball, tennis and hockey fan). walker scobell is perfect and i love him. c²>>>>. sharl leclerc. max the axe. oscar paistry. ankara messi. sewy. leah is my bestie. dior is the best artist no cap. pookie nation frfr. charlie's luke is best luke. andrew is underrated. olivea is jusssttt.

☘ rappers i like//listen to: eminem, lil skies, ysbtril (does he count?), nicki minaj, doja cat (:3), cardi b (rarely), dominic fike (does he count? yk, melodic rap). tbh idk who else lol.

☘ all around favorite artists: taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, claire rosinkranz, gracie abrams, the weeknd, doja cat, lil skies, ysbtril, selena gomez (?), harry styles, niall horan, louis tomlinson, zayn, liam payne, one direction, clairo, conan gray, lana del rey, one republic, why don't we, the neighborhood, billie elish, ariana grande, abba, michael jackson.

☘ navigation?:

rambles: #kristenstedtalk

anything i don't proof read: #i didn't proof read this lmao

grayson hawthorne: #loml

cringe posts that idk why i posted: #/j or #post to delete?

asks: #askaroo or #ty for answering <3

sturniolo triplets: #stombolis

☘ follower count (as of march 20): 313 (im actually not sure lol)

☘ DNI: racists, homophobes, sexists and anyone that's ok with any form of discrimination

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ 　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ 　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

☘ safe space for: everyone lol

☘ my other accounts: @crysten my writing and other stuff @skeellymellows book rants (AAAH I CANT TAG)

☘ books/movies/series: harry potter, pjo, aggtm, tig, sherlock/enola holmes, little women, black beauty, tsitp, better than the movies. hp, pjo, enola holmes, tsitp, gilmore girls, gossip girl, mean girls, legally blonde, little women, hunger games (haven't read the books), marvel (barely lol), secretariat (my favorite :>>). tbh idk what else lol

☘ my people:

@stvrgirl111//@stvrlighhttt (mare) #maree

@urbanflorals (em) #walkers wife

@gergthecat (scouty) #evil batman sourdough guy #bread man #george

@mqstermindswift (quason) #nickyy

@nqds (NADS) #nads! or was it #NADS! ??

@reminiscentreader (JAS) #theworldneedsmorepeoplelikejas

@sophiesonlinediary (fifi) #fifi <3

@myster3y (kiaraah) #kiaraah

@regisdvmb(reggggg) ✶ @coco6420 (cocoo) ✶ @eddiethebanished (finn :)) ✶ @themidnightarcher ✶ @starchasers-stuff ✶ @what-about-wendy (wendy <3) ✶ @lucinda-008 ✶ @foaming-sea ✶ @lonelycatsblog ✶ @good-old-fashioned-lover ✶ @my-mind-is-frozen ✶ @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies ✶ @baboland ✶ @blocked-zombieartist ✶ @sturn-wrld ✶ @swiftieannah ✶ @weeping-in-the-willows ✶ @s1xseasonsandamov1e ✶ @the-red-archer ✶ @svnflowermoon ✶ @helpimhopelesslyinlove ✶ @doyoujustnotwantto ✶ @atwtmvftvtvsgavralpsss ✶ @oh-whale13 ✶ @bonesofnixie ✶ @art-of-fools (stephanieee) ✶ @percabeths-blue-cookies ✶ @imthatweirdratinthecorner (a rat <3) ✶ @letmeseeallthefrogsinthecity ✶ @that-multi-fandom-hijabi (novaaa) ✶ @rachellelizabethhdare ✶ @sluttypoetsdepartment ✶ @kimu-dem ✶

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.” 

1, 2, 3, 4

���Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency. 

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 

You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hewwo!

I'ts me again.

I had this idea for a while now, but how do you think the Tokyo Rev boys would react if they like, get teleported in our world were all their life is just a maga/anime, and they find out by meeting the reader who is also an awful simp for them?(They have like shirts, posters, action figures, an maybe like the tattoos also?, and is just an otaku- geek).

If you decide to do it could you please do it with Baji, Draken, Mikey and Kazutora?+ Others if you want.

Sorry if this is long, and specific, but I need it so baddddd😩😩😩

Ohh this is funny! Lmao they'd probably be so confused, well some more then others...

Mikey- is very confused, doesn't know how he got here or what to do about it. He isn't too concerned though, knows Draken can take care of the gang until he can figure out a way back. Fiddles about with all the merch, picking up random things and examiming them. If you don't have the most merch of him then he will pout, wants to know where his merch taiyaki maker is and isn't happy when you tell him it doesn't exist. Completely ignores exploring around and just decides to sleep in your bed instead. Will ask you to bring him food and tie his hair for him when he wakes up (have fun being the new Draken).

Baji- "what the fuck" he says it so often that it might as well be his new catchphrase. He seems angry about the whole situation, not wanting to waste time in our world when he's got so much to do in his world. If you have any Kisaki merch then hide it or he will break it. Calms down a bit either because you have a cat or if you don't then you use cooking to distract him. He's a bit short tempered but is a good guy so he'll help you with anything you need while he's here but in return asks you to help him find a way home.

Kazutora (post valhalla)- Is sooooo confused. One minute he was in juvie and the next minute he's here. Has conflicting feelings about this, he enjoys not being locked up but also wants to serve his sentence. Also worries about his progress in therapy and what leaving means. Once he gets over the shock he becomes quite curious, asking you questions, wanting to go outside with you to look around, playing about with the merch (it doesn't last long though he goes quiet when looking at the Baji merch and then the rest of toman).

Draken- Thinks this is some kind of dream or prank at first, gets frustrated when he eventually realises it isn't though. Probably punches a wall or something before realising he's probably scaring you and apologising. Isn't really interested in the merch but will politely listen as you show him things (flicks over a Hanma plushie when he thinks you're not looking). Actually contemplates reading the manga to find out what happens but decides against it. When he realises he's probably stuck here for a while he asks you to show him around your neighbourhood (he wants to check out what motorbikes are like in this world).

[anamenooneowns]

Healed

A/N: hi! i've started watching the OBX and i wanted to just write something platonic for rafe bc i feel like a lot could have been prevented if this kid just had love in his life, lmao. uh, so previously this was with the reader as him mother but i'm changing it to just be a woman who is his stepmother and black. anyone can read this though.

Warnings: light talking of animal abuse, talk of therapy, she/her pronouns.

This is entirely platonic.

IN WHICH: Rafe is Loved.

-Coming into Rafe’s life when he was starting to go through his issues at ten. He wasn’t stupid, he could see that his father was focusing more and more on Sarah and less on him

-So what did a young kid who wanted his father’s attention do? He tried harder. He tried harder because trying harder must have meant he just wasn’t doing enough in the first place. He stopped playing video games, studied 24/7, read books in his free time, took care of four year old Wheezie and of seven year old Sarah

-His stepmother saw how desperate he was for approval. Waiting for even just a splinter of a bone, like a dog, to take away and nurture secretly from everyone else’s eyes

-She also realized that when he saw good things weren’t getting his father’s attention, he turned to bad things�� really bad things

-Starting fights, locking Sarah in places like the basement or closet if she got on his nerves, telling Wheezie scary stories that made her too afraid to leave her bed and gave her nightmares she couldn’t sleep from, catching him outside one day torturing a poor stray cat that was always near the house by pulling its tail until she found him

-Rafe was still wary of her: the stepmother. Maybe not as wary as he was filled with pre-conceived notions. She had to think he was just a nuisance, an annoying boy who got into shit and was just acting out and being a spoiled brat. Rafe saw nothing meaningful in being a child because the adults around him were always staring at him like some big disappointment, whispering condolences to Ward as if he had died as a kid. That it was just a phase and when he was older it would stop

-That was where Rafe’s desire to become a man had blossomed, until she stepped in and squashed that bullshit right in the bud.

-She opened her heart to Rafe in a way that scared him. This had to be a trap. What did she gain from being so nice and sweet? Brownie points with his father because she was a good step-mom? A good reputation among the other parents for stepping up for these motherless kids?

-He responded the only way a wounded dog could. By biting.

-He was nasty and rude and mean in a specific way branded to her. Hitting where he felt it would hurt the most, wanting–needing–to drive her away because he knew if he didn’t then he’d have to face the most painful truth of all

-That someone loved him

-And she did love this precious boy. This ten year old boy who was a maelstrom of pain and hurt and anger and confusion and a bone-aching loneliness that she swallowed for him with every smile, every defense of his actions, every meal, every ruffle of his hair, and every unsaid ‘I love you’

-The early grieved childhood of Rafe Cameron turned around with the help of one woman who made being a kid have value again.

-She was incredibly patient. Soon, very early mornings became ones of meditation for her and Rafe, silence befriending both as them as they sat outside on specific, comfy pillows to start the day. Incense in the air from fragrances like lavender and vanilla to frankincense

-Rafe never thought himself to be the creative type, but he shyly found himself really enjoying pottery with her. Painting too

-He liked the idea of being able to make whatever he wanted and give it new life and redo it if he made a mistake

-He loves listening to old-school R&B and Hip-Hop with her while doing it. He has one of those reversable plushies so if it’s smiling then he wants the session to be a talking one, if it isn’t then he doesn’t want to talk but it can change mid-session too

-Rafe also never says anything about it, but he adores her curly hair and she only knows because she caught him trying to peek discreetly at her while she was doing the last braid of the row she was on

-He’s so sweet and shy too, telling her that he likes the products she uses because they smell really good and just quietly watching her do the rest

-As Rafe grows older, it’s clear he’s changed a lot but she actually forced Ward to do something about this disconnect that she sees he still has. Rafe isn’t a bad kid but he still doesn’t see that when he does certain things, they hurt people’s feelings, and his empathy isn’t fully there 

-Rafe initially resists it because his thought process is ‘they think I’m crazy’ until he actually attends with her–for support–and really enjoys it

-Rafe is kinder to his sisters and is more like a big brother now, bothering them by going into their room for no reason, messing something up, then leaving

-Rafe is always in the kitchen when she is, watching her cook and helping too at her gentle instruction

-Rafe’s best friends have been Topper and Kelce his whole life but with her intervention, he finds himself not caring at all about ‘Kooks vs. Pogues’ similarly to Sarah and I see him not choosing to be friends with them anymore because he doesn't want to become the same rotten apple. You know what they say-one (two) rotten apples spoils the whole barrel.

-Healed Rafe is completely about protecting his peace. This kid meditates, drinks tea, has been learning to not react impulsively, and is super responsible

-Rafe actually going to college and not just fucking around with Ward's money and doing drugs, all because someone saw him and helped him instead of just watching him drown

-Rafe chooses to head to college outside of the OBX and North Carolina in general to just get away from it all and on the last day, all moved into his dorms in NYC, he hugs her tightly and for the first time in the decade she's been in his family he says, “Thank you, mom, for–for everything, okay? … I love you. Sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

-There’s a lump in her throat as she hugged her son, her baby, and just held onto him a little tighter

“Don’t apologize, baby. I already knew.”

[scarlet-cookie]

I am about mmm.. 850~ ish into LOTM and MAN!!! *slams table* *forgets my thoughts* JKJK!!! Holy MOLY!!!!!! Everything is crazy!!!! I am so glad I still have 600 or so chapters of this amazingness left!!! Oh Leonard I love you. I also adore Will Auceptin’s personality lmao. Oh the Foggy Town arc? Holy, crap!!! Everything is falling into place?? And Klein’s therapy session made me wonder about how even to a reader, I still ponder whether Klein’s actions are truthful or not, or if he’s still holding something back. Truly a fool in every sense of the word!! Ah- Leonard’s little grave digging adventure is- just- the emotions he felt, I could completely get it. The writing is mwah immaculate!!

Also Klein bullying Leonard in his own dream LMAO. I can imagine that whenever that will get adapted into anime Klein would just be staring at Leonard through the wine glass like that one scene from PMMM Rebellion with Homura and Sayaka. Oh speaking of which the new trailer?????? I’m screaming. As an ORV and LOTM reader I’m eating good yum yum. Mm that sounds a little off in the ORV sense but HEY!!!

[drowninginblox]

Do you think the Straw Hats get touch-starved?

I’ve been getting into One Piece recently and the thought of getting isikaied into the show has been making its rounds in my head. Thinking of what I would do if allowed onboard has become my newest pastime so ima ramble about it.

Ofc I would do manual work and help out with the ship's cosmetics, maybe take on a little bit of everyone else’s work if they let me, but overall, what would be my role? Then I started thinking about how broken everyone is and I thought- what if I just played support?

And then the angst came rushing in-

So this is how touch-starved the straw hats are (in my POV ofc)

Luffy

I don’t think Luffy is a touch person

I mean yes the dude likes hugs and shit but I don’t think he’d die without them.

To me, Luffy comes off as someone who likes gifts or words of affirmation above everything else

Probably cus I see this guy as an aro/ace icon but that's just me

Usopp

Mans is starving but he wouldn’t realize it until literally the moment he gets crumbs

I think it’s made worse by the fact he’s thinking about Kaya almost as much as he is living in the moment (if that makes any sense)

If I were to offer him a cuddle sesh I think he’d legit think about it for a bit before turning me down out of respect for Kaya

But he be longing for physical affection bro I Mf know it

Sanji

Wants but won’t give in

As of right now, this man is a fucking s l a v e to Nami so I think that the same principle for Usopp would follow to Sanji. The only difference being his reaction would be more vocal and immediate.

“Absolutely not!”

That is to say, he definitely struggles with physical touch. I’m sure of it. There is something deep inside this boy that struggles when it comes to self-worth. I can’t place it yet but I can see it-

Zoro

I think he’d call me a whore? Idk why. But my mind is telling me that this man doesn’t need physical touch. What he needs is physical therapy for over-exerting himself.

Fr tho, if Zoro ever got the notion that he wants some hugs or platonic cuddles, I think it would be a struggle to come to terms with that.

Very much “I haven’t wanted/ needed this before, so why do I crave this now?” From that, I’d think he’d internalize that struggle until it’s something he can’t war over anymore.

He’d eventually get over himself and ask for a hug or putting his head on my lap when no one else is around/ when everyone else is asleep except us.

Nami

Oh Nami, my Nami. You do not trust easy.

You lie to yourself and strive in your own but I know that you will take anything you get girl

She’d only take side hugs if someone asked for a hug.

She doesn’t ask for one unless it’s after a life-or-death situation/something stressful. The same can be said for cuddles

I hope this bitch is pampered by someone she loves just as is not more than berries.

Honestly if it wasn't for the fact that he was a pervert, i'd put my money on Sanji but... i highly doubt that

Koby

He so is.

As soon as I offered, he would have his arms out. Always open for. a hug.

I think he'd make cuddling more than it is though.

But once he gets over it, if the free time presents itself, absolutely.

BONUS!!!

Spoilers for season 2 of OPLA or Alabasta for the new anime watchers/ manga readers!

Robin

No.

Physical touch is not on the menu for her

Not now at least.

One day though

Chopper

An adorable little thing like him is always down for a hug I know it

Will ask for hugs and cuddles not for himself but for the person he's asking them from. Mostly from Nami, Zorro, and Robin

Chopper would prob get the same vibe for me lmao

[lord-squiggletits]

If you'd still like to do the Fic Author Ask Game:

5: What part was hardest to write? for Pay Unto Evil

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading? for Exactly According to Plan

5: What part was hardest to write? for Pay Unto Evil

Depends on whether you're asking about "hardest to write" in terms of an actual scene or bit of prose as part of the writing process, or just like, hard to write in general (due to any non-writing related reasons).

For hard to write (non-writing/IRL reasons), chapter 7 and chapter 10/11 are (dis)honorable mentions because I was writing them at times where I was struggling hard IRL. Chapter 7 was during the final semester of my degree where I was basically doing over 40 hours of work per week to get the final requirement for my degree, and the stress from that made it really hard to write even when I had time. Chapters 10/11 were written during a period where my mental health snapped and I had clinical depression/anxiety but didn't have the resources yet to get therapy or medication for it. The only positive about that situation was that writing the PUE SG epilogue had me writing at a breakneck pace of 2k words per day for weeks in a row bc writing was one of the only things that made me stop feeling like shit.

For hardest to write due to the actual prose or contents of the scene... The therapy scenes during PUE 10-11 were difficult bc the goal was to accurately depict how a therapy session would go (fun fact, the therapist's name being Roaders was a transformer-ification of Carl Rogers, the guy who first conceptualized humanistic psychology), so I had to get constant help from my beta reader w/ a psychology background to make sure I depicted Roaders as a good humanistic therapist, but also while simultaneously having him say/do things that advanced the character development and plot of the story.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading? for Exactly According to Plan

Didn't listen to anything in particular while writing EATP, at least not that I can remember, bc that was fall/winter of 2020 and that was the beginning of my brain being slowly destroyed by life skldflks.

Honestly idk how well each of these songs individually would match to EATP's specific vibe, but these are just my general go-to songs for sexy vibes so here you go???

Huntar - Naked Noises

Nine Inch Nails - Closer

The Cab - Animal

Lady Gaga - LoveGame

Lady Gaga - Heavy Metal Lover

Lady Gaga - G.U.Y.

Simon Curtis - Flesh

Maroon 5 - Secret

Saving Abel - Addicted

If you haven't noticed I really like Lady Gaga lmao

[siren-serenity]

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀/𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

if you've read my 'about me' section, you probably might know that i love reading manwha/manga! the apps i primarily use are from tapas and webtoon so you might have/have not heard of some of these works. without further ado, let's get started!

↳˳;; ❝ 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐒 ᵕ̈೫˚∗

romance ⋆·˚ ༘ * beware the villainess! ⋆·˚ ༘ * the villainess is a marionette ⋆·˚ ༘ * villainesses have more fun ⋆·˚ ༘ * i shall master this family ⋆·˚ ༘ * the male lead's little lion daughter (a/n: although it is under the romance section, it's currently non-romantic! it states it in the description, which made me put it here) ⋆·˚ ༘ * my boss's special request ⋆·˚ ༘ * the siren: becoming the villain's family ⋆·˚ ༘ * revenge on the real one ⋆·˚ ༘ * marriage of convenience ⋆·˚ ༘ * villains are destined to die ⋆·˚ ༘ * what it means to be you (a/n: caution! heavy mentions of depression and suicide, but the plotline is very interesting!) ⋆·˚ ༘ * cassmire: the loyal sword ⋆·˚ ༘ * writing my male lead's happily ever after ⋆·˚ ༘ * just leave me be ⋆·˚ ༘ * the perks of being a villainess

action ⋆·˚ ༘ * solo leveling (a/n: it's getting an anime adaptation yall!!) ⋆·˚ ༘ * the novel's extra ⋆·˚ ༘ * gourmet gaming ⋆·˚ ༘ * second try idol ⋆·˚ ༘ * rookie chef with the magic touch

↳˳;; ❝ 𝐖𝐄𝐁𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐍 ᵕ̈೫˚∗

romance ⋆·˚ ༘ * the remarried empress ⋆·˚ ༘ * secretary out-of-order ⋆·˚ ༘ * marry my husband ⋆·˚ ༘ * daytime star ⋆·˚ ༘ * serena ⋆·˚ ༘ * leveling up my husband to the max ⋆·˚ ༘ * maybe meant to be (a/n: ML, please just get contacts...i'm begging you) ⋆·˚ ༘ * operation: true love ⋆·˚ ༘ * your throne (a/n: two badass FL is all i can ask for :)) ⋆·˚ ༘ * for my derelict favorite ⋆·˚ ༘ * sixth sense kiss ⋆·˚ ༘ * my in-laws are obsessed with me ⋆·˚ ༘ * i thought my time was up!

action ⋆·˚ ༘ * omniscient reader (a/n: literally my #1 on webtoon! bro i'm addicted to the art and the storyline like hello please grant me those magical abilities tq) ⋆·˚ ༘ * the greatest estate developer (a/n: the mc is so funny like pls- his expressions lmao!! every other second the guy's like: "money, money, money, must be funny, in the rich man's world") ⋆·˚ ༘ * get schooled (honestly i loved this series so much that i binged all 100+ episodes in two days! it finished it's first season and i love each and every arc. the art was magnificient. the character development was amazing. i love it so much!!) ⋆·˚ ༘ * teenage mercenary (10/10 for real!! ijin is so badass, i love the entire concept and 006 can marry me. oh, and 005 can willingly have me as her puppet. i binged all 110+ episodes in two days also! right before exams- sue me, but goddamn i love the series) ⋆·˚ ༘ * lookism (holy shit this was a rollercoaster of emotions idk how i'm going to recover from it- ITS SO GOOD LIKE I JUST WANT MORE!! 400+ EPISODES CAN'T HOLD ME BACK I NEED MOREE)

horror ⋆·˚ ༘ * melvina's therapy (a/n: personally, i'm not into horror but i read a couple of chapters of this and loved it! the art is amazing, everything has so many intricate details that the author literally has to put a message at the end of each 'mini-story' to show the readers little easter eggs they sneaked in and i'm always like: wth??) ⋆·˚ ༘ * surviving romance (a/n: the art is so beautiful!! the plot is tso heartwrenchingly sad, funny, and gorgeous all at once! i binged read all 80+ chapters in two days hahaha)

[valleynix]

I listened to all the audios AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

My brain is braining with so many ideas rn, anyways here is my input on them

reader/lunatic needs some therapy fr- CALL DANIELA

OMG I NEED A SCENE WHERE READER AND LUNATIC ARE ACTUALLY WORKING TOGETHER BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE INSANE- you thought one mutated bird was hard to beat HOW ABOUT TWO

OMGGGGG I love this song sm, and plus I also thought about readers beginning dynamic with this song, IT JUST FITS SO WELL

BACKSTABBER- I’m scared… I need this story to be canon rn, with full 4K 1080p 3d mocap animations

Chp 1-7 WAS A ROLLERCOASTER OF EMOTIONS (I love it so much), at first I was a bit confused but when I reread the story with context EVERYTHING WAS SO COOL AND MADE SENSE AND OMGGJSJDBAJBSKANSKSNS$:@/$;&/& I LOVE UR WRITINGGGGG!!!! man I’m about draw you scenarios just so you can edit them

THISSSS AUDIOOOOOOOOO NGL the distortion of the voice in the audio is what I imagine lunatic’s voice is like (not the voice itself just the distortion

Reader beating the shit out of Miranda for everything she did to them is not a want.. ITS A NEED

AAA my heart 😰😰😰 I’m imagining Daniela trying to bring reader back from a frenzy but reader is just trying to tell her to kill them so she can be safe 😭😭

Ethan: finally!! They’re down! Lunatic: Ethan:….. shit NAH BUT READER/LUNATIC IN RE8 WOULD BE INSANE, an elden ring boss healthbar appears at the bottom-

THIS WITH READER TRYING TO GO BACK IN TIME WHILE THINKING OF THE DIMITRESCUS BDJAJSJA I’m dying rn

Cassandra and reader dancing in the village…. CASSANDRA AND READER DANCING IN THE VILLAGE

Below the surface fits them so well I love that song so much

STOP IM GONNA CRY- Cassandra will never live that down if she killed them. Her first love killed by her hands 😭😭😭😭

Reader just raging in their memories trying to find a way to go back

IT DOES OKAY IT FITS THEM SO MUCH

okay I’m crying now AAAAAAAAAA Daniela would put new rocks she found in their grave (if they even have one), and tell them about the new flowers she planted while crying 😭😭😭😭

ANYWAYS KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK

IM SO SORRY, I ONLY JUST GOT BACK FROM WORK BUT HERE WE GO

now imagine Daniela just sits them both down and is like, "you two work on your problems or i'm not giving either of you rocks for a week" (their problems are solved in record speed)

i'm really thinking about writing that little AU thing where Reader/Lunatic are actually like working together to take an intruder down LMAO (there's a boss in Dark Souls 3 that reminds me of them but i cannot remember the name:( )

THIS SONG IS LITERALLY SO GOOD, i so desperately want to edit them SO BAD to this song but they are only canon in my mind :'(

the way you read my mind... i would literally beg capcom to help me make some mocap animations just to make edits of them SKDJFHSDJKFHS

SKDJFHSKJF THAT WAS MY INTENTION!!! literally when i started out writing TPtM, i was trying to confuse you all but have it make sense if you were to go back and reread, AND IM SO GLAD I ACHEIVED THAT PLEASE (also i will literally fall in love with you if you draw scenarios oh my god-)

this distortion is what they're supposed to sound like!! like Reader's voice mixed with something a little more sinister, almost like the second voice is just slightly delayed

LISTEN SHE WILL GET WHATS COMING TO HER I PROMISE, i love my lil bioterrorist but she has gone way too far 😭

THATS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED IT, like she's just trying so hard to convince them how much she adores them and how she can help them, and Reader is just warning her to stay away or that they're a lost cause, that she should just take them out while she still can... :(

no because imagine Reader is just all bloody and on the floor, gasping for air, multiple bullet wounds in their body, and they're just kind of crawling back into the shadows. Ethan goes to finish the battle, only to see... multiple eyes amongst the shadows?? and why the fuck is there a darker than black shadow he can barely see??? and then that's when Lunatic probably steps over their body to protect them and goes absolutely apeshit

(also, Ethan would've never made it out alive if these two were in RE8 LMAO, like he could probably try reasoning with Reader, but the second he even thought of harming the Dimitrescus, he'd be taken out)

HEHEHE, i did have a much angstier thought for it but honestly them trying to go back through their memories works too-

PLEASEEEE MY HEART CANT TAKE IT, I NEVER EVEN THOUGHT THIS COULD FIT CASS/READER DANCING IN THE VILLAGE BUT NOW THAT IM IMAGINING IT??? OH MY GOD

below the surface is literally so good please, every time i hear it, i think of them

SHE WOULD NEVER FORGIVE HERSELF- she'd just be looking at the older sketches she's done of them, and eventually, there would come a time she can no longer draw them simply from memory, and it would probably be the only instance she breaks down ugly sobbing

FALL FAIR SUITE IS SUCH A GOOD RAGE SONG LOWKEY, like it really doesn't sound like one but my god-

IM SO GLAD YALL AGREE LIKE IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT

YALL HAVE GOT TO STOP MAKING ME CRY, THATS SUPPOSED TO BE MY JOB >:'( she'd literally be trying so hard to keep a smile on her face while tears are streaming down her cheeks, and she'd just talk to their grave (or wherever it was decided their "grave" would be, body or not) as if they were simply sitting next to her :(

OKAY IM GONNA GO LISTEN TO THE OTHER AUDIOS Y'ALL SENT IN, JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND APPRECIATE YOU AND GETTING ASKS ABOUT OTHER AUDIOS MADE ME ALMOST CRY <33333

[ace-tiredtimes]

A/N | These are kind all over the place lmao Just some headcanons of younger ASL with a Tired Older Brother that probably needs some therapy lmao (Maybe some reactions of Straw Hats / Whitebeard Crew of finding out they have another brother and meeting) (GIF found on Pinterest)

Pronouns used | Reader is male so He/Him but its in 2nd perspective so You/Your

Pairings used | Platonic ASL x Reader, Platonic Straw Hat x Reader, Platonic Whitebeard Pirates x Reader, Slight Thatch x Reader

ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ?!

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ You were the first kid Garp gave to Dadan, you were around 4 when he dropped you off on the mountain and just left

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Dandan found out quickly that you were low on energy, which she was happy about, so you weren't much trouble

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ However she was worried as she has never seen you sleep, even though you keep reassuring her that you do indeed sleep (Er somewhat)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Now when Ace was introduced to you, he instantly loved you

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ You don't know why and you don't honestly care but he seemed to cling to you, follow you around, and try to prove himself to you

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He would drag you out into the forest and 'teach' you how to hunt the animals there (When in reality you already knew how to but let him do his thing)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ However as he got older he started going out on his own and leaving you be, seeing how much more tired you became (Ofc he still drags you out everyone in a while)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Once he met Sabo, he instantly (like 2 weeks after meeting) brought him home to introduce him to you - he wants his new best friend to meet his cool older brother (Even though he never admits either)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When Sabo met you, he understand why Ace talked so highly about you over the last two weeks

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He could tell you were strong, he could tell you would do anything for your family no matter how much energy it took

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Like Ace, he stuck to you, followed you around, and tried to prove himself to you (Not as much as Ace but still)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ They looked like Ducklings to you, A Mother Duck and her Ducklings (You had to admit it was very cute)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When you went to the village, them trying -and failing- to follow you secretly, wanting to see what you do throughout the day they're in the forest

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ They will ask for cuddles, discretely, but still

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Like that one time you were laying in your bed eyes closed trying to sleep when your bedroom door opened and in came a whispering Ace and Sabo, they then snuck into your bed -not very quietly- and cuddled up to you and fell asleep

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ And if you said anything about and I mean anything, Ace wouldn't join in these 'Nap Cuddles' for a while (Sabo on the other hand wouldn't care, an embarrassed blush at being caught but still join you)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When Luffy was introduced to you, he was just like the other two, although he doesn't find the need to prove himself to you

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He did sit at the table with you just talking and asking questions for a bit before Ace returned

"So there's another boy living here?"

"Mhm..he's out right now"

"Is there any food here? I'm hungry"

"...Dinner will be served soon I think"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Most of his questions are about food and the 'boy that lives here' but mostly about food

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Now when Ace returned with a Hippo, he was jealous mad to see another boy in the house

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He sat right next to you, a glare on his face as he stared at Luffy

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Dinner was fucking crazy

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ That's all you're going to get about dinner labuogr-

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It really annoyed you how rude Ace was to Luffy, but you didn't say shit. It would pass over eventually (Plus Luffy was persistent to be friends)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Let's skip to the others finding out cause I'm getting lazy lmao

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Let's say Luffy mentioned you right after Alabasta "Oooo! I wonder what Aniki is doing!" Well it was more like he was talking to himself and the crew overheard

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ At first they thought it was about Ace, but Luffy never called Ace 'Aniki'

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ After a few more overheard mentions of this 'Aniki', Nami finally asked who it was

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ And the crew was shook

"ANOTHER BROTHER?!?!"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ While Luffy just laughed with a cheeky smile on his face like he did something (which he kinda did lol)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Chopper was asking questions and Luffy answered with excitement, he loved telling stories about his childhood, especially all the different things you taught him

"And this one-time Y/n kidnapped me from my bed in the middle of the night and left me out in the forest for a whole 3 days telling me that I needed to learn how to survive on my own! It was soooo fun!"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ The crew was shocked, to say the least (again) that you did something like that (in reality you just needed a break from the boy)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ They started to think you were this mean, angry monster from all the stories Luffy told lmao

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When they met you, however, they were shocked once more as you look done with life and just wanted to sleep

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Luffy was overjoyed that they found you sailing the ocean in a small boat (Usopp, Chopper, and Nami were shocked that you were even alive as you used a small simple boat, like how?)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ They found your tiredness and blunt words hilarious, as you poked and argued playfully and calmly with Luffy

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ They saw the similarity between you and Ace tho, you said some similar things he did (they conclude that you were the one that raised him)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Plus Luffy followed you around like a duck when you where aboard

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He even shared some of his food which the crew didn't know was possible

"He always shared his food with me when we were younger! Plus he doesn't eat enough!"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Proceeds to shove food down your throat

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When you had to leave he wouldn't let go of your leg, he just whined and whined saying you shouldn't go and should join his crew

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It took almost all of the crew to get him off lmao

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Now let's go onto Ace and the Whitebeard Pirates (Aka my favorites ghruw-)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ They knew right away-well when the bounties came in and Ace saw Luffy's and Yours

"LOOK ITS MY BROTHERS! IMOUTO AND ANIKI!"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He was shoving the papers into Whitebeard's Face, into Marco's Face, and into Thatch's Face (Everyone wasn't excluded to having a paper shoved in his face however those three got it the most lmao)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Whitebeard just laughed, as he's actually met you before but didn't say anything to Ace about it

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Marco was with Whitebeard at the time too but never actually meet you, you know? He saw a glimpse of you as you talked with Pops but never approached you

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He was kinda excited to be able to see the face of the man Pops was talking to a couple years back but it didn't show on his face at all

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When they found you sailing the Grandline in a tiny boat they were just staring with wide-eyed and mouths touching the floor

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Ace excitedly welcomed you aboard, rambling on and on about what happened over the past couple of years and yadda yadda

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Pops had a small smile on his face as he watched you interact with his sons

"It is good to see you again Y/n"

"You too Pops"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Ace kinda just stared between you and Whitebeard before connecting the dots

"YOU ALREADY KNOW EACHOTHER?!?"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ His reaction was funny lmao he was yelling incoherent words and shit as he freaked out

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Marco simply pushed past him (Almost knocking him over) and introduced himself to you

"I'm Marco, 1st Division Commander"

"Ohhhh you're the Bird Boy Pops was talking about"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He kinda stiffened up as 'Bird Boy' left your mouth, Ace snickering behind him with a hand covering his mouth

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ There was a big party that night with alcohol and cake and everything you could think of

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Thatch was proud to hear that you loved his food and was even blushing when you asked to talk some with you when you left

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Like yes he's been complimented before but damn you look good, your tired and sleepy voice just flustered him

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Thatch may or may not have gained a teeny weeny crush on you (Which Marco teases him about)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ And the nickname 'Baker Boy' hm hm HM he's a puddle on the floor

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Ace would also notice a couple hours into the party and become protective over you, glaring at Thatch every time he got 'too close'

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It was hilarious to watch, like a Chihuahua trying to keep 'the danger' away from its owner

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ You could tell Thatch was catching the case of 'Love sick Puppy' but didn't do anything about it besides the little teases (You found his reactions adorable)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Once you have to leave, Ace and Whitebeard are asking you to join the crew

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Ace was specifically persistent on keeping you here, seeing as he didn't want you to leave and he wanted to protect you from the other love interests or 'Dangers' in his words

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ However you simply shook your head, took the bag of sweets Thatch had prepared for you, and left

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Now when you ran into Sabo -let's say he was on a mission or something- he didn't remember you

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It took a few minutes for you to figure this out and he wasn't just joking around

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It broke your heart, it did but you just brushed him off, saying you thought he was someone else, which he understood somewhat

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ However when you met again and he did remember you, he felt absolutely horrible for forgetting (He also remembered the time you approached him and he didn't remember you, he remembered your eyes and how hurt you looked)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He instantly asked Dragon if he could go searching for you, he wanted to apologize and hug you (He really missed your soft, tired hugs)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ After begging and pleading, he finally was able to leave for a week but that's it and he left right away, only packing a few necessities

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ After about 5 days, he finally found you on an island with a small village (He wasn't paying attention to what the island was called)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Once he spotted you he fucking bolted towards you tears streaming down his face

"I'm so fucking sorry I'm so sorry I can't believe I-"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He wouldn't stop apologizing and clinging to you and it surprised you, seeing as you didn't expect it

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ You guys spent the next 2 days talking, catching up, and you comforting Sabo

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ He clung to you throughout the two days, whether it be on your arm or waist (Platonic Cuddles at the hotel room you had)

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It was an emotional meeting and emotional hang out for the next 2 days

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ But you two did go shopping right before he had to go back

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ Here is one story about you and child ASL

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ There was this one time Ace and Luffy dragged you out into the forest at the ass crack of dawn just to show you the tree house and flag they made

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When you saw it a smile was instantly on your face as you spotted a small sideways Z in the background of the flag, it looked more like a zigzag than anything but Luffy had excitedly explained it to you

"You're gonna be the First Mate of this Crew! And I'm gonna be the Captain!" -Luffy

"Nu huh! I'm gonna be the Captian!" -Ace

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ It went back and forth for the next few hours and it got so annoying for you that you took Sabo and quietly left the treehouse to just walk around the quiet forest

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ When they noticed you and Sabo were gone they instantly rushed out of the treehouse and into the forest, yelling for you lmao

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ And that's all I'm going to do I'm tired-

[preciouslandmermaid]

cold secrets, warm light (simon “ghost” riley x f!reader) - part 2/3

Note: This got longer than expected, so now it’s gonna be 3 chapters instead of 2. LMAO.  This takes place in the same universe as cold hands, warm heart and is seen as a continuation of that fic. 

Rating/Warning: Canon typical violence, blood/injury/and minor gore. Thigh grinding and making out.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) haha ! nice! (also those gloves make me feral)

** All the names of politicians are fake/do not relate to any living or deceased person. I also created 2 entire locations because I don’t want to use the real world lmao. (Al-Qunbar & Noreth)

No use of Y/N. Reader is described as muscular/toned with scars from active combat/torture, and no other descriptors are used.

(Read on Ao3) ||| 🔪🔪🔪

~~~~~~~~~

In the days that follow, you settle into a routine with Ghost and Soap at the safe house. Samira looked after Soap. She attended to his medical needs and physical therapy. He’s a decent patient until his frustration boils over and then he’s huffing like an old goat and crossing his arms. Agathi’s boys worked the farmland. They shovel manure, or prune plants, or tend to the harvest. The security of the safe house is organized into scheduled shifts. The perimeter of the property, the barn, and the house itself are your main concerns.

However, Ghost took over the sniper position at the barn. Instead of following the six-hour schedule, he stayed up there for twelve to fourteen hours. When he returns to the house, he talks to Soap, rests, then returns to the barn without speaking to anyone else. You don’t take it personally. Ghost is a diligent operative. He never wavers. He never falters. You are safer, Lukas is safer, with him here.  

Your nails are encrusted with dark, rich earth from digging up carrots with James and Lukas. Lukas’ favorite task is to unearth food you’ve grown. He smiles brightly, holding aloft potatoes or carrots or stalks of green onions, and you cannot help but smile in return. He is a sweet and tender boy. And its awe inspiring someone so sweet and gentle could come from you. A trained killer. A girl made of ice. A woman without identity, without roots.

You skim your dirty hands across the stalks of tall reeds while walking down the dirt, pebble-strewn road. A lone bird calls out to signal that night is upon them and the predators will awaken soon. Your smile tugs errantly at the corners of your mouth.

The sky is bruising purple and dusky blue. The clouds on the horizon promised rain. You can smell in the air – fresh, biting, and green. You unscrew the cap of your flask and swallow a warm, robust mouthful of black tea. The dilapidated barn leans against a backdrop of dying sunlight like a wounded animal. Sven emerges from the grass with a sheepish smile. His blue eyes dart briefly to the barn loft.

He says, “time for shift change already?”

“I’m early.” You ruffle his stringy, blonde hair. “Go on. Your brother is waiting.”

Sven flushes bright red.  “Thanks.”

You watch him jog down the road with a flashlight in his hand. You check under the tire well of the abandoned truck and find the hidden pistol. You check the safety and clip. You tuck it away again. Price, the thoughtful bastard, managed to arrange a covert supply drop. Ghost collected it earlier in the week. It contained ammunition, infrared lights, night vision scopes, and supplies for Soap and Ghost.

Price can get into serious trouble by his superiors if anyone finds out about it.

You aren’t sure why he keeps sticking his neck out to help you, but you’re grateful. You think of Lukas. You wonder if he suspects anything. Samira often says fondly, ‘it’s as if God took the blueprints of you and made him.’ You don’t see it. And whenever you tell Samira this, she laughs, and her scarred skin stretches with joy.

The wooden ladder creaks when you ascend it. Ghost is perched with his sniper and completely unmoving. Your nostrils itch as the scent of old, dusty hay fills them. You sniffle and wipe your nose with your knuckles.

“All clear,” drawls Ghost.

“Yes, I know. I was just outside.”

Ghost scoffs. You settle crossed legged next to him. You glance at his stark black-and-white profile. His sandy eyelashes flutter against his black-painted skin. Your body hums with acute unspoken desire. You trace the shapes of his tattoos on his forearm. You would give anything to touch him and feel the hot expanse of his skin across your palms. You’ve lain awake in your cold bed, tossing, and turning and coiled with taut desire, and wondered if he’d shun you if you came to find him. But you always manage to talk yourself out of it.

There’s no benefit in complicating matters further. Noreth is at war. You and Lukas can’t leave. Soap and Ghost can’t leave. The best course of action is to lay low and keep safe until extraction. You swallow another gulp of tea and watch the cloudy, star dotted horizon and swaying tall grass.  

“What’re you drinking?”

“Tea.” You wipe your mouth with your fingers.

“Nothing stronger?” He grouses.

“We’ve got vodka back at the house.”

He gives a small shake of his head. “Foul.”

You extend your arm toward him, the flask pinched between your fingers, and Ghost glances sidelong at you. Seconds pass. You’re about to pull it away. But then Ghost reaches and accepts the flask without touching you. You force yourself to look away rather than look at him. You imagine the shape of his lips closing over the mouth of the flask. You imagine his muscled throat shifting when he swallows. You imagine him wiping away a teardrop of tea from the corner of his mouth with his gloved thumb. You wait until you hear the sound of the cap screwing back on before looking at him again.

His mask is pushed up to right below his nose. His jaw is shadowed with dark blonde stubble. You recall how it scratched against your bare skin and left faint, irritated red lines. You avert your eyes.  

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” He mumbles.

You shrug, “things have changed.”

“Have they?” He says and the words are deep and rumbling. You take the flask from him and drink to delay answering his question. Things have changed. You are no longer an intelligence agent. You deserted. You have a child. You have good people relying on you. You have a reason beyond survival to carve a place for yourself in this new world.

“A bit.” You respond vaguely. The silence stretches, weighted and poignant, and you crack your knuckles one finger at a time. It never used to be awkward with Simon. Or has nostalgia completely skewed your perception? Or is it your guilt? Your fingertips touch when you pass the flask again. An electric jolt fires across your skin. You meet his heavily lidded, shadowed eyes. The unsaid words and confessions linger on your tongue. The distance between you is miniscule. It’s mere inches, but it feels like an endless chasm. You risk the danger and shift closer.

His skeletal gloved fingers graze along the feverish skin on your inner wrist.

“We shouldn’t complicate things.” You blurt. Your secret presses on every of your chamber of your heart. His presses his lips together and cocks his head to the side.

“We’re well past that, Lux.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, Ghost.”

The rough texture of his gloves glides up to your shoulder, lightly touching your neck, and you feel his index finger slide under the golden chain of your necklace. Your pulse throbs in your carotid artery. The moth charm twirls, pretty and light, between Simon’s large fingers.

“I’m not saying this to be coy or mysterious, Riley.” When you use his name, his eyes dart from your throat to your face, and you feel every ounce of his attention on you. You feel like a butterfly pinned to a display frame.

A hot and prickly sensation burns in your throat, “I have secrets you’d hate me for keeping.” You whisper.

You swallow with some difficulty. His tongue sweeps across his lower, chapped lip before he pulls his lower lip between his teeth briefly. Your heart stutters.  You force your eyes from his mouth.

“I doubt that very much.” His voice is rumbling, and quiet, and its reverberation echoes into your spine. Your skin burns. Your breath, ragged and warm ,drags itself through your lungs and out your parted lips. You tilt forward and press your forehead against the cool, hard plastic of his mask. Your eyes shutter closed.

Simon says your name longingly. His breath tickles your chin. Your heart pangs to tell him the truth about Lukas, about Al-Qunbar, about Price and his help. Yet, pragmatism pinches your tongue in a vice grip. Lukas’ safety and well-being is everything to you. The less people who know the truth the better.

His lips ghost across yours. His stubble is prickly and rough. Without further prompting or encouragement, you kiss him and slide your tongue between his lips. You tremble and your breath huffs desperately through your nostrils. You hold his jaw. You need him close. You want to wrap your bodies together and remain glued. An overwhelming sensation of bliss floods through your veins. Simon’s tongue moves languidly and tastes of robust black tea. He squeezes the back of your neck, holding you tight and refusing to let you pull away. A heady sense of warmth explodes inside your chest and launches your heart into a tailspin.

You throw your leg over his big thigh, straddling it, and Simon makes a low, pleased sound at the back of his throat. His other hand clutches your hip—tight, possessive, his thumb digs into your flesh. He pitches your hips forward, then pushes back, and you quickly get the idea. You clothed cunt grinds against his muscled thigh. You encircle your arms around his neck, pressed chest-to-chest, and feel Simon’s every rough inhale and exhale. Your original plan to remain distant and uncomplicated has crashed and burned into ash and charcoal.

His tongue flicks obscenely and wetly into your open, panting mouth. “Can you come like this?” He asks, “or do you want my hand, hm? My fingers?” The thought of Simon’s hand shoved between your legs is enough to make your body tighten with anticipation and desire. You wonder if he’ll keep the gloves on.

“We have to keep watch.” You whimper.

He chuckles like deep, dark wine. “I can multitask.”

The temptation threatens to drag you underwater. You are swept into the current  of Simon’s influence and your own intoxicating desire. His warm, rough burr. His large and deliberate hands. His strong, muscled arms and legs. His chiseled abdominal muscles quiver as you push your hands up his shirt and touch his hot, damp skin.

“God,” He drags the word out and tilts his head back to look up at you, “you’re gonna kill me, Lux.”

You smile. You are lost in the deep, coffee color of his eyes shadowed by ashen blonde lashes and smudged with black camo paint. They are the same shade as Lukas’. An arrow of guilt spears your heart. What are you doing? Noreth is at war. You’re on watch. You’ll never forgive yourself if Lukas got hurt because you let your lust overwhelm your logic. You clear your throat.

You say, “we – we should wait until we’re inside.” You climb off his leg and adjust your rumpled shirt. “Okay?”

Ghost licks his lips and watches you with dark, hungry eyes. “I’m a sniper. A few hours is nothing.”

“Great.” You reply, your voice tight, “I’m going to walk the perimeter.”

~~~~~~~~

The walk back to the heaven is tense. It is filled with piping hot anticipation and coated in white foam that tastes like a hopeful dream, a beggar’s wish. Two dimly lit windows peer like eyes onto the dead lawn and black skeletal shape of Kaja’s motorbike.

Simon’s palm glides along your lower back and blistering heat floods your stomach. Your body clenches and your clit throbs with pressure and desire. You’ve thought of nearly a dozen different positions and fantasies during your walk. This is unlike your time with the task force. You don’t need to avoid detection. Neither Samira nor Agathi will judge you. Although, for the sake of those sleeping, you resolve to do your best to stay quiet.

The front door opens to the sound of Lukas crying. Agathi is holding him, bouncing softly, and her tired face looks relieved when you cross the threshold.

“Nightmare.” She explains. Lukas reaches his tiny hands toward you.

“I’ve got him.” You bundle Lukas into your arms and kiss his flushed, sticky-with-tears cheek. You glance apologetically toward Ghost. Perhaps this is for the best. Maybe you shouldn’t sleep together. Maybe this was some unseen force ensuring that you and Ghost remain uncomplicated. Maybe it’s saving you from breaking your heart again. Once Soap is clear, Ghost will leave. You know it. You believe it.  

You sway Lukas in your arms and mutter softly.

~~~~~~~~~

Ghost stands frozen in the doorway. The boy has his eyes. And the realization is like a leech. He cannot shake it. He cannot bear to be in the same room as you and the crying child. The child with his eyes. He stalks down the hall and ducks into the small room arranged for him and Soap.

Soap is asleep. He’s glad for it. He doesn’t want questions. His breath his ragged and edged like shrapnel in his lungs. His skin is flushed and stretched uncomfortably over his bones. You held Lukas sweetly. You kissed his face. You showed him more affection than James or Sven. How did he not see it earlier?

Lukas looks nothing like Sven or James or Agathi. He looks like you. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t. You must’ve had a child with someone during your time in Al-Qunbar. He scowls. The maths didn’t add up there either. He guessed Lukas’ age is close to 3. Lukas would be younger if you gave birth to him in Al-Qunbar. Then when? With whom?

He swallows thickly and recalls your short time together. Lukas can’t be his. Can’t be. Can’t. He’s not fit to be a father. He’s a dangerous man. A killer. And a damn good one at that. His palms are sweaty and clammy. He peels off his skeletal gloves and tucks them into the back pocket of his pants. He chews his tongue with his back molars.

If Lukas is yours then he doubts the agency knows. A child is a target. A vulnerability. He starts cleaning one of his guns to keep his hands busy. The gun oil is slick and warm against his fingers. He clears his dry, uncomfortable throat. He thinks about your weighted words in the barn. You mentioned you had a secret. You said it was something he’d hate you for.

His slick, oiled hands move purposefully over the metal. His gaze flicks upward to Soap. He watches his chest breathing evenly beneath the dark sheets. They will stay here for a few weeks and then they’d leave. He can endure it.  

You were never meant to have a reunion. And he is a fool for wishing for anything other than what he got. Regardless of who Lukas belongs to—he’s no one’s father. He’s not destined for a civilian life. He’s comfortable in the danger. He’s comfortable wearing the mask. He likes it too much to walk away.

He can’t go and live on a farm and change nappies. That’s not who he is. And he won’t bring danger to your doorstep. But he doesn’t want to say goodbye again. He doesn’t want you to disappear. Ghost sighs heavily and sets the pistol on his bouncing knee.

He needs to talk to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took an hour to get Lukas back to sleep. You settle into one of the wooden chairs on your small, porch balcony outside your bedroom and watch the darkness and swaying grass. You roll the night vision scope between your palms and feel the roughed, grip texture. You peer through it ever-so-often toward the barn. You consider joining Kaja, but you don’t want to leave Lukas in case he has another nightmare.

A floorboard creaks. The smell of gun oil permeates the air. Ghost sits in the chair beside you.

He asks, “what’s the story between the kids here? They got family on the outside?”

You bite your lip. “Not really.”

“What about their dad?”

“Agathi’s husband is dead.” You explain.

Ghost rests his elbows on his knees, “and the small one?”

You chose your next words carefully. “He’s alive. I tell him his dad is a soldier working hard to keep everyone safe.”

Ghost stares at you, unblinking, and his gaze is like holding a lit cigar to your skin.

“That the truth?” says Ghost gruffly.

The crickets chirp, a chorus, a symphony, lonely and desperate for connection.

“The truth would hurt everyone, ” You shrug.

“It would hurt him.” You look meaningfully over your shoulder toward Lukas’ bedroom door adjacent to your room.

Simon’s tone is commanding and harsh as nails, “tell me the truth.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. A swirl of black and purple spots spin on the canvas of your eyelids. You had hoped to avoid this conversation. But Simon has connected the dots and you played your hand too heavily when you told him you carried a guilty secret.

“Do you remember Al-Qunbar?” You ask.

He hums, “Mhm.”

It was the last place you and Ghost met. A city of dust and smoke, a marble fountain that gurgled with blood.

“I was Qadir’s mistress,” you begin, referring to the politician that governed Al-Qunbar, “that was my cover. It was not uncommon in their culture for people of power, regardless of gender, to have multiple partners or spouses. And they considered multiple children as a sign of virility and good fortune.”

You inhale slowly. This is the part of the story that is like traversing a minefield. You’ve imagined telling him, but never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d get the chance.

“Qadir had many children. But his regime was unstable. I begged him to send the children away. I groveled.” Your voice quivers and tears sting your eyes like wasps. You bite down on your lower lip and compose yourself.

“Qadir refused. He said we’d all go together in the end. He gave poison disguised as medicine to his wives, his mistresses, his personal guards…his children…his children…”

You knew those children. You cared for them. You scrub a hand over your face. Finding the courage to topple dictators or stare at the barrel of a loaded gun is easy. But looking at Simon is impossible. You focus on a spot in the dark, starry horizon. The high grass that surrounds your property sways like whispering dancers.

“I knew I couldn't’ save them all, so I chose Lukas.”

“Samira helped. She was Qadir’s midwife and served in his military as a doctor. The day Qadir was assassinated, I got Lukas out, but I couldn’t leave Al-Qunbar. Not yet. The extremists, the loyalists, the American agents. None of them could know he was alive. I need to make it seem like everyone in Qadir’s family perished in the uprising.”

The wooden chair creaks like an old ship underneath Simon’s weight.

“You were the one who torched his compound.” He says. It’s not a question. You wonder if he read the file. You wonder if anyone told him your undercover name and saw you were listed under ‘killed in action’. You wonder if Price mentioned his part in helping you escape from under the thumb of imperialism.

You nod. You burned Qadir’s house, and all the bodies within, and fled. You earned yourself a deep wound from a sniper at the town square before you reunited with Ghost’s team.

Simon scoffs, “I think you’re a bit of an arsonist, Lux.”

You recognize his attempt at humor, but you can’t summon the energy to smile. You’ve told him the background, you’ve set the stage, but you haven’t brought the main actors into the play. You haven’t revealed the truth.

Your voice scratches as it travels up your throat. “I told Qadir the baby was his, but the timing was off.”

“He’s yours, Simon.” You finish weakly and your heart capsizes inside your chest, “he’s ours.”

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look away. The mask hides everything from you and his eyes are guarded and cold. He will hate you. You are sure of it. He will hate you for lying, for not contacting him, for keeping Lukas.

You lift the night vision scope to your face to hide your hurt expression.

~~~~~~~~~

“Shit!” You jolt upright, blood pounds in your ears, and your eyes swivel across the black landscape. You peer through the night vision binoculars to assure you saw Kaja’s signal accurately. You’re not mistaken. She flashed her infrared twice. Trouble.

“What is it?” Ghost is beside you, alert.

“Kaja is in trouble.”

He huffs. You think there’s a question poised in his eyes, but then a burst of gunfire illuminates the darkness like white fireworks. You drop like a stone into fight-or-flight. You run into the adjoining bedroom and scoop Lukas into your arms, waking him, and he cries – startled – in your arms. There is nothing inside your head beyond the checklist of tasks you must complete for your sons’ safety.

“It’s alright, lovey. It’s just a storm.” You assure him.

You barrel down the hallway. James and Sven step into the hallway with Agathi clutching their shoulders. You swerve pass them, taking the steps hurriedly, your heartbeat thundering in your ears and drowning out the sounds of Lukas’ tears and the encroaching gunfire. You don’t bother to look behind you or check for Ghost. He doesn’t know the household protocol, but he can handle himself in a fight. You aren’t worried about him.

“If you get out of that wheelchair, I’ll kill you myself.” Samira snaps. She shoves a loaded shotgun into Soap’s hand. “Protect the little ones.”

You duck into the basement. The door is heavily fortified, and along with supplies, the back left corner equipped with an escape tunnel.

“Alright, there, there, sweet boy.” You kiss the side of Lukas’ head, “it’s going to be alright.” You bounce in him in your arms, kissing and repeating platitudes, promising him that everything will be OK. You never expected motherhood to come equipped with so many desperate lies.

Agathi opens her arms for him.

Lukas’ little fingers cling to your neck, unintentionally scratching, and he is grabbing your shirt, red-faced and screaming. You pry him off. Your heart breaks. Your mouth is dry. You swallow your tears as Agathi cradles your son to her chest and rocks him. Her steely blue eyes meet yours—fierce, red-rimmed, and determined. You share a meaningful, wordless look. You’ve always known the role you would play if shit hit the fan. Agathi and Samira are the protectors.

And you?

You’re the fucking executioner.

“Be safe.” James says, squeezing your hand once before you hurry upstairs. The second your foot hits the landing, Samira shuts the door and extinguishes her lamp. In near-darkness, Sven tosses a body armor vest toward you. You clip it hastily, grabbing equipment from the case, and affixing it to your body. You grab a few extra throwing knives and tuck them into the holster on your chest.

Ghosts’ footfalls are quick and deceptively quiet as he comes downstairs, “counted five approaching.”

“There’s likely more with Kaja.” Samira says knowingly, pinning her dark hair away from her face and scowling.

“What’s the plan?” asks Soap.

“Defend the house.” You nod toward the basement door, “this door especially. If there’s any risk of breaching, hit the switch here, and they know to get the fuck out.”

You walk confidently backwards and toward the door, “if I don’t come back—assume I’m dead and don’t come looking for me.”

You spin on your heel and slip through the partially ajar door. You knew the conflict would eventually reach your doorstep, but you wish it hadn’t happened when you had so much to lose inside. Their flashlights cut through reeds of tall grass and flicker like ghosts across the lawn. They’re shouting at each other in Noreth’s native language. You’re not fluent, but you get an idea of the instruction, and you weave through the grass. Your fingers curl around the knife’s grip.  

A low hum of insects buzz around your sweaty face and tall grass whispers as you move through it. You sharpen your focus. The moon illuminates the silent battlefield in a ghastly, blue-white subdued glow. You taste salt on your lips. You cling onto the memory of Simon’s warm, deep eyes. If you died here, or fucked it up, he’d never let you hear the end of it.

You catch your breath in your lungs. You attack, swift and deadly, your knife plunging wetly into your target’s chest. You vanish into the grass, crouched low, and using the light breeze to your advantage. You move with the wind, in bleached moonlight, and you strike down his partner before the others notice. The assailants approaching the front yard were easy. They spread themselves thin, they were too jumpy, and they held their rifles awkwardly. You surmised based on their gait and posture that they were newer—likely fresh recruits.

The three approaching the back entrance wouldn’t be so simple. They move cohesively with experience. You weigh your odds. You can kill one, but the other two will engage with you. If this had been any other mission, you would divert their attention slowly, pick them off using traps and tricks. However, the sands of time are pouring through your fingers, and you’ve got people inside to protect. A man you want to talk to, a child you want to raise, a friend you need to see again.

You test the weight of the throwing knife in your palm. It’s risky. But what choice do you have? These fuckers likely have reinforcements at the barn. Kaja is in danger. You grit your jaw and find the best position among swishing grass and damp, spongy earth.

You wait for the flashlight to illuminate his partner. Your knife spins in the dark, twirling, unseen and the target exclaims a short – “Ah!” as the blade sticks into the meat of his shoulder.

It’s off-mark. You leap to the second target, spry and agile. You are a weapon of death, a herald of doom. Your knife cuts across his throat in brutal efficiency and soaks your wrist in hot blood. You pivot, tucking your arm, and use the target’s body as a meat shield as they fire several rounds at you. You count the bullets.

He spasms and jerks against you as bullets whiz by and you wait for the reload. They might be experienced, but they’re spooked enough to fire all their ammunition simultaneously. You drop the body the second you hear the resounding click of an empty chamber. You draw your silenced pistol. Your last resort. Your breath catches in your lungs.

There’s only one man in front of you. You fire your shot. It goes through your target’s throat. He gurgles wetly, painfully, before falling backward. You scan the area for the threat, the missing attacker, but suddenly something hits you in the back of the skull.

Sharp and biting pain blossoms and stars dance in front of your vision. Their forearm wraps around your throat, pinning you to their chest, the muzzle of their sidearm pistol against your temple. Your time off the field has made you sloppy. Overconfident. Careless. You mentally berate yourself and plant your feet to try and throw him off before he can pull the trigger.

A bullet rings through the darkness. A torrent of hot blood and chunks of bone splatters wetly onto your cheek and side of your head. Your target collapses into you and you roughly shoulder him away. Half of his skull is missing and his brains and blood gushes over the marshland.

You look toward the house. You can’t see Ghost’s sniper scope in the darkness, but you feel it. You feel him watching. You holster your gun. You walk away from the house and toward the barn. To Kaja. To finish your hunt.

~~~~~~~~~

Ghost watches the flashlights disappear from your window. He has every intention of providing cover fire with his sniper—if you need it. He is watching you through the scope, remembering Spain, and his cold heart pangs weakly. He isn’t sure how he feels about you. He wants to be angry for keeping secrets. But, that’s bollocks, isn’t it? You both come from special ops backgrounds, from troves of classified files, and hell—his identity has been a secret for years. You don’t even know what he looks like. The kid’s got my eyes. There’s some small part of him that carries on throughout the world and you’re the only two people who know about it.

He doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to being angry. You made the right call. You kept the kid—Lukas—safe. His kid. Ghost’s throat threatens to tighten. He shoves it down. The feeling smolders inside his chest. It’s not like it matters. You’ll go your separate ways once Soap is cleared to evac. Assuming everyone lives after this evening, he thinks wryly. He adjusts his hold on his sniper and breathes deeply.

A burst of gunfire crackles in the distance. He swings his scope to the swaying reeds. One of the targets have veered off into the darkness while the other fills his dead friend with bullets. He catches brief flashes of your body, hunched, before you duck from beneath cover and stand—your form exquisite and lethal. A muted flash appears before the muzzle of your gun.

The second target appears from the darkness and grapples you. Ghost holds his breath. His finger hovers over the trigger. The pistol touches your skin. He imagines it firing. He imagines your body going inert and dropping like a sack of rocks into the strangers’ arms. His jaw clenches. He has seconds to react. The targets’ face hovers next to yours.

He fires. An explosion of blood and brain and bone spews around your head. You knock the body contemptuously away and somehow manage to meet his eyes through the rifle scope. Ghost’s heart thumps painful and hard into his ribs. You’re half-covered in someone else’s blood like the final girl in a slasher horror film. He thinks of kissing you. You turn and vanish into the darkness. He releases the breath he was holding.

Samira swings into the room, hand clutching the doorframe, “Ghost.” She says, “I need you to go to the barn.” Her tone brokers no argument. Despite that, however, he still says…

“Why?”

“Kaja’s not back yet which means she didn’t escape.”

“How’d you know?”

Samira huffs, “we have a system of triggers and alarms and codes. She hasn’t signaled the all-clear.”

“Could mean she’s dead.”

Her gaze darkens, “they do not often kill women in Noreth. They make them suffer first. Go. An order, Ghost. It’s an order.”

He dislikes taking orders from her, but Samira has your trust, and that means something. And although you claim you don’t have a hierarchy at the haven, it’s clear they look to you for leadership, and Samira is your second.

His head is still fucked from everything. But he’s thankful for the clarity of battle��of conflict and fighting—it gives him something to focus on. He follows the tracks you made through the grass. The air smells like car exhaust fumes, and gun smoke, and dark, damp earth.

“Leave her alone!” Your voice jabs into his gut like a well-placed and serrated knife. Ghost moves silently through the brush. His blood is hot and pounding in his neck.

The glaring headlamps of their truck illuminates your bruised face. Your teeth glisten wet and red. There is more blood covering you, but he can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. Someone has you pinned to the ground, your hands behind your back, and your legs are pinned by a second body. The man in front of you drops to a crouch and speaks lowly. Ghost doesn’t hear what he says. Your gaze hardens and your lips press into a tight line.

Your eyes move past the man speaking to you. Your gaze strikes his through the blades of swaying grass and encroaching, tall weeds. Your eyes are red-rimmed and filled with vengeful tears like the oil-painting of Lucifer.

“Bring them both in!” The man pinches your jaw roughly, his tone scathing, “You will sing like a songbird for me, little viper.”

Your jaw shifts. You spit a bloody glob of salvia into his face.

“Bitch!” He yells. He back-hands you, and you head lolls sideways into the dirt, wheezing, a fresh cut blooms on your lower lip. Rage burns through him, hot and corrosive, across every limb, every nerve, until he’s certain the dry vegetation around him is going to burst into flames. He’s never wanted to tear somebody limb-from-limb before. Not ‘till this moment.

He’s shaking. He realizes it almost distantly, like he’s not inside his body, like he’s viewing everything from a sniper’s scope but he’s without his calculated, cold ease. A voice inside his head informs him of the amount of bullets he has, the target locations, and the cover the barn could provide.

Kaja’s lilting voice appears from somewhere near the back of the truck—her words are thick with phlegm and barely distinguishable—but Ghost can tell she’s begging. He can hear it in her tone, how she sobs around the broken syllables. It’s not you who will break. It’s Kaja. Young, inexperienced Kaja. Another voice inside his head tells him he needs to silence her before she blows his cover or more importantly, your cover and the safety of Lukas. There’s only one target with Kaja and his back is to the shadows. Big mistake.

He shifts into the dark, lush undergrowth. He circles around the barn. You’re still goading the leader. He suspects you’re doing it to keep the focus away from Kaja, to take her pain, because you know she’s fragile and you’re trained to take it. He hears your brusque, insulting tone and it is nearly always followed with the sharp, biting sound of his skin striking yours. His heartrate skyrockets.

He’s shaking again. He bites his lower lip, tasting copper and salt, and it forcefully yanks him back to reality. He creeps through the darkness. He strikes. His large palm covers the target’s mouth, dragging him backward into the shadows, he snaps his neck quickly and efficiently. He drags the body into the grass and approaches the truck bed where Kaja is tied with a black canvas bag over her head.

“Please!” She’s trembling. “We’re just a little farm! We’re not rebels!”

Ghost yanks the bag over her head. She meets his gaze with glossy, frightened eyes. He motions one finger to his mouth. He doesn’t have time to cut the ropes that dig into her bony, bird-like wrists. He grabs her and pulls her from the truck. The weight is shifted and the springs beneath the back tires groan and squeak.

His blood curdles with the abrupt sound of your scream when his boots hit the grass. Every instinct in him wants to—to drop Kaja and fire every bullet into the men that circle you like hungry lions. He resists. If you’re screaming, then it’s part of the act. You wouldn’t give these slimy assholes the satisfaction. He believes that.

He drags Kaja into the darkness.

“We need to go back!” She whispers harshly when they’re several minutes away from the barn, “untie me. We need to save her.”

Ghost says nothing.

<< Part Three (Final) >> 

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

TAG LIST: @k1llerch4n // idk why sometimes it looks like it works and othertimes it DONT.    @iwantmethgivememeth // @levisbebe // @solidly-indulgent​ 

[trashcanfills]

Hear me out okay hear me out

Reader being in a poly relationship with Lucio and Junkrat🥰🥰

Ok first of I shall apologise to you anon because I was heavily procrastinating on this. I mean, I know junkrat and lucio but I didnt fully know how the two would interact, much less in a romantic manner. I legit had to look up boombox fan content for this. It’s a cute ship I must say.

Tbh I previously managed to actually write a good chunk of stuff out for this prompt of the three being poly (at least not the one where the two dudes are “sharing” the reader, nahh everyone gets the lovin) EXCEPT IT DIDNT SAVE WHEN I LAST CAME BACK TO EDIT AND POST IT.

Yea that got me shudhekakdjw fucking crying i swear and I just procrastinated on answering the ask for a bit longer. But im back and god I should actually release it from my inbox.

Here. Fly. Be free now.

Being in a poly relationship with Lucio and Junkrat

First of all, dear god the chaos.

Bruh you have Jamison from the lawless radioactive wasteland that is Australia and Lucio the freedom fighter dj. Being in a poly relationship with this two dudes will never be boring with the amt of shit you get into (which most of the time it’s Jamison’s fault oof)

I can see Lucio and Jamison being rather physically affectionate with you and each other, so I do hope you are someone who doesn’t mind all that. If you do, its ok cus Lucio understands all that personal space jeez, aand will do his best to explain and help Jamison understand cus Jamison is a bit more uhhhhh intrusive lmao

Group cuddle sessions are a thing and participation is made mandatory, the latter being a rule that was first made up to keep Junkrat out of his workshop to tinker stuff, but now it’s used for any time one of you gets too into work or need comfort of some sort.

They both are incredibly energetic and fun people to be with too! Thankfully you and Lucio can contain a bit of Jamison’s manic and destructive energy (and maybe teach him more abt what the rest of the world is like and morals). If you tired of socialising, they will def be chill in just hanging out in the same room, though Jamison needs some explanation and time to understand that first since hes not so people smart.

Fun activities would include gaming, workshop binges (Jamison makes shit while Lucio and you join in or add more dumb whacky ideas), MUSIC LISTENING PARTIES like Lucio is a DJ he wants to show yall all these cool artists and know yall tastes ok

Lucio makes a curated playlist for you amd Jamison. Aaaaand maybe a upcoming new album inspired by the two of you shhhhh its a surprise. And Jamison loves creating new trinkets for you and Lucio! He made a smol metal wire sculpture with a rat, frog and another animal representing you. Its considered a treasured possession that you can Lucio took turns to keep it in your rooms lmao, until Jamison made another one :3

Honestly you three prob got a lot of questioning looks when you all came out as a polyamory couple. Mostly cus of Jamison reputation as a crazed maniac and wanted criminal ngl but when everyone in overwatch sees the three of you hanging out, its really sweet.

I say some issues u guys would have would be first and foremost, Jamison’s questionable morality and lack of understanding of many things. He did kill people yes, but to him it was his way of life from the nuclear wasteland that is his home. It has taken a number of therapy sessions (as required for a reformatory programme Jamison is enrolled in because how else will he be in overwatch bruh), but hey hes getting better i suppose. Be patient with Jamison at times alright? Because he’s still figuring out all these new things and reframing in his worldview.

Another issue for sure would prob be Lucio’s tendency to be stubborn on some things. Haha u didnt think i was gonna say that huh.

To clarify, he’s someone passionate on various causes, and because he is such a nice and caring person pushing to gain support for other’s welfare, Lucio doesn’t fully grasp the consequences of his actions at times. It’s like…he’s naive or a bit simple-minded. Not unintentionally or fully dumb, more like he gets into this helping ppl mindset so much he forgets other things to consider. Like how he faces the Vishkar conflict. It’s a huge sore spot for him, and it’s a big reason why he doesn’t like Symmetra that much because he assumes that she is bad and aware of her corporation’s questionable deeds, which is not completely true. Its also personal for him because it was his hometown that was being affected, and because of that Lucio had to do something to save it. All these feelings mean that Lucio gets blinded by them at times, esp when its got to do sth that he’s passionate abt. Its good to fight for the things you love, but sometimes fighting is not always the solution and can make things worse. And he forgets that sometimes when he rants to u guys abt dealing with some obstinate person doing questionable things.

There will be times he sticks to his moral values and stand by them, without realising that he needs to open his kindness and empathy to those who seem to be the most unworthy of it. In fact, its thanks to being with you and Jamison and over time that Lucio realises this fact.

Holy sheet whew Im done. Yea I did elaborate a lot for Lucio’s issue because I wasn’t too sure how to put it fully into words. So pardon the word vomit lol im not sure if ppl get what I mean so uhh rip. Sorry. You can clarify with me if u wan to ask abt how I characterise Lucio hahaha.

[azucarian]

okay i saw about the big sister getting married but what their big sister getting prego

This is the final part and I think it's a good note to leave off on - but this whole series has been crazy I didn't expect it to blow up HSHDHS big thanks to the anons who requested the big sis au ❤️ All other parts are on the masterlist (down below)

Characters - All of Toman, Izana Kurokawa, Kakuchou Hitto (ft. Haitani Brothers, Wakasa Imaushi)

FEMALE READER

Masterlist

TOMAN BOYS + RAN HAITANI

✰ mikey appropriately calls it mtb (mini toman baby) - because that is the baby’s nickname for the longest mf time until you and ran find out the gender AND what you want to name your baby ✰ ran and rindou disapprove of the name; between the two of them the baby is called little monster (which you kinda prefer, but you just remain neutral and call your baby ‘momma’s little cutie’ to avoid conflict LMAO)

✰ honestly, over time, the boys have gradually grown to like ran and rindou - they respect the two enough, and that actually really like the way ran treats you ✰ they can tell he loves you <33

✰ when the find out your pregnant?? it’s all over - they’re all gonna be uncles and they’re literally so hyped for it ✰ i feel like mitsuya is the happiest tho - for obvious reasons (mana and luna are grown up now and, oddly enough, his life feels a little less dramatic without having to care for them constantly)

✰ ran is very careful during your pregnancy and will physically ban mikey, smiley and baji from visiting the house during your last month - as close as they’re allowed to get is to stand at the bottom of the front yard whilst you sit on the bench out front ✰ all three of them? really grumpy ✰ everyone else? kinda relieved

✰ oddly enough, hakkai does your food runs for you more than anyone else - he will look after you

✰ takemichi also does that thing where someone lifts a pregnant womans belly to relieve the stress on their back?? draken nearly beat him up when he saw bc he got scared, you had to explain it was fine and it actually helped ✰ expect draken to do it now, as well

✰ mitsuya sews all of your pregnancy clothes and puts corny phrases on the front - “bun in the oven” “move, i’m pregnant and a bad bitch” “help i can’t reach the top shelf” “hangry momma” ✰ literally makes your week whenever he presents you with a new gown or t-shirt <33

✰ souya and nahoya? absolutely overjoyed when they find out you’re having twins, boys, especially when you say that you want those two to come up with some cute matching names ✰ the list is long but omg the names are all so cute - you and ran have a lot of picking to do

✰ chifuyu and kazutora induce what i like to call “animal therapy” where they bring small puppies and kittens to your house so you don’t feel isolated bc you’re always at home

✰ never seen baji hiss but the moment some man gets too close to you when he’s helping you with picking out baby clothes for your baby twin boys (literally said “oh, you look like the type to be a single mother - you’d be lucky to have me” like mf stfu you idiot) ✰ baji kicked his ass, and you call him your little protector (he’s so happy like?? makes his whole year ngl)

✰ the girls (emma, yuzuha and hinata) all plan the baby shower

✰ so everyone, and i mean everyone, collectively agreed that rindou was gonna be the babies godfather - and he nearly cried, bc he literally thought either draken or mikey were gonna get it?? </3 ✰ GIVE HIM PREGNANT MOMMA HUGS

✰ okay but honestly, at the end of the day - they’re both scared of you, and for you; you get really cranky and their crazy shenanigans really proves that to be worse than they initially thought it’d be, but you’re also really soft and get upset so quickly due to your hormones being all over the show

✰ when the babies are born, you can expect absolute protection - with toman’s big sister and one of roppongi’s monsters as parents, that’s a given, but these little babies also have insane uncles

✰ mikey is probably the best with children because he acts like one himself sometimes - your twins (appropriately named rintarou - kinda a spin from rindou, it was ran’s idea - and rura)

✰ they have a favourite uncle - funnily enough rura finds himself gravitating towards uncle rindou, and rintarou prefers the ever-loving takemichi (and, in turn, baji and chifuyu)

✰ lots of family gatherings - and very adorably crazy birthdays <33 ✰ the neighbourhood call you the “odd ball family”

IZANA KUROKAWA, KAKUCHOU HITTO + WAKASA IMAUSHI

✰ wakasa had to leave the house for the first 3 weeks of your announced pregnancy because izana chased him with a knife- i’m not kidding ✰ “you defiled my big sister, you monster!” ✰ mm, protective baby brothers vibes

✰ kakuchou lowkey gets bitter at the idea of you having kids because he won’t be the “baby of the family” anymore

✰ but the two of them?? so very helpful and loving

✰ izana goes out at 3am to collect things you need to make the experience as comfortable as possible - your pregnancy cravings, heat packs, etc. ✰ eventually lets wakasa back into the house bc you cry about not having your husband with you >:( he’s not happy about it tho

✰ kakuchou makes it his mission to spend every waking moment with you - he cooks for you, offers to do basic household chores you’re perfectly capable of doing yourself, and even runs you soothing bubble baths

✰ i literally can’t even express how they give me “guard dog” vibes - like, you’ll just go to the supermarket or the store down the street and they’ll size up any mf who looks twice at you ✰ they know you’re a little insecure at the growing weight (but you’re carrying a second person in your belly, it’s normal), and even more-so at your newly appearing stretch marks

✰ you recall that one time a bunch of middle schoolers thought it’d be okay to insult you, a heavily pregnant, hormonal mess - you started crying, and those middle schoolers spent a few weeks in hospital ✰ good job ‘zana <3

✰ okay wakasa?? best baby daddy - best husband e v e r ✰ works his ass off to provide anything you need; literally has a “baby fund” and “(name) fund” and puts a lot of money in each after his paycheck

✰ takes you to the hot springs once a month to relieve any stress on your body ✰ also learns how to massage you - gives you foot massages (he hates feet, lowkey gags and it makes you laugh so much) ✰ one time when he gagged and you laughed, you felt your baby kick for the first time - he might have teared up but says “no, it’s because your feet stink” <//3

✰ you guys find out it’s a baby girl and,, izana just grins so brightly, kakuchou cheers and wakasa just smiles ✰ this little princess? protected <3

✰ izana, kakuchou and wakasa paint the nursery together as a bonding experience and they actually grow a lot closer ✰ wakasa and izana talk with each other and it ends with a hug - they’re both really happy with this outcome

✰ wakasa has made it adament that he’s not kicking izana and kakuchou out of your guys’ house - they’re family, and they can stay however long they like >:( ✰ the previously orphaned kids have never felt so thankful - because, once again, a reliable adult figure in their life isn’t abandoning them :((

✰ and, now, welcome baby amane into the world

✰ after your pregnancy, you do a lot of hibernating (it’s really relaxing because of the weight you were carrying, and now you’re not) ✰ izana?? absolutely smitten, calls her his little teddybear ✰ wakasa actually actively asks izana and kakuchou to babysit amane and offers to pay them - they reject the offer every single time ✰ “use that money to get amane-chan a new teddybear” <33333333

✰ the whole street love your dysfunctional little family ✰ tbh, it’s like you and wakasa have three kids instead of just 1 LMAO

[cherienymphe]

Don’t be shy do the Drabble I hate the guy already LMAO 😭 i mean I love him but also hate him, really curious! But of course no pressure! Just curious what kinda girlfriends did he have before? Are they similar to the kind Steve likes to date like someone who takes charge like Peggy and as Reader is a sweet girl. An easy target,” which is what he previously told the reader - 💙 (blue heart anon)

Bucky had girlfriends that were on the sweeter side yes but were still assertive and independent in their life. It was giving winx club (I'm sorry y'all that's the best comparison that came to mind 😭) and be careful what you wish for

You blinked back tears as you continued to scrub at your bear, face heating up even more with every failed attempt. You had never cried in front of Bucky before, but you were terrified that today would be the day when you finally would.

"You did that on purpose, you ass."

You wanted to tell Rebecca that she shouldn't say words like that, but you couldn't even find it in yourself to care, right now. Bucky was an ass.

"I actually didn't," the older boy drawled. "Even if I did, who gives a shit?"

"Bucky," Rebecca hissed, and you could feel her eyes on you from the kitchen.

Your legs were crossed as you sat on the floor, eyes focused on your bear, surrounded by every cleaning liquid known to man. It just wouldn't come out!

"That's her favorite one!"

"They all look the same to me," he snorted. "Stupid and creepy as fuck."

You dropped the bear, giving up. Your eyes were glued to the floor as their voices reached you.

"Why do you always have to treat her like that? She's never done anything to you-."

"She's fucking weird, okay? Anybody your age who still walks around with stuffed animals and dolls and sucks their thumb needs fucking therapy! If you walked around like that, I'd have to tell my friends you're underdeveloped or something."

Bucky's words made your chest ache, and you felt a few tears escape.

"You're so mean," you heard Rebecca sneer after a while.

"Yeah, well, someone has to be honest around here. You and mom and dad just like to pretend like that shit is normal, and it's not."

You heard his chair scrape as he no doubt stood up.

"She's a God damn freak."

You kept your eyes on the floor as he left the kitchen, ignoring the sting of his gaze as he made his way up the stairs. His words left you feeling cold, and you sniffled, wondering if you could convince your mom to buy you a new one. But then you wondered if there was even a point. Bucky would probably just ruin that one too.

[angy-mouse]

Dude I wanna know how the dteam from 'live in whore' would react if reader was the type to bring animals home. I love animals and until we moved where there were rarely any strays I was bringing home all kinds of animals every week lmao my house was an unlicensed animal shelter basically. I just wanna know how they'd react to random dogs and cats appearing.

:0000 maybe that's how you can bring in patches?!

-cryptid

in my head patches has always been there, but one of the rules of the house is that pets get locked out during sex (might write a blurb about why that rule got put in place but idk) but this is cute thats part of my dream house sketch for therapy is that all the local strays come for food and scratches

“Luv?”

You made sure to give him your cutest smile. “Hi, Daddy,”

George raised an eyebrow, knowing damn well that was your ‘I bet I can flirt my way out of this’ daddy and not your ‘I’m little’ daddy. “Whatcha got there?”

You cradled the cat to your chest with a pout. “She came up to me in the garden! I gave her some food and she ate it right out of my hand! Isn’t she cute?”

“She’s very cute, baby,” he agreed. “She also doesn’t live here.”

You tried your best to look as adorable as scientifically possible. “But it’s so cold outside and it started raining-”

“That’s why we built that cute little pet hut back there,” he teased, crouching down next to you on the floor and petting the cat’s head. “Did you name her?”

“Sardine,” you giggled, watching his resolve crumble just like it always did. “Can she stay? Just until the rain stops?”

You both knew that in England it could be days before that happened but he nodded anyway. “I'll go tell Dream to bring Patches down so they can play.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, giving him a peck on the lips. “...Darwin, too?”

He laughed at that, looking out the window that led to the back garden. “Darwin’s back? I told you he didn’t get hit by a bus- that little bastard’s gonna outlive us all. Alright, let him in but if he scratches Sap again he’s getting thrown out… again.”