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skylarsblue · 2 years

Note

this isn’t really a request or anythin’, just a thought. 141 havin to deal with a southern team member who only gets progressively more accented the more they get mad.

100% projecting here

pretty unaccented, American, whatever —> ✨ anger ✨ —> Memphis called they want their “oo-ol” back (translation: oil).

i have no idea if they’d be annoyed, charmed, or just confused.

✦141 + Los Vaqueros With A Southern!Teammate✦

(My first C.o.D request and it's for pEOPLE LIKE MEEEE, southern traassh! This my shit. Fair warning, I've never played one of these games cause I don't have a console, so if they're ooc, please tell me how I can improve writing them!)

✦Random headcanons, Southern slang, GN!Reader, Race neutral as well but American, implied to be Oklahoma/Texas style southern, aggressive cursing because I have the mouth of a sailor, a bit of Google Translated Spanish(forgive me), Rudy doesn't have a color cause I ran out I'm so sorry precious boy✦

✧Simon Riley✧

He's not real fond of Americans, admittedly. He's got a little voice in the back of his head that automatically associates Americans with betrayal, but he'll keep quiet.

He cringes at your accent at first. He's not fond of Americans, even less so of most American accents. It's a very thick drawl and after being in the team for a while, he'll tease you about it, telling you to "Speak English" like he does with Soap.

He shuts up when you bring up his Manchester accent being illegible sometimes. It's all in good fun though!

After proving you're trustworthy, he'll basically call you his "special American", to show you're an exception. He will never stop poking fun at you though, just as you do to him. Particularly when you say something intensely American.

"Look at her ass, out here pitchin' a bitch fit with a tail on it." "...What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

He'll give you one thing, you treat beef well, which he appreciates. Given he used to be a butcher's apprentice. Americans from the southern states know how to make a hamburger and we know how to cook a steak, that's like...the one thing we can brag about.

If you're like me and you dunk on your own country, he thinks those moments are really funny. Especially when you sound so American.

He probably enjoys you being angry the most. He loves it so much, he thinks it's extremely entertaining. Especially if you're a more small, non-intimidating person on the surface.

"Fuck off! Out here makin' a damn mess of the place, runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off, wrecking my shit! I outta whoop yer ass!" "Should we step in?" "No no, let it go on a little longer..."

Probably tries to make your call sign something heavily American stereotypical, in a funny way. (ie. Bald Eagle, Stars(JILL!), Shotgun, etc.)

A bit hypocritical but if you have a farm with cows on it, he doesn't really wanna see them. His first thought his how to butcher them from years of training, and if they're not butcher cows, he feels kinda bad for thinking it.

Congrats! You're the only American Simon likes, aside from maybe Alex but I don't know for sure.

✧Johnny MacTavish✧

Laughs when you first speak. He apologizes but like, he laughs at you, I'm sorry.

Definitely asks if you have a cowboy hat, and he will lose his fucking mind if you do. The more cowboy shit you own the more he's entertained, especially if you wear them around base/on field.

He understands you super well but no one understands how or why. Johnny explains that it's just because he's good with accents. He'll hear weird euphemisms and, though it may take a second, 9 times out of 10 he'll get it.

"Fucker's so cheap I bet he pinches quarters til they scream." "What?! What does that mean!?" "Means he's a penny pincher! He's cheap. C'mon, that one was obvious, keep up, yeah?"

If you're a woman/female leaning, he'll call you cowgirl. If you're male/male leaning, you get the nickname cowboy. Non-binary/Genderfluid/Etc.? He calls you partner, and he'll always say it with a shitty imitation of your accent.

Asks you a buncha questions about American-Southern stereotypes to see if they're true. If they are, he gets really giggly about it.

If they ever have a mission in America, he'll insist you lead them everywhere. He likes seeing how you interact with people, especially if you're in a big city where some nutsos are. This man would have a blast watching you in a Waffle House. It's the only time he likes seeing you yell in public, thinks it's hilarious.

If you have any farm experience he's gotta see it. He needs to. I don't care if the farm is your great grandpa's and you haven't been there in a decade, you better take him to see the cows and tractors right now, immediately. Especially if there are chickens. He loves chickens.

He makes fun of your accent but he thinks it's really hot sometimes and he's very annoyed at himself for it. Particularly when you speak softly, trying to console/comfort him, slipping in a typical southern pet name.

"You alright there, sugar? Took quite a hit there. You need anythin', sweetheart?" "...I uh, uhm, ahem. N-no, no I'm alright." "Are ya sure, sweetpea? Your face is goin' redder than a tomato."" NO, I'M GOOD."

Manages to get the entire team to call you a southern callsign, whether you like it or not. He'll force it to stick. Most are animal-based too. (Cowboy/Cowgirl, Chick/Rooster, Bull/Heffer, Big Tex, etc.)

Your accent grows on him significantly. While he thinks you're very sexy when you're angry, he's really affected when you're soft and sweet. (bonus note; if you're faux sweet when you're mad? The whole "Oh...bless your heart" type thing? He's prolly gonna pop a boner, not gonna lie.)

✧John Price✧

He's not American but there are a lot of American things he likes, admittedly. Specifically, old western stuff, horses, ranches, etc. That whole aesthetic is something he's always enjoyed. He won't say it, but he has a particular fondness for your accent when he first hears it.

Doesn't understand you when your accent gets super thick but he thinks it's entertaining nevertheless. Unlike Ghost or Soap, he doesn't comment on it, because he doesn't think he has room to talk. Maybe he'd do it once and then you'd throw it back at him and he'd realize that...yeah he has no room to talk.

He's a calm individual but he will yell when necessary. But, what he finds admirable is when you jump in and yell for him. Like you can read his mind and he can save his throat, watching the people who were pissing him off jump back at thick southern curses being yelled at them.

"I outta jerk a damn knot in your fuckin' tail, ya fuckin' dumbass! Didn't ya momma ever teach you respect?! You ain't ever gonna talk to my damn captain like that again or I'll skin yer fuckin' hide!" "Ahem, thank you, sergeant, that's enough."

Buys you a cowboy hat if you don't already have one, for sure. Whether you take it as a genuine gift or you take it as a light jab at your roots, he'll get a lil' dopey smile if you decide to wear it. Gaz definitely makes fun of you two. Soap points out that Gaz also wears a hat religiously and he & Ghost start callin' you the hat trio.

Man melts at southern-drawl-spoken pet names. He truly does. Much like Soap, there's something about it that makes the tension leaves his body, though he's not really sure why.

"You alright there, Cap? You're lookin' bout ready to drop..." "I'm alright soldier, just need to finish this." "Captain, it'll be there in the mornin'. How bout a nap instead, huh? You can't go workin' yourself to the bone, hun. It ain't healthy."" ...oh alright, just for a bit though." "Sure, sugarcube, just long enough to have some tea."

He'll probably pick up on a few pet names and call you them. Whether you wanna take it as platonic or not, it's really just a sweet gesture that he wants to return. Pet names are kinda just...a staple of southern slang. It's part of the accent that he really enjoys, therefore he wants to return it.

If he ends up helping you with a call sign, it's going to be a really sweet & nice one. Or perhaps something that's from an old western he's seen. Probably based on something you've said before. (Sugarcube, Lasso, Hun/Hunny.) Bonus points if you get a super sweet name that doesn't match your stature, he thinks it's funny if it throws people off.

Piggybacking off the last one, I think it'd be real funny if your call name was "Sugarcube" and you're like...a 6'0"+ buff dude with a deep voice. That shit would be funny. Anyway!

If you own/live on a ranch or farm in your off time, he'll feel honored if you invite him to see it. Don't worry, he won't laze around and just appreciate the cute animals. (Looking at you Soap) He's got a little bit of experience with cows & horses, so he'll do his best to help you move the hay and such. Don't let him drive a tractor though, it's one of the few things he just can't do.

John doesn't play favorites, he's fair and precise to his entire team. But...off the field? ...you might get a little favoritism, he's got a weakness for bein' sweettalked through southern drawl. Don't let that go to your head though!

✧Kyle Garrick✧

Kyle doesn't care too much, he thinks every country has shitty stuff and cool stuff. He's a pretty big believer in silver linings. While America is far from his favorite country, and he knows the common trope of uh...less than tolerant people from the south, that doesn't affect how he sees you at all.

He does snicker at your accent sometimes, but only when you say something really aggressively southern. Especially making up random southern phrases that he doesn't understand at all. He finds it endearing.

"We just gotta haul ass and go tear shit up, run through like a buncha Tasmanian devils, right?" "...I understood...some of those words. Uh, sure, right." "We need to move our asses and fuck shit up." "Ah, okay. Could've just said that, but alright."

Thinks you're kinda scary when you're mad. He'll be the type to try and calm you down, but he understands if it's someone who deserves it. Not that he doesn't find your drawl fun to listen too, especially if someone was being an ass, but he doesn't like seeing you upset.

If the person you're yelling at was being a real big ass, he'll let you yell for a little, but step in. However, if you're doing condescending rage? Oh, go for it, do it all you want. He thinks it's hilarious.

Finds it particularly sweet if you're angry on the teams/his behalf. He can fight his own battles but he thinks it's a big sign of trust, friendship, etc. that you feel the need to defend him.

"Bless your heart, your brain ain't firing off on all cylinders is it, hun? Tsk, that's a shame..." "Excuse me?!" "You're excused, sweetpea. You're not gonna talk to my team that way, but you can turn your happy ass around and walk away. I ain't gonna have you disrespectin' the people who've been fightin' the good fight. Have a lovely day!" "How can you sound so sweet and yet so angry at the same time?" "Southern livin', sugar. Southern livin'."

Gaz is a bit of a foodie type, he likes trying cooking from any area he can go to. Southern cooking would...it'd be a new weakness for sure. A lot of it is unhealthy, yes, but he doesn't give a shit. It tastes good. Sometimes he thinks American food is an absolute sin and a disgrace, and he'll state it as such. Usually, it's stuff you agree on. Like bacon-covered donuts or fried butter. That shit's egregious. But things like southern-style chicken or rib-eye on a grill? You're gonna make him swoon with them roasted vegetables. Cooking for him is a surefire way to make you an unapologetic favorite in his book.

He won't say anything at the little jokes that people jab at you for your accent, but he will tell someone off if they say something that's clearly not funny and upsets you. Like trying to imply you're stupid because you come from Texas. (Speaking from personal experience) He thinks it's such a dumb thing to give someone shit over and he won't hesitate to say they're an idiot for trying to use it against you.

Hates sweet tea, I'm sorry. It's just tea but he can't stand it. He'll drink the unsweetened tea you make, but he'll make a dramatic face if he mixes them up. Something that you always laugh at.

He's great at driving basically any vehicle. Helicopters to mini coopers. He's never controlled a tractor before, but if you sit him in one and tell him the levers, it'll take him like...three minutes to get it down perfectly. Definitely gets a smug ass grin if you show you're amazed.

If he helps get you your call sign, he won't necessarily make it based on where you're from, it'll probably be based on a nickname, skill, or crucial event in your career. (Crash; you were thrown through a window, Hotshot; skill for sniping, etc.) But if he were to have one based on your southern ways? Sweet Tea, both for the fact you make it and the pet name you sometimes call him. (sweet pea)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Like Ghost, he's not super fond of Americans. His experience with most Americans are annoying tourists and Graves, leaves a pretty bad impression. He comes across unintentionally snappy when he first meets you, but Rudy will point it out, and he'll correct himself.

You aren't the annoying people he's dealt with and he knows it's not fair to say you are. Definitely talks shit on America though, and he'll honestly give you respect if you do the same. Since he's used to the kind of Americans that think being American give them a right to treat others like shit. He hates entitlement.

If you speak Spanish, he's gonna try really hard to not laugh at how your accent affects some words, but it's really hard. He means it in kind and if you're still learning when you meet him, he's proud when he hears you doing well in comprehension and sentences. Still, sounds just a lil silly.

He loves when your accent gets thick from rage, but he his favorite thing is if you speak Spanish in a rage, with your accent on top of it. It's a combination that fills his brain with serotonin.

"Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" "Wha- Haha! What does that mean?!" "Did they say some super weird analogy?" "Si! They did!" "Yeaaah, they do that a lot."

He's notorious for having a naturally flirty personality, it's just how he's always been. Hence why not much phases him, but he does get a quite wide & genuine grin if you flirt back, making your accent extra intense. Especially with the pet names, another man who likes sweet words.

Thinks you having a southern call sign is really cute, especially if it's something your team calls you exclusively. He thinks it shows your endearment to your team. However, if your call sign is something you insist is only for friends, he'll get super giddy about being allowed to call you it.

If he were to pick? (Belle; Like southern belle whether you're fem! or not, Rodeo, and he might call you Americano- but like, in the coffee way. Like it's a sweet nickname, not just him saying your nationality)

Southern hospitality is something he is not used to. Again, bad experience with Americans. So if you explain all the various manners and nice gestures that are considered expected in your home state? He's completely confused, wondering why the Americans he's met don't keep that attitude up when they leave home.

Again, really likes it if you use southern pet names. Especially if you're trying to console him after a really tough day/mission. For some reason it really helps, like a cup of warm coffee on a cold morning.

"Aye, don't stress yourself over it, darlin'. Bad things happen that we can't control, you did everything you could and you were great at it. Don't let it eat at'cha, honey-bun." "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" "Anytime, big guy. Now, you wanna see me try and fail again to open a de la Rosa without breaking it?" "Aha! How about I show you a trick to do it instead?"

Again, like Ghost, you're his special American. Gaz calls you his emotional-support American once and he thinks it's really funny, he'll call you as such every now and then.

✧Rodolfo Parra✧

Sweet darling man. He has nothing against you being American, nothing. But...he cannot understand anything you're saying. He's doing his best but he really doesn't know. He can feel his brain frying every time you bring up something super southern, trying to understand.

He'll have to lean over to your team to ask for a translation, anyone but Soap & Price will tack on an "I think, I'm not sure" at the end of their explanation. If he hears you use a phrase more than once, he'll add it to a little list of notes with the translation underneath it. Treats it like a whole different language. It's adorable.

Like Alejandro, he thinks it's funny if you speak Spanish with your accent. He'll keep a straight face because he knows you can't help it, but man is it fun to hear.

He's not very fond of a lot of yelling if he can avoid it, Rudy prefers disputes to be handled with calm words if possible. But he understands that sometimes it's necessary. Still, he'd want to try and calm you down if you're yelling. But, if you're just acting sickeningly-sweet, kind words that are clearly dripping with venom? He'll just watch. He thinks that shows you handle yourself very well and it's pretty attractive to him, not gonna lie.

"Awww I'm so sorry you're upset, poor thing. God bless you, sir, you have a lovely day. I hope that stick up your ass doesn't hurt too bad." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" "Shh, sugar, it's fine. He wants to be rude, I can be rude back. An eye for an eye. Don't worry your pretty lil' head bout it, sweetheart." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas."

He's really hesitant about American food. It smells great sometimes but all he hears about American food is that it's greasy, or too salty, etc. Still, he won't deny any meal you make. He thinks it's rude to deny food unless it's something you're allergic to.

He ends up liking a few things, but he is biased to his home cooking. But if you start making his favorite foods, or somehow combine the styles in an honoring way? Oh, those are his favorites. He's particularly fond of American sweets though!

Please bake for this man, bake for him, I beg. Apple pie is an American staple for a reason and he'll jokingly claim he'll move to America if it means he can have apple pie every day.

"Rudy, that's your fourth piece! Ahaha, if I knew you liked it so much I woulda made ya more." "Ay, please do! ¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" "Alright then, hun, I'll be sure to make you all the apple pie ya want."

Rudy really likes if you wear stuff like a cowboy hat. He's not really sure why, he just thinks it's really cute. If it's a staple of your whole look(like John's hat), seeing you protective over it, he thinks that's really cute. If you're protective of your cowboy hat but let him hold it/put it on his head to hold it, it's gonna fluster him. Even if your guy's relationship is completely platonic.

If you live near the border of Texas & Mexico, it makes visiting you pretty easy, so he'll have no qualms about going back and forth when off duty. He'll be more comfortable in his home but he won't turn down the offer to see your home, especially if it's a ranch. He's got a soft spot for farm animals. (Particularly goats)

If he has any control of how you choose your call sign, he'll likely pick something the same way Gaz does. But, if you have a thing about what certain people call you - like how only Ghost can call Soap "Johnny" - He feels really warm and fuzzy if he gets a special privilege.

(Translations; "Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" - "You're a fucking idiot - as useful as a bull's tits/about as useful as tits on a bull!" "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" - "Thank you, bella/beauty. I needed it." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" - "Soldier! You can't say that..." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas." - "God, sometimes you amaze and terrify me." "¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" - "It was sent from heaven!")

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo x reader

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nectardaddy · 3 months

Text

'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke

chapter three | wash out

masterlist

ignore timestamps

track three . . . keep 'em on they toes

cw: the tiniest hint of sexual humor in one single sentence, I'm so country I managed to use the term "backwater" forgive me

Her eyes flickered to the windshield once again, tracing over the small crack in her mind's eyes before letting a groan pass her lips. Seeing as the rain went from a shower to a down pour in the matter of minutes, she leaned her head back against the head rest in defeat. "Piece of shit tire, fucking weather, dumbass road," grumbling a list aloud to no one of things that managed to piss her off today.

Clothes wet, sticking to skin as every article was water logged, and phone dead, she decided this, surely, was the worst day of her life. So she wanted to ignore the lump in her throat upon hearing the engine of a truck behind her, ignore the sickly feeling bubbling up as she heard the the door creak open and slam shut - wanted to, but simply couldn't. Hearing the gentle knock on her driver side window was enough to pull her completely to the deep end.

She didn't wait for him to open the door, knowing his hand was already on the handle to do it for her, she just opened it with a sigh. Revealing the man, the handsome man with pretty brown eyes, and seeing his brows furrow in confusion. "You're wet," he said in a statement rather than a question.

You couldn't even imagine, is what she wanted to say, biting back the smirk that ate away at her lips. "So are you," is what she opted for, watching as the rain poured down on him. Hat protecting his hair and face, but leaving all else to elements. His sleeves were rolled up to his mid arm, and rain water glided down pale skin as it hit him. This is why they write songs about the rain, fucking hell. "Good thing we're not made of sugar," spoken with a shrug before turning to get out.

"Do you wanna' jacket, ma'am?" Asking sincerely, not minding the rain at all through his question. Always respectful, always considerate, not a single rotten bone in his body - an absolute dream of a man.

"I wanna' get going," she added, a sass that she tried to reel in but was unsuccessful. A twang in her tone heightened by her snippy response. Erring on the side of caution, he simply moved out from the way of the door, if her tone got too backwater, he was a goner. She let out a deep sigh as the rain pelted her again upon getting out, and she heard him close the door behind her. "Shitty ass weather."

"Rain's a good thing," replying with a small smile. "Makes things grow; it's my favorite actually." She saw him pass in front of her after his statement, the corners of his lips still pulled into a smile as he made his way to the passenger side door. His hand already on the handle of the door before she could reach for it herself, she found herself smiling in response.

"Hard to argue when you say it that sincerely," musing as he opened the door for her. "But I'd prefer weather that doesn't leave me soaked t' the bone." Especially in front of you, saying the latter in her head before getting in the truck, hearing him hum before closing the door behind her. "Should be illegal to look that good in the rain." Mumbling quietly to herself, eyes tracking him pass in front of the truck to the driver's side door.

Shamelessly, she watched as he got in himself and closed the door, taking off his hat and putting it on the dashboard once he did - his grandmother's words forever stuck in his mind: don't wear a hat inside, anywhere, it's rude. Hair damp from the soaked fabric of the hat, and stringy pieces falling in his face that weren't contained and met with the rain. Maybe rain's good, great even, oh my god. To which she turned her head, hands meeting her face and dragging down in an attempt to stop the thoughts that hammered in her head.

She didn't turn when she heard him sigh, only put her head against the head rest once again. "Ma'am?" Questioning softly, to which she only hummed in response. But his words were cut off by a loud crack of thunder, rumbling through the area with force, followed by the bright flash of lightening. "It's coming down too hard to drive at the moment, 'm sorry."

Rain pelted down harder than before, hitting the truck with an, almost relaxing, drone. But it was a compete, and total wash out; if the man tried to drive, he would be met with bogged roads and little visibility. She let out a loud groan at this, keeping her eyes closed as it passed her lips in annoyance. "Whatever god I managed t'piss off is taking it out on me today and dragging you down with me." Reopening her eyes and gaze shifting towards him, she caught his own. Locking for a fraction of a second before he averted, turning his eyes to the windshield as she still kept her's on him.

You can't be looking at me like that, I'll lose my mind. Looking him over once more, again shamelessly, before sighing at the thought. "You got my dad's number?"

"Yes, ma'am," he spoke with a nod. "You want me to let him know we got stuck in the storm?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "And tell him my phone's dead too, so he'll have t'bitch at me when we're back."

A small chuckle left his lips at her words, "I'll tell him we'll be back as soon as it lightens up." The man was simply too good for this world, pure as snow - which she told him often. Always smiling or laughing off the comment with a gentle I just do what's right following suit. But maybe that was why the woman found herself infatuated with him, smiling to herself like an idiot after every conversation.

He had nothing but generosity and care in his soul, spilling over upon every interaction he had with anyone lucky enough to cross his path. While she, although caring and compassionate in her own regard, was nothing but a firecracker. But he would never be subject to venom laced words, even if he deserved it, some how some way, because he was the only reason to why her heart squeezed - giving her a heart attack with every smile.

So deep in the trenches of her own feelings she didn't dare think of coming back out, because hell, it felt good. I'll make it everyone's problem the day I have the balls to tell you how happy you make me.

I couldn't be bothered to give this man a name, I'm sorry.

taglist under cut

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@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna

#haiykuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! smau #hq x reader #hq smau #kita shinsuke #shinsuke kita #kita shinsuke x reader #shinsuke kita x reader #hq kita #haikyuu kita #series: 88 ford

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m1d-45 · 2 years

Text

new hopes

summary: shinobu and itto find you on the beach hiding from the shogunate, and decide to help

-> warnings: n/a! just general imposter sagau things

-> lowercase intended!

the night is calm.

shinobu walks along a road near the beach, taking itto from the police station again. they’re taking a detour so they can both enjoy the night, and the cool breeze is helping to soothe heated tempers. she’s less mad than normal, since this time he’s not in trouble for causing a ruckus, only for speaking up about the ‘imposter’ situation, but still. he should know better, especially when the authorities aren’t his biggest fans.

he suddenly stops, a hand tapping at her shoulder for her attention. “shinobu, look!”

she does, leaning forward to see you sitting on the beach. you don’t seem to be in the best of shape, and though outlander merchants are often left with nothing, this… feels different.

she’s not sure why, but she’s not going to get involved, that’s-

itto grabs her arm and pulls her with him as he walks over to you, and she sighs.

-not going to happen.

“hey there!”

you jump, violently, and shinobu’s eyes narrow. itto doesn’t seem to notice, continuing down the beach.

“what are you doing out here?”

you stumble to your feet, fear evident in the moonlight, and shinobu stops itto with a harsh tug.

“i- i’m not-“

“we’re not with the shogunate,” she says, putting you out of your misery, and you relax somewhat. “what are you out here for? you’ll get sick.”

“i’m… i was hiding.”

“hiding?“ ittos loud voice makes you flinch again, and he seems to notice, lowering his volume significantly. “what are you hiding for?”

shinobu rolls her eyes. it’s clear, at least to her, what happened to you, and she pulls him behind her. “don’t mind him. why is the shogunate after you?”

you stare, distrustful, and she doesn’t blame you. “i dont know. i don’t know what i did. i barely got to give my name and-“

she politely ignores the way you choke up before even finishing, looking you over. the tears on your clothes are too neat to be simple wear, but you don’t match any wanted posters she’s seen.

“you didn’t do anything?”

“n-no, i just- i barely had a chance to walk into the city before i was stopped by guards.”

itto crossed his arms with a huff. “well, that’s just wrong! at the very least they should tell you what rules you broke, and to try and arrest you so quickly? i’ve barely met you and i know you’re trustworthy!”

“boss, you shouldn’t decide things so rashly-“

“oh, don’t be silly! and even if they end up causing trouble i’m still the one and oni!“

“boss-“

“come on, you really think it’s wise to leave somebody out like this? what kind of oni would i be if i let somebody walk around in winter like that without even trying to help?”

shinobu is not sure when or why the conversation shifted to ‘let’s help you’ instead of ‘who are you’ but… itto was right. you would quickly get sick with such clothes, and the shogunate would swiftly catch you without proper shoes. considering that they didn’t even list out your charges(something she’s fairly certain is illegal, but she might have to check with heizou on that) and that she herself feels like she can trust you..

she takes off her jacket, as small as it is, and puts it over your head. though you tense, she notices that you don’t move away when she gets close. odd.

“that should help hide you from any guards. when we get to the base, i’ll get you a proper mask like mine.”

you smile.

it’s late, so most of the gang is asleep, a fact shinobu is very grateful for. considering how much itto frightened you.. she doesn’t want to subject you to the raucous chatter of the whole gang just yet.

she brings you to the bathroom, showing you which bottles are which before promising to return with clothes.

hopefully genta won’t miss a set.

when you come out, collar askew and holding the extra layers in the hat, she wants to smile and punch a shogunate official at the same time. how could you be a threat? how could they need to arrest you when you apologize as she straightens out the ribbons? how could they take such drastic action against somebody who could barely figure out inazuman clothing?

she sits you down and gives you a plate of her specialty, omurice waltz. sure, it’s late, but she doubts you’ve eaten anything of substance in a while.

the speed with which it’s gone, almost like you’re afraid she’ll rip it away before you’re done, confirms it.

she’s definitely keeping you from the shogunate. anybody with eyes could see you’re not a threat, but it appears the police force has gone blind.

you weren’t sure how your life had taken so many wild turns after another. first you were almost arrested by the tenryou commission, and then you were resting by the beach, and now…

you sat in the corner of the gang’s dining room, some bowl of meat and rice in hand. though you’d been ushered in by itto—whose booming voice made you jump so high you’re surprised you didn’t hit the ceiling—and sat swiftly, he hadn’t spoken to you since. it was shinobu that had passed you your food, and the spoon you held since your grip wasn’t strong enough for chopsticks. she was not, however, the one to defend you when the gang started asking questions.

somebody sitting close to your corner turns, throwing an arm over his chair to point at you. “who is that by the way, boss?”

shinobu’s mouth opens, some diplomatic remark already on the tip of her tongue, most likely, but itto beats her to it.

“thats a refugee we found on the beach!” you’re a what-? “they were gonna get sick with the weather, and were hiding from the shogunate, so we took them in. shinobu told me that even her doushin friend didn’t know why they were being arrested, and he even helped divert the police!”

‘doushin friend’?

wait.

besides him, shinobu nods. “the most we could gather is that they were charged on no evidence, which is against the law. detective shikanoin is certain that they haven’t committed any crimes, and so they will be staying with us until it gets settled.”

‘detective shikanoin’…?

did shinobu know heizou?

you could feel your chances of survival rise with every second that went by.

“oh, alright then. what’s their name?”

“well you see, we kinda didn’t really have time for introductions since we were worried about the shogunate more than anything, so-“

shinobu sighs, and you’re suddenly frozen by her eyes on yours. “what’s your name?”

you remember your run-in with the guards, about how you barely got your first name out before they drew their spears-

you lie, give a fake name, and shinobu nods.

“hm… you mentioned them getting aggressive immediately after you introduced yourself, right?”

did you? you don’t really remember.

you nod anyway.

“i don’t remember seeing any cases with that name recently, but i’ll pass it on to detective shikanoin anyway. we’ll see what we can find.

a downside to having such a brilliant detective on your case was that he could expose you to everybody within an instant, and could probably predict your next move with pinpoint accuracy… but the possibility wasn’t as awful as having the shogunate itself after you. even if he ended up finding whatever file the tenryou commission had on you, being arrested at the hands of somebody you knew was a much better fate, in your opinion.

hed be a fatal enemy, for certain, but a perfect ally all the same.

the conversation had turned away from you, redirecting to some other crime the gang had accidentally committed. itto was waving around a half-empty glass, shinobu watching with amused eyes despite the harsh words coming from her mouth.

“you shouldn’t speak of the shogun that way.”

“why not? if she really had a problem with it, she’d strike me down with her lightning!”

“boss…”

the gang was loud, shouting across the table at each other and shoving those at their side in jest. the room was filled with the scent of spices and the sound of laughter, a sense of camaraderie and friendship settling in that you haven’t felt in a while.

perhaps…

perhaps you’d be alright.

#a lot of ranting in the tags so watch out #genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #arataki itto #sagau itto #sagau arataki itto #kuki shinobu #sagau shinobu #sagau kuki shinobu #the piece that makes me :) ft. an Attempt at a good layout!#i’m. trying to make a masterlist as we breathe but why do that when this?#ignore the shit quality of my image it’s a screenshot of a picture i took in genshin #god i fucking hate writing summaries #rant time? rant time who fucking reads my tags anyway #i keep my things in notion and only by title #so i memorize the title = the things inside them #but it SUCKS because i can’t like. beam my consciousness into yours? and i’m realizing that that’s probably fucking up like #the amount of people that read my things? because they’re like ‘well cool title op but what the fuck did you write’ and i go ‘no clue king’#anyway. i am. making an attempt. pls be proud of me #it is a Struggle #fuck it i’ll out this at 12:26 am on a school night #god isn’t real and if he was he wouldnt want shit to do with me

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mariacallous · 3 months

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Well, if you’re just joining us, the nation has delivered an all-night victim impact statement. Labour has won a landslide and the Conservatives have suffered their worst ever general election result. Keir Starmer – the prime minister – has promised “national renewal … to fight until you believe again”. Liz Truss has failed to save South West Norfolk, let alone “the west”. That is the big picture (if not the whole picture, with turnout and Labour’s vote share notably low). Meanwhile, it’s incredible to think that only a short while ago we thought we’d eradicated measles and Nigel Farage. Both have now been brought back, largely by the same people.

But look, after the 3am to 7am shift, no one will be able to say the right doesn’t do comedy. There were moments worthy of entire Netflix specials as in sports halls and community centres various Dickensian grotesques were ushered into their Christmas future, live on stage. Alas, it was going to take more than buying the Cratchits a turkey to get out of this one. Jacob Rees-Mogg heard his fate standing next to a candidate wearing a baked bean balaclava. He’ll be crying into Nanny’s starched bosom today. Committed sewage apologist Thérèse Coffey was pumped into the sea in Suffolk Coastal. Andrea Jenkyns had the middle finger given to her by the voters of Morley and Outwood. In Welwyn Hatfield, Grant Shapps chanted “supermajority” five times into the mirror, and then it came for him.

Then again, Michael Portillo losing his seat was supposedly 1997’s big moment. So perhaps the question is: in two years’ time, which current hate figure will be presenting a cosy travelogue on Europe’s most picturesque illegal migration routes? Alternatively, do remember that one person’s onstage humiliation is another person’s milk round for directorships in the arms trade.

Speaking of absolute weapons, hat twat George Galloway wimped out of his own count in Rochdale, presumably out of fatigability. He lost to Labour. There was jubilation for the Lib Dems, who finished not a million miles behind “the natural party of government”, and for the Greens, who won all four of their target seats. The SNP can now squeeze its MPs round the flip-down dining table of a motorhome. Referendum arguments may move to Northern Ireland, with Sinn Féin now that nation’s largest Westminster party.

As for Reform … Farage won in Clacton, a constituency for which he will now have to hold surgeries, presumably by Zoom link from his hot desk in the US presidential colon. Or as he put it in his victory speech: “This is the first steps of something that is going to stun all of you” – at least confirming his political abattoir will be bolt-gunning its victims unconscious first. Farage is the horror version of Inside Out, where Mendacity is only just holding off Racism at the control console. His cultural hinterland extends to a single Goodbye, Mr Chips DVD he got free with the Sunday Times in 2008, and the idea that this hollow chancer should still be one of the most significant politicians of the age says everything about the age.

Anyway, back to the Conservatives’ four-hour in-memoriam reel. Penny Mordaunt, Jonathan Gullis, Michael Fabricant, Gillian Keegan, Steve Baker, Alex Chalk, Johnny Mercer, Michelle Donelan, Victoria Prentis, Liam Fox, Mark Harper … all out, along with many more. So many cabinet ministers fell that the ones who live may actually develop survivor guilt. It’s currently unclear how gruesome things will be among the extant Conservatives in this post-apocalyptic world. As a fictional president once wondered of Dr Strangelove, will the living not end up envying the dead? Far from it, Strangelove reassures him, forcing down an involuntary Nazi salute. What will abound is a spirit of bold curiosity for the adventure ahead!

Speaking of which, 13th fairy Suella Braverman finally turned up, holding on in Fareham and cooing: “I am sorry that my party didn’t listen to you. The Conservative party has let you down.” Expect to see her humbly attempting to disembowel fellow survivors Jeremy Hunt and James Cleverly in the forthcoming trial-by-combat for what convention demands we style as “the soul of the Conservative party”.

At his count, Rishi Sunak explained he’d already conceded the election in a congratulatory call to Keir Starmer, adding, “I take responsibility for the loss.” In Downing Street, he confirmed he would be standing down as Tory leader in some sort of due course, stressing, “I have heard your anger.” Then, instead of yet another speech straight from the Tortured Prime Minister’s Department, this one offered humility and magnanimity, as well as a pointed reminder of the positive (and fragile?) progress that saw him become the UK’s first British-Asian prime minister. What a contrast to the relentless negativity of his past six weeks. Sunak’s campaign was conducted like a gender-reveal party where the device that’s meant to release the puff of blue smoke accidentally functions as a pipe bomb and burns the house down.

It also closed out several years of mindboggling chaos, dysfunction and national decline. They won’t be playing anything from this album on the Conservative party’s Eras tour. The Tories have cycled through five prime ministers over the past eight years, to the point where they were recently found going through the rubbish, pulling the first guy back out, thinking, “Actually, he doesn’t look half bad now,” and making him foreign secretary. This is the behaviour of addicts.

Not that they have the monopoly on erraticism. Any dispassionate view of these results suggests the fabled post-Brexit “realignment” is more of a dealignment – the huge sweeping gains of this or that political moment able to be reversed in previously unthinkable timespans. Volatility might now be our defining electoral characteristic, and a rise in sectarian politics cannot and should not be ignored. Because hey – what’s the worst that can happen with that one? Meanwhile, many people who derided the simplistic “Get Brexit done” slogan in 2019 have pretended not to notice that the winner here went out under the even more gnomic banner of “Change”.

Yet in the wider global context, what a win. One summer evening in 1914, the foreign secretary, Edward Grey, famously remarked: “The lamps are going out all over Europe.” In our own times, a darkening has recently felt at hand, as hard- or extreme-right parties have gained ground across the continent, to say nothing of the US. But here – in this country, in this moment – a different direction has been taken. That matters today, and anyone not on the wingnut fringes, who hopes to avoid those gathering shadows, should wish Keir Starmer good luck with his task. For plenty who would snuff out the lamps are also rising – increasingly, they walk among us.

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rangersveppir · 4 months

Text

First Post

Hello, my name is Jón Sveppir, you can call me Ranger Sveppir. I am a retired Ranger who now works at Skjøldur Labs in the Ohrken Region, and I am making this blog to share stuff about my work and show the great work the scientists are doing here.

So some important things out of the way:

I was born in Sinnoh

I joined the Sinnoh Rangers at 20, and served with them for for 14 years before being transferred to the Almia HQ. I have served in most regions at some point or another excluding Paldea and a few other.

Yes this does mean I have worked in Orre, yes It was not a fun experience.

I served with the Rangers until the age of 65 when I was forced to retire, though at that point I was no longer doing field-work. I was then approached by Skjøldur Labs who I had aided in the past while with the rangers and they offered to hire me, so here I am.

These days I mostly do paperwork and act as a interlocutor between the Rangers and Skjøldur.

Speaking of I should cover Skjøldur.

The lab here help with more bizarre or extreme cases that most other labs or centers cannot handle or lack the resources to do so. We also work on ways to allow Pokemon with these severe conditions to live longer happier lives.

For example, you may have seen quadrupedal pokemon with with wheelchairs before, the original design for which was created by the Skjøldur Labs founder.

Sorry for all the rambling I have never been one to be short-spoken. But yeah this blog is to share some of our work and to just share some of my day to day things. Feel free to ask any question you like, and I will do my best to answer. However, in cases of pokemon health and/or care, don't treat my words as gospel, take your pokemon to a center or somewhere else please. But yeah, feel free to ask whatever you like.

Gonna add my pokemon here as well for those interested.

Woops: (M) My starter and old af quagsire. Caught him in sinnoh as a wooper when I thought I was gonna be a trainer and he became my partner when I became a ranger. I have like 40-somethijg nicknames for this guy so if I say something like woops'alot or Woopsifur or Sire I'm talking about him.

Sol: My Valcorona, had a Larvesta egg dumped on me while I was in Unova, a real sweetheart, also has a sweet tooth, don't leave your snacks unguarded.

Sandy: (F) My castform, got her a while back when I was still an active ranger, she's a rescue from a raid done on an illegal breeding operation. Dr.Amilee discovered she likes wearing clothes so if you see a castform in a silly hat in one of my photos that'd be her.

Some other things

* Asks are open, feel free to ask anything, there are no stupid questions.

* Pelliper Mail is open.

Tags

_______

#sveppirrangerstories -- Stories from My time as a ranger, also just general stories will get lumped here. #sveppirhospital -- When I was sent to the hospital due to a possible terrorist action (still being investigated)

#sveppirunown -- the wierd unown sighting.

#sveppirfoodreview -- Food reviews

#SveppirAlolaTrip -- Business Trip to Alola

#sveppirphotos -- Photos

Please note I probably missed some of the early posts I am sorry.

If you would like to donate you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/thetrickster314

#pokemon irl #pokemon ranger #rotomblr #pokemon #Sveppir #Skjøldur Labs #Sinnoh #orre region #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #pokeblog intro #pokeblr

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moonshynecybin · 4 months

Note

the monster energy hat stays ON during sex

stopping mid thrust to do sponcon for la roche posay

but literally yeah lol. like post THIS insane presscon moment they literally both know they’re getting laid after this how can they not. half hard the whole time crossed legs so no one can see. finding SOMEWHERE to be alone and it’s not even a SEXY place but the door locks and marc is whipping his shirt off efficiently and immediately abs insane arms go crazy so it’ll fucking workkkkkk. pressed up against vale completely naked vale with god’s absolute worst case of hat head it should literally be illegal. not even bothering to get fully undressed. shirt ON belt LOOSE earring DANGLING… pokes marc in the side makes him giggle leans in to kiss him nasty. stil jajajaja-ing against his mouth until the whore instinct kicks in… marking marc upppp hickies off the shits one hand on his ass leg between his thighs little smirk the WHOLEEEEE time… gets marc off feels absolutely fucking crazy about it jerks off on his abs does NOT clean him up. marc beaming also does not clean himself up. kisses him sweetly pats him on the ass and swans out of the room to go over the data on turn 13 his mechanic sent over… mission accomplished ✅ go team. crucially marc is also wearing his red bull hat the entire time… hilarious energy drink rivalry gimmick 5ever…

#the flack marc would get from vale for his underwear habit… i would like to see it…#motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 2 months

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Day 8: Reunion/Friends

While she was frantically moving the files to her USB drive, Reporter kept giving worried looks to the door.

It was locked. Everyone was at the Socialite’s reception downstairs, no one had any reason to give alarm, but still, if she was caught...the computer was not helping things. Like every computer, it was a freaking liar. “Only less than sixty seconds left”, it was announcing since at least five minutes. She tapped on the desk nervously, struggling against her impulse to just rip off the drive and run away like hell was on her tail. Not that the office was especially threatening, with its light walls and the pictures drawn by children exposed everywhere. But- well. If that were the inside that counted, then what was on the computer was enough to wanting to flee to another country. She jumped at every furniture creaking – and maybe it was her own nerves, but they were creaking a little too much. She had looked for cameras, and she was sure she had deactivated all of them, but she felt observed. While the computer was still working – now it announced two minutes left, the traitor – the door opened. Reporter opened her mouth, a smile plastered on her face, ready to find an explanation, any explanation – but the hallway was empty. She sighed in relief, her heart pounding.

Then something pressed against her mouth, preventing her to scream. Her legs buckled. For a few seconds, she felt she was going to faint, but then she squinted and threw her elbow behind her. There was a groan of pain and a voice sounded in her ear:

“What are you doing, dumbass?”

Her eyes widened:

“Hero?” she whispered.

He relapsed her grip on her, and she turned to face him. Now she could see him, his annoyed expression, and his stomach that he was massaging.

“What are you-” she began.

“Let’s get out before getting caught.”

She let him grab her hand while they went off - as long as she didn’t let go, she’d be just as invisible as him. They stayed silent during their runaway, but when he led her to the rooftop, she risked a:

“Are you really sure we should go up?”

“It’s the safest way. ”

And true enough, although there was no guard there, the roof next to the building was close enough to jump. Reporter landed on both her feet. She glared at the roof, at the city, and at her clenched fist that was still holding the flash drive.

“I repeat,” said Hero. “What the hell were you doing?”

“You got nerve! You were snooping too.”

“I wasn’t, actually. I volunteered to play the wardens, to make sure there’s no problem during the party.”

She gave him a disgusted look:

“So you could lick the boots of this guy? What, does the Hero Agency needs a couple of millions for pocket change?”

“So I can look around and notice anything suspicious, dummy. Ever learned of working undercover?”

He stuck out her tongue at her, like he did ten years ago when he was upset with her, and she made a face in answer. It had been a while. Somewhere buried in their phone, the two of them had the same photo of two teens wearing the same silly hat and drawn mustache. Years of birthdays, parties and diploma celebrations flashed through both their minds. Neither of them smiled. Reporter frowned, snorting:

“Oh, and it’s the Hero agency who asked you that?”

“No,” he acknowledged. “What about you ? Did you enter legally or did you break in?”

“Oh no, the richest man in the city just let me waltz in his private office all the time - take a wild guess.”

He sighed. She crossed her arms, staring at him.

“Are you going to arrest me, then?”

He shook her head, rolling his eyes:

“You know that proof that are found illegally wouldn’t help in a tribunal.”

“I know my job,” she replied dryly. “Whose notes did you copy when you were “sick” at the university?”

For the first time, Hero smiled. That was a tired, small smile, but a smile nevertheless.

“That was a simpler life,” he said.

Reporter gripped her elbows, as if a cold wind suddenly blew:

“But not better”, she said. “Your mother was sick, I had to take care of my sister- We were already overwhelmed by- by everything.”

“Ah, but we got a lot drunker together.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. He lightly punched her shoulder and she did the same.

“What are you doing to do with it?”

“Well, read it first. Information is power. And then, use it to catch him red-handed.”

“All by yourself?”

“Do I have a choice? Everyone loves that guy. Including your bosses. Why are you suspicious of him?”

“Made my own research. You’re right. Several employees died this last month. Someone here is up to something;”

There was a silence before adding quietly:

“Villain is terrified of him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I should interview them.”

Hero’s laugh died on his lips when he realized she said that stone-faced.

“What? No! Why would you take that risk instead of-”

“Instead of?”

He waved at himself vehemently:

“Teaming up with me, obviously! Look, I know it’s been years, but you - we were friends! We were best friends! Are you going to resent me forever because I became a Hero?”

“I know why you did it. You needed the money for your mother, and you wanted to control your invisibility power.”

“But you stopped talking to me like I made a bargain with the devil.”

“I don’t trust the Agency.”

“Me neither. I don’t ask you to. But I want a second chance.”

Reporter looked at him, at the big guy in the cheap costume, and saw a teen with a goofy smile. Come to think of it….yeah, come to think of it, she missed him too. She bit her lip and held out her hand. He hugged her in relief.

“I’m still going to interview Villain,” she said after a moment. “Alone or with you, that’s your choice.”

“Oh, dammit ! Fine.”

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist

Whump/Horror Masterlist

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hellishjoel · 11 months

Note

hello, hi, kry here. i was wondering if mayhaps you would consider writing me a smutty little one-shot for either frankie or joel. it's my birthday tomorrow and i would love to read something by my fave writer on here. okie byeeee! love you <3

happy birthday, princess

2k // pairing: frankie morales x birthday girl!reader

summary: in an attempt to lift your spirits after having to work on your birthday, Frankie takes you to the beach to spend the evening together.

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), frankie fucking morales, smut, swearing, pet names, fingering (f! receiving)

A/N: happiest of birthdays kry! this message made me tear up, I'm so lucky to have you as part of my community. happy 24th lovely <3 I hope you like the moldboard! frankie core for the one and only @joelmillers-whore

“You shouldn’t have to work on your birthday,” Frankie reasoned as he watched you weave through the bedroom while he sat out of the way on the bed. You were collecting your items before you left. “It should be illegal.”

His attempt at a light-hearted joke made you give him a weak, tight-lipped smile.

“I know.” You whisper, a certain sadness aching in your chest. The last thing you wanted to do on your special day was work. You had requested off, but management denied it for one reason or the other.

This was your first birthday with your boyfriend, Frankie. He seemed even more excited than you did. And all the more disappointed when you told him you wouldn’t be able to spend the day with him like you had originally planned.

“I’ll be home before you know it. Then we can do something together.” You try to put on your best face, gently cupping Frankie’s cheek as you angle his face upwards to face you. Your fingers brush against dark stubble, admiring his chocolate puppy dog eyes. You like the little wrinkles around his eyes.

Frankie sighed but ultimately nodded. He stood up from the bed, a hand locked on your hip. He tilted up his hat brim with his opposite hand and leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your stomach rushes with butterflies, letting his happiness consume you and jumpstarting your mood for the day.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur against his lips despite feeling his hands wander a bit to keep you close. You throw back your head and laugh as his lips sputter kisses down your cheek and neck, his hands feeling more like they were tickling you rather than holding you now. “Okay! Okay, I have to go.”

Frankie’s smile is still there, warm and tender, but he straightens up and loosens his hold on you.

“We’ll do something tonight. Promise.” He resolves with a tight nod, and you agree.

“Tonight.”

One more goodbye kiss, and you’re scurrying to your car, cursing Frankie for nearly making you late.

---

“What on Earth are you doing here?”

Your smile is wide as you exit the back door of your work to see Frankie in his vintage red Chevrolet Corvet.

“I thought you put the Corvet away since summer was over?” You asked excitedly, gently extending your fingers out to glide along the cherry paint.

Frankie merely shrugs, donning his casual aviators and baseball cap. He was wearing an old hoodie, seeing him squint behind his sunglasses.

“I did,” Frankie lightly grunts as he reaches across the center console and unlocks your door, thrusting it open wide for you to slip in. “But today’s a special occasion. Now get in.” He grins.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as you throw your belongings in the back and settle into his passenger seat.

“But today,” you emphasize, “is almost over. And it’s October. Where exactly are we cruising to this late in the day?” You ask, observing the open section of the roof.

Frankie smirks as he hands you a blanket to cover your lap and pats your leg gently before readjusting his aviators. “Let’s ride, baby.”

---

The car drives along the coast, and he was right to give you a blanket. Despite getting warmer temperatures compared to the rest of the country, being by the water caught colder temperatures.

You watch as you wind down the rocky hills from above, eyeing the brilliant blue water as the sunset creates ripples of orange and purple across the soon navy sky. Your troubles of earlier today feel melted away. Frankie squeezes the hold he has on your hand.

After parking and finding a secluded spot on the beach, Frankie retrieved a cooler from the trunk and walked with you through the sandy landscape. It was beautiful, breathtaking, a bit chilly, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You secured the blanket around your shoulders, watching him pile a few logs together and start a little bonfire.

You playfully applauded, and Frankie bowed graciously at your praise.

“Thank you, thank you very much. I was a boy scout.”

Frankie wound down beside you, groaning softly before popping open the cooler. He offers you a drink, then finds a beer for himself. The fire blazes orange and sparks a few stray ashes into the air.

He feels you lean into his arm, wanting you even closer as he lifts it to wrap around your shoulders and snuggle you into his side.

He smells your shampoo and lingering perfume from this morning. He holds your hand over your lap and gently caresses his thumb along the extent of your palm. He shyly glances down, seeing your beautiful features highlighted by the flickering flames. You’re warm, body and soul. You bring Frankie a sense of ease and comfort. A place to call home, a reason to put his guard down.

“Wait, what’s this?” Frankie asks as he burrows through his cooler, pulling out supplies for smore’s.

You giggle and enthusiastically reach for the chocolate, humming as you bust open the plastic packaging while Frankie opens the rest of the supplies.

The two of you hunt for sticks, ones long enough to roast marshmallows.

“Oh, babe, this one is fuckin’ perfect, look.”

You giggle that he’s so excited. “You’re a champ, that’s a beautiful stick, baby.”

He aids you in clamping squared-off graham crackers and a pad of chocolate around your golden brown marshmallow, cooing in excitement as he hands you the finished masterpiece that was your s’more.

The two of you toast and casually discuss what’s next for you and what this new year of yours will bring. He thinks of good luck, safety, and love.

You stay for as long as you can, but it is October, and it is especially chilly by the water. But this night meant so much for you, especially to have Frankie go out of his way and drive miles and miles out of town to take you to the water, where you felt the most free and liberated.

Frankie smothers the fire with his boot, and you make your trek back up to the car. He tells you to wait in the car with your blanket while he loads everything else, to which you don’t fight him. He secures the roof over the car and smiles at your playful chattering teeth.

He can’t stop thinking about warming you up. He tries to distract himself the rest of the ride by singing to music with you or letting you tell him about your day, but he can’t stop thinking about your body, the warmth he could bring just with his hand alone.

“Frankie?” You ask cautiously, clasping his hand that was now clamped onto your thigh. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours, huh?”

He takes in a deep breath through his nostrils and turns to you, puppy dog eyes, desperate for something. But what?

“You cold?” He asks, to which your eyebrows furrow.

“Well, yeah.” You finally whisper, feeling his hands snake higher to the button on your jeans. You weren’t exactly easy to access right now, but god, you wish you were.

“Push’em down, baby. Put the blanket over you.”

His voice is authoritative enough that you listen. You push down your jeans past your thighs, securing the blanket over yourself in case any wandering eyes from passing cars caught Frankie’s hand down your pants.

Your stomach twists as he slips past the blanket. You whimper, his hand is only slightly cold as you shakily breathe through it, looking forward.

“That’s it, princess, keep lookin’ at the road.” He hums. He’s got one hand tight on the steering wheel, the other coasting down the front of your panties. Somehow, he’s more focused now that he’s able to take care of what he’s been thinking about.

Your hand tightens around his wrist and urge him on, causing a playful laugh out of him. “So fuckin’ pretty when you need me, princess.”

God, he would be the death of you.

Frankie’s fingers work over your panties, tracing your seam before he nudges the underwear in his way aside. You bite down on your lower lip and look over at him. How fucking handsome he was, how lucky you were to have him as yours. How he thought the same for you.

His eyes catch yours, and you hastily nod. He turns back to the road and slowly coats his fingers with your slick, moaning quietly as your eyes flutter in bliss. He does a tight circle around your clit before moving downwards to your entrance. It’s like he’s mapping the well-known terrain, finding what’s making you tick tonight.

“Had such a long day at work today, Frankie, please. Take care of me.” You whisper.

Hearing you beg isn’t Frankie’s goal. It’s your birthday, and he would do just about anything you asked right about now. You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, that was for sure.

You were soaked, begging for release, begging for Frankie to take care of you. He promised he always would. You were his girl. He couldn’t take not being inside you, but his fingers would suffice until the two of you were home.

Frankie listens to your symphony of whimpers as his first two fingers notch into your entrance, feeling you shift in your seat and spread your legs wider under the protection of the blanket to allow him full access to your sex. He sinks them deeper, and the stretch is intense but pleasurable.

You whimper his name, and it’s his kryptonite. “C’mon, baby, lemme hear how good it feels.”

His fingers bury themselves in you, knuckles brushing your sweet folds as his fingers curl.

You throw your head back in satisfaction, jaw dropped, eyes wide as he hits a certain nerve inside you, one that is screaming to be touched.

“Fuck,” you breathily exert, your breasts distracting Frankie as you arch your back lightly in your seat. “Feels like heaven, Frankie, oh shit,” you cry out, making him smirk.

If he wasn’t fucking driving right now, he’d take you in his arms, spread your legs, and bury himself between your thighs for days, needing nothing more than the taste of your cum on his tongue.

But he was driving, and you were beside him, falling into his bicep and cradling your face into his arm for protection.

“That’s it, baby, feel how good those fucking fingers feel inside you?”

You can barely push up an answer, just a weak nod as you still clamp your hand tightly around his wrist.

Frankie starts a decent rhythm with his fingers, in and out, curling and massaging the sensitive walls that love whatever he’s doing. A coil starts to wind inside you, begging for release. Your legs begin to shake and twitch, moaning his name softly as he continues to make you feel good.

“M’not gonna last much longer- fuck,” you force out breathily, arching your back and falling into Frankie’s arm as your head lays lifelessly on his shoulder. You can feel his smirk pressed to the crown of your head.

“Can feel you tensing around me, princess, let go.”

You whimper, but his words push you over the edge. It feels like scrabbling at the end of a cliff, damn near falling, feeling your orgasm crash through you helplessly. Frankie’s foot lays heavy on the pedal as you squeeze desperately around his fingers, feeling him continue his pace until you’ve leaked all the cum you can onto his fingers. He barely even touched your clit, and you were folding for him.

You’re breathless, weakly moaning and whispering his name and other profanities mixed in there, too.

“Jesus Christ,” you say once you’ve pushed yourself back into your seat, and he’s pulled his fingers from you.

“I prefer Frankie.” He teases.

He locks eyes with you as he does a long lick up his first two digits, properly licking them clean. It makes another intense coil twist inside you.

“Don’t worry. You can have everything else once we get home. To properly celebrate your birthday.”

You shyly smile and nod, pulling his hand into your lap and squeezing it tightly.

“I don’t even care that I had to work today. At least I get to spend tonight with you.”

Frankie quips up a smile and squeezes your hand under the blanket. “I’m the lucky one. Happy birthday, princess.”

---

happy 24th birthday, kry! thank you for such a kind message. I know you had to work today, but I hope you have a great year filled with lots of love, great friendships, and kindness <3

#joelmillers-whore #happy birthday!#frankie morales #frankie morales smut

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

Text

Dark Betrayals Part Two

Sebastian 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Ominis

MC visits the illegal duelling pit and bumps into a familiar face. Chapter One

Violence, death, angst. 🔞 NSFW 🌶 🔥

Chapter Two - The Duel Pit

The rumble of a train echoed through the dark tunnel and water dripped a steady trickle from somewhere in the dark. MC followed Daisy down the long shadowed walkway, their hands clasped, her heart thudding. Not with nerves or fear, but with anticipation and excitement.

It had been a long time since she had been sneaking through dark, creepy places and being up to no good. As they neared the duelling pit, she realised she had missed this kind of adventure.

A twinge of guilt was quickly swept aside. Ominis had been at home when she left with her broom, claiming she needed to go for a fly to clear her head. The lie had flowed easily from her tongue, and she had let him kiss her goodbye, before slipping off into the night. He had no idea where she really was.

Daisy paused and held her hand up. "We're here," she smiled. She waved her hand against the magical ward that marked the boundary of the protection spells. "We need to step through here. It's okay, we'll be alright. I got a favour out of one of my best clients, he is going to let us through, no questions asked."

She put her fingers into her mouth and whistled loudly, the sound echoing down the tunnel.

"Did you tell anyone else we were coming?" MC asked. She pulled the black flat cap she was wearing lower over her face.

Daisy shook her head. "No, I know you don't want your man to find out," she said, quietly. "Don't worry, you look the part. Nobody will look twice at you."

MC was wearing her black duelling trousers and a black shirt. Around her throat she wore a black and grey scarf and the black flat cap was low over her face. She wore braces over her shirt, and they had wrapped her breasts tightly to try and hide them. At a quick glance she might have passed for a young lad, in the dark it was even harder to tell, with her hair tightly pinned under her hat.

She put her hands in her pockets and kept her head dipped as a man appeared on the other side of the wards. He smiled and winked at Daisy. "Come on in," he said, flicking his wand to lift the ward. Daisy giggled and dragged her fingers playfully across his chest.

He eyed MC but said nothing more as they followed him down the rest of the tunnel towards the sound of a rowdy crowd. As they stepped out into the wide open space, MC gaped. In the centre was the duelling pit surrounded by a wooden barrier that ran all the way around in an oval shape. The crowd were all around it, rising up in tiers to allow the best views. The ceiling was high and vaulted, the sounds bouncing off the stone work creating a cacophony of noise. MC grinned, her blood thrumming with the energy in the room.

The crowd was jeering at a man strutting around the pit, his hands up, wand out. Another man lay on the duelling ground, unmoving. MC's eyes widened as she gazed around at the baying crowd, the pool of blood under the body spreading slowly outwards. "Is he...?"

Daisy squeezed her hand. "It happens sometimes," she nodded. "Come on, let's get you a spot to watch. I might need to disappear, I'm here to work, remember? Fighting gets men all horny and riled up. I should make good coin tonight."

MC gave her friend a sad look. She wanted more for Daisy, but the girl was smiling brightly, her eyes dancing at the men in the crowd, her shoulders tilting perfectly to tempt and tease.

MC continued to keep her head low as they threaded through the crowd. The quick glances up revealed a mixed bunch of onlookers, men and women, all eagerly placing their bets and shouting their encouragement. And then she caught sight of Marvolo Gaunt.

Tall, broad shouldered, and as arrogant as ever, his black eyes glittering like onyx as he watched the next duel unfold before him. His black suit was immaculate, his dark hair equally neat, his care over himself as evident as his brother’s.

MC darted her gaze away, quickly, and adjusted her hat again. She did not want to be seen by Marvolo.

She moved through the shadows, the stone ceiling lighting up with the flash and flicker of spells, the colours washing over the agitated faces of the crowd. It was surprisingly hot in here and MC tugged uncomfortably at the scarf around her neck as they came to a stop in a dark corner of the pit.

Daisy let her hand go. "This is where I leave you," she said. "Don't do anything stupid."

MC gave her a smirk. "As if I would."

Daisy didn't look convinced. "Remember what I told you about getting out if shit goes down? You can't Apparate until you're outside the wards."

MC nodded. "Head down and follow the symbols etched on the tunnel walls."

Daisy smiled and gave her a quick hug. "I love you. Be safe, MC."

MC hugged her back and then Daisy was gone, and MC was alone in the crowd, a duel taking place before her. She smiled and rubbed her hands together, leaning forward to get a better look.

....*....

Sebastian grunted as he helped the lackey toss the body into the cart. Another duelist down. He wiped his hands on a rag and sighed. "Hold off for a bit just in case we lose another before the night is over," he said. "I'd rather we only wheel the cart down to the incinerator once."

"Sure thing, boss." The lackey kicked the foot of the dead duelist and chuckled. "Poor bastard."

Sebastian's face was grim, his eyes dark. "He knew the risks."

The pit was loud tonight, but money was changing hands, the whores were looking pretty, and the punters were getting the blood bath they were after. Sebastian was feeling rather satisfied as he threaded his way through the crowd.

He passed by Marvolo Gaunt, and they exchanged a polite nod in greeting. Once out of Gaunt's eyeline, Sebastian's face slipped into a scowl as he remembered their last conversation.

Ominis was indeed in London, and working at the Ministry no less, in the office of the Minister himself. Smug prick.

But, the real kick to the guts had been discovering who his old friend was bedding down with. The information hammered through his brain, his stomach churning, and he felt his throat close up.

Ominis was fucking MC.

But that meant she was in London too, and this made his heart pound. He hadn't seen her since that last day at Hogwarts. His head had been an absolute mess, all the shit that they had been through, the pain, the rage...it had all ended up being for nothing when Anne had succumbed to her curse.

His twin had died. A life in Scotland had been unthinkable. He had got the fuck out of there before he really did do something stupid.

Instead of coming with him, MC had stayed behind, those gorgeous eyes pleading with him to stay. He couldn't.

His grief and the threat of a term in Azkaban hanging over him were the final straws. Ominis had made it very clear of what he would do if Sebastian so much as looked at the words 'dark magic'.

Now, it was clear what Ominis' real intention had been. Get rid of him, so he could keep MC for himself. Sebastian felt his mouth tighten. Even now, Ominis was sending Aurors after him, not content until he was captured or dead, and out of MC's life for good.

Lost in his thoughts, his face brooding, Sebastian did not see the lad until he knocked him with his shoulder. The lad stumbled, a delicate cry escaping his lips. Instinctively, Sebastian shot out a helping hand and gripped his arm to stop him from going over. "Easy now, boy," he said.

The lad went rigid, freezing under his grip, a slender hand reaching up to yank his hat low over his face, but not before Sebastian caught a glimpse of a flushed cheek and delicately parted lips. He frowned, his gaze noting the slender wrists, a silver bracelet far too pretty for a boy hanging just under the cuff of the black shirt.

It was a girl. Goosebumps spread up his arms as he noticed more detail, the wisps of hair escaping from under the hat, the slender curve of neck peeking out from behind a scarf, and then he could smell it, the perfume - soft jasmine. He gasped, breathing in that scent, and he was flying back five years, his face buried into an alluring neck, his lips pressed against warm skin.

In one swift movement, he pulled the cap from her head, and his gaze met with the most captivating eyes he had ever known. She was here, right in front of him.

"MC..." His voice was barely a sound, swallowed by the shouts around them. Why in Merlin's name was she here, and dressed as a boy? A cold thought slithered through his mind. Had Ominis sent her to spy on him? Would she do that for him?

Their gazes were locked, him stunned, almost disbelieving what was right in front of him, while she was hesitant, curious, her pupils fully dilated as she stared with what could almost be described as hunger.

Sebastian took a steadying breath, gathering himself. He had never been able to resist those eyes of hers, but they were in the middle of a crowd, and he wasn't sure he could even trust her.

But, the urge to claim that pouty little mouth right here was making his jaw clench, and his grip tightened on her arm. He was pulling her closer, her eyes dropping to look at his mouth, and he felt that irresistible pull, that desperate ache to feel her, all of her.

Gods, not here. He tore his gaze from her face and hauled her away, dragging her through the crowd, his only thought being to get her somewhere very dark and very private. He needed answers.

He had seen the way she had looked at him, that burn, and a thought turned over in his mind. Ominis wasn't the only one who could play dirty.

....*....

The faces were a blur as Sebastian pulled her through the press of hot bodies. Her heart was hammering so hard and fast she felt a bit dizzy, shock was barrelling through her body, her arm burning under his firm grip.

Sebastian was taller, broader, his face chiselled and hard, but those eyes...Gods, those eyes. Staring into his deep, brown eyes had wiped away the years lost between them. Her body had answered the call of them, a deep primal need to just touch him. It was overwhelming, and it was crashing through her, wiping out everything else.

For a blistering heartbeat she had thought he was going to kiss her.

What if he had?

Her cheeks flushed, and then ice slithered down her spine. Ominis.

Her step faltered, resisting his hold on her arm. He glanced back at her, the very sight of him stealing her breath all over again. "Where are we going?" She asked.

His lips curved, slowly, a devastating smirk that sent a different kind of shiver down her spine. "Somewhere a little quieter," he replied. His eyes burned into hers. "I've got some questions for you, away from prying eyes."

She swallowed hard, and then she was being led towards a dark opening, a narrow tunnel. She glanced back once over her shoulder, but nobody was paying them any attention, the crowd was too busy watching the duel in progress.

After striding down the narrow tunnel a fair way, Sebastian turned her against the wall, one hand pressed against the stone beside her head, his face intense on hers. "What are you doing here?"

It was dark, a very faint glow from the direction they had come was all that lit his face. Half of it was in shadow, like he was split in two, light and dark. MC struggled to breathe, the proximity of him was overwhelming, and she needed to get in control. She was older and wiser, remember? She could handle Sebastian Sallow.

She licked her lips. "I'm watching the duels," she said, lifting her chin. "At least, I was, until you rudely dragged me out of there."

His gaze flicked lazily over her. "Liar," he said. "Why are you dressed like a boy? Have a need to hide do you? Maybe your lover sent you here to spy on me? He so enjoys doing that, doesn't he? Watching my every move, reporting back to the Ministry. He must be getting desperate if he sent you after me."

MC's mouth dropped in shock, her heart stopping. Ominis would never do such a thing. "What? That's absurd!"

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, very good. You almost look convincing," he said. She flinched as his other hand gripped her chin, his face suddenly very serious, eyes glittering in the dark. "Don't fuck with me. I know Ominis is sending Aurors after me, and now you're here in disguise, the question is why?"

His voice, deep and cold, slid over her. His gaze was intense, his face so close now she could feel his breath on her cheeks. He was intimidating, and strong, looming over her, and damn if she wasn't trembling.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ominis wouldn't do that. What reason would he have to do so?"

"To get me out of the way, of course," he said. He bent his head even lower, his mouth dangerously close to hers. It made her head spin. "How long was it after I left that you climbed into his bed, MC? A day, a month? Or were you in it already before I was even gone."

Anger sliced through her daze and she shoved both hands against his chest, pushing him away. "That's not how it was. You were the one who left, Sebastian. You! You abandoned me, without any word, for years!"

"I stopped sending owls when you stopped replying!" He snapped. He pushed his hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. "I couldn't face coming back, not after losing Anne. When you stopped replying, I figured I'd lost you too, so I stayed away. Turns out I was right. I lost you to him."

MC tried to get her thoughts straight but she was all tied up in knots. She put her hands to her head. "You left me," she said. "You left the both of us, and we turned to each other for comfort."

"Bollocks!" Sebastian glowered, his hands clenched into fists. "He wanted you all to himself. He still does, that's why he sent those Aurors down here the other day, they were looking for me at his word. I heard it from their own lips."

"I don't believe you!" She hissed. "What's the point after all this time?"

"You tell me," Sebastian said, flinging his hand out. "You're the one fucking him!"

A growl of frustration burst from her throat. "You're still an impossible bastard," she snapped. She pushed off from the wall, she needed to get out of this tiny tunnel, away from him. She made it two strides before he was on her, pressing her against the wall, his hand around her throat.

She gasped, bucking upwards to try and shove him off, but he used his legs and hips to help pin her snug against the wall, the pair of them struggling until she relented, glaring up at him. The press of his body against hers was a delicious weight that made her want to scream with guilt and shame.

His hand didn't squeeze her throat, but those long fingers were splayed around the column of her neck, holding her head upwards so she was forced to look at him.

His lips were barely touching hers, their panting breaths mingling. His thumb teased under her jaw. "Do you ever think about me, MC? You know, when he touches you, when he fucks you. Do you ever close your eyes and imagine its me?"

"No," she whispered. The feel of his lips grazing against hers as he spoke was doing unforgivable things to her insides. What the fuck was he playing at? "Why would I do that?"

He smiled, slow, teasing. He moved his mouth, dragging his parted lips across her cheek and dipping down to her ear. She shivered and closed her eyes. No, no, no, this was wrong. This was bad. He had to stop. She had to stop him. Now.

"Next time he touches you, like this..."

MC felt the faintest brush of fingertips against her inner thigh and a whimper escaped her lips, the muscles on her thighs clenching at the spear of flame that shot through her. She bit down on her lip, desperate not to show him what he was doing to her, but he knew. The bastard knew. His lips were sinful against the shell of her ear. "Next time he makes you moan, think of me. I fucking dare you."

"Bastard," she whined through clenched teeth.

His chuckle rumbled deeply in his chest. He slowly released her and stepped back, he stared at her through his lashes. "Why don't you run along home to Ominis? You can ask him about those Aurors perhaps. And then when you get into bed, remember what I said. You know where to find me now, MC." His smirk was sinful. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

He walked off down the tunnel and she stared at his receding back. She hated him. She wanted him. So much for being in control. Once again he had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions inside of her, and questions were spinning in her mind.

If she asked Ominis about the spying, he would know she had spoken to Sebastian, he would know she knew he was here.

She held her head in her hands. She had wanted something exciting, some adventure, a little danger, and like history repeating itself, Sebastian had provided.

....*....

The hour was late, or early, depending on how you looked at it. Dawn would be here soon, and the air was chilled. Ominis sat on the edge of his bed, MC fast asleep behind him. He listened to the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the sound almost soothing to his ears. She was home and safe.

In his hands he held a piece of cloth, her scarf, the material soft under his finger tips. He lifted it to his face, pressing the material to his skin and breathing in the soft scent of jasmine and her. He nuzzled at it, a crease appearing on his brow.

He had worried when she had said she was going for a fly on her broom. It was not unusual, she found it comforting and it cleared her thoughts, but it meant she was still restless, her head in turmoil.

Tonight, when she came home, she had not carried the scent of the crisp night air on her skin. Usually, the flight would bring nature's own fresh smells home in her hair, on her clothes. But, tonight, she had come home smelling of smoke and stale air, similar to those times she would practise her duelling spells in the Undercroft.

He breathed in against her scarf once more. Soft jasmine, smoke, stale air and a subtle whiff of something citrus based with a touch of cinnamon. This was a new scent on her and he tried to place it, his mind turning in circles.

Something dark and unnerving tugged at his insides. He did not think she had been out flying on her broom tonight, and he was sure it had something to do with her visit to The Black Rose pub the other day. She had lied.

What was she doing to ease this restlessness she had spoken of? He was almost afraid to ask.

To be continued... Chapter Three

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x f!mc #blueraineshadows

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whumpbug · 3 months

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okay okay okay so I held back on this one because I asked alternate already BUT. can you put Gene and Cassidy in a sci-fi story. what would they wear what are their roles do you have scene snippets or dialog? sci-fi is my favorite thing ever and as always feel free to ignore if this isn't the vibe!!! i love you bug /p!!!!!

OHOHOHOHOHHOH SETH I LOVE U /P

i am all for a sci-fi vibe. even if star wars is TECHNICALLY a space opera, i love love love the space setting and i would be DELIGHTED to talk about it.

im gonna word vomit on the page first and them ill try my hand at a few drabbles in this au. strap in for ANOTHER very long post. THANK U AGAIN SETH I LOVE UR ASKS I TRULY CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THEM /GEN

okay so. since i'm only really well-versed in star wars sci-fi concepts, this is going to be a vaguely star wars inspired au but i'll try to phrase it in a way thats more applicable to sci-fi in General (its always so fun to translate their jobs and personalities into different settings)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

we'll start with gene. idk why but i'm getting very much a bounty hunter vibe from him. like someone who maybe works for a larger organization or guild hunting down notorious criminals (i mention that he works for an Entity bc i think its sort of important that he doesnt choose his bounties himself. he gets them assigned)

i think he would still do it out of a sense of responsibility because he doesn't think bad people should just be running around like that, but also because. a man's gotta make a living. he's gotta pay the bills.

i can see him having his own little ship that he practically lives out of considering how much he travels, and i feel like he'd get very attached to his ship (much like calliope. sorry calliope you've become a spaceship in this au)

OMG AND ALSO A THOUGHT IS BEING BEAMED INTO MY HEAD.

he wears a mask. you can't see his face when he's out doing jobs. he conceals his face, partially because he doesn't want people to see when hes scared or smug or anything like that and partially for the Swag.

that brings me to his overall outfit. i believe in my heart of hearts that gene would wear something like this (i wish i could credit the artist but i couldnt find it)

except instead of an entire helmet, it would be more of just a black piece of cloth pulled loosely over his mouth and nose. and im also seeing him in a very wide brimmed hat that he can tilt down to Brood pls tell me you guys see the vision.

he'd have a little revolver-looking blaster and knowing him, it'd be set to stun. i don't think he really enjoys bringing people in cold, and does his best to avoid it when he can

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

OK now onto cassidy. my beautiful darling boy silver. my sweetiepie.

it was kind of difficult to translate his profession into this setting because. it involves more people other than him.

ultimately i decided that, similar to the modern au, he is a part of an underground business, kind of like a rebellion of sorts, that fight against the injustices of the galaxy robin-hood style. of course, montana is the leader (unfortunately) and cassidy is essentially his right hand man

i can see cassidy traveling planet to planet, dismantling corrupt governments, providing for the needy, and having an absolute blast doing it, but his methods are. very illegal. and there is a growing bounty on his head.

nearly every major government wants specifically him locked away for life because of the destruction he's caused, and of course they hire the very best bounty hunter around to track him down.

and of course cassidy is a slippery fellow

cue their little cat and mouse thing they've got going on. gene wants to catch him because if he does, he'd practically be set for life. cassidy runs away because, well. he has a job to do. he can't get caught, especially by the weirdly attractive masked dude that talks to his spaceship.

and lastly, here is what i think cassidy's fit would vaguely look like:

he loves ponchos he can't help it. they're too comfy.

he too would have a little revolver-blaster thing and of course, his knife and hat. one thing that it different is the stolen jewelry. i decided that instead of stealing jewelry from the awful people, he takes mechanical/droid parts for his little buddy that he keeps around named SC-071-1 (haha. ahaha get it. please tell me someone gets it.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

OK ONTO THE DRABBLES AND SNIPPETS! you get 3 because im feeling Generous /pos. here in the first little snippet for you. this is the two meeting in a bar and not wanting to make a scene (gene tracked him there) (i just wanted to write a silly tense scene)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Cassidy heard Gene before he saw him.

The man was always stomping around in a way no one could quite replicate. His footsteps were deliberate, cold, and unmistakable.

And they were right behind him.

The business end of a blaster was suddenly pressed into Cassidy's ribs and his mouth went dry.

"I'll have a Jet Juice. On the rocks."

Gene tossed the bartender a coin, to which he grumbled indignantly and began on the drink.

Cassidy risked a sideways glance at the bounty hunter. His expression was unreadable and hidden as always, and he didn't even turn to look at Cassidy. Instead, Gene leaned close and spoke lowly into his ear.

"Make a scene and you're dead. Try to run and you're dead. Turn on your comm and you're dead. Am I clear?"

Cassidy smirked, and mocked a salute. "Loud 'n clear, sir."

Gene gave a curt nod and turned to the bar. The bartender slid him his drink, which he downed in one go, and he was just about to order another when--

He sputtered when he felt something pressed into a certain.. important area. He blanched.

"Didn't say anything about fightin' fire with fire, did you, cowboy?" Cassidy grinned. The sight of the big bad bounty hunter squirming because his family jewels were threatened never got old.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

DRABBLE 2 HERE WE GO. this one is gene finding cassidy after a mission gone sour. cassidy was effectively abandoned by montana with the promise that he would come back for him.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The whole mission was a bust from the beginning.

Cassidy should have known. He had a gut feeling-- that it was some sort of trap specifically designed for the organization. When he brought it up to Montana, he said that it was just Cassidy being paranoid. And, of course, he believed him. He always did

And now, there he was, beaten within an inch of his life and left to the elements by the government higher-ups.

They really didn't like people messing with their system.

Cassidy took a labored breath for what felt like the millionth time. Each time it was getting harder. His arms were pinned awkwardly above his head and to fill his lungs, he had to pull himself up. It quickly became exhausting.

The worst part was the cold. Montana had mentioned that this planet's average temperature was a little below what Cassidy was used to, but he didn't mention that the city they were infiltrating was located near the northern pole of the planet.

It was freezing.

Cassidy had long since stopped shivering.

He let his head loll forward. He wasn't sure he had the strength to wait for Montana anymore. He wasn't sure he had the strength for anything anymore. Even keeping his eyes open seemed a monumental task.

So, he let them fall shut.

••••

When he woke up, it was because he registered his center of gravity tilting on it's axis.

There was a body pressed against his. And it was warm.

If he had any remaining strength, he would have clung to his rescuer like there was no tomorrow. Instead, he settled for letting his head fall against the person's chest as he let out a pitiful whine.

A hand chafed up and down his shoulder. "Just relax. We'll get you warm. Don't you dare try to run off, Silver."

He wouldn't dream of it. Not when he could feel himself melting to putty in the arms of this stranger.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

LAST DRABBLE it's gene's turn. in this au he has spasthma (space asthma) and sometimes it hinders his job in Not good ways. and cassidy isn't heartless.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Cassidy really wasn't thinking when he threw the smoke bomb. All he knew was that the damned bounty hunter was catching up and he needed to throw him off.

He did not expect him to fall to his knees with a guttural coughing fit.

It would have been so easy to leave him there to rot, to hop in his ship and escape without looking back.

But when did Cassidy ever take the easy way out?

"Shit," He hissed, darting back to where Gene was kneeled with a palm supporting him on the ground.

He was clutching at his chest, choked gasps leaving him intermittently. His eyes looked vaguely panicked.

"C-Can't--" He wheezed, getting cut off by another coughing fit. He looked as if he was about to topple over.

Cassidy caught him by the arm and dragged him away from the busy street. He propped him up against an wall tucked into an alleyway and began rummaging around in his bag.

One of the younger kids with the Montana's crew had the same condition with all the same symptoms Gene was having right now. The kid was pretty forgetful, and Cassidy always made sure he had an extra rebreather on him. Just in case.

Gene was going to owe him big time.

His fingers finally grazed what he was looking for and he yanked it out, fumbling to get it open. He shook the small canister and pressed it to Gene's lips.

"You have to puff. Just try, okay? Just a little." Cassidy grabbed Gene's hand and placed it on his chest, exaggerating his own breathing to show him what to strive for.

Gene hiccuped slightly before taking a flimsy inhale. He breathed out and tried at it again, and found it gradually got easier.

When he could finally take a deep breath, he collapsed against the wall, panting. His hand didn't leave Cassidy's chest.

"Thank-- thank you," He whispered.

Cassidy smiled.

"Does this mean I get a headstart now?"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

SETH thank you SO VERY MUCH for this ask and this au. i think i may like it more than their original au GOD i love them so so so much FHDJKFH. thank u for the requests and as always PLS dont be afraif to send more if the mood striked you but no pressure ofc! /gen

hope you enjoy my rambling bc this post was LONGGGGG

#ask answered #oc questions #after the ww event and once gene and cassidy are more fleshed out and cemented. expect possible sci-fi ocs.#team whump edition #but thats not for a bit i'm too infatuated with my cowboys rn #i promise gene wasn't supposed to be THE mandalorian but it just kinda ended up sounding like that #i got the alcohol from wookiepedia #i am Not creative #slightly adult humor in drabble 1 #do i need to tag that? i dont want to make anyone uncomfy but. its an innuendo.#i think its fine.#did i ever mention that gene has asthma?? i decided while writing for the ww event #ANYWAYS seeing u in my askbox makes my heart so full seth THANK U SM

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skz317cb97 · 2 years

Text

A History of Pain

Part 3

Bang Chan X Female reader

Word count: 6.8K

Synopsis: You move back to Korea from America for good when you bomb at school, surprising not only your adoptive brother Minho but also his friends/roommates, who didn't know you existed. Your brother let's you stay with him and his band mates who have been threatened to stay away from you but Chan already has stars in his eyes for you. Issues from your past keep popping up forcing you to deal with your history or run from it all.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! This one is a bit longer do bear with me if it takes a little more time for part 4. Also be glad I didn't end it where I was originally planning 🤣😈

Part2👈 Part4👈

Warning's for this series: This story will have elements of death and flashbacks to abuse (mental, physical, and sexual) throughout. It will not be explicit or overly detailed, but it will be a vital part of the plot. If that is a topic that can be triggering or make you uncomfortable, I would suggest skipping this series! There will also be strong language/cursing, adult content, and sexual themes throughout but not in every part so I will be adding warnings for each part accordingly. If I ever miss something that should be in the warnings, PLEASE let me know and I will add it! This is an Idol AU so while they are in a group together it is not Stray Kids, hence no Jeongin and Seungmin and even though a company is mentioned it is not JYP. Just for clarification these are characters and not meant to portray the actual people in anyway.

Warnings for part 3: 18+only MDNI! Swearing and strong language. Mentions dying when giving birth a few times, nothing graphic, extreme mental/verbal abuse, mentions of child abuse, mentions of trafficking and other illegal activities, depictions of night terrors, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms!), oral (f receiving), fingering, cream pie, crying during sex (from pleasure), y/n's first time/virgin (kind of). I think that's everything for this part but let me know if I missed anything and I will add it asap!

Minho was not pleased about the picture in the paper, but he couldn’t really be mad at you or Chan, neither of you had done anything wrong. You had panicked and Chan had helped, that’s all. That camera man just took advantage of the situation. Minho knew you all had to be more careful though, people would be looking for the ‘mystery woman’ coming or going from the dorms. You started leaving for work first and never with any of the guys. Minho hoped staggering when you all left would confuse the photographers until they gave up. Your brother also told you to disguise yourself, put your hair up in a hat, wear baggy clothes or hoodies, anything that masked you being female. Luckily after two weeks of the dorm being steaked out by photographers they seemed to give up. There were a couple that lingered including the man that had gotten the initial photo, but even they gave up after a while. You still left before the guys most days just to be safe. After about a month, things seemed to calm down and the ‘mystery woman’ remained a mystery.

In that month you had impressed your bosses at the company with your ability to be so coordinated in their fast-paced work, your flexibility, and your ability to learn quickly. With the way you grew up you had to; those were keys to survival. You impressed them so much that they quickly hired you on full-time in the hair/make-up and wardrobe department. Now anywhere your brother and the guys went you would be right there too. You had grown closer with all the guys in that time. You looked out for each one in different ways and they looked out for you. In that time, you had grown especially close to Chan who you had taken to calling Chris.

Chan didn’t get called by his English name very often, so he liked hearing it come from your lips. Your soft pouty li-. Chan had to check himself constantly when it came to you it seemed like. The random thoughts that would pop in his head about you were intrusive, and he really did try to not think of you that way, but you were so beautiful, so kind and funny and the way you could get your brother to loosen up or blush telling some old story about him from when you were kids. You were good at getting people to open up like that, but Chan noticed getting you to open up about yourself was not just difficult, it was impossible.

You’d had a few more night terrors. A couple of times Chan would make it to you before Minho could even make it out of his room. Minho wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand he was glad there was someone there for you quickly but on the other he disliked seeing you two embrace when Chan would get you to come around. As much as he hated seeing it he never said anything. Chan and you, and the rest of the guys for that matter, had all made your promise so Minho trusted you. A promise between the two of you was never broken.

The next couple of months were supposed to be slammed for the guys and in turn, you. With a new album out they had TV appearances, showcase performances, MCing for Minho, and in a few months you all were getting on a plane and going to America for the first leg of their world tour. Minho loved having you around so much again. He’d missed you terribly when you were gone but he had buried that down of course, unwilling to burden you with his feelings. While he was happy to have you around, he was concerned about you going back to America. The last time you were there, your dad, he just didn’t want you getting hurt.

The more you spent time with Chan and really got to know him the more confused you were. You just never cared before, you never cared about kind eyes, or plump lips, or cute curly hair, so why him? Why now? Whatever it was Chan was the only person that could make you feel that way. All the other guys were attractive and kind. Hyunjin, just like Chan had told you, was the prettiest man you’d ever seen but you still didn’t feel the way you felt about Chan when you saw Hyunjin. You had to do something to try and stop it. You knew the best way to try and keep your feelings in check was to just stay away but it seemed no matter how hard you tried to keep a bit of distance between you and Chan the universe was against you, putting him directly in your path.

Margret had laid claim on you to assist only her whenever it was time for fittings or getting wardrobe ready for stage. More often than not she styled Chan, ergo more often than not you assisted in his styling. You tried to stay away, tried to not let that feeling in your heart grow but despite your resistance, one day you realized it had gotten bigger. You didn’t know if Chan felt the same way, part of you wanted to know, to find out, but you couldn’t even ask unless Minho allowed it. You decided to just be transparent to just ask. It was a couple of weeks before the tour when you worked up the nerve to finally ask your brother about it. You approached the topic carefully.

“Hey Minnie?” Minho was already suspicious by the use of that particular nick name.

“Yes?” You walked up to him and leaned against the counter while he finished the dishes he was doing when you decided to corner him in the kitchen.

“Well, see I have a question.” He nodded, staring at the soapy cup in his hands.

“Go ahead...” You wrung your hands nervously.

“Well, it’s about the promise you made me make?” His eyes narrowed at you.

“Yessss...” You chewed at your lips by the tone of his voice alone you could tell this was not going well already.

“Yea so, I’ve gotten really close with all the guys over the last few months, you know they’re just great, and well Chris and I...” Minho put up a hand and stopped you.

“There is no Chris and you. You can be friends, but you made me a promise, no dating any of the guys, that includes Chan.” You swallowed down your disappointment and that feeling that had grown in your heart morphed into pain. You didn’t think he was going to go for the idea with arms wide open, but you thought he’d at least hear you out before shooting you down. It’s not like you to act like some love-struck teenager. You thought he might take you seriously since you’ve never dated in the past, but he wasn’t having any of it.

You nodded and walked off not having anything else to say. There was no use arguing with Minho, you had in fact made the promise and that was that, a promise between the two of you might as well be written in blood. As you were walking out of the kitchen Chan was heading towards it, you passed him in the hall and he gently grabbed your hand to stop you, he hadn’t seen you most of the day.

“Hey...” He said as you pulled your hand away, you didn’t look him in the eyes. You couldn’t right then, not after what Minho just told you. You hadn’t even got a chance to process the emotions you were feeling. You were overwhelmed.

“Uh... hey...” You managed to finally choke out. Chan frowned a little. You seemed upset about something.

“Everything okay?” You nodded still staring at your shoes.

“Yea. I’m just... I don’t feel good. I think I’m gonna lay down for a bit.” The crease in Chan’s forehead deepened.

“Let me know if you need anything. Hopefully you’ll feel better after a rest.” You pressed your lips together and gave him a halfhearted smile before turning and heading back towards the bedrooms. You did take a nap but only after you let a few tears fall for the question you could never know the answer to. Chan walked into the kitchen where Minho still was. He hiked his thumb back towards the hall where he’d just seen you.

“I just passed y/n on the way in here, she looked... sad. You think she’s okay?” Minho felt bad, but a little sad now was better than heartbroken later.

“She’s fine, you focus on more important things, like the next performance we have coming up and let me worry about my sister.” Chan grabbed a juice and put up his hands in defense.

“Sheesh okay I was just asking.” Chan went back to his room to finish what he was working on, discouraged. Minho seemed hell bent on keeping you and him apart. He stopped before walking into his room and looked at your door across from his, like he did every time you were in there. His heart raced, he wanted to go in there and hold you and tell you whatever you were sad about, he would make better, somehow, he just wanted to make you happy. Instead he opened his own door and went back to work.

Being so busy with all the events leading up to the tour, it seemed like the days flew by you had done everything to avoid Chan during that time, it wasn’t his fault, but it was just too hard to be around him right then. Before you knew it, it was time for you all to head to America. Once you touched down there wasn’t much time to dwell on the past, or your feelings for Chan. You were all bouncing from one city to the next every other day. Things were running like a well-oiled machine and that should have been your first sign that shit was about to hit the fan. Nothing ever went that smoothly in your life.

The guys had done four of their scheduled performances, no problems and then they were asked if they would make an appearance at a very exclusive club. They felt honored to even be invited and agreed to make time for a small performance. It wasn’t a big place but somehow you had managed to get cut off from the guys and started looking for them. You had ventured away from the stage area looking for your brother, Chan, anyone really. You were checking around the bar and it was obvious this was meant to be a pretty intimate event, VIP only. You kept scanning, looking for Minho or one of the guys, and then...

At first you thought there was no way you saw who you thought you saw. You made your way from your side of the bar to get a better look and sure enough it was him. Your dad, George. How the hell had he gotten in there? What was he doing there? Was he there because he knew Minho was there or because you were there? Then as if he felt you looking at him George turned and made eye contact with you. God, he looked like shit, even worse than the time you’d seen him before and nothing like the man that, for whatever reason, you had idolized as a child. He started walking towards you and you froze, you didn’t know what to do or say. Did he recognize you now?

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” You almost threw up in your mouth. Clearly, no, he still did not realize who you were. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him.

“I would rather chew glass...” You turned to walk away and he grabbed your elbow, much harder than necessary.

“Listen you little bitch...” You tried to pull your arm back and narrowed your eyes at him. He took a step towards you, his grip tightening. Then suddenly Minho was at your side and George let go. Minho had seen some creep was bothering you from where he was by the stage, where he’d been looking for you. He immediately headed in your direction before George had even laid a finger on you, before Minho realized who the creep was.

“Y/N hey, are you okay?” He looked up at the jerk bothering you ready to tell him off and as soon as Minho saw his face, he knew who he was. Realization was hitting George too. He of course immediately recognized Minho and he walked up and called you Y/N so that could only mean one thing. Chan came walking up now completely clueless to the shit that was about to hit the fan. He had just seen the man grab you, then he hadn’t even thought, he just started making his way over to you.

“Ahaha. I should have known. Jesus, fuck you look just like her...” That almost sounded like a compliment from George.

“You killed her and then you grew up to look just like her. What a cruel fucking joke the world plays on people. Just stick it in and break it off. Holy shit.” Ah no there was the George you knew. Your shoulders slumped and Minho and Chan both stiffened up. Chan didn’t know who the guy was, but he knew if he didn’t watch the way he talked to you there was going to be problems and not just with Minho.

“You should watch your mouth.” Minho glared at George and George laughed.

“Little Lee Minho. I’ll get to you in a moment, we have business to discuss. First, I want to finish this little talk between me and my daughter.” Chan’s face fell in shock. This disgusting man was your dad?!

“There’s some things I’ve waited many a year to say to you.” You shook your head.

“I don’t suppose any of those things are sorry.” George laughed out.

“Sorry?! For what?! For ever putting you in your mother? Yea I’m sorry for that! For taking you from the hospital after you killed her? I’m sorry for that!” Tears were welling up in your eyes. You had always held on to the guilt of your mother dying while bringing you into the world, and George loved to play on that guilt just like he was now.

“I’m serious George shut the fuck up.” Minho spoke through his gritted teeth; his ears and neck red. Chan was on the verge of total combustion.

“Little Lee, me and you have some money to talk about.” Minho’s face contorted.

“What money? What the hell are you talking about?” George laughed; it was a creepy unsettling laugh.

“It’s the money you’re going to give me so I don’t go to the media with Y/N’s life story. I’m sure they would be very interested to know how it came to be that she was adopted by your parents. American girl being sold in a South Korean back ally and all.” Chan could not believe what he was hearing. Minho had told him countless times you’d had a hard life but never...never had he imagined.

“You stupid jackass you were the one selling her! To an undercover cop no less and got busted. That’s how she ended up with us!” Chan was in utter shock; this had been your life?! Knowing you now, you were gentle, kind, you had so much patience even with difficult people, no wonder. Jesus Christ your dad was a special kind of monster, and all Chan could think was despite George, you still turned out so amazing. George nodded in agreement with Minho’s observation.

“Yes, I was, and that may come out eventually but not before you and your parents’ names are dragged through the mud. Are you willing to take that risk?” Minho squared up with George. He wasn’t worried about himself but now George was not only threatening you but your parents also.

“Fucking TRY me Georgie. Really!” Minho’s voice was raised and he took another step towards him. People started looking over at you. You put your hand on his shoulder trying to calm him down.

“Min, don’t he’s trying to rile you up. He wants to start a fight, just get security.” George turned back to lay into you again. His favorite punching bag.

“I told your mother, I told her. When she found out she was pregnant with you, and she started getting sick and I TOLD her to get rid of you. That something was wrong with you, that you were gonna suck the life out of her, but she was so excited to have a baby, a daughter. ‘She’s a piece of both of us, she’ll be so special’” George said mockingly

“So, I gave in and then you did exactly what I told her you would. She gave you life and you sucked hers straight from her in the same moment. You aren’t special. You were born a life sucking little leech and that’s all you’ll ever be.” Just because you already knew how George felt about you didn’t mean the words didn’t still hurt. He was your dad after all. Tears ran down your face and Chan had had enough. He was about to snatch your dad by his shirt and turn him into an actual punching bag when the guys’ manager and security swooped in.

“What’s going on here?” Chan took a step back and tried to calm his racing heart, taking deep breaths.

“This asshole is threating my sister and me, get him the fuck out of here.” Security started to grab George by the arms and physically remove him. As they dragged him away, he hollered back.

“It’s a pay day either way for me. Think about it!” When George was gone the guys’ manager turned to you all.

“Backstage now! That’s where you should be and none of this would be happening!” You all started to head towards the stage area. Minho with his arm around you trying to calm you down. When you got backstage, he sat you down and Chan gave you some privacy to talk about what happened, just between family, while he processed the information he had just learned about your past. Minho crouched down in front of you, a hand on each side of your face.

“Fuck that asshole! You know none of what he said is true, don’t let him get into your head.” You cried and shook out of Minho’s hold on you.

“He’s always been in my head Minho! He never left! The nightmares, the isolation, the self-sabotage. It’s just him in my head keeping me where I meant to be, where I was supposed to be all along. I killed my mom just like he said, I leeched the life right out of her and now I’m doing the same to you, to mom and dad, to Chan and the guys. I don’t belong here; I don’t belong with you all.” Minho shook his head at every word that came out of your mouth.

“No no no! You’re wrong! You are my sister and I love you; mom and dad love you, the guys they don’t remember what it was like to function without you now. You leech nothing from anyone, do you hear me!? You give, God damn it you give so much. Even to garbage like George, who doesn’t deserve it. Your mom knew Y/N, even George just said it, she knew you were special. She knew what she was doing, she knew there was a risk. She chose you Y/N. She might not have ever gotten to meet you but no doubt in my mind she was one hundred percent right. You are so special, and you are such an important part of mine and everyone else’s life.” You threw your arms around your brother’s neck and sobbed.

“I just wish he would’ve been my dad! I wish we could have grieved for her together as I grew up! I feel so cheated out of so much because of him Minho!” He held you, rubbing your back.

“I know. It isn’t fair, it isn’t and I’m so sorry that’s what your life was like for so long. I knew from the moment you came to our house, I knew then it was MY job, to keep you safe and protect you now and I always have, well, I’ve always tried. I just hope you know; you’ve always been my sister and you always will be.” You wanted to tell Minho that if you could make up your own big brother and choose all the things about him you would still just choose Minho but before the words could leave your mouth Chan and the group manager were calling Minho over. The manager had filled Chan in on why he’d been looking for you all in the first place.

“Sit here, drink some water, try and relax I’ll be right back.” You nodded and Minho ran over to the two men. They all exchanged a few words, the two of them catching him up to speed and then Minho was visibly upset.

“What the hell! We’re in America right now, he didn’t think to tell them I couldn’t host this month?!” You could see Chan trying to calm Minho back down glancing over at you and giving you a tight smile. It seemed, from what you could pick up of their conversation, that the show your brother occasionally MCed for had him scheduled and it looked like they were going to make him go back to Seoul to make the appearance.

“Alright fine I’ll go, let me talk to my sister first. Damn!” Minho walked over to you trying to calm himself back down to speak to you. He knelt in front of you and was glad to see you had drank part of the bottle of water and were a little calmer now.

“So I guess that I have to...” You nodded.

“MC. I heard, so they’re making us all pack up and go back to Seoul just for one show?” Minho shook his head.

“No only I'm going back. Look if I ask the right people, I might be able to get it so you can come with me, it’ll be a long shot bu...” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion Minho noticed you weren’t following.

“I mean so you don’t have to stay here without me.”

“Minho I lived here for four years without you I think I can handle four days.” He pressed his lips together tightly.

“But your da-George? He well I’m just trying... I’m trying-” You saved your brother from himself.

“You’re trying to protect me I know.” You kissed his cheek.

“I’ll be fine Minho. I’ll make sure security or the guys are always with me and I’ll text you constantly, okay?” Minho gave in nodding.

“When do you have to leave?” He pushed his hair back out of his face still visibly stressed.

“Like now. They’re gonna run me to the hotel to grab some stuff and then straight to the airport. If you need anything while I’m in the air...” You both stood up and you patted your brother on the chest.

“I’ll let you know Min but really I’ll be okay.” He hugged you.

“I know, it just feels wrong leaving you alone after running into George.” You squeezed him back.

“I won’t be alone Min.” He knew that, what he really meant was without him. You wrapped your arms around him.

“I love you, please be safe.” Minho nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll see you in four days. Promise.” You smiled up at him, then Minho and their manager headed out. Chan walked over after they left to see if you were really okay. He would understand if you weren’t after all that stuff your dad had just screamed at you.

“Hey uh, so, are you alright?” Right then you remembered that Chan had heard everything your dad had said about you. You internally cringed and tried to act like you were fine.

“Oh yea I’m good.” You changed the subject quickly.

“Are you guys performing without Min or...” Chan shook his head.

“No this thing is cancelled and we’re taking a small break until your brother comes back.” You nodded along absentmindedly, staring out into nothing.

“Do you...” Chan’s voice suddenly snapped you back into the real world.

“Do you wanna ride back to the hotel with us now?” You nodded quickly and Chan let you lead the way to the van you all were chauffeured around in. The rest of the guys were already piled in and just as soon as you and Chan sat down next to each other and buckled up you were all off. Once you got to the hotel you all broke off to your respective rooms. It was getting late and you were for sure crashing, after a nice hot shower of course. You had to wash off any residual trace of George. You washed up relatively quickly but stood under the stream of hot water for what seemed like forever.

You were debating on getting out yet or not when you thought you heard knocking at your door. You quickly turned the water off and listened. Another knock at your door. You got out, dried off halfway, and threw on the plush white robe that all hotels leave guests. You grabbed your phone to see if you had any missed calls or texts but there were none. You jumped and gasped when the knocking started again as you were walking towards the door. You looked out the peephole and saw Chan just turning to leave. You hurried to unlock the door and stop him.

“Chan?” He turned around surprised and speechless seeing you there, he didn’t think you’d answer but there you were. Your hair wet, in a robe, that sweet look on your face. It made him feel warm all over when you looked at him like that.

“W-what are you doing here?” Chan had clearly come after getting ready for bed, he stood there in his signature black sleeveless shirt and black basketball shorts, hair freshly washed and curly. He was snapped out of his daze by your question.

“Oh! I just wanted to make sure you were really okay after everything tonight and to see if you needed anything.” You smiled at him.

“I’m... well... I...” You weren’t sure what to say, you were okay, but you weren’t. You were calm and feeling okay right then but there was no telling the kind of nightmares you’d have after the run in with your dad. You knew it was a dangerous game you were about to play but you really didn’t want to be alone.

“Do you mind coming in and staying a little while with me? You can leave when I fall asleep.” Chan’s heart melted and raced at the same time. His stomach was in his throat almost making it impossible to speak, he shook his head. You moved out of the doorway and let him walk in, closing the door behind the two of you. You walked into where your bed was and you both stood there awkward and nervous until you spoke.

“I-if this is weird or whatever you don’-” Chan shook his head quickly.

“NO. I mean no. It’s not weird, I just wasn’t sure what side you were laying on. Go ahead, I’ll stay. I don’t mind.” You got curled up in bed in your big fluffy bathrobe and pulled the blanket over you. Chan walked around and sat on the opposite side. His heart was so full seeing you there cozy ready for sleep to pull you under. He wanted to hold you in his arms until you fell asleep. You both chit chatted for a little while which helped relax the atmosphere again, all the while Chan was getting more and more comfortable, moving from sitting, to leaning against the headboard to laying on his side with his head propped up looking at you, finally laying on his back his fingers threaded together behind his head as he stared at the ceiling above the two of you. Your breaths had started to come out long and slow, Chan thought you had fallen asleep, his own eyes feeling heavy and then you spoke.

“Chris?” Chan hummed acknowledging hearing you. God you really just wanted to ask him to hold you, you wanted to tell him that you loved him. ‘I love you...’ but then you thought about the promise you made.

“Never mind.” You nuzzled into your pillow more, your heart ached while you drifted off to sleep. It wasn’t too long after you dozed off that Chan had also fallen asleep, face up, lightly snoring. In the middle of the night you started getting restless. Your legs fidgeting and your hands gripping at the sheets. Your breathing started to come out fast and sharp like someone was chasing you. Chan woke up just as you started pleading with whoever your attacker was in your dream. Chan tried to wake you but it was always hard to wake you when you were having a night terror.

“y/n, wake up, hey come on now wake up!” You finally opened your eyes and shot straight up in bed gripping onto Chan. You threw your arms around his shoulders. You were shaking and crying.

“It was just a nightmare, it’s not real, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” You sobbed; your face pressed into his shirt.

“It’s not a nightmare if it happened, it’s a memory and you can’t save me from my own memories Chris.” He just held onto you tighter until you had cried yourself out. When you sat up you ran the back of your hands across your cheeks wiping away the residual tears. Chan’s hand came up and his thumb grazed your cheek, wiping another tear away.

“I wish I could save you from your memories, I wish I could take away the pain you’ve endured.” He pushed your hair away from your face, his deep brown eyes looking into you as he cradled your jaw. The air between the two of you suddenly changed. There was this heat building. It had always been there but now it was reaching a crescendo. You were two charges of energy that needed to connect or else it would blow taking the both of you with it. Chan opened his mouth.

“Can I k...” Your lips were suddenly pressed against his. You didn’t even listen to what he had been asking, you just knew in that moment if you didn’t kiss him you would explode. His lips were just as soft as they looked. You pulled away and looked at him with the fear of his rejection welling in your eyes. He put your fears to rest quickly and kissed you again. Your lips parted and his plump bottom lip slotted between yours and you could finally taste him, god he tasted so good. Then his tongue slid into your mouth and his teeth pulled at your bottom lip and you could feel yourself getting wet. His hands roamed your body over the robe you were wearing.

“y/n? Do you have pajamas on under this.” Chan’s words were just over a whisper as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing the opening of your bathrobe, taking in how gorgeous you were there under him, somewhere he never even allowed himself to dream of having you. You bit at your bottom lip and shook your head no. You only had taken the time to put a pair of panties on before grabbing your robe when he had knocked. Chan’s next words were between breaths of desperation while he started to kiss down your neck.

“Can... can I touch you...” God there was nothing more in this world that you wanted at that very moment than for Chan to touch you, to keep kissing you, but your promise to Minho kept itching in the back of your brain. Chan’s lips pressed the gentlest kisses to the pulse point of your neck making you yearn for more, you had played this dangerous game and played yourself. You couldn’t resist it anymore; you couldn’t resist Chan anymore, promise be damned.

“Please... please touch me Chris.” His hand slid into your robe and squeezed one of your breasts before pinching your nipple. It felt like every touch from him was charged with electricity.

“More Chris, please.” He nodded but still proceeded to grope you while he slowly kissed and nibbled at your neck.

“Patience baby girl let me make you feel good, let me take my time, fuck I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted you for so long.” His words made you moan and arch up into his touch. You were trying to be patient, but you just needed to feel more of him, for him to feel more of you. Your patience paid off when he pushed open your robe and his soft lips wrapped around one of your nipples. God your body was on fire and your core throbbed as your fingers gently gripped his curls.

You pulled open your robe the rest of the way, sliding your arms out and Chan attached his warm mouth to your other nipple, gently biting making it harden before sucking on it again. Chan pulled away hovering over you again and, fuck, you were breathtaking. Panting, flushed with desire, desire for him, laying there in just your panties waiting for him to devour you.

He sat up on his knees and stripped his shirt off, the chest and abs you’d seen as you helped Margret dress him countless times, now were within your touch. You couldn’t help but trace your fingers down the lines of his body, down his abs, across his adonis belt, before toying with the waist band of his basketball shorts. Goosebumps had risen all over Chan’s skin and he got harder the further down his body your fingers traced. You could see the tent forming in his shorts and then suddenly you realized you were in way over your head. You had never done anything like this before, so you would’ve reached into his shorts and then what would you have done huh? You had no idea. You pulled your hand away and Chan could instantly tell something was off.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I just... it felt so good, and kissing you and then you were touching me I just... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’ll go away... we don’t ha-” You shook your head and pulled Chan down into another soft kiss.

“You didn’t Chris really! I want you to kiss and touch me, I want to touch you I’ve just... well I've never...” Chan’s eyes went wide with the realization of what you were trying to say.

“Well not never, I mean I have... well you know, myself, but never... what I mean to say is not with...” Chan understood. He kissed your cheek and you closed your eyes at the sensation of his lips on you again.

“We can take things slow baby; you just tell me what you want.” You chewed at your lips nodding as Chan’s mouth started to pepper kisses down your neck and chest. He kept going, placing a kiss above your navel then below. He teased the elastic of your panties and looked up at you.

“Is this okay? Can I take these off?” Your chest rose and fell faster and faster. You shook your head.

“Yes.” Your answer came out in a breath.

“You’re sure? If you don’t-”

“I want you to Chris, I do, please don’t stop.” He pulled your panties down and left a trail of soft kisses down your thighs. He pulled them off and then looked at you laying there. Every time he looked down at you he didn’t think he could see anything as beautiful.

“I really want to eat you out baby, would that be okay?” You squirmed as he ran his hands gently up and down your legs. You nodded and spread your legs further for him. You laid your head back and covered your eyes with your hands embarrassed as Chan leaned down. He slowly ran his tongue through your folds then he puckered his pouty lips and proceeded to softly make out with your clit. You let out a little gasp at the new but welcome sensation and you fought the urge to grind your hips.

“C-Chris, that... that feels really good. Please... please don’t stop.” You were panting, getting words out in between breaths. If it was making you feel good there was no way in hell he was stopping. Your fingers found his curls and held on as he continued to kiss, lick and suck on you, pushing you closer and closer to your climax. You struggled to get your next words to form instead of moans.

“Fuck mmm fin-fuck! Fingers p-please fingers.” He collected some of his spit and your juices and slid two of his fingers inside you.

“YES! Oh my god Chris yes keep going.” He would go as long as you were screaming his name like that. He focused on hitting all the right spots at the same time and then your back arched up off the bed as you came on his tongue and fingers.

“Ffuck, Chriss, fu-Mmm I’m comingmm...” He gently licked at you until you started to shake from the overwhelming sensation buzzing through your entire body. Chan climbed up next to you and ran his fingertips up and down your skin as he watched your blissed out face relax more and more until you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.

“God you’re so beautiful y/n. So beautiful.” He placed soft kisses all over your face then you pushed at his shorts wanting more, needing more.

“Chris please want you inside me please.” He kissed you, ran his thumb across your cheek, and nodded. Chris pushed his shorts off and hooked your legs around his waist. You looked down between you and watched Chan start pushing his cock inside you. The feeling was so much better than anything you had used yourself. The warmth of his body when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You moaned out and Chan froze trying and pretty much failing to get a hold of himself. You unintentionally clenched around him and Chan thought he was done for.

“Oooh baby girl try not to do that, fuck, it feels TOO good.” When Chan did finally get his wits back he slowly started to move. You wrapped your arms and legs around him pulling him close. He held you as he rocked his hips back and forth, his head buried in the crook of your neck, his warm soft pants fanning across your neck as he pushed deeper and deeper. Your breaths were also coming out more labored, tears welling in your eyes as you were overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure. Chan lifted his head and saw your tears, he swiped one away with his thumb and held your cheek, looking into your eyes as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“I love you Chris.” Chan closed his eyes and bit his lip then leaned down and kissed you before whispering against your lips.

“I love you too y/n.” You pulled him close again as you felt your impending orgasm approaching.

“Please please Ch-Chris p-please.” He moaned at your pleas for him.

“Please what baby, please what, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” You ran your fingers through his curls holding him close as his hips rolled.

“I’m- pl- cum again... I-I'm gonna c-cum again, please please make me cum!” The motion of Chan’s hips and his whole body rubbing against yours made you explode. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream of Chan’s name. When you caught your breath all you could do was say Chan’s name as he kept moving chasing his own release now.

“Ch-Chris, fuck Chris, Chriss...” Hearing you say his name over and over as you squeezed around him pushed Chan over the edge and he came buried deep inside you. Chan fell next to you in bed and tried to catch his breath. Just as soon as he’d caught his breath he remembered your tears, he propped himself up and pushed some sweaty hair away from your face.

“You okay?” You nodded. You were, you really were. That was until clarity hit you and you remembered the promise you’d made to your brother. The promise you had most definitely just broken. You looked at Chan worried.

“What? What is it?” You shook your head.

“Minho is gonna kill us.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @3rachasninja

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #chan smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤

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cheswirls · 4 months

Text

early op/dc au fic plot points

in honor of finding my notes finally after five months have passed since writing them and after i just wrote out a huge block of what happens during part one of the fic relying entirely on memory and wit alone, here are some freebie things-that-will-definitely-happen (and just random Things to throw in between) to think over while i'm trying to get back into writing this fic

also tagging @kiteou who created jason/sabo and 100% inspired this verse (please look at their ship art it's all so impeccably goooood)

sabo wears make-up to cover his scar when he goes crime fighting and chooses to hunt criminals in a distant district of gotham to avoid being recognized since he doesn't wear a mask

though he doesn't weak a mask, he does adorn a large tophat with a wide brim and uses the shade to conceal his face from view; when he runs into jason and snarls about a hero not posibly wearing a fucking full-face helmet mask, jason argues back about protecting his identity and accuses sabo of being a hypocrite since his hat also hides his face

jason quotes old literature sabo has never heard of when he's trying to make the most of a situation (so rarely) and sabo scribbles illegible-chicken-scratch words in tattered notebooks when he needs to vent about Life in general (it's maybe his goal at some point to create an autobiography of life in gotham and how much It Sucks, Bad™)

sabo using a metal pipe as his choice weapon reminds jason of damian (he's in his bo staff days) in kind of a fond but wary way - this does not last; at some point the pipe scraping against concrete or brick sets jason off, triggering something in his subconsciousness bad enough to make him lose focus in a fight, and it gets to the point where he tells sabo they can't fight together anymore if he's gonna continue to use the pipe as a weapon

ace and sabo are 19 in the beginning because it takes place in fall, and jason is newly 20 - because of this, sabo is 5'9 and ace 6'0 but sabo wears platform and heeled (the heel is inside so it's not visible) boots when he plays vigilante so he's taller than jason by a couple inches; at some point when ace meets jason he implicates sabo's true height and sabo shouts at him (shut the fuck up, ace!) before ace can finish; even later on, sabo ends up at jason's apartment and when his shoes come off, he stands shorter than jason, much to jason's surprise; sabo admits gruffly that being over six foot makes a person more intimidating, which is his goal at night when facing off with criminals, but also insists that he's still growing (which he is, and eventually he doesn't need the boots to stand at 6'2 properly); even though ace is (barely) taller than sabo (just like he's barely older than sabo), he's still shorter than jason, which rubs him the wrong way (and sets off the comment about sabo's alleged height)

while ace is just trying to survive in gotham, owing nothing to the city that's chewed them both up in childhood and spit them back out again in adolescence, sabo chooses vigilantism in a bid to 'just do what's right, or at least try to'

^ going with this, ace and sabo both have awakened meta-genes that grant them fire powers; ace got his first and is proficient in using his powers - in contrast, sabo develops his after his accident that leaves a portion of his upper body scarred, and refuses to train or even try and control/subdue his powers at all due to his intense fear of fire; this causes daily strife because ace should be able to coach sabo through developing (or at the very least, getting under control) his powers so they don't cause accidents all the time, being the more experienced and honed of the two, but because he's never willing to overstep and always afraid of reigniting sabo's trauma, he never pushes sabo toward what should be the reasonable solution

aaaaaaaa smth smth jason being more experienced in relationships but none of them ever going well, versus sabo who's never been in love and doesn't know how to act, doesn't know how to be vulnerable in front of another person (who's not ace, but even then) or what's considered normal for their relationship status, and eventually having to tell all of this to jason to dispel some worries threatening to make him sick; jason tries his best to insist that sabo doesn't need to act a specific or certain way and that they were going to figure this out together and find what worked for them; in the beginning their "romantic" relationship is super dysfunctional and not much different from their status before when they were just friends, but it slowly becomes more functional when they start to clue in to what they and each other want out of this

i CANNOT find my notes which makes me sick (< actually i did!!! not long after i wrote this which makes me SO mad in hindsight) but in this verse jason runs around with roy harper and artemis crock, who are roughly the same age as him and sabo but have the dynamic they do in earth-16 when they're (sibling) in-laws, meaning, they get along like a tight pair and often will team up to lovingly tease jason whenever the opportunity present itself; when they're introduced to sabo, the initial reaction is them recounting ('oh so this is the boy you're always mentioning') various things jason has said about him and then low-key embarrassing the both of them with their teasing, so it takes a bit for sabo to warm up to them

after sabo is burned by a lighter and his make-up runs, jason believes his old face scars to be part of the fresh injury and rushes sabo to leslie's clinic to get seen; sabo is bandaged up and none of the staff ask questions about the vigilantism that would (tie him w illegal activity) but in the beginning when someone asks sabo a basic question in regards to the injury, sabo clams up; jason has to snap at him that (leslie) was a doctor and not the fucking cops, so would sabo please put an ounce of trust in someone for once and let them take care of him; sabo relents and lets himself be treated

when he arrives home with his eye covered, ace is shocked because sabo never lets anyone but ace bandage him up; ace asks what (the fuck) happened and sabo clams up, flinches back when ace tries to reach for the wrap, and snaps at him to leave it because an actual medical professional treated him for once; ace says smth like 'but you always let me patch you up' and sabo appeases him by saying he can redress the wound later when it needed changing, but right now, he wants it left alone; later ace gets to see the damage and immediately realizes sabo got burned which terrifies him, putting sabo's shying away from him earlier into a new light, and ace takes on a new perspective when he helps sabo tend to the injury in order to frighten sabo as little as possible

sabo lives with ace and rouge until zero year, when their apartment floods and rouge gets sick and eventually dies in the hospital without proper medical care; without rouge, neither of them go back to the house in coventry and instead spend most of the remainder of zero year in a church - despite spending a good portion of their upbringing from that point on around clergymen, sabo refuses to believe in a god that would let him and ace to suffer through life to the extent that they had, and when ace curses 'god damn' or 'oh god' sabo isn't even willing to humor it, always blunting insisting 'there is no god' that ace in turn always counters with 'it's an expression, sabo, it doesn't have to mean anything'

aaaaaaaand since i've been sitting on this intro for a good six months now here's a small actual written pv :)

(if tumblr blurs the ss just click on it and it'll clear up)

#op #dc #writing #little longer than intended but this is maybe 10% of the beginning so its fiiiiiine #idk how many yrs this fic is gonna span thru but tbh #i dont see either falling for e/o quickly or even in a normal amnt of time #its not slowburn but their relationship progression is slow af #somewhere in their twenties at least so sabo can cash in on the height diff bc its cute af to look at #anyway the last dc comic run i read in full was the dark knights of steel series....... DOES IT SHOW AAAAA #for anyone expecting this to be all one standardized timeline that makes sense: gonna disappoint you right now #do not set your expectations high bc dc verse has always been a mess n its not my job to sort thru it to write au fic #ig this is loosely post-2011 continuity (w/e earth number that is)#but also no its not bc there are elements from so many other things #im gonna regret shoving this one into the ao3 dc comics tag but in true xover ship fashion i will be doing so regardless #anyway x2 if any of this appeals to you PLSSSSS go look at kiteous art its so so sosososo good

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sorrowfulrosebud · 2 years

Note

What would Keiko be as an teenager? Would he still just want to be home with his family?

Damn, mama lore?? This got fucking long dude 😭

Definitely, Keiko is still very shy even as a teenager. He grows a bit of a thicker skin but he’s still very shy and dependent on his siblings. He grew a fuck ton though, and now at the ripe age of 16 he towers over his siblings.

==================================

“H-hey Akira, do you wanna go to the market with me and mama? You’d have to wear your hat to avoid your ears being seen but it’s still a trip outside the house!” Keiko’s tail wiggled in his excitement. Market day was his favourite day because it meant that he could poke around the cozy human village with his favourite people in the world; his mother and father.

Akira grimaced slightly at his brother’s excitement. “Sorry little bro, me, Aika and Kokoro were gonna explore around the well we found the other day. You’re welcome to come if you want,” he offered, already knowing the answer.

Keiko hurriedly shook his head. He was frightened of dirty places like that, so dark and scary and he doesn’t like the idea that something could be watching him. Akira sighed at his brother.

“Well the offer’s there. Have a fun time at market, and ask ma to pick me up some blankets please. My mate has been driving me crazy about scenting stuff,” he huffed slightly before giving Keiko a half-smile. He waved him goodbye as he joined his sisters outside in the snow, loud crunches sounding off under his feet. Each one of your children were wrapped up carefully, pointy ears bundled under hats and fluffy tails shoved up the back of shirts in case hunters saw them.

Keiko looked at his brothers and sisters with jealousy pooling in his tummy. He wanted to be like them so bad, but he was just easily frightened and that often made them irritated. Aika and Akira would never admit it out loud but would constantly huff at Keiko’s cowardice. Kokoro however was pretty fucking mean to him, constantly teasing and pulling on his tail to spook him.

Keiko felt an arm gently grasp at his shoulder and turned his head to see your soft smile.

“Hiya bubs, are you ready to go,” you fluffed the hair between his ears as his tail started wagging. Katsuki walked up behind you and kissed your cheek before stuffing his ears into his hat.

(He asked you to crochet them specifically for all of the pack, each with the same pattern but different colours. Katsuki’s was orange, Akita’s was red, Aika’s was a dusty pink, Kokoro’s was purple and Keiko’s was green).

Katsuki shuffled forward to his son as he helped readjust Keiko’s hat.

“Ain’t no way in hell I’m letting us get caught by those damn hunters. It’s a good thing it’s winter so people won’t question the hats but we still have to be careful,” Katsuki lectured gruffly. Keiko smiled widely at his father with pure adoration, tail going a million miles per hour at his own brand of affection.

“I know papa, I’ll be careful! I promise!” He smiled and took the basket for groceries in his arm. Katsuki let off his own crooked smile at his son’s excitement. To Katsuki, it was nice to see Keiko be so close to you and him, but it was so sad to see his siblings cast him off so easily. He would never throw him out of the pack but sometimes he wonders if Keiko would have been thrown out of his old pack. He was more human than wolf, cuddly and soft. Not like a wolf at all.

“Come on then, those groceries aren’t going to buy themselves!” You clapped your hands together and slipped your arm into Katsuki’s. Keiko stood on your other side and did the same to you before you started the trek to the next village for the market.

==================================

“Hmm, Katsuki? What do you think of these tomatoes?” You offered them to your husband for him to smell for the freshness. Katsuki complied, sharp sense of smell telling him that they were absolutely fucking disgusting.

“Ew, what the hell?! It should be illegal to buy stock so bad!” Katsuki growled at the shop keeper, effectively scaring the shit out of him and grinning at the results.

You nudge him slightly and gave him a pointed look.

“Ugh, fine. Those ones over there smell good,” he sighed noisily. Keiko giggled slightly at his father’s antics, arm still slipped into yours.

“Don’t forget that Akira wants some blankets for his mate mama! Kokoro wants some of that fancy spiced meat and Aika wants some of that soft wool you bought last market trip,” he recited from the list.

A proud smile overtook your features as you squeezed his arm gently.

“You’re such a good little brother Keiko. Is there anything you want hun?” You asked him. Keiko thought for a second before his face lit up.

“A new stuffy please!” He smiled excitedly. No matter how old he gets, he will always be your little pup.

“Alright pup, here’s a few silver pieces. Go and find the blankets, wool and stuffies whilst me and your father look at the produce,” you gently nudged him away as Katsuki started shouting at a stall keeper for his “steep shitty prices!”

Keiko looked deeply at the 20 silver pieces in his hand before clutching them tightly and wandering around the market. Hundreds of stalls surrounded him, each smelling of something new and exciting. Spiced meats, exotic herbs, fresh vegetables all bombarded Keiko’s sensitive nose before he stopped at a market stall selling cheap blankets for 10 silver pieces each.

The blanket was a gorgeous maroon colour, almost as deep as his father’s and brother’s eyes. Keiko smiled widely at the stall keeper as he eagerly thrusted 10 pieces of silver into his hand.

Akira’s mate is going to love this! He thought gleefully.

He stopped at another stall that was selling the specific meat that Kokoro was craving. It was 3 silver pieces per joint and Keiko happily handed over the money.

He bought some spools of soft wool for Aika to continue crafting with before stopping at another stall selling small trinkets.

It was like a crow’s best dream; shiny things scattered all over the purple tablecloth, such as little keys, cogs, odds and sods. What really got Keiko interested was the small music box in the middle of the table. In it, a delicate tune was tinting the air as two little figures danced gracefully. It reminded him perfectly of his mama and papa dancing together.

Keiko’s eyes shone in amazement as he looked up at the gnarled old stall owner. The store owner had clearly lived a long or very troubled life; forehead wrinkles the size of rivers ran deeply across his forehead, laughter lines and accompanying them. His thick black hair was tied up tightly in a bun, the occasional silver streak glinting in the winter sun. Tired hands whittled away at small chunks of wood before placing them carefully on the trove of treasures.

“E-excuse me sir? How much for the music box?” He asked politely. The stall keeper stared up at him for a minute before looking back down at his work.

“Isn’t it a little too dangerous for your kind to be out in public?” He muttered lowly. Keiko’s blood ran cold at the question before trying to save face.

“I-I’m sure I don’t know what you mean sir!” He exclaimed wildly. The stall keeper kept whittling away at his work.

“It’s fairly obvious, boy. I can see that damned tail of yours wagging through your cloak,” he pressed on.

Keiko felt like he was going to pass out from fear.

“Please sir, don’t say anything! My mama and papa like their lives here very much, we’ve never done anything to hurt anyone, I swear!” Keiko was borderline sobbing as he gripped the basket. The stranger stood up on his feet and clutched the whittling knife in his hand menacingly.

“And why shouldn’t I? It was your kind that got my daughter thrown out of my village! She tried eloping with one of you bastards and it damn near got her killed!” The black haired stranger shouted gruffly.

“Keiko? Keiko darling, where are you? Oh, there you are!” You clutched your skirt up as you trudged through the snow to your son. Your face immediately frowned when you saw just how badly Keiko was frightened before a clanking noise turned your head to the table.

The stranger was… crying? Onyx eyes brimmed with tears just by looking at you. He was struggling to articulate words. Keiko turned his head confusedly until he saw tears run down your face, hand pressed closely to your mouth. Your eyes were wide.

“(Y-Y/N)?” The stranger rasped. Your face crumpled in tears before you flung yourself at the stranger.

“DAD!” The stranger clung to you intensely as he buried his face into your neck.

“Hey, hey, shhhh. I’m here now, dad’s here. I’ve got you hon,” he rocked you gently in his arms and stroked your hair, letting you sob into his burly chest.

All before you were torn off him by a very. Angry. Katsuki. Katsuki was growling deeply at the stranger. The pinks of his gums could be seen, as well as the glint of his very sharp fangs. The stranger was clearly startled but stared at Katsuki with a strange look.

“Who. The. Hell. Is this fucker?” Katsuki held on to you with an iron grip in one arm and Keiko in the other. You let out a pained wince before prying yourself out of his grip.

“Baby, this is Shouta Aizawa. Or, I suppose my dad from my old village,” you let out a watery smile as you hugged Aizawa again. Katsuki let out another growl as he tried yanking you back. You tried to reassure him with a small smile before suddenly realising there were people literally staring at you.

“Let’s go home and sort this out, it’s very cold,” you offered. Aizawa’s eyes softened at you and nodded.

“I’ll pack up my stall”.

Part 2?

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #hybrid bnha #hybrid bnha x reader #bakugou #wolf bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #wolf bakugou and his pack #papa wolf katsuki #platonic aizawa x reader #he’s ur daddy aww

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