#there would be no case or number they couldn't save

[mrs-kmikaelson]

The Pause

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader, Derek Morgan x reader Summary: 6 times Derek and Hotch call while he's in Pakistan, and 5 times they talk about you. Warnings: assistant!reader, angst and fluff, back in the s6-s7 gap, references to doyle arc, cm-level violence Eps incl: S7E1 (it takes a village) Words: 2K

Series Masterlist | CM Masterlist | Navigation

Morgan and Hotch set up a system before he left: weekly calls. Not so often that it felt meddling or that it interfered with Hotch's work, but enough so he could still guage how his team was doing. Sometimes (more often than not), they'd miss a call if the team took a case.

They only talked about what was happening in Quantico. Derek would ask about Pakistan, to be polite, but he never got any straight answers.

Call #1

Derek threw a rubber ball into the air, catching it. "So how are things over there?"

On the other end of the line, Hotch barely hesitated. "Hot. Any new cases recently?"

"Yeah, we had a serial in Manassas. 3 victims. Found the unsub, shut it down, saved the fourth victim," he recapped, saving the actual details of the case. These calls weren't long enough for that. "I've got Y/N scanning to see what we're doing next."

There was a pause. No profiler wouldn't have noticed. Then— "How is she?"

They both heard the way he asked, like he didn't want to. Like he knew he shouldn't, but couldn't help himself. 

Morgan sighed. "She's fine," he said. Knowing Hotch wouldn't be satisfied with that, he added, "She's working." He left out the part where you drank in Hotch's office the day you found out he left, or how your concealer didn't cover the sleepless nights anymore.

"Working," Hotch repeated, sounding like he was testing the word, trying to figure out what it meant. He cleared his throat. "Right. Would you get her on the line next time? I'd like to speak to her."

Morgan agreed, "Yeah, I'll tell her." He didn't say that he didn't think you'd want to be there, and he didn't say why.

They both knew why.

"Update me on the next case."

"Will do."

Call #2

Derek started setting up the phone to call Hotch when you walked into his office.

"Hey, Morgan, I think I have a case for us," you said, glancing down at your tablet. You were settling into this new role seamlessly, fulfilling multiple responsibilities simultaneously without taking credit. Derek made a mental note to talk to you about that.

He looked up at you, knowing the case would have to wait. "I'll look at it in a sec." Remembering Hotch's request to him, he held the phone out to you. "I'm about to have Hotch on a secure line. You can brief him on the case, too, if you want?"

He saw the second your face dropped and knew automatically what your answer would be. He'd already brought it up to you before, and Hotch had asked to speak to you two phone calls ago, but your answer would still be no.

"No, that's alright. I'll e-mail you the file."

You were turning around before your name could even finish exiting his mouth, leaving him to sigh. 

He didn't blame you for not wanting to call. He just didn't know how to explain that to his boss. He wasn't sure if you knew how to explain it, either.

He began to dial the number, anyway. Hotch answered on the third ring. 

"Hotchner."

"Hey, man. We're about to take a case." He opened his tablet, finding your e-mail instantly. "Kentucky."

"Okay. Has Strauss spoken to you at all?"

Morgan's face contorted in displeasure, knowing he'd have to say your name. "No. Barely. Y/N's been handling all administrative communications."

Yet another pause from Hotch, even though he normally had rapid-fire questions. Derek used that opportunity to skate around the potential questions about why you weren't there. "The rest of the team is fine. Reid's bouncing back, I think. Garcia's picking up new hobbies like they're stuffed animals. Rossi's... Rossi."

"And Seaver?"

Derek almost forgot about her. "She transferred over to Domestic Trafficking. Swann requested her." He shrugged. "It's tough with a team of 4, but we're making ends meet." 

Derek didn't mean for that to be a jab, but the way Hotch inhaled slightly told him it came of that way, anyway.

Hotch didn't mention it. "Okay. Call me if anything happens."

Derek nodded like Hotch could see him, already getting up to head to the briefing. "I will."

Call #3

"JJ's back with the team. She's training to be a profiler," Derek said. "It's the only way the brass allowed her back. We argued we needed someone with previous profiling experience, and JJ had just the right amount."

Both Morgan and Hotch knew that when he said 'we,' he meant you. But Hotch didn't question that. "Okay, that sounds fine. It's good for the team."

"It is. I'm surprised the State let it happen." Another thing Morgan left out was that, even if it was good for the team, he wasn't sure it was good for you. But he was getting good at leaving those details out. He felt less bad each time.

But Hotch knew better. "How's Y/N taking it?" he asked.

Derek closed his eyes. Of course, he'd know. He wondered why Hotch would leave if he knew you so well, but many of his questions didn't have answers these days.

"She's... adjusting," he responded. "It's a pretty big jump. But she's doing most of the communications work. JJ only helps here and there."

"Does she need the help?" He was still asking about you.

Derek didn't have to think about his answer. "No. She's a natural for this kind of stuff. It's like she's been doing it her whole life." 

He wondered how often you had to clean up messes or spin stories to get so good at it. He figured Hotch would have better insight.

You worked for Hotch when he was still a prosecutor. He knew you. He knew what leaving would do to you after so many changes had already happened within the team.

But he did it, anyway.

In that regard, Morgan could understand why you refused to take part in these phone calls. He understood why you were sitting in your office at that very moment, knowing this call was taking place, yet you still kept your distance.

His cellphone chimed with a message, making him look down at it. It was listed with your contact.

Case.

The call had to be cut short. "Hey, we just got a case. I have to go."

Hotch said the same thing he said every time. "Okay. Update me with what happens."

"Got it."

Call #4

Derek tapped the telephone against the desk rhythmically. He didn't want to make this call. But he knew he had to.

He brought the phone to his ear, clicking the numbers the way he always did. Three rings.

"Hotchner."

"It's Morgan," he greeted. "We finished up that case in Charleston."

"And? How'd it go?"

Derek hesitated. "Y/N ended up taking the unsub down."

He could hear Hotch's face twist through the phone. "Y/N?"

Morgan wet his lips and then he started explaining himself. "Unsub was Carter Wilson. We profiled he'd be irritable, insecure. We had him at his house, but he had the victim there. Our best bet was to send a woman in, and JJ was at his workplace. Y/N insisted—it was our only option."

He told himself that you insisted, that it was their only option, but he knew it was his call. It was his call that got you— "Was she hurt?" Hotch questioned. Not if Vanessa Peters was alive. Not if the unsub was alive. 

You.

Derek didn't sugarcoat anything. "Yes. The unsub cut her while she was taking him down. She ended up shooting him with her second gun."

Morgan knew exactly where you got the inspiration to keep a gun on your ankle. So did Hotch.

Hotch sighed. "She shouldn't be in harm's way," he said. It sounded like he was reprimanding you and Morgan as much as he was reprimanding himself.

"I know," Derek admitted. There was no other way to put it. But these were the risks of being in the BAU. The risk of being in the field meant you could get hurt. The risk of being given sidearms was that you'd eventually use them. But it was better than the risk of you not having a gun at all.

"Is she okay?"

Derek's lips twitched upward. This was the first time he felt like he didn't have to lie about your mental state. "Yeah. She was all smiles after."

Pause. Then, Hotch echoed, "That sounds like her." It was you.

It was all you.

Morgan and Hotch ended up being on the phone longer that night, even though not many words were said.

Call #5

"How's the team doing?" Hotch started.

Derek blew a breath through his lips. "Good. They're settling into a rhythm now." Rhythm. He tried not to think of how you danced with him in his office, how you kissed him as the beat dropped. He tried not to think of ride or die, or this is real for me.

It felt wrong, like betrayal. He knew there wasn't really anything to betray, nothing with a label, but there was something. Something neither you nor Hotch named. And so he felt guilty.

But he knew that, if Hotch found out in that moment, he couldn't apologize. He wouldn't. Not after finally finding out what it was like to kiss you. Not when Hotch had the chance and left.

So, really, he felt guilty for not feeling guilty enough.

"That's good," Hotch replied, not making any moves to extend it beyond that.

Morgan knew it was only a matter of seconds before he asked about you. It was never if—always when. So he spared Hotch the trouble and said, "L/N's been doing really good handling the press and local police." Using your last name was a form of distance; he could still feel your name on his lips from that morning. 

Hotch didn't need to know that. 

Slowly, Morgan told him, "I'm thinking of offering her the gig full time."

He was met with silence on the other end. He knew what he was proposing. He wanted to give you a position where you could be fully recognized for what you did. But doing so would also give you a position independent of Hotch.

Hotch had been doing this job with you for so long that Derek didn't know if he'd be able to do it without you. 

That's why he didn't think Hotch would even entertain the idea, let alone say yes. But when his voice sounded, softer than Morgan had ever heard it, he was proven wrong.

"I think that's a great idea."

Call #6

"Morgan, I didn't authorize this."

Derek fought the urge to sigh, jumping to defend himself and the cause he was arguing for. "I know you didn't, Hotch, but listen to me. I think Doyle may have found Declan, too."

Hotch responded just the way Morgan expected him to. "Alright, I'm coming back."

"You want me to wait?" he questioned.

"Morgan, it could be a trap. You make sure you have eyes on Doyle."

"And if it is him?"

"Then you take the shot."

"Okay." Derek hung up the phone thereafter, planning to go tell the rest of the team all the while thinking about what this meant. He was going to go find Doyle. And Hotch was coming back.

He didn't know what that meant for you—for the both of you.

You and Derek had been living in this pause, under the assumption that things would resume. It was the pause before Hotch would ask about you over the phone. The pause before JJ declared Emily was dead. The pause before you told him to kiss you again.

Now, Hotch was coming back, and that changed things.

The pause was over.

taglist: @saturnscomedown @percysley @c-losur3 @todorokishoe24 @lons-story-blog @pastaparker @ssa-danhotchner @rethasavedlives @alexxavicry @vivs30 @gael2020 @person-005 @mrsxyz480 @chasinghxran @hiireadstuff

link to join a fandom taglist → here

[poi-rinch-lover]

Imagine how epically awesome this team would be!!

[c-nstellati-ns]

APOLLO, GOD OF MUSIC ... — conquest x medic!superhero!m!reader prt.1

you were retired, for gods sake. why in the hell would everything go to shit exactly when you were on vacation? you struggled to even comprehend the fact that there were more than one invincibles flying around, and now the city was falling apart all around you? retired or not, there were people who needed help and that's what you planned to do, no matter how reluctant you were about it. ... so how the hell did you manage to get yourself wrapped up with the very alien who was turning this city into a fine dust?

> author's note — this is incredibly self-indulgent and the first time i've written in literal months LOL so sorry for being inactive for so long !! this was inspired by dj subatomic supernova from NSR, lucio from overwatch and luna snow from marvel rivals ... i love me a silly guy who makes music and heals people via that music :-) not that subatomic heals people ... more like ........ he tries to kill them via music and his planets ........ but whatever !!! this is irrelevant !!!!!! ( i was gonna have this be smut originally but i like where i ended off to continue into a part two soon ^_^ so sorry if anything is bad i am very rusty ... feel free to send me some thirsts in my inbox if you'd like! ) > word count — 1.6k > featuring — our fave viltrumite, conquest <3 > cw — intentional lower case, canon typical violence, unspoken death threats? nothing much really its mostly establishing how your relationship came to be before things get steamy LOL so sorry for the bait

MDNI. 18+ ACCOUNT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

you had parted ways with the GDA some time ago, marking it off as a need for something new. you could only fight so long, for so much. you had been in the spotlight ever since your powers had finally developed, being someone who could virtually heal anything with the power of music. it was rather silly in your eyes but it made you and anyone you wanted to protect virtually invincible. any wounds or injuries would mend in seconds in your presence, people feeling safe around you, other heroes feeling energised to keep on fighting. at some point, you felt the same way until… you didn't. it had only been a matter of time, after all.

the GDA was desperate to keep you so you kept their number just in case things were to happen. that is, until something finally did happen. it was a random tuesday, you think. you had been on the way to your hotel in the city for your little vacation, you had been waiting for so long for it. tapping into your savings from working with the guardians to afford it. you were happy, life was good. you had a nice car, a nice place far from the city, a couple dogs, cats, and one snake that you loved dearly. you were single, not that you minded much actually.

so what exactly happened? how the hell did your car end up split in half by falling debris and cradling the lifeless body of some innocent civilian that got extremely unlucky? you could barely wrap your mind around it.

it was hard to try and keep your music up enough to keep yourself safe, but to try and sweep in and aid those who were helpless was something else entirely. you let out a loud groan of frustration as you carefully set the body down somewhere undisturbed, making a mental note to come back for it later. you had to keep up, getting as many people out of there as you could, but there was always the few that escaped your grasp, all falling victim to some horrible fate that no amount of healing nor music could help. you couldn't get distracted.

you were glad you had kept the equipment the GDA had made for you, even gladder to have kept it close. the music coming off of the holographic speakers around you was loud, a beacon of hope in the midst of the destruction around you, but it kept people safe and you kept playing. you kept far away from the fighting as much as you could, ushering innocents away from their very close deaths. of course, you were putting a big ole target on your head with how loud it all was, but you couldn't care less. sounds waves were blasting anything that came your way, cracking open asphalt that trapped some poor kid underneath it all. you could spot the blood pooling next to him, his mother probably. you grimaced and carried him away, making sure to heal whatever cuts and bruises he had. thankfully, unharmed physically. mentally… you wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.

you were doing your job well, keeping things somewhat peaceful until you spotted a stray arm sticking out of some debris. you quickly flew over, pushing off any concrete that held this person down. your heart beating frantically in your chest, you dug as much as you could, hoping that they didn't die before you got there. you grabbed at their hand and pulled as much as you could, using your sound waves to blast at the concrete as you did so. you let out a sigh of relief as you felt the warm from their palm, squeezing it in reassurance. you passed your fingers over their wrist, trying to find their pulse but no dice. so you used your powers to heal whatever injuries they might've sustained, a soothing melody that has the person feeling mushy.

"hey, are you okay?!" you shouted over the chaos around you, hand reaching out to grip at their shoulder. you pulled as hard as you can, thinking to yourself, holy fuck this guy is heavy as hell. you were about to yell again until the hand grabbed at your own roughly, your joints creaking in protest as it did so.

"woah--" you couldn't even finish your sentence before a giant man emerged from the rubble in front of you. he was much, much taller than you, and built like a fucking tank. if you weren't scared shitless, you would have asked him where he worked out. your jaw dropped, staring at the stranger before you.

conquest was having fun with this. he was having fun with all of this! this planet's defences were as measly as he had imagined, so it wasn't a surprise when the creatures that inhabited it were squished by a simple rock to their soft spots. but he was pleasantly surprised by its defender. a halfbreed viltrumite, weak like all those other flesh bags, but much more resilient. the worm even got him to bleed, which was a surprise in itself.

so who was this, mending the little scrapes and bruises that his body has yet to heal? why did it feel… good? like a warm feeling throughout his body, a hum of a familiar tune that made him want to… sleep? what the hell was this? it feels odd, he feels light. lighter than he would when he's flying, it was something else entirely. the touch was soft, much unlike he's ever felt before. a gentle squeeze, a faint hold. it was a strange combination, nothing like he's felt before. he let out a rough grunt, grabbing at the hand that was given to him, rising from the rubble he was buried underneath.

conquest brought up the creature that had healed him by the arm, thick brows furrowed as he stared down at it. it was fearful, trying to wrestle out of his iron grip and escape. but the viltrumite was curious about it now, who exactly was this worm? and was it so stupid to not know its own enemy?

you were gonna throw up. of course, of course you healed the wrong person. just your luck that you had healed THE VERY FUCKING THING THAT WAS CAUSING ALL THIS DEATH AND DESTRUCTION IN THE FIRST PLACE. you let out a pained noise as his grip around your wrist tightened, trying to just get away. you could keep yourself safe when fighting anything but a viltrumite? this was something else entirely.

you were smarter than to try and use your offensive powers against him, so instead, you allowed yourself to play a somewhat scattered melody to heal the broken bones within your hand and wrist. he tilted his head to the side, examining you like a piece of meat. i suppose that was what you were now. a stupid, musical adept piece of meat for him to tear into.

closing your eyes, you couldn't believe this was the day you would die. you didn't even get to take your vacation.

… but nothing happens? it's been a couple minutes, he should've killed you by now. you crack your eye open and take a look at him, startled by his one eyed gaze. his pupils are slits, examining you like you were some foreign… thing. and then he smiles. it's an unsettling one, but he grabs you by the waist, a much gentler hold than what he had on your wrist.

"you're the foolish one who helped me, aren't you?" his deep voice rings out over your healing melody and the rumbling chaos around you both.

you're speechless for a moment before nodding frantically, looking around for anything, anyone. unfortunately, no dice. it was just you, him and the fuck metric ton of dead bodies that he caused around you.

"hmm…" conquest mutters to himself. it was a strange feeling, the closer you were to him, the more that strange warm feeling seeped deep into his bones. he couldn't help but let out a deep purr that rattled you silly. he was like a big cat to you, a big, murderous psychotic cat. with his arms around you, it was… comforting? in a really, really fucked up way. you swallowed thickly as you stared up at him as he smiled down at you, what the fuck is going on?

"what is your name, worm?" the stranger asked, examining your face closely as he spoke. your mouth was dry, gaping like a fish out of water. his arms was tightening around you the longer you took to answer him and you stammered out your full legal out of sheer nervousness. he didn't seem like a patient man at all.

he repeats it under his breath, it rolls off nicely on his tongue. his arms lighten around your waist, your ribs definitely bruised after all this. you let out a groan, brain too scattered to make a coherent melody to heal yourself. instead, you looked back to him as his grin widened. crooked teeth and a prominent scar, you would have called him handsome if you weren't actively in danger of being ripped apart by this alien.

"… perhaps lord thragg wouldn't mind if i kept a pet, hm?" conquest purrs, that metallic hand reaching up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "a healing songbird, doesn't that sound nice? my little songbird." you barely have enough time to speak before he takes off with you in his arms, away from the destruction and chaos that he caused.

mark was clueless as to why conquest had disappeared all of the sudden. in a blink of an eye, he was alone, beaten and bruised on the ground. it gave him time to breathe but it was nerve wracking to think about.

What the fuck just happened?

all works belong to c-nstellati-ns ⓒ 2025. do not steal, repost or feed into AI. ask before translating.

[dixonsbugaboo]

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦.

ꜱᴀᴊᴀ ʙᴏʏꜱ🎵

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝟢 - 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵

Fem!Reader x Saja Boys

Summary: Reincarnated in the body of a demon from the last film you saw before you died, you have decided to change the script of the story in your favour. But you didn't count on your presence in the story changing everything.

Warnings: slow burn, swearing, mentions of death, kinda cringe

Word count: 700+

A/N: the K-Pop Demon Hunter fever is SO ALIVE. I just need more content... so I decided to jump in the fanfic like many others to try and get something out... I have so many ideas!! I hope you like this one! No proofread btw, sorry about that

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

Every day was the same: feeling pity, torturing the human souls that Gwi-ma didn't devour, feeling anger, remembering a past too distant and painful, and trying to remember what had brought you to that point, to hell itself. It was a daily thing for you: a demon.

Or that would be the case if you really were a demon; that is, if you had sold your soul to Gwi-ma in a deal… but you never did that. You just… kicked the bucket. Dead meat. Gone. R.I.P.

You were born human, grew up and lived as a human all your life: a normal life. You studied art and decided to specialise in music production because of your passion for pop, especially Korean pop. You were good at it, but it wasn't easy to make a living, especially when you came from nothing and had no contacts. And just when life was starting to smile on you (a K-Pop girl group had heard one of your demos and wanted you to work with them to release it), you died. You didn't quite remember how… You had decided to celebrate that you had signed the production contract for the song, gone up to the roof of the building where you lived to have a drink… and then… did someone push you? who?

The fact is that you were now a demon. But at the same time, you weren't exactly you… At least, physically. Somehow, you had been reincarnated as a demon. It sounds strange, but that's how it was. You had their memories and yours at the same time. Strange that now your soul was in a body that had sold its own… But that's the way it was. Take it or leave it.

The funny thing is that, as far as you could imagine, Gwi-ma wasn't real in your world… nor were the hunters, nor any of those elements of the last movie you were able to watch (about seven or eight times) before you died. So not only were you reincarnated, but you were now WITHIN the world and plot of the movie. And in the body of the most secondary possible villain: unnamed demon number 435, or something like that.

And the worst part is that you knew exactly what was going to happen: Jinu would make a deal with Gwi-ma, gather a demonic k-pop boy band, meet Rumi, everything would go down the drain because of betrayals and misunderstandings… and you would be trapped under the barrier, or worse.

And that couldn't be.

First: you have already died once, and once is more than enough. You were miserable enough as a demon to continue that filthy life for centuries, or die before you could do anything about it.

Second: you knew the movie, you knew what was going to happen… and you wouldn't let Jinu and Rumi's relationship end that way. Jinu didn't deserve to ‘die’. You would do anything for that ship. Even sink in it if needed.

Third: … What if, since you could keep Jinu and Rumi as a real couple, you could also manage to pair Zoey and Mira with a member of the Saja Boys? Which, by the way, your curiosity was killing you; they hadn't had enough screen time, and you'd give anything to interact with them to really get to know what they were like. Hell, you'd love to talk to all of them (Jinu included) like you did with them. It would be a dream come true, wouldn't it?

And last but not least: What would it hurt to change the plot of the movie a little bit to save unnecessary drama and deaths (yours included)?

So you got down to work, notebook in hand, and started planning what you loved doing most: writing music.

You would produce a complete discography for the Saja Boys, make them successful, teach them that they could regain their souls (all of them, without exception), and together defeat Gwi-ma. No casualties.

All thanks to a skill you had had since you entered that body: Gwi-ma couldn't get inside your head. At all.

So ladies and gentlemen, it's time to turn the script around in your favour….

Or at least that was your plan, before you realised that your involvement in the story would change everything.

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

Ch. 1

A/N: Honestly, I don't know what to expect from this. It's literally an introduction to the story, so to speak. But the idea had been floating around in my head for some time and I needed to write it down as soon as possible. I hope you like it.

See you soon,

Nun🐇​

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ reason for my being

THIS IS A REPOST

sukuna x fem!reader

reformed!sukuna who was suddenly given emergency guardianship of yuji whose parents passed away in a tragic car accident. his grandpa was not in good health so sukuna became yuji's caretaker.

reformed!sukuna knew that his job of drug dealing and underground fighting would not be practical anymore. if he wanted to keep yuji in his care, he needed to get away from the life he's living now. he updated his resume and applied to every job opening he saw, hoping that one of them will offer him something.

reformed!sukuna took yuji out the day he got an offer from a grocery store for an inventory position. it was entry level, but they overlooked the huge gap in his resume (filled with illegalities that obviously he couldn't put down) and they paid a living wage. sukuna, despite having to adapt to new circumstances, did the best he could with what he had.

reformed!sukuna got your number from toji who told him that you babysit megumi all the time when he would have a fight. you never asked any questions and megumi really likes you, so sukuna calls you one night when his work asked him to work an overnight shift since someone called in. you arrive at sukuna's place quite early but it gives him plenty of time to run you down on yuji's bedtime routine. sukuna tells you that just in case you have a question, don't hesitate to contact him. not like he just wanted to text you or anything

reformed!sukuna felt like time went by so fast during that shift. maybe it was because he was anxious since he was away from yuji during the night. sukuna is thankful for your hourly updates of yuji with pictures. he doesn't care that almost all of them are yuji sleeping, but it gives him a sense of relief seeing that yuji is sleeping well beside you.

reformed!sukuna finally saved enough money to move to a better area for yuji. almost a whole year of working about 16 hours a day, but sukuna endured through it all. he got a 2-bedroom apartment with a bigger kitchen and more space for yuji to play around. the area he used to live in was not the safest, but now that he has yuji with him (and the cute babysitter you) he couldn't afford to jeopardize both of your safety by staying there.

reformed!sukuna sometimes brings food for you when he comes home from work. if he's feeling energetic, he'll whip up something for you and yuji. he's surprisingly a good cook contrary to his looks. since he's lived by himself for a long time and he went on meticulous diets to upkeep his weight for fights, he often cooked for himself. on days that he does cook, you and yuji wake up to the most appetizing breakfast you've ever had.

reformed!sukuna likes staying fit! like hello look at him, at least 195 cm (6ft 5) with a muscular frame, sukuna does not want to lose his build that he's worked so hard for. he's at his prime! it does help that the boxes he carries are heavy and he carries a minimum of 3, so he doesn't worry about letting himself go anytime soon.

reformed!sukuna still spars from time to time. when he's waiting for yuji to finish school or he just needs to blow off steam, sukuna finds himself heading back to the gym he used to train at. toji would egg him on saying that sukuna's not as good, but everyone knows that he's far from it. sukuna would punch toji a little harder everytime he insults him just to show that he's anything but washed.

reformed!sukuna knows he's intimidating to look at. with his huge stature and multiple tattoos, everyone avoids encountering the pink-haired man. so when you come over one night to watch yuji with bloodshot eyes and a bruise forming on your cheek, he couldn't just stand back and watch someone disrespect you. who else would watch yuji and give sukuna something to look forward to during gruelling days?

he ends up calling off from work because he wanted to know what happened. no way anyone would put hands on his sweet babysitter.

sukuna tries multiple times to ask what happened to you but each time you shrug him off. in true hardheaded sukuna fashion, he lets it go until he's alone with you. he waits for you to finish tucking on yuji, his legs shaking restlessly. he tries not to bite his nails, a habit he hasn't done in a hot minute.

he silently exhales when he sees you emerge from yuji's bedroom. the first thing he notices about you is the cartoon bandaid on your cheek, presumably from yuji who thinks that every injury can be fixed with a bandaid over it. he glances at you who's taken a seat on the other end of the couch.

"what happened?" sukuna breaks the silence. he doesn't mean to sound so gruff but he's not used to comforting others.

"I," you choke on your words but composed yourself quickly, "got jumped. they... they took my stuff so I couldn't pay my rent on time."

sukuna, a man of pride and ceaseless apathy, even felt his heartstrings tugged seeing you hold back tears.

"my roommate also hadn't given me their share of the rent for the last couple of months so I got evicted. I'm just glad that you let me stay here when I watch yuji." you try to laugh it off but sukuna's not stupid. you wave your hand in the air, "anyway don't worry about it. I'll find a way, I always do."

sukuna silently agrees because the whole time he's known you, you've always been as hardheaded as him. sometimes it's annoying, but he's secretly happy that he finally has someone to butt heads with. before he leaves you alone, he asks, "did you at least see who did it? maybe we can report them."

sukuna doesn't trust the police. he'd rather get justice on his own.

"yeah a bit. long hair and I think he had scars on his face. think he knows you because he called me your new bitch." anything else you said after that fell to deaf ears.

sukuna zones out. he knew only one person that matches your vague description.

he waits for you to fall asleep on the couch, putting a blanket over you when he sees you shiver a bit. he crouches down and brushes his hand softly over your bruise. the movement caused you to flinch in your sleep so he pulls his hand back, scared to bring you more unnecessary discomfort.

once he knows you and yuji are deep in sleep, he sets out quietly to his old neighbourhood. the street lights flicker, the smell of cigarette smoke and rusty metal is harsh on sukuna's nose since he hasn't been here in a while.

sukuna takes a turn at a narrow alleyway and kicks the door open. he scans the area and picks out a small group of people gathered in a circle. in the middle of it, he can make out the figure of your favourite bag, promptly putting together that that was your bag, dirtied and torn. the long-haired man rummaging through your belongings finally notices the sukuna who's busted through the door.

"sukuna! long time no-"

reformed!sukuna did not even let mahito finish his greeting, letting his fist make direct impact on the other man's cheek. it didn't matter that sukuna has been out of the fighting scene for a whole year, he still fought like the undefeated champion he previously was. he couldn't believe any of his opponents would stoop down so low that they'd jump someone who was so close to him.

reformed!sukuna made sure mahito understand that if he gets close to you or yuji ever again, he will not hold back. sukuna made sure he got back all the things mahito stole from you (and maybe a few thousand but that was compensation for the bruise mahito stupidly put on your beautiful face). he returned back home with all your items, glad to see that you and yuji are still sleeping well.

reformed!sukuna offers for you to stay at their place while you look for another apartment that's suitable for you. he would've recommended his old apartment but it was in a sketchy area, and he wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you're by yourself in that area. he eases all your questions, he'll sleep with yuji and you can stay in sukuna's bedroom.

reformed!sukuna trades in his beloved motorcycle for a sensible car that yuji likes. as hard as it was for him to hand over the keys to his baby, sukuna thought it was worth it seeing you sit with yuji in the back like a cute family. he slaps himself for thinking such thoughts and blames it on his exhaustion, but the thought stays in the back of his mind.

reformed!sukuna helps you get your things from your apartment. he made toji watch yuji for the day so that sukuna could focus on you for the day. he did all the heavy lifting (it weighed nothing to him ofc) and he refused to let you carry anything that wasn't already in your bag, so all you ended up just watching him move your things. after you both finished putting all your stuff away in the corner of sukuna's room, he asks if you want to have a late lunch with him. who would deny that scary cute face? he recently got a promotion with a salary raise, so he took you to this nice restaurant he's been hearing his coworkers rave about.

reformed!sukuna takes you out for a sweet treat after the meal. he knows you love it and after the terrible night you had, he believes that you deserve everything you want to make you feel better.

reformed!sukuna starts teaching you the basics of fighting when you both got home. yuji's doodling on the coffee table, his favourite cartoon show playing in the background, while sukuna makes you work on your stance.

"if you stand like that, you're not going to have a strong foundation," he sighs. you tilt your head to the side, "I've literally never had to fight."

"well now you need to practice now, you have to be able to at least defend yourself if I'm not around." sukuna's voice got quiet as he finished the sentence. he didn't want you thinking that he would always be with you, but he wouldn't mind if you did. he does like your company.

reformed!sukuna worries when he has to leave you and yuji for work. your hourly updates with pictures aren't enough anymore so he started video-calling you. he says that he feels better when he can see you two in real time but he guises his desire for you with concern.

reformed!sukuna likes listening to you yap. he's always been active listener despite his uninterested expression, so during times when you think no one's listening - well sukuna is. he started cooking your favourite dishes and if he didn't know them, he'd sacrifice his sleep to learn the recipe from youtube. when you walk on the sidewalk together, he always makes sure that he's the one closest to the street since he knows you have the irrational fear of cars swerving to the pavement.

reformed!sukuna is infatuated with how sweet you are with yuji. before he met you, the dates he went to ended abruptly everytime he mentions that he is taking care of nephew. they assume a man like sukuna wouldn't want anything to do with being a parent or a guardian and well sukuna did at first, but taking care of yuji has changed his perspective on life. he couldn't keep living recklessly so he changed himself for the better. even though it was difficult at first, sukuna's thankful that because of his guardianship of yuji, he met you.

reformed!sukuna is not big on words. he's not the best with expressing his feelings so people have assumed that he's an asshole. instead sukuna prefers showing his love through the food he puts effort making. he'll cut up fruits and even bakes pastries for you and yuji to snack on. he'll hold your hand when you're in a busy store so that you don't get lost. the most affectionate thing that sukuna does to show his love for you is when he cuddles with you during nights filled with terrifying dreams.

he hears yuji's door creak open and through gap, he sees the your figure. sukuna remembers your rambles of sleepless nights when all your dreams are the most vivid nightmares. he already knew what you were going to ask, but he saw you second guess yourself. before you could close yuji's door and head back to sukuna's bedroom, sukuna inserts his hand and holds the door open.

"I can stay in the bedroom with you, if you want. I'll stay until you fall asleep."

reformed!sukuna felt nervous. even during the most intense fights that he used to have where everything he had was on the line, sukuna felt more at ease then than he does now. he's asked out other women but is the thought of asking you making his palms sweaty? he hears the locks of the front door open, excited to see you and yuji walk through with his hand in yours.

"sukuna I have great news!" you exclaim, taking off your shoes and sitting on the seat of the kitchen table beside him.

he clears his throat, "I do too, but you go first."

"I got an apartment! they said I can move in as early as tomorrow!!" your visible excitement made it hard for him to swallow his thoughts away.

maybe reformed!sukuna should've told his news first.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this has been in my head for foreverrrrrr that I needed to get it out. I'm also kinda cheesed because I was getting to the juicy part and IT DIDNT SAVE !!! ;'(

the ending feels too similar to the first part of wanna be yours so I might change it ngl. this will have a pt 2 that's a written fic rather than headcanons so we'll see if I do change it

hope you guys enjoyed this! ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡

[kikithekiwi19]

Sloppy Toppy!

❛❛Fuck her, flip her, bend her backwards. Baby put your back into it!❜❜

Synopsis: After the Viltrumites took over Earth. You've caught the fancy of the brash emperor, becoming his most devoted supporter. Of course, good behavior must be rewarded.

Pairing: Mohawk Mark x Fem Chubby! Reader

Warnings: Porn with some plot, soft!mdom, vaginal sex, squirting, fingering, minor breeding kink? praise, teasing, power imbalance?

AN: Had this one saved in the drafts for a couple of months now 💀 So I doesn't really fit Mohawk Mark's characterization in the show.

Word Count: 2k

When the Viltrumites invaded Earth not too long ago, it was scary how swift it was. Government agencies all buckled under their tyranny. The world you once knew crumbled that moment, overthrown by the Viltrumites' iron rule.

You hated it first. The most natural response. The insistent monitoring of human affairs made your stomach churn. A nagging anxiety that never wavered, only increased tenfold with your new position.

‘Hired,’ to put it nicely, you took the position of loyal servant under the emperor. Serving to his every whim, at any moment in time. You took your job seriously, not wanting your insides plastered about. 

You were fond of your job, no matter how many reminders around you that shouldn't be the case. You couldn't count the number of servants who've been punished since you started. It was almost a daily occurrence.

You couldn't deny that working so close to the emperor himself didn't sweeten the deal. Developing an innocent crush on your tyrant.

He was undeniably handsome, sharp jawline and deep set of honey eyes. Too bad he was an ass. He was quick to anger, even more quick to spew threats thick with curses. 

Maybe you did have questionable taste in men. He's enslaved your home, took you up as a pet, yet here you were with flushed cheeks anytime his gaze lingered on your plump form.

Mark took notice of your obvious fondness towards him. It was laughable how poorly you tried to conceal it. The longing stares and flushed expression were dead giveaways.

 Not like he had any room to talk. Observing your every move as you completed your daily tasks; the sway of your plush hips, your tits and cute stomach that strained against your uniform that was a little to tight for you. The tension was palpable between you too.

It was a wonder how you found yourself in such a situation. 

Providing the young ruler with a nice massage. The empty throne room only intensified the growing warmth in your stomach. Your eyes flickered to the ripple of muscle along his shoulders, “You want to fuck me, don't you?” you blurted out. Not processing the question at all, running your hands along his broad shoulder blades.

Kneading the taut muscles with the palms of your hands. Mark groaned, leaning further back into your warm touch. He chuckled; his laugh sent a warm buzz through you. 

“Bold. I'd be crazy if I didn't,” you hummed, your gaze drifting to the curve of his neck. You leaned closer beside his ear, breathing in his natural musky scent. “Really? I'm afraid you'll have to prove it to me,” you muttered, nipping at his earlobe. 

In an instant he flipped you over, pinning you against the wall. “I knew my charm would get to you princess,” Mark snarled, tracing the juncture of your neck with his lips, pressing sweet kisses along her neck. You gasped, “Princess? ” 

“What? You don't like it?” he mused, delving back and suckling roughly against your skin, leaving purplish bruises behind. “Never said that.” You moaned softly from his warm hands, messaging your soft breast. Mark tweaked your perked nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his forefingers. 

You rolled your head to the side, providing him better access, “Means I get to make you a queen. My Queen.” He mumbled against her skin. His assault continued, reaching for the cool zipper situated on the back of your attire, tugging it with vigour and peeling it from your form.  Mark tugged the top of his suit off as well, wanting to feel the heat of your topless body against his own. 

His large palms took refuge back on your breast, messaging the doughy fat, “Love your tits, love looking at em’, been dreaming of sucking on them.”

Your sultry gaze remained fixed on him, “Some filthy mouth you got,” He pinched the perky buds with a smirk.

“You like this filthy mouth, unless you want me to put it to better use somewhere else?”

Mark laughed dryly, “We can try that out another time.”

 Your hand reached out and firmly grasped his jaw, clashing your lips against each other. Your lips were soft against his chapped ones. Your sweet scent filled his nostrils, he was utterly enraptured by you.

You were the air that filled his lungs, a twisted need that became even more insistent. You were no better, threading your fingers through the tuff of his unruly black locs. 

His hands travelled from your breast down the valley of your back, stopping down at the fat of your  thighs.

He tugged you onto his lap, your back pressed flush against his firm chest eliciting a startled yelp from your lips.

“So responsive to my touch, babe. And I’ve barely even touched you.”Mark teased, earning a faux glare from you. Your face was practically on fire, Light kisses were one thing, but, straddling someone's lap? Uncharted territory. 

“Don’t call me babe. This…this is just new to me.”

“Oh? So my princess is a virgin? This night just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?” He chuckled, slapping your ass making you yelp once more. Mark smirked, you were too cute not to tease. 

You snuggled into the crook of his neck, hiding your flushed expression, “No biggie, I'll take good care of you, baby.” Mark cooed. 

His lips captured yours in a tender kiss once more. Your lips melded together in perfect sync, Mark ran his hand up your thigh, fondling the doughy flesh under the rough pads of his fingers.

Heavy pants escaping those lush lips, foggy gaze and slightly dishevelled attire, to him, you looked absolutely ravishing.

 Inching towards your clothed pussy. His touch is feathery light yet firm with an unbridled passion. Pulling away with a heavy breath, “Must have wanted this just as badly as me, huh princess?” he murmured. 

Delving the pad of his thumb along the silk cloth of your underwear to your covered clitoris. Rubbing quick taut circles around the bundle of nerves, smirking at the slight hitch in her breath. “My sweet servant likes that?” you nodded, whimpering at the sensation as a prominent wet patch soaked through. 

A deep laugh rumbled from him, pulling his thumb away from your puffy clit “I need words, baby,” watching the cute pout tugging your plump lips. 

“I want it…please, Mark.” The pooling ache between your legs was becoming unbearable.

Mark’s lidded gaze flickered with mischief, “Oh? You want it that bad?” his voice dipped into a low whisper against your ear, nipping at your lobe. 

 “Yes,” you groaned, fiercely yearning for his touch. He smiled, tugging your underwear to the side, collecting your essence on the tips of his fingers, dragging the fluid along the valley of your labia, making you choke out a whine.

Mark’s airy laugh tickles your neck as he begins dipping his fingers roughly inside your quivering hole.

“Goodness, this wet…for me? I feel flattered, princess.” Mark cackled at the slight shake in your form, sinking his thick fingers deeper into your warm walls.

The slight stretch ebbed the throb of your cunt, setting a rough pace, making your hips buck and squirm. 

Mark groaned as your gummy walls clamped down on his fingers, making the drag of his fingers and echoing squelches even more enchanting, “This pussy is mine, hear how loud she is.”

You nodded limply, your mind was fogged with nothing more than him and his fingers reaching the deepest parts of you. 

Clamping a hand against your mouth to restrain your waterfall of moans, rutting your hips in tandem with his ruthless pace, Mark hissed as your ass rubbed against his strained cock, “M’fuck! Don’t cover your moans, princess. Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel. Wanna have everyone hear who you belong to.” Using his hand to grasp her wrist, forcefully pulling it away from her spit-smeared lips. Choking back a grutal moaned at the sudden high-pitched squeal that followed suit.

 “F-fuck! I’m gonna cum.” you whined, the bubbling knot in your lower abdomen growing stronger, your legs convulsed locking your thighs around his hand. 

Curling into his chest with an arched back, a breathless moan fell out of your swollen lips. Your vision became splotchy and head fogged only focused on the enthralling sensation.

Feeling the bubbly heat of release, your essence squirting out, painting his hand in your juices in an almost endless stream.

Mark was pinned on your expression, feeling a puff of pride at your fucked out expression. “Squirted all over my fingers, princess, was it that good?” 

Rolling your eyes, you gave a small smile, “Shut up.” Your breath returned to its rhythm as you laughed.

A coaxed a faux pout on his lips, “I don't know, maybe once I fuck you properly I will.” teasingly pinching your sides.

Pushing your hips firmly against his own. You felt the prominent bulge twitch against your ass. The feeling alone caused you to flush greatly. 

“You feel that, huh? Feel what you do to me?” He groaned as he rutted his hips against yours. Slotting his throbbing bulge against your sensitive pussy. Laughing breathlessly at the lulling pleasure that coursed through him. 

The bulbous tip was an angry red, thick veins running along its shaft. A small pebble of pre cum formed at the tip. You felt a cool shiver run down your spine, swallowing dryly, your eyes flickered back up to his own. 

Mark chuckled dryly at your timid expression, “What? Scared? I'll be gentle…for now,” his hold around your plush waist tightened. 

Tearing your gaze away from him, “You have to promise, I've never done anything like this before,” you mumbled. 

“I promise, princess.” 

He aligned himself with your quivering hole. He ran his cock against your labia, bumping it against your twitching clit.  Laughing dryly at your whined pleas, “Aww, you want me that badly, baby?”

You nodded your head furiously. Knitting your brows with a bubbling frustration. Moaning against the kiss, lifting you with ease and sinking you onto his cock.

His eyes rolled back at your tight, warm walls, clamped down on him. Choking back a moan, “Jesus, you're still so tight.” He growled, 

You hissed at the burning pain; the stretch was unbelievable. You leaned back into his embrace, he pressed wet kisses against your face, whispering a slew of praises. “Doing so good f’me princess,” his grip on your thighs was firm, almost bruising your supple skin. 

Finally bottoming out inside, Mark had to restrain himself from busting right there. Your warm walls were practically fluttering against him, urging him. “Just relax…okay? I'll only start moving when you tell me, okay?” 

“Okay,” batting the tears from your eyes, your gaze lingered on his. Admiring the love that swivelled through his eyes. You felt your heart swell with appreciation, ghosting kisses along his face. Tapping his bicep softly to urge him to move. 

Mark lifts you off before slamming you back down. You both released a breathy moan. Continuing the slow tempo, the languid sound of skin slapping echoed against the walls. 

Moans flowed from your lips, the unbearable heat of pleasure coursed through your veins like hot magma. The sweet pleasure had you intoxicated, his cock, thick and long, reached the deepest parts of you. 

Mark was no better, a sheen layer of sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead. The slow drag of his became faster and faster, with each drag having pleasure pumping like lava through his bloodstream. 

The thick scent of sex wafted through the vacant room. Only the wet slap of skin and whimpers bouncing off its walls. His pace became brutal, snapping hips up—his cock kissing the deepest parts of you. “Shit, your really sucking me dry princess. Begging for me to fill this pussy up.”

Your walls subcounciously spasm around his cock making him sputter. “You like that, princess? Fuck, gonna pump you full,” you could hardly tell what he was rambling about anymore, teetering closer to the edge of release with each thrusts.

Your hold on him tightened, hips twitching as your vision became blotchy, simmering pleasure crashing down in waves. You let out low wail as Mark continues his pace, prolonging your orgasm. He came shortly after, hips stuttering with gritted teeth, ropes of thick cum sputter filling you up. 

You breath slowed as your body grew limp, the slow beat of his heart nearly lowling you to sleep was swiftly ruined with a sharp thrusts of his hips. 

“You thought I was done? Princess we’ve just gotten started.”

[ddejavvu]

Jake seresin doing that bathroom door thing to a sweet shy reader would be so cute😭😭

that bathroom door thing - i changed it up just a bit for the plot's sake! i hope you still enjoy it <3

--

Jake's forever grateful that Penny bought the Hard Deck, because it brought about changes that have only ever benefitted him. She's begrudgingly fond of him, so he drinks whenever he wants and pays his tab in grunt muscle when new shipments of booze are delivered and need to be hauled in. He also drives Amelia around to various after school activities, so Penny's rewarded him with his own personal set of keys in case she's waiting for pickup in the bar and can't lock up behind herself.

The bar is cleaner now than it was under previous management, which means more women are willing to set foot inside; something about the earlier gunk and grime drove them away. It's no longer a place for aviators to drink their sorrows away- it's fun, it's full, and it's family, something Jake cherishes more than he'll ever admit.

Those keys feel especially important in his pocket now as he watches you try the handle of the bathroom door, clearly in a rush. Jake's surprised that the bathroom isn't constantly occupied, what with the amount of liquor that gets consumed on a nightly basis, but some people might just be better at regulating themselves than others.

Apparently you're not one of them as you find the door locked, your face contorting into clear displeasure.

You scan the bar for Penny but- Jake realizes with a jolt down his spine, she's not here. She'd stepped out, and he'd been casually monitoring the counter to ensure that no one started touching anything that didn't belong to them.

"Coyote," Jake calls, catching his friend's attention from where he's crouched over the pool table, "Cover for Penny."

Usually the team would be annoyed at being interrupted, but Coyote is just as fond of Penny as Jake is, and he nods once, passing his cue over to Rooster. He takes up a seat opposite Jake, giving the man the chance to stand and make his way over to you.

"Hey there, darlin'," He greets, digging the keys out of his pocket, "You need'a get in there?"

"Uh, yeah, I do," You laugh sheepishly, watching intently as he slides the key into the door, "Oh my god, thank you, I couldn't find the bartender and I thought I was shit outta luck."

"I gotcha, honey," Jake grins, bicep flexing as he pushes open the door for you, "Come get me when you're done so I can lock back up, okay?"

"Alright," You agree, slipping into the bathroom and peeking through the door to call after him, "Thank you again!"

Jake beelines for the bar, reaching around the countertop to grab two bottles of beer. They're stored in an ice bucket, but he prefers them to the tap because they're quicker and easier.

"Hey!" Coyote barks, mad dogging him playfully, "You gonna pay for those, sir?"

"If these help me get that lady's number," Jake rushes back to the tables near the bathroom, sitting at one and setting the other bottle across from him, "I'll give Penny my life savings."

[powderpinkprincess]

Arrested I. [Lando Norris x reader] 16+

Just testing the waters here, trying to find out how far the madness can go. description: You get arrested and Lando bails you out. warnings: I’m relatively sure the legal system doesn’t work this way, but I was never arrested before. Also, some bad words. Lando is a little angry.

Lando huffed as he opened his mailbox. So many unread emails again. He’d been procrastinating reading them for a while now until his manager sent him a rather angry warning. Usually, his manager took care of his emails, but some of them Lando had to answer.

His phone rang on the kitchen table, and he glanced at the screen. Then he frowned. It was a number not saved, which wasn’t anything unnatural, but this one was his private phone. This number only a handful of people knew, and he had each one of them saved. He contemplated for a moment whether he should pick it up or not, but then his gut instinct won, and he swiped the green button.

 “Hey,” he greeted quickly, not really knowing what to say. He didn’t want to tell his name in case it was someone he didn’t know, and he didn’t even like making phone calls either.

“It’s Officer David Martin calling from the Monaco Police Department. Am I speaking with Lando Norris?” A male voice asked.

Lando’s eyes widened, and the words were caught in his throat for a moment. The police? His thoughts immediately rushed from you being injured to this being a prank call.

 “Sir, are you there?” The officer spoke after he didn’t get a response, and Lando realized he had forgotten to answer.

 “Yeah, it’s me, I’m here.” He pushed away his laptop and leaned his elbows on the table.

 “Your partner is under arrest for damage to property of high value. If I understood correctly, you are Y/N Y/L/N’s closest family here?” The officer continued.

Lando fell silent again.

 “Sir?”

 “I’m sorry but what? What do you mean? What property?” He frowned as he was trying to put the pieces together. There must have been a mistake.

 “She damaged someone’s car, and the owner reported her,” the officer sighed, sounding as if he had this conversation too many times in his career.

 “Jesus Christ,” Lando muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is the owner pressing charges?”

 “He already did,” the officer answered.

Lando sighed. He was frustrated and just... Confused? He was confused and he still couldn't quite understand what could have been going on in your head. He knew you had a short temper, but usually just stuck to him and friends, so why on earth were you damaging someone's car?

 “Did she tell you why?” He asked, not knowing better.

 “No, she didn’t. I’m not here to chat with her.” The officer sounded a little pissed now.

 “Okay, okay,” Lando said, running a hand through his hair, trying to remain calm. “What’s gonna happen now? I mean, do I have to pick her up or something? Or is she staying overnight?”

 “She'll have to pay for the damage and we're estimating a year behind bars for her,” the officer answered.

 “Jesus...” Lando's heart dropped. “A year?!”

He swallowed hard, rubbing his face with one hand, trying to wrap his head around what he had just been told. He never thought he would have to deal with his girlfriend being arrested.

 “Yes, a year.”

Lando couldn't help but chuckle hopelessly. “A year... For how much damage? Like, how can you go to jail for a year for damaging a car?” He was baffled. Surely, you couldn't stay in jail for a whole ass year?

 “Four hundred thousand Euros, sir.”

For a second Lando thought he misheard him. “Four hundred...” He trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows. “Four hundred thousand Euros? What does this guy own? A goddamn Bugatti?”

 “A Rolls-Royce.”

Lando's eyebrows raised once more. “And the car is worth four hundred thousand?” He asked in disbelief. “Was it brand new or- Vintage or something?”

 “Sir, are you a mechanic planning to repair it, or why are you so interested in the details right now?” The officer was obviously not in a patient mood today, but Lando couldn’t care less. His girlfriend was fucking arrested.

 “No, I just-“ He wanted to retort something smart, but then he changed his mind. This whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. A year in jail and four hundred thousand Euros damage for a goddamn car? That seemed ridiculous, but what did Lando know? “Nevermind, sorry.”

 “Sir, she didn’t just accidentally break it. She did it on purpose and the damage is huge,” the officer sighed.

 “I get it, I get it,” Lando said, feeling a headache coming in. The thought that you purposefully destroyed someone's car for reasons he didn't know still baffled him, but he figured a year in jail and four hundred thousand in damages meant you were probably mad at something? It took a lot for you to get so worked up.

 “Will she be released on bail?” Lando inquired after another deep sigh, trying to calm himself down and think.

The officer was quiet for a minute. “Four hundred thousand Euros is just the damage itself. Where would she have all the money for the bail besides that?”

 “I'll pay for it,” Lando said without thinking. The money was nothing to him, he could afford it, and there was no way he was leaving you in jail.

 “You would?” The officer sounded dumbfounded.

 “Yes, of course,” Lando said, already mentally calculating what it'd cost. It was a high price, but if it meant that you would be out of jail without having to spend a year in prison, he was more than happy to pay. “When can I talk to her?”

The officer sighed. “Can you be here in 30 minutes?”

 “Yes, I will be there in 15,” Lando said, immediately standing up from the table. The stupid emails could wait.

 “Great. See you around.”

 “See you,” Lando said shortly and hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket. His hands were trembling slightly. A year behind bars and four hundred thousand in damages... A part of him was still trying to wrap his head around it.

It was a 15 minutes’ drive to the police station but with the number of red lights and speed cams in the area, it took Lando a bit longer. He got out of the car and hurried into the building, heading straight for the reception.

 “Hey, I'm Lando Norris,” he told the officer sitting behind the counter, slightly out of breath. “I'm here for my girlfriend?” He didn't know when the sentence would ever sound normal.

The officer checked the computer system with a few taps on the keyboard. “Ah, yeah,” she said and stood up. “Follow me.”

Lando did so and suddenly got nervous about the whole situation. Just forty minutes ago, he was sitting in his kitchen, focusing on his work, and now he was here, bailing out his girlfriend.

The officer stopped in front of a door and opened it for Lando. "She's in here," she said.

Lando swallowed hard and took a deep breath, calming his nerves down as best he could. "Thank you," he said, before stepping through the door.

You were there, handcuffed to a table, heavily arguing with an officer. Your eyes were on fire. “Let me go, for fucks sake!” you yelled.

Lando froze in his spot for a moment, watching you screaming at the officer. He had never seen you like this - so wild and fiery, with a certain gleam of madness in your eyes. He quickly shook his head and took a deep breath, walking over to you. "Hey," he said gently, and your head snapped towards him instantly.

 “What are you doing here?” you snapped.

 "What does it look like? I'm here to bail you out,” Lando said, sitting down in the chair opposite of you. He knew this wasn't the time for an argument.

 "Madam, you must take the drug test, it's not up to your decision," the officer in the room continued.

 “I will not!” you yelled. “I told you hundred fucking times that I’m not on anything!”

Lando sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his messy hair. This whole situation was just one big headache. "Just take the damn test, Y/N. You're already in enough trouble as it is.”

You stared at him angrily. “Leave.”

Lando frowned. "What?" He asked in surprise. Did you just tell him to leave? "No."

 “Leave!” you screamed again and punched the table with your fist.

 “My god, Y/N-“ Lando leaned forward. “Stop acting like a damn child! You're facing a year in prison. This is a serious situation!"

 "I will not be there for a year," you scoffed. "That's not fair."

 "Yeah? Well, it's the reality of it," Lando retorted. "Destroying four hundred thousand Euros worth of property is not fair either."

 "Madame, this is the last time I'm asking, take the drug test otherwise that one year will quickly become two," the officer was angry now.

Lando frowned at the officer's words and looked from him to you who were glaring at the guy with defiance in your eyes. He knew you were stubborn, but could you seriously be that stupid and risk a higher sentence just because you were refusing a drug test?

 "Y/N," he said softly, a warning tone in his voice. "Just take the damn test."

 “Why?” you argued. “I’m not a junkie!”

Lando clenched his jaw, frustrated beyond measure and at a loss for words. It was like talking to a brick wall. "No, you're not,” he said patiently. "So, prove that you're not, okay? Just take the goddamn test."

You scrunched your eyes and took a deep breath. "This is ridiculous. Okay, I will take it but then you'll let me go. That guy deserved everything."

Lando furrowed his eyebrows once again and shook his head with a sigh. "Oh, he did, didn’t he? Did you happen to forget that this "guy" just lost four hundred thousand Euros because you were probably out of your mind on something?”

 "He's rich anyway," you rolled your eyes. Meanwhile, the officer unlocked your handcuffs from the table.

Lando rubbed a hand over his face at your words, desperately willing himself not to yell at you. Your nonchalance with the whole situation made him angry. "That's beside the point. Look, I don't care if he's a billionaire or if he can just afford to buy a new car with the change he finds under his sofa, you can't go around damaging people's property! You broke the goddamn law!"

The officer led you away, then he returned to the room where Lando was still trying to comprehend the whole situation. He had a notebook and a pen in his hand. He slid a piece of paper in front of Lando. "So, if the test comes back negative this is the total. The damage and the bail."

Lando looked up briefly at the officer before his gaze fell back to the paper. His eyes widened with each number he read. "Alright, I hope this season goes well then," he muttered to himself.

 "Good luck," the officer nodded. "My daughter is a huge fan of yours. I know this is an awkward situation, but could you sign this for her?" Then he slid an empty piece of paper in front of Lando.

Lando scoffed. "Jesus, this is the weirdest situation I've ever encountered..." He looked from the officer to the piece of paper, shaking his head softly as he took the pen and signed his name on the paper.

 "Thank you. You can have your partner back in about an hour." The officer stuffed the autograph in his pocket.  “Now I’m going to ask you to make the payment.”

Lando signed and paid everything he had to, slowly slipping into a state of surrender. The officer put everything into a folder and looked back at Lando.

 "We’re done here. You can wait by the reception. We have a coffee vending machine," the officer added.

If this situation wasn't so serious, Lando would have laughed at the officer's words. Waiting by the reception for his girlfriend to get out of jail after getting caught destroying a car. It sounded like the beginning of a bad movie.

Lando nodded. "Alright, thanks.” He got up from the chair and headed towards the reception area, thinking about how the hell you got yourself into this mess in the first place. You sure will need a good explanation after all of this.

The officer behind the reception desk looked up at Lando as soon as he entered the room. "I will hand you the criminal's belongings if you don't mind."

Lando raised his eyebrows at the woman's words. "Criminal? You mean my girlfriend?" He asked, his voice taking on a slightly defensive tone.

 "She committed a crime. She is a criminal," the woman nodded as she handed Lando a plastic bag.

Lando was tempted to point out that the word sounded quite harsh, but he refrained from doing so. He accepted the bag and sat down on one of the waiting chairs. When you were finally released, he could hear your voice way before he saw you.

 "See, I told you I wasn't on anything! Female rage, that's what they call it," you argued.

Lando's eyes zeroed in on you as soon as you entered the room, and he quickly got up from his seat. He tried to look stern and serious, but he was so relieved to see you, unharmed. "Shut the hell up, for Christ's sake," he said as you approached him.

 "I just have to prove my point," you crossed your arms.

Lando rolled his eyes. "And in the process piss off every officer around you, right? I think your point is proven already by the mess you made. Let’s go home. And I hope you’ve got a good excuse for all of this."

 "You bet I do," you mumbled.

 "Oh yeah, I’m thrilled to hear it," he retorted, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “I just paid a huge amount of money, so you won’t get locked up for a year, damn it. What has gotten into you?”

As he led you to his car, he wondered if you would destroy his collection as well if you ever got into a serious argument. He didn’t want to find out.

find part two here

[tired-demonspawn]

im working on something else rn but a lil while ago i made a star wars au, so here you go :)

the main idea is written in the corner but imma tldr it(also i dont trust the upload quality of the pic): set in roughly prequel era robotnik used to be a high up republic special weapons group guy and, as a high up military guy, was assigned a jedi bodyguard, that being stone.

once his inventions got a bit too war-crime-y the republic had him jailed and stone (who fell in love with him) breaks him out and they start being weapons dealers

other misc details under the cut

okay so some of these are mentioned in the pic but i wanted to specify/expand/clarify:

stone never really falls to the dark side, that's actually why he couldn't bleed his own crystal (which let's be completely clear he would be willing to do for robotnik), he simply didnt have the hate and pain necessary to do it. he follows robotnik, his devotion and duty to him is what gives him strength in the force(think knights of zakuul)

to go with his brand, also just to show that he could, robotnik made stone a lightsaber with a black market red kyber crystal... smthn smthn your lightsaber is your life...

i went with orange for his original one because

it provides a nice contrast with the rest of his fit

it goes with robotnik's colour scheme

he simply does not have the temperament of a purple lightsaber, i dunno man the vibes are off

for my fourth reason let me present to you a quick clone wars episode concept:

--

(clone wars intro music)(random quote) UNCERTAINTY HAS GRIPPED THE REPUBLIC! the separatists have captured a republic military research vessel along with its scientists and military generals! it is up to only 3 brave jedi to save them.

(i fucked up the tone of the intro guy by the middle, and also i dont really have a 3rd guy i just wrote 3 cuz it seemed like a number they would use)

anyway gimmick clone wars intro aside

robotnik was forced entirely into the military uniform(including non special gloves) for a special scientific military meeting where "even jedi werent allowed" it obviously being a trap robotnik had a few aces up his sleeve, but even so, stone was told to stay on alert, because robotnik was most definitely getting kidnapped.

so when robotnik misses all 3 agreed upon check ins stone contacts the council(hes already somewhere with a lot of jedi, its not just a matter of "he thought it best to report"(and waste precious time that could be spent saving the doctor?) but "he literally cannot take a ship and leave without it raising suspicion"), he basically tells them something like "we cant waste any time arguing, im going. i am closest to the last reported location" so the council sticks 2 more people on him(if it was an actual episode they would most likely be already established, so we could see a "familiar face" interacting with this new character of stone)

anyway they find where did the seps take them because obviously robotnik chipped himself.

with the correct password(that only stone has(not that he knows that hes the only one)) robotnik can be tracked even through hyperspace(not exactly, but it at least gives a general quadrant of space, which ofc after leaving hyperspace gets pin-point accurate)

they get to the base, they sneak around trying to find how to get to the prisoners(because its nice that they have robotniks coordinates to the tenth of a milimetre, but they dont have the base blueprints)

during the dramatic peak of the ep, there's a weirdly menacing moment where the mild mannered jedi knight, that was kinda made fun of the entire episode for being "reduced to an errand boy" can actually swing a lightsaber around pretty well.

and then he unties robotnik, helps him up, asks if hes alright("of course not, imbecile! what took you?" "the tracker wasnt as accurate while in hyperspace as you theorised" "hm. well in any case none of this would happen if it werent for this stupid uniform" "i have a change of clothes prepared for you in the ship") aaannnd the errand boy is back

fast forward, robotnik was both arrested and freed, is now doing his own thing.

the two knights that were with stone in that "initial episode" are snooping around one of robotnik's labs, investigating this new arms dealer. they're on a terminal of some sort and behind them out of focus of the camera a bright orange lightsaber ignites, contrasting sharply against the red/blue tones of the lab.

"you aren't welcome here." the former jedi knight says.

--

and scene

so yea hope that last bit sold you on the orange lightsaber bit

originally wanted to post this au with more art attached but alas life had other plans.

anyway if you've read this far i hope you have a nice rest of your day :)

also dont be afraid to ask any questions about this au, i have so many thoughts about it, so im 100% sure i didnt include something i deffo have figured out because i either a) forgor 💀 or b) didnt know how to properly explain a vague feeling about a possible situation

[pascalislove]

The Call: Han Jeong-Won x Fem Reader!!

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it.

The clock on the wall marked two in the morning, but Han Jeong-Won couldn't sleep. The city of Seoul shone beyond the windows of his luxurious penthouse, but all he saw was the reflection of his tired face in the glass. The same empty expression he had worn for months.He clenched his jaw as his gaze fell on the phone lying on the coffee table. For the last hour, he had been debating with himself whether or not to make the call his assistant, worried about his "singleness," had suggested in hushed, uncomfortable whispers.

New Marriage: Where contracts become solutions.Jeong-Won had let out a dry laugh when he first heard that slogan. The idea had seemed absurd back then, but now… now everything seemed less ridiculous than living every day feeling the pitying stares or, worse yet, the evident contempt from his ex-wife.Seo-Yeon.Just thinking of her made his chest tighten. That woman had been his greatest mistake and his greatest weakness. Their marriage had ended in flames, consumed by hatred and guilt. She blamed him for the loss of their baby, and even though he knew it wasn’t his fault, the guilt had settled on him like a second skin."Dammit..." he muttered, grabbing the phone with determination.He dialed the number he had saved under the nondescript name "Service N." The waiting tone echoed in his ear, and for a moment, he thought about hanging up."New Marriage, good morning. How can we help you?" a soft, professional female voice answered.Jeong-Won swallowed hard."I want... to hire a wife."There was a brief silence on the other end of the line."Excuse me?""I want a wife," he repeated coldly. "As soon as possible."The operator seemed to regain her composure."Do you have any specific requirements?"Jeong-Won reclined on the sofa, running a hand through his messy hair."She needs to be discreet. I don’t care about her past. I just need her to be convincing.""Understood. What is the purpose of the contract?"He smiled, a bitter, twisted grimace."I want my ex-wife to see me happy. I want her to regret leaving me."The operator didn’t seem surprised. She had heard it all on this line."Very well, Mr. Han. We will send you an appropriate profile within the next 24 hours."He hung up before he could overthink what he had just done.The weight of his decision settled in the air like an impending storm. Jeong-Won knew that this wouldn’t solve his life, but at that moment, making her jealous was the closest thing to a victory he could imagine.And when you have nothing left to lose, even a fake marriage can seem like an opportunity.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Y/N's small apartment as Loki, her faithful white puppy, ran around her feet while she poured herself a cup and let out a satisfied sigh. Life hadn't been easy lately, but Y/N always found a way to keep her spirits up.Since her family had faced financial problems, Y/N had to take on unconventional jobs to make ends meet. That’s how she ended up registering with the New Marriage agency, a discreet but peculiar company that offered marriage services... by contract.The agreement was simple: temporary marriages lasting one year to cover personal or social needs of clients. Although the idea had seemed strange at first, the money was too good to turn down."It’s just a job, Y/N," she had told herself in front of the mirror the day she signed her contract as a "temporary wife candidate."The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts. She looked at the screen and saw the agency’s number."Hello?""Good morning, Miss Y/N. This is Min Seo from New Marriage.""Ah, hello," she replied, trying to sound calm despite her heart racing."We're calling to inform you that you've been selected for a special case."Y/N furrowed her brow."Special?""Yes. The client is Han Jeong-Won, a well-known music producer."Y/N couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. She had heard that name on the radio and in the news. A music genius, but with a reputation for being reserved and, according to rumors, difficult to deal with."And what’s the request?" she asked with curiosity."Marriage by contract, of course. Duration: one year. The client’s goal is primarily to make an impression in his social circle and, specifically, in front of his ex-wife."Y/N bit her lip. She wasn't unfamiliar with the extravagant cases the agency handled, but this request sounded more complicated than usual."An angry ex-husband? Sounds... interesting," she joked with a nervous tone."The client has made it clear that he needs discretion and a partner who can handle social situations with ease. We believe you are a perfect fit."Y/N sighed, looking at Loki, who was now chewing his favorite toy."Alright, I accept the offer."Min Seo smiled on the other end of the line."Perfect. We’ll send you the details for the initial meeting with the client."When the call ended, Y/N collapsed onto the sofa, petting Loki’s soft ears."Well, Loki, looks like mom just signed a deal with destiny."The dog barked happily."Yes, I think this is going to be crazy too."Unknowingly, Y/N was about to meet the loneliest man in Seoul, someone who didn’t believe in second chances. But maybe, with her cheerful spirit, she would be exactly what he never knew he needed.

Tell me if you like this story:3

The Call Masterlist

[ellieinink]

Between Life and Love

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Drama, Romance

Warnings: Graphic depictions of medical trauma, surgery scenes, emotional distress, major angst with comfort elements

Word Count: ~12,000+

Synopsis: When trauma surgeon Baek Kang-hyuk is forced to operate on the one person he can't lose, his carefully controlled world shatters. As you fight to survive, he faces a different battle—one that has nothing to do with medicine and everything to do with his heart.

Baek Kang-hyuk had long since mastered the art of detachment. It was a necessity in his line of work. Trauma surgeons didn't have the luxury of hesitation, of emotions clouding their judgment. The moment a patient was wheeled in, they became a case—a puzzle to be solved, a life to be saved. Nothing more.

It was the only way to survive in this field.

But all of that training, all of the carefully constructed walls he had built around himself, shattered the second he saw you.

The emergency room was a symphony of urgency—shouts, hurried footsteps, the shrill beeping of monitors tracking vitals that were rapidly plummeting. Kang-hyuk had barely stepped into the trauma bae when Jang-mi's voice cut through the noise.

"GSW to the abdomen, severe hemorrhaging—pressure dropping fast!"

Her voice was sharp, professional, but there was something in it that wasn't usually there. A crack in the mask she always wore.

And then he saw why.

His world narrowed, everything around him dissolving into static.

Blood. So much blood. Seeping through your clothing, pooling onto the gurney, staining the hands of the paramedics desperately trying to keep pressure on the wound.

And you.

Pale. Unconscious. Broken in a way that made something in him fracture.

He was moving before his mind could catch up, shoving past residents and nurses, gripping on the edge of the stretcher like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

No. No, no, no.

"Shit," Park Gyeong-won muttered, checking your vitals. "BP's tanking—60 over 40. We need to get her into surgery now."

Kang-hyuk barely registered the words. His entire body felt like it was on autopilot, his brain screaming at him to do something.

Then—

"Kang-hyuk."

It was barely a whisper. A breath. But it cut through him like a blade.

Your eyes fluttered open—just barely—but you were looking at him. Your fingers twitched like you were trying to reach for him, but you were too weak.

His hands trembled. His chest was too tight, his pulse roaring in his ears.

"I'm here," he forced out, his voice hoarse, raw. He grabbed your hand, pressing it against his, grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. "You're going to be okay."

A lie. He never made promises in trauma cases. But this was you. He couldn't lose you.

"Number one, you're assisting," he snapped, snapping back into focus. His voice was steel, his mask sliding into place. "Gangster, let's move. Now."

This wasn't just another surgery.

This was war.

And he would fight with everything he had.

The operating room was cold, sterile. A stark contrast to the burning panic in Kang-hyuk's chest.

"She's coding!"

Dr. Park's voice was sharp, cutting through the haze threatening to consume him.

"V-fib—starting compressions!"

Kang-hyuk's world blurred. His grip on the scalpel was ironclad, his knuckles white as he forced himself to focus. Breathe. Focus. Fix this.

Jae-won worked swiftly beside him, suctioning blood away. "Entry wound is deep—bullet's lodged near the liver. We need to—"

"She's crashing again!"

The defibrillator whined as it charged.

Not like this. Not her.

"Clear!"

Your body jolted. The monitor flatlined.

Kang-hyuk's stomach lurched.

"Clear!"

Another jolt. Another agonizing second of silence—

Then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A heartbeat. Weak, but there.

Kang-hyuk exhaled sharply, his hands resuming their work with precision. Focus. Fix what's broken.

"Bullet's out," he said, voice strained. "Starting repairs."

The OR was a battlefield, and Kang-hyuk refused to lose.

Time lost meaning.

Hours passed in a blur of sutures, transfusions, whispered prayers between each stitch.

And then—

"She's stabilizing," Jang-mi breathed.

A ragged breath left Kang-hyuk's chest. His hands, stained with your blood, trembled as he stepped back.

His body ached. His scrubs were drenched in sweat. But none of that mattered.

You were alive.

For now, that was enough.

Pain. That was the first thing you registered. A dull, throbbing ache beneath layers of numbness.

Then—warmth. A hand. Familiar, steady.

Your lashes fluttered. The hospital room swam into focus. And there, slumped over the side of your bed, gripping your hand like a lifeline—

Baek Kang-hyuk.

His face was etched with exhaustion. Dark circles beneath his eyes, tension lining every inch of his frame. But he was there.

"Hey," you rasped, your throat dry.

His eyes snapped open instantly.

Relief. Raw, unguarded, washing over his face in waves.

"You scared the hell out of me," he muttered.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. "Guess I like keeping you on your toes."

His jaw clenched. His grip on your hand tightened, just slightly.

"Don't. Ever. Do that again."

You wanted to tease him. To joke. But there was something in his voice—something fragile.

So instead, you squeezed his fingers.

"I'm still here," you whispered.

His shoulders sagged. And for the first time since that night, Kang-hyuk breathed.

Days turned into weeks. Your wounds healed, but the scars—both seen and unseen—remained.

And yet, so did Kang-hyuk.

He was there for every painful step. Every long, sleepless night. Every moment of doubt.

One evening, as he sat beside you, his fingers tracing absent patterns against your wrist, you finally asked, "Why are you still here?"

His hand stilled.

Then, he looked at you. Really looked at you.

"Because," he murmured, "I almost lost you."

Your heart stuttered.

"And that made me realize..." He exhaled, his fingers brushing against yours. "I don't want a life where you're not in it."

Tears pricked your eyes.

"Kang-hyuk..."

But before you could speak, he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against your fingers.

And in that moment, you knew.

He had saved your life.

But you had always been the one saving his.

This is one of the longest that I've written... Send in requests for Baek Kang-hyuk, Yang Jae-won or Park Gyeong-won!!! Also, I might start writing for juji as well!!!

taglist: perm @missroro @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad

[uptondixon]

Chicago P.D's Men as Your Older Brother

Wordcount: 1547. 230-290 each.

Reader's age and gender are not specified. The timelines may give a hint about the age differences, though. 

Kevin Atwater

Raising 3 siblings was definitely not in Kevin's life plan. He has always been a good brother, but there's a huge difference between a brother and a father. Despite his insecurities, he did a good job. Kevin raised you, Vinessa, and Jordan with all the love in the world. Food, clothes, toys, birthday parties, doctor appointments, school work, he did it all. And he would do it again and again if it meant seeing you and your siblings growing up happy and healthy. When your father came back from prison, it took a toll on all of you. While Kevin tried to deal with his own unresolved feelings about your dad, you had a weird feeling growing in your chest.

“Who is this man? He is not my father, at least I don't feel like he is,” you told Kevin one afternoon after he mentioned your father wanted to meet. Kevin and Vinessa agreed with you, not really knowing how to feel towards the man.

“You raised us, Kev,” you said, looking into his eyes. “We never called you dad because you've always been Kev, our big brother. But you've been a dad to us all along.”

Later that night, you all got to an agreement: to give your father a chance. But he would never be number one. Ever. Kevin is and always going to be number one in your hearts.

Jay Halstead

It's no surprise to anyone that being a Halstead comes with a package: a talent for trouble and two very, extremely, unnecessarily protective older brothers. Jay and Will made sure everyone knew not to mess with you or things would get ugly really fast. Kids at school knew you had a cop and a doctor as your brothers, and you knew that was the reason no one ever laid a finger on you. This whole protective thing goes both ways, though. Jay will never forget the day you got home from a party with a busted lip. The reason? Apparently, to defend him.

“What?” the look of disbelief on his face was priceless. If this wasn't a serious conversation, you would be laughing your ass off. “Defending me? What do you mean?”

“We were talking, and suddenly the conversation shifted to police. This guy started shit-talking that all cops were dirty and did nothing for the city. Never in a million years could I stand there and say nothing!” you said in exasperation. “I told them how my brother saves lives every day and how much you and your team sacrifice for this city.”

Jay just stood there. His fingers came to rest on the bridge of his nose. Damn, he couldn't say he wasn't proud, but at the same time…

“Kid, that's nice and all, but would you mind not getting into fights on my behalf ever again? Jesus!”

Antonio Dawson

The Dawson siblings… your parents had no idea they would have to deal with 3 souls that feared absolutely nothing. Being the youngest definitely helped you feel even bolder. Having Antonio and Gabby protect you from everything and everyone made you feel like the safest person on earth. Growing up is never easy, but being a Dawson prepared you for a lot. With Gabby being in CFD and Antonio in CPD, your parents wondered if you would follow your sibling's footsteps. When the moment came to choose your profession, they were worried that would be the case. You, however, have no idea where your passion lies.

“You don't have to be so worried about this, kid,” Antonio said from his spot on the couch.

“How can I not, Tonio?”

“Come here, sit down,” he said, patting the spot beside him. You went and sat beside him. “It's perfectly normal to feel lost about all this. It's not an easy decision. “

“It was easy for you and Gabby. You always knew what you wanted to do.”

“That means nothing. Do you think we never had doubts? That we didn't struggle?” Antonio held your face in his hands. “You have our support. Always. It doesn't matter what you choose to do.”

“He's right,” Gabby said, having arrived in the room just now. “We love you, and we're going to help you find your way.”

Hank Voight

Losing a parent is something that can change someone’s entire life. You and Hank had to deal with the loss of your dad when you were both too young to even understand why he died. You and Hank were really different, but you both shared the wish to become police. To protect the city like your father did. Being the oldest, Hank became a mentor to you. He was there for you in every step of your career, being your biggest supporter. Being police somehow strengthened your bond and you guys grew closer as the years went by. You could be yourself without any fear with him, and he felt the same. When your brother lost the love of his life, his wife Camille, you were the only person he would open up to.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hank stared at you for the first time that evening. He’s been avoiding you since the funeral that morning. You knew he was scared to pour out his emotions, afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep going if he let himself feel all that pain.

“I’m here, Hank,” you held his hands that rested on the table.

“Do you remember how you felt when dad died?” Hank asked you.

“What? No… We were so young.”

“Exactly. I don’t remember hurting his much, you know?”

You felt your eyes fill with tears at his words. You got up and embraced him in a hug, hoping to pass him some comfort. “We’re going to be okay, brother. I got you.”

Adam Ruzek

As surprising as it may sound, having an older brother who never leaves you alone and is devoted to annoy you is not that bad. You were a really introverted kid, and for years Adam was your only friend. You were still a baby when your parents divorced. This made things even more complicated between them, but Adam has always been there for you. He held your hand when you walked for the first time. He taught you how to ride a bike and how to play football. Your dad always watched you two with fondness in his eyes. The three of you were pretty close. Bob was not perfect, but he tried his best. He knew that Adam felt like he had to protect you from everything, but sometimes that went too far.

“Adam, for the last time, tell me where the hell are they!” Bob was starting to lose his patience.

“Dad, I told you I don’t know.”

“You’re 20, for god's sake! You should stop covering for them.”

Adam choose to stay silent this time. They’ve been at it for 30 minutes now, and he already used all his excuses.

“Fine, you want me to go to the police station? I can find them and cause a scene, sending police cars to wherever they are!”

Adam’s eyes widened at this, he knew it was a lost battle now. He told your dad about the party you went to, already feeling sorry for all the scolding you’d get the next days. Later that night, Adam apologized for not being able to hold your dad longer.

You looked at him with a big smile on your face, “It’s okay, Adam. Do you wanna know how my date went?”

Dante Torres

Life could be hard. Too damn hard. You and Dante knew that very well. From a young age, both of you had to learn how to survive in a world where kids like you two were constantly thrown under the bus. Being a foreigner in the US was hard enough, but also being poor and living with an abusive stepfather made things worse. Dante had to grow up faster than usual. He had to become someone that you and your mother could rely on, even though he was way too young for any of this. Juvie. Gangs. You never lost hope that Dante would leave that life, find a good job, and be happy. The day he got into the academy was one of the happiest days of your life. Seeing him later in Intelligence made you so damn proud.

“I can't believe they're giving you a permanent spot!” you were jumping into his arms before he could cross the threshold.

“You saw my message?” Dante said with a smile, hugging you back.

“Of course I did! You got the job, I'm so proud of you!”

“Where's mom?” Dante asked, stepping back from the hug and closing the door. You could tell he was a little overwhelmed with the news himself.

“She will be back soon. We have a surprise for you,” you said nonchalantly.

“What? You guys didn't have to give me anything.”

“Don't worry, bald head,” you used the nickname he hated so much. “We want to treat you, for everything you did for us.”

You approached him again and held his hand, “We love you, and we're so proud.”

“I love you guys too.” Dante smiled down at you. “But never call me bald head again.”

“Okay, bald head.”

Please accept this post as my apology for being MIA… I had this idea the other day so I decided to write it.

I’m aware that Adam has a sister that was mentioned in the show, but I don’t remember much about her, so that’s why she wasn’t mentioned. The same goes for his mother. For the others, I tried to include their parents and siblings as much as I could.

Chapter 4 of Upstead Foster Daughter is half written because I want it to be longer than the others, but inspiration hasn't hit me in a while.

Thank you again for all the love on my fics. It means a lot to me seeing all the likes and reblogs ♡

[zafirosreverie]

Call the exorcist (Agatha x F!Reader)

For @roseclear

a/n: I haven't watch the show, I just know the basics, so sorry for any plot mistakes.

Spoilers for the ending

______________

Your life was chaotic. From the moment you met that damn charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch, your whole world did a 180.

From one day to the next, magic was not only something possible, but little by little, it became something common in your life. Something you got so used to that you thought nothing could surprise you anymore.

Rule number one of being married to a witch: Agatha Harkness can always surprise you.

You weren't stupid, you knew she didn't tell you absolutely everything, that there were parts of her past she would never tell you, that they were completely buried and she planned to keep them that way. Not that it bothered you, if you were honest. 300 years of life had to have hard moments, and you decided that you wouldn't push her any further than she felt comfortable sharing you.

Still, that damn woman always managed to give you gray hairs, and you were sure that one of these days she would put you in an early grave. But you still loved her, more than life itself.

______________

The first scare was when she disappeared to go to Westview. You had a hard time getting in touch with her, and she only gave you a hasty and poorly structured explanation about chaos magic before sending you back home.

A week later, Maximoff's escape and what she had done to the town was reported on the news. You came back as quickly as you could, but you couldn't do anything. You were forced to watch your wife live as Agnes for 3 years, powerless and weak to bring her back.

Then the boy showed up. Billy Maximoff, or at least a variant of him? A reincarnation? The truth was that you didn't quite understand, nor did you care. The only important thing was that Agatha was back. And with her, chaos. Of course.

God forbid you have a second of peace with your wife.

The coven, Rio, Billy, everything was too confusing, too much for your mortal mind to understand in all the details how quickly the situation was changing, and Agatha, in the middle of it all, the central pillar, was not much help.

You knew she didn't tell you everything, but that she had gotten involved with death or that she had a child should have been some of the things she could have tell you, right? At least you thought that something like that should be important enough to tell her new wife.

You hadn't even finished assimilating all that when your witch, always chaotic and without explanations, kissed Rio, lady death, to save Billy. You didn't even have time to say goodbye to her, or to assimilate that, just like that, from one moment to the next, you had become a widow.

You didn't think you had known greater pain in your life. Knowing that your wife, the woman you loved, as imperfect, chaotic and evil as she was, was no longer there, broke your heart. You couldn't even stay there for long, you went back home as soon as you could, desperate that everything was a damn nightmare, that when you opened your eyes, Agatha would be there, with that infuriating but beautiful smile that you loved so much, ready for a new chaos.

But no matter how many times you woke up, reality was still there. Agatha was dead, you were alone. And your wife wasn't coming back.

_______________

…until she did.

________________

You calmly stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the stress of the day, the worries and sorrows. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus for a moment on the feeling of the water against your skin, the warmth of the steam and-

"AGATHA!!!" you screamed as you jumped up, and your wife still had the nerve to laugh.

It had been less than a week since Agatha Harkness had come back into your life, ready to turn it upside down again. At first, you thought you had finally lost your mind (sometimes you still thought that it was the case, to be honest), when the ghost of your dead wife appeared in the middle of the living room.

However, in true Agatha fashion, she began to cause all kinds of mischief around the house, moving things around, disarranging things, and giving you those damn kisses that you still couldn't decide if you loved or not. And that was all you needed to know that yes, your wife was back. In the form of a pile of ectoplasm with too much time on her hands and too eager to take you to the grave too, but she was back.

"Come on sweetie, you can't blame me" she laughed, floating closer to you "you know I've never been able to resist your…charms"

You shivered as her fingers, cold and not quite physical, ran down your lower back. Before you could protest, Agatha kissed you deeply. Kisses with her were very strange now, to say the least.

Not that they bothered you, you just still had to get used to the feeling of kissing an ice cube that you couldn't really touch but was at the same time as real as yourself. You never imagined kissing a ghost, but here you were, proving once again how much you loved this woman even in death.

"You're a menace" you said as she pulled away

"But I'm your menace" she smirked

"…we said 'till death do us part', why are you still here?" you crossed your arms, covering your naked body a little

"Oh darling" she laughed and caressed your cheek with those icy fingers "it's cute how you really thought death would rid you of me. No, my love, you're mine, in this and every life after"

Something in her tone and the way her ghostly fingers gripped your chin, told you that she really planned to keep that promise. And you couldn't help but smile.

"That's cute, my love" you said "…but get out of my shower right now"

"Oh come on" she laughed "I've seen you how tou came into the world many times"

"Agatha!" you shivered as you felt her icy fingers on your lower back again

"Yes?" She smiled like the Cheshire Cat

"I love you" you said "but if you don't let me take A FUCKING SHOWER IN PEACE, I'M GOING TO CALL A PRIEST AND EXORCISE THE DAMN HOUSE!!"

And of course, that damn beautiful, charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch that you loved more than life itself, had the nerve to laugh.

[frvnkiedolll]

⋆༺𓆩 mister 𓆪༻⋆

synopsis: you and your daughter are targeted and cornered by the mob, about to be murdered… until a certain ex-marine swoops in to save the day

cw: good mix of fluff and angst, violence, guns, italian, frank is so sweet to you both, gave your daughter a random age and name don’t kill me, lost a bit of steam at the end.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ! I swear to God I didn't do nothin'!"

Held by the collar of his shirt, Asshole #3 struggled against his attackers grip, frantically pawing at the rough, worn sleeve of a black cargo jacket as it dragged him toward the edge of the roof.

For as long as he could remember, he'd worked as muscle-for-hire for the mob, making a living busting kneecaps, shutting up witnesses, and tossing bodies in trash compactors.

Sickeningly, he thought it to be an honest living, and prided himself upon it because it taught him a skill invaluable in his line of work.

How to recognize a wise guy.

It had saved his ass more times than he could count, and allowed him to keep his face firmly intact over the years.

But as he ran through his mental checklist of cues, the attacker's features began becoming steadily more visible, the man entering the dim haze of a single streetlight—which overlooked the back-alley down below.

Eyes widening, they trailed down to the assailant's chest, every vein and artery in his body turning to ice as he came face to face with a snarling, silver skull, spray-painted onto a thick, Kevlar vest.

'No... Fuckin'... Way.'

This... is where Asshole #3 realized he was in deeeep shit.

Letting out rasped wheeze of fear, Asshole #3 began struggling like never before, snorting and panting like a pig on the way to slaughter as he threw his hands up in surrender.

"Dio, aiutami! I know who you are! You got the wrong guy! I'm tellin' ya, I didn't do nothin'!"

Frank paid his pleas no mind, sizing him up with a disgusted glare as he let out a sharp exhale from his nose, finally winding up and slamming the bastard's face into the concrete ledge.

A wet crack echoed through the air as Asshole #3's cheek collided with the sharpened edge, a whimpering scream of pain quick to follow as Frank pressed his boot into the back of his head, further slicing into the flesh and exacerbating what was—without a doubt—a shattered cheekbone.

"Cazzo!" Asshole #3 screeched, hands frantically grasping for anything to hold on to as the boot split his face further and further. "I swear on my mother's grave, I ain't do nothin'! You got the wrong guy!"

Frank scoffed, almost amused by his blubbering.

Guys like him had no honor, and lies flowed out their mouths like water.

You couldn't trust them as far as you could throw them.

(Which, in Frank's case, was pretty far, but who was really checking?)

Without a single falter, he pressed his boot harder against the man's skull, waiting until he heard another sharp crack before letting up ever-so slightly.

"The hell you doin' up here while all your buddies are inside, yeah?" Frank's voice rumbled from deep within his chest, revulsion leaking from his every pore as if talking to the creep would give him hives.

With a familiar click-click, he pressed his sawn-off, double barrel into the man's toupee.

"You lie... I paint your brains all over this roof."

"I'm 'sposed to be lookin' out for the cops!" Asshole #3 answered almost instantly. "They upped the number of cars on patrol 'bout a week ago, and our guys've been gettin' picked up left an' right!"

He grunted, as if suddenly remembering an annoying detail.

"The woman they got in there's a fuckin' loudmouth. Couldn't take no chances."

At that, Frank's brow furrowed, worry spiking in his chest almost instantly.

Woman... loudmouth... lookout.

It was safe to say his mind was already running toward the worse case scenario.

As if on cue, the back door of the building was kicked open, the sound of scuffling feet and struggling grunts reverberating through the alley below.

"Fuckin' assholes!" you exclaimed, thrashing frantically against the harsh grip of the two men dragging you out. "I still got a week left! I'll get you the goddamn money!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Asshole #1 barked, shifting his grip to strike a cruel, ear-piercing slap across your face. "M'sick of hearin' your fuckin' mouth!"

"Too goddamn bad!" you quickly recovered, snapping your head over to him and spitting a glob of blood in his face.

"Che cazzo!"

"Tone, I think the bitch broke my fuckin' nose," Asshole #2 winced, lightly tapping his painfully crooked sniffer as he held his head back, halting the steady flow of blood pouring out his nostrils. "Oh, God, is it bad?"

"Who gives a shit, asshole, you weren't pretty to begin with," Asshole #4 scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Let's just get this done, alright? I got an early mornin' t'morrow."

Nodding in agreement, Assholes #1 and #2 assumed position, holding you up by your arms as #4 stood before you.

Weakly lifting your head, you let out a humorless laugh, your teeth flashing in a weak, bloody grin as you sized up the man before you.

"What?" you scoffed. "You bastards gonna bust my knee 'cause I didn't pay you a week early?"

#4 smirked, amused by your lack of fear.

"Maybe..." he shrugged, indifferent. "What would ya say if we did?"

"Tough shit," you glared. "I'll serve drinks in a boot."

At that, the men burst into heartless laughter, absolutely tickled by your response.

"Well, I hate to break it to ya, sweetheart... but that's not gonna happen."

Suddenly, the back door burst open once again, another man exiting, but with a certain something in his arms that drained all the color from your face.

'No... no, no, no, no, no, no!'

"Mommy!" your four year-old daughter cried, tears streaking down her cheeks under the man's tight grip.

"Mia!" you gasped, eyes wide with fear before you snapped your head over to the men with a sharp glare. "You bastards! She's got nothing to do with this! You keep her out of it!"

With a sigh, #4 shrugged once again, slowly drawing a handgun from his pocket.

"See, the boss thinks differently," he stated, twirling it around on his finger. "We had an agreement, (y/n). We lent you money, you kept your apartment."

His gaze sharpened, expression turning stony as he glanced at you.

"But my sources are tellin' me now that you was plannin' on skippin' town."

"Bullshit!" you barked, thrashing once again in their grip. "If I had the cash to do that, I wouldn't be takin' loans from you!"

"Well, either way, the boss thought what better way to relieve your financial burdens then dispatchin' the main money-eater in your household," he turned, drawing his gun and aiming directly for your daughter's face, Mia screaming at the sight. "I know kids can be such a pain."

"Motherfucker! You touch her, I swear to God I will fucking kill you!" you shouted, frantically, tears welling in your eyes as you desperately tried to break free. "She has nothing to do with this! You keep her out of it!"

"This ain't up for debate, sweetheart," he chuckled, clicking off the safety.

"Hey! No, no, no, no no! Please! She didn't do anything wrong!" you sputtered, heart breaking as they shoved her to the ground, dirtying her light pink puffer jacket. "I'm right here! Just fuckin' take me! Don't do this!"

"Mommy, I'm scared!" Mia wailed, her tiny hands reaching out for you in fear as Asshole #5 pinned her down with his grimy boot. "Mommy!"

"Goddammit! I will fucking kill you, you hear me?! I will fucking kill you!" you barked, struggling violently against the men's hold. "Fucking shit!"

"Say goodbye, kid," #4 grinned, pressing the barrel of his gun into her forehead.

"NO! Let her go! Look at me! I'm right here! Please! She's got nothin' to do with this! Let her go!"

"MOMMY!"

"PLEASE!"

"AHHHH!" a deep, loud, and furious voice roared, a man with a skull on his chest emerging from the shadows guns blazing, his first shot completely blowing the face off of #4.

Instantly, the men forgot about you and Mia, dropping you and opening fire on your mystery savior as your daughter let out a terrified scream.

"Mia!" you called, scrambling to your feet and limping toward her on shaky legs.

The bastards had already done a number on you inside—especially since you couldn't shut your mouth—so to say you were hurting was an understatement.

But you couldn't care less.

They way you were feeling, you might as well have been Wonder Woman.

"Momma!" she cried, running toward you with puffy cheeks and bleary eyes.

Utterly relieved, you pulled her into your chest, having just seen your whole world flash before your eyes.

"Oh, my sweet girl!" you muttered into her hair, peppering kisses all over her face as you rocked back and forth. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you? You were so brave for me, honey. My big, brave girl."

"Momma, I wanna go home!" she sobbed, her tiny hands fisting the fabric of your shirt with an iron grip, her shoulders flinching at every gunshot.

"We're goin' home, honey, we're goin' home," you promised, quickly scooping her up and turning around, making a run for it. "Just keep your head down, baby, okay? Don't look up."

Carefully, you pressed your hand into the back of her head, burying her face in your shoulder to shield her from the carnage behind you—blood and blown off limbs strewn all over the place.

"La puttana se ne va!" #2 shouted over the gunfire.

"Vai a prenderla, cazzo!" #1 ordered before taking a bullet to the shoulder.

Quickly, #2 gave chase, running after you both at a terrifyingly fast pace, the sound of his wing-tips clacking against the ground getting closer and closer.

'Fuck!'

"Torna qui!" he spat, shooting in your direction.

Mia let out another terrified scream as bullets whizzed past, burrowing herself further into your shoulder as your breath hitched, your eyes trained on the area in front of you as you focused all energy on your escape.

Nothing else mattered.

Not the bastard trying to kill you.

Not the mystery man trying to save you.

Not even yourself.

At that very moment, your prime objective was ensuring your daughter survived the night, no matter what murderer or mobster stood in your way.

"Puttana!"

Another shot fired, whizzing through the air with a faint whoosh, only to finish with some sort of wet twick!

At first, you believed it flew past, too occupied with running to think.

But as a sharp burning sensation began to erupt from your side, you were suddenly hyper-aware of what had just happened, eyes widening slightly as you fought the urge to clutch your stomach.

Desperately, you tried to keep up your fast pace, but the pain quickly grew debilitating, forcing your legs to lock up and stall in place.

With a sharp gasp, you fell to the ground, tightly clutching your girl as you fell to the cold, hard ground.

"NO!!" the furious voice yelled, the sound of heavy boots echoing throughout the alley as they frantically thumped in your direction, audibly tackling Asshole #2.

"Momma!" Mia gasped, large eyes wide as you used the last of your strength to shove her to her feet.

Your heart broke at the sight of your blood splattered across her jacket, and the horrified look on her face.

"Mia... run!" you heaved, unable to catch your breath as your hands pressed harshly against your wound, the burning sensation now that of molten fire. "Now!"

"I'm not leaving you, Mommy!" she sobbed, dropping to her knees and snatching up your hand, holding on for dear life.

Panting, you were rendered unable to argue, your body taking over and desperately trying to get some oxygen into your lungs.

Those action movies and superhero shows had it all wrong; getting shot wasn't some little injury you could shake off

It hurt like a bitch.

"No, no, no, no," the mystery man finally made his way over, eyes wide and face splattered with blood as he dropped to a knee next to you both. "Hey, hey, hey..."

He moved to cradle your head, but Mia was quick to put a stop to him.

"No! Don't hurt my mommy!" she sniffled, draping herself over your body as a shield.

The action would have melted his heart were it not for the dire circumstances.

"I'm not gonna hurt your mommy. I promise," he quickly assured, rough voice having a slight shake as he threw off his jacket and tore out a section of his shirt. "I'm gonna help fix her booboo, but you gotta move out the way so I can, okay?"

Warily, she nodded, large eyes giving him one more once over before she sat back up.

Quickly, he moved your blood-soaked hands, a loud wail ripping from your lips as he tightly pressed the fabric against your wound.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart," he softly apologized, attempting to soothe and talk you through the pain. "Gotta keep the pressure on."

"Mnnne... my baby," you ground out through gritted teeth, soft gasps pulling air back in after every other word. "My baby."

"She's right here, alright?" he assured, quickly, attempting to throw on a smile. "Your girl's right here. Not a scratch on 'er."

Frantic, your hand grabbed his forearm, the tightness of your grip surprising him considering your weakened state.

"You... mmmmm... take her!" you sputtered, determined to get your message out. "Far! Mnnnnne... protect!... mob!"

"Easy, sweetheart," he cooed, free hand carefully resting over yours. "I've got 'er. Nothin's gonna happen to your girl while I'm with ya. I promise."

With a soft grunt, he scooped his hands under you, getting ready to hoist you up.

"I gotta pick you up now, alright? Gotta get you fixed up," he lifted you—much to your discomfort—with little to no effort, before turning to Mia. "What's your name, honey?"

Quickly, she glanced toward you, looking for confirmation.

You nodded, albeit faintly.

It's okay.

"Mia," she mumbled, quietly.

At that, he flashed what looked like an uncharacteristically warm smile.

"Alright, Mia, you stay right by me while we're movin', okay?" he ordered, already starting down the alley. "Hold on to your mommy's ankle."

She nodded, complying without protest as the three of you neared the street, the sounds of civilization finally flooding back through your ears.

"What's your name, mister?" Mia asked, her tiny, tired voice like a punch to the gut.

He paused a moment, before settling on his answer.

"Frank."

She paused, too, almost mimicking him, before gracing him with a faint grin.

"Thank you for saving my mommy, Mr. Frank."

If his heart didn’t melt before, it was mush now.

With a grin, he gave her hair a soft pat, glancing down at her face with a wistful look.

“No problem, sweetheart… no problem.”

[yellow-dejavu]

I recently rewatched Death Note, and I found Light's death even sadder than I remembered. Everything about it is so tragic. The way he fell into his own trap. How Aizawa, Mogi, Ide and Matsuda trusted him all these years only to be betrayed by him. They really wanted for Light not to be Kira. Matsuda was so wholesome during the whole anime and he was the first one to shoot. Matsuda had a lot of respect for Light's father and he was the least likely to ever suspect. He really wanted for Light to be innocent, and for Soichiro's peace to be the truth. Matsuda's anger and sadness were so justified and palpable.

Also, the way Light is just so unlike himself. Completely in survival mode. Anything for trying to get out of it and win. Telling Mikami to do something when there is no way. Light even called Takada and Misa for help when he made it impossible for any of them to help him. He killed Takada and made Misa forget about the death note. It makes sense that he was so irrational, just a human in his last moments trying to save his life. In the anime, he gets to run and Light sees a younger version of himself that he can't reach anymore. It’s too late, and he's been running for too long. Look how far he has come. There's nowhere left to go, and it’s time for him to rest in the middle of the stairs. The way Ryuk calmly writes his name away from all the chaos, so different from the manga and yet so sad. Regardless of everything, Ryuk would be the one to take Light’s life when the time came.

When the team went looking for Light after he ran away. Near did not really care about him anymore, Light was done. Although his actions would always leave the mark of losing Mello, who was his other half. Even if Near and Mello could not reach L separately, they could reach him together. Mello gave his life for the case, just as L lost his. Like Near, Light lost his other half. When L died, it did not matter if he had to be L number two or had to deal with his successor. Light just couldn't stop the connection between L and Kira from existing. In the anime, a hallucination of L is the last thing Light sees, just as L has one last look at Light before he dies. Kira's light couldn't exist without L's shadow.

[phonefaceenthusiast]

Something i feel like doesn't get touched upon: Henry is aware he's a fictional character. This was confirmed by Dogman himself on several occasions.

But there's a catch: Unlike other self-aware characters, Henry actively hides this from the player, as he knows we would try to stop him.

He makes it sound like his 'ultimate goal' is removing the shackles of mortality from humankind to foul the player, who doesn't know he's self-aware and could fully buy it. But that's not his end goal.

Major hints towards this:

"Once enough souls are collected, i will have a substantial number of souls to produce the machine that i have hoped to build from day one. A machine that can sucessfully take an adult male from our realm to another, and back again. Soon, i aim to no longer be in this realm at all." - Tape 5 (JOY4)

Henry talks about gathering souls to build a machine to escape Dayshift at Freddy's, however he words his goals in such a way that you could interpret "ascending to another realm" as him surpassing his own mortality, but that's actually just a small step on his plan: First, he finds a way to become immortal so that he has unlimited time living, THEN he starts researching ways to enter the real world (in this case, through a machine).

DSAF 3 Legacy ending - through the entire route, Henry slowly strips away the player's control over Jack. The explanation for this is that Miller has a passive aura (his influence, HIS LEGACY) that can corrupt people all while he's still in the void, which you can with see with Legacy Jack:

In dsaf 1, Dave convinces him to join him. At this point Jack just wants to mess around with him while having some fun to boot. He's like "Yeah we can do that, why not". He's not evil (yet), he just wants to goof around.

In dsaf 2, Henry's influence starts seeping in: Legacy gets more and more malicious as the route goes on BUT there's still a small fragment of his humanity in him: Dave mentions that Jack looks genuinely sad after Peter's speech, showing that it affected him and maybe even led him to reflect on his actions, showing that Legacy isn't an near emotionless monster (...yet...).

By the end of Dsaf 3, Miller's influence has degraded Jack to merely a vessel, with no free-will nor conscience (we, the player, are Jack's conscience since he doesn't have a soul. Gonna elaborate more on that in a minute); He straight up BLOCKS US from choosing a dialogue option that could ruin his plans; At this point, Henry has more control over the player character than we do, and that leads up to the most symbolical moment of Henry's self awareness:

At the end of the route, once Henry has full control of Jacktrap, the first thing he does is cut ALL contact with the player and make himself untraceable. He does this by crashing the game and deleting the save file, but he's still somewhere in your device, secretly researching a way out through his vessel while you are literally unable to find him. We can't find or control Jack, they're both just... Gone.

Worth mentioning that hes also immortal so he has all the time in the world to accomplish his goal and no oposition. HE WON.

Some other minor hints:

This poster that can appear on the Flipside.

"This universe is critically misunderstood" - tape 1 (JOY1)

Aware that the universe doesn't restrict itself solely to the game.

"My influence... the culmination of my being... I leaked into your world. Go ahead, let me DIE. I'll be back. I always COME BACK!" - DSAF 3 Good Ending

"your world" refers to irl, he's saying that the evil that exists and can harm real people is part of him.

After someone asked on reddit about what happens after the Dsaf 3 Evil ending, Dogman himself replied "Henry probably does some DDLC type-shit and tries to become real" (i couldn't find the comment itself but i swear it was real i'm not going insane).

Henry would NEVER directly aknowledge us as that would give himself away; he knows we are seeing every single one of his moments, hearing every single conversation, so he leaves a red herring (making it seem like his ultimate goal is immortality) to throw us off.

He sees us as this looming threat to his plans that is always there and must not be undestimated, not even when things are under his control.