#I would have had much more progress if you all didn’t just gang up on me and help you traitors

[moonilit]

"But in not babygirling Diluc you've become him" "still would rather die than do it"

*diluc voice* "If I had a choice between babygirlifying Diluc and being him, I would rather get hit by a meteor."

Diluc doesn’t have an embarrassing crush on the fatui he is just an edgy lord, our situations are nothing alike, mine is much worse

[scoutswritingcorner]

i got two things; would u ever add more characters to the helluva boss list??

second thing was my request lol :3

can i get a blitzø x gn!sinner!reader headcanons where reader is so down on their luck that they are applying to randoms jobs and the only one that got back to them was I.M.P lol and the slow progression of their relationship to becoming lovers :D

Pure Luck Or Dumb Luck?

Blitzø x GN!Reader

TW: FLUFF- A mention of a little nsfw but nothing explicit

A/n: Blitz! Our favorite Boss! And to answer your question, yes I will! I’m just writing out for the gang first so I can get used to writing for the characters before I move onto other characters!

Let me set the scene:

You recently had been fired from your last job for punching a customer who had been harassing you lately. It was well deserved but it had landed you in the unemployment category of working. So you applied to every single work ad you could get your hands on. They all rejected you except for one that had been the infamous, I.M.P! Maybe not so infamous..but they do amazing jobs, you’ve heard and you got an interview to go to THE NEXT DAY?!?!?

-🐴 Well fast forward- you do land the interview but depending if you know how to kill or shoot a gun depends if you need training. By training I mean going out in the human world and killing to get you over your nerves. Blitz is strict but fair with this. If you want to be out on the field, you have to kill. If not he can let you be the receptionist with Loona or the janitor! They need one badly- dried blood is hard to get out of the wooden floors and carpets.

-🐴Now! If you do need training, he’s gonna send Millie and Moxxie with you, the sweetest people to help and can validate your feelings on taking a life. Moxxie understands the hesitation.

-🐴 Blitz isn’t stupid (he can be but shh), he knows a good killer when he sees one (and a hottie). Now he won’t hold your hand during missions especially if you can handle yourself but if you still got some jitters in you about killing? He’ll give you an easy target to kill.

-🐴After a few months into the job? He starts to become friendlier with you, like instead of sending you out to get coffee? He asks if you want coffee and then asks if you can go get it cause he’s out of money. He’ll pay you back! (I mean at least he’s asking instead of yelling at you to go get it)

-🐴I swear he does become nicer over time but it takes so long cause he has trust issues. 

-🐴 But once you do become his friend or best friend as he puts it, oh boy he’s clinging to you and not letting go. You get so many privileges that no one else does and it's a blessing but a curse. Cause you get to know what he’s thinking all the time and then he tells you all of his horses names.

-🐴You start catching feelings for him and realize it at midnight when your alone in your bed. Your feelings go from “oh fuck-” to “I’d bang him” IN SECONDS- The whiplash is real.

-🐴Blitzo? Falls harder and he only realizes it when you bring him to a horse show and he’s watching you instead of the horses. But what really solidifies it for him? Is when you're able to talk your way into allowing Blitzo to ride and take pictures with the horses. 

-🐴 He won’t shut up about you when your not in the office, like you’d leave to go pick up lunch for everyone and as soon as you walk out the door. “Have you noticed how hot they are?” “Sir-”

-🐴Millie ships it so fucking hard. But because he doesn’t want to admit it and you probably think he won’t reciprocate your feelings, it’s a whole dance for a LONG time. Moxxie is about to rip his fucking hair out- while initially he didn’t care for it much- he’s as much as invested as his wife is. JUST FUCKING KISS PLEASE- 

-🐴 Loona is in on it too but she has a betting pool going with Millie. She’s either gonna be fifty bucks richer or out of fifty bucks. 

-🐴Either way it will be a long ass time before you end up pulling him into a kiss one night. Maybe you both were at your place watching a movie or you were out on the town with him and he’s walking you back to your apartment. 

-🐴 It ends up with you waking up in the morning curled up in your bed with your head on his bare chest. You abruptly wake him up by shaking him awake and staring at him cause you just slept with your best friend who is also your boss??

-🐴 this ends up with a huge talk and you both realize your feelings are mutual and POOF you’re dating.

-🐴This silly little Imp loves kisses and going on fun but not expensive dates! That doesn’t mean he won’t spoil the shit out of you cause he will! But he likes it when you are both relaxed and having fun.

-🐴Now he tries to keep your relationship out of work (despite working together) but he swoons or cheers you on if you get a kill or you are just being protective. His tail curls into a little heart.

-🐴 Wear his clothes if you can- especially his leather jacket it makes him puff his chest out in pride. He will wear your clothes, especially your shirts when he goes to bed or if you have a break!

-🐴Oh boy! He’s a jealous little imp! Not because he doesn’t trust you, it's because he doesn't think highly of himself and will often try to push you away. Don’t let that scare you, just hug him close.

[yeeehwa]

The Leaders

Pairing: ot8 Ateex x fem!reader

genre: mafia, gang, smut, fluff

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: blood. violence. cursing. slight strangulation. knives. please lmk if I missed anything <3

a/n: this is extremely unedited, but I wanted to post something I've had cookin for a while. title is in progress, as well as the plot, so please take it with a grain of salt. still a huge work in progress! please let me know what you think as feedback is always appreciated!

They’re coming.

The thought excited you more than it should, but they were finally coming. It made you giddy just thinking about it.

A static sounded in your ear as Hajoon, your gangs ‘technology specialist’ as he likes to correct you, spoke. “They’re on the grounds. Get into position.”

You scoffed, knowing full well he heard through the ear piece. “Bold of you to assume I’m not already in it.” You threw the baseball that had been resting on the desk into the air, catching it once gravity decided to intervene.

A cheeky smile formed on your face as he sighed in exasperation. “You do understand that I’m literally watching you throw the baseball around while you have your boots up on the Boss’s desk, throwing said baseball.”

Looking towards where you knew the cameras were placed, you stuck your tongue out.

“Oh, very mature Y/N.”

“Suck a dick Joon.” You pressed a button on the side of your in-ear, cutting the connection to him as you stood up. Slowly, you stretched your arms above your head, flicking the bird to the man you knew was monitoring your every move.

You knew him, and knew he was rolling his eyes at the gesture, but smiling at your image on his screens affectionately.

Rolling your neck and hearing a satisfying crack, you smiled, grabbed a small rope that hung from the beams in the ceiling, and started to climb. 

You settled yourself into the comfortable darkness of the shadows in the beams in the ceiling. Tucking your braided hair back into your hood, you pull it up over your head, and adjusted your black neck gaiter over your nose, leaving only your eyes exposed. You pulled the rope up next to you, making sure none of it was hanging.

A smirk came over your face as the doors burst open. Seven men entered the room in pairs, the lone man at the back of the group just sauntering in, eyes flicking around the room in disinterest. 

“Yeosang,” one of them whispered. “Where did your contact say it was?”

Contact? Traitor. There was a rat among your crew. You filed away the information to report back to the boss.

It was hard to keep track of all of the men in the room. You thought they’d only send two. HaJoon said there would most likely be two. ‘Shit.” 

Wooyoungs head jerked as he heard your quiet curse, following the direction the noise came from. You locked eyes with him, but he didn’t notice. Your full black outfit helping to keep you hidden. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head, telling himself that he had just imagined it.

Yunhos eyes shifted around the room. Something to him felt off. The air was tense, but there was a feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right. “Something doesn’t feel right Hwa.”

A slight nod from the man was all he got in acknowledgement. He felt it too. It was too easy for them to get in. Too easy to navigate, considering how much security their recon had reported strolling the grounds. 

“Keep your guard up.” The command from their Captain came through their in-ears. “This is most likely a trap.”

You stood then, smiling when you felt the satisfying stretch of your legs. A wolfish grin came over your face as you decided to make your grand entrance.

Arms stretched out to either side of you, rope grasped tightly in your hand, you slowly let yourself teeter on the edge, before falling. The adrenaline and anticipation of the fall and thought of a potential fight makes your heart jump in excitement.

You landed on the broad shoulders of the tallest one, surprising them all as you wrapped your legs around his neck, locking them, and using the momentum of catching him off guard to fling both of you forward. Putting all of your weight into it, you sent the both of you crashing down. Once you felt the solid floor underneath you, you rolled, using the forward motion to get back on your feet and disappear back into the shadows.

“What the fuck?” Mingi cried as he rushed towards Yunhos form. He laid there, stunned. Not unconscious, but dazed, trying to process the last few seconds. Mingi kneeled next to his best friend, helping him into a sitting position.

The others had their guns out and at the ready, wildly swinging them from side to side, aiming at nothing and everything. Looking for some kind of movement. Waiting for a noise from the assailant. Anything that would give them some kind of hint of what they were up against.

They all calmed down, giving it a second before striking again. Pulling some of your throwing knives from your belt, you silently took aim at the closest figure to you. A sickening squelching sound was heard as you hit your mark, the blade sinking into his arm.

Wooyoung yelped as he felt the stinging pain of the knife in his bicep. He panicked, firing his pistol in the general direction that it had come from. Yells and a cry for him to stop as the rest of them ducked down, trying to avoid the friendly fire. “What’s happening?” Hongjoong radioed in. He heard the commotion, but felt detached that he couldn’t see and assess the situation. 

“They have a Ninja!” Wooyoung screeched as San pulled the small knife from his arm, tightening the band that he had around his arm as a makeshift tourniquet.

“An assassin.” Seonghwa shot Wooyoung a look. “They knew we were coming.”

“Get the files and get out.” five pairs of eyes looked at Yeosang, who nodded in return and slipped away.

Choosing to ignore him for now, you eyed the situation in front of you, assessing who to target next. What you should use on him. Your dagger? The whip you keep on your side? A wide smile spread across your face as an idea struck you.

You let yourself make noise. Boots pounding on the hardwood floor as you slowly emerged from the shadows, cocking your head to the side, and held both your arms up in a surrender. Smirking under your mask, you spoke. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not fair to bring a gun to a knife fight?” The sounds of bullets being chambered caused you no concern. You enjoyed this game.

“Who are you?” A venomous look in the eyes of Jongho. His hands were free of weapons, but you knew how deadly his fists were. Unlike them, you had done your research.

“Aww Baby Bear. You don’t recognize me?” you pouted at him. “I’m hurt. I remember you.” 

“Y…Y/N?” Yunho addressed you, one arm slung around Mingi’s shoulder as he fully lifted him off the ground. 

“It’s Mist. But close enough.” You shrugged.

Tension hung in the air as they processed. Mist. The assassin known all over the underground, ruthless, deadly. San glanced down at the throwing knife he pulled out of Wooyoung, seeing your cursive M on the handle. The calling card you left at every kill.

Seonghwas eyes scanned you up and down. He was the only one whose expression never changed once they realized it was you. His eyes were cold, and calculated. “You’re not my Y/N.”

HaJoon then decided to interrupt. “Girl, what the hell are you doing?”

Rolling your eyes you let out an exasperated sigh. “Joon, I'm having fun.” you whined out at him.

“Boss is gonna kill you if you keep going. Take them out and grab the files. Order from the Boss.” a disconnecting sound came and you rolled your eyes again.

“Well.” You sounded disappointed. “I’d hate to ruin such a pretty face.” you shrugged. “All well.” Your fingers quickly tapped a button you had rigged on your palms, and more of your throwing knives shot into the air. Catching them, you didn’t hesitate to immediately throw them at Seonghwa.

He dodged, pulling his pistol from its holster and aimed towards you. He lost sight as you jumped back into the shadows.

“Get out of there.” Hongjoong command. His self control strung tight as he heard your voice. It had snapped when you confirmed it was, in fact, you. His frustration came out in a growl, and he pulled his only way to communicate with the others out of his ear, smashing it. Anger for what you had become. Sadness that he couldn’t stop it. Emotions squeezed his heart as he swept all of the plans, his desk lamp, and a replica of his favorite ship, onto the floor, shattering on impact. Another frustrated noise left him as he sat in his pile of destruction.

“Captain?” Mingi had kept repeating.

“You heard him. We have to go.” Seonghwa quickly started taking steps back, eyes and gun never leaving the spot where you disappeared. A flash of silver came for him out of his peripheral, and he moved, but not soon enough. The sharpened edge caught his cheek, leaving a shallow cut. 

“Hwa, without the files?” Wooyoung darted to take a step towards the darkness. A rope shot out from the darkness, lassoing itself around Wooyoungs neck, pulling him into you.

“Hey there gorgeous,” you kissed his cheek as you tightened the rope around his neck. “No hard feelings.” 

His fingered clawed at your hands, trying to make you loosen your grip on it, as something slammed into you, throwing you to the floor.

“Ah. Yeosang. I was wondering when you were gonna show up. My sweet little Doberman to the rescue.” You stood up, dusted yourself off, and motioned for Yeosang to come at you. He stood there, just staring at you.

“Are you gonna make the first move? Or are you too much of a pussy?” You batted your lashes at him. “Sweet baby Yeosang. Who couldn’t hurt a fly. Just like I re- oof!” the wind was knocked out of you as he rushed you, his shoulder making contact with your chest and knocking you flat on your back.

You laughed. Even though he didn’t say anything, you knew you got under his skin. You coughed, groaning as you caught your breath, but still, you couldn’t help but rile him up even more. You tutted your tongue towards him and rolled to your side, spitting out a bit of blood. “I see I hit a nerve there.”

He scoffed at you, and looked over his shoulder quickly, making sure the others were getting out. He saw them all quickly rushing out, Wooyoung being supported by San as he sputtered and coughed. Angry red marks were seen all around his neck, thanks to you and your rope. Yeosangs vision turned red as he saw the marks, and saw how you just laughed and taunted him.

He stalked towards you, hand coming down to grasp your throat, grip tight. He picked you up and slammed you into the wall. You winced a bit as the back of your head made contact with the wall.

“Oh kinky. It’s always the quiet ones that are the freaks.” Gasping for breath and dizzy from the impact of your head, you still were able to get a quip out, which made the hand around your throat tighten, and his other hand made its way to your hair, pushing your head roughly back into the wall.

He looked down at you, as you started at him, slightly dazed from both hits to your head. He smirked. “Not so big and strong now, are you Y/N-nnie?” His grip tightened even more. “Can’t hide in the shadows anymore.”

He felt your hands weaken its grasp on his own, before falling limp at your side. Your body slumped as you slipped into unconsciousness.

The hold on your throat was released, your unconscious body falling unceremoniously to the floor. Yeosang turned his back on you, bag slung over his shoulder. He didn’t look back.

“Did you kill her?” Yunho questioned; his only acknowledgement of Yeosang regrouping with them. A small shake of his head, and a sigh of relief came from him and a few others.

“Did you get them?”

Yeosang unzipped his bag, showcasing its contents to the others. In it, they saw a pile of papers, folders, and even a miniature of an old pirate ship. Hongjoong will be happy.

A heated discussion broke out between San and Wooyoung, drawing the attention of the others. “We have to go back,” San finally announced.

“We can’t.” the monotone Seonghwas voice 

“Y/N is there!”

“Y/N picked her side. There’s nothing we can do about it. We got what we were after.” The door slammed as the car took off, taking them away from you and back to their Captain.

[sleepysnk]

Hey! Saw your headcanons are open :) I love your writing so thought I would pop in.

What about headcanons for Draken and how he progresses from figuring out his feelings for someone to eventually asking them out?

🖤

a/n: hi nonnie! this was request was so fucking cute! so thank you for sending this in, i hope you enjoy! <3

characters: ken (draken) ryuguji

warnings: fluff, mentions of romantic feelings, confessions, mentions of food, use of pet names (baby, babe), draken being a cutie and kinda shy.

ASKING YOU OUT.

ken (draken) ryuguji:

- this man having a crush on you?? oh god, i hope you understand how luck you are!!

- draken is a gentleman. i will say this until the day i die. he’s a very respectful person and he honestly would be such an amazing guy to be with. now while he may be a great man, he can feel really fuzzy about his feelings. there’s so much that goes on his life and he wouldn’t really know how to react to it at first. he’s of course happy, but he’s also somewhat conflicted.

- he caught feelings for you when he walked you home one night after a toman meeting. you were at the park just a few blocks away and he wanted to make sure you got home safe. most people were intimidated by toman’s number two, so you would never get messed with if draken was by your side.

- you were just someone who understood him on certain levels. not to mention, you were absolutely attractive and sweet in some many ways. draken’s feelings for you were just so intense that he couldn’t go a second without thinking of you, or even sending you a message to ask how you were doing. he cared so much about you and all he wanted was to be with you at all costs. he knew he was a good guy. he knew how to treat the person he was dating, so why not go for it?

- he definitely shows signs that he likes you. i’m saying like really clear signs.

- he would sometimes treat you to food or snacks whenever he’d go to the convenient store. i also feel like when he likes someone, he often spills details about his personal life. you were shocked to hear about his past with his mother, and how he grew up in a brothel his entire life. however, that didn’t change how you saw the man, and he was thankful that you were there to listen and not make him feel embarrassed for such a thing.

- has probably called you babe on accident.

- i mentioned above that he is somewhat conflicted. he’s in a gang and he’s seen what happens to people’s significant others as a result. he doesn’t want to drag you into that or possibly scare you. if anything, he had such a deep desire to keep your safe. i headcanon that he’s a very protective guy, even if you aren’t his s/o.

- draken just wasn’t sure how he wanted to ask you out. he had liked you for a while. it didn’t help that mikey wasn’t the greatest to come to when it came to romantic advice. there was even an occasion where he almost dropped the bomb on you when the three of you went out for ramen on night. draken swore to god he was going to crush mikey’s head when he kept talking about him liking somebody.

- he decided to just ask you out on a random afternoon. he did a lot of thinking to the point where his brain was fried from all of the thoughts he had in it. he didn’t want to be dramatic or make it a huge thing, but he also didn’t want to put little effort. he wanted it to be something you remembered, but he feared your rejection. he found a lot of comfort and trust in you as a person. being rejected and told no would hurt this man’s soul, but of course, he would respect you.

- oh god he was nervous.

- he messaged you earlier that day to come and meet him at one of the parks near your house. you went and became confused when you saw him standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. more specifically, your favorite ones.

- draken saw you and almost lost his shit when you stepped towards him. he smelled the perfume that came from your clothes and it honestly made him want to pass out. he was a confident guy but that was quickly fading now that you were right there in front of him. he didn’t want to mess it up and say the wrong thing, so he decided to just start talking. though, it was kind of hard because you were just so cute and his words got scrambled.

- “ken, what are you trying to say?” “i-i.. fuck, i like you.”

- you were not expecting it whatsoever. draken started to feel somewhat embarrassed because of how blunt he was. he didn’t mean to, but he would have kept stuttering if he didn’t. he also was a blushing mess. his cheeks were tinted pink and you didn’t fail to notice it.

- however, when you started giggling and smiling, this man’s face dropped. you looked so cute with that grin on your features that he completely forgot what had just happened. he couldn’t read what you were thinking. did you feel the same? were you laughing out of pity?

- “i like you too, draken.. a lot actually.”

- draken was so taken back. he almost dropped the flowers he was holding in his hand. he couldn’t believe it. he thought for a split second you were going add a “just kidding!” but you didn’t.. and he was so taken back. it made him so fucking happy <3.

- he handed you the flowers and was shocked when you kissed his cheek. he almost fell over and his heart exploded at your soft lips against his skin.

- “i promise to treat you better than anybody else. you can count on me, baby.”

- it was your turn to be the shy one now. his words made warmth spread across your cheeks and you couldn’t hide the smile that had appeared on your features. he was so so cute that you thought you were going to just crumble right there. you were so fond of draken that it almost hurt.

- he did end up walking you home and you actually planned a date for the two of you! <3

- i love this man 😔.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Ok y’all it’s time for a grishaverse world-building rant (mainly linked to soc/ck) and there’s a good chance this is gonna turn into a long and rambling post but bare with me.

*CONSISTENT GRISHAVERSE SPOILERS AHEAD*

In the Netflix show, why did they replace Alby’s lion toy with a toy train? I wanna talk about the absence of the lion, but also of all things why did they choose a train?

The train really stuck out to me when watching season 2 and at first I wasn’t my sure why, and just struck it up to the fact that I was expecting a plush lion. I think it’s absolutely notable that they exchanged the lion for a different toy, because the TV show didn’t give us as much opportunity for the foreshadowing surrounding Alby Rollins’ existence as we had in the book, since Van Eck is the key to a lot of the passages that foreshadow Rollins having a child. The fact that Kaz was able to present the lion was what served as “proof” for his attack on Alby, and is one of the best scenes showcasing Kaz’s incredible intellect. Since Kaz had never seen Alby, in fact had no concrete evidence of his existence whatsoever, he based the entire presence of the toy lion on Pekka’s pride in his gang, the Dime Lions. But since the show doesn’t have the opportunity to explain the gang culture of Ketterdam in as much detail as the books, which is obviously understandable and it’s the kind of thing I would expect to be lost in the transition from source to adaptation, they can’t make the assumption that the audience will associate the lion with the Dime Lions, particularly since they haven’t explored the gang tattoos (as a side note the meanings behind the tattoos are just *chefs kiss* but anyway-) So unless they were making specific effort to try and include more references to the lions earlier on, it makes sense to change the toy. It also leaves open the option for later in the show (fingers crossed, I’m praying for good news right now) to bring the lion in for different schemes and to create more anticipation and build up for the absolutely iconic Inej move of replacing the lion with a crow in the last chapter of Crooked Kingdom. So I understand the choice to change the type of toy that Kaz takes from Alby, especially since we already know that it’s Alby being used as the threat in this scene and in the books we didn’t, but of all the options why would they choose a toy train? My best guess is that it’s a nod to the Conductor and the train across the fold in season one, but it kind of annoys me because, other than the train that was added for the show and the tank in ck that is explained as amongst the first of its kind, THERE ARE NO MECHANICAL VEHICLES IN THIS UNIVERSE YET. None!!

We have to remember that the development of a constructed world is based on its needs and it’s understanding of it’s resources, not on mimicking the development of our own world; so although some people are probably thinking ‘well they recently developed flying vehicles, it makes sense for trains to exist before that’ I would genuinely argue that in this world it makes no sense whatsoever. We know from explanations in soc and ck (in Retvenko’s chapter mostly, but also in Joost’s and a few other references) that there has been no need to develop engines for boats because the winds can be calmed or summoned by Squallers; they fill the sails or fend off storms to keep the ships moving, there is no need for development thus far because grisha possess the natural resources to maintain the power they need. But in Ravka the presence of the shadow fold meant it became necessary to develop other options, so progress came about and Nikolai developed the Hummingbird. But it’s very important to note that (to my understanding at least, if you happen to know I’m wrong please feel free to correct me) the Hummingbird is still entirely dependent on Squaller power to maintain its flight, because development is always based on the previous model. Similarly, the tanks being the first motorised vehicles we’re introduced to makes perfect sense in the world we’ve come to know and understand, especially since we’re learning from the perspective of mostly Kerch-born or Kerch-living characters. Jesper tells us that there are very few carriages on the streets of Ketterdam, that horses are a luxury because the space to keep them is a luxury, not because they open up further modes of transportation - this is also emphasised by the knowledge that one of the greatest signs of prosperity in Ketterdam is a house with its own dock. This is because canals are the main way of moving, and since the boats and their squallers are a time-proven method of travel there’s no current need to develop engine mechanisms for boats, and cars aren’t needed because no-one would use them to travel. I’d also like to add that I realise not everyone has access to Squaller power, but the rich of Ketterdam do and they live in an incredibly classist society. In the Barrel, most of the boats are moved by rowing and/or punting, as is made clear at the end of soc when the crew row to meet Van Eck and he is brought by Squallers, and the theme is continued throughout ck.

The most likely place for cars to crop up first, based on what we’ve seen of the different countries, is probably Ravka; the country is a hub of innovation and the fabrikators there are the most free to practice their craft. However, Ravka is also a country that has been at war since it was founded, there is no room for any type of development that does not further their chances of survival against Fjerda, Shu Han, or their own civil war. Other places we might have expected to see motorisation pop up faster could be the farming provinces of Kerch and Novyi Zem, since they could be utilised for tractors and ploughs. But most innovation in Kerch is centralised around Ketterdam, where the engines are currently unecessary, and although I don’t know enough about Novyi Zem to argue either way the auction in Crooked Kingdom may imply that their government’s budget is lower those of Kerch, Fjerda, and Shu Han. (But again, we don’t have bundles of information about the Zemeni government so I’m not super confident there). We do, however, know that Jesper was the only one other than Matthias who already knew what a tank was when they got to Fjerda, and so it’s fair to predict that there’s been at least some development in that area in Novyi Zem, or at least enough interest for news of them to reach the gunsmith Jesper worked with. But let’s assume that the invention did come from Fjerda itself, at least for the time being. This makes perfect sense!! It was mostly likely developed, unbeknownst to Matthias, by the parem-drugged fabrikators being held at the Ice Court. Now that they have access to this power, Fjerda achieves all of the same tickboxes to be the initial place of engine development as Ravka does. Of course, Fjerda is also at war or under threat of it, but I think it’s important to remember that the Fjerdan government doesn’t really see war with Ravka as a threat at all. They see it more as an opportunity to prove themselves, to properly cement their position in the world economy and as a global power, which we know Kerch - or at least the general population of the country, if not the government - does not currently see it as. So it makes sense that their developmental focus would not be on ease of travel for the majority of its people by developing cars or flight machines, but on engines that can be used for dominance: tanks.

I’m hoping I’ve kind of got my point across here even if in a slightly convoluted way, but I want to add Inej’s quote from the scene with the tank to really cement the idea that this was development on a scale they had never experienced before: “They were moving - and not a horse in sight!” Someone who has seen a train at any point in her life, or who has any understanding that trains exist and work, is not going to be absolutely blown away by the concept of moving without the aid of horses. So why pick a train??? I don’t know, I’m clearly thinking far too much into it but I just… I dunno, it bothered me, there were so many other things to choose. I didn’t really mind the train in season one because it was set up like a one-of-a-kind contraption, but the idea of there being toy replicas of steam trains implies a very different level of development in a world clearly implied to be pre- its industrial revolutions.

Anyway, thanks for reading my mad ramblings! I have SO MANY thoughts about world building and structure in the Grishaverse, and world building as a browser topic as well, so if you want to hear anything more please let me know!

[dopscratch]

ok well it looks like there's a little more than five of you

so uh

i started writing a little bit and yknow when i said laios is literally me?

yeah i think i was born to write him

anyway here's a treat for you all, the very first draft of the first few paragraphs of A Culinary Guide to the Barbaric Archipelago

feedback is much appreciated this will probably look fairly different once i end up actually publishing :)

also keep in mind i've only watched the show so if anything seems inaccurate just tell me (preferably spoiler-free/spoiler-light) ___

Laios had no idea what these monsters were, and the thought only excited him. They had shown up as he and his party were traversing a high-ceilinged region in the fifth floor, and everyone was fumbling to fend them off. They were large, frighteningly fast, and were constantly in motion, enough that they were nothing but a near-indecipherable blur as they screeched through the air. 

Marcille had tried exploding them to no avail, the spells hitting nothing but a crumbling wall. Not a single swing of Kensuke had managed to so much as clip them, and fabric shreds floated through the air like autumn leaves as they tore through the party’s items with their talons. Chilchuck was screaming as he ducked and weaved, dodging the masses with some success. Meanwhile, Senshi busied himself trying to recover all of his fallen ingredients after one of the creature’s claws had torn off his pot and ripped open his supply bag, scattering its contents among the bricks. He didn’t even flinch when one sent sparks flying from his helmet. The only things that Laios could make out through the streaks were shimmering scales and sharp talons—either a reptilian or bird-type monster. Well, he’d read once that birds technically were reptiles anyway, but that was certainly besides the point, plus, monsters of either type generally still had their differences...though now that he thought about it, they often were encountered together—Basilisks, Cockatrices, and Coatuls were all combinations of snakes and birds, and white dragons had bird wings—wait, maybe that was why Falin had feathers! He’d thought it greedy at first, to have so many cool features together, but when he really considered it, regular birds had always had scales, on their legs at least! So then, maybe the feathers were just a natural part of it after all! Maybe...

“Maybe dragons aren’t just reptilian monsters, but a special type of bird monster!” Laios didn’t even realize he’d said anything aloud until Chilchuck turned his ire to him.

“What? How does that even matter!? Get a grip, Laios! We need to get the hell out of here!” the half-foot yelled. He grabbed onto Laios’s arm, but before he could try to tug the larger man away, he ducked to avoid an incoming blur. Marcille was having similar issues.

“Forget the food, we need to go!” She shrieked, trying to dissuade Senshi from the Sisyphean task that was collecting his things. Every time he made any sort of progress, a passing monster would swoop in to take a swipe at him, the passing wind sending everything flying once more.

__

first person to guess which httyd dragon is harassing them gets a doodle of your choice from me :)

ALSO, i am debating when in the books i want to set it. on one hand, setting it after the events of all the books could create some interesting dynamics with the main httyd gang and the touden party, though on the other hand that'd make it a lot less accessible for non-httyd readers and also just a massive spoiler fest. so i think setting it sometime before book 8 would also be fun and be able to accomplish what i want it to. and maybe even setting it before/during book 1 could be cool so i could play off of the interactions with the green death, though of course that would also be sacrificing the other httyd characters's development.

either way i think the main plot is that the touden party eats their way across the barbaric archipelago and hiccup horrendous haddock the third the hope and heir to the tribe of hairy hooligans just wants to find out why all the wild dragons are getting so agressive

also ziggerastica is just having a fit

[of-worms-and-fibers]

Wrong Body

Shinya and Tsunagu get hit by a body swap quirk and Shinya HATES it Fluff, Angst with good ending, comfort, trans Shinya, ask Word count: 1100

„Shit, Edgeshot?!“

Jeanist cursed, looking for his husband on the battlefield; in one of the most annoying fights of his career. None of the villains were particularly dangerous, just a group of pranksters with annoying quirks that did nothing but pose semi-mild inconveniences. Hell, calling it a “battlefield” felt ridiculous, it was more like a circus. Some of the heroes were stuck quacking like ducks while others had been made to dance the macarena. It would have been almost funny if the group hadn’t been so active lately, bothering civilians greatly. 

“Jeanist, I’m here!” 

The other called out, and he hurried to where the voice had come from; finding Edge fully alright, albeit a little annoyed looking, among a small group of more heroes who had managed to avoid getting hit by any of the quirks so far.

Jeanist breathed deeply in relief, going to hug Edgeshot briefly; too slow as the rest of the group shouted a warning and jumped aside; a fuzzy shiver ran all over his body, and when he opened his eyes; he wasn’t sure what was wrong at first. He felt the same, didn’t dance or make strange noises. 

“Oh my god Tsunagu-“

Edgeshot exclaimed, and hearing his real name in a battle situation like this could only mean bad news.

“What is it?”

He asked, but immediately noticed what it was; his voice didn’t sound right. Now that he thought of it, his body didn’t feel right. Jeanist almost didn’t want to do it, but he slowly patted his body down, feeling his hips and chest to be far softer than they were supposed to be. In a panicked motion, he reached for his hair, relieved that at least that hadn’t changed. And so he returned his gaze to Edgeshot, who was clearly a lot less calm about it; screaming silently on the inside while uncomfortably tucking at his clothes, trying to cover up the silhouette of his body; a body Tsunagu had seen, years ago, before Shinya’s transition.

But there was nothing for now that could be done about it. Gang Orca sent them home, to see if the quirk would lift overnight and so the two could do nothing but obey his suggestion.

“Okay. We’re physically girls now. We have to stay calm. Why is my voice so annoying?!”

“Welcome to my life.”

Shinya replied bitterly, wrapping a blanket around himself. Clearly, he wasn’t happy with the situation and sensitive to everything about it. Tsunagu brought the dinner, sitting down by the other’s side: 

“You know it doesn’t change anything to me right? You’re no less of a man, even if this predicament is making you feel dysphoric again.”

He said, sitting a bit away from the other, knowing how uncomfortable he was right now. Shinya didn’t eat much at all, and it worried the blonde:

“We should still have your binders, right? I don’t think we got rid of them. I can look for

them, but you need to promise not to wear them to sleep again.”

Shinya merely nodded, and with a kiss on his forehead, Tsu disappeared into the basement. An hour passed, then two until he finally came back:

“Sorry, I got distracted by old clothes. Look at this dress I found!”

He said, showing off a pretty dress he used to wear a lot. It looked even better with his hopefully temporary, more feminine features and he felt gorgeous. Two binders were promptly dropped on Shinya’s lap:

“I sewed little ninja patches on.”

A small smile finally crept on the grey-haired one’s face, which was quickly replaced by tears and a hug; this wasn’t a new sight. But one neither of them had expected again. After hormones and surgeries and a lengthy social transition, they had thought it was over. But of course, life was cruel. It always was with the job they’d taken on, but this was beyond any of that. This wasn’t about getting hurt or dying. This was so much more personal, to both Shinya and himself.

It felt like a setback of years and years of progress and it… frankly, it hurt. Tsu knew that he wasn’t the one having any right to feel hurt, but he did, because he knew he couldn’t do anything but assure and reaffirm his husband. Husband, that’s what he’d always stay no matter what anyone could ever do or say.

“I don’t think I want to have…”

The ninja enthusiast started but Tsunagu just shook his head with a soft smile:

“I know, we don’t have to do anything tonight or until this is over. Don’t you worry about that at all. I’m sure it will be over soon.”

It wasn’t over soon. A week passed, then two, and the two of them were getting increasingly worried. Visiting Kugo a lot, and a quirk specialist who couldn’t tell them more than 

“It’s probably temporary.”

And probably wasn’t good enough. So the panic lasted for a whole month until one morning, the blonde was startled awake by a sudden scream from Shinya, who had come back early in the morning from a night shift:

“I’m normal again!”

With a quick pat down, the blonde assured himself of his own return to normalcy and breathed out in relief. He went to the bathroom, where the love of his life stood half undressed by the mirror.

“Oh thank god. I did like the hips though.”

“Your hips were the only good thing about this whole ordeal. Ugh, I thought I'd have to go through hormones and surgeries again I am not not showering for a week again!” 

Tsunagu laughed, finally able to cuddle Shinya again, after a whole month of needing to be careful about it to not make him uncomfortable:

“Haha no never again. Glad to see your smile again, I missed it.”

He said, brushing a strand of hair out of his face to cup his cheek; the gleam in his eyes was back. The confidence. The smile. The relief. It was all too wonderful to see. He was wonderful to see. Handsome and happy, how he was meant to be. 

“You’re the most beautiful man on this planet, do you know that Shinya?”

“Oh? Strange because I always thought you were.”

They laughed, deeply in love with each other. As they calmed down, only a small chuckle remained as the grey-haired man found his passion to joke again:

“Ryukyu is going to be so disappointed.”

“Oh yeah? She should be happy I’m even sharing you my little worm~”

With that, they continued getting ready for yet another day of hero work, as if nothing had happened, with a refreshed acceptance of whatever it may bring. Because at the end of the day, no matter what could happen, the most important thing was that they had each other.

[twola]

Seven Deadly Sins - IX

PAIRING: low to mid honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. A continuing series.

Warnings: Smut, Violence, Low to Medium Honor Arthur (and all that entails)

Perdition: a state of eternal punishment and damnation into which a sinful and unpenitent person passes after death.

➵ AO3 Link

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“I’m really sorry for you son, it's a hell of a thing.”

Arthur’s world slowed. It shrunk down to the room in this doctor’s office in Saint Denis, closing in on him, choking, like something pressing down on his chest. Making it even harder to breathe than it already is. 

“Wha- what d’ya mean?” He hoarsely asked the doctor, who frowned before turning toward the sink opposite where he sat.

Tuberculosis. Consumption.

“You’re real sick, it's - it's a progressive disease. You’ll be… well, the best thing is rest. And getting somewhere warm and dry and taking it easy now. Is that possible?”

“Sure, I can just take my winters in my country club in California. No, it's not possible.” Arthur retorts icily.

“Well.. like I said, I’m real sorry.”

The doctor moves toward the table, grabbing a syringe. “Let me give you some more energy today, at least.”

Arthur barely registers the pinch of the needle in his arm, but he does feel the rush of energy through his blood, a warming that goes to his head and jolts his weary bones.

The doctor goes back to the table, fiddling with the syringe he just emptied.

“Doc - does it, how - c’n I give it to someone by…?”

He turns around, slowly. The doctor’s eyes flit down to Arthur’s hands - his left ring finger that was conspicuously empty.

“Are you talking about a woman? One you’re intimate with?”

Arthur nods, an even larger pit growing in his stomach.

The doctor’s frown deepens.

-

Arthur Morgan has always been an unrepentant man. He stole, he robbed, he shot and he killed his way through life. He was sure he would get his someday - at the end of a revolver perhaps, or the hangman’s noose. 

He supposed he deserved it, that the higher power he’s never truly believed in would smite him down one day for his deeds - and he had accepted that. Bad men don’t get to have a good life. Why bother changing if all of that blood was going to damn him anyway?

The horse beneath him whinnies as he pushes his spurs into her side, urging her faster, faster, through the tepid and humid marshes of Bluewater, north, north to where the gang had taken refuge after Lakay, at some old blasted hill country camp in the damp and dark hills of Roanoke Ridge.

Arthur found himself praying - to a God he’s never prayed to before - that the punishment he was going to receive would be enough - enough to satisfy the divine being his justice. 

You don’t deserve that punishment.

You don't deserve to die. Eliza didn’t deserve to die. Isaac, that bright and bouncing boy, he certainly did not deserve to die.

The thoughts of damnation and punishment invade his psyche so much so that he does not even realize he’s reached Beaver Hollow, absentmindedly going through the motions of hitching his horse and starting to walk toward Tilly, at the edge of the camp reading a book on a blanket.

“Miss Tilly.”

Tilly looks up and smiles. He doesn’t even have to ask, “She took laundry down to the river.” She nods her head to the left, motioning down the hill toward the winding Kamassa carved out of the Roanoke Valley.

Arthur nods and quickly heads down the trail, unwilling to speak to anyone else at the moment. Thoughts of his impending demise were shoved to the back of his mind - he would face them later.

He needed to see you first.

-

You’re singing, singing, of all things. Scrubbing a shirt against a rock. One of his shirts. The domesticity of it all warms his heart for a short moment - a moment before he remembers he’s a dying outlaw on the run and you are not his wife doing laundry at your homestead. Your soft laugh, your sly smile; the way you sigh his name when he’s buried between your thighs. How could he ever be deserving of your love, of all things, with this much evil he’s done?

You’re a petty thief. A saint compared to him.

You’re simply the object of his transgressions.

He’s lusted after you, your nude frame in the moonlight in Flat Iron Lake. He saw you and lusted for you and took you, that night under the bright moonlight as you sighed his name.

He’s gluttonous with your body - the sweet tang of your slick, feasting upon you in some old boathouse, head between your thighs taking of you far more than his fill.

He’s a greedy, greedy man - collecting your moans and sighs like a rich man collects gold coin - to drown himself in the pile he’s ripped from you.

He’s envious of any man who touches you - to brush against your soft skin that should be blessed only for him.

He’s killed, he’s murdered and maimed, for you - a wrathful punishment against men who dared disrespect or hurt you.

He’s guilty of slothful want - ignoring and shirking responsibilities and jobs and getting money to lock himself in a room with you and spend the hours worshiping your body.

He’s prideful in his possession, wanting all to know that you belonged to him - that you chose him, the miserable bastard that he is, above all others.

Just when he thought he was given his deliverance, laid on his knees next to you after Guarma - the karmic forces of the universe threaten to take him away from you again.

Your song falls into humming as you move to lift the wet work shirt of his - the blue one he always manages to stain, wringing out the water from it before laying it out on a large, flat stone to dry.

God almighty, does he love you. 

Maybe he will be spared this tiny bit of retribution for his incalculable sins and be damned to never touch you again. Never feeling your kiss or your warmth or the sweet clutch of your cunt on his cock again. That certainly is punishment for both of you.

Christ, he just wants to lay you down in the mossy grass and take you apart, loving each and every inch of you until he physically can’t. 

But he won’t.  If by some divine providence, he hasn’t cursed you, he swears he will never touch you again. He’ll put you atop his horse and take you to Annesburg and put you on a train with every penny he has socked away. To go on living, away from the gang that seems to be splintering by the day, away from him, slowly dying under the weight of his failing lungs-

“Oh, Arthur, there you are.” You turn and catch sight of him, a smile gracing your face as you slide across the rock to sit on the edge closer to him.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in days,” you sigh, but cannot keep the smile from your face as he steps closer, a cold sweat breaking out over the back of his neck.

“Sweetheart, I-“

Arthur is cut off when you cover your mouth to cough, a wet, eerily familiar sound that sends his heart sinking to his feet.

“Sorry - think I’ve got a cold. Haven’t been feelin’ well since we got here, these damn hills….”

He’s been so busy since coming back from Guarma, moving the gang up to Beaver Hollow. The Pinkertons and the Indians and Annesburg and… he’s barely been around. He hadn’t heard a cough. His mind works a million miles an hour as he’s back in the chair in the doctor’s office in Saint Denis. 

“There’s a good chance you’ve given it to her, son.”

“What were you going to tell me, cowboy?”

You wipe your mouth with your sleeve and he sees the faintest red staining your teeth.

This is his comeuppance. This is everything he’s ever deserved. Every terrible decision in his life, every person he’s ever hurt - it has all come to this. Damnation and hellfire and all of the pain he’s ever dealt out to others - it comes back in a crushing feeling in his chest far worse than the sickness slowly killing him.

He should have known. He should have known.

People around him get hurt. 

They die, because of him.

Because he’s a bad person.

“Arthur? What is it-”

He moves to you in quick steps and falls to his knees, taking your hand and pressing it to his lips before moving against his cheek.

“I’ve damned us both.”

Your eyebrows quirk up in alarm, “What are you talk-”

“I- I’m dyin’. I got TB.”

“What? How - ?” You mumble incredulously, eyes like saucer plates.

“One o’ Strauss’s debts - beat him, he was already dyin’ and I beat him goddamn bloody….”

Your eyes start to lose their focus as you look down at your hand, small, pinkish splotches of blood faintly stain your fingers. You look back to him as color drains from your face.

A dawning of realization sweeps through your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. I - I…” he stumbles as his heart breaks. 

Words fail him.

He’s sorry, he’s sorry he’s sentenced you to death, a terrible fate of drowning within your own body. That you’ve been caught up in the punishment he was fated to receive in the life he’s lived. 

His bloodshot eyes water over as he can’t look at you anymore. He presses your hand to his lips again.

You pull it away violently. You may as well have shot him, the searing, visceral pain he feels piercing his heart - he would rather be shot than feel this.

“I…I need… I need to...” You whisper, standing up from your seat on the rock. You stumble a step away before catching yourself, eyes distant.

You may as well have stabbed him in the chest and ripped out his beating heart. He reaches out to you on his knees and you bat his hands away.

“I need to be alone right now,” Your voice has gone low and you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Sweetheart-“

“ Leave me alone.” You snarl back at him.

You turn away from him, quickly walking further down the riverbank, stumbling across the smooth river stones. He jumps to his feet, quickly following you, catching up to you after several steps.

“Darlin' - let me- let me take you to the…”

You stop in your tracks, not turning around. Arthur tries to grab your hand, and you nearly hiss at him, drawing away. You finally turn your head partway toward him, and a burning, smoldering, naked hatred reflects back at him.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Your frame shudders as you try to hold in a cough.

Arthur stops - painfully close to you. Close enough to reach out and draw your small frame to his, but his arms don’t work. 

Your eyes narrow before you turn and walk away, your body language obvious that you do not want him to follow.

He’s watched before as someone he’s loved walked away from him. The stabbing, crushing feeling as real as any bullet or knife, or blow. The slow bleed of being left alone. The exsanguination of his beating heart - where love is given, but not received in return. 

-

Arthur lies in his cot. It feels so empty. It truly is only made for one person, especially one of his size, but he’s gotten so used to you being in it that he can’t bear to sleep without your warmth next to him.

Roanoke is cold. Damp. He’s stripped to his dark blue union suit, underneath a heavy blanket on his cot, staring at the flicker of the oil lantern as darkness settles in.

Arthur stumbled back into camp as the dusk was falling in, he somehow managed to avoid needing to interact with people and was able to pull the canvas shut on his tent as the hours wore on.

He’s listening for you, your soft voice or shy footsteps. Staring at the pocketwatch he left on the bedside table again, vowing to wait just a bit longer before storming out of his tent and going straight for his horse to scour the countryside for you. The nagging feeling in his chest was compounded by the damn Murfrees around.

Fortunately, for his sanity, he is not forced to make that decision.

The tent’s flaps are drawn back and a form slides between them. The burning lantern throws light on you, as you step closer, wringing your hands and staring at the ground. Your bare feet peek out from under your skirts.

“Sweetheart?”

You quietly pad toward the cot, and sit yourself down on the edge, swallowing and finally meeting his gaze as he sits up, shedding the blanket and placing his legs over the edge of the cot. Your eyes are red and bloodshot, and he knows that he’s the cause of it.

“If we’re dyin’, then I don’t want to spend any more time bein’ cross with you. I want to be with you as much as I can.” You say softly, almost a whisper.

“I’m so sorr-”

“Don’t. We’re here now. Ain’t nothing gonna change that.”

You settle in to sit next to him, and he puts his arm around you as he kisses your shoulder. For a moment you stare at the pitch of the tent before turning your head toward him.

His hand gently cups your cheek as he leans to kiss your forehead. “You’re… you’re the best thin’ that’s happened to me.”

You’re silent, and each moment that goes by drives the stake deeper into his heart as your eyes search his face.

“Darl-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. By throwing your arms around him and pushing your body against him. By crawling into his lap and weaving your fingers through his hair.  He pants gently, eyes wide as you pull back only inches. He thought he’d never taste your lips again. 

“Make love to me, Arthur.”  

“Are y’sure?”

Your eyes flit downward to his lips before coming back up to his eyes. Your hand moves to cup his cheek as you lean into him again, pressing your forehead against his. You nod, slowly, to answer his question. 

You press your lips to his and he drinks of you as if he were a parched man. His arms wind around you, pulling you against him, plastered against each other.

“Oh, darlin’…” He sighs between kisses, having maneuvered you to straddle his lap, his hands settle on your hips as you begin to slowly roll your hips against his.

Your knees settle on either side of his hips as he sits on the cot, and through the layers of cotton of your skirts and his union suit, he swells. A groan escapes his throat as his blood settles hotly in his lap.

With one slow undulation, you cant your hips so that his burgeoning cock settles against your folds, parting them through fabric. Arthur’s eyes flutter open as you sit up straight in his lap, and your fingers slowly move to the collar of his dark blue union suit, undoing the first two buttons with practiced ease, as if you had been undressing him all of your life instead of only a couple of months.

More and more of his chest becomes visible to you as you work your way down, the bones of his ribcage much more prominent under the layer of muscle than they ever had been before.

He wheezes. Your fingers stop haltingly, the third button of his union suit halfway undone, falling back against his sternum. His bloodshot eyes catch yours once he has recovered his breath, pained, vulnerable. 

“We don’t have to do this.” He mumbles, gaze locked on yours, the blue-green of his irises betraying that while the low tones of his voice say one thing, his tortured soul pleads for another.

“I’m not leaving.” You whisper back at him, your fingers slowly moving back to the buttons of his suit. Your gaze flutters down to his chest again as you continue your work of disrobing him.

You’re completely caught by surprise when he lifts you from his lap and easily maneuvers your body to lay on the cot before he climbs atop you, pressing his hips into yours again before chasing your lips as he settles his elbows on either side of your head.

Even ill, even dying, Arthur has more than enough strength to move you however he pleases.

His lips trail from yours down your neck, nuzzling his beard against your skin, leaving warm, wet splotches as he works his way down. He pulls back, balancing on his knees, shrugging out of the arms of his union suit, letting the fabric hang at his waist. You pull your shirt from your skirts and up and over your head, letting it fall to the wayside over the side of the cot.

He leans down and catches your lips briefly before sitting back up again, unbuttoning his union suit completely and pushing it down to his knees. His swollen cock bobs before he places his hand upon it and strokes a few times.

You shimmy your bloomers down from underneath your skirts, kicking them away as you draw your skirts to lay limply around your waist, baring your lower half to him as he hovers above you. 

Arthur’s hand moves slowly from his cock toward you. He slides the sleeves of your chemise down, and the cotton falls from your skin as his fingers tug at it. He traces the pad of his thumb over your nipple, and you shiver as the skin pebbles as he passes it over. Arthur’s large hand then moves to cup your breast, squeezing lightly. His other hand weaves into your hair as he kisses you breathlessly. 

The hot line of him settles against your soft belly as he settles between your hips, your legs falling open for him as the cotton layers of your skirts fall away.

Arthur wants to spend every waking second he has left in his miserable life in the gentle warmth of your embrace, skin to skin, about to bury his cock in your hips.

And when both he and you are bare and tangled in each other in his dark tent, with nothing but the heavy beating of your hearts and panting of your breath in the tent, Arthur gently, slowly slides his cock into your folds. A soft groan escapes his mouth as your hips touch, and you wrap your legs over his hips, crossing your ankles over his back as you whine back, the stretch of when he enters you sweet and overwhelming.

He takes his time, waiting for you to grow used to his intrusion into your body. When he does start to move his hips, it’s slow, gentle, as if he were savoring each and every second of being locked inside you. He slides down your chest, leaving small love bites upon your skin as you squirm underneath him with each thrust of his hips downwards to press you into the cot.

Your fingers spread out over his back, his hands weaving through your unbound hair, and your hips moving together in the dance of lovemaking without rush or the ferocity of your normal coupling. His hips roll and you accept: the sound of wet skin on wet skin periodically interspersed between soft moans, cut off gasps, and the creaking of the cot as your bodies move together.

You come and it’s completely by surprise, a choked-off whine as you clutch at Arthur’s shoulders, trying to smother your noise into his neck. He grunts and continues his pace through your orgasm, whispering soft affirmations into your ear as he fucks you, until the clutch around his flesh is too much to stand.

“I’m gonna… god-” he rasps into your ear, you can feel the muscles in his stomach clench against yours as he careens toward orgasm, “Where d’ya -”

“Inside - always inside, until -” you whisper, and he presses his mouth over yours to stop you from continuing further, from speaking into the world the terrible, unfailing truth.

He hitches his hips into yours, and a stifled moan rumbles from his chest against your mouth, as you can feel his cock twitch within your cunt. Arthur pours himself into you, coating your inner walls with his warm spend. How many more times would he be able to do this before he or you couldn’t?

He gasps, far more winded than he should be.

Arthur pulls out and you feel the slow drip of his cooling spend from your body, knowing it doesn't matter anymore. He quietly settles himself next to you, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

The tears in your eyes spill over, and he knows, it’s not from joy or physical satisfaction. He pulls you into his chest and his throat gets tight as you sob into his skin. Your hands are gathered tightly between the two of you, and he’s afraid you’re going to feel the rattling of his failing lungs under your fingertips.

He’s afraid that he’s going to feel the rattle from your lungs as you’re wrapped in his arms.

You weep into the curve of his neck. You weep for the impending death of dreams, of futures, and for your collective demise.

He cannot stop the tears from spilling from his own eyes. They track down his cheeks, hollowed and gaunt, as he stares at the pitch of the tent where the two of you are slowly dying in each other’s arms.

He weeps for you, that you are a casualty of the damnation he was always destined for. 

[carnationcreation]

Secrets and Fights (Gareth Emerson x Cunningham!reader)

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in! 

Pairing: Gareth Emerson x reader

Prompt/summary: After her sister's death, reader witnesses Jason’s spiral out of control, and tries to protect the people she cares about.

Warnings: fist fight, mentions of blood, mentions of chrissy’s unaliving, S4 spoilers? Lmk if I missed any!

Authors note: Two imagines in one week? Holy shit I’m on a roll y’all!

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

My older sister, Chrissy, told me everything. 

I was only a year younger than her, but she still told me every detail of her life as I told her about mine. We just got each other. We got each other in a way other people would never understand.

I remember when she got her first boyfriend. Her eighth grade year, my seventh grade year, and her first year on varsity cheer. She swore me to secrecy and I covered for her sneaking out in exchange for food money at football games. She got more of an allowance than I did anyway. And even when they broke up before my freshman year, I never tried to tell her she was wrong about him. She loved him, but sometimes love doesn’t make things last.

I knew Jason was trouble, but he made her smile in a way I hadn’t seen in a while. They started dating during my sophomore year, her junior year. To all outsiders they were a match made in heaven. The ‘it’ couple at Hawkins High.

For the first time in my life, I kept two secrets from her.

One, was that I hated Jason.

I saw what he did to the ‘freaks’. Anyone he deemed beneath him would know how much he disliked them, and somehow my sister was oblivious to it all. The first fight I ever witnessed in high school was Jason and his gang jumping a poor kid from the school paper. To this day, I’m not even sure what he did to deserve it, but regardless I helped pick up the stacks of scattered papers without even a thank you from him. He was scared shitless.

I wanted to tell Chrissy, but part of me didn’t want to be the one who broke her heart. I guess it didn’t matter much now. 

Now I tell my secrets to a gravestone on the southside of town.

After her death, all hell seems to have broken loose. 

Jason was angry. After her memorial at the school he had stomped out to the parking lot, only stopping to answer my question of where he was going.

“I’m going to make those freaks pay.”

I knew who he meant. My heart sank. I didn’t believe that Eddie Munson was responsible for her death, I knew Eddie before she went to get something to help her sleep from him. I think it was something in her nightmares that got her. Not a monster, but something bothering her. Something she kept a secret from me. I don’t know if it was another boy… or something else. But I knew in my gut that it wasn’t Eddie.

That didn’t stop Jason.

The second secret I kept from Chrissy? 

I had a crush on a freak. A guy in Eddie’s band.

Gareth had jumped in to help the same day Jason jumped that kid. He helped me stack papers and get the kid to his feet. Gareth was a sweetheart, and becoming friends with him means that I knew Eddie. Hellfire wouldn’t do something like this, even though Jason wants to say they did. I knew if I had told Chrissy about my crush, her relentless teasing towards me would mean getting more attention from Jason put on them. And as much as I loved my sister, I couldn’t do that to them. 

I tried to protect them, but even now they’re not safe from his rampage.

I didn’t know who to go to. But as Jason left the school parking lot I knew I had to warn them. 

Warn Gareth.

He had a two minute head start on me, but I grabbed my bike and took a shortcut to Gareth’s house. 

They needed to find Eddie, before Jason did.

I got there before he did, somehow. I threw my bike down at the edge of the driveway and ran into the garage. All but crashing into Gareth’s arms as he stood up from his drum set, “Woah, (Y/n). You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“You guys-” I gasped, trying to catch my breath, “You need to hide. Jason- oh god, he thinks you guys are responsible for Chrissy’s death.”

Jeff placed a hand on my shoulder trying to calm me, “What?” 

“Jason thinks Eddie killed her, so now he’s coming up here after you-” I was cut short by Jason’s car skidding to a stop at the end of the cul de sac. “Guys please hide.”

Gareth tightened his grip on my arm, pulling me behind him, “We’re not going to hide. We didn’t do anything.”

“Gareth please,” I pleaded, but my warning fell on deaf ears as Gareth approached the garage door.

“You’re a little early fellas, the shows not till next week.”

Andy snorted, “Oh, so that was music you were playing?”

Jason locked eyes with me, making me hide behind Gareth once again, “We’re looking for Eddie Munson. He’s in this band, if that’s what you can even call this.”

“Why do you care?” Gareth said, jaw clenched in anger.

“That’s our business,” Jason said, “Let’s go (Y/n), your mom told me to drive you home.”

Gareth caught my arm as I was about to brush past him, “You have eyes, don’t you? Eddie’s not here.”

“Let her go,” Jason growled.

I sunk back behind Gareth, “She’s not going with you man.”

Jason nodded, and for a split second it looked like he was about to turn and leave. Gareth stumbled back from the force of his punch, Jason grabbed him by the collar, “Where is he?”

Jeff tried to lunge forward, but Andy grabbed his arm to hold him back, “Hey man!”

“Where is he?” Jason yelled into Gareth’s face.

“I don’t know!”

My body finally came out of shock. I threw myself in between the boys, trying desperately to get Gareth out of Jason’s grip. Jason drew his fist back for another blow, but as I finally managed to push Gareth out of the way I felt a sharp pain in my temple. 

I stumbled. The ground seemed to come up to meet me as I heard Gareth shout. 

I heard a crash and saw the drum set fall beside me. Jason now had Gareth pinned to the ground with his shoe pressed into his hand. I heard the crack of his knuckles as Jason continued to press down, “It’s gonna be hard to play drums with a broken hand.”

“Gareth, just tell him!” I shouted. 

Gareth screamed as Jason’s shoe pressed down harder, “Dustin! Dustin Henderson.”

I sighed in relief, Jason pulled his foot back but didn’t take it off.

“Yeah, he- he was calling around looking for Eddie. Maybe he found him?”

I got up, trying my best not to stumble against the pounding in my head and pushing Jason back. He fell back to the ground, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Get out of here Jason, before I call the cops!”

Jason only smirked as his friends ran to the car, “I’ll deal with you later, for protecting these freaks.”

I waited until his car was pulling out before I finally turned back to Gareth. His lip was split and bleeding, and he cradled his right hand.

“I don’t think it’s broken man,” Jeff said, “Just sprained.”

I bent down, trying to examine his hand when Gareth brushed my hair out of the way to look at my face, “It’s already bruising.”

“I’ll be fine, should we get him to a hospital?” I asked Jeff.

“Not if the swelling goes down.” Jeff pulled Gareth to his feet, “Holy shit man, you just punched Jason.”

I looked at him questioningly before Jeff elaborated, “After you went down Gareth went for him man. God I wish I had recorded that.”

Gareth sighed, “Let’s go get some ice for that bruise.”

He led me inside and pulled ice packs from the fridge. He went to hold one against my temple before I took it out of his hand and started icing his now swollen knuckles, “You shouldn’t have punched him. It made things worse.”

“Eh, he needs to know he’s not invincible. And that he should never hit a pretty girl like you.”

I blushed under his gaze, hiding the smile that still peaked out as I examined his hand.

Gareth grabbed another ice pack and rested it against my now aching bruise, “You should really let people take care of you. You’re always protecting other people.”

“I don’t need protection like other people do,” I said.

Gareth sighed, “Well, maybe you don’t need it.”

“But you’re gonna do it anyway?”

Gareth nodded, smiling as he brushed my hair back again. The cold ice against my skin did nothing to hide the warm blush on my cheeks. 

“Do you remember when we first met?”

“Yeah, after Eddie-”

Gareth chuckled, “No, it was before Eddie.” I looked at him questioningly, “It was back in… fifth grade I think? I had just buzzed all my hair off, and when I came into class Andy Pollier kept rubbing my head saying it was a magic eight ball.”

I chuckled lightly.

“Well, after I slapped his hand away he cornered me after school. You saw, and instead of running to get a teacher you walked right up to him and kicked him. Right in the balls.”

“Oh yeah,” I chuckled, adjusting the ice pack on his hand, “I think I do remember that.”

“I ran off of course. Too scared, but also in awe of the fact that a pretty girl just kicked someone in the balls to keep me from getting jumped.”

I smiled, and when I looked back up at him he was smiling too. At me. He was smiling at me.

“Maybe that’s when the crush started,” he said, and with those simple words my heart stopped. “Or maybe it was when you helped that poor kid from the school paper. But I knew it definitely started before you defended me against Jason and got yourself hurt in the process.”

I shrugged.

“That was amazing,” he said, making me meet his eyes again.

“You’re amazing.”

I said it before I could even process the words coming out of my mouth, and part of me wanted to slap myself.

Gareth smiled widely, bringing his injured hand up with mine on top of it to gently kiss my knuckles. 

“I hate to kill the moment,” I sighed, “But how are we going to find Eddie?”

Gareth furrowed his brow, “I don’t know. But we will.”

“Just don’t go get in any other fights. I don’t know how many more hits I can take protecting you,” I smiled.

Gareth chuckled, “Don’t worry darling. I’m ready this time.”

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

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[my-head-is-an-animal]

J Is Just A Letter

Chapter 5 - What Could Have Been

It was several weeks before he heard anything from her. Lady Smallwood had mentioned to him on several occasions that he needed to make more progress, but he reassured her that J would make contact when she had looked over the terms of the deal.

‘You’d better be right.’ Lady Smallwood said, sternly. They stood in the surveillance room watching over an operation taking place in Johannesburg. ‘How long does she usually take to make contact?’

‘Depends.’ Mycroft mused. ‘If she gets her way, no time at all, if not, no time at all, but if she’s considering something… much, much longer.’

‘So, are we to consider this a good thing?’

‘We are.’ He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. ‘The longer she takes, the more she is considering our offer.’

‘And what exactly is it we’ve offered her, Mycroft? You’ve not been very forthcoming about the details.’ Smallwood turned to face him.

‘She’s a woman of taste, a desire for a higher class of lifestyle, if we can satisfy those needs, she may be more inclined to give us what we want.’ Mycroft explained. ‘That is what we have offered her. Satisfaction.’

Before Lady Smallwood could speak, one of the technicians spoke up. ‘Sir, you should see this.’

Mycroft turned his attention back to the screen. The team had made it through the building, found where the hostages were being kept and each of them were holding up a sign with a letter on. It spelt out: “No deal. Try harder. J”

He felt his heart dropping and Lady Smallwood sighed next to him.

‘You heard the woman,’ she said. ‘Try harder. And do it quickly. This is getting out of hand.’

Mycroft just stared at the screen, if she was responsible for this operation being completed then she wasn’t exactly being as destructive as he first thought. She saved the hostages from the gang members, who were tied up in another room. How did she even know about Johannesburg? He decided to send her a text.

MH: Rediscuss terms?

She got back to him almost instantly.

J: Call. Tell me I look pretty.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, she was teasing him, coaxing him into something he wasn’t so keen on getting sucked into.

He told Anthea to clear his next appointment, he’d let her know when he was ready to see anyone. He was a little wary of making this phone call from inside his office, it was soundproof and no cameras were there, other than the ones he planted just in case, but still, one couldn’t be too careful.

Mycroft sat back in his chair and dialled the number he had memorised. Two rings and she picked up.

‘Well?’ She said. He could hear her slight smile, but also the sounds of cars. Possibly she was walking down a street in a city, he couldn’t quite identify whether it was London or not though.

‘You have our thanks for dealing with the situation in Johannesburg.’ Mycroft stated plainly.

‘You’re welcome.’

‘However that operation was top secret. How did you find out about it?’

‘Cheap tricks, Mr Holmes, cheap tricks.’

Mycroft listened to the street growing quieter, a door opened close to her and the echo of a hallway could be heard.

‘Where are you?’ He asked.

‘Out.’

‘Out?’

‘Running errands, we all have them.’

‘Indeed. I suspect your definition of running errands is vastly different to most people.’

‘It is.’ He could hear her smiling. ‘So, are you going to give me what I want?’

‘I thought I had.’

‘Oh, believe me, Mr Holmes, it was very tempting.’ She was ascending some stairs. Concrete stairs, but she wasn’t wearing heels, rubber soles, possibly boots. Why would she be wearing boots? ‘I even thought about calling you.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘This was more fun. And I like to see the shock and surprise on your face when you least expect me.’

Mycroft listened very carefully to what she said and the way she was saying it.

‘I didn’t realise you could see me.’

‘Oh yes,’ she dropped the depth of her voice and it was starting to blur his mind. ‘I’m always watching, always listening.’

‘Then it seems you don’t need all access, if you can hear and see everything, surely your charm is sufficient to grant you access wherever you see fit.’

‘Shall we test that theory?’

Mycroft was silent.

‘I thought you wanted to rediscuss terms.’

‘I do.’ Mycroft took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps we could meet again and you can tell me what you disliked about the last agreement. I’m sure there’s a middle ground we can work from.’

She had stopped walking altogether, he could hear the sounds of typing, muffled voices from her surroundings, wherever she was, he didn’t like it.

‘Tell me I look pretty today.’

‘I haven’t seen you today.’

‘Does that matter?’

‘Yes.’

‘I like it when you say yes to me.’

‘And you dislike when I say no.’

‘Very much.’

Mycroft needed to get back on track. ‘Will you meet with me?’

‘Do you still have my photos?’

He swallowed thickly.

‘Good.’ She said, smiling. ‘Do you still look at them and think of me?’

‘Hard to think of anything else when I’m looking at a photograph of you.’

‘Mmm, I do like a man who can flirt. Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m wearing?’

‘I’d rather ask about what you disliked about my last proposal.’

He heard her take in a deeper breath, before sitting back in whatever chair she was occupying and unfolding a piece of paper.

‘I suppose I can indulge for a moment or two.’

‘Busy, are you?’

‘Very.’

He listened to the sounds of her breath stuttering.

‘If I called you every time I went somewhere, we’d never speak to anyone else.’ She stated, a smile forming once again on her lips. ‘If I were to give you all the information you don’t already have, it would be outdated by the time I was done.’

‘Anything else?’

‘I think it’s enough to be getting on with.’

‘What did you like?’

J paused for a moment. Mycroft could have sworn she held her breath for a moment, as waiting for something. ‘I like that you want to keep an eye on me. I like that you want to watch me… tell me I look pretty today.’

‘Meet with me.’

Another pause.

‘If I’m still alive by the end of the day, I will meet with you.’

‘What do you mean if you’re still alive?’

‘Tell me I look pretty today.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why.’

‘Infinitely complex.’ She breathed and Mycroft had a very bad feeling. ‘Goodbye, Mr Holmes.’

Before Mycroft could say anything else. J hung up.

He stood up and opened his door, ordering Anthea to get J’s location as soon as possible.

‘Sir?’

‘I have a feeling she might be in danger.’ Mycroft said, shutting his door and making every phone call under the sun to find her.

She could literally be anywhere in the world, they couldn’t run facial recognition for some reason, very few people actually knowing what she looked like and narrowing it down to cities was simply not good enough. It was hours of going back and forth and Mycroft felt his heart thumping harder and harder each time someone came up to him to give information that was relatively useless.

There was nothing more Mycroft could do from the office, he went home and settled in his armchair, a glass of scotch poured and the fire blazing in front of him. He stayed up well into the morning hours, waiting for his phone to ring.

J:Still up?

There was no real way to tell if it was her or not, the number was the same, but she rarely made contact this way.

MH: Verification?

His phone began ringing.

‘It’s as if you don’t trust me, Mr Holmes.’ She said, her voice unmistakeable.

‘Well, you can hardly blame me.’ He said, letting a relieved breath go.

‘Are you going to let me in?’

Mycroft froze for a moment. Was she actually outside his house? Or was she bluffing? He stood up and wandered over to his security cameras, bringing up the one directly outside his front door. There she was, staring up at the camera, smiling.

‘Satisfied?’ She lifted her head, accentuating her neck, the neck he wanted to kiss.

Mycroft hung up the phone and watched her for just a second or two. She put her phone back in her clutch and waited. Black and white certainly was a flattering filter on her, no distractions, but more than enough to stimulate his mind.

He went to the door and opened it. She wore a dark red, wrap dress, one that extended down the length of her arms and cradled her curves beautifully. Her soft, dark hair once again over one side and her lips a perfectly neutral colour. She wore just a little make up, but only enough to amplify her features, she wasn’t looking to go over the top, subtlety was her approach tonight. Her heels pushed her back up and therefore created more smooth curves to make his mouth water.

Mycroft stepped to one side, letting her in. He didn’t bother hiding his admiration of her from behind, she clearly had a trying day. She liked it when he looked at her. Mycroft led her into the lounge where he’d been sitting and gestured for her to take the seat opposite him. She did so, slipping off her heels and pulling her knees up.

Her whole body was toned and defined, like she was used to keeping herself in good shape. He poured another scotch and handed it to her, noting the very slight tremor in her hand and the red in her usually clear emerald eyes.

‘What were you doing today?’ Mycroft asked, settling back in his armchair and observing her closely.

‘What do you think I was doing?’ She shot back.

‘Misbehaving.’ Mycroft gave a tired smile, he wasn’t sure how in the mood for games he was, he’d already had three glasses of scotch and the fear he was making that obvious was clouding his better judgement.

She smiled and sipped the brown liquid, never taking her eyes off of him.

‘What were you doing today?’

‘Looking for you.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Yes.’

‘I like it when you say yes.’

‘I know.’

Mycroft observed her lips, part of him wanting to kiss her, the other part wanting to know why she had a small cut on one side of her mouth. ‘I want to keep saying yes, but you’re making it… difficult.’ He chose the word carefully, not wanting to give her any other reason to become distracted from the current topic. She smiled, gently biting her lip, it made his mouth water a little more.

‘How can I make it easier for you?’

‘Agree to terms.’

‘Set them.’

‘I already have.’

‘Set new ones.’ She was challenging him, he couldn’t deny it, but he also couldn’t get over how much he enjoyed her challenge. He ran his hand over his face and tried to think clearly. ‘I’ll help you.’ Mycroft leaned on his hand, tilting his head to look at her from a new angle. ‘I want something unique, I want something personal, I don’t want a piece of paper that’s been drawn up by some junior clerk in the office, I want you and I to have a personal relationship. I’m sure you can draw up terms that fit with that brief.’

Mycroft observed her for a moment, thinking hard on what his next move would be. ‘Why did you give me those photos?’

‘I wanted you to have a little something to remember me by.’

‘You thought there was a risk I’d forget you?’

‘No.’

She sipped her scotch and Mycroft was hypnotised by the way her throat moved as she swallowed, he wanted to taste the skin on her neck, he wanted to kiss and bite at the flesh. He quickly distracted himself, knowing full well if he continued to dwell he’d only encourage her.

‘I need information,’ he tried a new tactic. ‘I need locations and names. I know that you have a specific skillset and one that is able to acquire such things, so I suppose without giving away every official secret the British Government has, I would like to strike a deal that ensures we both get what we want.’

‘And you think by asking me to check in every time I do something secretive is the way to do it?’

‘It’s just one possible option.’

‘May I suggest another?’

‘Please do.’

She stood up, placing her glass down and stood between his legs, he knew how this was about to go and honestly, what was the point in resisting any longer?

‘I like getting phone calls from you,’ she said, staring down at him, her face half lit by the fire and Mycroft had never seen anything so seductive in his life. ‘I like when you ask me what I’m doing. Maybe we can make that a regular occurrence.’

‘At least once a week.’

‘Fine.’ She smirked, stepping closer. ‘But once you’ve got what you want and are satisfied I’m behaving well enough, I want to pick the topic of conversation.’

Mycroft swallowed nervously, he had a feeling that this was about to go further than he really wanted it to, but he was powerless to resist.

‘I don’t mind sharing information, if you ask, I will tell you the truth.’ She slowly lifted herself to straddle him, hovering over his lap. Mycroft placed his glass down and prayed she had a little mercy on him. ‘But I have other things I’d like to do.’

‘Such as?’

‘That would be telling.’

‘Yes.’ He watched the dark flash in her eyes, she really did enjoy him saying yes.

‘Are you going to take my pulse again, Mr Holmes?’

‘I might.’ Her hands were resting below his arms on the end of the armrests, still hovering above his lap, but he could feel the heat of her body against him and it was beginning to drive him mad. It was everything to keep his composure. ‘What other things would you like to do?’

‘Now you’re asking.’

‘You know what I’m asking.’ He could feel his own breathing slipping away from him, it was no longer steady, it was shallow and he was warm, very warm. He wished he’d loosened his tie before she was on top of him.

‘May I sit, Mr Holmes?’ She whispered, her breath hitting him and making him suck in harshly, completely giving himself away. He composed enough of himself to take the opportunity as he saw it.

‘Only if you tell me which door you really want to open.’

She grinned, he just about caught it, she liked that he was playing the game with her. Maybe this was how he needed to work it for the time being, play the game, take what he could.

‘I’d settle for the one that leads to your bedroom.’

Mycroft chuckled, darkly. ‘Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.’ Her breath stuttered and the shake in her body was unmistakeable. ‘For now, tell me which door you want to open and I’ll let you sit down.’ His head lifted just barely, just enough to feel her incredibly quick shallow breath against his mouth. ‘Tell me.’ He coaxed, gently.

‘There is a secret door that only a select few have access to,’ she was almost panting and Mycroft’s mind was flying to what her properly panting would sound like, preferably with him inside her making it happen. ‘If I told you which one it was, you would know everything there was to know about me… I’m not ready for that yet.’

Mycroft swallowed. He debated with himself, whatever it was she really wanted, what she was saying with her body, he wanted it too.

Mycroft brought his hands slowly up to her hips, never breaking eye contact with her dark green eyes, he wrapped his fingers gently around her, feeling her lips part just slightly against his. He paused, making her wait, before guiding her down to feel exactly what the proximity of her body had done to his. She let out the most beautiful sigh he’d ever heard and he was verging on doing the same. Her eyes fluttered closed, absorbing the feel of him pushing against the fabric of his trousers. Mycroft could have stayed there all night, she was finally in his hands, compliant, willing.

‘Is it just one?’ Mycroft tried to focus. She didn’t move on top of him which was an absolute godsend for his focus, if she had moved or starting grinding, then he was a goner. ‘Just the one door you’d like to open?’ He repeated.

‘Yes.’ She sighed and Mycroft couldn’t help his head falling back and sucking in a sharp breath. He suddenly felt her hips properly and much to his agony, felt no trace of underwear. ‘I never wear anything more than you can see when I visit.’ She said, smiling. He almost let a groan go, but just held on.

‘Is this door one I can access?’ He was desperate to hold on.

‘Let me loosen your tie.’

‘Fine.’ He swallowed, needing the release from somewhere, his tie seemed the less threatening of the two options.

Her fingers came up and slowly traced his jaw, down his neck, making his eyes shut and absorb the touch. Mycroft couldn’t recall the last time he’d been explored in such detail, in fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been touched properly. Far too long. He was slowly becoming addicted to her soft fingertips tracing every inch of his jaw and neck, he didn’t want her to stop, he couldn’t let her stop, ever.

Mycroft became aware very quickly that his breathing had turned into panting the same way hers had and somehow, he didn’t mind. She gently pulled his tie loose and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, taking full advantage of the hair poking out, something that made her sigh. He managed to open his eyes enough to see her biting her lip.

‘You can access the door.’ She said, looking up at him through her long lashes.

Mycroft took a breath to help him steady himself, noting the slight movement of his hips pushing up into her, it didn’t go unnoticed by her and she smiled. ‘Then why don’t you allow me to open it for you?’

‘I told you,’ she said, shaking her head and smiling. ‘You’d know everything there was to know about me if I let you do that.’

‘I thought you wanted me to know you.’ Mycroft frowned, watching the slight panic return.

‘No longer an option.’ She said, cryptically. He couldn’t let that be the answer, she wanted him to know her, that was what she admitted to in his office, he wanted to know her, he’d never made a secret of it. So, why was it no longer an option? ‘Ask me something else.’ Her hands remained on his chest, fingertips gently pressing into him, massaging the muscle beneath.

‘I will phone you once a week,’ Mycroft let his eyes drift to where his hands were still holding her hips, his thumbs idly running over the bone. ‘Check in. You will give me any information I ask for-‘

‘Just the one piece. One per phone call, use it wisely.’

‘Fine,’ Mycroft nodded. ‘And when you can prove the information is worthwhile, I will give you what you ask for.’

‘You’re going to make me earn it.’ Her smile was suddenly back, playful and testing.

‘I am.’ Mycroft looked her dead in the eye and held her gaze, hoping she could see he was serious.

‘Well, thank God for that.’

Mycroft was desperate to have more than this woman simply sitting on top of him, he wanted to touch her and worship her and listen to her make the beautiful sounds her knew she was capable of.

‘What happens once you get what you want?’ Mycroft asked, trying so very hard to get what information he could.

‘In what regard?’

‘I expect these visits won’t be a necessity for you anymore.’ Why did he suddenly feel like he was the one being interrogated?

She leaned closer, her soft lips once again brushing his. ‘This is my pleasure, Mr Holmes. Just pleasure.’ He let a small groan escape, just enough to make her smile.

‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘How’s my pulse?’

Mycroft had had enough of the game. He sat up, wrapping his arm gently around her lower back, pulling her closer into his hips, making her feel him and groan into the feeling. His other hand traced up to her neck, brushing the stray hair out of the way, he suddenly had an idea. He dipped his head to trace his lips up her slender neck, finding the spot where her pulse was pounding hard against his mouth.

‘Racing.’ He breathed, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, vanilla extract, but he could also smell her and that was just warmth in itself.

‘Mycroft.’ She moaned, her fingers diving into his hair, wanting him closer, craving more of his body. The sound was maddening, he wanted to hear it again and again, he wanted her to be unable to say anything else.

‘Do you accept the terms?’

‘Yes.’ She sighed.

‘I like it when you say yes to me.’ He smiled just below her ear. He could feel her smooth thigh in his hand, squeezing it gently, running his thumb just beneath the hem of her dress. ‘I like it when you say my name.’

‘I know.’ She panted a laugh, her heart still thumping against his chest as she pressed into him. He liked the shape of her, the curve of her breasts, collarbone, her neck, everything just fit against him, but he needed more. He needed to feel her skin pressing against his.

‘Would you like me to say yours?’

‘I didn’t think you were paying attention.’ She was mocking him, teasing him and he didn’t appreciate her lack of faith in his skill.

Mycroft traced his lips across her soft, smooth jaw until he was right next to her ear. ‘Don’t tease me, Jade.’ He whispered so quietly he may as well have made no noise at all. But she heard him loud and clear, because she froze. Her breathing halted for a split second and her once compliant body went rigid for just a tiny fraction of time.

Jade placed her hand on the crook of his elbow, indicating for him to loosen his grip. ‘You’re an impressive man, Mycroft. I mean that in every way, but until I open that door, I’m not safe. Do not utter that name to a single other person.’ She moved his arm and gently pushed him back in his armchair.

Mycroft really didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want her to leave, he just wanted to kiss her. He held her forearm gently, just enough to keep her in position a little longer, no real grip.

‘Don’t leave.’ He said.

Jade tilted her head and smiled. ‘This could have been a beautiful night.’

Mycroft didn’t try to stop her, he knew he couldn’t. He just watched her slide off him, put her heels back on and down the rest of her scotch. She turned back to see him observing her.

‘Don’t take your eyes off me, Mr Holmes?’

‘How could I?’

She smiled, almost sweetly, but he could see the frustration in her expression. Jade left Mycroft sitting in his armchair, staring into the fire, his body ignited, but no flames in sight. She was right, it could have been such a beautiful night.

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Mycroft Holmes Masterlist

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

A/N: Ah, Steve. Boy did I have trouble writing you, you bitch (jk I love you). Only two left after this one, I’m gonna be sad to see this series end but also will be glad to move onto other stuff and hopefully write more of my OC fic if I get the inspiration back for it. 

18+ only, my dudes. MINORS DNI because if you do I will find your dad and I will give him some sloppy toppy and marry him and become your stepfather. 

Smug was the only way you could describe Steve’s face when the bottle neck pointed towards him. Before Billy had come along, he’d been the original lady’s man of Hawkins. In high school, all the girls wanted to date him, and all the guys wanted to be him. Most popular guy in school, swim team captain and basketball star, always had a pretty girl on his arm. He was the stereotypical jock you’d expect to see in movies.

However, what set him apart from that cliché was how much he changed after Jonathan beat him up in a fight. He lost his interest in popularity politics and having the prettiest girl on his arm for the sake of his image. Gone were the days of him only associating with the rich kids at the top of the high school food chain. Now he would rather hang out with Robin and Dustin and the rest of the group (even though he was hesitant around Billy). His smiles became more genuine, and he cared less about what others thought of him, meaning he didn’t bother to censor parts of his personality or his interests.

Ever the gentleman, Steve was quick to get up and offer you a hand to help you to your feet. His fingers intertwined with yours as he led you into the guest room and towards the closet, humming along to Girls On Film emanating from the stereo downstairs.

He opened one of the closet doors but turned to you before you could enter. “Remember, we don’t have to do anything in there if you don’t want it and don’t feel comfortable with it.”

You smiled at him. “I appreciate the reminder, Harrington. Now let’s get in. If we stand out here talking too long, then our seven minutes will be up before we even close the door.”

Grinning, Steve helped you into the closet first and then climbed in afterwards. Unfortunately, he closed the door before you’d found somewhere to sit, and you were bathed in darkness with him practically leaning up against you. You jumped when he put a hand on your hip, accidentally elbowing him in surprise.

“Shit, sorry!” you hissed, awkwardly trying to move out of the way and smacking the side of your head on the wood of the closet.

“You okay?” Steve’s voice was laced with concern as he stumbled in the dark. His hand squashed your face as he tried to feel where you were.

“Yep, yeah, I’m good. Just a bit dark in here.”

You rubbed the side of your head where you’d hit it, almost certain you could feel a small bump forming. You huffed in annoyance and folded your arms over your chest, listening to the sound of Steve’s shirt on the back wall of the closet as he sank to sit on the ground.

For a moment, you found yourself caught up in thoughts about Steve. Even though it had been a couple of years since he and Nancy split up, you’d seen the way he would look at her longingly. Sometimes his expression would become sour with jealous and sadness when she and Jonathan kissed or did anything as a couple. You weren’t quite able to relate to how he was feeling because you weren’t in the same position as him, but you saw it clearly killed him inside to see what he could have had flaunted in front of his face whenever the gang got together. He’d been on plenty of dates since Nancy, of course, but none of them seemed to progress towards actual relationships. Then he’d developed a crush on Robin, and she’d turned him down in front of you in the Starcourt toilets, telling both of you that she essentially wasn’t interested in men. After Eddie had encouraged him to get Nancy back and Steve confessed to her how he felt, she’d politely turned him down and stayed with Jonathan, concluding the current saga of his love life. For whatever reason he just seemed to be unlucky in the relationship department.

You sighed softly. “Look, Steve. I just… I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Nancy.”

The silence you received in response had you cringing.

“I know it’s probably the last thing that you wanna talk about. I keep seeing the way you look at her and I know it hurts but there is someone out there for you, I can feel it. So what if she doesn’t want you? She’s the one missing out. You were a bit of an ass in high school but then you changed during senior year after you both split up and I think growing as a person away from her has done you some good, you know?”

You started to wonder if maybe you’d said all of the wrong things and that you should leave the party and head home to avoid making the rest of the party awkward when you felt him take hold of your hand and give it a squeeze. You sat down beside him, the toes of your shoes against the door in front of you.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me that you feel that way. Honestly, I’m just not sure a relationship is in the cards for me.”

You frowned at his words. “Steve –”

“Besides, who needs romance when you’ve got friends? Back in high school I thought I’d graduate and struggle to find real friends away from Tommy and Carol. Most of the kids in our grade just wanted to be friends with me because my family has money and we live in a big fancy house that’s always empty. I never thought I’d end up with friends like you or Robin or even Eddie.”

Your head dropped to the side to rest on his shoulder. “Robin and Eddie are great. They’re so cool and smart and interesting. I don’t think I could picture my life without you guys.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he chastised. “You’re cool and smart and interesting too. I wish I hadn’t been such a douchebag towards you because I should’ve been hanging out with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You lifted your head and just about made out the shape of his head in he dark.

“Yeah,” he replied, breath tickling your skin. “Someone like you.”

There was a moment of quiet where you heard the faint sounds of laughter and conversation coming from Steve’s room. His hand moved to cup your neck, thumb touching your jaw, and you leaned in to seal your lips over his.

The kiss was slow and tender at first, lips moving in sync as you tilted your heads in opposite directions for better access. You were the one to take it further when you flicked your tongue teasingly against his lips. He granted you access with a soft moan, and you placed your hand on his cheek. Your tongues danced and twisted around one another as your lips continued to move at that slow, agonising pace. However, you didn’t mind that things were moving slowly. Steve certainly lived up to his reputation as the best kisser at Hawkins High, his other hand on your shoulder trying to pull you closer. You tore your lips away temporarily to catch your breath and you smiled as he panted against you.

“That was nice,” you told him, making him laugh.

“Oh yeah? Nice enough to do it again?”

You grinned wordlessly and pulled him in for another kiss, this one more forceful and passionate as he lay you down on your back and crawled on top of you the best he could in the cramped space. One of his hands was on you hip while you heard the other gently thud into place next to your head. His lips moved as if he was ravenous and about to starve to death if he didn’t keep kissing you. You hesitantly lifted a leg so that your knee was between his legs. You were about to apologise when it accidentally brushed against his crotch but were met with a quiet, whiny groan. You couldn’t help but smirk against him as you did it again with purpose this time. You relished the way he ground against your leg, humping it a little as your teeth tugged at his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong, Harrington?” you teased. “Getting all worked up over a kiss?”

You huffed out a groan when the hand that was on your hop moved to roughly take hold of your chin. “You know damn well what you’re doing. Two can play at that game.”

Before you could ask him what he was doing, he moved forward slightly and then lay himself on top of you so that he was rolling his hips against yours in a steady rhythm. The back of your head knocked against the wooden floor of the closet and your hips jerked upwards to try and create more delicious friction.

“Steve, that feels so good,” you whimpered. You felt a small sense of triumph when he hardened against you and rocked his hips into yours more forcefully.

“You feel good too. Could do this all night,” he replied, his voice low and tickling your ear. Your cheek brushed against his as you both humped one another in the dark. His movements began to pick up speed, so you made sure to match his pace.

Just as you felt yourself beginning to approach your climax, a knock at the door put a stop to your movements.

“Time’s up or whatever. Now hurry up, I want this game to be over already.” Billy’s irritated tone made you roll your eyes and you waited until his footsteps faded away before gently tapping Steve to get off you.

When you were both out of the closet, you bit your lip and smiled at him. His face was flushed and his hair a little dishevelled, his pants still half-tented. Without saying another word, Steve pulled you close and kissed you again, neither of you caring about the shouts from his bedroom telling you to hurry up.

Tagging: @okay-j-hannah​ 

[roselyn-writing]

A unique trainee chapter 9

“Aliyaa’s mission”

A/N: I completely forgot about this fanfic lol 😂I guess I need to start remembering that I have other fanfics to write! ��️❤️🖤

It is a sunny beautiful day as the breeze gently blows the trees. Younger Aliyaa woke up from her sleep, she got up from her bed. She washes her face and brushed her hair and teeth.

“It is a lovely day today,” she muttered to herself happily.

Today the Grandmaster woke up early like he usually does. He sat on a mat waiting for Aliyaa to come and eat her breakfast with him.

Today is very important for her, today is the day of her first mission!

The Grandmaster had been thinking these days, he had been thinking if he did the right thing; Is sending Aliyaa safe for her? What if she got killed? The older Aliyaa will never forgive and thus he will lose two Aliyaas, But from what he has seen Aliyaa is doing progress in everything. Her training, her ability, and her strength.

He trusts Younger Aliyaa to get the job done and so must the older Aliyaa!

“I know that I’m doing the right thing!” Hanzo stated he is certain in his decision.

Finally, younger Aliyaa came to him, she sat near him. Then she poured tea for herself and her grandmaster.

“Good morning Grandmaster!” Younger Aliyaa greeted joyfully.

“Good morning, Sakura~,” The Grandmaster greeted back with a smile on his face.

As he is sipping his tea, he is looking at Aliyaa, he can’t help but to ponders at her. She is so cute and innocent.

It would hurt him if he made a monster out of her, he knows that the life of a ninja is cruel and merciless. He would be damn if he taught her how to become one. She will lose her virtues and innocence, she will be left with only blood on her hands and the unquenchable blood lust.

She would be a feminine version of himself. He would be doomed if he let her become like him, He can’t lose sweet young Aliyaa; She is the light of his life.

“Aliyaa,” The Grandmaster called her. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes!” She affirmed brightly to him.

“I will not send you alone, there will be a squad going with you,” The Grandmaster stated.

“But-“

“My decision is final!” The Grandmaster declared.

“Yes... Grandmaster” She murmured.

He thought about this matter through and through. The decision is hard for him more than it is for her, but it is for her safety.

“Be ready for your mission” He reminded, “And, please be safe,”.

“Yes, Grandmaster!” She reassured.

Younger Aliyaa's mission is to hunt one of the lowly-ranked gang members and his name is Lazlo.

Lazlo is a young man lowly-ranked member of his gang.

Grandmaster Hasashi had Aliyaa hunting him down because he won’t be much of a threat to Aliyaa.

Once Aliyaa finds this Lazlo guy. He wanted to assault her, because of how beautiful she is.

“Hello~ Girl,” Lazlo called lustfully.

“Not interested,” she coldly told.

With a swift move of her feet, she tackled him and started punching him in the face, he cried in pain, he tried desperately to shake her off of him but he failed. He barely got up and took a good footing but he stammered due to unbalance.

Younger Aliyaa decided that she will beat him senselessly so that he end up in the hospital. She doesn’t want to kill him.

“What the hell is wrong with you lady!” He cried as he spits blood.

But Aliyaa didn’t reply at all instead she kicked him in the face and she punches him in the back of his head, His body lay there he isn’t dead, he is just unconscious.

“I did my mission!” She brightly said to herself.

Then she went to the Shirai Ryu Temple, she told the Grandmaster of her mission and he congratulated her.

“Good work!” The Grandmaster exclaimed.

“Thank you, Grandmaster!” Aliyaa replied.

Older Aliyaa came to congratulate her on her mission. “Congratulations on your mission!” Aliyaa exclaimed happily.

“Thank you!” Younger Aliyaa answered.

Older Aliyaa magically prepared tea and cups for them to drink and celebrate together.

“Let’s celebrate,” Older Aliyaa suggested. “Who wants black tea? Or green tea?”

“Green tea for me,” Grandmaster Hasashi specified.

“Sure,” Aliyaa uttered.

Aliyaa magically poured tea for Hanzo and younger Aliyaa, All of them enjoyed sipping their tea. It is one of the lovely times when they gather together and drink tea.

That’s all for today! Thank you for reading you can give me feedback if you want 🖤

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Week 7 Set A(25/12/23 -31/12/23)

Model Used is Tsonghan Wu

1.

Christmas week so don’t expect tooo much progress in these various area’s gang. I’ve not broken new PRs so there’s been a bit of a plateau and even some backsliding. I do have a plan to fix this however and it largely involves re-arranging my Daily schedule to put pushups earlier in the day before i’ve had my big evening training sesh.

2.

I’m opening up my competitive horizons once again to Smite. This feels like an appropriate JBS game because i can play as super muscular gods. So for the time being i’m gonna be sweaty as hell on Smite. Will i be good at this? Well i’ve been playing the game for almost 8 years and have never played in Ranked so your guess is as good as mine.

3.

The first pants down the chute. This is actually a more recent purchase and one that i actually liked. It was a part of my very first YoungLA drop. A pair of tapered track pants with a really nice dark green color and comfy material that actually fit in a decent way and didn’t hang off my  shrinking waist. BUT the lesson to be learned from this article and honestly most of them is about the level of care I show my clothing. When I got these I was washing my own clothes on a regular basis for the first time. And I didn't know about the washing instructions and didn’t care to do the basics. I was washing these in Hot water along with basically every other piece of clothing interchangeably, and then popping them in a super hot, super small tumble dryer for sometimes hours. The long and short of it is that these things are BUSTED and need to go. I’ve long since changed that mode of clothing maintenance and have seen a lot more success in the longevity of my drip because of it.

4.

No real opportunity to indulge in this properly but if you go to my sneakily linked and underappreciated twitter then you’ll get a taste.

5.

In episode 12 of the netflix baki one villainous character, Dorian, asks another vaguely less villainous character, Retsu what Strength is. Retsu responds that strength is “Enforcing my will on circumstances; getting what I want from any situation” And this is an atypical response from a piece of media, but it is actually very close to what the sociological definition of Power is. Most pieces of media will throw some spiel about overcoming obstacles or not compromising or perseverance. But I honestly agree with the Sociological-Retsu definition. There are many ways to be strong and to enforce your will and get what you want. But at the end of the day Strength must be an actively shown and enacted quality. It cannot simply be passive resistance. That is resilience which is also valuable. But resilience without strength is impotent.

6.

No new gymbros to report, but that’s okay. It’s weird tho, I went for Push day on Christmas in the hopes of finding a totally empty gym that I could just vibe and relax in while going heavy. But there were people there and like 2 or 3 different guys would not stop talking to me. Normally this would be fine but come on! On the one day i wanna just vibe and not interact that’s when they all bug me.

[michelleelizabethtanner]

Random GG question for you!! If season 3 hadn’t been cut short, what do you think the ending would have been? I know they basically just continued with the storyline in S4, but I still can’t help but feel cheated of those 5 eps!

Feels like they could have wrapped up hitman, maybe SS, then maybe Rio gets arrested at end of S3? But would they have done the whole Rio get arrested fakeout for a finale when they already did it S1??

UGH just feels like if they were able to wrap up more of those storylines in S3, we could have had more interesting Beth/Rio/nick content across S4. BUT probably wishful thinking lol

Anyways, would love to hear your thoughts!

Anon! Hi! Idk what the standard turnaround is on asks here to be considered peak etiquette. I’m on vacation from work this week so naturally I’ve been ridiculously busy. 😂😂 But I’ve been thinking about this question.

I do think s3 had some whiplash moments. Like this one. Where it didn’t make much sense for why exactly Rio was behaving the way he was. But I do think that the general gist of 4.04 would have been how s3 wrapped. It had the shooting of someone (Fitz), which is how every season appears to have been planned to wrap up. And there seems to be a pretty clear delineation between Rio’s emotions pre and post Fitz execution that I think fit a little better into a natural progression leading to forgiveness.

I’ll be honest, it does hurt my brain sometimes to try and think of why the story did what it did. I don’t hate the hitman plot. I think it’s a really good way to illustrate Beth’s inner conflict. It does ask the viewer to constantly read between the lines, and the moments of emotional honesty (even when she’s being dishonest) are lost in the peripheral nonsense. That’s actually the problem with this show, now that I’m rambling about it. The peripheral nonsense. The general trajectory of how Beth grows into herself, how Rio comes to terms with his weakness, how Brio decide to slowly choose each other… That’s all fine. It could have used a little more blatant telling. A little more consistency. But ultimately… okay. But the peripheral nonsense, the time waste, the hours focused on things no one cared about and that which ultimately didn’t progress the story – all that is what bogged it down and made it feel so unsatisfying. S4, after 4.08, is basically useless filler. Too slow and too uninteresting in how it moved the primary story.

And listen, I also wanna add that it isn’t just the Brio investment that makes me say this. I’m all for quality meaningful character development for everyone. But how exactly does trash boyfriend progress Annie? If anything, he illustrates how stagnant she is in her awful life choices. How does bike gang progress Dean? Again, it just highlights the same ol’ character flaws he had from the start. I did very much enjoy the way Stan became much more honest in his resentment of Beth. I always viewed him as not loving the Bolands, and especially not Beth. So his and Ruby’s arc, to me, was pretty well paced and one of the few interesting peripheral storylines in the show. But overall, so much of the magic of seasons 1 and 2 got lost in the subsequent seasons because the peripheral writing became too rambly and lacking direction. Kinda like this post hahahaha!!

What would you have liked to have seen as a season 3 finale?

[arctrooper69]

Enemies to Lovers: Tech

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 of my "enemies to lovers" Tech fic. Hope you enjoy! @zoeykallus

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 2: Something Unexpected

Warnings: Mentions of panic/anxiety. Sassy Tech. Violence/fighting, vague threats.

_________________________________________

Tech’s pov

Tech climbed down the ladder with ease, taking note of the cable hanging down beside him, coming from a ceiling hatch. 

That’s new he thought, the cable looked sturdy enough. 

No rust on the hooks, no fraying of the cable itself. Carabiner is new too. 

Tech frowned, adjusting his goggles to be sure they were recording. He looked down as his comlink chirped “What’s the situation, Tech?” Hunter’s deep voice echoed loudly through the empty hall. Tech jumped, cringing at the jarring interruption and quickly dialed down the volume. Looking around carefully, he pressed the button on his wrist rerouting the frequency to his helmet as to avoid lending information to any potential enemy or whoever was down here with him.

“There’s someone else here,” he reported back. The comlink chirped again, this time Hunter’s voice responded only to Tech’s own ears, “Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

“Cid did say she thought someone else was after the data.”

“Indeed. My guess would be that Trandoshan gang we saw lurking around.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed, “Need us to come down?”

“Negative. No trouble as of yet.”

“Alright, be careful. Com us if you run into trouble and we’ll be right behind you.”

“Acknowledged.”

Tech unclipped his blaster as a precautionary measure and headed down the hall towards the room that the blueprints they’d been given said that the data would be. There was indeed someone in the room already muttering to themselves, oblivious to the fact that Tech had entered the room. He adjusted his goggles. 

Not Trandoshan. That much he could easily tell. 

Human probably- or humanoid at the very least. Female. Bounty Hunter maybe? Empire more likely. They pay decent credits for a job like this. 

He peeked around the figure to get a look at the console screen. It wouldn’t do to have whoever it was getting away with the data.

 Impressive. He watched her progress with interest. But wrong. Missed a couple steps. 

Whoever it was didn’t look very threatening but he unholstered his weapon anyway and coughed to get her attention hoping she’d be reasonable. If she wasn’t - and the likelihood of that was high - he’d be forced to stun her. The woman froze and slowly turned to face him. He opened his mouth to tell her exactly where she’d made the mistake in her coding but the words died halfway out of his mouth. 

Definitely not Trandoshan. Definitely human and most definitely female.

**********************************************

I froze, clutching the data stick I’d been about to use tightly in my hand. 

There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. This day just keeps getting better and better. 

The strange man seemed to be deep in thought, his gaze moving between me and the console behind me.

 Considering his next move no doubt.

Then he’d shoot me for the info and I’d be dead and no one would ever find my body in this junk heap of a wreckage not that anyone would really care and my cat would be left all alone and - 

Stop.

I took a deep breath, feeling stupid for the way my thoughts always spiraled into the worst possible outcome. 

Think. He’s got a blaster. But so do I. 

He took a step towards me and without allowing myself to overthink my next moves I pulled my blaster and launched myself at him. I wasn’t expecting to be met with a kriffing brick wall. Pain shot up my arm as he grabbed my wrist and twisted it forcing me to drop the blaster and fall to my knees. Tears filled my eyes threatening to spill down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure if they were tears of pain, panic, humiliation or a combination of all three.

 Kriff, stronger than he looks. I winced. A lot stronger. He frowned,

“That was not very smart.” 

No shit. 

I didn’t reply as I tried to yank my arm away. His grip tightened, this time drawing a few tears down my cheeks. He looked down, regarding me with a quizzical look. 

Probably thinking about how ridiculous I look now. Or how he’s gonna kill me. 

I glared at him. He didn’t look angry, just annoyed. “There are 30 bones in the human body comprising of the hand, wrist, and arm. And approximately 265 different ways to break them.“ he deadpanned. 

Oh.

Shit.

Whelp…I’m dead. 

“If you kill me, my friends will come for you and you’ll be hunted for the rest of your kriffing life!” I lied trying to keep up my tough guy attitude but failing as my voice cracked. He raised an eyebrow at that and chuckled dryly. His expression softened as he sighed, relaxing his tight lipped impatient look.

“I’m not going to kill you and I’m not going to hurt you. You can relax.” He released his grip on my wrist and I sank to the ground scooting away from him. We both looked over to the flashing console at the same time. He adjusted his goggles looking over at me, “However, we still seem to have a problem. That console holds some very important information and I cannot let you have it.”

“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I guess we do still have a problem.” We both sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"What is your name?" he asked suddenly. I was silent, still not sure if I could trust him.

Definitely not.

I kept silent. He shifted awkwardly. "I'm Tech. You can call me Tech."

I looked over to him but still didn't say anything. The silence felt nearly suffocating somehow.

"Y/N" I spoke after awhile.

"What?"

"Y/N. My name is Y/N."

"Ah. Very well." The room fell silent again.

I could feel him watching me and suddenly realized I’d been staring at him the same way. I quickly looked away rubbing my sore wrist. His eyes followed my gaze and he frowned,

“Are you okay?” he asked carefully.

“I’m….I’m fine.” I pulled myself to my feet.

He seemed to hesitate, then nodded sharply. “Good.”

[imagineanime2022]

Help The Enemy

Osamu Dazai (Platonic) X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 799

Requested: Anon

Request: Original Request

Warning: Death, Injury, Implied kidnapping

You wouldn’t have been here if anyone else had asked you, Dazai knew what he was doing when he came looking for you, he told you that the Armed Detective Agency needed rescuing and you were the only person that he could turn to, you took a small team with you but when you got there you were able to take down the guards and the reinforcements without involving your subordinates, the first person that you came across was Kunikida, you pulled the bag off of his head and quickly untied his hands “what are you doing here? Why did you save me?” Kunikida asked. “I’m doing a favour for a friend.” You answered. “You don’t have to trust me, just don’t impede my progress.” You turned to continue further into the base but were faced with more gang members, you glanced at Kunikida who seemed as wary of you as you were of him but you promised Dazai that he would get out of here alive so you turned back to the approaching enemies and easily dispatched them, very few of them still breathing by the time you were finished. “Did you have to kill them?” Kunikida asked. “Do you want to live?” You asked. “Yes.” He answered. “Then yes I had to kill them.” You answered as you continued forward checking around the corner for anyone else before you moved forward again, a voice came through her comms. “I’ve sent the locations of the other members to your phone, we made it to the control room, I should be able to find out why they took them as we-” She stopped talking abruptly and you knew that something bad had happened “mess up this time… Sorry boss.” You grit your teeth. “What?” Kunikida asked. “One of my team has been killed.” You answered. “What now?” He asked. “We keep going.” You answered “they found the location of all of your other friends, there’s no way that her sacrifice is going to waste.” “Wait, there has to be someone stronger out there if they were able to beat a member of your team.” He frowned. “Yeah there probably is, which is why we need to move, come on.” You ordered as you pulled out your phone checking for the closest location, your hand moved to your comms link “None of you were meant to get hurt I’m sorry, the rest of you need to head back now, I’ll do the rest.” “I didn’t think that you cared for subordinates that way.” Kunikida said, you turned and glared at him before continuing on. “They are just as much my friends as my subordinates. I try to do my missions alone so that no one else gets hurt” You answered in a soft tone. “I’m sorry that she was killed.” Kunikida said after processing what you had said. “Thanks” You answered shocked that he cared enough to apologise, you gestured for him to follow as you went to find the rest of his team.

When you finally got out of the base the rest of the ADA headed in the direction of the city “I am sorry about you friend.” Kunikida said again and you looked at him this time and nodded. “Thank you.” You said. “You know you shouldn’t flirt with a taken woman, Chuya would be mad.” Dazai’s voice sounded and Kunikida turned in his direction and swung to try and hit him, which he easily dodged. He came to stand next to you. “Are you okay?” “One of my people died.” You answered, Dazai looked at your face, he knew that you had a plan, so instead of giving you false apologies and fake smiles he said one thing. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He ordered. “Sure.” You answered as they both turned to leave.

You waited until they were out of sight before turning back to the base, the enemies were already waiting for you. “You're stupid for coming back on your own.” He sneered as his followers laughed, you took out a throwing knife and threw it into one of their heads. “You're an idiot for thinking I’d come back unprepared.” You made quick work of all of them, your ability useless due to your mental state, but you didn’t let the injuries stop you as you continued to cut people down until you were face to face with their boss. “Any last words?” You didn’t actually let him answer instead you stabbed him in the neck and flicked off the knife. “Nevermind I don’t care.” You walked through the base blood dripping from the knife you held at the ready until you got to the central room lifting the body of your subordinate to take them back to the mafia base for a proper burial.

Request Here!!