#they made him illegal to settle their own fears

[deepspacetits]

Of all the heartbreak contained within “Doctor Bashir, I presume?” I think this is the most heartbreaking thing to me:

- “You don't know. You've never had a child. You don't know what it's like to watch your son. To watch him fall a little further behind every day. You know he's trying, but something's holding him back. You don't know what it's like to stay up every night worrying that maybe it's your fault. Maybe you did something wrong during the pregnancy, maybe you weren't careful enough, or maybe there's something wrong with you. Maybe you passed on a genetic defect without even knowing it.”

Because, while it may be true they weren’t ashamed of young Jules, it still stands that the genetic resequencing was about them. About Amsha and Richard, and not about Julian. They made him illegal, and they say it’s Julian’s own good, but even here, it becomes about them and their feelings. It’s not about doing the right thing for Julian, it’s about setting their minds at ease. It’s about fixing something they believe is wrong with him.

Not even when they’re trying to say they did this for Julian, is it about Julian.

[oceantornadoo]

put me to bed (simon riley x f!reader)

part 6 of the two lieutenants series (can be read standalone)

—

“siii.” you knocked again. “simon, it’s meee.”

the door swung open and you almost stumbled through, the alcohol in your veins refusing to keep you upright. however, your reflexes won the fight for balance, right hand shooting out to grab at the door frame. you were face to face with simon’s pajamas, a relaxed t-shirt and sweats you’d never seen him in. it felt almost illegal, like this sight was meant for someone else. like you stole it.

“‘case you haven’t noticed, ‘s 2am.” his voice was low and gravel-filled. “i know, si. not even close to your bedtime yet.” the aching truth of your point, that he never sleeps before 3am, was softened by your drunk hiccup. you finally took the effort to raise your head, eyes locking onto his. he didn’t have his mask on, a sight you usually treasured sober, but now, it made drunk you mad. real mad.

“whatever, fuck this. jus’ wanted to say goodnight since you didn’t want to come out with us. with me.” you turned with a vengeance, stumbling in your going-out shoes as you made for your own room across base. before you could get too far, simon grabbed your arm, tugging you into his intoxicating presence. “had some paperwork to finish, dove. don’t get your panties in a twist.” you gasped. "i didn’t realize british people actually said shit like that. and", you punctuated this with a finger to his chest, “don’t think about my panties, riley. those words don’t exist to you.” he didn’t respond. typical man.

a few seconds later, he showed you why. he swooped you up bridal style with the gall of a military man who had to practice rescuing teammates in gear twice your size. he even caught your purse as it dropped to the floor, thick fingers wrapping around cheap leather as he settled all of you into place. “cheeky fucker.” he murmured under his breath, more to himself than to you. simon turned and locked his door, then strode down the hall like this was normal, everyday behavior. the swaying motion mixed with the drinks in your stomach and you gripped his shirt in fear that you’d throw up on. simon didn’t seem to care, prioritizing speed as he searched for your room. after a few minutes of charged silence, and prayers for a calm stomach on your end, he set you down with the gentleness of a man taking in a stray. all light touches, coaxing your keys out of your purse while keeping you upright as you swayed against him. simon opened the door and ushered you in with restrained arrogance, like he could tell you what to do.

“bed, dove.” instead of walking over to your bed, you gripped his bicep and held him in place. “no shoes. germs.” he chuckled, fingers ghosting over your cheek as he rubbed at your smeared makeup. “go’on.” you squeezed his arm as you bent down to take your shoes off. his hand found your lower back to balance you, but he was content to watch you struggle with your strappy heels. call it retribution for disturbing his night.

“can’t get ‘em off, pretty girl?” you shook your head, then remembered he couldn’t see you in the darkness of your room. “no…” he maneuvered you to your bed, ignoring your protests, and plopped you down, hands firm on your waist. “no light, si.” turning on the light would ruin this peaceful silence, would bring reality back into the mix. you weren’t ready for that, content to stay in this cloud nine as you sobered up and let simon take care of you. he answered you by taking off your shoes, one by one. simon was trying to treasure your sudden docileness, fumbling with your shoes as he thought of his next excuse to stay longer. maybe help you take your makeup off? he assumed you’d want to with that deliriously endearing mess of lipstick on your face. the image of you kissing someone at the bar arose unbidden in his mind, and he squashed it with a glare. unfortunately, that was when your hands had decided to explore his face in the dark, fingers tracing the lines of his anger. “i’m sorry. you’re angry. i just thought- but ‘sokay, i can do the rest. thanks for your help, l.t.” he jerked his head up at the nickname, a sudden nod to the context of your relationship, the two lieutenants of the 141. it felt dirty here, to put a light on all the reasons why this couldn’t happen.

“‘s not you, ‘s the shoes. bloody death traps.” he had finally finished the second one, slipping it off neatly so it wouldn’t dirty your floor. “what’s next?” you hummed in thought. “shower. no outside clothes in bed!” you ended with a cheer. simon wondered how you showered drunk all those times before him, then quickly regretted imagining you naked and wet. “come on.” he walked you two to your en-suite shower (perks of being a lieutenant, not that you were on base enough to take advantage of it). regrettably, he turned on the bathroom light, trying to ignore how your body scrunched up. “need my makeup remover.” you pointed to a blue container and he grabbed it. “i can do it-“ he genuinely shushed you with a finger to the lips, shaking his head. “show me.” he nodded to the unscrewed container. you took his fingers in your hand, dipping them into the oily balm. you moved them to your face, dragging them across your skin ungracefully. “then you kinda massage it in. make sure you get everywhere, can’t mess up my routine.” his lips quirked up at your sass. some things never changed.

simon moved his fingers around your face, rubbing off layers of foundation, setting powder, and everything in between. his free hand settled at your waist, keeping you steady under his touch. he took a pointer finger to your lips, dragging his callouses over your soft skin, memorizing the feel of it. he took care with your lashes, gently closing your eyes before rubbing off your mascara. he made sure to go up to your hairline, like he’d seen in the movies. simon riley didn’t know how to be gentle, but he’d try for you.

“now what?” the question moved through the still air as if breaking a trance. you almost flinched at the intrusion, having practically fallen asleep standing in his arms. “shower.” you croaked out, all soft and sweet. “can you unzip me?” he nodded even though your eyes remained closed, his hand on your waist turning you around until your stomach kissed the bathroom counter. using his clean hand, simon traced the bare skin above your dress before settling on the zipper. he brought himself closer, pelvis kissing your backside as he tried to control his body’s reaction. unfortunately, you noticed. he was starting to hate how visible he was to you, ghost gone to the wind.

“simon.” you rewarded him with a throaty moan, dropping your elbows on the counter as you pushed your ass into him. “please, please si.” he continued to drag the zipper down like he counted hear you, revealing each torturous inch of skin. “be good.” he growled, your spine straightening at the command. “lieutenant.” you were mewling under him, the dregs of alcohol making you all pliant. he didn’t want you like that for your first time together, putty in his hands. he wanted your bark and bite, which wouldn’t happen tonight. it didn't matter. ghost was a very patient man. “done.” you dropped your arms and the dress dropped with them, revealing your lack of bra and lace panties. here he was again, thinking of your panties. your eyes were still closed under the weight of the oil on your skin, giving him an unabashed view of your breasts in the mirror. perfect.

simon wiped his makeup-stained hand on his shirt, not caring about the marks it would leave. his thumbs met either side of your waist, digging into your skin and under your panties, pulling them down easily. you were wet between your thighs, proof staining your underwear. he sucked in a harsh breath at the evidence of your need, evidence it wasn’t all in his head. instead of pressing his nose to the source of your arousal, he left your side to turn on your shower. water running, he stepped back and put a guiding hand on your waist. “go’on.” you followed meekly, muscle memory taking over as you stepped into the shower. you tilted your head to the spray of water, clearing off your face. he chose to not close the shower curtain, opting to watch you clear the mess and open your eyes with a grin. “shower with me.” he shook his head, holding back a grimace as he watched the smile die on your face. "no, baby." always ruining things, like his fucking father. "then why are you here?" he shook his head again, regretting that the shower had sobered you up. regretting how he still hadn't closed the shower curtain, letting water spray on the floor as he drank in your body. regretting his clear lack of self-control when it came to you. "you know why." he closed the shower curtain and left.

he didn't actually leave. he was too weak for that. instead, he searched through your drawers, finding those shorts you always wore paired with his shirt you stole months ago and never gave back. it smelled like you now, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. the shower shut off, sounds of you brushing your teeth and putting on lotion floating through the air. he turned on your lamp and set out a glass of water, suddenly feeling awkward in your space. simon turned and there you were, water dripping on the floor, towel gripped loosely.

"i thought you left." he shook his head, forcing himself to gesture to the clothes he set out. instead of thanking him, you dropped your towel on the floor. simon hissed, sucking in the sight of your moisturized skin, the scent of it calming him. you, mostly sober now, trotted over to the clothes, putting them on nonchalantly. "if you won't fuck me, you can leave. i'm sorry for waking you up." lie. you both knew he was already awake when you knocked. simon had been texting soap for updates all through the night, knowing you were on your way back before you knocked. "c'mon." he ignored you completely, instead pulling at your covers to get you in bed. you rolled your eyes but followed his command, brushing past him as you got in bed. "g'night, dove." he turned off the lamp solemnly, no reflection of emotion on his face. "simon." he paused, holding his breath. "stay." you could hear him thinking in the dark. "not gonna fuck you. not tonight. it's more t' me than that." you smiled. "i know. stay."

--

i try not to write anything body size specific but i headcanon that simon riley is #thick in all the ways that matter and can lift anyone (even if you identify as a fat person or a tall person or anything in between) if he tries hard enough. i hope that sentence didn't take you out of the reading experience!!!

also i have no idea how military bases are laid out so ignore that

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

Peter is yelling, hands cupped at his mouth.

Howie is on his feet, cheering.

Clint’s on the ring edge, calling out tips.

Steve’s staring down the opponent’s boyfriend.

Bucky watches her dodge right, hands up protecting her face. Her knee comes up, connecting with the girl’s side. She stoops, her first mistake. Y/N grabs the back of her head, her toes barely touching the ring mat, before her knee comes back up faster this time. Y/N slams the girl’s head down, meeting her knee. Shoving the girl back, into the ropes, when she stumbles from the knee to the face, Y/N winds up, throwing an absolute ruthless right hook to the jaw.

Her head snaps back, blood spraying, her body goes limp, hitting the mat with a thump.

The Ditch goes nuts, screaming from all sides. Cheering, celebrating, talking shit.

TC dips under the ropes, grabbing Y/N’s hand, holding it up, cheering just as loud.

When the Stark’s meet eyes. Howie and Peter are on their feet. Y/N bounces on her toes, all three at the same time, flex inward, with a loud “AHHHHH!” at one another.

“That’s our girl!” Becca is on her feet, screaming for her best friend.

He grins when his girl locks eyes with him. She grins, rolling her eyes at him.

They still went to The Ditch, sometimes TC worked the decks there. Mainly when Y/N wanted to beat on bitches for kicks. She was getting Becca into it now. Only Y/N’s now fighting top fighters from other areas, coming to see what she’s made of.

Sure she might be taking over the table, running her own mafia, and be the most feared thing in Saints high school, but she’s still the girl that needs a good fight to feel calm. Compromises were made between him and her when they started settling into life together. Like her training with Frankie and TC, after the battle for her, she never wants to be underprepared for another fight. He couldn’t blame her, encouraged her.

The memory of her in the hospital, damaged and broken, burned into his mind for life.

A tight feeling appeared in his chest, worrying about his baby sister taking over.

“Boss man?” She’s next to him, Clint cutting the tape off her hands. Steve, cleaning up the few cuts on her.

“The right hook, baby girl.” He shakes his head, smirking at her. “I’d say it’s blessed by Satan.” He chuckles, leaning into kiss her.

“But I am Satan.” She laughs against him, kissing him again.

“Don’t we know it.” Clint snorts.

“Unlikely to ever forget it.” Steve shakes his head.

“And if you do, I’ll remind you.” She sasses, like a snotty teenager.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” The two mutter at the same time, laughing.

“Ah.” Steve pauses.

“What?” He asks.

Steve scratches the back of his head. “Is that new or old?” He cut his eyes to her thigh and back away.

Fingerprints, on the outside of her thigh, a thumb print on the inside of her thighs.

“Old.” She grins in Steve’s face.

“Scarred for life.” Becca whines, walking away.

Clint looks down and back to her. “That’s hot.” He grins.

“Fuck yeah.” She laughs, they high five.

“Alright, enough of that.” He pushes Clint away, making him laugh.

-----

The house party loud and packed. The typical Friday night high school parties for them. He sat on the couch talking with the guys. “What’s the policy for fighting here?” Howie laughs, sipping from his beer bottle.

“Don’t. Why?” Steve smirks.

“Cause if Smalls sees that girl eye fucking Bucky, that policy won’t matter to her.” Peter laughs.

“Does any rule?” Bucky sighs.

They all laugh.

“Boss man.” She saunters up to them. Dark cut off shorts, a cut short red T-shirt, with a black sports bra underneath. Her ball cap turned backwards, dark hair in messy waves.

“Doll?” He smirks up at her when she comes to stop the side of the couch, he’s on.

She leans down, black fingernails tip his chin up towards her. Her eyes cut to the side and instead of kissing him as he thought. She licks him, from his jaw to his eyebrow. Staring down the girl watching him. She looks startled before she bumps into someone trying to get away.

“Much better.” She smiles pretty walking away.

Peter’s brow yanks down. Howie looks confused. Steve and Clint are unbothered.

“Did our baby sister,” Howie blinks.

“Lick you?” Peter’s eyelids flutter quickly.

“Yup.” Clint and Steve reply, throwing back shorts.

“What in the fuck?” Peter laughs.

“Not new.” Clint shakes his head, downing his beer.

TC is moving towards them, a look of worry on his face.

“What?” He puts his cup down.

“Pretty sure Eddie is across the street.” He jerks his thumb backwards.

They exchange a look between the five of them before jumping up and hurrying out of the house.

Indeed, on the other side of the road, sits Eddie parked, leaning against his car. He smirks at them, as they come to stand on the walkway of the house.

“Gwen get in the house.” Y/N’s voice hits his ears.

“Y/N.” Gwen sounds nervous.

“Wanda stay here.” Y/N orders, he can hear her coming up behind them. She cuts around him, walking down the path, they follow her. She stops on the edge of the curb.

Eddie flicks his eyes from her to Becca, standing next to her.

“Try it.” Y/N warns him.

Eddie smirks, cutting his eyes back to Y/N. They stare back at one another.

She stares him down, Buck looks from Eddie to Y/N, something dark and dangerous in her brown eyes.

It’s Eddie who blinks first, looking away. Suddenly he gets back into his car, leaving.

She turns on them, staring at each of them for a moment.

“Something you boys need to tell me?” Her brow lifts, Becca looks tense next to her.

“We don’t know what that was about.” He assures her.

She nods slowly. Cutting between them heading back towards her girls at the door. The six of them exchange a look, heading for her. She pauses, taking the cup from Gwen, she turns to them standing above them on the front stoop.

“You better swear on whatever god you believe in, Boss man; you didn’t lie to me.” She repeats the saying from the beginning, when they first started out and Ben Rielly and Sina were causing issues for them. The ice cold look in her eyes, makes his steps stop suddenly.

“I’ll make your life hell, James Barnes, you think before was rough, you haven’t seen shit yet.” She warns him. Turning, she steps into the house between her friends, walking away.

Fear creeps into his chest.

He swallows hard.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @irepeldirt @joannie95 @nunu2888 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @destiel-artemis @hookslove1592 @CallSign-Vesta @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @wonderswrittings @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[c4mrynp]

"What are we doing, again?"

"Learning about the Unforgivable Curses," Evans says, "Do you not listen to anything the teachers say?"

"I try not to," Sirius shrugs.

"Well, come on," James takes Sirius by the shoulder, "Let's not be late."

They arrive at the classroom, somehow not being the last ones there. Sirius looks around the room and frowns.

"Why do we have to be with the Slytherins?"

"Because," Evans sighs, "that's how they've organised it. We can't change that."

"But-"

Sirius is cut off by the Professor. "Alright, class. Settle down and find the table with your name on it."

"We have assigned seats?" Sirius groans.

"I'm sure we'll be next to each other," James assures.

They weren't. In fact, the Professor made sure they were on opposite sides of the classroom.

Sirius walks over to his desk, and looks at the name of the person meant to be next to him.

"Hey, Professor!" He yells, "Can I switch tables?"

"No, Mr Black, I'm afraid not," the Professor groans.

Sirius doesn't even know the Professor, why is he so annoyed with him?

Sirius groans, but holds out hope. No one's sat next to him yet.

That hope instantly dies, however, when the door opens to reveal Barty Crouch and Regulus Black, coming in late.

"Mr Crouch, Mr Black, may I ask why you're only just arriving?" The Professor asks.

"Sorry, sir," Crouch smiles, "just got a bit lost."

Regulus elbows Crouch discretely, muttering something to him.

"Whatever you say," the Professor says, unbelieving, "please, find your seats."

Crouch, who is seated next to Mary, looks over at Regulus, smiling apologetically.

Regulus just rolls his eyes and goes to find his seat. He stops short when he does.

"Professor?"

"Enough. No one is switching seats," he says, already predicting what Regulus was going to ask, "Now, let the lesson begin."

Regulus and Sirius both sit very stiffly next to each other, trying and failing to ignore the other's presence.

"And lastly, the Cruciatus Curse," the Professor announces, having discussed the Killing and the Imperius Curse.

"Huh?" Sirius murmurs, "I thought we were discussing Unforgiveables."

Regulus just stares ahead, brow furrowed.

"The Cruciatus Curse, also known as the Torture Curse, is only used by the most vile Dark Wizards, wishing to cause their victims immense pain. It is of the most Unforgiveable actions of a wizard, and whoever uses this curse will be sent straight to Azkaban."

"Sorry, sir," Sirius puts his hand up, "I'm confused. I thought Cruciatus was like... for punishment or whatever? How is it Unforgiveable?"

"No, Mr Black, this curse is highly illegal, as it would cause, whoever is on the receiving end, life-long mental and physical trauma."

"That's not true," Regulus speaks up, seemingly without meaning to. "I mean," he says, more shyly now that everyone's eyes are on him, "it would be painful but not... not that bad, right?"

For a while, there is silence, making Sirius's skin crawl. He turns to his brother, hoping this is all one big joke.

Regulus looks back at him, just as confused, as the Professor speaks once more.

"I'm not sure where you've heard these false rumours, but please know that whoever is telling you these things are lying."

"No..." Regulus protests under his breath, his face going slack.

Sirius, equally confused, just puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, hiding his face as he tries to blink away his tears.

If their parents are willing to break the law to use an Unforgiveable Curse on their own children, then there really is no hope that they might love them, is there?

Its that realisation that makes Sirius stand, abruptly, and leave, to hide the evidence of his fears. And for once, Regulus follows, not to fight, but for comfort.

[thewriterowl]

I love you fics so so much. You're appreciated a lot, and we understand that you have a life and needs a break.

Take your time, your health and life is more important.

So only if you want, I would love Modern setting Mafia Din, obvious luke. I unfortunately can't find a lot of fics like this.

Thank youuuuu and have a good day

omg thank you!! This really is appreciated. Truly, it means a lot that you took time to say that. It always helps me keep working on these updates! But I also appreciate the reminder for the break; I am very bad at that lol

Modern Setting Mafia Dinluke AU

So, I have made Luke a baker (still one of my favorites) and a librarian for this AU but maybe he can be something else. Maybe a really good mechanic who does a lot of work on cars but really shines with motorcycles. He wants his own but he's currently working in a garage maybe run by Djarin's clan but it is low on the chain and has become corrupt as Pong Krell is the manager of it and is not paying Luke well (so he needs a beat up car to maybe sleep in in the future) and pocketing a lot--basically stealing from Din (not good). Krell is very arrogant and thinks he is taking enough to not cause ripples to carry up to the head of the whole clan but he is very, very wrong.

Din runs things tightly and with intense respect and fear. They do quite a bit of illegal happenings but they are a bit more anti-hero/vigilante types.

The family runs escort houses but they are actually very healthy (a little capitalistic but nothing is perfect) and no one is forced to work there. Whoever is can stop at any time and they have great health care and housing. Not to mention incredibly protected and treated with a lot of respect. Even the strip clubs are more are less legitimate and probably the cleanest and best one can find (Lando runs a BDSM house under Din). They actually take down a lot of trafficking through their work with this. He has daycares that's basically free for all who work with him. Drugs are tricky but they mostly ensure nothing tainted passes by as there is not much they can do about stopping it but you better not have anything hard around his territory. He's a "family" business, after all.

He gets his money through a lot of laundering, the escort houses, hacking, blue collar crimes where they rob the billionaires/millionaires, underground fight rings...and, ahem, a few...hits here and there. But they're very selective over who they take out.

Of course, that doesn't mean he isn't dangerous. He and his family chooses to do things through a nicer lens but he had to bury a lot of bodies to get to where he was so that whoever takes over from him wouldn't have to get their hands nearly as dirty. He will do cruel, cold, selfish things if it means he can protect those he cares about. And he won't let some greedy slug try to take more than what he's earned and cause a dent in the network he's created.

He goes when Krell isn't around, bringing in his motorcycle, maybe not removing his helmet to be safe, and Luke is on him instantly. The blond is so EXCITED to see this model and has to chat Din up about it, offering to get it all fixed for him if he wants, he'll put it back together quickly.

Din is very charmed and let's Luke have all the fun he could want as he sneaks into the office and gets all the evidence needed (the little one was very oblivious; that's no good for his own safety) and decides to just chat with this puppy.

Din and Luke probably separate a little smitten at the end.

Luke really has no idea what he's done until the next time Din comes, with his men, dressed in a (sexy as sin) suit and gets Luke in one of the super expensive, sound-proof cars as he...settles things with Krell.

Din can't spend too much time making Krell understand his mistakes.

He has a reservation after where he'll talk to Luke over some nice Italian about him moving in.

[bananaactivity]

I finally finished good old Harry Hook, Now he’s Harry Killian Hook after his dad.

The reason I designed his father first was mostly so I could make them look similar. I suppose I still could have done that with Harry first but shut up I do what I want.

You’ll take notice that Harry looks WILDLY different from his usual self. His nose is slightly hooked and he has curly hair with an eyebrow slit like his father. He also has his dads random ass moles sunken eyes with long lower lashes and a little stubble. He has cuts on his face from training crocodiles. There are some way worse ones when he’s shirtless (he loves it tho, mans is a glutton for pain and suffering even his own💀🙏) I’m gonna withhold what he trained them for at this point in time💀💀💀. I also wanted him to look a little less goofy, he’s a pretty destructive dude and OG Harry is too Camp for me to see his exact likeness doing all I plan for him to do.

He and his dad look very similar which adds another reasoning for people fearing him. His fit is also very different from his usual punk leather, capri pants for some reason??? And absolutely disgusting white hoody shirt thing with fingerless leather hand things.

This is because Carlos refuses to style him any other way 💀. As a part of my au Carlos is now a fashion designer like his mother. His mother used to style Killian before he left for Neverland and in this Au Carlos loves and is obsessed with his mom 💀. So from a young age he’s always told Harry he’d be his stylist in the future when Harry was in power. Harry pays Carlos well and they are actually friends. ( Mal hates how close they are because she believes Harry could use Carlos to take over her turf, and Jay is jealous because Harry is HIS arch enemy or something, he doesn’t know what his problem is)

This Harry is a really rough person to handle, there are a lot of gangs on the isle but there is a separation. The sea gangs and the land gangs rarely get into it and mostly scuffle within each other. Mal and the rest of the core four rule over the most expansive land gang and Harry takes over his father’s old turf and expands it rather quickly. His dad’s gig was illegally giving transport to Auradonians who want a night of fun on the isle, it’s very profitable. He actually mirrors his father a lot, Killian would take down entire ships all alone so that his crew would know that mutiny would lead to so much destruction that there would barely be a crew to lead. Harry follows suit but received so much letal training from so many different people ,as his dad let him come on every trip he took to pick up his “imports”, that he’s much deadlier then his father.

Mal in my au is more like the dark fae/ Demi god that she was implied to be and is therefore heavily reliant on her powers. Harry scares her a little as she can’t understand how someone seemingly so powerless could strike so much fear. Carlos tries to tell her that Harry doesn’t gaf about physical land and his passion is the vast expanse of the sea but she becomes paranoid and shit happens 💀💀💀. Here’s a little scene of that real quick:

Carlos was exasperated. Harry was particularly interested in leathers and tight pants now and it was just awful. The poor dear had no clue it made him look like a disfigured hooligan. Not that Carlos was adverse to furs of course, Harry had given him so many exotic samples over the years… BUT GOD DAMMIT. The way Hook intertwined the two styles made him want to chuck up his lunch. He headed towards his room hoping to settle into a peaceful use of the remainder of the night, testing out some of the fabric and fur samples the Captain had gifted him. Mal made it quite clear it wouldn’t be so easy for him. “We need to talk Carlos.” He knew of only one topic that made her face contort that way. Better to feign ignorance, Mal didn’t like for him to be more clever than her typically . “ What of Darling… and do make it snappy, I’m so dead tired… I’ve been with my dearest client all day. Bless his heart he’s just so very awful with dressing him self the poor dear.” With a huff of her nose she began her rambling. “ About that, “dear client” of yours Carlos, Harry?. You need to stop seeing him.” “ HA!” Carlos couldn’t believe she was back on this tryst of hers with full force so soon, normally she would back off this hard for at least a month or two. “ Surley darling you must mean another dear client! Why Mal I almost believed you meant HARRY HOOK. My closest and most oldest clientele, my dear friend, my most generous patron! No, No darling you just can’t mean Captain Harry Hook, it’d almost sound as tho you meant to take away my most profitable source of revenue and resources~.” Mal was shifting on her feet, sometimes Carlos longed for others to see how vulnerable this king pin was, how nervous and unsure… but then he’d have no where to go and he refused to travel the seas with Harry on the daily day to day. He was much too expensive to upkeep and he wasn’t sure if Harry could stop his crew from murdering him eventually. “ You rely too much on hi-“ “RELY” Carlos scoffed, “ I said Harry was my MOST profitable, NOT my ONLY, anyone would be a fool to drop him as a client.” Mal was glowing with her “anger” now it wasn’t very frightening anymore. “ HES USING YOU TO GET TO ME AND ALL IVE WORKED FOR. Don’t you remember Jake? IZZY?? CHUBBS???? He’s cold and heartless. He’ll take over my turf… and then the whole Isle of the Lost! He’s a danger to our existence and YOU are always consorting with him!! Has he brainwashed you!! What have you told him about us?! HE COULD DESTROY US AT ANY MOMENT!!!” Carlos was exhausted, Mal was falling further into the pit of anxiety that comes with power. Harry avoided that pit rather admirably in Carlos’s eyes. He was so sure of what he wanted as far as power goes and Carlos just PRAYED that Mal would understand that. “ Mal… Harry is a PIRATE he doesn’t care about you beyond you leaving the Shrimp alone and never invading him. Something I disadvise HEAVILY for you to do. He WILL wipe you out if you don’t get ahold of yourself and THINK critically for once!” He breathed out once to calm himself before continuing. “ Mal- Darling, you’ve had me run the analytics of many a situation… I have personal experience with Harry and his behaviors and desires. He is a… very calculating pirate. The Sand Weaver incident occurred at a very strenuous time in Hooks life, he was VERY intentional during that time. All that he wanted ,truly, was planned for over those four years. Harry loves the sea, if he wanted to he would have infiltrated Villanend back then. He didn’t.” He could see the cracks in Mals resolve. It was looking as though he could get to those fabrics after all. “ I don’t like that he has such easy access to a member of my crew- my family…” This development was new to the norm of these conversations with Mal “Darling, I’m all he has left. Ive always wanted to style and now we’re both fulfilling what we wanted as children. Hook is no threat unless you MAKE him one.”-

END ( I’m running outta time lemme know what you think)

[katnisspeetaprim]

Pluto Pt.3

Jungkook/Cat!Hybrid!Reader

Summary: Jungkook deals with the aftermath of you running away. Warnings: Nothing really

Word Count: 2602 M.list

It had been a few days since you came home with Jungkook and though you’ve been settling in well, you’ve yet to actually leave the house. Mainly because you couldn’t face putting that awful collar back on.

Jungkook had also decided to keep Bam away a little while longer, just whilst you get fully settled. He’d also tried to stay home as much as possible with you, but with his job  that wouldn’t always be possible. You still hadn’t listened to his music, and didn’t want to come off as pushy by asking.

One day out of the blue, your heard Jungkook speaking with a voice you didn’t recognise as they entered the apartment and you’d never moved so fast in your life. Before they could leave the hallway, you’d ran and locked yourself in the bathroom and cowered behind the shower curtain.

You could hear them talking to each other but couldn’t make out any words. A knock sounded on the bathroom door, causing you to jump.

‘Hey Y/N it’s just me. I’m sorry if we scared you.’ It was Jungkook speaking softly through the door. You didn’t answer so he spoke again.

‘My friend Tae is here. He’d love to meet you, if you’re up to it?’ You’d love to meet his friend, but you were still too scared to meet someone new, but you didn’t want to let the fear control you anymore.

You jumped up from the tub with the intent of grabbing the handle and proudly showing yourself to them, but as your hand lingered on the handle... You couldn’t do it.

‘He’s not mean Y/N, I promise but it’s ok if you aren’t ready.’ You didn’t reply and backed away from the door. Hearing him sigh behind the door made you well up in tears. He was disappointed in you...

‘Ok... I’ll be back later tonight. Get something to eat, ok?’ His footsteps faded away as he and the unknown voice left the home.

You broke down in tears as soon as he left. You were pitiful and he was already getting fed up of you after only a few days. He couldn’t even have his dog here because of you. You’d leave before he got back tonight. Maybe you could make your own way back to Pluto.

You’d decided to leave everything behind, considering you hardly had any belongings to begin with. Most of what you owned was technically owned by Jungkook. You didn’t even take a jacket and the cold night air was already getting to you. You hugged yourself in an attempt to keep warm, but it wasn’t working too well.

The only thing you’d picked up from the apartment was the temporary collar, which was nestled in your back pocket. You still refused to put it back on.

You had no clue how long you’d been walking, but you were freezing and most certainly lost. You were beginning to panic as you walked down another dark street that you didn’t recognise.

Jungkook had to have been home by now. You wondered what he was thinking right now... was he relieved that you’d left on your own?

You were pulled from your thoughts when flashing lights appeared behind you. You stopped when the car pulled up beside you and two police officers got out.

‘Hey kitty. You don’t have a collar. That’s illegal you know.’ The first officer was an intimidating man. You felt yourself shrink back as he approached.

‘Don’t call her kitty man, have some respect.’ The second officer scolded his partner. The intimidating man grumbled as the softer spoken man smiled kindly to you.

‘Hey there, I’m officer Kim. Do you have a collar at all?’ You eyed him suspiciously but pulled out the collar anyway.

‘This is a temporary collar. Are you newly adopted?’ You nodded in confirmation.

‘She needs to put that on, no exceptions!’ The mean officer grabbed the collar from Kim’s hands and roughly grabbed your shoulder and span you round. You let out a pained yelp and grabbed at your neck when the collar was forced on too tightly.

‘Hey Lee, there’s no need for that.’ Officer Kim shoved Lee away, but he made it clear you needed to keep the collar on. He stormed off and slammed the car door as he got in the drivers seat. Officer Kim sighed and turned back to address you.

‘Why are you out so late, alone?’ You didn’t know what to say. If you told the truth, would Jungkook get in trouble? That’s the last thing you wanted, to cause even more trouble for him.

‘I got lost...’ You whispered, which was half true. Kim nodded in understanding.

‘Do you know the address?’

‘A place called The Hills I think. It’s on my collar...’ You didn’t want to go back, but you were out of options. Officer Kim snickered.

‘The Hills huh? You’ve got some rich owners then.’ You pulled at the restricting collar as he lead you to the car.

Not long later you were back where you started. Officer Lee had insisted he be the one to escort you back to your front door. He gripped your arm tightly as he banged on Jungkook’s door.

Not even a second later, the door swung open and there stood Jungkook. You didn’t have time to take in his expression, before you pulled away from the officer and ran to hide behind Jungkook. The warmth of the home immediatley relieved you from the chill of the outside.

‘Found your pretty kitty wandering the streets. Take better care next time, she wasn’t even wearing a collar.’ With that, he turned and sauntered back down the hall. Jungkook closed the door and span round to face you. It was only now that you saw his dishevelled appearance. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his fingers though it constantly and his eyes were red and puffy. He’d been crying... Was that because of you?

He lunged forwards and gripped your arms tightly, causing you to gasp out as you didn’t expect this from him.

‘Where were you!? Why did you leave like that!?’ He was yelling and shaking you slightly. Your eyes were wide with fear, unable to bring yourself to say anything.

‘Jungkook! You’re scaring her!’ Another voice spoke up from across the room, though at this moment in time, you didn’t care about the stranger. You only cared about Jungkook and the look that was covering his face.

He was scared, all because of you... Only when the other person spoke up did he realise what he was doing. He almost jumped across the room, shocked with himself.

‘I’m sorry...’ He whimpered and held up his palms to show he meant no harm. His eyes locked onto the collar that once again sat around your neck. Without a word, he reached forwards and undid the clasp.

You felt the immediate relief when the collar was off and no longer squeezing your neck.

‘What the fuck!? How tight did they put that thing?’ Jungkook eyed the red mark on your neck in anger. How dare they hurt you like this?

‘I’ll get some ice!’ It was then that you chanced a glance at the new person in the room. You only caught sight of his back as he hurried away, though from the short interaction just now, he seemed thoughtful.

‘That’s just Namjoon-hyung... My group’s leader.’ Jungkook mumbled and rubbed at his red tired eyes. He flopped down onto the sofa and cradled his head in his hands. You stayed stood in front of him and nervously shuffled from side to side.

‘why did you leave?’ Jungkook suddenly broke the silence with a softer voice this time. He looked up to you with a deep frown. ‘Did I do something wrong? Or are you not happy?’ Your heart shattered when you heard his distraught voice. You’d severely misjudged the situation.

Your ears turned downwards and your tail curled up against your leg, and dread had suddenly overtaken your body.

‘I’m so sorry...’ Jungkook’s face was still morphed with emotion when he looked at you, but before he could reply, Namjoon came rushing back in. You jumped back slightly when he rushed up to you. Old habits die hard. Namjoon caught on and immediately held the ice bag out to you.

‘here, hold it on your neck, or do you want Jungkook to help you?’ He gestured towards the younger boy when he saw you hesitate.

‘N-no. I can do it myself.’ You snatched the bag and winced when the chill hit your skin. You suddenly felt hyper aware of both men’s gaze on you. You blushed slightly and looked away.

‘Can I go to my room please?’

‘Y-yeah. You don’t need to ask.’ Jungkook frowned as he watched you basically run  away. It really seemed like you were back t square one after you’d began to make such good progress.

As soon as they heard the door close, Namjoon immediatley turned towards Jungkook.

‘Kook-‘

‘Don’t say anything hyung, I’m really not in the mood tonight.’ Jungkook rolled his eyes and got up, giving one last stressed wipe over his face with his hand.

‘It’s just... Are you really sure about this? It’s obvious she needs some... extra attention.’ He was trying to be as delicate as possible, so as to not escalate the situation anymore than it already had.

‘I know what I’m doing hyung.’

‘Could have fooled me.’ Namjoon scoffed. Jungkook balled his fists as rage began to build up once again.

‘She was getting better hyung, we were making progress! Then I think I spooked her by bringing Tae here...’ Namjoon was stunned silent by the sudden outburst, not expecting such an emotional response from the usually level headed man.

‘This is all my fault...’ Jungkook trailed off in a whisper.

Namjoon hadn’t been convinced by the whole hybrid situation to begin with. He was sure Jungkook would be over it after a day or two. But looking at him now, he’d been in a panic when he couldn’t find you... He knew he’d already struck a deep bond with you, especially since he was willing to give up whatever free time he had for you.

Jungkook was defeated. He really didn’t know what to do to fix the situation he was sure he caused.

‘Why don’t you talk to her before you jump to conclusions?’ Namjoon hadn’t missed the way you’d hidden behind Jungkook when you’d been bought home, so he knew there must be more at play here.

Namjoon left not long after, knowing that his presence was no longer required, now that you were home and safe.

Jungkook had decided to give you space for the rest of the night, and you would talk in the morning. Though as Jungkook lay in bed, he found himself unable to sleep, still thinking about the days events.

He knew you also weren’t sleeping. The light coming from under your door and the sounds of light shuffling were the give away.

He sat up in bed and let out a deep breath before determinedly walking to your door and knocking.

‘Y/N? I know you’re awake. Do you think we can talk now?’ You were startled by the sudden knock, not expecting to have to face Jungkook till the morning.

You’d been drawing on your tablet when he knocked. Since your first night there, using the tablet to draw was one of your favourite activities to help you relax. You weren’t great right now, having never used one before, but with time you hoped to get better. When you didn’t answer, he continued.

‘I’m coming in, ok?’ You didn’t oppose, just turned back round to face your screen.

‘Oh, are you drawing again?’ He asked curiously and came up behind you, placing his hand on the back of your chair.

‘Hey that’s pretty good! You’re getting better with this thing already!’

‘I’m doing what you said and making art for your walls.’ He laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smile.

‘Awesome! I’ll make sure to get some good frames then!’ You were both quiet for a moment as he watched you work over your shoulder.

‘Can we talk about why you left now?’ He looked at you expectantly, not wanting to take no for an answer. Your eyes darted away nervously. You knew you didn’t have a choice but to confess you feelings to him. It was either that or let him be miserable until you went to him on your own.

‘I know you regret adopting me.’ You mumbled, trying to hold back tears as you focused on the tablet in front of you. Jungkook stood up straight and stared down at you. He couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. His own mouth just hung open, unable to form words.

‘I know you’re annoyed I won’t meet your friends, or that you can’t have your dog here...’ The tears were now rolling down your cheeks, but you didn’t want to look at him, so you continued drawing, despite your hand shaking like crazy.

After a moment, Jungkook reached out and placed his hand over yours, stopping your movements. He kneeled down next to your chair, looking up at you.

‘Hey, look at me.’ You looked over through a curtain of your hair.

‘I need you to understand that I don’t regret anything when it comes to you.’ Jungkook was desperate. He wanted you to see that he really did want you here. You sniffled and pushed your hair behind your ear.

‘What about your friends? Or dog?’

‘We’ll go at your pace!’ He immediately jumped in. ‘I’ll make sure you know before anyone comes over so you can choose what to do, and Bam can come back when you’re more settled!’ He stood up and gently started to pet the sensitive ears on top of your head. You bowed your head to allow him better access, silently enjoying the contact.

‘Are you sure I’m not in trouble?’

‘1000% You’re not.’ With that, you leaned forwards in your chair to wrap your arms round his waist and cry into his stomach.

‘It’s ok. You’re ok.’ He whispered softly as he continued to pet your head.

‘Can I sleep in bed with you tonight?’ Jungkook’s hand stilled on your head and he was hesitant to say yes. He didn’t have any intentions, but he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured by sharing a bed with him...

‘I just don’t want to be alone...’ You trailed off, looking up to him with sad eyes.

Jungkook sighed. He couldn’t say no to those eyes.

‘Ok. If that’s what you want, I don’t mind.’

Jungkook had fallen asleep some time ago, laying on his back and head tilted to the side. You lay in the dark room, staring at him from your position on the bed. Just now was the first time you’d gotten to properly look over your ‘owner.’ He had a handsome face, that much was obvious, but what really intrigued you was the tattoo’s that covered his right arm.

You couldn’t stop your fingers from reaching out and tracing over the delicate lines on his skin. You reached his hand and you could just about make out the words on his knuckles in the darkness. ARMY.

You frowned, not knowing what the word could mean to him.

You snuggled up against his arm an closed your eyes. Tomorrow you would look him up and finally find out who he really was.

[weasleycream]

Hello again :)

How about hazbin hotel x male Rosie’s brother reader ?

Y/N was a car lover when he was alive and knew how to fix them and even tried to build engines. His sister was the opposite. The siblings often fought about it. Rosie wanted Y/N to get a proper job and not race all the time, but he didn't want to because racing made him good money. After that, they stopped talking to each other and never spoke to each other again for the rest of their lives. Y/N goes to hell first. He steals a proper car and puts a souped up V8 ( like in mad max) tough tires, he even makes his own thunderpoon and a harpoon to steal stuff, when he first sees himself in the mirror he realizes he looks scary. Pale skin, pointy sharp teeth, black eyes and greyish black hair. He starts working out and walking around half naked (like a warboy in mas max but without the paint) All of which earns him the nickname speed demon. Because he was raised as a decent man and hates violence against women and pimps for this reason he hates Valentino. And he makes fun of him as much as he can, which Valentino hates.

Because he looks like a cannibal, Charlie asks him to go with her and Alastor to Rosie's place ( he and Alastor have a great relationship because they help each other fight VVV). Eventually, the siblings meet

My mind has produced another creation of destruction🤪

. ୭.ᰍㅤ𝅄 ֹ " 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 " 🍥 Ⳋ

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ; 𝒯here is no 😞

ઈઉ ݁  ㅤִㅤ𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; Use of bad words, mentions of blood/death, illegal things, cannibalism, mentions of religion (heaven, hell, atheism, etc.) something short (AND PRETTY bad), Bad grammar in English.

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ; 2,2k+

ઈઉ ㅤִㅤ𝗨𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱

A small group of demons were on their way to the cannibal neighborhood to settle some things with its leader, their sister, Rosie. Although he didn't really like the idea of ​​having to see his 'horrible' sister again, he couldn't refuse Charlie's annoying pleas and insistence and the favor he owed to Alastor, who days ago helped him free himself from the VVV with great humiliation.

Returning to the topic in his mind, he didn't want to see Rosie again, he knew that they were both tycoons from hell, and he shouldn't be afraid, but somehow he was, he never got along with his sister before she died, and the last thing What they did with each other was fighting, which untied the last bond they had left. He was really nervous just thinking about her still being mad at him, because after all, she was her sister and he loved her dearly.

"Oh Come on, Y/N! Nothing bad is going to happen, it's a… Uhm… Peaceful neighborhood?… You have nothing to fear, after all, you're an Overlord!" She appeased Charlie seeing the noticeable nervousness of her 'new friend' of hers wanting to lighten the mood before she too got nervous.

The grayish demon sighed with some annoyance and responded: "I'm not afraid of that disgusting neighborhood, Charlie… I'm nervous about Rosie" he mentioned with some sadness, looking away, seeing how in the distance he could already see the sign that said 'Welcome to the cannibal town!' making him snort resentfully.

"Do you like Rosie?" She blurted out in surprise, seeing how the male stood up straight and was surprised at this.

"Don't be disgusting, Charlie! She's my fucking sister!" She rebuked him angrily, making the blonde more surprised in an innocent way, making her let out a small 'oh' in a soft and low voice, and then see how she opened her eyes in surprise.

"It can't be! Are you the brother of an overlord?!" The demon just snorted tiredly and nodded, listening as Alastor, who had been somewhat quiet, gave an exaggerated and acted laugh, as was typical of him.

"Of course, my dear Charlie! Who else else?! After all, the resemblance is obvious! I can't believe that the princess of hell doesn't even know the relationships between Overlords! It's like asking someone who Lucifer is! " He said charismatic with that distorted voice that brought out humiliations every time he opened his mouth. The blonde only looked away with a nervous laugh, while the blush of embarrassment appeared on his pale skin.

They remained silent for the rest of the trip, until Charlie began to get angry remembering a certain 'Vaggie' and saying that she was a liar, while Alastor had a noticeable twitch in his eye due to the annoyance of the woman next to him. .

They arrived and entered the cannibal plaza, until they reached an elegant white building that looked even bigger on the inside, which was full of demons everywhere. 'Rosie's Emporium' He read the sign before entering, uselessly arranging his hair without taking into account his vulgar clothing, knowing that his sister was going to be dramatically surprised when she saw him, and even more so at those 'facades' as she used to call them years ago.

They went deeper into that place, arriving at what seemed to be the reception that was attended by his sister. It seems like she was a little busy, but she knew how to handle it fluidly without any help, which was something he always admired about her in life.

He was brought out of his thoughts again when he heard the demon scream "Alastor! Where have you been!" She arrived cheerfully without paying attention to her surroundings to greet her dear friend mentioning how gloomy the place was now without her presence. He kept his gaze tightly strained on the scene, wanting the extermination to come now and him to be killed again.

Rosie turned around and spotted Charlie first, making one of her typical cheeky and direct jokes causing the blonde to turn around and roll her eyes in obvious annoyance. When she finished joking, she turned around, finally seeing her brother, causing her smile to drop abruptly, leaving a surprised and annoyed look on her face.

"And it seems that you didn't just refuse to meet me, but also my brother, Al! Long time no see, Y/N, I see that you are still as vulgar as I remember" He mentioned, lowering his gaze as he I looked and 'greeted' him after so many decades.

"Yes… I'm glad to see you too, Ross. You haven't changed a bit either, you're still wearing the same dress they gave you years ago." He responded uncomfortably, keeping his gaze as long as he could, and then looking away, forming a uncomfortable environment [I know I don't believe in you, but… God, help me].

Habían pasado unos minutos desde que se conocieron, y ya estaban en medio de la plaza para que Charlie pudiera dar su gran discurso y ganarse a los caníbales. Pero debido a su tensión y enojo, Rosie se la llevó, dejando a Alastor a cargo. "Bueno, Al, tú estás a cargo mientras yo no estoy, no dejes que la inmundicia haga alboroto en mi territorio" le envió una clara pista a su hermano, para luego arrastrar a Charlie adentro para hablar.

He sighed in defeat. "I don't know why the hell they wanted me here, but I don't know why the hell I agreed to come," he snorted again in annoyance, earning a funny, mocking look from Alastor, who walked up to him and made a sound of 'I don't know,' clearly playing the idiot, bothering the gray-haired boy for the umpteenth time that day. "Look, Alastor, you should know that I don't give a shit that you're the dreaded demon of the Radio, but if you don't stop screwing around I'm going to take care of you may the next person on the air be you"

This made the deer laugh uproariously, who immediately looked back at her. "You know, the reason Rosie hates you is because you never won her heart properly, it's surprising because you're her brother, but I guess in reality every family treats each other the way they want" he received a withering look from Y/N who only grunted, looking straight ahead again.

"I know… It's just that it was always complicated for me, I was never liked by women who weren't my mother. Don't get me wrong, I always treated them well, I grew up with manners and grace, but it's just that, I never had that attitude so refined that they kept in my family, I was always different. Since I can remember, I love illegal racing and everything related to cars, and Rosie was always against them, and I agree with her, all that is dangerous, but Even so, I was passionate about running secretly and achieving my goals and what I was passionate about, something that no one could ever understand." He explained briefly with a gloomy and empty voice, raising his head looking at the ceiling of the central porch and spoke again after giving another sigh "I love Rosie very much, in life she was like my other half, although we have never gotten along, but "I didn't want to be with people who weren't going to support me, and she was never going to do that unless I changed my habits and lifestyle, which I didn't do of my own free will."

The deer listened attentively, narrowing his eyes after the other finished speaking "Then have me support you now in death, my dear menacing friend!" she taunted him, returning to her upright position by removing all her weight from the porch fence. “Rosie is a lovely, understanding demon, and there's not much of that in hell, you know? You should fix the situation with her, who knows?” "Maybe they'll get together and finally destroy the VVV, they're already mad enough." He blurted out of nowhere, causing the grayish demon's raspy laugh to leave his lips. 'Thank you, Al, I owe you again, again. "But don't get used to it," he thanked quietly, knowing that then he would have to return the favor to the radio demon.

After Charlie came out with a more cheerful Rosie and gave her big 'speech' and everyone, including Sussan, joined her, they all started heading to the hotel to get ready, and before Rosie followed them, he grabbed her wrist. , causing her to turn to him with a smile, which quickly dropped when she saw him.

"Ahg… What do you need, Y/N? I have a client to serve and a neighborhood to guide" she asked him sharply as she jerked out of his grip, turning around completely putting her hands on her hips, remaining in a pose challenging.

"Damn it, Rosie, don't be complicated, okay? I want to talk to you and fix things" He asked with a pleading look, with a quite noticeable blush of embarrassment on his grayish face, standing up straight again, waiting for his sister's response.

The demon snorted and turned her head exhausted, giving a nod and a soft noise, accepting, leading him back to the porch, where there was no one around anymore, they stayed there for a long time in an awkward silence, until the man spoke.

"Look Ross… I'm really, really sorry… I never wanted it to end like this…" he began with a shy look, addressing his dear sister, he turned his head once more, looking at her face to Rosie.

The feminine responded, giving a small smile "It's been a long time since no one called me Ross, you know?" she sighed again, watching as her brother smiled an almost invisible smile "And… I know it was never your intention, I know… "It's just that, I didn't want anything to happen to you, you always left at night and didn't take care of yourself, there were times you came back beaten and I didn't like it… But you couldn't understand that I couldn't support something that hurt you." He snapped again, to see his eyes, finally, they were solving their problems, something he always wanted before he died.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Ross, but it's my passion, I can't leave it like this… But I want you to know that if it's for you, I'll take better care of myself." He responded, getting a little closer to his sister, who She quickly pulled him into a loving strong hug.

"Only if you promise not to dress like a cheap prostitute anymore and come see me often…" She murmured against him, holding him tighter against her lovingly, never wanting to let go.

"I missed you so much Rosie… You don't know how much" He returned the hug immediately, hiding his face in her neck, letting out a small laugh. "You know? I thought it was going to be a lot more complicated.." The woman slowly walked away from her, and she looked at him with a loving smile.

"Well, Charlie wasn't the only one who let off steam and got advice in there… She really is a lovely girl, of course, when she's not so loud and annoying…" She revealed as she let out a small laugh, walking away from him for fin, crossing his arms "I never thought you would be the one to take the initiative in these things, Speed ​​Demon, I didn't have you so sentimental" He mocked, with a victorious laugh as he laughed.

"You're not the only one who received advice when they left, Alastor can be a pain in the ass, but still, he knows how to help when he feels like it" He also said laughing, hugging the female's shoulders, starting to walk next to the group again, which was quite far away.

"Well, that stubborn guy can be a sweetheart when he wants to be," she replied, resting her head on her brother's shoulder as they walked.

"Although he doesn't give such bad advice, you know? He gave me the idea of ​​allying and overthrowing the VVV, and he's right, they really are annoying." He suggested to his sister, remembering Alastor's words, emphasizing the word 'ally' in burlesque way.

She laughed softly, then put her hands on her hips again. "Well, maybe, but first I'm going to get you decent clothes, don't think I'm going to forget your promise, sir." She remembered seriously, receiving a tired snort from her brother. 'Whatever you say, but we'll stop by my workshop and go by car' he responded in a low voice, knowing that his sister had heard, and received a disgusted face in response "Of course not! First exterminated and in heaven praying to Jesus before getting on "That thing of yours, you would kill me again but with a heart attack." He laughed loudly, keeping up with him.

Well… It's not the best thing I've ever done, I apologize, really, I was never very good with reunions 😞💔Likewise, I hope you liked it.🥹

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Family of Spies 🕵🏻‍♀️ | Everett Ross headcanon

Pairs with “Family of Heroes”

Marvel masterlist

Requested 📨: yes/no (for @autistic-solar-fandom)

——————

Avenger!reader & Ross’ kids sneaking onto a mission with their parents would look like:

How the heathens managed to find y’all is a mystery of its own. You don’t know how to react first: with praise or with anger.

To paint the picture, you and Ross are undercover in a conjoined mission between the Avengers & CIA. The target in question is someone suspected of harboring a fugitive with intel of the super soldier serum created in Madripoor. After Sam and Bucky had settled the issue in New York, you both were sent to recover the fugitive in a manner lowkey as possible.

What neither you--nor your agencies--could prepare for was your children tracking y'all down.

You may be an Avenger (highly skilled and known to put fear in God themself) but at the end of the day you’re a parent first. So, it is no surprise when you lose your shit on the children who infiltrated the highly classified mission you and your husband were on. "I don't want to hear it." "But we just thought--." "And now I have to hear it."

Like you, Everett was very displeased and had to hold his tongue. You already unleashed your wrath he felt maybe it was a good idea to calm the situation than escalate it further by grilling them. He did, however, make his frustration and disappointment known, "We raised you to know better. What the hell were you thinking?! This is not only dangerous, but illegal!"

Your daughter, who you both know had interest in working for Intelligence, immediately went into explanation mode. The excuse they gave--besides missing y'all and worrying about you both not coming home---was that she and her brother could help in the undercover mission. "How exactly do you plan to do that? You haven't even finished high school." "No, but we're already your kids. How hard is it to play the role of a family?"

For your son, he had always wanted to test out the gadgets he'd made. This was his opportunity, but your concern was someone getting hurt since they had not been tested in a concealed environment. Ross agreed, which only had your son pouting. "But dad, think of how useful they can be?" "Son, we're already expecting to go to jail for even considering letting you both help...but we will be sent to the Raft for allowing you to use those when they have not been approved by the Director."

Several times during the mission you about lost it when your daughter or son scurried off. They'd return with new information, completely shocking you both wondering just how the hell they managed to get it. "Where did you hear this?" "That man told the guy beside him. I pretended to read my book and sat at the table right next to them. They didn't pay me any mind."

At one point you did receive a message from Fury asking why his sources are telling him your son was spotted at y'alls location to which you played dumb and prayed he'd dismiss it. Which he did....cause Fury just wants the job done by any means necessary.

Eventually, after several minutes of going back and forth and deciding not to strangle your kids for being so irresponsible, you eventually agree to their plan. This decision of course came with some ground rules. "You will do as we say--and do not act without permission. The second you do something that results in either of you getting hurt, I will personally be calling the U.S military to get your asses out of here." "Yes ma'am/sir"

By some grace of God, the mission was a success. No one, thankfully, was hurt--except for the associates of the man you and Ross were looking for in a hand-to-hand battle that left your kids speechless from their hiding space. The suspect was contained and transported to the Embassy, you and Ross collected your children and had a dinner involving take out and sodas.

The adrenaline your children experienced was enough to confirm that both wanted to pursue careers in espionage and intelligence. Something you and Everett were concerned about initially, but after seeing them and realizing they were equipped the skills needed to be successful agents/spies, you both accepted the inevitable.

"We did good, didn't we honey?" Ross kissed your temple, clicking his glass with yours as you leaned into his side from your spot watching your kids reenact the fight between you and the bad guys. "We sure did. Who would've thought we'd become a family of spies after all?"

[manawari]

Eun-seok

Male | S-Rank | Assassin

→ Quiet. Reserved. Calculating. Agile. And kind-hearted. Eun-seok used to live in an apartment where illegal activities usually commenced; being a cashier at the convenience store was his only livelihood and his salary was not as big as it seemed, but he strived regardless. When a bunch of robbers stormed into his place and wrecked everything down, Eun-seok had never felt so much fear. He was forced to kneel down as the intruders continued to ransack his home for valuables. But that was until a bright light radiated from his body. It caught the robbers off-guard and Eun-seok grabbed this as a chance to break free and race to the kitchen where he reached for the knives. Unfortunately, the robber yanked him by the scruff, but Eun-seok was not backing down and began to fight back.

Suddenly, his body felt it was moving on its own.

Eun-seok had no idea what came over, yet never stopped himself from drawing his knife at the intruders until blood rained the floor. Soon, he was the only one left standing. Eun-seok gasped at the sight of bodies on his feet. But instead of delving into fear, he rushed to his room to gather his possessions into his bag. He changed into new clothes and snuck out of his apartment in the middle of the night.

It was two days when he realized that he had awakened as an S-Rank hunter. Eun-seok went to the Korean Hunters Association building and got himself settled into the world of hunters. Not only did he find out that his rank was the highest and strongest above all hunters, he also discovered that his class was an 'Assassin'.

Now that explained his agile skills and enhanced hearing. However, the latter was only a specialized skill — not all hunters, or assassins, were able to earn such an ability.

He became a member of the 'Fiend Guild'. Led by another S-Rank hunter named Lim Tae-gyu. Eun-seok trained himself with various blades — though he ended up sticking to twin swords and small knives to keep somewhere in his clothing.

As an S-Rank assassin, Eun-seok had an increased speed. He could run within several minutes and was able to take down large monsters after a couple of cuts with his swords. He also had a gun, made with mana stones and infinite bullets, which brought more damage to his targets. He also liked to jump to higher places when attacking as it increased his stamina.

[dluginski]

Animals in Speech (idioms, sayings and proverbs with animals)

1. to have a whale of a time - to enjoy oneself

Despite of his dislike towards these games, he seems to be having a whale of a time.

2. to be as quiet as a mouse - to be very quiet (quite straightforward, isn't it)

I think I haven't heard his voice yet. He was as quiet as a mouse during the party.

3. to dog/hound sth or sb, to be dogged by sth - follow someone in a persistent manner, something negative that keeps coming back, can’t get it to go away like a dog that always returns

I’m dogged by these awful recurring thoughts of my mother’s death.

4. dogged (doggedly, doggedness) - very determined to continue doing something

She's a dogged advocate of reforming the prison system in this country.

5. to go to the dogs - to get into an unfavourable situation, to diminish in quality

Germany's economy appears to be going to the dogs.

6. to be as sick as a dog - extremely ill

The aftermath of swimming in the cold-ass lake in winter was painful. The children were as sick as a dog for the following 2 weeks.

7. to badger someone - to pester someone, to cause havoc

He was badgering her the whole night.

8. the lion's share - the majority or the biggest part of something

I didn't do a lot of work for our group assignment. Maeva's done the lion's share of the work.

9. (straight) from the horse's mouth - to hear something from the person who has direct, first-hand knowledge of it

Actually, this gossip is factually true. I know it because I learned it straight from the horse's mouth. I spoke to Michael himself.

10. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink - You can streamline something for someone to ease the difficulty of it but you cannot force them to do it.

11. to rat on someone, to be a rat - to share information / secrets with somebody that were not meant to be shared, it especially relates to something that could be incriminating or illegal

He ratted on us, we may face a prison sentence now.

12. to wolf down - to eat it back very quickly, like a wolf would eat a very great chunk of sheep (’cause if he doesn’t do it very quickly, the other wolfs would come about and eat it before him)

He wolfed down the dinner my mum made for us as if there was no tomorrow.

13. to pig out (on something) - to eat a lot, you’re eating so much that you’re probably finish up by being sick

And there she is again, pigging out on the carrot cake.

14. to take the bull by the horns - to take control of the situation, to deal with a situation directly

15. the elephant in the room - the thing that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about

16. chicken out - you stop or give up doing something out of fear

Initially, he agreed to go parachute-jumping with us but he chickened out at the very last moment.

17. hold your horses - to tell someone to wait or slow down

Wow, hold your horses. Let's finish the first assignment first and then we'll go on with the second one

18. have a bee in your bonnet - to be obsessed with an idea that keeps on occupying your mind

He's got a bee in his bonnet about moving to Norway.

19. to kill two birds with one stone - to settle two problems, issues in one go, by doing one action

20. to be a fly on the wall - to be unnoticed while listening in on a conversation

They're talking about the upcoming championship. I wish I could be a fly on the wall so that I could find out what artists will be in the singers line-up.

21. The bee's knees or the cat's pyjamas - something is of the best quality, or you could call someone the bee's knees

My mum's tiramisu is the bee's knees. You've got to try it when you come over.

22. to make a beeline (for) - to move towards something quickly and with purpose

Once I saw the group of girls disperse, I made a beeline for my crush when she was on her own.

23. Until the cows come home - for a long time, possibly never-ending time, usually when you're talking about something that you enjoy doing

I could sit here on the sofa and read this novel until the cows come home but someone has to unload the dishwasher.

24. crocodile tears -not real tears, fake tears in order to gain something

I see right through her. They're crocodile tears. I know she doesn't actually care.

25. a different / whole other kettle of fish - something is entirely different, very different from the related thing your talking about

Simultaneous interpreting is a whole other kettle of fish compared to written translation.

26. to have bigger fish to fry - you have more important or better things to do

Don't work yourself up over this matter. You've got bigger fish to fry, you've got to land that new job at FAANG.

27. a sitting duck - easy target, something or someone which is vulnerable to attack

If we leave the car unattended with its doors open, it'd be a sitting duck.

28. a wild goose chase - a pointless task, especially one that involves travel

I was tasked with buying a pumpkin but the thing is, it's spring and they're no pumpkins sold during springtime. It was a wild goose chase.

29. to go the whole hog - to commit to something and take it as far as possible

We as a family don't really celebrate Halloween so we don't put out any decorations but our neighbours go the whole hog every year

30. Ants in your pants - you are restless and moving around a lot, usually because you are nervous or excited

Thomas's got ants in his pants today. I think he's nervous about his job interview.

31. Dog eat dog - a very toxic and competitive environment

I left my previous job post because it was dog eat dog in there. Everyone one tried to make themselves look good by diminishing others.

32. in the doghouse - to be in trouble or disgrace

I forgot our relationship anniversary so I'm in the doghouse. She'll be angry with me for at least a week now.

33. to let sleeping dogs lie - leave a situation alone, to not interfere so you don’t cause trouble

Don't you think it'd be better to let the sleeping dogs lie? I get that she's mad now but you just should let her cool off now. Otherwise you'll make it even worse that it already is.

34. to let the cat out of the bag - to reveal a secret

I think it's time to let the cat out of the bag. We're officially a couple.

35. in two shakes of a lamb's tail - really quickly, in a short amount of time

I need to unload the dishwasher. I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

36. a dark horse - being surprisingly good at something

Wow, Dawid. You're really a dark horse. I had no idea you're such a good dancer!

37. Cat got your tongue? - this is a question you might ask somebody who is being unusually quiet

38. to smell a rat - to smell a rat means to be suspicious of a lie

Initially, he said that he would join us but then, out of blue, he messaged me saying something came up and he won'l be able to take part in our event. I smell a rat.

39. a wolf in sheep's clothing - to appear harmless but have sinister intentions

At first glance, she appeared to be a gentle and trustworthy person but it turns out she's a wolf in sheep's clothing, hijacking all our projects and revealing our team's secrets to other firms.

40. a fish out of water - to feel uncomfortable or out of place in a particular situation

As a vegan, I feel like a fish out of water at my Polish family's gathering as they only eat meat-based dishes and don't even try to accommodate to my different diet choices.

41. a frog in your throat - to have difficulty speaking because your throat is dry or hoarse

We had to find a new broadcaster for today's show as our current one's got a frog in his throat

42. a dear in the headlights - to be frozen with fear or shock in a difficult or unexpected situation

When he was corned by all these girls, he was like a dear in the headlights, not knowing how to act or what to say.

43. to make a mountain out of a molehill - to exaggerate or make a big deal out of something that is trivial

It's just a minor caveat, we'll be able to power through this. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill.

44. a bull in the china shop - being clumsy or careless in delicate situations that require more levelheadedness

He acted like a bull in the china shop at our monthly recap gathering, causing unnecessary tensions amongst our investors.

45. as free as a bird - carefree and unrestricted

After experiencing Erasmus exchange programme, he felt as free as a bird and planned on travelling abroad on a more regular basis.

46. to clam up - to become quiet suddenly

She clammed up just as I asked her about her family.

47. a nest egg - money saved for the future

We've got a nest egg that we might have to use in case of us getting the sack.

48. monkey see, monkey do - silly/unintelligent people tend to copy each other's actions

All he does is waiting for an opportunity to mimic my actions. I invested in Tesla stocks yesterday and now he's boasting about doing the same thing to our colleagues. Monkey see, monkey do.

49. kitty cornet - diagonal direction

The campus is kitty corner to the train station.

50. (the) birds and the bees - sex education

Jamie learned about the birds and the bees today at school.

51. a cat nap - a short nap

I'm going to have a short nap while you're watching the TV.

52. dog days - very hot days

I try to hide from the sunlight during the dog days of July.

53. have a cow - get extremely upset

My mum had a cow when she came back home and saw that we didn't do the chores yet.

54. Road hog - careless and crazy driver

She's a serial road hog. She's received so many speed tickets.

55. top dog - the most important person in a group or company

She's a top dog in her firm. Everyone looks up to her and she's seen as a leader by many.

56. (the) straw that broke the camel's back / the last straw - a minuscule issue being the final reason why a business, company or person fails

Her small business wasn't doing all that good anyway but when she made a mistake filing her taxes, it is was the straw that broke the camel's back.

57. look what the cat dragged in - we say this when someone new enters a room and looks a bit disheveled, squalid and dirty; or just when someone new comes in

Here he is, look what the cat dragged in.

58. flogging a dead horse - to constantly complain about something that cannot be changed or bring up old stuff from the past

Could you stop bringing it up? You're flogging a dead horse at this point!

59. eager beaver - when someone is enthusiastic about a task and does more than it is expected from him

Wow, you finished up on all the extracurricular reading and assignments? You're such an eager beaver!

60. cast pearls before swine - to gift someone something useless that the person in question won't need for example: giving bunch of jewellery to a homeless person who would much rather be gifted a warm meal than a bunch of gem stones

Why would you gift him this type of present? You know he's a minimalist - you're casting pearls before swine!

61. cash cow - something that is a dependable source of income, you can always count on him when it comes to money

He brought in so much money thanks to his persuasion skills. He was the company's cash cow.

62. cold turkey - stop doing something suddenly without preparation

I stopped hitting the bottle cold turkey last week.

[dindjarinandlysakane]

The Sweetest Taste | Chapter 45 - I was never yours to lose

When Din Djarin meets a beautiful cake seller from Nevarro, do you think he’s just going to stand back and let her suffer at the hands of her abusive boyfriend? After a lifetime of heartache and pain, Lysa Kane realises she’s not on her own any more and finds an unlikely friend in the Mandalorian. And Din Djarin does not like men who treat women like that, not one tiny bit. Friendship/comfort and maybe something more…

Masterlist

Chapter 45 - I was never yours to lose

-----

Din had been to Nar Shaddaa more times than he could count.

It was a dark and dismal moon, and only the worst of the worst remained there long. The rest going for what they came for, and getting out as soon as they could.

Din had only been here perhaps an hour, and already he could feel the thick toxic smog settling over his lungs, despite having switched the seal on his helmet only ten minutes after arriving.

The tall Mandalorian stood now in a dingy little control room in the top of a tall black tower, which stood in the centre of the imports district, which welcomed thousands of shipments of all kinds of illegal goods a day. But Din was not here to cast judgement on how the criminals here made their money. Not today at least.

Right now Din was here for one thing and one thing alone.

“I shouldn't be doing this, y’know-” came the voice of an old acquaintance of Din’s.

Ghonda was a Mon Calamari who certainly owed Din more than one favour for sparing his life almost a decade ago, and then again three years later. Din had heard that Ghonda was working here a while back, and yet now after all this time, much to Ghonda’s surprise and dismay, Din needed to call in that favour.

“You owe me, Ghonda,” said Din in a low voice. “I could have killed you all those years ago…”

He disengaged the safety on the blaster in his hand with an audible click.

“...and I still can.”

Ghonda gave a visible gulp now, shaking his head. “Ok, ok, keep your beskar on, Mando. Let me just look see.”

Din Djarin was not in the mood to be messed with. He feared he had already delayed too long in getting here and finding wherever Crix may have taken Lysa. And so, with urgent adrenaline pumping through his veins, Din felt twitchy and keen to get out there and start searching for her.

Ghonda, who worked in the imports and cargo control tower, tapped ferociously on the terminal before him, before pausing.

“Ok, I’ve only got three ships on our list that arrived from Nevarro in the last twelve hours,” he said, sitting back a little in his seat, as Din leaned forward to look at them.

Placing his hands to the scroll button he looked at the ships one by one.

The first was a small modified gunner that Din knew would only have fitted a pilot inside, far too small for any men plus Lysa. And the second was a cargo vessel. This time too large to have fitted anywhere near to Jawa territory back on Naboo without being noticed by them.

But the third, which Din paused on, one hand on the dial, was a small-sized freight vessel. It was nothing special at all, but certainly large enough to fit several people inside.

“This one,” said Din in a husky voice. “Do you know where it docked?”

Ghonda tapped the terminal again before he brought up a set of coordinates.

“It’s a hanger bridge on the south-side of Nar Shaddaa,” he said promptly. “I’ll transfer them over to your wrist comm.”

The strap on Din’s wrist dinged a second later.

“So…we even then?” said Ghondu, swivelling in his chair and peering up at Mando.

But Din, eyeing the orange coordinate holo that streamed from his wrist, turned on his heel, not even giving Ghondu a final backwards glance.

“For now…” he murmured in a dark voice, as Ghonda gave a hard sigh, watching the Mandalorian as he left the control room.

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

“Where is he?” hissed Xi’an standing at the entrance to the hanger base, peering up at the cloudy night sky above illuminated with an orange light from various advertisement-holos that circled some of the surrounding buildings.

“He’ll be here,” said Ran smoothly. “He ain’t stupid. He’ll have tracked us by now. We left an easy enough trail.”

“I’m going to cut his throat for what he did to my brother,” the Twi’lek snarled.

“An’ my base,” said Ran with a huff. “Don’ you worry. Mando will get what’s comin’ to him.”

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

Lysa sat on the floor in a cold, damp side-room of the hanger. Nothing else inside but a thick black slime that seemed to coat the walls, and a high window, far too small for Lysa to have any chance of escaping through, which looked out onto the bridge they had arrived on. 

The ship they had landed in had been swiftly piloted away by the droid soon after Lysa had been taken inside.

Around the corner, Lysa could just about hear the distant voices of the crew that had brought her here. The man known as Ran and the Twi’lek Xi’an. But with the wind howling at this height, she had no chance of hearing what they were saying.

Xi’an, who had thrown her into this makeshift cell, had given a cackle and slammed the door tightly shut behind her, leaving Lysa alone, where she had been for the past hour.

It was cold up here, and Lysa cursed herself for deciding to wear just a long tunic dress this morning after she had left for work. The dress itself was now coated in blood from her blaster wound.

Lysa’s head still throbbed, as did her shoulder now, which had started to ache painfully once more and bleed a little, as the course of bacta spray began to wear off. 

“Come on, you son of a bantha!” Lysa muttered to herself in a desperate voice, as she struggled to free her hands from the wire tie that bound her wrists together.

She knew that escaping would be a fruitless task, being so far away from the safety of Nevarro. But if somehow she could just find her way to a comlink…

Lysa could feel the razor sharp wire cutting painfully into her skin, but she knew just an inch more and-

She gave a cry, gritting her teeth against the pain, but stopped suddenly as she heard the clunk of the door being unlocked, gazing up hurriedly as it slid open before her.

Crix strolled inside the room, a vile smirk plastered over his features. His outfit was all black, with a leather tunic buttoned up to his neck. His salt and pepper hair slicked back from his long tanned features.

“That bacta spray wearing off yet?” he said, rattling a canister in one hand, circling around her, as Lysa shuffled back, watching his every move with tired green eyes. But she didn't reply.

She hated Crix and feared him in equal measure. Only wishing that she hadn't missed when that blaster had been in her hand, all those weeks ago in Din’s cabin.

“Come on now, Lys’,” grinned Crix, crouching down in front of her and tugging her forwards sharply by her bonds. “No hard feelings, huh?”

Lysa before she could stop herself, bared her teeth at him. “I wish I’d killed you when I had the chance-”

But she was cut off by Crix grabbing her chin, and squeezing both cheeks hard with his fingers.

“Yeah but you didn't,” he said with a harsh laugh. “And now look where you are. Tied up and as useless as ever. We’re only keeping you alive long enough for him to watch you die. Like I said, none of this is even about you anymore. You’re just bait.”

He let go of her face, shaving her back a little as Lysa felt her lip tremble but she held it together. As Crix sprayed the bacta spray over Lysa’s blaster wound, sealing it over once more.

“You know when you an’ him left me for dead, I was in that kriffing desert for a day hiding from those Peacekeepers before I sneaked my way back into the city,” he uttered. “I stowed away onto the nearest ship bound for Corulag, and just happened to run into a couple of old friends of mine, who were mightily intrigued to hear about the Mandalorian. Turns out they were old pals of his who he’d double crossed a couple of years back.”

Lysa swallowed as she listened.

“Small world, huh?” continued Crix. “And well that's when we realised we all wanted the same thing. We all want to see the Mandalorian dead. Because of him, Ran lost his base, Xi’an lost her brother. And I lost you.”

Lysa scowled. “I was never yours to lose,” she snarled at him. “Real men don’t treat the women they love like you did-”

But Crix’s eyes seemed to flash at her words as he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back as she let out a cry of pain. And Lysa could only watch as he bared his teeth close to her face, feeling his hot and foul breath on her cheek.

“I never loved you,” he spat. “You hear me? Why would anyone in their right mind love you, Lysa. Cause’ y’know what? A gal like you ain’t worth loving. And at the end of all this…my smilin’  face is the last thing you’re going to see when the light leaves your eyes.”

And with that, he gave her a hard shove backwards, as Lysa whimpered out involuntarily, watching as he rose to his feet and left the room…

…the door sliding shut behind him as he went.

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

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[maria021015]

Zaida knew what she was doing was illegal, but her heart raced for an entirely different reason as she pressed her foot down harder upon the accelerator of her car. Her hair whipped around her face as the cold night air rushed through the half-open windows. The streetlight and trees outside blurred past as she sped through the suburbs, headed straight for the Stilinski household. The glowing numbers on the dashboard read well past midnight, and she hoped that meant that the majority of the cops on duty would be at the station and not on the streets.

“Stiles!” She breathed a short sigh of relief as he answered her second attempt at calling him. “What’s going on right now? And don’t even try to tell me ‘nothing’, because I felt it.”

“Z-Zaida?” The boy’s shivering voice was a soft whisper interrupted by sobbing. He sounded pained and scared and it only pushed the brunette to push the pedal to the metal. Her car swerved in and out of the opposite lane as she struggled to keep control of the vehicle.

“Stiles, where are you?” She questioned, desperate to get to him. “Are you at home?”

“I-I don’t know…I don’t know where I am. My leg…My leg is bleeding.” The boy whimpered and a jolt of potent panic ran through Zaida. If he was injured, his movement would be limited. “My leg is bleeding. I can’t…Zay, I can’t talk. My phone’s gonna die. I have to go. Just...plea-please find me...”

“No, wait, don’t hang up! I need to know-” She cried out but the line already went silent as the call ended. With one hand gripping the wheel with tight knuckles, the other dialled Stiles’ number on her phone in her lap once more, then pressed it to her ear.

“Come on, Stiles, pick up!” She hissed, sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to wash away the heavy dread that had settled in her chest, but it did nothing to help. That feeling was relentlessly clawing at her insides but she knew this time it was all her own. She’d woken to that very same feeling of crippling anxiety and fear, only for the connection between her and Stiles to swiftly drop out once more. She didn’t know what was going on, but no matter how hard she’d tried to reach out and find him, his door in her mind was locked shut. No amount of pounding against the wooden structure made it even so much as budge.

The phone call did not even ring out and Stiles’ voicemail buzzed in her ears as she groaned loudly, throwing her phone onto the passenger's seat in frustration. The first time she’d called the line had been occupied, and now it appeared his phone was dead. She knew it meant that it was no longer possible to track the device.

“Fuck!” Slamming her hand down on the wheel, her nerves jittered as she took a sharp turn onto the Stilinskis’ street. She didn’t bother parking properly - one tyre was up on the curb and the other stuck far out from it, but Zaida couldn’t give a damn.

Her heart sank even more when he noticed that the boy’s powder blue Jeep was missing from the driveway of the house, slimming her already abysmal chances of finding him here. Launching herself out of the vehicle, she ran up the driveway and pushed on the front door only to find it was unlocked. It complied against her touch, swinging open and allowing her inside the house. That couldn’t be good.

“Stiles?!” Screaming out his name into the darkness, she took the stairs two at a time, not caring if his father would be woken up by her. She’d been too frantic to even check if the man’s squad car was parked out front. “Stiles?!”

Rushing into his room, her feet came to a complete stop when she took in the state of the place. Stiles’ murder board was overflowing from its borders, covering the room with pictures and articles pinned with dozens of lines of red string all converging in the centre of his bed, tied around a pair of scissors that was stabbed deep into the mattress. “What the hell?” Zaida mumbled, her muscles stiffening in shock that overpowered the disappointment at Stiles’ absence from the room.

“Our question exactly,” A deep voice drawled from behind her. She whirled to find Aiden and Lydia standing beside the door.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Zaida’s eyes narrowed at the wolf, but her question was directed at her best friend. “With you?”

“Calm down, I was just using him as a model for my art project,” Lydia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “You felt something happen?”

“Yeah, he was scared out of his mind.” Zaida nodded, dropping the issue for now. There were more pressing matters at hand. “You heard something?”

“Yeah, Stiles’ voice telling me to come find him.” The redhead pursed her lips. Their conversation was cut short by another two people entering the bedroom. Isaac stood with a confused frown on his face behind Scott, whose brown eyes darted between the three of them and the web of red string stretching all over the place in what appeared to be ordered chaos. Each line was placed with purpose and there had to be meaning in the strange and unsettling display.

“How did you know? Did he call you, too?” Scott asked them. Ah, so that was who Stiles was on the phone with when she couldn’t reach him the first time she’d called.

“I felt it,” Zaida answered in the simplest of terms.

“I heard it.” Lydia followed suit.

“Don't ask,” Aiden advised the boys dryly. “It gets more confusing when you ask.”

“Okay…” Isaac agreed with a nod and Zaida took the opportunity to step closer, inspecting the papers lining the walls to find that a lot of it was scrawled in Stiles’ messy handwriting. Some papers were recounts of strange recent events, and others were just a few words sprawled across the page.

Irritability. Sleepwalking. Insomnia. Night terrors. Blackouts. Hallucinations? Unable to tell dreams from reality.

“Not as confusing as this.” Lydia pointed out the scissors that acted as an anchor for the rainbows of red string. “He uses red for unsolved cases…”

“Maybe he thinks he's part of an unsolved case?” Aiden suggested with a lazy shrug.

“Or is an unsolved case?” Isaac added, stepping up beside Zaida to look at what she was looking at.

“You’re right. All of you,” Zaida answered all of their questions, gesturing to the different papers as she walked around the room. “These are all his symptoms…things that have been happening lately - unexplained things. Like the appearing and disappearing key, the glowing chemicals, the message on the board in his handwriting telling Barrow to kill Kira, the prank on Coach matching Barrow’s shrapnel bomb.”

“Hold on - is he still out there?” Lydia whirled to face Scott. “You don't know where he is?”

“He said that he was in an industrial basement somewhere.” The werewolf explained what was said on the phone call.

“We came here to get a better scent,” Isaac added, then glancing at Zaida expectantly. “Can’t you find him?”

“No, it’s like he’s shut me out,” She shook her head sombrely, a stab of pain twisting her guts at the loss of connection to the boy. “I can’t feel him anymore.”

“What else did he say?” The redhead asked Scott, hoping that more context might give them some clues as to where he could be.

“Something's wrong with his leg - it's bleeding.” He grimaced and Zaida felt as though she was going to be sick. Stiles was out there somewhere, injured, and she had no way of checking that he was even still alive. What if that was why his door was stuck shut? Had he fallen unconscious from the blood loss? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers for her liking.

“And he's freezing.” Isaac chimed in once more, but Zaida didn’t need the wolf to tell her that for her to know it was true. If Stiles was out there barefoot and in just a t-shirt he could already be hypothermic.

“Tonight's the coldest night of the year.” Zaida was caught off guard when Aiden actually sounded genuinely worried. “It's going to drop into the twenties.”

“What did his dad say?” Lydia wondered if maybe the Sheriff had a way of finding the boy that they hadn’t yet thought of.

“We kind of...We didn't tell him yet.” Scott winced, knowing the reaction he was about to receive.

“What the hell?!” Zaida exclaimed loudly in outrage.

“Stiles is bleeding and freezing and you didn't call his dad?” The redhead stared at them with credulousness in her voice.

“He made me promise not to!” Scott defended himself, having not wanted to worry the man if it could be avoided. “We can find him by scent. If he was sleepwalking, he couldn't have gotten far, right?”

“You didn't notice his Jeep is gone, did you?” Aiden sighed and Zaida couldn’t handle the swirling anxiousness in her chest, resorting to pacing up and down to relieve some of her nervous energy. Five things…

“You promised you wouldn't call his dad - I didn't.” Lydia highlighted the loophole, reaching into her pocket for her phone. Four things…

“Wait, Lydia! Hold on - I can get more help. I can call Derek, Allison-” Scott listed names but neither of the girls in the room were impressed.

“Everyone except for the cops. Great idea!” Lydia scoffed. Three things…

“You guys remember she only gets these feelings when someone's about to die, right?” Even Aiden rose to the redhead’s defence.

“Don’t remind me,” Zaida let out a shaky breath, rubbing at her pounding temples to release some of the tension there. “Scott, I know you don’t want Sheriff to worry, but he needs to know. He can help us.”

“You don't have to call his dad.” Scott yielded, knowing they were all right about this one. “It's five minutes to the station.”

“We'll catch up.” Lydia nodded for them to go, volunteering to stay behind.

“What? Why?” Scott’s brows drew together in confusion.

“There's something here…” The redhead muttered, her green eyes still shifting from object to object across the room.

“Yeah, evidence of total insanity.” Isaac snorted and the brunette beside him knocked into him sharply with her hip.

“Not helping,” Zaida glared at the boy and he - smartly - shut up.

“We can figure out what's wrong with him after we find a way to keep him from freezing to death.” Scott attempted to get Lydia to come with them, but the redhead stood her ground.

“Go.” She insisted stubbornly. “We'll be right behind you.”

���You coming?” Isaac asked Zaida but she shook her head in response.

“I’m gonna stay with Lydia. Maybe she can find something here that’ll help us find him. Not much use at the moment, but I still have my brain.” She reasoned. “Please, just, keep me updated?”

“Will do,” Isaac pulled her into a tight yet brief hug before he and Scott left, able to easily pick up on how heavily this was affecting her.

“So what do we do? How do we trigger your Banshee powers to give us answers?” Aiden asked the redhead once the others were gone.

“We can’t,” Zaida answered for her best friend, who smiled at her gratefully as she took a seat on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “The only thing we can do is wait for it to come to her.”

“Anything yet?” Zaida huffed, looking at Lydia from where she was hanging upside down off Stiles’s bed.

"Maybe if you stopped asking me that, my answer would change," The redhead shook her head in frustration, still concentrating and hoping something would happen.

“What the hell is this?” Aiden lifted up a picture frame that was propped up on the boy’s bookshelf, flashing it to both of the girls.

“It’s a cake,” Lydia answered simply, blinking at the photograph inside. Zaida shot straight up at her words, hopping off the bed and crossing the room to see what they were talking about.

“It looks like a pile of shit,” Aiden wrinkled his nose at it and Zaida snatched the frame out of his hands with a sharp glower.

“It’s clearly a porcupine,” Lydia rolled her eyes at the werewolf and Zaida’s lips pulled into an involuntary smile when she realised that Stiles had taken a photo of the cake she had made for his birthday. Two slices were missing from the bottom left, telling her he’d taken the photo when he’d gotten home after school that day.

“It’s Chewbacca!” The brunette identified and they both stared at her as if she’d grown two heads.

“Gesundheit,” Aiden mumbled and she narrowed her eyes at him darkly.

“I didn’t sneeze, it’s a character from Star Wars you uncultured swine.” Zaida snapped, her heart melting when she looked at the image once more.

“Are you sure though? How can you really tell?” Aiden tilted his head horizontally to look at it from a new angle.

“Because I made it you jackass!” She whacked him across his bicep with the picture before placing it back where they’d found it on the shelf. “I can’t believe he framed this.”

“And I can’t believe you two still aren’t together yet,” Lydia drawled sarcastically, poking fun at her best friend.

“They’re not?” Aiden’s head whipped towards the redhead in surprise. “Then what was all that dancing about at Danny’s party.”

“Sexual frustration,” Lydia shrugged and Zaida’s face flushed red at the girl’s candor, her jaw dropping open.

“I think we all have more pressing issues to worry about than Stiles and I’s relationship - or lack thereof.” She raised a brow at both of them pointedly, her phone buzzing in her pocket distracting her from the discussion.

“You got the messages too?” Lydia questioned, already looking at her phone screen.

“Stiles’ Jeep has been found outside the hospital with the battery dead.” Zaida nodded, reading the first text aloud.

“Nothing at hospital. Derek headed to high school. Isaac going to find Allison." Lydia continued, swiping through her notifications. “...And, Scott's with the Sheriff.”

“And we're standing in a bedroom staring at the walls,” Aiden spoke dryly, running his fingers along one of the lengths of string before plucking it with a twang. Even Zaida couldn’t help but snort in agreement. She had faith in Lydia, but her powers were unpredictable at best. Waiting around when everyone else was out there doing something now felt a bit like a colossal mistake.

“What did you just do? Did you touch one of the strings?” Lydia whirled, her hair whipping about as she spun to face the wolf.

“...Maybe.” Aiden frowned as he stepped away, thinking that he had done something he wasn’t meant to.

“What did that sound like to you?” The girl questioned, green eyes widening in a manner that told Zaida she was onto something.

“...Like a string being pulled?” The werewolf answered with uncertainty.

“You didn't hear people whispering?” Lydia spoke softly, her head tilting as she slowly approached Stiles’ bed.

“I definitely didn't hear people whispering.” Aiden shook his head looking to Zaida for her answer.

“Me neither,” She confirmed in the barest of hisses, not wanting to disturb the silence while she watched Lydia pinch a red string between her fingers, pull it and then release it. The redhead leaned closer, pressing her ear towards it.

“You didn't hear that?” She asked, her lips pressing together in apprehension and slight fear of her own abilities.

“Lydia, I'm not sure anyone hears what you hear.” Aiden retorted somewhat abrasively.

“Lyds, what do you hear?” Zaida prompted her best friend to speak, her body stiffening in anticipation.

“They're whispering...Something about a house…” Lydia answered, her eyes following the string she had plucked to an image pinned on the wall.

“What house?” Aiden asked, but Zaida already knew the answer, even without seeing the image up close.

“Eichen House,” The brunette answered with a grim expression. Of course, there was yet another connection between Barrow and Stiles. “It's the mental health centre William Barrow, the Shrapnel Bomber, was committed to.”

“That's where he is,” Lydia stated confidently. “That's where Stiles is.”

“They’re here,” Zaida breathed a sigh of relief, hugging herself for more warmth as she waited beside Lydia and Aiden at the entrance to Eichen House. Three squad cars pulled up over the crunching gravel, blinding them momentarily until the lights and sirens turned off and Sheriff Stilinski climbed out of the driver’s side of one of the vehicles. Scott was right behind him as they hurried over to where they stood before the looming rusted iron gate to the mental institution.

“Lydia, I don't want to say, ‘are you sure about this’, but…?” The man winced as he addressed the girl. There was a desperation behind his eyes and concern in the lines of his face.

“No - he's here. I swear to God he's here.” The girl insisted and Noah nodded, leading them in through the gate, and then inside large wooden entry doors and over to the front service desk.

“I need access to all basement rooms in this facility.” The Sheriff flashes his badge to the man behind the counter, slipping a paper warrant through the gap in the perspex window separating them.

They were led by a man in what looked like a nurse’s uniform through dark and winding corridors. Eichen House looked as though it was once a family estate - a huge mansion that had been repurposed as a medical facility over a hundred years ago, based on the dated architecture. There was something about it that sent ghostly fingertips dancing along Zaida’s spine. Something that felt a lot like that night at Glen Capri. They walked silently past a winding staircase and through more hallways until they came to a corridor with a single heavy door at it’s end.

“It’s here. It’s right here.” Lydia urged them towards the dead-end. The worker unlocked it for them, and Sheriff’s Stilinski’s torch light beamed into the thick and musty darkness on the other side. They ventured within, quickly hurrying down the steps into the cold and industrial-looking concrete basement. It sounded like the exact place Stiles had described to Scott.

“Stiles?!” Lydia called out into the blackness, and they all shone their torches around the place, over box-filled shelves, an old, dusty couch, and an otherwise empty basement.

“Lydia...?” Scott looked to the redhead for answers, all of their hopes of finding Stiles here deflating.

“He’s not here,” Zaida swallowed thickly, her voice trapped in her throat as her insides churned and her chest burned. They were wrong, and they had wasted so much time - time they couldn’t afford to lose.

“I don't get it. This has to be it.” She muttered almost frantically, eyes glimmering with tears of frustration in herself.

“Then where is he, huh? Where is he?” Noah whispered, his face crumbling as his composure fell apart. He whipped around to face Lydia in a wave of anger, his volume rising. “Where is he?”

The redhead flinched, taking a step backwards instinctively as tears started to fall. Her heart ached with guilt at the sight of the man who wanted nothing more than to find his son. “It’s not her fault,” Zaida defended her friend, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “This stuff isn't really an exact science.”

“I'm sorry…” Noah shook his head at himself for lashing out, running his hands through his cropped brown hair, the same way Stiles would.

“There’s no scent,” Aiden pointed out from the other side of the room. “He hasn’t been here.”

“I don't understand…I’m so sorry, Zaida.” Lydia murmured to herself as the others began to climb the stairs, leaving.

“Don’t be stupid, I know you were trying your best,” The brunette shook her head at her best friend, appreciating that all of her efforts had been in an attempt to help. Zaida gave the room one final sweep with her flashlight before she turned away from it.

The redhead looked at her with hope that Zaida had found something they’d missed. “You okay? What is it?”

“Something's not right with this place…” The brunette shook her head, her voice echoing off the walls. Something didn’t feel right at all. There was a palpable energy that she couldn't explain.

“Guys!” Scott came rushing back in, holding the door open to urge the dawdling girls to pass through. “Mom just messaged - they found him.”

“Oh, thank God,” A shaky breath of relief escaped Zaida’s lips as the tension of the night left her body. Her shoulders sagged as Lydia gripped her hand, tugging her forward. They found him. He was going to be okay.

[allyftt]

Heey guys :D So this is my first post and my English isn't so good so please forgive me TT but I'm here to feed ya'll :) Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated!

TW: Mention of blood, Almost death

Now enjoy :D

________________________________

Arabian nights~

The sun shone over Aaru village, making the sand shine beige. You found yourself in the comfort of your own home that you shared with your partner, the General Mahamatra, the judicator of secrets, a genius scholar, and a very sweet partner in your opinion. He was a feared man throughout Sumeru, making every scholar in the akademiya want to disappear into the ground when meeting him, but not you. You found yourself appreciating every last bit of his muscular and perfect body.

The room was filled with the smell of roasted meat, rice, and nuts; his favorite dish. You knew how to satisfy your partner after a long day of bringing justice to scholars who dared to commit crimes under his watch. You respected his job, you really did, but it did pain you how he often walked in with untreated bruises. He always wanted you to treat his scars for a reason he never shared. Truth was that he adored your touch, It felt like nothing he had experienced before.

Cyno is used to seeing the worst humanity has to offer. Crimes and sins meant to be weighed on a scale and mistakes meant to be corrected. This is how he should live, he knows. This is the path that he has chosen, and he knows that he will not carry regrets.

but then you appeared.

Beautiful (H/C) hair and warm (E/C) eyes. A smile that is genuine and beautiful. You are the most sincere person that Cyno had ever met.

For the first time, Cyno sees something else in a person. He sees kindness without any strings attached. He sees sweetness that he can't comprehend and he begins to see something other than the past. He sees a future where you share a kiss, a hold. Perhaps, he can even see a future where you share a life.

Where he is beloved, not feared. Even if only by a single person, even if only one smile could be his. It will be the only person that matters, stealing his breath.

Your ears perked up at the sound of the door unlocking, a warmth of contentment overshadowed the relief of guessing his schedule right. After years of being in a relationship, you could tell the right moment to start dinner so it finishes right at his arrival.

the sound of Cyno breathing in through his nose made you smile. It was almost like you could see the rare smile appear on his lips after smelling the roasted dish in the whole house. You looked up as Cyno tugged off the infamous jackal headpiece and shook his triggered frizz of silver locks underneath.

you snorted, earning a frown from the man. Apparently, the sound wasn’t as quiet as you imagined. His gaze narrowed as you took him in, returning to the food shortly after. He lay the uniform neatly over the back of the chair before sliding behind you. You were ready for the pressure of his hands against your sides, but still managed to jump at the different temperature of his sun-kissed heat and the cool chill of the house.

“Hi” you muttered softly, leaning into the hold. Your head tilted enough to meet him in a kiss.

“hi,” he echoed, lips now traversing the curve of your jaw.

Cyno’s thumb circled your stomach through your shirt thrice. You moved the food off the heat. “want to get changed? it’s about ready.”

“I have to return to the desert soon. Another group of scholars is selling illegal information and I have to stop it” he rested his chin on your shoulder and took in your body scent. Your skin was warm, bringing him some peace in the comfortable silence laying over the room.

He let go and walked to the table, sitting down on the same chair where his uniform rested. You poured a glass of yogurt for him and placed it in front of him before bringing the plate of food. You settled the chair next to him and decided that you would enjoy a shared meal while you could.

After you finished you walked to the sink and stored away the leftovers for you two to take tomorrow while he made himself ready to get out again. His gaze fell on you when he was done, reflecting on the fact of how he got so lucky.

“I want to know what I did to deserve this?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, placing the packaged food in the fridge. The question came up almost every week when he needed to work extra, leaving you at home all alone. And you always gave him the same serious answer, hoping that he one day would accept the fact that he could be loved despite all the bad things he had done.

Passing by Cyno, you placed a kiss on his bottom lip, narrowly avoiding his attempt to capture you as you stored away the yogurt. Suddenly you got spun into his arms as he captured your soft lips into a sweet and loving kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and closing your eyes.

He created a distance between your lips as he stared into your eyes. You could only offer him a sweet smile back, planting a kiss on his nose. “you always deserve it, you’re a wonderful fiance”

Cyno smiled before leaving a quick peck on your lips, letting go of you before putting on the jackal headpiece on his head. You smiled and watched him leave the house, closing the door after him. The silence spread over the house again as you returned to the sink and washed the dishes.

An hour passed as you made yourself ready to leave. Groceries wouldn’t appear in the fridge by themselves and you knew that yourself. What else was there even to do alone in the house?

You could visit Candace until Cyno came home or play with the children by the statue of the seven, but you had things to do this time so you could play with the kids another day. It didn’t take you long to reach the market outside the desert where the people of Sumeru gathered and sold all kinds of things for money. You walked around and collected what you needed before heading back home. The sun had set by now and you were well aware of the dangers lying in the desert at this hour so you were ready for anything, but luck was on your side as you arrived at Aaru village unharmed.

Not many people were outside at this hour so it wasn’t odd for you to see the village this empty. You greeted the people passing you before finally arriving at your house, but something wasn’t right.

the door was slightly open and had marks on it just like someone had broken inside. Your heart started to beat out of your chest and you felt the air in your lungs disappear. There were people in your house and you stood there without anything to protect yourself.

you sneaked inside just like it wasn’t your own house and left the bags in the hall. You grabbed whatever you could find which was a wooden spoon and walked towards the sound. It led you to the living room where you saw eremites look through drawers and boxes to find something of worth.

“Look everywhere! The General must have things of worth! That man will pay for what he did to my father” one of the eremites told his other friends as they placed small gold cups in their bags.

You just hoped that they couldn’t hear your heart beat so loud as it did. you had already spotted the huge swords on their belt and felt like you didn’t stand a single chance against them if you confronted them about it, but it all changed when you saw one of them pick up the one thing that wasn’t allowed to be found.

A diamond and gold bracelet, Cyno’s birthday gift from you. He adored the bracelet and always kept it near him in the house. Cyno was so afraid to lose it so he always left it at home, but now it was in the hands of a disgusting thief who grinned so big. You appeared and looked at them in fury before they could even place it in the bag.

“You let that go, you ugly piece of scum,” you said and hardened your grip on the wooden spoon. They looked back terrified, obviously expecting the general to stand there with his spear but there you stood.

They calmed down and laughed. “Well, what do we have here? You’re so cute. I think I’ll take you with us”

The eremite started to walk towards you as you stood ready to attack. “Obey little girl and we won’t need to hurt you.” The guy took up a knife which made you question if it was a great idea to attack when he had the knife, but you wouldn't let them win. They walked into your house and started stealing your things so they had to pay.

You started to swing and hit them with the spoon hard. It left nasty wounds on their faces which you felt proud of, but what you weren't aware of was that one of them had risen on his feet and captured you in his arms.

“you fucking bitch,” was the only thing you heard before you felt the knife cut through your stomach, making a nasty wound. You screamed and fell to the ground, holding your stomach in pain. You looked down only to see blood spread over your blue shirt. The guy looked down at you and was about to cut one more time but got dragged away by the others who said that Candace had spotted them.

You watched them leave as all kinds of thoughts flew around in your head and you felt the headache start to kick in. Was this it? was this how you would die? All alone in your warm and comfortable home..

Meanwhile, Cyno sighed as he felt his sore muscles kill him. The mission was indeed a pain in the ass but he succeeded in fixing yet another mistake that had been made. He looked up and smiled at the sight of the village. He guessed that you probably were in bed now, waiting for him to arrive so you could fall asleep in his warm embrace.

The closer he got to the house, the more he realized that something was wrong. The door was open and had marks, what had happened here?

He feared the worst as he began running towards the house, almost tripping over the threshold. Cyno saw the bags that lay on the ground with the groceries spread over the floor. He lifted his gaze a little and saw some droplets of blood on the floor beside the bags. Cyno called out your name but got no response, making him panic more as he walked further into the house.

Cyno looked around and saw you in the corner of his eye. There you lay on the floor, in a pool of your blood. He yelled out your name as he ran to you and sat down on his knees where you could see him. You met his eyes as he held your cheeks in his rough and warm hands. Were you dreaming or did he really come to save you?

“Who did this to you?”, he asked. His voice was calm but you knew him too well. A hurricane was stirring inside of him; his red eyes that always shone with safety, now started to diminish to an unrecognizable fury that you had never seen. All over the fact that you were sprawled on the floor, beads of sweat clinging to your forehead, and a waterfall of blood pouring from the gash of your stomach.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out; the words died in your mouth. His gaze fell on the shirt that once was blue but had now turned a dark red color. Cyno felt a deep pain in his chest as it felt like the air from his lungs had been taken away. He lifted her into his arms carefully, afraid to bring her any more pain. The sight of his lover, the person he promised to protect, the person he wanted a future with, now lying hurt in his arms pained him to the core. Who could be so cruel and hurt his fiance like this?

When he found out who it was, they would pay a horrible and well-deserved price. He wouldn't just let them suffer the pain of his hands, they would feel his fury by his spear. There were millions of things he could come up with and what he would do with them, but now he was here with you.

Candace came in, completely out of breath as she saw the sight in front of her. She gasped, putting her hand over her mouth before informing the hospital people to come in and take you. Suddenly the whole living room was filled with nurses who moved you from his arms to a stretcher. Cyno could just watch as they took you away from him, away from the comfort of your home, away from the place where he thought you were safe.

His gaze fell on the engagement ring on his finger that shined in the moonlight. The memory replayed of the day when he proposed to you, something he had been building up the courage to do for a long time. He smiled at the memory of your happy response as tears rolled down your cheeks, capturing him in a sweet and loving kiss right after.

Cyno played with his ring as tears formed in his eyes. It was rare for Cyno to cry, he was never scared of anything, and he never got sad over anything. You had never had an argument that left him in tears, only feeling a bit guilty. and that was what he was feeling right now, guilty.

The guilt burned him in his chest, like knives cutting through his heart. He wasn’t there to save you, he wasn’t there to protect you, you suffered alone.

what did you feel at that moment? fear, loneliness, sadness, and maybe betrayal? He vowed to always be there for you and yet here he was now. too late, too slow.

He stared at the pool of your blood in front of him. Cyno’s hands were shaking as he leaned forward, squeezing the part of his chest where his heart lay. The pain was unbearable, but he had to go through it. His few tears soon started to blend with your blood.

Cyno was at a loss of words and for the first time in all his years of being a matra, he didn’t know what to do. The great General Mahamatra Cyno, the judicator of secrets, a genius scholar, didn’t know what to do more than regret taking the mission. He started hitting the ground until his knuckles became bloody and he felt his ears ring.

After some time he sat up on his knees before standing up on his feet. He walked and got the cleaning material before cleaning the pile of blood and everything else that had been damaged during the robbery.

A lot of things were gone, and he did notice the bracelet being gone too but that was the last thing he worried about right now. Cyno only wanted you to be alright, he wanted you to come back home and smile at him like you always did when he came home.

Cyno finished cleaning the house before taking his spear and walking out of the house towards the hospital. He only hoped that you would make it out alive for him. He wouldn’t be able to live without you, it was impossible.

Candace stood in the waiting room and met him with a smile when he walked in with his uniform on. Cyno put his spear against the wall before turning to the woman with the same serious expression as always. If someone didn’t know Cyno well enough, they wouldn’t see the concerning gaze Cyno had and the quivering lips. “How is she, Candace?”

The blue-haired girl sat down in a chair and sighed. “The doctors haven't come out yet and told me, but you have nothing to worry about. They are in good hands”

He sat down and nodded slightly, placing the clasped hands in his lap. An hour passed before the doctor came out and Cyno was up on his feet faster than anyone could blink.

The doctor looked at him and nodded, causing him to let out a breath he didn’t know that he held inside. “You can go in and meet them if you’d like to. They’re in room 309”

Cyno walked past the doctor and looked for the said number on the walls. He was so close to seeing you again. Warmth and happiness spread all over his body and he felt like he was in love all over again. You had made it, you didn't give up and leave him.

He soon arrived and read the sign beside the red door. “Room 309” he whispered to himself before taking a big breath, opening the door, and walking inside. There you lay on the bed in peace, eyes closed, and arms placed beside you on each side. Cyno closed the door and walked to your side. He took in your features as you lay in bed. It didn’t look like you were in any pain at the moment, but he knew that you would be once the painkillers stopped working.

Cyno sat down in the chair beside the bed and took your hand carefully in his, bringing it up to his lips. He brushed his lips over the back of your hand before placing soft kisses on your knuckles. Your hand was so soft and warm, bringing some comfort to him that you weren't ice cold since you lost a huge amount of blood.

“I’m sorry my love.. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you as I promised. This was not what I wanted destiny to do to you.. I never wanted the safety of our own home to become a place where I lose you.. I’ll become better, I promise I will. You don’t have to worry, I will hunt the people down who did this to you” he whispered, leaving some kisses on your hand before leaning up and kissing your lips softly.

He sat back on the chair and only focused on holding your hand in his. He wouldn’t ever let go of you again, never. Not out of his sight either. If he would go somewhere, you would follow him.

Cyno leaned down and placed his forehead against the bed, closing his eyes to rest a bit. He had been working all day after all, and after seeing his fiance hurt in their home he couldn't rest a bit. Now when he knew that you were safe, it wouldn't hurt to rest a little bit.

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light coming from the nightstand beside you. The words coming out of his mouth pained you. He blamed himself for everything and would probably overwork himself until the day he finds the eremites who tried taking your life. You wouldn’t let that happen to him, not under your watch.

You squeezed his hand slightly, earning him to sit up surprised as he stared into your hazel eyes. You offered him a sweet and tired smile that brought tears into his eyes. That smile.. that beautiful and perfect smile of yours never failed to bring tears to his eyes.

Cyno stood up from his chair and cupped your cheeks carefully with his hands, earning you to lift your hands and hold his. You both stared into each other's eyes as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, holding it there for a while. You smiled and closed your eyes at the touch. The sweet moment you shared meant the world to you both.

“It’s not your fault Cyno. Please don’t blame yourself for not being there. There was no way that either one of us could’ve known that a robbery would happen to us. I’m alive thanks to you my love, and we will bring justice to the people who did this” you whispered to him as he removed his lips from your forehead and replaced it with his own.

He looked into your eyes as he took in the beautiful sight of the eyes he adored. You always knew how to calm him down and feel loved. You moved your hands to his cheek and caressed them with your thumbs as you tilted your head up, leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips. A pink blush appeared on his cheeks as he looked down at your lips. “ I love you too, my ruby” he whispered, tilting his head to the side, catching your soft lips in a sweet kiss. Your hand moved down to his hand where you interlaced fingers together, where the engagement rings shined together in the moonlight.

[tmwwriting]

Title: Make a heaven of hell Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI) Chapter: 1/3 Word Count: 8.8K Tags/Warnings: Lucas Grey x female reader. No use of Y/N. Smut. Porn with plot (lots of plot). Bleak. Angst. Hurt No Comfort. Grimdark. Seedy strip club. Vixen Club from Hitman: Absolution x1000. General gross vibes. Hostile work environment. Illegal activities. Set during Lucas's mercenary years. Reader is a dancer. Both damaged and unhinged in their own ways (how can this go wrong?) Unhealthy relationships. Friends with benefits. Threats of violence. Threats of gender-based violence. Background/implied/referenced violence. Implied/Referenced Prostitution. Minor Original Character(s). Death of Minor Original Character(s). Undernegotiated Everything. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Dry humping. Fingering. Oral sex. PIV sex. CNC. Stranger sex. Unprotected sex. Semi-public sex. Rough sex. Hard kinks. Consensual but NOT safe or sane. Dark fic. Ambiguous/Open Ending. Dead dove: do not eat. A/N: Gonna have to keep writing fics set in Grey's merc years just so I can keep making hostile work environment jokes. And shout out to John Milton's 400 year old poem for the fic & chapter titles.

AO3: (X)

It's a familiar rhythm. Terms. Conditions. No hard feelings.

(Pretty songbirds belong in pretty cages, and running out the clock only works if you're the winning side.)

chapter i. in the lowest deep a lower deep

The other girls notice him first. There's a possessive tenor to their stories, the way the words curl in their mouths in a haughty bestowing, interrupted only as they part for you; you rush to the counter, wincing and clutching your bag, slotting between them and a chorus of "welcome back" before they continue, the giggling and chattering so fever-pitched you fear for the structural integrity of their vocal cords.

On a normal night you'd drop everything to get in on the gossip, kick up your feet and settle in, warm yourself by the campfire of other peoples' trivialities. But there's no time, the last bits of sand trickling down the top of the hourglass, the grit of it sinking between your teeth, even though you've broken every traffic law in the book in your efforts to get here faster. (And no doubt irreparably ruining your relationship with the scrap heap you call a car.) You've both made it though, so all's well that ends well, no matter how much the engine wails at you in protest. Stupid thing.

"And the one always in the corner, don't forget him!"

"The blonde?"

"No, no, the dark one across from him, the good-looking one. I think he—"

You'd sigh—the impatient exhale of coming in mid-story—if it wouldn't fuck up your painstaking, halting attempts at a cat eye. No matter how you angle yourself or your hand (sharp inhales when you lift your arm and move something painful behind your ribs), every flick of the gel pen leaves you more and more uneven in an odd seesaw of black ink. Cocking your head in the mirror and staring in stunned disbelief only brings the mess into further focus: definitely more Marcel Marceau than Sophia Loren, and it only gets worse. This liner clearly hates you and wants you dead—perhaps from all the times you've dropped it on grimy bathroom floors—and it's five seconds away from being javelined across the room before Maria finally takes pity on your increasingly frustrated strokes. She deftly slips the offending pen from your hand as she sits you down and goes to work fixing your face.

"Have you seen him yet?" She asks you, practically humming, so close the brightness of her aches to look at. "He's usually with a few others, at least these past couple of nights. They all look military to me, but Susy says no, too wild."

"That, and they sound British," Susy says, shrugging her shoulders and swinging her manicured feet from her perch on the countertop. Cigarette ashes gather below. You can see the No Smoking sign in the reflection of a mirror—an old joke and sour, pungent punch line. "D'you think we're being invaded by the British Army?"

This causes a cascade from the others:

"You've clearly never worked a club near a barracks—"

"Practically French, the way you'd surrender—"

"Horizontal collaboration, was it?"

"Taking your Chanel obsession a little far—"

The argument escalates without any input from you, with much maligning of various nationalities, Maria insisting that some of the men are actually American, and Susy rebutting that her handsome one, at least, is British.

"If they tip well, I don't care if they're the FBI or MI5," is all the answer you give when they turn to you as the tie breaker, kicking off another round of giggling about how good the men would look in suits, and whether they'd keep their weapons on them during sex. You do sigh, then, but not all the chirping that follows is useless, and you tuck away the tidbits of information that filter through: who stacks dances, who asks for extras, who tips well or not at all, and then more speculation about the glowering dreamboat who spoke only just enough for the girls to ascertain his accent. There's a pang of conscience from somewhere deep inside, stashed out of sight in the dark recesses of some boarded-up ruin—hunting your friends' regulars is a little low, but. . . Maybe these new guys do have money, and maybe one of them will be careless enough that you'll be able to buy yourself something nice this weekend.

It depends on the group, whether this becomes a windfall for the club or a complete shit show. Complete shit show is the safer bet—odds so short no bookie would take you up on it. These guys don't sound military, but you need to see for yourself. Experience is the best teacher: you get all kinds here, the allure of such a lively, colorful watering hole bringing everyone in from their arid planes of existence, and by now you have a pretty solid idea of what to expect from a guy just by the look of him.

Most are boring. Faceless. Excruciatingly normal. Just looking for an escape from the suburban nightmare of their daily lives, bitching and moaning as though someone's holding a gun to their head, making them work that shitty job or cave to a girlfriend's demands for marriage and babies and a white picket fence. They treat dancers like therapists, even in the champagne rooms (a real therapist would be a lot cheaper—they wouldn't have to tip those). If the guys are regulars, you know their kids' birthdays and the drama with their coworkers. Good, boring, decent take home. Things get spicier when the Delgados and Morenos start arguing over turf, as though there's not multiple routes to traffic narcotics from one side of the globe to the other; oh no, they need this little corner of the world, the bastards. Every decrepit, pot-holed street in the city will overflow with their violence, always catching more than one dancer in the floodwaters that spill over into the club. Doesn't help that management will dam the doors open for them. You try and stay far away if any happen to saunter in—bad news all around. 

Mercenaries, though. . . hit or miss. Some will tip well for a dance or two, and some are like the men from the cartels. They'll take what they want, and your menace of a boss won't care as long as they empty their wallets in the process. You try not to think of the girls who have gone missing over the years. 

There's a reason this place doesn't offer health insurance.

Continue reading on AO3.

[godofvillains]

@ensnaresugars

☙ That made him smile as he followed. He'd get his revenge and be able to kill her. "Yeah sorry about that, she never told me what she does, which I guess is smart since it's clearly illegal." He hated giving her any kind of credit.

Even if he was a young adult, and perhaps, even if he was the most wanted villain in the world, Daiki didn't feel nervous around him. Maybe he should have, had every reason to but he just didn't. It was strange but he needed the help he was offering so he wouldn't question it beyond that.

The boy clicked his tongue. "You're right, they really don't change up their routes.." Embarrassed to say he still almost got caught a few times. Too tired from running to memorize every single one of their routes. It was amazing he'd managed for this long all by himself.

If they ran into any trouble he could easily make someone stop seeing them for a bit, anyway.

"Hey, thanks for finding me and offering me an opportunity to exact revenge, I'll pay you back tenfold.."

"Yeah it just would make it easier on where to look for her. But in the end, the out come will be the same," he replies with a shrug of his shoulders. When Tomura wanted to find someone-- he'd find them, no matter what. He'd find a way to do so. "But for now, let's focus on getting home and getting you settled in.."

Shigaraki was feared by many, known as the symbol of terror. However, he made it very clear when one shouldn't fear him-- To those he reaches out to help. Those are people that shouldn't fear him. He wasn't one to try trickery to get what he wanted. He was very open and honest. Only time he'd resort to cheap tricks and betrayal, is if the other person warranted it. Such as killing or harming one of his own.

"Yeah, I expect something out of this for me helping you out. I saw potential worth in you, thus why I am helping you," he states clearly to the boy as they trudged through the back alleys out of the city and onto a bare road. They were free from heroes from this point on, out of the city.

"But... I'm also helping out... cuz I know what it's like to be out on the streets, especially when you're just a kid," he adds, more relaxed now. "Lucky you though, I had no means of defense except to kill when I was a kid out on the streets. I was also mute. People were scared of me cuz I was so dirty and the blood on my hands never washed off..."