#they're both under troughs

[wafflecrew-outofcontext]

Strix: Why was the monster talking to you? Did you play a song for him once?

Paultin: No, so you know how y’all didn’t believe me about the whole Diath thing? That was Diath. He’s doing that thing with the possession and the mind and the control. It’s not fun, it’s really weird. I kinda liked it at some points but for the most part it was uncomfortable. 

Strix: How did you get drunk so fast?

[justtwotired]

could you write something in which the reader discovers that regulus has become a death eater, and everything that comes with it ? except they're in a relationship or have feelings for each other !

i love your writing, thanks <3

Yesss, of course! I don’t know what pronounce you’d have wanted but I’m going with a F!reader for this one, you can always ask me to change it ofc🤍

His dorm was empty as they laid cuddled up in his bed. She felt him starting to relax more as he was half asleep. He didn’t notice her fiddling with his sleeve.

She clipped the button of, and then on again. She pulled on it and turned, she didn’t really know what she was doing, she was a bit bored and not tired.

Her eyes caught something under his sleeve and slowly she started to pull the sleeve down as her eyes got big.

Regulus’ half conscious mind suddenly picked up on what’s was happening and shot up, grabbing his sleeve and pulling it up as he got out of the bed.

She did as well. “What was that?” She demanded to know. “Amour, listen-” he tried as he turned to her to meet her hardened gaze. He never told her about his family’s plans, he didn’t know what she was making of the story, but he knew it was bad as she had never looked at him like this.

“Regulus what was on your arm?” She knew what it was, she just wanted to hear him say it, see if he regretted it. “Y/n I promise it is not what you think.” He said as he felt his voice crack and tears started to fill his eyes but he just blinked them away.

“It isn’t what I think? So that wasn’t the dark mark on your arm?” She huffed sarcastically. “Please just hear me out, love.” He took a few steps towards her and she did one step back.

“You have two minutes.” She said and he noticed she herself was really trying to keep the tears looking in her eyes where they where.

“I didn’t want it, alright, I always knew I would be forced to get the mark, I just believed it would be when I turned seventeen, I thought I could run for it- they just took me by surprise last summer.” He looked away from her and she just watched him.

She didn’t know what to answer, she also didn’t know if she should believe him. She blinked and then turned on her heel towards the door. He didn’t waste a second and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

She turned back to him with a small glare. “Let me go, Regulus.” She said trough gritted teeth. “Please say anything else.” It was almost as if he was begging, and for a second, her gaze softened as she had never seen him this vulnerable.

The second didn’t last long as she pulled her arm towards herself in a weak attempt to break free, but they both knew he was much stronger then her. She pulled again and then used her other hand to try and pry his fingers of her.

He took her wrist with the other hand and she suddenly noticed, his grip wasn’t rough at all, he was just holding her almost lovingly.

“Reg, please.” Her voice cracked and she sounded almost miserable, then she looked him in the eyes for the first time since finding out. His grip weakened… and then he let go of her.

“I am so, so sorry.” He whispered and the first tears rolled down his face, her face softened again, never in her life had she seen him cry, she had never see him this vulnerable.

It almost made her pull him in for a hug… almost.

She didn’t know what to do, she wanted time to think, wanted to leave and take a very long walk over the grounds.

“I’m sorry, Regulus.” She said and then left the dorm.

———

On Monday, three days later, she arrived at her history of magic lesson and sat down in her assigned seat, the lesson starting soon after, yet the chair next to her staid empty.

She turned around in her seat and looked at Barty behind her. “Where is Regulus?” She whispered. “In our dorm, he hasn’t left his bed since Friday.” He whispered back.

“What? Has he even been eating?” She asked and he shook his head. “We brought him food but he never ate it, we thought you would know what happened.” Evan decided to take part of the conversation too. “Yeah, he did mumble something about you in his sleep- it was actually the one only time he slept, I don’t think he has slept at all after that.” He said honestly.

Her eyes grew wide and then she sighed. “That absolute moron.” She said and stood up, leaving the class. Not that Binns would find out anyway.

On her way to the dungeons she stopped by the kitchens where she asked the house-elves for some food which they happily provided.

Muttering the Slytherin password, she stepped into the common room and then walked to the sixth years boy dormitory. She opened the door, to which he did not react at all.

“You’re a bloody asshole you know that.” She said and he looked up at her in surprise and shock. “Y/n.” He said with a small sigh and she walked over to his bed. “You can’t just stop eating and sleeping, do you know how bad that is for you? You could have ended up in the hospital!” She scolded as she handed him a sandwich she got from the kitchen.

He just stared at it and then at her. “Well go on, eat it, otherwise I might push it down your throat.” She told him and he hesitated but took a bite anyway. It didn’t take long before it was all eaten.

“I’m sorry about Friday, it’s just- I needed some time to think and hadn’t thought about how unfair it would be to you. I understand that you had no choice, but I guess I was just scared.” She sighed and something in his eyes broke.

“You where scared of me?” He asked, it was the first time he had spoken to her since she came barging into his room. “No! Not of you! Just what this would bring for the future, I was scared for you, scared for what would happen to you.” She admitted and he relaxed a bit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you. I will be alright, Y/n, everything is going to be fine, I promise.” He said and she looked up with a small smile.

“Can you do one thing for me?” She asked and he nodded hastily. “Yes, of course.” He quickly said. “Great, get some fucking sleep you blithering idiot.” She said and he breathed out a laugh.

He pulled her by the arm and made her lay next to him. She cuddled up to him and it didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.

[balkanradfem]

I've been talking about my new swimming spot and how I had to get away from my last one because it became contaminated, but now I have to talk about it in more detail because I am getting stressed, and too anxious to actually go swimming.

So the reason I left my last, super convenient swimming spot, is that it became a spot where a small group of m*n frequented; and the thing is they didn't harass me right away. There are little benches on top of the riverbank, under some trees, and sometimes when I went swimming, there would be people on the benches, just resting and talking, and I would politely greet them and go down the stairs, and we didn't bother each other at all. Until, at one point, whenever I would get into the water, a male from the group would suddenly also decide to get into the river, at which point I would swim to the other side of the river, where I would have peace.

That worked the first time, but the second time, a m*n followed me down into the river, with two big dogs (they're as big as me), and when I swam to the other side of the river, he also swam to the other side. I felt uncomfortable, but decided to linger there for a bit, and then swam back – and he followed me immediately. At this point I started to get away from the swimming spot, into the deeper water, and then one of his dogs followed me and started barking at me, so the m*n also followed the dog, and got uncomfortably close to me.

I want to stress at this point that I'm not wearing a swimsuit or a bikini, I am in big black swimming trunks that go all the way down to my knee, and a sleeveless shirt which I appropriated for swimming because the outfit makes me very comfortable, and un-self conscious. The outfit screams 'nothing to look at here'. And I'm struggling with low weight right now so there's truly nothing interesting, I am looking as unappealing to males as it is possible to be. Even my hair is tied up and wrapped in a bandana. He looks like he's in his late 50s or early 60s, he's three times my size, and his dogs are about as big as I am. There is no legitimate reason for him to linger anywhere close to me.

As I was in my deep water spot, and he wasn't leaving, I started to get terrified. I was looking for a way out of the situation, I was starting to contemplate that he might assault me, because he kept following and cornering me, and even though the place was kinda public, there was nobody nearby. I waited for a moment where he got distracted with one of his dogs, and escaped the scene.

I was too scared to ever go back to this spot, so I found a new one; the problem is my new spot is not exactly far away from the old spot, just much more inconvenient to get to. No stairs, you have to wade trough tall grass and get a bit prickled by the nettles and thorns. But I don't care, I'm feeling safe with the nettles. So yesterday I went swimming to my new spot, and as soon as I entered the water, I realize the same guy with his dogs, is at the old spot, and I ignore him, I'm far enough that he can't quickly or inconspicuously approach me. So I'm swimming to the other side of the river, swimming back, looking at ducks, letting all of the little fish snack on my dead skin cells, and a few times I just offhandedly glanced at his direction, just to make sure he was still there. And every single time, he's staring right at me. He was looking at me when I was entering the water, he was staring in my direction when I was swimming, and when I was just sitting in the water. He was staring after me when I was leaving as well.

That guy seems to just live at the river, he's in there almost every time I go swimming, and at this point I'm scared to go back. Why would you go to the river and then keep your eyes completely glued to another person also swimming there? From my point of view, I was being super cool, making sure us two strangers each have our own private swimming spot, so we can both relax and not be bothered by other people around us. But why is he staring at me?

At this point I can't rule out the possibility that he's planning to assault me and is monitoring my movements to figure out where and when it would be the easiest to do it. There's no way he could be staring at me for no reason whatsoever, even when it's making me obviously very uncomfortable, to the point where I will go to a different place to swim. Apparently me just moving to a different spot isn't enough. And this isn't the first time I've gotten attacked by a male in the river, I once got chased by someone to the point where I had to hide in a corn field to get away.

So now I am sad and wondering if I'll get to swim again this summer. All other access points are either crowded or far away from me, and I hate crowds. I need a no-m*n-summer. Just delete them. Female only summer. I can't deal with this shit anymore.

[laughingwith-bluelips]

I finally got why I love so much the "dragons are gone" ending in the books while I hate it in the movies:

The books set the dragons free.

The movies simply sent them away.

That's basically the idea but I had a vision yesterday at 3am so I will be getting into detail below the cut.

The books have a very strong message about slavery. Some would say that it is a concept that is only important within the context of the last five or four books, but the ones that have been paying attention to the saga as a whole knows that there are things happening in the background. You know, stuff like

People eating dragons

People stealing dragons from their families so

The dragons can serve the vikings

And they're expected to obey because

People threaten to turn them into bags.

That's mostly the first book.

Dragons are constantly showed as unsatisfied with the status quo trough out the books, some more annoyed with the vikings than others. We have complete monologues from different dragons before the war is even a possibility. Sincerely, when it happens, it feels natural.

The idea of freeing the dragons is not one that comes up in the last book, not even close. The first time it is considered an option is in book 9 (I think), and, by the time being, we've already stablish lots of concepts as slavery within human beings, the dangers of a war, how this could lead to the end of all and freeing the dragons is the only option.

It is fatalist to say the least, but it's not going out of nowhere. There is a lot of worldbuilding (more on that later), but it is also the right thing to do. By the time Hiccup is presenting the option, Cowell has made us root for the dragons to be free and wild and do whatever they want, even if what they want is to hide under sea for thousands of years. Or if they don't want, or if the want to but just not in that moment, they can do it.

Oh, yes, because they leave GRADUALLY.

It is a sad ending, but still manages to get as satisfactory because, yet again, we know this happens and the books remind us this will happen eventually every time they can. “There were dragons when I was a boy” is literally the first phrase in the saga.

And then we got the movies.

The movies never followed the books. Like, not very much. The writers decided that they wanted to tell a story of a broken relationship between a father and a son while using dragons, the heroic and prophetic aspects of the books were getting on the way of that and they scrapped the idea. So, no, you can't tell me the movies actually follow the books.

However, if you're very technical, you know the Hiccup we see in the movies resembles Hiccup I, the one that stopped the war between vikings and dragons in the books, stablishing an equal relation between the two races. And this idea of the movies being a prequel can work for the second and specially the first movie, disregarding the fact that there are no prophetic or magical elements at all.

But THW exist and... Exist.

Suddenly the writers and producers decide that they want to follow the books and want to get rid of the dragons, something that is completely against the message of the other two movies.

(I am just talking about the movies, the shows-books relationship is very different and I will someday make a post ranting about it)

The movies do NOT talk about the dangers of dragons being with vikings or how the vikings mistreat the dragons or how bad is slavery or anything like that. The second movie does, yes, but the second movie also sends a message about how people benefit of being with dragons. They have their dragons and they're strong because of that friendship. Being at war with one another only brings loss and suffering for both bands while being together promises an actual future. A bright future that no one imagined before the first movie and that now they cling to.

Dragons and vikings are friends and together cand do basically anything.

That's a very strong message, you know?

And you know what? The third movie decided that such a strong and important message about friendship should leave the franchise completely.

“Free the dragons” it's a concept that doesn't fit with the movies. They're not slaved, they're not away from wildness and, most importantly, they CHOOSE to be with the vikings in the first place. They are already equals, they can do what they want and, you know, they are with the vikings because they want to.

But no, let's do a movie about letting friends go as if it could actually fit in the saga.

(I know it could actually fit but the execution was terrible).

As I said before, the movies resembles Hiccup I befriending dragons and we know how it ends. And someone who has never read the books will go and say "well, it was bound to end that way, why are you mad?” I tell you the difference right now: there's 1000 years of difference between the befriending and the parting in the book, 1000 years in wich we witness the deterioration of said friendship (from being friends and equals to being slaves). That's no what happens in the movies. The films give us 6 years and the only deterioration is within Toothless' character and how they made him a horny dog.

The dragons shouldn't have leave. This was a whim from the writers that thought that ending both stories the same way would be cool. It isn't. At all.

Long story short, it doesn't fit thematically. The movies and the books have different themes with different concepts and different characterizations of the dragons. While the books got story building and present the theme's since the beginning, the movies get it out of no where ignoring the themes in previous works.

Anyways, go read the books they're jewels and the ending isn't as shitty as thw make it look

[cursedcatchild]

Ok, so this is very random, the inspiration kinda jumped me. 😅

If anyone wants to know the funny, but long story behind it I put it under the cut alongside with an alternative version.

So, story time!

Basically me and my fam ( We are prety much the found family trope. I have a little sister [adopted] and a little cousin [ also adopted by my family so he's like my little brother now] + 7 of my friends living with me.) held Mall Tour Day. ( We like to party so we have a bunch of made up holidays especialy during summer.) During this "holiday" we wake up extra early and travel to the capital to explore/shopp in either weird and our favoire malls.

But a few days before we went, I hurt my leg ( and my arm but that's not important in the story) in a pretty bad chool fight. It's nothing serious , and I told the fam I can walk, but they (especially my childhood best friend nicknamed RAT [ Don't ask why we call the guy that, they likes cheese to mutch and he lives in my garage]) insisted that I can't. So I told them: "Then how am I supposed to walk trough half the capital?" And RAT was like : " I'll carry you Bitch!" ( Bitch used verry affectionately.)

And then they did. Godness gracious from 6 in the morning till 10 at the evening I was princess carried trough like 8 mall.

Anyways we was going trough our last stop. The Mall that only sells Christmas decoration ( It's the middle of june, there is 30° outside, we are walking around in tanktops and shorts and other heatwave clothes. It was trippy!) And my little cousin was sleepy ( Welp, he's a 7 years old and he was up walking what like 16 hours? Even for a hyper child that tuckers them out.) so he climbed in my lap and fallen asleep on the spot. And RAT stuck carrying the both of us. " Heh! Eat wast you cooked dumbass!" (Again very lovingly.)

Now the pic about the mall in the backround of the art is made in the actuall Christmas mall. And the pose is the exact pose RAT, me and my lil cousin were in.

As for the idea of drawind the Disater twins and Mikey in that position.... It's kinda an inside joke in our friend group, but RAT and I are ofen being jokingly called Disater twins. Partially because I am a medical student so there goes Leo being the medic status, and RAT is the tech/handiman of the group. ( Sure he won't invent sentient AIs, hopefully, they're not that smart, but hey if the guy can fix our fridge it's close enoug for us.) Not to mention that appernatly we were born on the exact same day, our mothers even shared a Hospital room. 🤣

And for Mikey, literally both my litle sister and little cousin has Mikey vibes. My sister is an artist and cooks, my little cousin is hyper and cheery. So it seemed fit to make him a Mikey.

Anyways, that's the whole story behind the art, if anyone was curious.😊

[ohbo-ohno]

I got more Vampire!Princess thots if you’re still obsessed with Conquerer!Ghost like I am. Conquerer!Ghost celebrating the now almost uncelebrated Vampire holidays by railing his Princess all day within full public eye. Mocking and degrading her on days that she used to look forward to so much. And on werewolf holidays, he lets everyone see just how well their former princess takes Soap’s knot. - 🕸

not so big on vampire public sex but DEFINITELY big on werewolf public sex

this got way longer than i meant it to be lmao. cw for public sex and humiliation below the cut!

in a paranormal conqueror ghost au, i think the only vampires in the kingdom are the princess and her family. so they would've celebrated vampire holidays nationwide, but once her parents are gone and the kingdom is under human rule, no more vampire celebrations.

but ghost is a generous leader, he sees no issue with letting princess celebrate her silly little holidays <3 as long as she doesn't expect non-vampires to, of course. he might even let johnny join in! and of course she has no choice, she has to let both ghost and soap into her little celebrations.

and she hates when he does that, because her holidays are meant to be celebrated with coven. johnny has always been part of her coven, but he's drifting further and further away every day, so her vampire instincts are a little uncomfortable with him there too. she can't comfortably celebrate with them around, and ghost knows it

he's a dick about it too. he's doesn't understand why she's so angry - he could ban her for celebrating completely, you know. wouldn't be difficult, he's already got the who castle in the palm of his hand. and johnny gets kinda sad because she's very clearly not as happy as usual to have him there with her :( he wants to celebrate too!!! he's been celebrating these things with her since they were both little, why is she cold shouldering him?

(for the humiliation - princess misses a meeting and ghost just laughs a little condescendingly, tells the whole room she's having a little celebration for herself, makes it sound as pathetic as he can)

now werewolf holidays... i can see some public sex for that

it's the oldest trope in the werewolf book, but i like the idea that werewolves are trough around the edges, a little animalistic even in their human skins. their celebrations are filled with messy food & public sex

i also like the idea that johnny was one of the only werewolves in the kingdom pre-ghost, but that ghost brought a whole army of them with him. part of the reason johnny connects with ghost is because he gives him this entire culture he's missed out on his whole life

so when the first big werewolf holidays occurs (lunar eclipse maybe) johnny could not be more excited for princess to celebrate with him. she and ghost are both there because they're the rulers (ghost makes sure to rub in the fact that everyone is allowed to celebrate with wolves while no one is allowed to celebrate with vampires).

johnny knows what to expect because the other werewolves have been telling him everything he'll need to know, but princess didn't learn a thing before hand :/ she probably thought it would just be a lot of drinking and eating, certainly not the veritable orgy it ends up being

johnny isn't allowed to fuck princess first. no, that's ghost. in fact, she's the first one to get fucked all night. no one eats before the king, and no one fucks before him either. so he drags her up to a little pedestal, bends her over, and makes her stare out over the cheering crowd as he hammers into her cunt over and over again :/ johnny's right there cheering along with everyone, just barely holding himself back from lunging forward to lick away her tears as they start to drip down her face

the werewolves aren't jeering the princess. to them, ghost is just demonstrating his power over her, his dominance, but also their connection. they would view the princess as a superior and someone to be respected - to them, her fucking is a sort of "power in submission" thing. but to her, she feels violated and humiliated. to her, this is a crowd of animals cheering on her destruction, laughing when she cries.

johnny gets to fuck her next because he's her personal guard & head of the military or smth like that. everyone else starts to disperse into their own revelry, but johnny climbs right up behind ghost and fucks her swollen cunt. he's mean about it, caught up in the celebration and maybe a little bit of moon magic. he bullies his cock into her, growling and snarling, biting through the skin of her shoulders and licking up the blood, squeezing her hips so tight she worries he's grinding her bones against one another

and he takes her over and over and over and over again. it's nonstop. and he never quite bothers to change position - she stays bent over for him, and they fuck in the dirt like animals. he manages to calm down a bit every time his knot gets locked into her, manages to accept some praise and food from ghost's hands (ghost tries to hand-feed you but you ignore him, refuse to take anything from the man who's humiliated you)

johnny doesn't understand why you're so mad in the days after :( you refuse to be seen by any of the soldiers, holing yourself up in your chambers (ghost's chambers) to hide. he doesn't get it, why are you so embarrassed??? the wolves all respect and like you more now after your public claiming, and they really respect johnny more, but you just don't believe that. you're convinced that johnny is lying to you in some sort of cruel ploy to humiliate you again

ghost forces you out eventually, and he can't help but laugh when your shame is painted clearly on your face, even though no one bats an eye at your presence or even hints at the night in the woods

[porphyriosao3]

Day 19 - Blood

"This is a bit more of an event than usual, I'm afraid," Bilbo said as he moved through the kitchen. Dwarves ran in all directions, many moving items to be prepped for cooking back and forth from Erebor's massive pantries. Nobody here batted an eye at the sight of the Lord Consort in the kitchens; while the staff of the Common Halls would have been shocked, the royal kitchens were more than used to the hobbit passing through, either talking to Bombur and the other chefs or just puttering about on his own. "We have the Ironfist delegation up from the Orocarni, and I've heard they're very particular about the way their meat is prepared." Bombur and Gurda Knife-Hand both nodded, eyeing each other in a rivalry Bilbo suspected would outlive him entirely.

"They are," Gurda said gruffly, tucking her beard more tightly into the apron she wore. "I've cooked for them before in the 'Hills."

"While I haven't cooked for the Ironfists, actually..." Bombur said loudly, and they were off. BIlbo sighed. This was all part of dealing with dwarves; it seemed every single person he knew or even met had a list of friends, enemies, and most of all grudges that stretched on for ridiculous lengths. He went into the butchery area and stopped in the door.

There were several pigs trussed up and very clearly the slaughter had just taken place. The floor was awash in blood, the troughs put under them to collect it unable to contain the splashes from their death throes. Patches of the deep crimson looked almost black in the uncertain light of the torches here. Bilbo had seen pigs slaughtered before but somehow the sight of the blood made him woozy. Flashes of Thorin lying on the bloody snow, the battle, the dead lying in all directions. The black patches were like the blood of the orcs. He heard a strange rushing sound in his ears and the room was swimming in front of him. Thorin could have died, he thought dumbly. He was dying. He was dead. Fili was dead. Kili was dead. Bilbo was dead. Everyone was dead. There was nothing but blood and horror. Darkness came as a blessing. The squabbling cooks were shocked at the sight of the hobbit slumping down between them, but Bilbo was out cold.

[sadnymi]

"My Dreams Are Just Dreams... Untit They're Not" modern Mattheo riddle × reader [ chapter two ]

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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language,childhood trauma ,abusing, cheating ( not the main characters)

words: 2,350

Reading Time : 9mins 20sec

Summery: A week at my best friend's beach house, surrounded by our friends as we meet her soon-to-be fiancé's companions, marks a turning point where the very fabric of my beliefs begins to unravel. It's during this week that I encounter the boy who incessantly appears in my dreams, blurring the distinction between the world of my subconscious and the tangible reality before me. Matthe Riddle emerges as the poison I willingly imbibe, a curse that feels akin to a dream, weaving its tendrils into the very essence of my being.

[Gif is not mine]

His fingers seize the waistband of my panties, tearing the fabric like paper as he pulls it away from my body with a smirk. Anticipation grips my senses as I feel my core tighten. With one hand, he trails towards my center, while the other ascends to my neck, encircling it with just enough pressure for me to sense it.

Landing down to kiss my collarbone softly, I moaned having my hands on his hair , staring to suck and leave heavy marks on me i can’t stop but letting a cry out of my mouth kissing his way to my neck my jaw not leaving any insh while his hand circling my clit

He looked me in the eyes still having his other hand on my neck,

“ you need to wake up love “ he gently said , prompting me to jolt awake, my body drenched in sweat as I struggled to catch my breath.

That’s the thing about wet dreams, they kept me hostage for a lingering sensations that held me captive for days. Placing my hands over my racing heart, I couldn't shake the memory of his face. For the first time in my life, I uttered his name—Well —I moaned it

Pushing aside the tangled sheets, I rose from the bed and made my way to the window, the cool ocean breeze tousling my hair as I gazed out at the expansive shoreline stretching before me. The rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves seemed to echo the tumultuous thoughts swirling within me, each crest and trough a reflection of the uncertainty that plagued my mind.

Mattheo Riddle—his name echoed in my thoughts like a haunting refrain, stirring feelings of both fascination and trepidation within me.

Closing my eyes, I focused on the steady rise and fall of my chest, willing myself to remain calm despite the storm raging inside my mind.

"I must not fear," I repeated softly,

the words feeling foreign yet strangely comforting on my tongue.

"I must not let it consume me , fear has no power if he did not find a body to take "

With each repetition, a sense of calm washed over me, as if the words were weaving a protective barrier around me, shielding me from the darkness threatening to engulf me. I focused on the rhythm of my breathing, willing myself to remain anchored in the present moment.

The morning sun bathed the beach house in a golden glow, but inside, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension. I blinked away the remnants of sleep, my mind already heavy with the weight of the previous night's events , with the dream I need a very cold shower to forget . With a sigh, I pushed myself up from the bed went straight to the bathroom taking my time under the water trying to forget the touch and the whisper of a not strange anymore someone on my dreams

slipped into a red top and short black skirt enough to hide what I don't want anyone but me to see - the secret I'm still not ready to share a battle I didn't want to celebrate its win yet

With each step down the stairs, my heart beat faster, anticipation mingling with apprehension.

As I stepped into the kitchen, a gasp escaped my lips at the sight before me. There, hunched over the counter, was Mattheo, his dark hair falling in disarray around his face. My heart skipped a beat as a wave of shock washed over me, rendering me speechless.

I stood frozen in place, my mind reeling with disbelief. I hadn't expected to find him here, of all places, and the realization left me feeling as though I couldn't breathe. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as I struggled to process the sight before me.

Without a word, I slowly made my way towards him, my footsteps echoing loudly in the silence of the room. Every nerve in my body was on edge, and I couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that coursed through me.

As I reached his side, I hesitated, unsure of what to say or do. The air between us crackled with tension, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if he could sense the turmoil raging inside me.

As Mattheo rummaged through the cupboards in search of what I assume was the coffee I couldn't suppress the urge to break the silence. "It's in the blue canister on the top shelf," I offered quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, gesturing towards where I had seen Sarah stash it the day before.

Mattheo's eyes met mine, and for a moment, the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. Gratitude shone in their depths, but beneath the surface, there was something else, something elusive and mysterious. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice soft with appreciation, yet tinged with an enigmatic edge.

I nodded in response, the nervous fluttering in my chest growing stronger with each passing moment. And then, without warning, the words slipped out, fueled by a sudden surge of curiosity. "Have we met?"

He paused, his gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary, as if searching for something hidden beneath the surface. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, and for a brief moment, I regretted breaking the silence. But then, with a smirk , he replied, "I don't believe we have. Did we?"

I remained silent, the weight of his gaze heavy upon me, my mind racing as I struggled to find the right words. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound emerged, the words caught in the tangled web of my thoughts.

Just as I was about to give voice to the jumble of emotions swirling inside me, Mattheo spoke, his voice breaking through the tense silence. "You always seem to be wearing red," he remarked, his tone casual

I blinked in surprise, taken aback by his observation. Memories of yesterday flooded back to me, the vivid image of myself in a red hoodie etched into my mind. And now, here I was, once again clad in the same color.

Before I could formulate a response, Mattheo continued, his words laced with intrigue. "Yesterday, and now i mean ," he added, his gaze lingering on me

I cleared my throat, feeling a flush creeping up my cheeks as I tried to gather my thoughts. "I...uh, I guess I have a thing for red," I replied, trying to smile and hide how nervous I was my voice coming out in a nervous murmur.

"It's just a coincidence, really," I replied, my voice betraying none of the turmoil churning within me. But inside, I knew the truth—I couldn't deny it. Red wasn't just a coincidence; it was my armor, my shield against the uncertainties of the world.

I longed to tell him the real reason, to confess that red was the only color you would ever find me wearing, the only color I felt safe enough wearing. But the words remained lodged in my throat, trapped by the weight of my insecurities and fears. So instead, I forced a small smile and turned away, hoping he wouldn't see through the facade I had constructed around myself.

I summoned every ounce of courage to broach the subject of Mattheo's tattoo, my heart pounding with anticipation. But just as I opened my mouth to speak, his phone pierced the air with an insistent ringtone, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Mattheo's expression shifted, with fleeting glance in my direction, he went outside to answer the call leaving me standing there, my heart sinking with disappointment. With a heavy sigh, I watched him disappear through the door, a knot of frustration tightening in my chest.

As the door closed behind him, a heavy silence settled over the kitchen , broken only by the muffled sound of his voice drifting in from the other side. I stood there, clutching my bag tightly against my chest, feeling the weight of disappointment pressing down on me.

Minutes later and a sound of laughter and chatter behind me went unnoticed, until a familiar voice broke through my reverie. Turning around, I was met with the sight of Julie and Penny standing a few feet away

"Oh the princess herself “ ulie remarked with a smirk, i hate that nickname name , I hate it more than i hate the one he used to call me with

But I forced a strained smile, masking my humiliation behind a facade “ hello Julie I’m glad you’re finally here “

"Y/n, look what penny get us " Sarah exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth.she showed me her favorite candy that penny just bought

Getting the girls bags to their room and chatting with Sarah on the kitchen while making breakfast didn’t manage to get my mind of mattheo or a dream I’m trying to forget — even when the boys are finally awake I still find my myself looking at the door wondering where did he go

“ hiii from earth to y/n “ Sarah says weaving her hand in front of my face

"My apologies, I lost focus for a moment what did you say”

“ I was asking you to get the orange juice from the fridge“

I made an effort to maintain composure,even suggesting we wait for "your other friend" while feigning forgetfulness of his name. Nodding in agreement as Lorenzo identified him as Matteo,, even though I harbored a hidden disappointment. Struggling to conceal my emotions, I found it unexpectedly challenging to acknowledge my own sense of letdown.

As Penny and I made our way into the living room , she wrapped me in a tight hug, "I've missed you," she murmured softly, her words filled with genuine longing.

Returning the hug with equal fervor, I couldn't help but smile at her. "I've missed you too," I replied, feeling grateful for her presence.

My gaze landed on the group of boys gathered around the couch, their voices blending into a lively chatter.

Among them, Lorenzo rose from his seat, a soft smile playing on his lips as he approached Sarah. With a tender kiss , he led her to seat on his lap

"Boys, what do you think of our mysterious beach house?" Julie inquired with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Julie, hush," Sarah interjected, laughter lacing her words.

"Come on, darling, enlighten our guests about the supposed ghosts."said Lorenzo

"Ghosts? Oh, this just keeps getting more intriguing," Blaise chimed in eagerly.

Sarah shook her head, a skeptical expression on his face. "I highly doubt there's any truth to those tales. It's likely just a story concocted by my grandparents to dissuade nighttime adventures and ensure a peaceful night's sleep for the adults."

“ you’re no fun “ Blaise said pretending to be hurt

"What do you think, Y/N?"" you have been there almost every summer with Sarah, since you were kids ". Lorenzo inquired, and I hesitated before responding.

"I haven't actually stayed here much; my stepfather's house is just five minutes away. As far as I know, there aren't any ghosts, at least not while the sun is still up."

“ oh hold on, your stepfather’s house? Is it a haunted house now ? “ Blaise inquired

I wanted to tell him that it has already been a haunted house perhaps without ghosts, but harboring a different kind of menace—a monster that haunts one's existence indefinitely, a specter that one endeavors tirelessly to expunge from memory.

"Enough about ghosts, are we in middle school?" Penny quipped, her words drawing a smile from me. I understood her intent—to shift the conversation—and felt a surge of gratitude towards her.

"Trust me, ghosts were the last thing on my mind in middle school," Blaise asserted

"He was too busy crushing on our 50-year-old professor," a voice chimed in from behind. I made an effort to maintain composure, concealing the emotions stirred within me upon hearing his voice.“ he was busy crushing over our 50 years old professor “ a voice from behind said, I tried to stay calm and hide the feeling I got inside my by just hearing his voice

"Shut up, mate. You didn't have to say that. In my defense, ladies, she was hot ."

“ stop. It “ “ gross “ come from Theodore and Lorenzo

He moved to the head of the couch, whispering something to Theodore. I hadn't even realized I was staring until I caught Julian's gaze fixed on him too. Frustration bubbled within me, but I tried to divert my attention elsewhere, reminding myself that he was just someone I barely knew. He couldn't possibly be the boy from my dreams, my comfort zone—the one I always sought solace with. I needed to stop before I completely lose my mind

"you guys are coming with us to the beach party at the fair tomorrow right ?" Julian inquired, but her eyes were fixed solely on Mattheo as she posed the question for all of them.

“ I didn’t know we were going “ I said casting a perplexed glance in her direction, a strange sensation swirling within me.

"We do go every year," I wanted to retort, but I bit my tongue instead, refraining from pointing out that it was only her second visit to the place.

"Sure," Theodore replied, and I tried to push aside the internal conflict brewing within me.

"I think we should have a movie night instead," Sarah suggested. I sensed her intention behind the suggestion—to give me an out—and I felt safe to have her by my side I loathed the feeling it invoked. My frustration mounted, directed both at the situation and at Julian for orchestrating it. Despite my inner turmoil, I couldn't resist speaking up.

With a forced smile, I replied, "I actually think going to the fair party sounds like fun, Sarah."

Tag list :

@hereticdance

[straightbaittournament]

may the best bait win! propaganda under the cut:

ted and rebecca:

They were set up from the very beginning and there was a super mean mocking scene in the last episode where they teased them having had sex but it didn’t pay off. Ted moves back in with his ex-wife at the end. It’s sad.

the setup is classic romcom shit. bitter rich woman fresh off a harrowing divorce hires sunshine man to unwittingly destroy the only thing her ex-husband truly loved but unfortunately grows attached to both him and that thing. there are multiple shots implying romance between them that end up being fake-outs. these bitches get a goddamn last-minute airport visit. i’m so glad they didn’t end up together tbh i do not like this ship romantically

a romantic relationship has been teased between them trough all seasons but they never actually get together they're just platonic besties

THEY WERE ROBBED!!! like. literally they did at least 3 bait and switch tactics in at least once per season, the last of which being strongly implying in a scene in the FINALE that they slept together. the actress for Rebecca said that she thought they would end up together which obviously affected her performance so we all watched as the show ended with the strongest implication that there’s an unrequited love between them.

luke and leia:

The idea of Luke and Leia was used in advertisements but they obviously decided not to do that. IT’S SO FUNNY. Like, I think this is the closest white straight people will ever get to ‘they were cousins’ing a couple. I looked up advertising to see if it was just in the movie proper or it WAS used to sell it and https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5z1SziDPKQw&t=118s&pp=2AF2kAIB ‘Luke and Leia: in danger, in love, in Star Wars’ is going to be one of the things that rolls around in my head for ages. It’s not just the whole ‘het love triangle advertises 2nd pairing that everyone knows won’t happen’ like Twilight, it’s the backpeddaling ‘no no it can’t happen, they’re actually siblings! It’d be weird! Ignore the ‘good luck’ kiss and the ‘I’ll be back’ kiss in the medbay and of course the full on make out session scene that happened! And even our own advertising’ Of it all.‘

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

Preliminary Battle 4

Roronoa Zoro & Luffy vs Trafalgar Law & Monkey D Luffy vs Monkey D Luffy, Tragfalgar D Water Law, Eustass Kid (kidlulaw) (all from one piece)

Only one group can join the bracket

Propaganda under the cut

(also semi obligatory mention for @onepiece-polls)

Zoro & Luffy

I could rant about them for actual hours but like it's so hard to put thoughts down. But literally an actual quote was someone telling Zoro that "you promised you wouldn't cause trouble" and Zoro replies, EXACT WORDS, "I had no choice because I ran into Luffy." There was also an exchange where Zoro was giving Luffy food and Luffy warns him it might be poison while eating it and Zoro is just like "huh, so that's why my stomach was hurting". They also both swung from vines once and BOTH decided to Tarzan yell. They agreed it was a requirement. Also, Luffy once said he didn't wanna be a hero because heros would share their meat and he wants all of it, and Zoro entirely separately says the SAME THING BUT WITH BOOZE INSTEAD. There are so many examples of them sharing a single braincell. More than I could ever list. But those are the examples I thought of off the top of my head.

On the surface, Zoro seems to have some common sense, and only follows Luffy’s dumb schemes out of respect. Then Nami joins and you realize that Zoro’s seriousness IS his dumbassedness. He and Luffy have one track minds for their own goals and wants, and while they may clash, they have a decent amount of respect for each other.

haven’t finished one piece yet but one example: zoro when stuck figured cutting off his feet would be a genius idea and luffy is luffy. there’s never any thoughts going on in that head

When I first started One Piece I thought Zoro was going to be the badass smart counterpart to the dumbass protagonist just like Vegeta or Sasuke. Turns out I couldn't be more wrong. Him and Luffy are besties and share one brain cell and even thou Zoro uses it most of the time it's still one.

They share one single braincell at the same time: after being seriously injured in a battle, one wakes up to drink sake the other to eat meat. One almost cut a Noble (which means being pursued til death by the most powerful marines), the other actually punches said Noble. One gest stuck between buildings, the other inside a chimney for absolutely unrelated reasons

Their solution to everything is to fight it. They never have a plan and just rush into everything. Somehow they are technically the leaders of the group as captain and first mate. They have both at some point attempt to cut or tear their legs or arms off to get out something. They used the same metaphor to explain why they aren’t a hero without hearing the other say it (a hero would share their meat/booze I want to keep it all to myself).

they said let us cut/punch a hole trough a giant tsunami and they did it <3 also one time they were suppossed to lay low, but well they both immediately started robbing and attacking a town and being recognized and labeled as criminals in a new country. they don't even share a braincell, whatever braincell they had before immediately leave as soon as they both are together, also King of the Pirates and World Greatest Swordsman dreamteam, also for lasagne thing not only would the house be gone, the city be burning and they are fleeing the police while also fighting the police

They're just soooo stupid. Zoro can't walk to steps without getting lost. So Luffy will yank him miles through the air to land on wood. Or stone. Or some other hard substance. Luffy would fight someone on accident for meat. And Zoro for booze. And they have no brain cells between them. Zoro new Luffy for approx. 3 seconds before he decided he would die for him. And Luffy heard about this big scary bounty hunter who was captured by marines and went. I need him on my crew. They're perfect for each other.

I dont where to begin. One of their latest feats though is them going into the enemy base, Meaning to sneak in, Luffy went in after another guy, Zoro after Luffy, luffy then Announced himself, started a fight bc ppl wasted food on purpose, ZORO hearing a commotion, SLICED THROUGH A BUILDING TO GET TO LUFFY AND THEN REPRIMANDED LUFFY FOR FORGETTING THE PLAN AND BEING UNABLE TO BE QUIET. THEN. T H E N LUFFY SAYS HE SPILT FOOD ON PURPOSE AND ZORO IS INSTANT LIKE oh ok. They gotta die. (Theres more to it but thats the gist. And thats not even. Much. They r just so stupid together <33)

they both get lost very easily, they will throw hands with anyone, very stupid but very understanding, were a 2 person pirate crew that sailed around on a rowboat, motivated entirely by fighting, meat, and sake, neither is particularly literate one time luffy got his hand stuck in a bottle and zoro tried to get it out by cutting his hand off, yes this happened in a canon episode

look, I have a tag for them that's literally #pair of idiots.

Law & Luffy

Menaces (affectionate). Destroyed a country together despite throwing practically every step of the plan out the window.

Feral Jungle Gremlins. When they were little they would beat up thugs and steal their cash. They would dine and dash and then formally thank the owner without seeing anything wrong with doing that. The first time we met them in series Luffy sent Ace through several buildings without realizing it. They each have the energy of a little shit but it multiplies by a thousand percent whenever they're in proximity to each other. They love each other so sososososo much and I am STILL bitter about marineford.

Kidlulaw

They had a competition where "First one to dodge the giant fireball is a coward!" They all got hit.

They are all so powerful and they make each other even dumber

omg they share one braincell. Law usually has it, but when the three of them are together, it's hard to find any braincell. Luffy: "The first to dodge this (possibly fatal) attack is a loser!" - Law: "I'm not playing your idiot games!" - Kid: "See, coming up with stupid contests like that is why you guys are small-fry" - Luffy: "Okay, I guess you're just losers then" - All three proceed to play the 'game' then, keeping a close eye on the other to see if they dogde, all three getting hit right in the face by it.

Too busy trying to outdo each other to bother with brain cells. Law may have a couple on a good day, but he loses them when he comes within ten feet of the other two

They are literally so stupid but somehow the best pirates of their generation

they're idiots and i love them (platonically)

They've had a few of battles together (both canon and movies (stampede), and all they do is fight and try to one up each other. If you're not following OP or if you're up to date. Then I suggest looking for episodes 978 and 1016. There are more but these are good.

Law is usually calm and collected. Luffy and Kid are impulsive. When they're all together, Kid's impulsiveness grows, and Law loses all sense. Luffy (and Kid) suggest idiotic challenges, and all three take them up because they can't back down, even though they know better (well, Law does, and sometimes Kid does, and sometimes Luffy does too).

The picture you had in the Lasagna stats. That's it. They are dumb and get even dumber in each other's presence. They don't allow any of the other two to take the lead, so they make stupid decisions. (Like that one time when there were 3 enemy ships and they all didn't want the others to be the one to destroy an enemy ship so they all went after the same ship, which they utterly destroyed, and then bickered about who was the one to destroy it. While they could have... each... gone... for... a seperate... ship.) They are like 3 captains on a ship, but they're not taking shifts. instead, they're all captening it at the same time, and will sleep at the same time too, probably.

fun fact i was unable to use the og link so i put the collage photo from the lasagna scale in MSPAINT and tried to use it to get this specific panel

They played chicken with a massive attack from one of the most dangerous people in the world because they wanted to one up each other.

[balkanradfem]

Since I found the youtube channel of a cool woman who identifies and collects rocks, I've been reading up on rocks, and I gathered some new knowledge! Maybe this is already commonly known but I just discovered it, so I got excited about it!

One of the first rock facts that I find super cool is that many rocks, that can be commonly found outside, are pieces of cooled down lava! Granite, for example, is an igenious rock, which means it was created from lava, and I had no idea, I didn't know I could hold a piece of tamed lava in my hands, it feels powerful and special. Reading more about igenious (lava) rocks led me to the information that 95% of the earth crust is cooled lava, and most of the oceanic crust as well! Floor is literally lava, the children are correct, we are all walking on tons of lava every day, nobody told me this?? Everything under the ocean floor is also lava? I am so close to lava at every point on my life. This is a cool lava planet.

Another cool thing I didn't know is how many awesome rocks you can find outside; I've found out that out of the rocks I've been collecting for fun, a few of them seem to be pieces of quartz! I'm not sure if they are, because I've only started to identify it, but they are white and half-transparent, if you shine a light trough them, you can see inside the rock, sometimes there's brown coloring inside as well. So quartz is cool because it's one of the hardest materials out there (7 on the hardness scale, diamond is 10); you can't scratch it with steel, but it is capable of damaging both iron and steel. To test this, I used a stainless steel pan I found in the river earlier, and I tried to scratch it – the quartz rock stratched it immediately! (don't worry, it wasn't a pan I use). Apparently because of this hardness, quartz can be used as a flint – if you rub it against steel, it will expose the iron inside, iron will react with oxygen, making a spark, and that's how you can start a fire. I've tried this with my pan, but found that the noise was so awful, I stopped before making a spark.

Okay so now that we know about quartz and how cool and transparent it is, nows the time for another very cool info – most of the sand out there is made out of tiny particles of quartz. This, to me, finally solved the mystery of how glass is made, because I knew it was made from melting sand, but that made no sense to me, why would sand become transparent in its melted state? It seemed illogical, BUT, if the sand itself is made from a transparent crystal, then it makes all kinds of sense it would become completely transparent when melted and cleaned out of all impurities. It also means glass is completely natural since it just comes from quartz, I was so happy to know this! Glass is chemically different from quartz, it's not as hard (5.5 on the hardness scale), can be scratched, so it's less cool, but more transparent.

Lots of rocks underground end up under high temperatures and pressure, and sometimes they melt and band together, making 'metamorphic rocks', which sounds made up, but it's what we called them! In specific examples you can actually see layers of different colors, seeing where they melted and banded together, and they're called 'agates', they look colorful, artistic and special. I didn't think you could randomly find something like that outside – turns out you can, if you live in a specific location, or you're close to a river which carries these types of rocks around! I've maybe found one that looks like that, but again, can't identify it for sure, it could be a type of a jasper.

Jasper is a reddish brown type of stone that is also extremely hard, cannot be scratched by steel, and is completely non-transparent, no type of light can shine trough it. It's very common and easy to find! I realized I had a few pieces that are probably jasper, that I liked because of their deep brown color and how smooth they are. If you found a dark brown or red rock on a beach, it could be a jasper. They can also come in dark green, but these are rare! Jasper is also somehow a type of quartz, which just feels wrong.

A cool info I found on youtube was that polishing rocks to make them super shiny and reflective of light, is done by imitating how nature does it; if you find a smooth rock in nature, it's likely been in the river or sea, brushed by the waves and currents against the sand and all of the other rocks, to the point where its surface became smooth and shiny. So people invented a method called 'tumbling', where they put a bunch of rough rocks, sand, water, and some extra material like porcelain in a bucket, close the bucket, then put it in a machine that turns it round and round for about a month! They're taken out every week to be cleaned, then put back into the bucket to get more shine. After they're done tumbling, the rocks become smooth and clean and shiny, looking much more beautiful and satisfying for humans to touch.

One thing I did not know before is that all of the gems that are popular, like amethyst, carnelian, citrine, are all just different types of quartz with some other minerals inside that give them the beautiful color. Quartz really is that cool, she gave us everything.

These are the cool new facts about rocks I now know! If I've said something terminally wrong, please be kind in correcting me, I've learned all this 2 days ago. Incredibly excited to be able to point my finger at a rock outside and say it's name if it happens to be one of the 3 rocks I can now name (jasper, quartz and granite). If you have more cool knowledge about rocks, or know a source to read about it, please give me the link I am drowning on wikipedia.

[hornyramostan]

Sergio Ramos x reader;

in which Sergio needs someone to comfort him

tw:self harm

You and Sergio have been dating for a couple years so you knew how was to live with a professional football player. There where a lot of happy times like when he won the champions league with Real Madrid or when he and the spanish team won the world cup, but as much as good times, there are bad times, and Sergio was traversing a bad one.

From a young age, footballers are strongly demanded so that they have a good performance in the matches. To achieve that good performance they have to go trough a lot of training, and that not only wears you physically but mentally. And that was something you hated so much. It seems like people, or even their own coaches and leaders did not know that mental health is exactly as important as physical health. You were tired of seeing him criying from stress after practices or before matches, because yes, players change A LOT when they're not on the field, and that was huge noticeable on Sergio.

On the field he was agressive, violent, rude and he was going to do everything he can to make his team won, but off the field he was the most loving, affectionate, protective, funny, friendly and sensitive person. People think that just because how he is on the pitch he has no emotions, but he has.

You knew that a few years ago he used to cut himself. You saw the marks one time and the idea of him doing it again tormented you. But multiple times he told you that he wasn't going to do it again, until that day.

You were back home after an exausting day at work. "I'm here!" You said closing the front door. After not hearing any response You exclaim again "Hello? Sergio? Babe? Are you at home?" Again, no one answered and you started to panic. Quickly, you went upstairs and went to the room the both of you shared. You were checking the place until you realized that the bathroom door was closed and there was someone inside, since a fine line of light escaped from under the door. Without much tought, you headed to the door and started to try to open it. "Sergio honey are you in there?" At this point, desperation had taken control of your voice and it began to crack. "Sergio babe open the door please honey i'm here" No response "SERGIO OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR" That scream full of fear, anxiety and panic, was enough for you boyfriend to Open the door. What you saw was nightamare. Your boyfriend, the love of your life was covered in blood because of the cuts he had in his arms an inner thighs. "Y/n i can explain it, i- just-" "no sergio oh my god what happened love why didn't you call me for gods sake look at you oh no no" That's when you started to cry. How didn't you notice how bad he was?

"C'mon, let me take care of you" You raised your hand in a signal for him to grab it and guide him to where you had the first-aid kit with the necessary things to cure him. You sit him down on the bed and grab his arm. With a cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide, you cleaned his cuts "Auch" He complained "Sorry" You said. You keep cleaning and bandaging his cuts, starting with the arms and continuing with the legs. At all time he kept his eyes on you. You didn't see them, but you felt them, you felt his starring gaze on your hands.

When you finished, you raised your head and looked into his eyes. "Why?" Silence. "Sergio why didn't you told me what was happening?" "I, i don't know. It all happened so fast. Lately it seems that the world is against me, I am doing badly in training, the press and television programs do not stop saying things about me, I feel that nobody understands me, that nobody can put up with me" "Sergio, my love, you know you can count with me, ALWAYS at any moment at any time. Please please please don't you ever feel like a burden to me or anyone. I want you to know that you are the most important thing that i got and i love you so so much, so please honey never do this again, and when you feel like you need to do it, call me or tell this to a close friend, anyone you like, but i want you to know that you will never be alone"

Sergio bursted into tears. You've seen him cry, yes, but never like that. He seemed to be venting after a long time suppressing his emotions. Carefully, you brought him to your chest where he quickly snuggled up. You started caressing his back as you settled on the bed.

After a long while, you stopped hearing crying and heard your boyfriend's voice "Thank you y/n, thank you for listening and thank you for taking care of me. I love you so much" Sergio was lying on top of you hugging you around the waist with his head on your chest while you caressed his hair. "It's nothing love, I will always be here for you" And just like that, you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

HII

i wanted to do one with this topic because i think mental health in profesional players (of any sport) isn't talked about enough.

i hope you like it and remember, you will never be alone ❤️

if you like it please interact with it so more people can read it

my inbox its open for requests!

[photo1030]

Hello, lovely!

I’m here with a request, but first I gotta profess my love for your story again (perhaps you lust for what you cannot have). Oh, it has stuck to my mind like glue ever since I first read it. The story is so good and your writing skills are excellent! I’m in great need of those fantastic writing skills of yours please. 🥰

Could you give me some good ol’ sweet fluff with F!Reader watching Arthur Morgan play/snuggle with a cat. Maybe you can add in there that he didn’t want any pets in the beginning, but immediately fell in love with the cute little guy/girl. I can picture Arthur writing in his journal with the cat laying in his lap. OMG. Imagine him drawing the cat in his journal?? 😭

Thank you in advance and please take all the time you may want or need 💚.

Thank you so much for this "ask"! This is my first request ever, so I hope I did it justice. I didn't do a "x female reader" but Arthur and Jack with this kitten. Hope that is OK? Still Arthur being adorable, so can't go wrong, right? But if you'd prefer the f!reader prompt, I can tweak it. This is the clearest image that came to my mind, so I went with it.

*I had my good friend @rivetingrosie4 beta-read this for me, so I kinda feel like its co-authored, too.

Tag: @misspearly1

ARTHUR'S SHADOW

Summary: Arthur finds an unlikely companion.

*This image is not mine. This comes from greyswan618 on fanpop.

By the time Arthur drags his latest bounty score into the sheriff's office, it's late in the day. And this one, although not necessarily hard to catch, took him a while to track down. This job was good money, but it has left Arthur exhausted. The sun is already hanging low in the sky outside of town and preparing to descend behind the mountains for the day. Since the bounty paid well, Arthur decides to treat himself with a stay at the hotel before returning home. After securing his room, he pays the hotel owner to keep his horse stabled overnight as well. May as well treat his horse too.

After walking back outside, Arthur takes Buck by the reins and leads him around to the back of the hotel to where the stable is. When he finds the stable empty, Arthur leads him to one of the larger stalls, since Buck is a rather large horse. He gets him bedded down for the night, taking off his saddle and brushing him down.

With Buck cleaned up, Arthur walks over to the rain barrel just outside the main door of the stable to fill the water trough in the stall. As he stands at the barrel, a sudden rustling catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning to his left, he notices two pairs of shining eyes staring back at him from under the workbench that lines the wall. Curious, Arthur tilts his head to get a better look. He slowly puts down the bucket that is in his hands.

When he crouches down closer to the barn floor, he sees two tiny kittens hiding there. Even with the encroaching darkness of the evening, with the help of the glow of the lamplight, he can tell they’re still very young. Their fur is just growing out of that baby-fuzz stage, the gray color of rain clouds, and they're awfully skinny. Arthur looks around to see if he can see any signs of the momma anywhere, but there's nothing nearby. Either she is out hunting for food for her babies, or she's abandoned them here.

The fatigue in Arthur’s body is no longer his focus, now that he’s found these little ones.

“Well, look at you,” he chuckles quietly. He reaches into his satchel at his side and pulls out a piece of dried fish that he has tucked away. "Bet you're hungry," he says, his voice rumbly, but soft to keep from frightening them.

He holds out the piece of meat, but the two kittens do not move and only stare back at him with scared, vacant eyes.

"Alright, then," he says with a smile and tosses the meat over to them, so they don’t have to leave the security of their hiding place.

The kittens both spring backwards, tripping over each other clumsily, as the projectile hurtles towards them and lands just in front of their tiny faces. But it only takes a second before curiosity and hunger gets the better of them. Once they get a whiff of the aroma of the meat, the kittens pounce on it and begin to devour the morsel.

Satisfied, Arthur stands up, wiping his hands together. He goes back to getting Buck watered and fed for the night, humming peacefully to himself as he does. Every now and then, he glances over his shoulder to watch the kittens, who are feasting on the fish.

With his task with Buck now complete, Arthur heads back to the barn door to return to his room for the night, his boots scraping across the dirt as he moves. The kittens pause momentarily in their feast to cautiously watch him, their little heads bobbing up and down, before returning their attention to the food.

The next morning, Arthur is early to rise from his hotel room and heads out to the stable. But as he approaches the big stable door, he slows his pace as he is met with a gruesome sight. In the tall grasses just outside the door, he finds the body of one of the baby kittens. Judging by the way the carcass is torn open, it looks like a raccoon or hawk got to it.

"Ah, damn…" sighs Arthur as a slight pang of disappointment hits him. They were cute little things, and it’s a real shame that something happened to them. But such is the way of things, he supposes. He then looks around for the second one. Having some small hope that the other kitten may still be alive, Arthur makes a clicking sound with his tongue, trying to coax it out of hiding. After a few moments, he sees a flash of gray fur under a beam in the stable. He bends down and pats his hand on the ground, and the second kitten slowly creeps out towards him.

"Looks like you're an orphan, now," Arthur says to the kitten, slightly tilting his head to the side and assessing the situation. "Ain't we a pair, then?" he chuckles softly.

Arthur slowly reaches over and picks up the kitten by the scruff, the little one giving a soft and pathetic "meow" as it's hoisted up. He holds the kitten up before his face to get a better look. It seems alright, no fleas or other parasites that are noticeable. It appears to be a male cat, too. Arthur places him in the palm of his other hand. The kitten is so tiny to begin with, and with Arthur's large hands, the babe sits perfectly within his palm. He twists his wrist back and forth, pivoting his hand, so he can continue looking over the kitten, trying to decide what to do with it now. The kitten simply stares back at Arthur with tiny smokey blue-gray eyes, blinking innocently, an occasional "meow" squeaking out of its petite mouth.

Arthur sighs with resignation. "Alright, little one. Better come back with me. You won't make it out here on your own, that's for sure."

Arthur pauses another moment, looking at the kitten in his hand, second-guessing whether he's making the right decision to take this cat with him. He's never particularly cared for cats. They always seem so temperamental and judgmental. He gets enough of that bullshit from people. Dogs. Arthur is a dog-person, with Copper being his pride and joy and best friend as a kid growing up with Hosea and Dutch. And, of course, there's always been his horses as his constant companions.

Sighing again with a shrug, he adds, "Well, maybe you can keep Jack company."

Arthur carefully sets the kitten back down and gives him another piece of fish out of his satchel to keep the kitten occupied while he gets Buck saddled and ready to head out and start for home. It's another day's ride, so Arthur is anxious to get going. By the time the kitten has gobbled up the food Arthur gave him, Arthur is ready to go and gently scoops up the kitten again and mounts his horse to begin the journey home.

As they ride out of town, Arthur protectively holds the kitten in his arm, close to his chest. The kitten doesn't move or fuss, but simply lifts its tiny face, turning about to look around at what's around him. After a while of riding, though, Arthur's arm begins to tire, and the kitten's fur up against him is making him start to sweat a bit. He needs to decide what to do with this cat so they can comfortably ride home. He considers putting him in his satchel, but quickly decides against it, worried the kitten would either suffocate inside the leather bag, or, get into all of the contents of the bag itself.

Noting how calm the kitten has been so far, Arthur simply decides to set the kitten down in front of him in the saddle. He's small enough to sit there between Arthur's thick thighs, and his burly forearms keep the kitten contained in the space pretty well. The kitten instantly sinks its claws into the leather of the saddle, bracing itself in a slight panic at being released from Arthur's protective grasp. But although the horse beneath them is walking at a brisk pace, his gait is smooth, so Arthur doesn't worry too much about the kitten getting jostled about.

And soon enough, the kitten finds its bravery and relaxes to release its claws from the soft material and sits up a bit. Arthur doesn't say anything, or hinder the kitten in any way, but watches the little one, amused at its quest for discovery. It doesn't take long for the kitten to gain more confidence, and he eventually climbs up to stand, putting his front paws up on the saddle horn. Like a tiny lion sentinel, the kitten observes the new world around himself.

After a long day's ride, Arthur decides to stop and make a small camp and settle in for the night. Once he finds a quiet, out-of-the-way spot, he halts Buck. Arthur wearily climbs down from his saddle, kitten in-hand, and sets the baby down on the ground to wander about in the cool grass while he sets up his temporary camp.

"Stick close. Don't be goin' and wanderin' off and gettin' into trouble," he warns the kitten with a pointed finger, as if scolding a child.

The furry face simply stares back at him, offering Arthur a quick "meow" in response.

Arthur goes about setting himself up for the evening, getting a small fire going first. Next, he pulls a can of food out of his saddlebag and proceeds to open it. He casually watches the kitten out of the corner of his eye, constantly keeping watch over him as he works. He sets the can next to the fire to heat up while he continues with his task at hand.

Arthur gets his bedroll set out and sets Buck's saddle atop it to use as a pillow to sleep against later. And all the while Arthur works, the gray kitten putters about his feet, following him around continuously as he moves. With every item that Arthur sets down, the kitten eagerly saunters over to sniff and investigate it. He constantly follows and lingers about Arthur's footsteps, poking at everything in innocent interest, to the point that Arthur has to watch his step so the kitten doesn't come under one of his massive footfalls and gets stepped on.

With camp finally set up, Arthur returns his attention to the can that has been warming by the fire as tonight's dinner. He grabs the can, pulls a fork from his bag, and settles down on his bedroll, leaning back against his saddle to get comfortable. Arthur lifts his eyes from the food in his hand to see the kitten slowly approach him. Now that the man has finally stopped moving long enough, the kitten can get up close to him again. The aroma of the food intrigues the little one and he lifts his tiny head, hungrily sniffing the air.

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur spears a few of the beans with the time-worn tines of the fork and extends his arm out to the kitten. "Ya like beans?" he asks the ball of fur.

The kitten cautiously sniffs the food, but turns its nose up at it, backing away.

"Come on now, you eat what's offered or you don't eat at all," he scolds the kitten. "At least that's what my momma used to say." Arthur waves the fork out in front of the kitten again to try to coax it to eat. "Come on…gotta at least try it."

The kitten comes back to him, sniffing again and reluctantly extends its neck out and licks the morsel with its tiny pink sandpaper tongue. After a few licks, the kitten decides it's edible and grabs the piece off of the end of the utensil.

"Atta, boy," Arthur says approvingly. He smirks to himself, realizing how ridiculous he sounds having a conversation with a cat. But then again, he talks to Buck all of the time, so he supposes that this really isn't all that different.

After Arthur and the kitten finish the can of beans, Arthur lays back against the saddle again to relax, his heavy frame melting into the bedroll beneath him, and lights a cigarette. He lets out a long, tired sigh as his eyes land on the kitten once more. As Arthur shuffles his foot a bit to get comfortable, the kitten takes great interest in the movement of his boot and decides to test his bravery.

His little butt rises in the air, tiny tail like an arrow straight up and at attention. The kitten crawls along the ground on his belly, attempting to be stealth-like. Arthur sees this and with a grin, he slowly waves his foot a bit again in temptation. And when he does, the kitten pounces on his boot, attacking it playfully and bites on the leather of the sole. The gruff outlaw lets out a soft laugh of amusement through his nose and begins to slowly wave his foot back and forth at the ankle, causing the kitten, who has wrapped himself around the boot, to sway back and forth above the ground. After a few more gnawing bites, the kitten plops down to the ground, confident in its own victory.

Fully invested in this as his entertainment for the evening, Arthur reaches over to his gambler's hat that is set off to the side, leans forward and drops it overtop of the kitten, trapping it underneath. There is no further movement, but Arthur can hear its little meows from under it. Smirking with his cigarette dangling from his chapped lips, he carefully picks up just the brim of the hat and tilts his head to peer under it.

He sees the kitten's little nose and a thin little paw swipe out at him, causing Arthur to chuckle.

"Fighter, ain't ya?" When Arthur lifts the hat up a bit more, the kitten quickly hops out from under it, grabs ahold of Arthur's forearm, and starts grappling with it, biting and digging its needle-like claws into Arthur's shirt and leather gloves.

Amused, Arthur rests his arm on the ground, carefully pinning the playful kitten underneath. He playfully growls at the kitten and uses his hand to roll the ball of fur over and over again, wrestling and playing with him.

When the kitten finally wears out, Arthur pauses to give him a break. The kitten stands up and gives itself a full-body shake, causing little pieces of grass and dirt to fly through the air. He's a scrappy little thing. Arthur will give him credit for that, at least. Arthur slowly pulls his black leather gloves off of his hands and reaches over to tuck them into his saddlebag, as he is truly getting settled in for the evening now.

The kitten sits on the bedroll next to his thigh, innocently watching Arthur as he moves. Arthur rolls back to lie flat and glances at the kitten for a moment before he extends his large fingertip out to rub along the top of the kitten's head, right between its ears. The kitten's eyes slowly close as it gives into the heavenly feeling, and it eagerly pushes its head up into Arthur's hand. Arthur can hear the kitten purring happily, the soft sound almost hypnotic.

"Ya like that, do ya?" Arthur's low voice rumbles in the quiet night. It's funny how such a small gesture can be so impactful on another living soul. The campfire crackles and pops softly next to them, being the only background noise to be heard in the night; its heat radiating and keeping the two of them cozy and warm.

Arthur eventually ceases petting the kitten and returns his hands to his lap. At the abrupt end to its massage, the kitten looks at Arthur again expectantly, and springs up to stand atop Arthur's chest. Inquisitive as ever, it crouches a bit and crawls towards Arthur's face, its head bobbing up and down, as cats are want to do when stalking their object of interest.

Just as the kitten gets close to Arthur's face, Arthur purses his lips together and blows a short burst of air into its face, causing it to jump back in surprise. It then suddenly leaps forward again in challenge and starts to chew on Arthur's beard. This causes Arthur to bark out a laugh a bit in spite of himself. To see such an innocent creature, so full of energy, warms his bitter old heart. He brings his hands up to start to pet the kitten again, running his large hands along its diminutive and skeletal body. After just a brief moment, the kitten seems placated with this as an "apology" and switches from biting at the man's beard to the occasional lick to his nose instead. And even though it is meant to comfort the kitten, Arthur has to admit that stroking the soft fur is oddly calming to himself as well.

"Alright, then, that's enough of that," Arthur grunts out as he picks up the kitten with one hand and sets him off to the side of him again and reaches over to grab his journal. Arthur rolls himself to sit up with an exaggerated groan, and sets the precious book onto his folded legs, opening the pages to the next blank ivory-colored page. He hasn't even set his pencil to the paper yet, when the curious kitten jumps up to perch itself on his knee.

The small face peers down to inspect the latest object of focus. Before Arthur can even stop him, the kitten hops down onto the book itself and starts walking around in circles on the pages, sniffing and inspecting it, chewing the corner just briefly, before plopping down to lay himself right across the smooth, open surface. The kitten innocently looks up at Arthur, wanting his undivided attention yet again.

"No, now, come on, fuzz-butt, get outta here now," he gruffly chides, but with only a slight annoyance in his voice as he playfully sweeps the kitten to the side with his forearm. The kitten meows in protest, lifting its paw to swat at Arthur's hand. "Hey, don't sass me, now. We're done playin' for the night."

And by this time, exhaustion has finally caught up to both Arthur and the little gray kitten, so Arthur only takes a few minutes to capture some brief thoughts in the journal before turning in for the night. He notes the job he completed, the money brought in for it, and then jots a few lines about this kitten that he'd found. He even takes a moment to quickly sketch the little one onto the paper, the strokes of the graphite tip skipping fluidly across the paper. Every time Arthur looks over at the furry ball for a perspective to assist in his drawing, the tiny face peers back at him, watching the pencil move in Arthur's hand, but obediently staying put.

When he's done, Arthur carefully closes his journal and tucks it back into its rightful place in his satchel. Taking a deep breath and stretching his tired arms over his head for a brief moment, Arthur then takes his hat and scoops the kitten into it in an effort to keep him safe and warm overnight while they sleep. He's hoping the little adventurer stays put and doesn't wander off in the night.

"There, now," peering down at the babe. "You stay there tonight, and then we'll get you home to Jack tomorrow." Arthur rubs his fingertips along the kitten's head again, gently scratching its scalp with his jagged fingernails, and then sets the hat right next to him, protectively along his side, before lying back and closing his eyes for the night.

The next morning, as the warm sunlight breaks over the horizon, consciousness slowly grabs ahold of the outlaw. He can feel the chill of the morning dew clinging to his clothing. With his eyes still sealed shut, reluctant to release the bliss of sleep just yet, Arthur stretches his body, hearing the familiar popping sound of his joints. He's getting too old to be sleeping on the cold, hard ground anymore.

Suddenly, he is aware of a slight weight on his abdomen. He peels open his eyes and sees the kitten curled up into a tight ball on his stomach, fast asleep, with its nose buried into the fur of its tail. It obviously crawled out of the make-shift bed of Arthur's hat and climbed up on top of the man at some point in the night. Whether it was seeking protection or warmth, Arthur's own body heat and the slow rise and fall of his chest kept the tiny animal comforted while it slept. The corners of Arthur's lips involuntarily pull up and a whispered "aww" escapes before he can even stop it.

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

When he gets back to camp, Arthur dismounts his horse and walks through the collection of tents and tables with the kitten tucked in his hand. He heads straight over to Dutch's tent to drop off the bounty payment. Dutch is sitting outside his tent, reading a book with a cigar clenched between his teeth, and as he gets closer, Arthur eventually sets the kitten down on the ground to walk so that his hands are free to dig into his satchel for the bounty money. The kitten continues to follow him as he heads over to the cash box and ledger in Dutch's tent. Dutch lifts his head as he notices Arthur's approach, but quickly tilts his head in confusion as he glances down at the little bundle of gray fur at Arthur's feet.

"What you got there, Arthur?" asks Dutch, pointing at the new arrival.

"Hmm? Oh. Found him. Thought he'd be a good playmate for Jack," says Arthur dismissively, focusing more on his scribbling into the job ledger.

"Well, ain't you the soft-hearted one?" Dutch muses with a slightly mocking grin before he leans over to get a good look at the kitten, reaching his ringed-fingers out to briefly pet him.

"Oh my goodness, look at that little face!" squeals Mary-Beth suddenly when she catches sight of the kitten while walking past the men. In a moment, she rushes over. She bends down and scoops up the kitten into her slender hands and snuggles him into her face. "Tilly! Come quick! Look what Arthur brought home!" she hollers over to her friend who is doing some stitching at one of the tables.

Tilly is quick to her feet and rushes over to join them, eager to see what the excitement is all about. Soon enough, a small group has started to gather around Dutch's tent to see the baby kitten.

"Awww, isn't he just the cutest!" exclaims Tilly, running her fingers over the kitten's fur. "Arthur, are we gonna keep him?" she asks him excitedly.

"Don't matter to me, but I thought Jack might like 'em," replies Arthur, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands back and watches them fawn all over the kitten.

"Jack, come here and see the kitten!" Tilly calls to Jack and Abigail and waves them over.

Jack runs over to them at the invitation, excited to see what they have for him. The second his eyes land on the tiny bundle of fur, Jack gasps with excitement and wonder, his pudgy little hands waving slightly in anticipation as he runs. Mary-Beth sets the kitten down in the grass again as Jack approaches so that the boy can play with him. And thankfully, rather than being timid and frightened by the commotion, the kitten is all too excited to play as well, absolutely loving the attention. Jack gets down on his knees and immediately starts to pet the kitten, talking and cooing to it.

"Momma! He's so soft!" he giggles.

"He sure is," agrees Abigail as she too kneels down next to Jack and reaches over to run her fingers along the tiny feline. "Be careful, though, Jack," she gently tells him. "Be gentle with him so he doesn't bite or scratch you."

"I will, Momma, I promise!" the little boy squeaks in excitement.

Standing back a few feet from the girls and Jack, Dutch and Arthur watch the happy sight.

"Good work, son," says Dutch quietly, patting Arthur on the shoulder and giving him an approving grin.

Arthur casts his eyes over at Dutch with a nod of acceptance in return. And upon seeing that his new traveling companion is in good hands now, Arthur turns and decides to head over to the fire to sit and relax his tired self.

Suddenly, despite the attention he's getting, the kitten notices Arthur moving again and instantly becomes alarmed, his little head poking up to attention. At the sight of the burly outlaw leaving him, the kitten darts away from Jack and the girls, squeezing his way between their legs, and quickly catches up to Arthur's boot-heels. Surprised, Arthur halts and looks down at the kitten.

"Now what are you doin'?" he asks the kitten. "Go on, go play with Jack," as he lowers his hand down to sweep the cat towards Jack again. He stands upright and moves on, walking over to grab a beer bottle from one of the crates. He ungracefully plunks himself down next to John on one of the logs by the fire where other gang members currently reside.

Of course, the kitten is right back behind Arthur with every step. And, of course, Jack is right behind the kitten, giggling excitedly, trying to keep up. The sight of the three of them walking about is really quite sweet; like a duck and her two ducklings tailing behind. Abigail's fingers hover gracefully over her mouth as she smiles, watching them. Arthur has always been good to both her and Jack, and Abigail is quite grateful for it. And right now, her son is just over-the-moon about his new present from his grumpy uncle. She casually walks over to the fire to join everyone, and stands behind her boy.

Sean is already sitting by the fire with Karen in his lap and notices the commotion. "Aww, would ya look at Arthur Morgan, there! The most wanted man in da tri-county area, carrin' on wit a little pussy cat," jokes Sean, "I thought you were supposed ta be da mean one 'round here, Arthur!"

"Shut it, Sean," huffs Arthur, as he reaches down and absentmindedly pats the kitten along its side when it takes a seat on the ground at his feet. "I brought him home for Jack."

"That was mighty nice of you, Arthur. Thank you," praises Abigail as she beams brightly at her son. Jack is currently crouched on the ground right next to the kitten and talking to it as if they are already the best of friends.

Arthur says nothing in response, but simply nods to her as a "you're welcome" while taking a big gulp from his beer bottle.

"Well, Jack, what are you gonna name him?" asks Hosea, his face pulling into a huge smile at the sound of the boy's laughter.

The kitten begins to playfully explore again, taking a real liking to Jack, as it climbs all over him. Its nose sniffs all about the boy's face, the softness of the fur dragging delightfully across his rosy cheeks with a ticklish effect.

"What about 'Milo'?" suggests Mary-beth, who has come to take her place by the fire as well, choosing a spot on the ground close to Jack so that she too can play with the kitten.

"Nah, he don't look like a 'Milo'" says Jack, his eyes still glued to the little cat.

"How 'bout 'Oliver'?" Abigail offers.

But Jack only scrunches his little face up even more in displeasure as he continues to think of the perfect name for his new companion.

"I suppose 'Fluffy' is out of the question, then?" jokes John as he too reaches over to wiggle his fingers in front of the kitten in an effort to join his son and play.

"No!" laughs Jack. "That's not right, either!"

The boy sits quietly, his eyebrows knit in deep thought, as if this is the most important decision he has to make in his young life. And he is quick to notice that the kitten springs into motion every time Arthur moves a muscle. When Arthur stands up to get a log for the fire, the kitten hops up and follows him. When Arthur sits, the kitten is right at his heels again.

"I'm gonna name him 'Shadow'," says Jack definitively, reaching over to pet his kitten, which is still perched at the large man's feet.

"Oh, that's a good one, Jack," his mother encourages. "'Cause he's gray?"

"No! Because he's Uncle Arthur's shadow!" says Jack emphatically at the obvious conclusion.

This observation causes Arthur to pause for a moment. His chest tightens just a bit, flattered by Jack's choice. He looks down at the kitten sitting by his boot, its little face and beautiful eyes peering back at him.

Arthur reaches down and rubs his rough and calloused fingers over Shadow's head, curling the pads of his fingertips around his velvety ears. He grins, but just ever so slightly, a softness settling there that rarely shows. "Huh…'Shadow'…I rather like that."

[ehlnofay]

There is a pie on the table.

Not part of one – a whole pie, its crust flaky and steaming, one of its sides beginning to split, leaking its innards onto the serving plate. A whole pie. On a table set for eight. And Torr doesn’t think that Babette even eats.

A whole pie. And sliced turnips, baked with melted cheese, also hot enough to steam; a dish of them. Torr briefly considers stealing it – stupid idea, where would he even take it? What would he do with it? It would be difficult to explain later. Right now his main goal is to not do anything difficult, at least until he’s got more of a sense of the place, of its boundaries. What’s expected. What to expect.

And they’re immediately cocking up that goal, because when invited to a friendly welcome lunch they stopped dead in the middle of the floor to stare wide-eyed at the table.

Veezara, standing behind them, raps politely on their arm with his knuckles. “Do you want to sit?” he asks; Torr has no bloody clue what they want right now – shovel turnips into their face, face stuck into the dish like a pig eating from a trough, maybe, or alternatively to steal the pie and hide it somewhere it will be safe to come back to on a rainy day – but people are sitting (that is generally what is done at lunch tables) so Torr casts a quick glance over the lot of them and sits too.

(He doesn't want to make them wait.)

His chair is one of the ones closest to the doors. It’s quite far down the table from Astrid, who is smiling encouragingly; but Veezara sits next to him seemingly without a thought and sitting directly opposite him is Babette, and Torr's spoken a little to them both. He can't make any claim as to knowing either of them well, but Veezara seems even-keeled and open enough as to be a little reassuring, and Babette, at least has made him laugh.

Next to Babette is Gabriella, her dark hood pulled low over her forehead. She has a perpetually secretive look about her face – one brow slightly raised, lips slightly curled – as if she knows something no-one else does, and the way she looks at Torr makes him think of the way people look at bugs. Not in a bad way – she looks at him in the way people fascinated by bugs look at bugs – but still, he’d rather not be a bug. She catches their eye, half-smiles. “You brought your bag to the table,” she observes.

Torr glances at the floor, where his pack spills out from under his seat where he’s stowed it. Shit. They probably should have left it on the bed Veezara said was theirs, but they honestly didn’t think to; they don’t really want to leave it behind, besides.

“Yeah,” he replies, and nudges it further under his chair with his foot. He feels painfully and awkwardly observed.

(They're all watching; Torr's been here for less than a day, and he's trying to get a sense of the place, and until he understands how it works he needs to keep his head down.)

A tall man wrapped in red readies a gleam-edged knife over the pie platter. At the other end of the table, Astrid smiles. It’s a scimitar of a thing. “You’ve all met our newest Sibling, then?” she asks, in her molasses-rich voice, and the knife sinks into the flesh of the pie in a way that makes Torr want to wince. His stomach feels shaky.

There are various noises of assent from around the table. Torr’s met most everyone by now, all but the white-blonde man sitting silent and displeased by the head of the table, though he hasn’t spoken with most of them for more than a few minutes. Gabriella reaches across the table and levers a slice of pie onto her plate with the carving knife, already sticky with the juices leeched from the meat, torn-up flakes of pastry clinging to the side of the blade. It smells nice.

(It is, Torr tells themself, a normal-sized slice of pie. The same kind of portion sizing they’ve always seen in taverns busy enough not to kick them out. And realistically – based on the numbers Astrid showed them earlier – there’s plenty of room in the Brotherhood’s budget, for, what even are the ingredients of that, flour and meat? Water? It can stretch to cover the turnips no problem.)

“We’ve spoken,” says the man from the kitchen – Nazir, that was it. The tall one, with the gold in his beard. He sounds unimpressed. He does not seem like someone who is often impressed. Gabriella passes on the knife; Torr's eyes track its movement. It's an unconscious effort, but they're stuck – in this moment, breaking bread with a close-knit household of people whose only commonality is a predilection for violence, they cannot stop paying attention.

“Lovely,” Astrid says. Her eyes flash in the torchlight as she turns to face Torr. “Torr, do you feel like you’re getting to know everyone? Settling in?”

Torr manages a quick glance around the table, the room as a whole. They’ve learned most everyone’s names and feel reasonably confident nobody’s going to start screaming at them or start doing blood rituals or something; nobody's going to do anything unprovoked, which is enough of a comfort. They’ve mostly learned the layout of the Sanctuary, too – this bit of the cave opens into the dormitory sort of space just up above, and the big room a bit to the left, the kitchen tucked away in the corner. As cave rooms go, the dining space is quite nice; warm light, lots of room, a relatively even floor. It’s not damp in here like it is in the big room with the little pond. It’s nice and dry. Torr could probably do without a bed – they could kip under the dining table and be fine. (They’ll still take the bed if it’s offered, though.)

“Mostly, yeah.” Torr watches the sticky-dark knife getting passed around the table, the beautiful enormous pie disappearing at a rate that isn’t alarming and is in fact a normal speed for things to be eaten. His throat is dry. “Uh, Veezara showed me the beds and everything. It’s a nice place.”

The old man sitting up the other end of the table pauses, his fork stuck into a slice of turnip. “I hope you don’t think you’re being smart, boy.”

Like Torr’s fool enough to try to be snarky about this. Like they'd try to act smart now, of all times, when he's still feeling out the limits.

“Nah,” he says, tapping narrow fingers against the edge of the table. The ends of them are flushed red; scars from old chilblains, an irritated colour that never goes away. He is breathing evenly; a scraping breath in, one, two, three, a steady breath out. Cave or not – “It’s got a roof, hasn’t it?”

It’s warm – almost stiflingly so – and dry in parts. The rain and snow and wind can’t get in. There’s a whole pie served at the lunch table. Hundreds in gold if he does his job right. What the hell is he going to complain about?

There’s a nudge against his shoulder that is too surprising to make him flinch; when he looks, Veezara is holding out the knife, handle-first. “Oh,” he says; he takes it, because what else is he going to do?

There’s one slice left on the platter, rich and dripping, and plenty of the turnip dish. Torr’s stomach is folding in on itself. They ask Babette, “Are you going to have any?”

“Oh,” she says, “goodness, no,” and she smiles wide, vicious teeth pressing into her lower lip. “No offense to Nazir’s cooking, of course. But my appetites are a tad more discerning.”

Torr replies, “Well, that’s disturbing,” and Babette laughs, and Torr is left gripping the knife hard enough to turn red-flushed knuckles white and staring at the food on the plate. Clumsily sliced pastry, the meat and juices spilling out, running down the sides. Still steaming, just a little. There’s no one else to eat it – most everyone else already served and waiting for them. There’s no-one near who needs it more. But Torr doesn’t quite need it, do they? Not yet. But everyone’s waiting. And good first impressions and all that. And Torr really wants some pie – they just also want to shove it all away, or lock it in a box to save for later.

“Are you not hungry?” Nazir asks, something not unlike challenge in his voice, and Torr is supposed to be keeping his head down. He can't be pushing it already.

It takes Torr a few seconds to even realise that they were spoken to at all. They’re very busy staring at the platter, knife dripping onto their knuckles.

“No,” he says, “I am,” and then Veezara’s cold-scaled fingers are on his hand and he’s taking the carving knife from him, and Torr's shoulders lock in place, breath catching in the base of his lungs – he dithered too long and now they're taking it away – but Veezara lifts the last of the pie on the flat of the blade and drops it, rather squishily and without ceremony, onto Torr’s plate.

Staring at it, Torr says, “Thanks.”

Veezara shrugs and takes up his fork.

The pie is nice, though it takes Torr several seconds to work up to having a bite. He doesn’t know much about cooking, so he can’t pick out each individual taste – but the meat might be veal, or at least pretty similar to how he assumes veal tastes, and it’s good. It sticks in his throat when he swallows. He can hear all the clinking of cutlery around him, twitching at every sound.

Babette, the only one without a plate, leans eagerly over the table, fine dark hair puddling on the wood below her chin. “Astrid told us she pulled the old choose a victim gambit with you,” she says. “I love that one.”

Torr presses their lips together, digs their fork into the misshapen lid of their pastry. “The three innocents in the shack? I didn’t.”

“Innocents?” Gabriella echoes, tilting her head. Her hood slides back from her brow just enough that Torr can see the light playing off the ridge of her forehead; she takes a neat bite and adds, “Wasn’t part of that game that they weren’t?”

Nasty game. An unnecessary piece of showmanship. Torr doesn’t say so, of course. “I think the game was that it didn’t matter,” he says instead, and shrugs, fingers playing at the fork stuck in the pastry lid. His pie slice is warping, spilling its insides over the pottery of his plate. The conversation twists his stomach into knots. “It probably doesn’t matter much now. They’re dead, right?”

He’d specifically suggested that Astrid let the ones left alive stay that way, but she hadn’t seemed all too amenable to it. And from a practical perspective – well, letting them go would just be a liability.

Up the other end of the table, Astrid nods once, vague amusement pulling at the corner of her mouth. Torr feels, strongly, that he has made some very bad life decisions.

(But they’re very bad life decisions that have led to ledgers that record payouts of over a thousand septims and a whole pie at the lunch table. He’ll live.)

Torr looks back at their plate. “It was supposed to be about readiness to follow orders more than about who was and wasn’t meant to die. I think. But all it really proved was the lengths I’d go to to get out of a locked room.” The tines of their fork scrape against a chunk of meat. “And, really, that’s not surprising. I’ve probably done worse for less.”

They immediately regret saying it. Babette’s eyes light up, and they know they’ve opened up an uncomfortable topic. “Have you?” she asks brightly, and sits up straight, shaking out her hair. “For what?"

It’s not an easy line of questioning from anyone, but it’s particularly uncomfortable asked by a girl in a grass-stained kirtle, sitting in a chair too high for her feet to touch the ground. Torr sticks his tongue into his cheek, asks, “Is this dinner-table talk?”

“It’s shop talk,” Gabriella replies.

Babette smiles with all her teeth.

Torr doesn't want to talk about this. Torr's not a snivelling child, or some moralising grundy who assumes that they're in danger of being gutted like the game for the pie at a moment's notice – the worst anyone has been so far is taciturn, it would be absurd to extrapolate so hugely – but it would be equally absurd not to be wary, and Torr is well used to keeping a watch when an unfamiliar situation could begin to turn sour. They want to keep to safer topics, easier things to talk about; they also don't want to say no.

“It’s not exciting,” he hedges, twisting his fork between his fingers; Babette stares until he continues. “Guards, more often than anything else, when I got arrested or – or other people did. People who would've hurt us, or we just needed out of the way." It's as close to a non-answer as he can give while still complying, staring into the smooth filling of the pie.

“How pragmatic,” Veezara says, focused steadily on his meal.

“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t need to.” The pastry lid of Torr’s pie slice is slowly shredding into little pieces scattered around their plate.

Babette tuts. "I suppose I can understand that," she says, fingers pressing into the table; the rest of them watch with unsettling attention. "I wonder – you're young. You must have started about when I did."

Torr shrugs, noncommital; makes a pitiful attempt at changing the subject. “This pie is really good – Nazir, right?”

Nazir does not blink. “That compliment would carry more weight if you’d actually eaten any.”

Torr presses his lips together; manages to scoop some filling onto his fork and spend several seconds chewing. Babette keeps staring at him, unblinking; when he swallows, he says, "Ten years old with a beard knife," because he doesn't want to say no directly and he hopes there won't be any follow-up questions.

Babette’s face lights up. “Oh, really? I was almost ten years old with teeth.” The torchlight is flashing off the points of her fangs. “What a delightful coincidence.”

Torr shrugs and turns his attention back to his plate.

“If we’re talking business,” Astrid says silkily, a much smoother subject change than Torr’s earlier half-hearted attempt, “then I should ask – Nazir, do we have any smaller contracts open that might suit our dear new Sibling?”

The torchlight flashes off the gold in Nazir’s beard as he tips his head, considering. “I’m sure we do,” he says, “though I’d have to check our records. There are a few that I don’t think anyone requested I assign them lingering.”

Babette knocks her foot into Torr’s shin under the table (with considerable effort; she has to slide down so far in her chair to reach them that they can’t see her chin.) “You’re getting the dregs,” she says sympathetically. Her gleaming eyes don’t look particularly pitying.

Nazir tuts at her, slicing off a bite of his pie. “It’s only fair. He’ll have to be here longer than half a morning if he wants the glamorous jobs.”

“I’m fine without the glamour.” They’re not particularly confident in their ability to kill with the stereotypical panache that may be expected with whatever jobs qualify as glamorous. They’ll take the simple work.

“Good,” Astrid says definitively. “You’d be surprised at how much of our work is correspondence. Cutting deals. You know, the boring parts. Not that you’d be assigned to do any of that just yet.” Her head snaps up, blonde hair rippling over her shoulder. “Oh, that reminds me – I got word from our contact in the Three Coins. New intel, hopefully. Any takers?”

Torr, who barely knows what she’s talking about, stays silent, pushing his fork around his plate and gathering a third bite of almost all pastry. It’s the white-blonde man in the seat next to Astrid who speaks up (bit of a surprise, that – Torr doesn’t think he’s even heard him talk yet), saying gruffly, “I’ll go. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Nottov.”

Babette grins, fingers pressing against the table. “How sweet. Reconnecting with your little friend.”

The man bristles; Astrid, smiling, says, “Don’t be mean, Babette.”

“Me?” Torr’s only known her for an hour and change but even so they’re already beginning to tell when she’s playing it up – leaning into the rounded, girlish bubble of her voice, opening her eyes as wide and childlike as they’ll go. “I would never!”

“She would never, Astrid,” Gabriella agrees solemnly.

The old man almost audibly rolls his eyes. The white-blonde one is glaring so hard he seems to be trying to set fire to the table with the sheer power of his unrestrained rage. Torr takes a fourth bite to stifle a laugh.

Then, as they all keep chattering, shifting from shop talk to inside jokes and strange banter, Torr released slowly from the vice of their attention, they take a fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth. At the tenth, they stop counting.

It’s not neat. Their slice of pie was a bit lopsided to begin with, and it’s spent a while cooling on their plate, slowly spilling its innards out onto the ceramic. They managed to shred most of the pastry lid with the tines of their fork. And it isn’t that Torr doesn’t know how to eat with utensils – it’s just that they’re a tad out of practice, let’s say. Even in the short time they spent living in Aventus’ house they never brought themself to eating off a plate. It felt too easy.

Torr’s a bit out of practice, and he rips the pie apart as he eats it, crumbs and sauce strewn over the plate and a little over the table space between the dish and the edge where he sits. A little over his lap. He eats it bite after bite after bite after bite, each one begun before he’s even fully swallowed the last, and when he’s done he runs a sticky finger around edge of the plate, collecting the scraps, licking them off. His throat aches. Veezara, who is at the time in the middle of the sentence, reaches out for the platter of sliced turnip without breaking the thread of his conversation and slides it all onto Torr’s now empty plate. Their teeth are stained with gravy; there's a lump growing abruptly in their throat. They dig in to that, too. They wouldn't want to be rude.

It's so warm down here, the fires in the braziers ever-flickering, the food fresh-cooked. Torr is left in surplus and in silence to watch the rest of them chatter and laugh. It's nothing like a house in frozen Windhelm, clutter-full of waifs and strays; but Torr's stomach isn't so tight, his lungs relaxing enough to take in a full breath. He could be in any bunkhouse, dining with any unfamiliar clan. His throat aches. He could be okay.

(An hour and a half later, Gabriella finds him throwing up into the dank, mossy corner of a dark hallway.

“Oh,” she says, her voice shaded with distaste. “Okay.”

Torr wants to reply – to beg some sort of pardon, keep his head down, soothe the anxiety twisting in the hollow of his chest – but he’s a bit preoccupied by retching up his entire intestines into the dirt. His vomit tastes of rancid veal. It’s not nice; he’d forgotten how gross this was. The last few times he was sick like this he hadn’t eaten enough for it to taste of much of anything.

He hopes this doesn’t put him off the pie. It was really good.

He catches his breath – yuck – wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, gasps out, “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Gabriella says, satin-smooth.

It’s not fine, though; this is a shit first impression. Or second, third. Whatever. “Sorry,” Torr repeats. They twist their head to try to take a breath that doesn’t smell of half-digested meat. “Didn’t mean to make a mess. Just – ate too much.” They haven’t gorged themself like that since – who even knows, actually? It was more at once than they’d normally have in a day. Even when they had that much food – well, there was always someone who needed it more, wasn’t there?

They’re about to apologise again, but their stomach spasms and they lean over their nasty little puddle again, gagging.

“Okay,” Gabriella says. She has a soothing voice. Her hand, placed calmly on the ridge of Torr’s back, is cool to the touch. “Maybe you should slow down at dinnertime, then?”

She says it like it’s an inside joke, but it grabs Torr by the throat. More food. More food again, today; more food any time they want it. It’s a concept understood only in the abstract. “Dinnertime,” he repeats distantly, half wonderstruck; and then he’s sick again.)

[glitterslittleuniverse]

Not without you (part 1)

Summery: Seungcheol is called for a meeting where he learns some shocking news that could change everything.

Warnings: none

Year: 2014

Note: My first writing for my Seventeen oc's. The girls aren't in this chapter but they are mentioned and make a small appearance at the end. I know I'm not the best writer so please bear with me. I would really appreciate some feedback and comments. I hope you enjoy :)

Seventeen oc's Masterlist

To say Choi Seungcheol was nervous was an understatement. Heck, he thought he might just faint as he made his way to Mr Han's office. The CEO of Pledis Entertainment, this must be important if he wanted to meet with him, but the thing that threw Seungcheol off was that he was called to this meeting alone, without Haerim.

They had shared confused looks when a staff member came to the training room and told Seungcheol that Mr Han wanted to see him. Haerim asked if they were sure the CEO didn't want to see her too, but the staff confirmed that he only asked for Seungcheol. This seemed unusual to them. Usually when they were called for meetings they went together, since they were both leaders of Seventeen. Seungcheol was bewildered as to why Haerim wasn't wanted for this meeting. What could they possibly say that they don't want her to know? This thought made another wave of nervousness wash over Seungcheol. He was trying hard not to overthink the situation but the closer he got to the office the more anxious he became.

So many 'what it's' were going trough his head as he knocked on the door. Hearing a voice telling him to come in, he took a deep breath to calm himself down before entering the room. He was met with the CEO of Pledis, who sent him a kind smile and motioned for him to take a seat in front of the desk.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here." Mr Han said after Seungcheol had sat down in front of him.

"Yes sir." Seungcheol answered shortly, hoping the CEO won't take too long to get to the point.

"I won't keep you long, I just wanted to talk to you about Project Seventeen. You are aware that Seventeen is intended to be a co-ed group?"

Seungcheol nodded. He had a bad feeling he knew where this was going.

"Through Project Seventeen we planed on debuting the top seventeen trainee's. We didn't think I would end up so.... unbalanced."

Unbalanced. That word didn't sit right with Seungcheol. It was true that they lost more female trainees resulting in a large gap between male and female members. He had to admit thirteen boys and four girls does seem like unfavorable numbers. But he never saw a problem with it and the members never complained. It's been this way for quite some time now and the girls got along with all the boys very well. They've even been living in the same dorm as the boys for over six months now without too much drama. Sure the male to female ratio was uneven but he wouldn't say they were unbalanced. Sighing, Mr Han continued.

"Nothings been decided yet but the board and I have been discussing removing the girls from the line up and debuting Seventeen as a boy group instead."

Wait, what? Seungcheol's heart sunk at the CEO's words. They're gonna kick the girls out?

"Why are you telling me this?" Seungcheol had a lot of questions. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. I seemed so absurd.

"Listen Seungcheol, I just wanted to let you know what we're talking about and that it could happen. You've all been working so hard and I didn't want to drop the news on you all so suddenly."

"Then why didn't you call Haerim in too? Shouldn't she know about this?" Seungcheol asked, getting a bit irritated by the whole situation.

"Yes but..." Mr. Han hesitated for a moment, seeming to look for the right words. "I think she would take it better if it came from you. We both know Haerim can be difficult sometimes."

Difficult. Another word that didn't sit right with Seungcheol. Yes, Haerim can be stubborn and a pain to work with sometimes but under all that is a good hearted leader who only wants the best for the team. Sure, leading the group with her had been challenging and they've argued more then a few times but over the past few years he's really got to know her and has become very fond of her. There's a lot of words he'd use to describe Haerim but difficult isn't one of them.

He couldn't remember what was said after that, mind and heart racing with thoughts of Haerim and the members. What if they decided it won't work with the girls after all? What would happen to them then? As Seungcheol made his way back to the training room, the more he thought about it the more it dawned on him what might really be happening. Mr. Han's words rang in his head. Unbalanced. Difficult. Intention. What exactly was the intention for Seventeen? Was it even the plan to debut a co-ed group from the beginning? Did they think they wouldn't notice when they stopped adding female trainees? Was it their plan to add more boys until the girls had dropped out completely then get rid of the few remaining? Was this whole thing just a set up to draw the publics interest? I didn't make sense to Seungcheol, who's frustration seemed to grow the more he thought about it.

Arriving back at the training room Seungcheol's eyes immediately went to the four girls in the room. Seohyun was sitting with Seungkwan and Chan, laughing at their jokes and watching the other members mess around. His eyes then traveled to Kyungmin, who was talking with Wonwoo, Myungho and Hansol in the corner. Then to Yejin standing with Seokmin, Mingyu and Joshua in the middle of the room. They seemed to be recreating a scene from a drama but he's learned not to question the antics of the members. His gaze then went to her, Haerim, standing with Soonyoung and Jihoon at the computer, going over a video of the routine they were learning. Soonyoung said something that made her laugh and even with the noise of all the teenagers in the room it was as if her laughter was all he could hear. The sound made is anger disappear but instead feelings of guilt took it's place. How was he going to tell her? She loved this group and knew she would be devastated to have to say goodbye. How could he tell her when she and the other girls worked so hard for their dream only to be kicked out like they didn't matter? Then the boys would continue like nothing happened? Like they were never here. No, he won't let that happen. He would prove it. They will prove that they can be strong no matter the difference between boys and girls. So the numbers aren't perfect but that doesn't mean they can't be.

"Is everything okay?" A voice asked from beside Seungcheol. Jeonghan, who had been watching the leader since he came in, saw the way his eyes moved over the girls and was beginning to worry something might be wrong. Turning to his friend, Seungcheol tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"It's fine." He said, turning back towards Haerim, watching as she practiced some dance moves with Soonyoung. "Everything's going to be okay."

[butter-pangcake]

so, here the translated fanfic of BO!Hiro

I tried my best!

DetCo OS #1

Pairing: HiroRei (kinda)

[First encounter]

-side ∅-

Shortly after the sound of gunfires; Furuya was able to pinpoint the location of the sniper. Hidden by an old iron door's shadow, he watches his target sweeping anything that might act as evidence conneted to them into a large bag.

The NPA police officer tightened silver gun in his hands before slowly sneak behide their back. As his arrival was expected, that mysterious figure turn quickly facing him with a rifle in hands ready to fire at any moment. If he responds a little too late by now, he probably got a bullet hole in his head as a souvenir to the next life.

They stood still for a long time. Furuya noticed that; though person in front of him didn't make any sound, they are in contact with someone. If they had friends around here, he had reinforcements prepared too. Examined the half hidden face under black cloth and hoodie, looking for any opportunity to use it to his advantage.

Suddenly, sound of running up steel stairs erupt. Its only draws their attention for a fraction of a second. Corner of his eyes, he saw the rifle's barrel move. Furuya shoot as a response. The bullet pierced trough the air bearly missed the sniper's head that ducked down. They turned over and drew their strong legs, kicks his ankle while he caught off guard, causing him to fall on the floor hard. Before carrying both rifle and the bag jumped off the building, quickly disappeared.

He hurriedly get up while suppress the pain. Hands grasp the edge of the wall for support, looking down at the street below, his eyes dart everywhere for that light-colored hoodie, but to no avail. They're gone.

'Damn...'

Furuya cursed, tried to remember their face. But only eyes weren't enough to identify someone.

He drops himself against the cold wall; shook his head to other officers whose followed him here, assure them that he was alright.

Even though he seens it with his own eyes that they had already cleaned the surrounding where they were. But he still ordered the forensic team to investicate the area just to be sure if anything comes up.

If we meet again, I swear; I won't let them escape again

-side ???-

When the sound of the triggers quiet down, Strong hands immediately grab the scattered equipments on the floor and began to pack into the bag. Because soon, the place where he is; will be the target instead.

Or get ready to deal with whoever hides behind that door.

.

FBI? CIA? Or will it be a Japanese police? Now he didn't care about that. If a person with vivid hair contrasts with the night, begins to move. His finger that resting on the trigger will not hesitate to shoot.

'My, are you having a hard time there?'

A sweet voice full of poison can be heard from the earpiece. That woman's watching them through a surveillance camera somewhere.

'I'm guessing, that young man hasn't seen your face yet?'

Silent, not saying anything for the officer to hear, and risk recognizing his voice. Despite frustrating sound at the end of the line

'Hurry up and get out'

The light-colored eyes slightly widened, confuesd. Why? Can't I just shoot him down? But he can only listen.

'I know, I know…but we have to use him to play his role'

Plans of the above again, It's useless to questions.

He wants to sigh all the air out of his lungs, but he must find a way to escape from this person in front of him first.

And it seems that luck is on his side. The sound of footsteps hitting the steel stairs broke the tension between them. When those ocean-blue eyes move, even so little as to be barely noticeable is enough.

He drew his weapon back. Dodge a handgun bullet that passes a few centimeters over his head, proceeds to kick opponent in his right ankle.

Dosen't cares how that person falls, arms lift rifle resting on his stiff shoulder. Ran to the bag that was prepared before hand; makes sure to collect it, then jump over the walls of the building onto the balcony from the rooftop to the ground. Before quickly moves and vanishes into the darkness without wasting time looking back at all.

.

'Vermouth'

When leaving the scene far enough. Black cloth that covering his lower face was pulled down. A sharp face adorned with thin beard on the chin and both jawlines appear.

He let out a deep, low-pitched roar at the other end of the line; irritated.

'Still kicking, as expected'

A carefree voice respones.

As she heard a heavy sigh, stopped then continued.

'Sorry, but you have to gently play with him for now.'

'…dying is the limit, then'

He makes a cold smile. At least next time they met, he would have other options besides escaping with empty hands.

Soft laughter as if looking at something entertaining can be heard.

'Have fun~'