#race point lighthouse

[harveyspictures]

Hike to Race Point Lighthouse, August 8, 2023. We got caught by the incoming tide, had to wade back through waist deep water at one point.

[sleeplesslark]

Went to the beach. Here are beach pics

The lighthouse is still operational! Its solar powered :)

[sargeantposting]

A Logan Sargeant Primer: Part I (2000 - 2015)

Logan grows up in a ritzy suburb of Fort Lauderdale called Lighthouse Point with his parents and his older brother, Dalton.

The Sargeants don't have a deep motorsport history. Dalton and Logan get their first go-karts for Christmas in 2006, a gift from their father after their mother refuses to let her children ride dirt bikes anymore. Logan tells the NYT that:

“No one in the family was really even that much into racing. We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.”

The two brothers get more serious as the years go by-- within a few years, they're racing competitively. They both do well. Logan finishes in third place in only his first year of racing, and wins two titles in his second. 

Unfortunately, they figure out fairly quickly that there isn’t much more room to advance in American karting:

My older brother, Dalton, and I had been racing for a few years, and it had gotten to the point where we were asking around about where the next best level of competition was, and everybody was saying the same thing…. It was always Europe, Europe, Europe, Europe. To the point where my parents really started to think about it. At first it was just this idea, like Maybe we’ll move to Europe, who knows. I was just a kid overhearing stuff, so I didn’t know how serious the conversation must have been until this day I’ll never forget.

The conversation gets serious in 2012, when Logan’s dad, Daniel, asks the two if they want to move to Switzerland:

It was summer, and we were out to lunch. It was me, my dad, and Dalton. [...] So we’re at this restaurant, right? Chowing down on burgers (my favorite), and my dad gets to asking us about racing. Finally, he’s like, “What do you guys think? Do you really want to race in Europe? Are you 100% sure about this?” Me being 11 and naive, I was like, “Yeah sure.”  Looking back on it, I think I was lucky I was that young and that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. All the different ways it could change my life, the level of sacrifice it would require from my whole family. Because if I had known, I don’t know if I would’ve made the same decision so easily. It all happened fast, like in the movies. One minute, it’s Christmas, I’m six, and me and Dalton are yelling at the top of our lungs, excited about the two karts sitting in the driveway, pointed diagonally at each other like in a magazine. Next minute, I’m 11 and Dalton’s 14. We’re sitting at the table eating lunch with my dad, and it’s decided — our family’s moving to Europe.

When Logan tells the same story in GQ in 2023, he says:

I was always just going with the flow. For me it was just: sure.

The Sergeant family leaves for Switzerland just as Logan finishes up fifth grade. While Logan always talks about the family move to Switzerland in the context of his parents making sacrifices for his career, it's a little more complicated than that.

 GQ’s profile steps around the subject, briefly mentioning that “in addition to the racing opportunities, [Logan’s] Dad had business there.” Unfortunately, business would be an understatement. 

At the time, Logan’s dad, Daniel, worked for the family business– an asphalt trading and shipping company named Sergeant Marine. One of the driving forces behind Sergeant Marine’s success would be Daniel’s older brother, Harry. 

When Logan’s detractors mention his family’s connections to Trump, they’re usually referencing Harry. The NYT describes his billionaire uncle as “a former [Top Gun] fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)” 

Harry would leave the company around the time Daniel moved his family to Switzerland. According to The Florida Phoenix, “The entire family was embroiled in a long-running bitter series of lawsuits that ended with a 2015 bankruptcy settlement. Harry III walked away with a cool $56-million. In return he gave up any claim to ownership of Sargeant Marine and other family companies. There were 14 different lawsuits in several states in addition to the bankruptcy. The lawsuits produced salacious testimony that could only arise in a vicious dispute between millionaires. Harry III accused his brother Daniel of spending millions on his sons’ pursuits of race car driving and other ventures. Meanwhile, Daniel accused Sargeant III of being a spendthrift on things such as a $7.5-million mansion, private jets and exotic cars.”

Logan with his dad.

It would, somehow, get worse:

Oil and asphalt mogul Harry Sargeant III claims that industrial design plans along with recordings of "private consensual relations" were purloined from his private email account and traded off to a corporate intelligence agent as part of a years-long smear campaign against him spearheaded by his brother. Reigniting a long-running saga of brother-against-brother litigation, Harry Sargeant III claims that hundreds of pages of business records, personal discussions and "extremely sensitive videos and photographs" were illegally obtained from his email account. The material was used as currency for information-bartering between his brother Daniel Sargeant and a corporate intelligence chief at the nonparty legal service firm Burford, the lawsuit alleges. Harry is demanding damages for alleged invasion of privacy on the part of Daniel. The brothers had in years past worked together on managing the Sargeant family's global oil and asphalt empire, before intra-family disputes began to tear them apart. [...] The lawsuit claims the Burford investigator, a former corporate attorney, knows Harry well. According to the court documents, the investigator for years worked as an enforcement agent on a $28 million judgment secured against Harry by the king of Jordan's brother-in-law Mohammad Al-Saleh, who accused Harry of cutting him out of a deal to distribute oil to troops in the Iraq War. [...] Harry claims brother Daniel gave the corporate intelligence agent the treasure trove of Harry's emails  in exchange for inside information that would help the Sargeant family's asphalt company Latin American Investments in a separate multimillion-dollar legal dispute. Harry's underlying email account ran on a server of the family company Sargeant Marine. When he was ousted from the Sargeant empire, Harry had been told that the account was cut off at the root and all information in it had been destroyed, the lawsuit says. The lifted emails were instead provided to an "untold number of people" inside and outside of the family businesses in 2016, the lawsuit claims.

The information that Daniel traded his brother’s sex tape for would end up being useless. Daniel is currently out a $5 million bond and awaiting sentencing for the foreign bribery and money laundering charges he pled guilty to back in 2019. After bribing officials in three South American countries to secure asphalt contracts, the Department of Justice ended up making an example of the company– and Daniel– for violating the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. 

While Logan cites his career as a big reason for the family move, it appears that Sargeant Marine had conveniently made shell companies in Switzerland to aid in their illegal business dealings that same year.

Logan, blissfully unaware of any drama, tries to make the most of the big move. They move to Lugano, Switzerland– Dalton and Logan go to the American School on weekdays and race on the weekends in the European junior circuit, bouncing them between Italy, Switzerland and Britain. In GQ, Logan says:

“I definitely felt like school was a lot more challenging than in Florida,” he recalled. “And we were missing a lot of school, for sure, but that’s part of it with racing. It is what it is.”

Logan loves Switzerland. In his Players’ Tribune article, he says:

We moved into a three-bedroom apartment. It was me, my parents, Dalton, and our dog Roxy, the world traveler. Big difference from Florida. We had a whole new life. I loved Switzerland. I had a lot of good friends at my school there. I can’t explain it, but I just felt more a part of things. Me and my friends were big Chelsea fans, and we’d be hanging out, playing soccer all the time. We played Call of Duty like every other kid in the world.

However… Logan is the only one. Daniel is out doing shady asphalt deals around the world and suing his brother. Dalton moves back to Florida after a year-and-a-half. Their mother follows soon after that. Logan ends up living alone at the school: 

Dalton was my older brother, so for as far back as I can remember, I was chasing him. Man, we fought all the time. Every race, we were up against all these other kids, but he was always the one I was really trying to beat. But the thing is, when you’re a kid you miss things. You just can’t see everything so clearly. Like, for instance, being a bit older than me, I think he felt the shift more strongly when we moved, but I didn’t know it. He stayed in Switzerland for a year and a half, did some European karting, and started testing Formula cars. Then one day he just decided he wanted to go home and race in America. I won’t lie, that was a shock at the time. But I get it more now. Making that big life change was hard on my mom, too. Just think, you’re living in this brand new place, don’t have many friends. Me and Dalton were at school all day. My dad was traveling all over the place with work, so he was hardly there. The reality is, she was on her own a lot. So she ended up going back to Florida, too. For about a year and a half after that, it was just me. I was living at the school during that time.

When talking about how his mom moved back to Florida while Logan was living alone in Europe as a teenager, he told the Players’ Tribune that:

Looking back on everything, I just see all the sacrifices they made, and it means so much. No matter what they were going through, my family always pushed me to keep going. I feel like that was probably the hardest for my mom, especially. She means the world to me. She’s a bit of a worrier too, and overthinks. I think I get that from her. She’s always been the person I could go to when I was doubting myself. So I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to encourage me to keep going, when I know she probably wanted our family to be together. I’m really grateful, not only that they believed in me that much, to move our entire family, but that they took my passion for driving seriously enough not to let me give it all up.

While Logan’s personal life may be troubled, his karting career is doing exceptionally well. In 2014, he wins the prestigious SuperNats18 in Vegas:

Infinity Sports Management, Facebook - SARGEANT DOMINATES IN LAS VEGAS. Logan Sargeant produced a stunning display last weekend in the TAG Junior category at the Supernationals race in Las Vegas. After finishing runner up in the race in 2013 Logan was eager to go one better this year and bring home the winners trophy. Although Logan got pipped in qualifying he still managed to win every heat ensuring he would start from pole position for the final on Sunday. From there he kept the lead and came home 5.6 seconds clear of the second driver. With this win in TAG Junior Logan become the first driver ever to win the TAG Cadet and TAG Junior categories at the Supernationals race.

2015 manages to be even more exceptional. Logan starts the season by being the first North American driver to win a WSK event by winning the WSK Champions Cup in La Conca, Italy.

Logan with his mother after winning the WSK Champions Cup.

The season reaches its peak with Logan becomes the first American to win an FIA Karting World Championship, the top junior series, since Lake Speed in 1978.

He gets to go to the FIA Awards:

Logan: And I couldn’t thank my mechanic enough. And also my parents, uh, they really helped me to be able to win the world championship and it’s just an amazing feeling. Interviewer: I mean, did you, did you, what did you do when you found out you won? Did you call your friends at home? Did you phone your grandpa? What did you get up to? Logan: Uh, no, I just gave my mom and dad a really big hug. Interviewer: Is it still sinking in now? Logan: Yeah, it’s, it’s a really emotional thing. [...] Interviewer: Tell me about when you were a little bit younger than you are now. You’re only 14 now. But why racing, why, why is this so important to you? Logan: Um, well, my dad bought me a, a racing kart when I was five years old and we started from there. We thought it would just be like a little hobby and, uh, it ended up becoming like a professional thing we did. So. Interviewer: So, so was there a moment when you, when you or your dad just thought ‘Wow, I’m quick. I can do this’? Logan: Um, well, not really. We just kept progressing and then, um, when we, when we decided to come to Europe to race, um, we moved to Switzerland and from then on we were just, uh, going to school, I started going to school in Switzerland. And, yeah, and then we just kept going and then ended up like this. Interviewer: Do you have any other hobbies? Can you fit anything else in? Logan: Um, well, other than school it’s really hard. But when I get my breaks and I go back to Florida for, um, I like to go fishing a lot and, yeah, that’s what I do. Mostly. 

When interviewed after his win, Logan tells kart360 that:

Moving away from home is a very hard thing in your own personal life. You lose all of your best friends. You don’t have your "home" and you have to adapt to a different culture. It is hard to move to a country that speaks a different language than what you know, but racing is so important to me that I stuck through it and kept on going.

Logan clearly struggles on a personal level. He discusses his feelings in his Players’ Tribune article, saying: 

Coming up racing as a kid isn’t easy. That’s the most honest way I can put it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself, I’m done. I’m ready to come home. I’m glad I didn’t, but there were plenty of times when I wanted to. I remember one big time was the summer right after Dalton went back. We took this trip to the Bahamas with some of our extended family and friends. We were on the water, and everything was feeling like old times. And I think I just had this pit in the bottom of my stomach, like dreading going back. There was a night when I went to my mom, and I was like, “I’m just ready to come home.” I remember her asking me more questions about what I was feeling. I don’t even remember what I said, to be honest. I just remember that she didn’t tell me what to do. She left it completely up to me. My dad used to always say, “If you put in the work now, it’ll pay off eventually — it’ll be worth it.” And he kind of reminded me of that on that trip too. It’ll be worth it. Those four little words … that’s what kept me going. After that I sucked it up, went back to Switzerland, put my head down, and I went for it."

When Logan makes the jump to single seaters the next year, his parents rent him an apartment to live in by himself in London. The only time he’ll spend more than a few weeks in the US since he was a 12-year old would be during COVID.

But Logan’s time in single seaters will be for the next installment.

Logan through the years.

[sector38]

From Sector: 38

Entry: II

After my last "encounter," my mind was made – I couldn't just sit at the edge of the sector staring out at the abyss – a hunger had made itself a home inside of me, nested under my bosom and in between my ribcage. For what it was worth, I could now say I was the proud owner of a brand new sector pass (actually in date this time), meaning I could also now apply for a real job. Before, it felt like I was wading through murky waters devoid of a lighthouse: without any sense of direction or purpose, but now I knew where I was going, who I was to be, and what I was to become – a xenologist.

It wasn't the easiest job. When I told my friends, they outright laughed. Sure, the world wasn't what it used to be – fancy bits of laminated paper were all lost to the flood – but that didn't mean that anyone could just walk in with zero qualifications, no questions asked. This was especially so for jobs that didn't exist pre-flood (including but not limited to, you guessed it, xenology). Before, if the job existed, maybe I would have gone to some elite university and collected my certificate that, for some reason, was meant to equate four years of my life, with a smile – now, we had the circuits.

On the bright side, it was a shorter process, 6-12 months if you survived that long and shorter if you didn't. I didn't know the process that well (sue me), but I knew that I would be starting at the outer tier, maintenance (glorified clean-up crew) and working my way in, each stage more deadly than the last until finally I reached the core, or as its more commonly known, "The Arena." I could never just choose the easy path.

I knew I should have been nervous, but... I just wasn't. I guess after the encounter, it was hard to feel like I hadn't been given some top-secret information that put me ahead. I hadn't really had the time to think about it, or I did, but there wasn't really much to say or do. It wasn't like I could tell anyone – I don't know what would have been worse: them not believing me or their faces of disgust.

When all countries were dissolved, you'd have liked to think everyone would lose their patriotism (you know, considering there were no more countries to worthlessly devote themselves to) – wrong. The world became one big country, one metaphorical empire ruled by the human race. This meant anyone or anything not of the human race or not subservient to the human race (like my neighbour, Julie's pet squid) was technically considered an enemy of the state.

Wait, did I fuck a public enemy?

First-day jitters were nothing in comparison to whatever I was feeling, especially considering this wasn't even my first day more like a very short tester solo shift - in all my time on sector 38 I'd never felt seasick (probably because the plates don't move) and yet here I was suddenly greatly empathetic towards the poor souls who found themselves violently ill holidaying in pacific waters. I could barely walk straight, my legs felt like jelly, and my stomach was so heavy I genuinely wondered if I'd swallowed an anchor between breakfast and lunch.

Even now, i still don't understand why i was alone during my tester shift? I get that it was just three tasks, but typically, unless you're a high-level, you're not to be left alone - always followed by a superior. Still, as i said, it wasn't even like I was going to be doing much, according to the alerts who sent me my assignments the night before my shift

. Stack the crates

. File away medical instruments

. Clean the pods on deck Xv_2

Pretty standard stuff, to be honest. If i cared half as much as i should, I'd be outraged that they gave me such menial work - but i didn't, so i wasn't. All i cared about was getting to see more of them, speak to them, and understand them, and the only way to do that was to become a xenologist.

At that point, I couldn't care less about hierarchy and ranks - i didn't understand the tangled web of beurocracy or how clearing badges worked, well not until I'd spent less than five seconds on the deck and i was promtly told

"Attention!"

The wooden crate I'd be carrying dropped to the ground with a hollow thud, the solid wood colliding with the metal flooring, making an awful cacophony. I looked up at the figure and saw a man dressed in a black suit with a white under shirt and black tie, on his black hair sat snug a white naval cap and across his chest a number of metal pins. He looked at me expectantly, i hadn't been told anyone else would be on shift as far as I knew I was supposed to meet my peers next week.

While trying to carefully stack the box in the appropriate space, I gave an awkward smile

"Hi"

Somehow, in a moment, his face grew colder, from freezing to a subzero tundra in an instant - I could tell he wanted to say more, to reprimand me, put me in place - but promtly his alarm sounded on his right wrist.

He left without a word, his face coloured with urgency.

To say I was confused would be an understatement. In the new world, the navy took on a more active role with the marines following suit to a lesser degree and the army taking the least precedence out of the three - so seeing a navy officer wasn't unheard of or even uncommon, but a lieutenant?

It just didn't make any sense, especially considering my work for today was entirely made up of menial tasks - and the look on his face as he left or even before that when I greeted him? I'm not in the navy, clearly so why what was he expecting me to do? Salute? Bowe? Kiss the ground beneath his feet?

It didn't matter, I told myself, i quite literally had one job: keep my head down and become a certified xenologist...well, aside from cleaning the pods on deck.

After stacking the last of the crates and refusing to give into my temptation of opening them, I set about trying to look for the ever elusive deck Xv_2

I mean, would it have KILLED them to give me a map or something? All the corridors looked the same - eggshell cream walls with blue strip lights - every turn, every left, every right didn't feel like it was getting me any closer, to be honest, I wasn't sure if this was some sort of time warp zone, an after effect of some eldritch creature washed up during the flood.

Wandering through the halls, I passed numerous rooms with bolted doors and bright yellow signs with bold black writing, as if they were so afraid that someone might accidentally open the securely locked doors - aside from doors armed to the teeth I passed a myriad of people, i can't really use one word to describe them:

From white coats with slicked-back hair, needle-straight posture to black suits, black ties, white collars, and broze pins to white hazmat suits and black boots.

Like some sort of machine, my brain was fixed on identifying and categorising my colleagues (colleagues). Well, that was until I heard it, tapping against the walls

It was faint at first, easily missable, but then the sounds grew louder, the rapid patter of the metal walls surrounding me like rain against the window - except there was nothing to see, no visible trace of the source of the sound just the noise, just the polyphonic array.

If this was a film, the corridors would be dimly lit with no signs of life but my own heartbeat and panting breath ringing in my ears, but this is the real world, if anything the bright neon lights and the industrious workers who I chanced upon only led to an increase in my anixety - it was as though i was going insane, as though i was being followed

"Could no one else hear that?"

The noise was atonal and offbeat - seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, bouncing off the walls like an echo. My eyes darted around the corners of the walls as I discreetly tried to turn my head to locate the source of the sound only to be met with nothing. Whatever it was, it was quick. It was just too quick, the persistent creature darting always just out of sight.

Finally, after what felt like a literal millennia, I ran into a steal door labelled

Xv_2

I pushed both the persistent scurrying aside and the absurdly weighted door - inside a dimly lit room with large cylinders attached to the centre wall. To call it a deck seemed overly gracious, with the sizing being more akin to an office space or a large storeage room.

As i walked closer towards the cylinders, I understood why they needed to be cleaned - they were filthy, dust coating them in an opaque sheild blocking any possible view of whatever was sealed within them.

I grabbed the tissue pack I'd hastily shoved in my bra before leaving the house and stared at the cylinders - there was NO way they'd be enough. A part of me seriously thought about using my top, but the thought quickly vanished when i remembered I did actually have to leave the facility without being arrested for public indecency.

And that's when i felt it, a brush of cold air against my neck, raising my hair and sending a shiver down my spin. Instantly, I dropped my tissue pack on the small table and turned around but only to be met by nothing, empty space. I stared out at the room for a moment as though someone or something would magically appear it would probably still have only been the second strangest thing to happen to me as of last.After sufficiently staring out into an empty room I turned back around...

The tissues were gone.

I looked down at the floor, nothing. Half baked thoughts swirled around my head as i looked around the room

"I could have sworn i- did i bring them? Yes. Maybe i dropped them on a crate? No, i had them when-"

Finally, i got on my knees searching underneath the desk in hopes that somehow they'd fallen and I'd kicked them under. It was so dark I should have brought my phone or a flashlight or something, as I lent further under the desk the space narrowed which, if i was paying attention i would have known.

But, alas, i wasn't - instead, my mind was still fixed on how i needed to be more prepared in the future and how i shouldn't have a phone if i wasn't going to use it because the last time I didn't bring my phone i got-

Cold.

Cold air against my bare thighs, that feeling again. Except this time the cold felt more real? The touch more weighted less like the air and more like a person?

I stilled against the feeling, with every passing second the pressure grew till i could shape the outline: a hand.

I tried to move backwards from under the desk but promptly the feeling of another hand splayed across my waist - halting any movement. The hand across my waist kept a firm solid grip, with the cold air seeping through my clothes and onto my skin as though I were naked whilst the other fingers which previously splayed across my thigh began to move, inching ever so slowly towards my upper thigh.

Maybe it was the confusion or remnants of my first (but technically not first) day jitters. Maybe it was a cocktail of both, but I found myself slightly pushing towards the unknown force. Whatever it was must have taken that as a sign because suddenly, the fingers brushed in between my inner thighs dangerously close to my knickers.

I didn't know who or what was behind me, no-one else was in the room bar me and with only one entrance and exist it would have be impossible for anyone to come in without my knowledge - especially considering how heavy the door was.

This couldn't be a who, I thought. It must have been a what.

The thought excited me, that familiar warmth spreading in my lower stomach now juxtaposing the icy touch of the creature - I couldn't help but let out a breathy whimper. The creature must have heard because, within an instant, its cold finger pressed against my clothed entrance. The pressure was barely there, barely feelable almost imperceptible but that's what made is to so maddening - what made me push back against it despite the very firm hand on my waist.

We continued our dance: me pushing backwards, aching and desperate for any sort of relief or solid touch, and its outright reluctance to give it to me aside from the arctic hold on my mid section I could feel myself growing wetter, throbbing in a hot aching want. If i was capable of shame at that point, I would have been berating myself for wearing white panties instead of a more concealing black.

The feel of the wet material sticking to me and the mystery surrounding the strange figure was getting to be too much, I'd tried to bite my glossed lips concealing more whimpers and moans but i couldn't hold back anymore. I began to rock back harder, sounds slipping from my mouth like condensation down glass till the monster showed me mercy.

A cool finger began to push into me through my now presumably clear underwear, the sensation of wet cotton and the icy appendage dipping into me making me moan all the more - but it wasn't enough. I began to beg, pleas falling from my mouth faster than my brain could protest.

Cold and wet dragged along my cunt so abruptly I hit my head against the desk but I was too aroused to care - slowly the figure dragged its icy dripping tongue against me, lapping up my desire through my panties and adding to the wet region.

The drag was devastatingly slow, and whilst the pressure was a reprieve from my previous torture, it was nowhere near enough, tears gathered in my eyes as I begged for more. Then, I felt the being give one final lick before spreading my thighs out further and removing its hand from my waist - I was untouched.

For a brief moment, i wondered if it had left me, alone and hungry, desperate for something more - thankfully, it didn't. Instead, I felt what seemed to be a light kiss to my upper thigh before my skirt was bunched up to above my ass. The suddenness of it all made my gasp like a scandalised southern bell -as though I wasn't begging to be fucked by a stranger (who most definitely wasn't human) under a desk at my first day at work- though rapidly my gasp morphed into a whine as I felt the monster slip underneath my shaking spread out thighs so that the back of its head might rest against the floor with now both hands grasping my waist and hips.

It began to lick into me (still over my underwear) with a passion that I've never known, the glacial touch contrasting the warm friction building. I began to rock and press down onto its tongue and in response it sucked and licked and fucked into me with its tongue.

I'd asked, begged for more and I'd gotten it but I've always been greedy, always been stupid and reckless and impulsive, always been bossy even when I'm on my knees and then was absolutely no different.

"Let me fuck your mouth"

Instantly as soon as the words left my mouth I felt it moan against me the sensation only making me want it more, carefully after giving a few more playful sucks it released me - somehow even with its cold presence when it left me, the room felt so much more glacial.

I slid out from under the desk my shaking legs doing very little to help me in this endeavour, but before i could turn around to face the entity hands covered my eyes, of course this did nothing in ways of stopping me from seeing but I understood the getsture and so I closed my eyes.

Once my eyes were closed, the figure rearranged our bodies like a jigsaw piece as though it and I were one cohesive being all while I was immersed in the faint scent of sea salt and rain-soaked earth emanating from the creature - the delicate nature of the smell, alien to the steady yet all-consuming auror of the beast - like the sky before a storm. Once again, it was pressed against the ground with the back of its head to the metal flooring, and I was on top of it, this time fully able to sit with a straight posture.

It slowly guided me with my eyes still closed to its mouth with my still clothed cunt at first gently resting against its lips not wanting to move before it was ready till I felt it place both its sturdy hands on my waist and force me to rock into its mouth slightly.

I began slow, moving backwards and forwards on its cold tongue, trying to find a starting rhythm before the heat that momentarily subsided rose in full formation. Its hands were everywhere on my waist, my hips, my tummy. Like it was pushing and pulling me down and up, away, and to. Then suddenly one of its strong arms was lifting me slightly off its mouth eliciting an unexpected whine from me whilst the other moved the lace fabric to the side before gently lowering me back onto its cold wet mouth.

The feeling was foreign, invasive, intrusive, like a virus spreading through my body overtaking each nerve and blood cell before leaving me powerless to resist or even the desire to. The cold spit-soaked tongue dragged perfectly against me like waves hitting against the rocks, never missing their mark. I began to ride into its mouth, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I felt a familiar pressure build within me. I was so close to the edge, to the beginning and end of bliss. I didn’t know what the creature was or if it was even capable of feeling pleasure in the same way I did, but the desperate movements of its cold hands, one gripping my waist and the other my boobs showed me I wasn't alone in my heightened arousal.

Pleas and cries spilt from my lips, each more nonsensical and crass than the last:

"Please, please, fuck I'll be so good, fuck, your mouth its so- so perfect, you're so good for me, fuck, just like that, right there-"

Till eventually like an electrical current, the feeling washed over me - like fuzzy static interferce my whole body sparked alite. Its cold hands pressed me down harder as my body spasmed, tears welled in my eyes as I tried to move away, the pleasure building to be all too much, the overstimulation becoming extreme - but its presence remained lapping up my cum from my wet, warm, throbbing cunt.

My legs felt like jelly as it finally allowed me to stand, my lack of balance definitely not helped by my inability to see.

"Can I open my eyes... Tap me twice for yes?"

I felt a press of cold lips against my neck and then temple, sending a shiver down my spine and a small smile on my face before opening my eyes and turning around to see

Nothing.

I looked around the room confusion growing clearer on my face - thoughts regarding whether I'd made the whole scenario up in my head beginning to take root - before I felt cold hands rest against my cheek holding my head tilted slightly upwards before I felt cold lips move again against mine. The kiss was dry, soft, and sweet, still smelling of sea salt and storms and in that moment my mind was still, at peace like a total oneness with the world, with the truth whatever that may be.

Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat. Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill.Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat. Warning. Warning. Emergency alert. Code Amber. Please isolate in groups immediately. This is not a drill.

[khristie16]

A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves. warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut. tag list: @buendiabebeta words count: 2K Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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“Run cariño”

The cold environment around was not helping your situation at all. The wind was spreading around your skin like a plague and you felt goosebumps rising up your skin. You looked at both of them guys in disbelief. It was hunger and determination in their eyes. You knew you are their prey, but most importantly you started to feel like one. And although you knew what was waiting for you in the forest and who to await, somehow you couldn't bring yourself to commit to it.

“We give you a head start cherie, then there will be no help anymore. Choose wisely, your time is ticking”

Your eyes darted from side to side, your step back resulting in a crunch of something under your heel and you started to get scared. A sound that could become your nightmare echoed around you, causing anxiety, a desire to escape. Carlos groaned so inhumanly that you were starting to fear for your life. You hoped that they wouldn't ever hurt you, …right?

You knew there was no going back now. You expected what awaits you. You delayed your decision because you didn't want to admit what this theoretically meant for your future. And so you hesitantly turned around and started running. You didn't know that you weren't running away from them as much as you were running away from yourself, you were afraid of the answer to the question of why you let this get so far.

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You feel weakness in your legs. You left your heels behind long time ago, you don't know how and you don't even know how long you've been running, and the only thing that keeps you company are the sounds of your breath and hooting owls. You heard nothing more. And you were glad for it. Until you heard the first distant steps behind you.

Your heart races in sync with each pounding footstep on the leaf-covered ground. The moon's feeble light barely penetrates the dense canopy, casting shadows that seem to reach out for you. That is when you're like a lighthouse, your dress lights up in the moonlight, it's like you're a siren calling your lover to you. But you weren't the one who had dominion over them. They have one over you and they're coming for you. You are their beautiful bait and they look forward to seeing what they can get out of you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, mixing with the rustling leaves and the distant calls of dangerous creatures.

Your senses are on high alert, and you strain to hear any hint of your pursuer's approach. Your path is uncertain, guided only by instinct, and you pray that you don't stumble into a hidden trap or lose your way entirely. Each second feels like an eternity as you navigate this dark, twisted labyrinth, desperately seeking refuge and safety from the relentless pursuit that shadows your every move.

As you were getting lost in yourself, you found yourself in captivity. Like a hare caught in a trap. The hare was going to be dinner and that's exactly how you felt right now because you were hanging upside down and your legs were tightly tied together. Before you could recover, the world around you seemed a blur, and you couldn't find a single stable point of reference to focus on and pick up your spinning mind. It took some time for you to swing to a relatively stable motion in the suspension and you began to search for them with your eyes. You were scared and not sure if this was part of the game. What if you accidentally wandered into someone else's territory? After all you don’t know where you are and what type of people live around here. So you waited for a moment with a huge tension in your muscles, desperately trying to catch the tiniest bit of sound that would indicate that you were not alone. That desperate you were, to see your hunters. And some wishes come true.

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“Look at the beauty. She is even bare for us.”

You knew it was Carlos talking. You saw a pair of legs walking right towards you. And you couldn't help but feel relieved that they had found you. What is going on with you? You could feel Charles as well, the rush of heat behind your back was quite noticeable. Your boys found you…

“So beautiful. Her wetness shines the same as her dress.”

Only now did you realize what he was talking about. Your clothes were revealing. You had them halfway down and the only thing stopping the fabric from going all the way down over your face were your breasts. You were like a sacrifice for both the two, in honor of their presence. You didn't know what to do with yourself, you started shaking if it was even more possible and you wanted to hide, you had never experienced such shame in your entire life.

Someone's fingers started to touch you very sensually at your bound ankles. They slowly moved from side to side and he gradually took it down to your thigh. You held your breath at the fact that this was the first time one of the boys had touched you like this. You felt your bottom flush with blood and you swallowed loudly in response. Charles chuckled at that. Before you could feel even more shame, someone's hands grabbed your thighs tightly and violently and you were suspended to a greater height. Your face was now at Carlos's crotch level and you couldn't help but smell his scent, which you've known so intimately for a few months now. You never realized how used to that smell you are… Carlos continued his act and opened you wide. Your knees were bucked to the sides and Charles pressed into you from behind with such vigor that it was impossible for you to fall down again. You had Carlos in the front and Charles in the back. In their captivity between their bodies that warmed you so.

“We thank god each day for you being so tiny. We can do whatever we please with you.”

“Oh and look Carlos how beautifully she is glistening for us. You waiting for us to devour you right cherie?”

You lost your words at his words. You’ve never experienced such thing, guys only ate you out in bed in a completely normal position, not hang up with your ankles tied together. Carlos growled immediately with your lack of response. You whined so hard because you didn't like the position you were in. You felt the blood rush to your brain and you expected it to get worse and worse.

“Cherie, it will only get worse, you will make us eat you like hungry wolves if you give us even less time.”

Your desperation showed in another wail and you forced yourself to answer them with your cries.

“Y-yes, I w-want you t-to”

“Want to what cariño”

“To e-eat m-me..”

You just had a little bit of time to let out a painful whine before they both started on you. One part of your cunt was handled by Carlos while Charles tore his tongue inside of you, neither of them making sure it was gentle. It was so intense that one whine turned into a loud moan and you no longer recognized who was who. Their tongues melded together as you experienced one intense bliss. They ate you like they hadn't eaten in a month and the more you wiggled and sighed, the more bites they added and you couldn't even bend your back because of how tightly they held you between them.

And so you got carried away. You had already given up on resisting them as your head hurt more and more and it was getting harder and harder to resist them, so you let yourself get carried away by the satisfaction they brought you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer and the slightest movement from their mouth would cause you pain that you could never have imagined. On the contrary, if it was possible, you tried to immerse yourself in them more and more, because you were afraid that they might break away from you. Their tongues were like at home with your cunt. You let out everything you could, the guys digging their nails into you so deep you were sure they left scars on you as your orgasm accompanied you. The orgasm flew through your whole body to your head, where it was already ringing and you stopped being conscious. You slowly and intensely fell into unconsciousness surrounded by your possessed admirers. Was it the worst or the best thing that could have happened to you?

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“She's such a strong woman you see?”

“Yeah, she did sooo well Carlos. You need to be more nice to her.”

“She doesn't need nice. She needs us.”

You slowly started to wake up and blink your eyelids quickly to relieve yourself from the darkness and look around to see where you are now. You vaguely remembered what happened in the forest and now you were confused as to where you went. You couldn't come up with an answer, but you knew one thing for sure. Your shoulders are stiff and tense. When you took a little time, you found out that your hands were forcibly tied behind your back, someone was holding them. That is, you found yourself in the lap of Carlos, who held your wrists behind your back so much that your chest sticked out. And you knew by the smell that you must be in the car. When your eyes finally started to cooperate with your consciousness as well, you recognised that Charles was sitting in front of you, on the ground where the car seat had been positioned before.

“Hello cherie”

“Charles…”

You looked into his eyes, they were so gentle and carried so much comfort and warmth that you couldn't believe that this Charles was the same Charles from the forest, that animal from the forest that was harassing your pussy, it's a wonder you didn't lose all your humanity.

“I noticed that you have a weird obsession with my rings. You like them a lot don't you baby?”

You looked at him again and just stared blankly at him. Were you that noticeable? Charles has divine hands, and palms, and fingers, and you always wondered why you didn't faint when you saw those rings on his fingers, which you often imagined on your body.

“Y-yes…”

“I thought I could give you some of my rings. Sharing is caring, no?”

Now you had no idea what he meant. What would you do with his rings? You like those rings in the first place because he's wearing them. Before you could think twice, Charles pulled a box out of his pocket. Opening it, he pointed it towards you so you could see what was inside. There were two small circles, black circles. These were definitely not for the fingers. Your confusion was evident from your facial expression. Charles chuckled and continued on.

“I understand your obsession cherie. That's why I'm doing this to you. I give you my rings and you're gonna wear them proudly on your tits.”

That made you squirm a little. And only now did you notice that you were sitting there completely naked. Fear began to flow through your veins again and you waited to see what would happen next. You were excited about it.

“Look at her, she's so excited about it.”

Carlos remembered his presence and you flinched at his sudden reaction. You looked back at Charles who was already taking two small rings with his fingers and pinning them to your nipples. It was a pain that could make you sweat your soul out.

“I want you to wear them to the ceremony. I will buy you better ones later.”

The pain clouded your brain and the only sound you made was a whimper. After which Carlos put more pressure to your wrists. He obviously didn't like any sign of weakness. After a little bit of time you took for yourself to calm down and try to forget about the pain you’ve felt, you tried to remember what was Charles talking about not so long ago.

“About what ceremony are you talking about?”

Charles was creeping inside your cunt and one of his fingers was slowly disappearing inside you. You were watching it from the very first moment and you could come undone just from that.

“For claiming you as ours and keeping you”

Your brain went into overdrive and you slowly went back to thinking that this was all a bad idea and bad for your career. But Carlos, as if reading your mind, started kissing the side of your neck and earlobe. You closed your eyes and Charles added a second finger that sent you back into your dumb fucked state and you let yourself be swept away by the flow of satisfaction again.

“We need to make sure you're ready to take us. You're so tiny and tight baby girl.”

You started to move against him because the only thing you had become was a selfish thing chasing your own satisfaction and forgetting everything else in your joy. You would do anything to bring yourself to the peak. Carlos started biting you and you tilted your head back even more so he could destroy you even more. And you felt the growing thing in his pants that was trying to invade your space with this. You wanted it so bad. And you were so hoping to have them all night just for yourself.

“You want to come on my rings cherie?”

“Y-yes.”

Charles added a third finger and sped up. But you were far from done with your wish.

“And I want you to come on my rings too.”

Charles hissed at that and Carlos bit into your neck like never before. You were closer and closer and you were coming out with the words of Charles's name and his words in the air filling your ears.

“Come for me then cherie.”

[grogusmum]

A Dark and Stormy Night (oneshot)

werewolf!FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER

W/C: 3500ish

RATED: E (18+)

WARNINGS: well, monsterfucking, oral sex (f recieving), rough sex, unprotected PiV sex (it's a fantasy y'all you know what to do!!). As always, if you see something, say something. Message me in my DMs, I'm happy to add something I missed.

SUMMARY: You stumble into a lighthouse to get out of a storm, and meet the handsome light-keeper, who has a secret, but is irresistible.

A/N: Oberyn and the Merling was technically my first foray into monsterfucking, but that was like teenagers humping in the back of a car...this is, well, it's as no holds barred as I've ever gotten. I hope it doesn't suck, lol. Anyway wish me luck! 💚

This was posted as a multipart fic, but when I finished the second part it made more sense to be all one piece. I may write more for these two, but as it stands, it is a oneshot.

You follow a boardwalk that becomes a path as the clouds roll in, obscuring the moon. You know you need to find cover before the storm.

Focusing on the shifting sand under your feet, as the rain begins, you speed up. The skies continue to darken; soon, you reach the first rocks of the jetty while the rain comes down in sheets. Looking up, you find yourself at the base of an old lighthouse. The lens swings across the black water as it lights up the dark and stormy night for those lost at sea.

Beach rose thorns tear at your sweater as you race up the slope. Beyond, scrub pines and pin oak trees create a small amount of cover; the wind picks up, but not before you hear the baying of a wolf… no, not a wolf. A coyote, there are no wolves in these parts. But there's something different about the howl; you speed up and bang on the door of the great beacon.

"Hello?" You shout, "please! Is anyone there?"

As if in answer, another howl rings out, making you jump. After a crash of lightning for good measure, you try the latch and push the door open, willing to disregard good manners. Looking for a switch or a lamp, you find only a candle in a heavy brass holder on a small shelf and a black matchbox holder attached to the curved wall. 

Running the wooden match across the strike pad, it sputters to life, and you light the candle. Slipping your finger into the brass ring of the candle holder and carrying it before you, the Gothic horror mood of the whole situation is not lost on you. With a sigh and a shiver, you wind up the spiral stairs.

"Hell-lo? I don't mean to intrude, but…" you call again and then with a chuckle in an undertone, "Our car broke down a few miles up the road. Do you have a phone we might use?"

Shivering in your soaked clothes, you reach the first level, which contains the living quarters. You can't help but rush to the woodstove, which warms the round room.

You hear a creak below as you take off your shoes and socks. Did you forget to latch the door entirely? Biting your lip in worry, you continue to listen; bracing yourself, you pull a poker from the coal scuttle.

You wait and wait. Time spins out—the only measure is your heart’s tattoo, like a rabbit's. As the adrenaline clears your system, you become exhausted. Swaying where you stand, the iron poker clangs on the pine floor, bringing you back. Deciding it must just be “old house sounds,” you move to the bed and sit, and without so much as a yawn of warning, your eyes slip closed.

In the middle of the night, you feel a weight on your chest, soft and warm. Your eyes flutter open, and blocking the light coming from the woodstove is an enormous shape pressing on you; as your eyes focus, it huffs a breath, and you recognize it as a sleeping dog sound. It's huge, with pointed ears. How did you not see or hear it when you came in? Whether a watchdog or not, wouldn’t it have come to investigate? The trunk of the animal is on you, its muzzle at your collarbone, a front leg on either side of you, fully caging you in. Your hand comes up, fingers sinking into its plush fur, like a wolf’s… you shake your head, not a wolf, of course, but those dogs that look like them. Its steady heartbeat and relaxed breathing lull you back to sleep; elk-hound, that's what the one, you think, as you drift under again.

Waking again at full light, you find yourself tucked into a patchwork quilt, your shoes placed under the stove, warm and dry, no dog to be seen. The smell of eggs and bacon draws you up the stairs, halfway up you can hear the food sizzling on the stove. You feel this need to check yourself over, but you seem fine. You fell asleep on the bed of a stranger, who is apparently back- you shake your head at how unbelievably dangerous that was. Then you remember the dangers outside… it's a calculated, if hastily figured, risk.

His back to you, in front of the stove, you presume, is the light-keeper, a cable knit sweater stretched across his broad shoulders. 

"He-hello?"

He turns, soft brown eyes, brown curls standing up as though he’d run his fingers through them just a moment ago, a sharp nose that suits him, with crease of his bottom lip that accentuates his mouth’s natural pout. Not that you had any real expectations on what a lighthouse operator looks like but... maybe like some old-salt sailor type with a beard and pipe. Silly, of course. You remind yourself that you are not a cod fish and close your mouth.

"Morning," came his rich baritone voice.

"I'm so sorry, I- I - the storm-” you stumble as you try to pull yourself together.

"Don't worry about that. I hope you slept alright. "

"I did, thank you, but  I- should get going." You start putting on your shoes, “ I really didn't mean to fall asleep, " ...on your bed.

“'S not problem, really; that was one hell of a storm last night.”

“I should go-”

Well,” he says, bringing breakfast to a simple pine table, “that's the tricky part…” 

“W-why?”

“The roads are impassable and there's more rain on the way.”

“Oh.”

“Nothing to be done about it right now,” he says, “have something to eat.”

You begin to eat, and after a bite or two, you introduce yourself.

“Where are my manners- I’m Frankie. Spending too much time on my own, I guess.”

“Are you kidding, I burst into your house like Goldilocks! Found sleeping in your bed.”

“And was it just right, Goldie?” He smirks.

You fluster a little; he is very handsome after all, and broad and was that flirting… 

“Better to be Goldilocks than Red Riding Hood, I suppose.” He says you get the feeling it wasn’t meant to be out loud. “I guess that depends on who the huntsman turns out to be…” 

He notices your eyes widen and smiles apologetically, brushing his comment aside. “Sorry, like I said, spend a lot of time on my own.”

"S-speaking of Red Riding Hood, where’s your dog? It came and slept with me last night.”

“Hmmm?" Frankie murmurs as he sets the table, "Oh, he’s- around.”

“Well, he kept me very cozy last night. What a cuddle bug; what’s his name?”

“His, um - it’s Cisco. You better dig into those eggs; they're gonna get cold.”

“Right,” you take up a fork of scrambled egg, “I will be able to leave today, though, right?”

“We’ll have to see,” is all he says before digging into his breakfast.

Frankie goes about his light-keeper duties, including hunting for his lost skiff. You aren't sure what to do with your time-

“Is there something I can do to help? I kind of feel weird just sitting around-”

“Well, the weather isn't going to let us do much outside safely, but-”

Frankie pulls off his ball cap, ruffles his hair, and plops it back on his head, thinking, “I mean, you could help clean the lantern glass …”

“Really?” You stand, excited to do a real lighthouse job. 

“Sure, hard to mess up… no offense, and safe.” 

You take no offense; on the contrary, you clap happily to yourself, to which Frankie chuckles.

After showing you the supplies and giving you a quick demonstration, he starts down the stairs to continue with his other duties and then stops and turns-

"Thanks, Goldie," he winks and then descends the stairs.

After a time, you see him out on the rocks despite the wind starting up again from the east. He must be looking for his rowboat. You decide to scout the circumference of the lantern room, looking out the windows to see if you can see the craft. 

To the northwest, you see something red against the rocks. It doesn't look good.

You step out onto the gallery. Luckily, this isn't a particularly tall lighthouse, but it's tall enough, and the iron balcony was small enough that you feel a touch of vertigo looking down. It doesn't help that the wind's really kicking up now, reminding you that this is just a break in the storm. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and open them.

"Uh, Frankie!" 

Frankie looks up, hand going to the bill of his cap.

"Is that your skiff?" You point to the red “something” half in the water. 

He hollers his thanks and jogs over to where you are indicating, and you can see his frustrated huff as his hands hitch onto his hips in a disgruntled fashion.

Cleaning all that glass takes time, and your shoulders can feel the real work of it. You stop only when your stomach screams for lunch, and you find a sandwich under plastic wrap for you, but you haven’t seen Frankie, Lighthouse Keeper, the rest of your time working on it, nor Cisco, the Lighthouse Dog. 

He had brought the boat to a shed and disappeared inside it. When and if he came out, you didn't notice. You also realize you haven’t seen any signs of a pet anywhere; no bed or bowls. When you come down the spiral steps, you smell of the concoction used for cleaning the glass and lens; watered-down isopropyl alcohol and Woolight - but mostly the alcohol. 

“You'll want to wash your hands with this,” Frankie hands you a bar of soap at the first landing of the spiral stair. “It'll take care of the rubbing alcohol smell and keep your hands from drying out.” 

Frankie gives a crooked smile of apology at your startled jump. Murmuring your thanks, you take it and smell the bar that looks so small when in his hand. Fresh. Your mind wanders to how this fresh scent might mingle with Frankie's natural one. The bubble of revery is just a millisecond and pops like one the moment your eyes land on Frankie, who looks like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

When you join him in the kitchen, where he is again standing over the stove, the delicious scent of savory soup reminds you of coming home after a long chilly walk from school. The wind is howling now, and you can hear the crash of the waves, as high tide approaches, the pound of them like rumbling thunder. Its only rival is the whip crack of the actual thunder chasing the lighting strikes illuminating the windows. 

“Where’s Cisco?”

“Weather like this he likes to be below,” Frankie says after a beat, back still turned, “I have him set up with his bed down there so he doesn’t get anxious.”

“Oh,” you feel a little more at ease about not seeing neither hide nor hair of the beast of a dog all day.

“It'll be dark early due to the storm, and I’ll have duties up above. I’m going to ask you to stay in the living quarters. I’ll sleep up there, so, um, just - make yourself at home.”  

You do your best, but your mind is on Frankie in a way that makes what you would be doing at home, not at all appropriate, even when told to make yourself at home.  His dark eyes, big hands... him calling you Goldie. How many times your mind has gone back to him asking you if his bed was just right, you dare not admit, even to yourself. You don't know him, you remind yourself.

Suddenly, there's a bang and scuffle. Then you hear a yowl.

“Cisco?” You go to the door, preparing to go down to where you assume he's been set up, but a second sound confirms it's coming from above, not below… where Frankie is.                   

You turn and look up the spiral stairs. “F-Frankie?”

Your foot hesitantly lands on the first step -

“D-did Cisco follow you? 

More shuffling and a loud thunk on the floor bring you up short. Frankie asked you to stay below, but maybe he hurt himself, or Cisco made his way up there and was scared of the storm. Your feet start moving again up the winding steps. 

You pause, your head just above the landing, eyes adjusting to the strange light of the lantern room. Instead of finding a dog, on the floor is a pile of clothes, folded neatly, with Frankie's cap placed atop it. As you look up, you see Frankie from behind, sitting in the one chair the room affords. His skin gleams with a layer of sweat, and he gives a sudden quake.

“Frankie! A-are you alright? I heard-”

His head whips around and then down as you are still only partway up the stairs. 

“I told you to sta—” the lightning flashes, and you see Frankie's eyes have changed. They are no longer warm, sweet brown but glowing amber. 

“Wh- you- you're-” Everything in you screams to run as far away as possible, but when Frankie contorts in a new wave of pain, you scramble up the stairs. He almost wails in despair as you approach the chair. “Frankie, what is happening? How can I - hel -”

“ C-can’t, go G-gold-ie, please!” 

“I don’t understand, Frankie. What’s happening?” 

The light-keeper takes a steadying breath as if fighting every molecule of his changing form, Though he knows it’s too late. Too late to shield you. 

“C-come here,” he breathes.

Lighting flashes again, the boom of thunder right on top of it. When your eyes adjust yet again, you go around the chair to face him. Frankie takes your hand; long claw-like nails have sprouted, and you have cottoned on. Frankie is - 

While he has a firm grip, he causes no pain. Your brows knot as he pushes up your sleeve. 

“I will remember,” he says, as much for himself as for you. Then he presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply, and his eyes flick up to yours. The storm rages, the lens does its steady turn, and Frankie continues to smell you. He stands, eyes never breaking contact, his bare skin glistening in the light.

 You had tried not to look down at his body. But he's so close, and when he stands, your resolve breaks. Frankie is strong and somehow more broad across the shoulders than when in the confines of his fisherman’s sweater but has a trim waist. His Adonis belt is so enticing, as is his soft belly. Below that, his uncut cock has an enticing curve. Your eyes travel back up. You find his waiting for yours; he lifts his head away from your wrist and pulls; you stumble a step closer, and his face burrows into your neck. He breathes in your scent.

“Didn't harm you last night, I won't… I’ll remember, promise. You smell so good, Goldie.”

The warmth you feel low in your pelvis is combined with a shiver as you clench on nothing.

“S-so, you-your…” you stammer as his clawed hands wrap around your waist; he tastes your collarbone, licking a long stripe as he finds his way below your ear. Your knees buckle, but Frankie has a firm grip on you. “Cisco?”

“ ���m ssorry,” he slurs, his nose nestled where your ear and jaw meet. “You taste as good as you smell, Goldie… I wonder-” 

What Frankie is wondering is interrupted by a long canine whine as he pulls back, face contorted in pain as his teeth elongate into fangs.

The blood has surely left your face, and you're shocked as you become aware that it has rushed to lower regions. You can feel the wetness between your legs, and  Frankie, closing his eyes, breathes in how your scent has changed. 

The sinful look he gives sends more heat between your thighs; you know you're soaked by now. You can still see the handsome light-keep though his eyes glow, his ears are now pointed, and his hair is shaggy. A hungry tongue moves over sharp teeth. Teeth made for tearing your throat out.

The next thunderclap shakes the lighthouse, and it's only then that he breaks his grip on you. He cries out as his body continues to transform. It snaps you out of your trance. You run down the iron stairs, passing the kitchen, down to the living quarters, and you're brought up short by a full wolf bay sounding from above. 

“What am I doing? What am I doing!?” you look up the stairs, and almost against your will, you look through the doorway to the bed—the bed where Frankie had lain atop you as the wolf. Then your eyes drift upward again, biting your thumb in indecision. Or perhaps fear at the decision you're apparently making. You slowly undress, leaving the door open; you spread out on the soft bed and wait to see what happens.

How much time before you hear the click of canine claws on the treads of each step, you aren't sure. You only know the twist of arousal you feel arches your back, and Frankie hasn't even touched you. Are you afraid? Not as much as you think you should be. It's there; this danger lights up your brain and sends adrenaline coursing through you. But he didn't hurt you last night, and he said- he-

The wolf growls around the door; he is not on all fours but hunched, one front paw occasionally touching the floor. 

“F-f-” you stammer as his front paws press heavily on the bed. He is enormous, and he hulks over you. His snout investigates every crease and crevice. You close your eyes as he noses at your mound. “-fuck.”

The wolf's tongue dips between your legs, and you gasp as your legs open like an involuntary response, and Frankie seems to seize the opportunity to open you further, pawing at your thighs, opening them, holding them where he wants them. Claws press on your sensitive skin as he laps at you.

“Frankie!” Your fingers dig into the thick, soft fur as the twist in your womb tightens and you pulse. 

How much of the man is still present, you have no idea. You are, of course, banking on it, and you figure praying to every deity that he is there, keeping the beast from tearing you to shreds, can't hurt. 

You can feel the rumble from deep in Frankie's throat, and when his long tongue breaches your pussy, he is immediately rewarded with a gush as lights pop behind your eyelids and the coil in your belly snaps.

You cry out, and he drinks sloppily at your entrance. He doesn't stop until you start to come down from your high, your chest’s rise and fall finally slowing.

Then the beast towers over you, his cock weeping. In one swift move of inhuman strength, he's suddenly flipped you onto your stomach. His large paws holding your hips, he brings your backside up, and in one fast motion, he's sheathed himself to the hilt. 

As ready as his tongue had made you, you still are stretched beyond anything you've ever experienced. He is deep inside, and his snout nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, making you feel utterly consumed by him. His brutal pace lifts your knees off the bed when he begins to move. His rhythm takes your breath away, his length hitting that delicious spot inside you that most find elusive, and it isn't long before the telltale swell of another orgasm begins to crest.

When you clamp down around him, he howls, and you know he has come right along with you. His rhythm stutters and slows. Frankie's tongue lazily drags over your shoulder blade, and he whines as his nose nudges at your hair.  As you both float back into your bodies, opening your eyes, the round room is drenched in moonlight. The storm has passed. 

The beast allows you to roll onto your side before covering you again, as he had the night before. He gives a chaste lick to your cheek, and you huff a laugh, wondering if you will even be able to look him in the eye in the morning. But you're too exhausted and drift to sleep before shame can take its turn to feast on you.

The morning sun blazes as it has a way of doing after a storm; shorebirds herald the day, and again, you wake to the smell of breakfast, sausage, coffee, and eggs. You're again tucked into the worn but well-cared-for quilt. Your eyes rove the room as you try not to overthink, and just as you reach for your clothes (which are neatly laid out at the end of the bed), Frankie, the man, comes in with a tray heaped with food—the smell of his delicious cooking filling the room.

“ ‘Morning, Goldie.” he smiles shyly. His eyes are not quite meeting yours, and he keeps himself busy with the breakfast tray. You return his smile, somehow his sweet bashfulness making you feel less self-conscious- 

“G’morning, Fran- Fran-cisco!”

Brown eyes sparkling in response to yours becoming like saucers, Frankie's smile widens.

Taglist @pedrostories @beecastle @katareyoudrilling @elegantduckturtle @practicalghost @amneris21 @batdarkladyvampir @miraclesabound @greeneyedblondie44 @fan-of-encouragement @browneyes-issac @mswarriorbabe80 @nissameta1782 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @heavenseed76 @oonajaeadira @harriedandharassed @geekrenaissance @tintinn16 @deadhumourist @littlemisspascal @wannab-urs @animejunki5 @writeforfandoms @tae27 @chaoticgeminate

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[allaboutsturns]

ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ (ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ)

matthew sturniolo x reader

content/warnings: fluff, mentions of healing process, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries.

summary: it’s been about two months since you got released from the hospital after the incident and you’re closer with the triplets than ever, especially your boyfriend, matt who did everything in his power to fix the mistakes he made.

it’s been around two months since you were released from the hospital and were now home. the healing journey obtained many ups and downs along the way.

there were points during the process where you’d wake up from a nap and stand up out of bed, immediately hit with a wave of pain the moment your feet hit the floor. you’d have to run to the bathroom as quickly as you could because the pain coursing through you hurt so bad it made you physically ill. most of the time when this happened, matt was present and ready, taking your hair in his hands and holding it gently out of your face to make sure none of the vomit dispelling out of you would infect your soft hair.

you were so grateful to have him. while yes, your relationship had its ups and downs, the ups were much more prominent and meaningful.

matt to this day felt guilty about that night, the night that the incident occurred. you and the boys referred to that night as ‘the incident’ because calling it anything else made your hearts ache with the memories.

you still had a difficult time with walking, attending weekly physical therapy to help regain full control. due to your weak muscles and injuries, matt would take care of you, making you breakfast and dinner in bed.

because you now struggled with being able to pleasure yourself, he took it upon himself to do it for you on the nights that you longed for it the most. he did everything for you. he felt as though he needed to, as though he owed it to you.

you constantly reassured him and told him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to do everything he was doing for you, but he ignored it. to him, everything he was doing, you deserved. he never wanted to experience almost losing you again, it was too much for him to handle.

some nights he would come home after filming a video with his brothers, flowers and chocolates in hand. he would light a candle and present the gifts to you with the sweetest smile on his face. he had a newfound love for doing all of this stuff for you, he appreciated being able to more, now that he experienced almost losing you.

a couple days ago, matt made the decision to propose, and of course you said yes. the two of you didn’t plan on holding the wedding anytime soon, or even plan on finalizing the marriage soon, he just wanted to be able to say he was engaged to you, it made his heart flutter with joy.

on the rougher nights, matt would wake up in a cold sweat, his chest heaving and his mind racing after an awful nightmare about that night.

his frantic, short breaths would wake you from your light sleep and you would hold him, letting him rest his head on your chest, which allowed him to hear your calm breaths and gentle heartbeat, reminding him that you were still there. sometimes you guys would lay like that, awake, for a couple hours. other times you guys would fall back asleep almost immediately.

because of your near death experience, you spent more time with nick and chris as well, not wanting to spend any time away from any of the three of them. they were your home, your lighthouse, and you were theirs.

-

you were laying in bed with matt, his head gently resting on your chest, one arm tucked under his body and the other stretched across your stomach.

“i love you, y/n,” he whispered, sleep taunting each word.

“i love you, matt,” you replied with a small smile. he shook his head slightly, “no, i love you. and i am so grateful that you’re mine and i am yours and that we are together,” he paused for a moment before continuing, turning his head so that he could look into your eyes, “you are my everything, my reason, my power, my inspiration, my motivation. you are my everything.” he cooed, reaching a hand up to your face, his thumb brushing away a grateful tear that had managed to escape your waterline.

“you’re my everything, love,” you said with a slight sniffle. he smiled at you gently, that same beautiful smile you had come to love, and you didn’t hesitate to smile back.

he nuzzled his head further into your chest, pulling you as closely as he could, not wanting any distance between the two of you. you giggled to yourself, unable to hide the adoration you had for him.

your eyes grew heavy as did his, and you both allowed sleep to carry you away, your breathing in sync.

divider by: @/Kafekitsune

hey guys!! i know this is a shorter one but i struggled with writing this SO MUCH, i had no ideas at all BUT needed to get it out to u guys. hopefully nothing is confusing because i don’t proofread my work like… at all.

anyways! this is the finale, i hope u guys enjoyed!! i am so grateful for the support and thank u guys so much for 100 followers! i love u

- ace <3

taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter

[cnt-21]

Endless Nighttime Sky

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x f!reader

summary: feyd-rautha was never supposed to be a harkonnen.

wc: 2240

warnings: angst, canon typical violence, referenced sex, references to the baron being a creep, major character death

a/n: i merged pt 2 movie feyd and book feyd bc my antidepressants won’t let me sleep or cry or feel so now we all suffer

⟢

⟢

Feyd-Rautha’s life has never been colorful, even before his Uncle brought him and his brother to Giedi Prime after the incident. But Lankiveil was a different type of colorless than Giedi Prime. Endless snow and endless sea and endless sky were only ever interrupted by the occasional building or boat or cloud, it was a natural absence of color. On Giedi Prime, color wasn’t absent, rather, it was stolen. Extinguished by the light of the black sun.

As a child, he could step outside and see the pink of his skin, the blue of the sea, and her cerise colored lips stretched into a smile. Feyd tried not to think of such things underneath the black sun of Giedi Prime, focusing instead on the blades in his hands, the rush of blood in his veins, and the roar of the crowd as he cut down his opponent. It’s easy in the arena, watching the blood seep out of wounds of the fighting men, like watching ink bleed across paper.

As the second son of a second son, Feyd shouldn’t have been the heir to anything, let alone his Uncle’s Barony, but his Uncle’s preferences and his brother’s violent tendencies all but shoved the title of na-Baron into his lap. He wishes he could’ve kept his mother’s name, wishes the name Rabban hadn’t been tainted by his degenerate brother, wishes he hadn’t been corrupted by the Harkonnen name.

Glossu was supposed to be Uncle’s heir. Glossu “Beast” Rabban should’ve been na-Baron Glossu Harkonnen. Glossu was supposed to go to Giedi Prime by himself, and Feyd wouldn’t have had to learn to fight as a gladiator, to hide poison needles in his clothes, to seek comfort in pleasure slaves and pain. Feyd-Rautha Rabban would’ve learned how to navigate using the stars and how to sail the icy seas and how to love his wife, a girl promised to him since conception.

He thinks he already did love her, when he was a child and still the future Count of Lankiveil and she was the future Countess. He remembers her fondly with a burning behind his eyes and a tightness in his chest that he suppresses because that is a weakness he cannot afford. But sometimes when he’s alone, after a fight or a fuck or another filler, he allows himself to think of cold nights. Whale fur kept the two of them dry and warm in the snow as they made their way to the lighthouse. They’d race up the stairs and he would win every time because his legs were slightly longer and he could take two at a time and only trip once.

The door to the gallery was heavy, but he’d manage to open it before she could catch up with him. He would hold it open for her until she joined him outside, and they’d laugh at their mingling breath visible in the frigid air before leaning against the railing, uncaring of whether or not the old metal could hold their combined weight. She would point at which constellations were visible in the sky and list off the most memorable stars. Feyd would listen even though he already knew which constellations were out and every star in each one, not just the brightest or prettiest sounding, because he was the future Count of Lankiveil and he would need to know those things. But letting her talk meant he could watch her, admire her red nose, rosy cheeks, cerise smile, and messy hair.

Feyd can’t remember which stars she had chosen to name their children after, can’t even remember which constellations were visible on Lankiveil from the Rabban manse. Giedi Prime is far, surrounded by different constellations, different stars, and polluted with millennia of industry. Even if he looked to the sky, there wouldn’t be any stars to name.

He doesn’t think of stars in the arena. Or even the black sun and the colors it stole. He focuses on the blades in his hand, the drugged Atreides soldiers he is meant to kill, and Lady Margot Fenring. Except one of the soldiers isn’t drugged. It’s not really a problem, Feyd is an excellent fighter. Gladiator fights are mere public training matches for him. It’s been years since he struggled against anyone in a fight. But it’s unexpected, which means someone planned to catch him off guard. He would accuse Glossu if he thought his brother had the intelligence to come up with such a plan. It could only be his Uncle and that twisted Mentat of his.

The sober soldier’s movements are too exact, missing the sluggish, inaccurate movements of intoxication. If he were a lesser man he’d let his surprise affect his fighting, slip up, make a mistake, but he was trained for this. The fireworks go off, signaling his victory with inky explosions in the sky, all color and brightness consumed by the black hole sun, and Feyd represses the memories of his first fight—not in the arena, but at home. On Lankiveil, in the snow, him against Glossu.

Lady Margot Fenring proves to be an excellent comfort. She provides the necessary pain and pleasure while he’s free to relinquish control. But he’s grown too accustomed to the almost inhuman appearance of those on Giedi Prime. Their hairless, paper white skin, dilated pupils, androgynous figures. It’s easy to lose track of who is who, to pretend the pain and pleasure is entirely him, that he is whole. But Lady Margot Fenring doesn’t subscribe to the beauty standards of Giedi Prime. In the unnatural lighting of his chambers, he can see the pink of her skin, her pupil surrounded by her iris, and the peach fuzz on her arms.

When Lady Margot Fenring leaves, Feyd allows himself to remember the girl that would have been his wife. They would have been married by now. It would’ve been a winter wedding regardless of season because there was always a pileup of snow near the Rabban manse. Her dress would have been as white as the snow, made of silk and lined with whale fur to keep warm, and dripping in diamonds and pearls. She’d be a woman grown, bust and waist filled out, but her nose red, cheeks rosy, and her cerise colored lips curved in a smile. They’d consummate their marriage in the warmth of the Rabban manse and he’d have his own future Count of Lankiveil on the way.

Feyd can understand the economic allure of Arrakis, but actually being on the desert planet feels wrong. He was born on the snowy seaside, the complete opposite of Arrakis. Dry heat feels uncomfortable on his skin, reminding him of the warnings his parents told him about frostbite, becoming so cold you believe you're overheating. But his presence was necessary, otherwise his Uncle’s scheming for him to end up on the throne would all be for naught.

He’s not particularly worried when Arrakeen is attacked. When he’s rounded up with the Emperor and his people to meet the leader of the fremen, the one they call Muad’Dib, he allows the guards to take his weapons and ignores the one that openly glares at him with pure loathing. He stands at the back of the crowd, vaguely listening to the apparently not dead Paul Atreides bicker with the old crone before addressing the Emperor. It’s much the same drivel as before, until—

“Majesty, is there a Harkonnen among you?”

“I believe my entourage has been placed under the protection of your ducal word.”

And again Atreides begins his bickering with the Emperor, setting a trap until he gets what he wants.

“Kanly!”

Feyd has grown tired of this.

“Your father named his vendetta, Atreides. You call me a coward while you hide among your women and offer to send a lackey against me!”

There is no black hole sun on Arrakis to steal away the color, no blades in his hand to wield against inebriated flesh, no pleasure for comfort. Only pain.

The Emperor and his truthsayer discuss the rules of kanly. Atreides’ own people try to talk him out of the challenge.

“Is the Atreides ready?” Feyd called once the Emperor’s blade sat alone on the floor, everyone else cleared away for the ritual duel.

“May thy knife chip and shatter!” Atreides forwent the ritual words, gesturing for Feyd to pick up the Emperor’s blade.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd mocked, getting a feel for the knife in his hand.

“Shall we fight, cousin?” Atreides asked, cat-footing forward with his own blade in hand, crouched low to the floor.

“How beautifully you dance,” Feyd said as they began to circle each other, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain composed as he’s reminded of a frigid sea. “Have you been shriven?”

No response. Only blue within blue.

They circle each other.

He continues his taunts, earning only a smile from Atreides as they turn. Feyd leaps at him, feinting with his right hand only to switch the knife to his left. He tries not to remember her hand in his, switching so that she’d be farther away from the cliff face and the choppy waves crashing against the frozen rocks.

“Perhaps you think this dance prolongs your life a few moments,” Feyd said, standing still and straightening.

Atreides doesn’t attack, still hesitant.

“Why prolong the inevitable? You but keep me from exercising my rights over this ball of dirt.”

In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to leave Arrakis. He wanted to return to Lankiveil where he could rule as Count, wear whale fur-lined clothes without poison needles hidden in the fabric, and look for his children among the stars.

“Why don’t you speak?”

Somehow, even with the threat of death, Atreides managed to make a fight boring.

“You smile, eh?” Feyd asked, leaping mid sentence and catching Atreides’ left arm with the downflash of his blade.

The two return to circling each other, crouching low to the floor.

“That woman you were talking to over there. The little one. Is she something special to you? A pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?”

Feyd’s chest tightens as he sees the imagined white silk dress embellished with diamonds and pearls, a cerise smile, and her hair messily done up to make room for the fur capelet tied around her shoulders.

Atreides remains silent, smiling, and Feyd leaps forward, stabbing. Feinting slowness, Atreides managed to land a cut before Feyd jumped away, switching the knife in his hands.

Again, they begin to circle each other, watching. Atreides moving his knife to his left hand to match Feyd. Blue within blue, Feyd can see her smile frozen on her face, lips turning blue and the waves rising higher.

Feyd approaches Atreides, feinting right and under, until they’re pressed against each other, knife hands straining. Atreides forces them to turn right, barely missing the poison dart flipping out from Feyd’s belt, trapping himself beneath the Harkonnen.

Even though he’s the one speaking, Feyd isn’t quite sure what he’s saying. Something about the poison dart, most likely. But staring into the Atreides’ eyes of Ibad, Feyd only thinks of the girl that would’ve been his wife. Of his first fight in the snow, the rage he felt after his brother threw his betrothed aside carelessly, over the cliffside into the frozen, rocky waves. How his father tried to stop the beast, only to be killed himself, and the two brothers were left on the cliffside alone. Breathing ragged, bleeding, and their eyes burning with unshed, frozen tears.

His hair had been long then, he’s sure Glossu ripped out part of his scalp along with a lock of his dark hair when he first tackled him. He can still see her soaked to the bone lying broken on the rocks, so drenched and frozen was she that her whale fur coat had no chance of helping, her messy hair plastered to her graying skin, lips turned blue.

“I will not say it!” Atreides gasped, stunning Feyd out of his reverie.

Atreides used the fraction of an opening to find a weakness of balance in Feyd’s leg muscles. Suddenly their positions were switched, and Feyd was partially underneath Atreides, unable to turn due to his poison needle catching on the floor, and Atreides twisted his left hand free to plunge his knife up through Feyd’s jaw and into his brain.

His body sagged to the ground, lifeless. There was no black hole sun to hide the paling of his corpse, to liken his blood to spilled ink, to steal the color of the scene.

“Feyd!” A girlish voice snapped at him.

“You’re not even paying attention,” she sighed, leaning away from him on the balcony of the lighthouse.

“Then tell me again,” Feyd said, sliding along railing to be next to her again.

Her cerise colored lips curve back into a smile as her hand dashed out to grab his jaw to force his eyes to the stars. The underside of his jaw is warmed by the soft skin of her palm, her small fingers freezing fast in the weather now that they’re not sheltered by the pocket of her coat. Still, she doesn’t move her hand, waving the other one wildly at the sky, focusing his attention on the stars as she tries to convince him that Mirzam is the perfect name for their son.

[itskattkm]

Day & Night | Part II

Mabel (finestkind) x G!P reader

Warnings: violence, bruises, mentions of blood, junkies, bad translation :)

A/N: I think it’s even going to be more parts now :) hope you guys enjoy as always

Part 1, Part 3

I sighed and looked beside me to see that the space was empty "sure" I said disappointed and took a deep breath before I exhaled. My hands found their places on my face when I tried to cover it.

It was to good to be true. I should have know better... or maybe if I'm being honest with myself... I knew the truth. Why should Mabel even choose my place for "help" it was so obvious but i was totally blind.

I rubbed slight my eyes and looked to my open bedroom door. I felt suddenly so lost again. Somehow like I was at a wrong place at the wrong time. But mostly I felt unwanted.

So why did Mabel do what she did? Why out of sudden? And why did she leave? Well I could have a good answer to the last question but why did she even sleep with me then? I didn't understand.

I pulled the blanket over my shoulders and tried to get a clear head.

At some point around 11:00 in the morning I woke up again. This time I left my bed and took a long shower. After the shower, I turned on the TV so that I didn't have to drown in this silence in my apartment.

I ate some cereal and went to the bar around 1:00 p.m. to work. The day felt slow. Outside it was cold and slightly foggy. My shift was over in the evening. I decided to go to the pier like almost every day.

Now I entered the middle of the bridge and ran up the scaffolding "hi Maria" I said kindly to the slightly older lady who had her shift today.

"Hi y/n" come in... Today it's very fresh.

So I went into the cabin and sat down at the other end of the room. Like that I could observe the sea and was able do watch it through the window, stay dry and warmed up.

I took out my laptop and watched one of the online videos of my studies. In between, my gaze fell on my cell phone. I hoped to get a message from Mabel, but in vain. I sighed loudly as I turned my phone over slightly pissed.

Maria turned around in her wheelchair and looked at y/n worried "is everything okay y/n? Today it seems to be one of the less good days again?"

I nodded silently without looking at her. But since it was getting dark very slowly outside, I could see her reflection in the window. And then I suddenly saw it. A light in the distance. It flashed twice. I had to smile and took one of the larger flashlights when I left the cabin and ran out to the site.

I tried to show the boys that I was here. After not even three flashlight signals, the horn of the finestkind echoed back.

"The boys are back..." a part of me was happy because this meant that there would be fun evenings again, but another part in me was worried. What about Charlie?

After twenty minutes I went down and greeted the boys. Laughing, they called me

"Y/N Lighthouse!" I shook my head and said "you are so stupid guys" after they had all solid land under their feet, I greeted everyone with a hug.

"This time you've been away for a really long time, why?" I asked curiously.

Charlie began to explain "we have found a new route that allows us to make stops at other yards... that's why we will be on the road longer than usual in the future" I nodded "that sounds hard".

Tom chuckled "it's business"

I left the harbor with the boys. Following Tom and Costa a little further back with Charlie.

"Have you seen Mabel?" He asked me calmly. My heart began to race when I tried to answer him "yes... last time yesterday" Charlie nodded and seemed to be deep in his thoughts "was she okay?" He asked.

In my steps, I stopped and looked crookedly at him "what's wrong Charlie?" He turned around and scratched the back of his head "we sort of broke up"

I looked at him with wide eyes and almost a open mouth. On the one hand I was shocked, on the other hand I already thought about it and accordingly did not feel so bad after sleeping with her.

"What do you mean by sort of?" I asked seriously. Charlie smiled nervously "well... we now have this new strategy while fishing and that means that we will be even less at home... and I didn't want to do that to Mabel"

I shook my head

"Charlie... I understand your thoughts behind it but that's Mabel... she... she is-" I began, almost starting praise Mabel and Charlie interrupted me smiling "I know..."

I sighed "how did she handle it?" I asked worried.

Charlie raised his shoulders "I'm not sure... she was a little angry... but understood the reason" I nodded.

A thousand questions went through my head. Did she love him? Was she sad? Was she angry? What went through her head? How did she feel?

"Maybe I should have a look at her," said Charlie. My stomach turned around. But I doubted that Mabel would say anything about us, because as it seemed to me, she didn't seem to be interested in what happened between us.

"Maybe" I repeated quietly and looked at him and the other boys.

Days passed and everyday life quickly became my usual old routine. Online lectures whenever I could.

Later shifts in the bar and hanging out at the harbor. I still haven't had a message from Mabel. I had also given up to be honest. Charlie seemed to have visited her. He doesn't told me anything and honestly I didn't ask either.

I didn't want to know what was between them because I wouldn't have a chance anyway.

"Y/N! Another round of beer for us please!" Called the boys at the other end of the bar.

I wiped the bar and grabbed three bottles of beer. I ran over to them and put them at the table "please slow down today for once," I said laughing. "I don't feel like cleaning behind you guys" I shouted to them as I ran back to the counter "boss I'll get new beer in the back" I said and went to the storage room.

I didn't know what was happening while I was gone, within a few minutes I heard the rattling of glass, falling furniture and something that sounded like a brawl.

I immediately reached for the baseball bat I had near my locker and ran back to the bar.

Within seconds I saw what and who the problem was "you fucking asshole!" I shouted angrily and jumped over the counter. Skeemo was back with his junkie friends and had beaten Tom, Charlie and Costa up. Skeemo was just choking Charlie. I ran towards him from behind and hit him on the back of the head "fuck you!" I shouted angrily.

Skeemo let go of Charlie, who was now coughing on the floor. He cleverly looked at me when he scanned the back of his head and saw blood on his fingers "you fucking bitch" Skeemo hissed and then I saw red.

I didn't remember what happened afterwards. I only knew that I was questioned by the police after a team of paramedics checked my wounds.

If there was a secret about me, it was my uncontrollable anger and aggression. It was hard to get me to this point... but if you succeeded, it was hard to stop me. After I saw Skeemo, it came over me. Not only was he the reason for Mabel's injuries at the back then, but he had also whistled the boys....

After all the interrogation and a small visit to the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to go home.

My face hurted. My fists were beaten bloody and my ribs were slightly broken. I held back the pain. Something I knew too well. Something that made me feel alive in dark times.

"Thank you Y/N... what you did today... you should not be underestimated," Tom said when he took me off at home.

I looked at him with hidden pain "Charlie... Costa?"

Tom smiled slightly "they will recover" I nodded and slowly opened the door of his car. In the end, I had tried to mess with each of the junkies. They beat me... but they had it much... much worse then me. The ambulance was not called for me or the boys. It was called for Skeemo and his new gang.

I hoped they would die. But the possibility that they would survive and later die of drugs was higher.

"Take care of yourself Y/N" Tom called after me before I disappeared into my apartment.

I slightly held my left side where my ribs were damaged and moved towards my couch in slow painful steps. I wouldn't make it to bed. I bit firmly on my teeth when I tried to sit down and suppressed screams of pain. I held my breath and leaned back carefully. I closed my eyes and a tear escaped me.

The bruises on my face hurted. Probably everything had already turned purple. My hands were shaking. They were full of bruises and dried blood.

When it knocked on my door, I cursed the person behind it. I breathed heavily with pain when I supported myself with a trembling arm and walked so slowly to the door that the person began to knock again more and more impatiently.

I leaned against the wall exhausted and held my side as I opened the door only one gap to be careful.

"Y/N... hey- oh my God what happened?!" The next moment Mabel stood in front of me and held my face very carefully in her hands with a worried look. I squeezed my eyes in pain and breathed heavily as the pressure of my ribs pressed on my lungs.

"I'll help you..." she said calmly and gave me the feeling of security. Carefully she put my right arm around her shoulder and took me to my bedroom.

She held my hand tightly as I slowly sat down, I could only weakly suppress a painful moan. Mabel's dark eyes scanned my face and every other injury on my body. It seemed like she was falling from the clouds.

"I heard about a brawl in the bar but..." she began and stopped when I closed my eyes exhausted and lowered my head.

She went to her knees in front of me while resting her hands on my knees when she looked up to me worried.

She carefully touched my chin and lifted it. I opened my eyes and was now forced to look at her pitch black ones.

"What happened?" She whispered so quietly that I got goose bumps. I swallowed hard "can you... help me?" I whispered and looked slightly to the side. I was too weak to say more, but Mabel seemed to understand what I needed.

She helped me to lie down.

As soon as I lay on my back, Mabel covered me a little with my blanket, turned off the lights in my apartment and only turned on the small night light on my bedside table.

She disappeared from my room and came back with a glass of water and a pill. She put both on my bedside table and took off her jacket before she sat down with me on the bed "drink that... it helps against the pain" she said gently.

I breathed heavily and took the pill from her hand, I swallowed it down with water and tried to find some recovery.

Next I heard the sound of a plastic bag "fuck..." I hissed when I felt the burning pain on my ankles. Mabel had previously moistened a swab with alcohol to disinfect my bruised and blood-dried ankles.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered worriedly and continued cautiously.

Why was she here? And why was she so caring? Was Mabel interested in something for me?

My heart began to beat faster again at this thought.

"Skeet was suddenly in the bar with his junkies... and it escalated" I explained weakly. Mabel nodded silently, the way she looked at me... she hadn't looked at me since the day we met like that. This time I knew... that she really looked at me and perceived me.

"As I know you... I assume that Skeet and the others look worse..." said Mabel with a grin that brought out her dimples.

A smile escaped me. Even if it hurt, it still felt good.

I put my head aside and watched Mabel carefully take care of my hands. Her touches felt so gentle and good... I almost felt safe.

"Feels like it was yesterday when you beat up the junkie because he wanted more drugs from me" Mabel began with a smile.

I had to laugh a little and closed my eyes when it hurt. "... yes I remember... that day I was looking for trouble... and this guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time" Mabel grinned wider when she remembered.

At that time, as always, Mabel had to make the deals for her mother. It was New Years Eve and most people went crazy anyway. But when Mabel had just made a handover, the junkie wanted more from her and started going crazy. He grabbed her by the arms and yelled at her, high from the drugs he had taken before. Before the guy could get closer to her y/n came around and had boxed the guy so hard that he was immediately unconscious. That evening she was slightly drunk and was looking for a reason to hit someone. Luckily for her, she found Mabel and the junkie.

"You okay? Looked like you were in trouble" y/n had said at the time. Mabel looked impressed at the unconscious junkie.

Y/n grinned wide and held out her hand "I am y/n" Mabel was fascinated by her at the time. How could anyone be so harmless and at the same time too unpredictable. She laughed and shook her hand "Mabel... you always walk around and punch people like that?"

Y/n had a sparkle in her eyes that caught Mabel's attention right away "nope... but i was looking for some trouble today so..."

Mabel smirked seductive and said "then it's your luck... I'm always surrounded by trouble"

That's how they met. In the chaos of violence. A miracle.

"Where you ghosting me?" asked Mabel with a dirty grin as she held my hand in hers.

I looked at her seriously "you're joking, aren't you? I would rather say that you ghosted me..." I said seriously.

Even if she was here now and we shared a moment of the past... I was still disappointed and even a little angry.

Mabel continued to smile.

"Sorry..." she whispered and lay down next to me on the bed the next moment.

She watched my reactions and when I didn't show any, she supported herself against her arm and carefully stroked the bruises on my left cheek.

"You should rest now..." she whispered and gently stroked with her fingertips my jaw as she lay down closer to me.

I began to feel calmer, relaxed and more secure. The pain was not as strong as a few minutes before, probably the painkillers from Mabel had helped. Slowly she put her hand around my neck and began to scratch me.

I felt goose bumps all over my body and my eyelids slowly felt heavy. My head was lying to the right side and I slowly fell into an exhausted sleep.

After Y/N fell asleep, Mabel watched her calm face. The bruises had turned purple. What did you see in me? Mabel asked herself as she continued to caress her neck. She never thought to see y/n in such a state. It hurt... it really did badly and showed her what a bad friend she was. Y/n had always cared. She didn't cared what people said about others... she always made an impression on herself. She was never reproachful... she was always friendly, showed interest in others and was always there. But who was there for her? Who listened to her thoughts and worries? Who was interested in her? Who cared for her?

"Im right by your side" I whispered as I continued to stroke her neck and carefully gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. Y/n had fallen asleep deeply and Mabel didn’t had planned to leave y/n side. She wouldn’t wake up alone this time.

[cool-fancier]

A Digital Dance of Hearts

Synopsis: In a fascinating Instagram Live, you and Bada intrigued fans with warmth and sincerity through humorous banter, passionate interactions, and true love.

Word count: 3k

In an array of your shared history with Bada, 2021 represented a significant chapter—a year that saw a silent dance transformed into a musical symphony of love.

Your paths had crossed in the most unexpected of ways, a collision of worlds within Seoul's thriving dance scene. Bada had been a source amidst the sea of dancers, a power that caught your attention from the first interaction.

The relationship between you and Bada was created  during a dance showcase, an event filled with the energy of skill and creativity. She danced with a grace that appeared to defy gravity, her movements  creating a story of passion and emotion that spoke to the audience.

After the show, among the abundance of praise and honours, fate drew you both into each other's circle.  A conversation began, a meeting of minds that extended beyond the realm of dance moves and choreography.

Days passed into evenings, spent in the quiet corners of small cafes and on Seoul's bustling streets. Laughter became the soundtrack to your conversations, and the unspoken connection grew into a common understanding that extended beyond the dance floor.

The turning point arrived during a quiet evening stroll through the city park—a symphony of crickets accompanying your footsteps. Bada glanced to you with a vulnerability that connected with the silent wishes racing within your own heart, her eyes mirroring the glittering city lights.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you," she began, her voice a gentle melody in the peaceful  atmosphere.

You stopped, the suspense evident in your stare as you encouraged her to continue.

"I feel something special between us, something beyond the dance studio," she admitted, her earnestness like a lighthouse in the dark. "I'd like to look into it further." Would you... be open to that?"

The question hovered in the air, tinged with hope and fear.  Yet, your heart whispered a resounding 'yes' before your lips formed the words, sealing an unspoken agreement to embark on a journey of love and discovery together.

And so, in the glow of city lights, amidst the symphony of crickets, you and Bada began on a romance that grew with each shared moment and every whispered confession.

Fast ahead through the seasons, and your relationship with Bada became stronger—a tapestry of shared dreams, worthwhile conversations, and stolen moments amidst the bustling cityscape.

As the year progressed, the world around you changed, but your relationship remained a constant refuge—a safe haven for both love and creation.

It was a peaceful evening, with the lovely hues of sunset painting the sky, when an unexpected decision was made. You and Bada found yourselves on the rooftop of your favorite spot in the city—a secluded haven that overlooked the twinkling skyline.

The mood was ethereal, with the city's symphony humming distantly against the backdrop of a sunset-kissed sky. Bada's laughter, carried by the breeze, echoed like a mellifluous melody as she turned to you with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

"This feels like one of those movie moments, doesn't it?" Her voice was full of affection and love, she remarked.

You chuckled, the situation being suggestive of a romantic film scene. "Yes, it does. But it's even better because it's true."

The lighthearted banter gave way to a peaceful silence, the air thick with unspoken feelings. Bada's eyes, shimmering like orbs reflecting the dying sunshine, expressed volumes—a subtle invitation to embrace the unsaid feelings whirling between you.

Without words, she closed the distance between you, her gaze a gentle caress against your skin. As she held your face in her hands, the world appeared to stop, a subtle comfort in the delicate touch of her thumb against your cheek.

Lips met in a lovely, secure kiss amid the golden colours of a sunset-kissed sky—a union that echoed the symphony of feelings that had bloomed between you. It was a treasured moment, a beautiful dance of affection and longing sealed with the tenderness of a shared bond.

The city below continued its lovely hum, oblivious to the private scene happening on the rooftop sanctuary. Bada's sensitive touch, the softness of her lips on yours, spoke volumes about the love that bloomed in the quiet moments you spent.

Finally, as the kiss gently drew to a close, you and Bada remained in the embrace of the sunset's glow—a silent understanding lingering in the air, a promise of a love that continued to bloom with every passing moment.

— — — — — — —

Bada was the dancer who captured viewers with her beauty and grace, especially after her awe-inspiring journey on "Street Woman Fighter," a revolutionary experience that launched her into the spotlight.

Your relationship with Bada had been a hidden gem in the tale of her journey to popularity.  Bada's rise had been nothing short of meteoric since her Street Woman Fighter days. Her grace, talent, and presence on the dance floor captivated people and earned her a cult of devoted followers who eagerly awaited every move she made, both on and off the stage.

Though fans were aware of your relationship with Bada through shared dancing videos and subtle indications on social media, it remained a matter of intrigue and interest. Fans yearned to see your worlds collide—the shared laughter, gentle glances, and love that formed the canvas of your relationship.

In response to the never-ending questions and outpourings of affection, the decision was taken to hold a joint Instagram Live session that would offer a glimpse into Bada the dancer's connected life as well as the hidden story of her love—of your love story.

You and Bada prepared for the live session with your hearts racing. Your apartment's cosy environment became the setting for this digital rendezvous—a venue that witnessed both the burning passion of dance and the emotional moments exchanged between the two of you.

"Okay, are we ready for this?" Bada asked, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm and a hint of fear.

You smiled, feeling a rush of love for her. "Absolutely! We've got this. Just be yourself, and everything will flow naturally."

Bada took a seat near you with a nod of agreement, the anticipation evident in the air. The screen filled with hearts and a rush of greetings from excited fans joining the stream as the 'Go Live' button was hit.

"Hey, everyone!" You greeted, your voice full of passion and love. "We're so thrilled to be here with you all today."

Bada chimed in, her unique charm shining through. "Hello, everyone!" This is something we've been looking forward to. Let's having a good time!"

The comment section erupted with a colorful array of emojis and messages, fans expressing their excitement at the prospect of spending time with you and Bada.

@DanceDreamers: Ahh, finally! So excited for this live session! 🌟

@BadaLoversClub: You both look amazing! Can't wait to hear your stories! 🥰

The questions started flowing in, each one containing the fans' interest and adoration—a monument to the influence the two of you had on their lives. You and Bada shared stories from your dance adventure, memories from the early days when your relationship developed among shared steps and synchronised moves.

As the talk progressed, you and Bada found yourselves in your own little realm, where witty banter, shared looks, and unsaid gestures built an image of your love for one other.

Lost in a playful back-and-forth about the best dance moves, you and Bada exchanged teasing remarks, chuckling at each other's antics. The comments section mirrored the audience's delight, cooing at the natural chemistry you both exuded.

@DanceMagic: Stop being so cute, my heart can't take it! 😭❤️

@BadaisBaby: Look at how big of a baby Bada is when she's with you! 😂👶

Occasionally, amidst the laughter and anecdotes, you and Bada would share a glance that spoke volumes—a silent language of love that needed no words.

Then, a fan's question caught your attention, causing a wave of nostalgia to wash over you.

@NostalgiaDreams: How did your first date go? Please share!

Your eyes met Bada's, a silent agreement to recount the memory that had etched itself into the tapestry of your relationship. You began to remember about that amazing day with a pleasant smile—a stroll through the city streets, impromptu dancing sessions in parks, and a shared dinner at an enticing café.

Bada's eyes shone with affection as you told the story, her laughter ringing across the room as she offered her own fun commentary to the tale.

The comment section transformed into a cascade of heart emojis and exclamations, fans expressing admiration for the story that felt like a scene from a romantic movie.

@RomanticSouls: This is the definition of a perfect date! 🌹✨"l

@LoveIsInTheAir: Can you two be any more adorable? I'm in tears! 😭💖

Moments of tenderness intertwined with playful banter, creating a beautiful symphony of love and camaraderie. There were instances where you and Bada, engrossed in your own conversation, momentarily forgot the live aspect of the stream—a testament to the comfort and familiarity you shared.

The comments overflowed with observations of your interactions.

@AdorableCouples: Are they even aware they're live? They're lost in their own world! 🥺💕

@SoftLoveVibes: Look at how they look at each other! My heart can't handle it! 😍❤️

The live session had already been a mix of playful banter and heartfelt exchanges, but there was always room for more interactions and conversations. You and Bada settled back, eager to engage with the fans and each other in a more personal manner.

A question popped up in the comments section, catching your eye.

@DanceEnthusiastforY/N: What's the most memorable dance routine you've performed together?

You glanced at Bada, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, that's a tough one! Remember that performance at the charity event last year?"

Bada's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, yeah! That was incredible. The energy in the room was electric, and dancing with you felt like pure magic."

Fans flooded the comments with emojis and excited exclamations, expressing their excitement to hear more about the memorable performance.

@DanceLoversUnite: Tell us more! What made it so special?

Bada chuckled, reminiscing about the event. "Well, it was for a cause we both deeply care about, and the routine was a fusion of different styles. But the best part was dancing side by side with you. We were in perfect sync that day."

You nodded in agreement. "Definitely. It was one of those moments where everything just clicked, and the emotions poured into every movement."

The fans' reactions flooded in, their comments brimming with admiration for the connection you shared both on and off the dance floor.

As the conversation flowed seamlessly from one topic to another, there were moments of candidness between you and Bada—moments where the live session seemed to capture genuine snippets of your everyday interactions.

Bada leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey, remember the time you tried to teach me that intricate salsa move and I ended up stepping on your toes?"

You chuckled, the memory causing a playful twinkle in your eye. "How could I forget? It was a dance lesson turned into a comedy sketch!"

Fans chimed in with comments of their own, reminiscing about your shared dance moments and expressing their adoration for the playful camaraderie between you and Bada.

@DanceLover_23: You two are hilarious together! 😂❤️

@SalsaSquad: Even stepping on toes, you're still a perfect match! 🕺💃

In the midst of the playful banter, there were moments of tenderness—a glance shared between you and Bada that spoke volumes, a touch that lingered for an extra second, unnoticed by the rest but carrying an unspoken promise of affection.

Then, a question surfaced, shifting the tone to a more personal note.

@SoftHeartY/NBada: What's the one thing you admire the most about each other?

Your gaze softened as you turned to her. "You first."

She took a moment, your eyes reflecting genuine admiration. "I admire your strength, Y/N. Not just as a dancer, but as a person. Your resilience, your dedication to your craft, and your unwavering support for those you care about—it's truly inspiring."

Your cheeks tinted with a subtle blush, a soft smile gracing her features. "Thank you, love. That means a lot."

Encouraged by the heartfelt exchange, Bada returned the question. "And for me?"

You didn't hesitate. "Your passion, Bada. Your passion for dance, for life—it's infectious. The way you pour your heart into everything you do, it's something I've always admired."

The comments section filled with an outpouring of admiration and heart emojis, fans expressing their appreciation for the genuine affection shared between you and Bada.

@PassionUnleashed: My heart can't handle this! 😭❤️

@LoveAndDance: You two are goals! 🌟💕

The questions from fans ranged from dance-related inquiries to personal reflections, and the comment section buzzed with excitement as you and Bada delved deeper into your shared world.

A particularly endearing question popped up, catching both your attention.

@Soft4Love4Vibes: Fans often say Bada becomes a total baby when she's with you. Is that true? How do you guys balance the leader mode with Bebe and the adorable Bada we see with you?

You chuckled at the question, a knowing glance exchanged between you and Bada. "Ah, the infamous leader mode versus baby Bada. Care to explain, love?"

Bada grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, you see, with Bebe and the crew, I'm in full-on leader mode. It's all about coordinating, planning, and making sure everything runs smoothly. But when I'm with you, it's a different story. I get to drop the tough act and just be myself—a bit of a baby, as they say."

Fans flooded the comments section with playful remarks, expressing their affection for the duality they observed in Bada's personality.

@BabyBada: Bada, you're such a softie! 🍼💖

@LeadershipGoalsBebe: We love both leader Bada and baby Bada! 🌟👶

Bada, embracing the playful banter, continued, "I mean, who wouldn't want to be a bit of a baby when they're with someone as amazing, right?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the comment section filling with emojis of laughter and hearts.

@AdorableCouple: Can we just talk about how cute they are together? I'm melting! 😭❤️

As the conversation meandered through various topics, fans got a glimpse into the playful dynamics between you and Bada. There were moments where Bada couldn't resist stealing a glance at you, a subtle smile playing on her lips—a stark contrast to the leader mode she often embodied with Bebe and the crew.

A fan asked, @LoveGazing: What's your favorite inside joke or nickname you have for each other?

You shared a conspiratorial look with Bada before responding. "Well, we have this inside joke about Bada's 'secret talent'—her uncanny ability to quote almost any K-drama line on command."

Bada chuckled, shaking her head in mock embarrassment. "It's true. I might have a slight addiction to K-dramas, and now I've got a walking encyclopedia over here as a witness."

The fans, in on the joke, flooded the comments with laughter and playful emojis.

@DramaQueenBada: Guilty as charged! 😂🎬

As the Instagram Live session continued, there were moments where the two of you became lost in your own world, a shared glance turning into a cascade of laughter that seemed to momentarily forget the virtual audience.

@DreamyDuet: Are they even aware they're live? They're like in their own romantic bubble! 😍🌈

@LoveStruck: My heart! This is like a scene from a rom-com! ❤️✨

The playful banter and affectionate glances continued, each moment drawing fans deeper into the genuine connection you and Bada shared.

Then, a question sparked a more contemplative tone.

@SoulfulDance: What's the biggest lesson you've learned from each other, whether it's about dance or life in general?

Bada turned to you, her expression thoughtful. "You first, lovey."

You took a moment, reflecting on the profound lessons intertwined with your shared journey. "From Bada, I've learned the beauty of perseverance. Her dedication to her craft, the way she approaches challenges—it's incredibly inspiring. She taught me that passion, coupled with hard work, can create something truly extraordinary."

Bada's eyes softened, a genuine smile gracing her features. "And you've taught me the importance of balance. Life isn't just about dance and work; it's about finding joy in the simple moments, in shared laughter, and in building a life together. You've brought so much warmth and balance into my world."

The comment section transformed into a digital applause, fans expressing admiration for the wisdom and love shared between you and Bada.

@InspiringCouple: This is relationship goals right here! 🌟👩‍❤️‍👩

@WisdomInLove: Learning from each other—now that's the epitome of a healthy relationship! ❤️🙌"

As the Instagram Live session approached its conclusion, a sense of warmth and gratitude lingered in the digital space—a collective appreciation for the genuine moments, the laughter, and the glimpses into the beautiful love story you and Bada shared.

"Thank you all for joining us today!" you expressed, your voice carrying a blend of gratitude and genuine warmth. "This has been an incredible experience, and we can't wait to do it again. Your love means the world to us."

The screen filled with hearts and farewell messages, a digital send-off that echoed even after the live session ended. As the virtual space quietened, you and Bada shared a moment of quiet contentment, a reflection of the beautiful connection you shared—a connection that thrived in the midst of adoring fans, playful banter, and the warmth of a love that danced to the rhythm of its own melody.

Amidst the digital celebration of your relationship, you and Bada found solace in the comfort of each other's presence—a reminder of the beautiful connection that blossomed amidst the rhythms of dance and the whispers of shared dreams.

As the live session drew to a close, a collective sense of gratitude lingered—a mutual appreciation for the unwavering support and the chance to share a snippet of your world with the fans.

[harveyspictures]

Hike to Race Point Lighthouse, August 8, 2023. We got caught by the incoming tide, had to wade back through waist deep water at one point.

[cosmichahn]

LOVE GROWS

Din Djarin x GN!Reader —☆

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ about: Grogu wanted to see you, and frankly, he isn't the only one who does.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ warning/s: none that's disturbing! (no canon typical violence) this oneshot will include love confessions, so yes. (was listening to love grows by edison lighthouse while writing this.) a few mando'a words, but the translations will be shown at the end!

ִִֶֶָָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: 2.2k

ִִֶֶָָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ note/s: hello! it takes a while for me to finish writing, and it's my first time writing for din djarin. this might be a little out of character, but i swear i'm trying to write properly for him.

The distant cooing of Grogu echoed around the ship, pointing at a small crown made of dried and preserved flowers that hung near his hammock. His big black eyes pleading.

It's a free moment anyway, and it's just little Grogu and his dad lurking through the galaxies. Only the engine of the ship functioning is heard, along with his little coos, begging for his father's attention.

Din looks behind him, leaving the controls on autopilot for him to go to his little one. He stands up, seeing Grogu patiently waiting for him to get closer as his little hands wave over the flower crown that felt as if it was protecting him from his nightmares; seeing as it's hanging by his bed.

He can't resist the little bundle of joy's pleas, and he of course will bring him to one of the places that bring the two of them that feeling of home and comfort, adamant that Din refuses to admit it, Endor.

The Mandalorian loves seeing his child happy and comfortable; if Grogu was happy, so was he. Just the two of them against the world… but lately Grogu seems off. Din stressed over not knowing what was going through his mind that sometimes he hoped to have the ability of a jedi to communicate and at least see Grogu's mind.

On the way to Endor, Din welcomes Grogu to sit on his lap, even leaving a little seatbelt for him so he wouldn't fall. It's a quiet journey with only the little one humming a tune that showed his excitement. A tune you once sung to him as he slept in your arms.

Soon enough, the two touch down at the Forest Moon of Endor.

Grogu starts to race Din to the exit, his little feet being too fast. Beneath the helmet, he just smiles. The twinkle in his little Grogu's eyes made his heart swell.

It's evening as they arrive, so patiently, the little one waits for Din outside of the ship. “You're too excited, kid." He chuckles, following behind as Grogu heads for the familiar little cottage that felt like home. It wasn't their house per se, but the person who lived in it was what made it feel like home.

“Grogu?" The warm and familiar voice greets, opening the door before he can even knock with his little hands. 

You. A Jedi.

Wind chimes echo and twirl through his big green ears as he swiftly hugs and tugs on your leg. You carefully pick him up as he snuggles in closer. “We've not seen each other in a while, little one. D'you miss me already?" He nods, tapping on your cheek, engulfing in the warmth.

“Sometimes I think he likes you more than me." Din jokes, crossing his arms afterwards. Somewhere lingers his smile. You can feel it. But you've not seen it, sadly.

“Mando, Mando… He just missed me." You shrug, inviting him to join you inside.

As you hold Grogu in your right arm, the first place you head to is the kitchen, remembering that you just made a batch of wildberry pie. Surely this would satisfy his appetite. A body so small, an appetite so big.

You sit him on one of the chairs, placing the plate of pie in front of him. His smile grows, making his little teeth visible. Before taking a bite, he looks at you happily, giving you a thanks.

While he is busy eating and enjoying his meal, you sit beside Din who was quietly sitting on the couch. 

“So," You give him a suspicious but cheeky look. “this is the third time this month. Odd, isn't it?" Usually they would go here once a month, or sometimes rarely as bounties were always happening.

“Grogu just wanted to see you." Din replies, feeling an invisible lump in his throat before handing you an envelope with little drawings on it that was definitely Grogu's doing. “I have something for you by the way. Well, we." Indicating him and Grogu.

You take it carefully, appreciating the fact that the crayons you gifted the last time they were here got well used. Grogu tried to eat it once, leaving you and Din in a panicked state.

“You sure that's not the only reason?" Teasing him as you poke his armored side a little bit.

“...Yes."

“Ok." It's soft how you said it, and you actually do miss him and want to see him. You miss him everyday which was an overstatement, but you love it every time he and Grogu were here. “Well, it's never too bad to miss a friend."

Remembering the scraps you found when you were looting a couple of abandoned places, you stand up. “Oh! Wait here, I have something for you too." He gets surprised by your sudden movement, but he just waits patiently for you anyway.

“It's a music thing that I found, you just have to insert it in your ship's radio thingy… If you have one of those of course." It looked like a port that could play telegrams like the ones he gets from reports from Karga or Cara. “I designed a little music box to enhance its sound and liven up a room." Ok, you are psyched to let Din see this item you made, and frankly he isn't complaining. It even catches Grogu's attention as he was about to finish his entire plate.

From a random storage room, you pull the music box out then insert the port, the beat of an unfamiliar tune playing. “I don't even know who Rosemary is." You say, seeing Grogu start to sway to the music.

Oh, but love grows where my Rosemary goes…

“So, Din, what do you think?" Questioning him as you get all excited. “Is it nice? It's nice, right?"

“The kid likes it. It's nice." He crosses his arms, the distant light glinting from his helmet as he nods.

The little jedi walks to your leg as he lifts his arms up, wanting you to carry him. Upon shaking your hips to the beat, Grogu looks at his dad.

“No," Din says, crossing his arms. He makes an attempt to intimidate the both of you, but instead, you and Grogu look at each other then giggle. “I will not dance."

Grogu can feel a small, sly smile that begins to grow on Din's face.

A couple of moments pass with you constantly having to carry Grogu because he wanted to dance in your arms and teasing Din when the two of you saw him shake his hips a little bit. Those couple of moments left Grogu tired after a whole day in the hyperspace, longing to see you then relieving that longing shortly.

Din carries Grogu in his arms, leading him into your bedroom where a small hammock hangs beside your bed. Just for him. For Grogu.

Afterwards, you and Din talk in the kitchen, sitting across from each other in the dining area.

“So, that was fun.” You smile, looking at the cup of juice swirling in your hand. It was an exhausting whole day for you, running around doing errands, and ending your day with a surprise arrival by the two people you would trust your life with when this whole galaxy arrived, was the best way of resting from a draining day.

Din knew that when he got Grogu, he knew little to nothing of becoming a father, let alone that of a child who was to only be a bounty for him. But when time passed, the longer he spent moments with Grogu, he knew that he could do it. Or at least try to. The Child wasn’t the only one who benefited and learned from the situation and days they’ve been together as Din also learned in ways which he kept mostly to himself. He wasn’t alone. He’s not alone anymore.

Meeting you was an accident to him, but it was a good accident. It was an evening a couple of years ago where the Razor Crest landed near your house, obviously disrupting your peace. It was a tiring day like this and you just wanted to rest, but it was pouring heavily. You kept your guard up, of course, upon hearing a knock that you assumed was from the recently crashed ship.

You looked annoyed, but still asked him of his intentions. Apparently his ship had a couple of malfunctions where he needed a few parts. Luckily you had extra scrapped stuff that you were about to give out to some Jawas that would visit the place in a few days. A couple of the pieces were what he needed, and you just sold it to him.

He left you that same evening, meeting you accidentally once more at one of the bars where he actually was about to catch a bounty. The rest was a loop of meeting each other in surprising places and somewhat unconventional places until the two of you became friends. Not close friends, but still friends.

“It was fun.” He nods, seeing a glint from his helmet, the kitchen light reflecting on his beskar. He’s quiet, primarily keeping his words short even after knowing each other for quite a couple of years now.

No one says anything after that. It's a comfortable silence between you and Din, like always. You just look at him and wonder what he's thinking of right now. Tilting your head a little on the side while you settle your cup on the table, you furrow your eyebrows.

“Why are you looking at me like that?" Din asks suddenly, tilting his head the same way you tilted yours.

“Nothing."

There's a sense of longing that always went around your head. A longing for him, for some reason. You want him, although for certain he does not want you the same way. You already settle with an early heartbreak, and yet you want to risk every year you've spent seeing him, wanting him to be aware of what you really feel.

“There's something I have to tell you." If now is not the time, then surely that time will never come. It's a risk you're willing to take. “Follow me."

You lead him behind your house where a big tree sprouted in the middle with evergreen leaves, a couple of blue and violet leaves. The atmosphere looked warm, lights illuminating from your house.

“What is it that you want to say?" Din stands near the tree, you follow to stand opposite of him. He anticipates on what you have to say, truthfully he wants to hear such things from you.

It's never common for him to experience such attachment the way Grogu has, but something about those years of meeting you felt as if though he never wants to stop seeing you. He doesn't want to lose you in spite of the fact that he never was yours, nor were you his.

You're a Jedi. He's a Mandalorian. No amount of judgment could withhold such a partnership. Unless he's willing to risk it, unless you're willing to risk it.

Din can't shy away from the fact that his love grows. It continues to do so, and it blooms everyday. He is not admitful of this. Perhaps the vulnerability he is to display to you would give you a sign. You, to him, are different from the rest; with the exception of Grogu, of course. Din knows you would understand that.

“Din, I would go through the deep and dark undergrounds of Mandalore's ruins if it meant that your happiness would be the reward." You clear your throat, feeling that invisible lump that you want to cough out. “You know that, right?"

He grew silent. You immediately regret this. Under all of that hard exterior, that stoic stance, his covered face, is a soft, gentle person.

“I-" The flame in your chest is about to burst, each pump of your heart is firing your body up. Palms sweaty, skin tingling, you don't notice the slight yet noticeable trembling of your body. “Din, I-"

“Cyar'ika," Your eyes grow wide at him, your breaths still unkempt, your eyebrows filled with worry and shame. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."

A slight chuckle of nervousness left your lips, your eyes a bit panicked, relieved, but why? “Din, you know I don't understand Mando'a."

“You're lying." He's right. You've been secretly studying Mando'a ever since he gifted you a box of tools after one of his bounties. It's not the most romantic or symbolistic gift, but Din knew what you liked; he kept mental notes of every detail about yourself that you've talked about.

Although you were learning the language in secret, you've slipped a few times. He's heard you speak in Mando'a at times where you've fallen asleep in his ship whenever you joined him every now and then. Din found it cute.

“Yes, I learned Mando'a." You admit, a little embarrassed. Your hands start to cover your face. “It just…It made me feel closer to you."

You feel his hands touch yours that cover your face. “Cyar'ika, every memory of you makes me feel as if I'm just a step away." It was true. Din felt closer to you with every scene of your beautiful smile, your natural self that had grease and dirt all over from fixing things and scavenging. He adores you.

Din pulls your hands away from your face, holding them both gently as his thumbs circled your palms. He tilted his head to you so as you did, your forehead touching his helmet.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Din." (I love you, Din)

[writingduhh]

Jschlatt || Beach House

This was requested!! Thanks so much for the lovely idea! ❤️

“could i request a Jschlatt x reader set in like lunch club era and schlatts rlly awkward and always blushing around reader 🤭”

In the cozy beach house where Schlatt and his friends had gathered for a weekend getaway, an atmosphere of laughter and camaraderie enveloped the group. The waves crashed gently outside as the group played games, and shared stories, but amidst the fun and chaos, there was something Schlatt simply couldn't ignore—the enchanting presence of Y/N.

Y/N embodied everything Schlatt admired—smart, funny, and incredibly kind. Every time they graced the room, his heart performed a lively waltz, and his cheeks turned the deepest shade of red.

Y/N had always been on Schlatt's mind, but now that they were all spending time together, his crush was impossible to ignore. He couldn't help but feel flustered every time they were near, and it seemed like everyone else in the group had picked up on his feelings—everyone except Y/N.

On the first day of the trip, the sun beamed its blissful rays across the ground while a gentle breeze caressed the air. The perfect weather prompted the group's decision to head to the beach.

"Who's ready to go?" You asked, emerging from the bathroom, clad in a swimsuit that momentarily left Schlatt spellbound.

He couldn't help but stare as you entered the room, your confidence and smile shining like a lighthouse, causing Schlatt's heart to race.

"I'm ready to go, and I've got the cooler packed with drinks and snacks," Ted grinned, motioning toward the cooler in his hands.

"I've got a speaker for some music," Cooper added.

"Y/N, do you need help carrying anything?" Schlatt bashfully offered.

"Sure! You could carry the umbrella and chairs,"

Eagerly, he grabbed the umbrella while holding a few beach chairs under his arm, following you out to the car. Together, they loaded up the car.

"Thanks for helping me, you're such a sweetheart," You grinned, playfully leaning into his shoulder.

"Of course, it's no problem," he responded, attempting to keep his cool. On the inside, however, he was a delightful mess, utterly flustered by their touch.

Together, the group squeezed into the car, leaving no room for you, prompting Ted's playful suggestion.

"Hey, Y/N, you could sit on Schlatt's lap," Ted suggested, earning laughter and smirks from the rest of the group.

"You can come sit, I don't mind," Schlatt remarked, giving you warm smile as he patted his knee.

Accepting his offer, you nestled into the car and onto his lap, completely unaware of Schlatt's tomato-red face.

"Thanks for letting me sit here," You softly laughed.

"Of course! Do you mind if I, uh, put my arms around you?" He asked, his arms encircling your waist with a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone.

"That's totally fine," You assured, their heart fluttering as he held them, creating an atmosphere charged with unspoken attraction.

The car ride was filled with cheerful singing, plans for beach activities, and teasing about Y/N sitting on Schlatt's lap, all contributing to the tantalizing atmosphere.

Once at the beach, everyone disembarked, collecting their belongings. As he had done earlier, Schlatt assisted you with your items, searching for the perfect spot on the beach.

"How about there?" Schlatt suggested, pointing to a lovely clearing on the beach, his tone containing a touch of charming assurance.

The group voiced their unanimous approval, but the chemistry between Schlatt and Y/N was undeniable.

After setting up an umbrella, chairs, and coolers, everyone set out for a day of beachside fun.

Sitting in the shade, Schlatt noticed you struggling to apply sunscreen to their back, an opportunity he seized with a flirtatious smile.

"Would you like some help there, Y/N?" Schlatt offered with a suggestive glint in his eye.

"Yeah, that would be great," You bashfully admitted, adding a hint of coyness to the mix.

"Turn around," he commanded with a dash of authority, gently rubbing the lotion onto your back. His touch was deliberate and affectionate, causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine.

In that moment, the unspoken attraction between you two became impossible to ignore. You couldn't help but blush as you felt Schlatt's hands glide across their back. These feelings had been there for some time, silently acknowledged but never confessed, and they both knew it. But the allure of what could be was too becoming too captivating to resist.

Under the warm sun and with the soothing sounds of the ocean in the background, the flirtatious banter between the two of you take on a life of its own. As you all relaxed in the beach chairs, Schlatt, who was seated next to you, couldn't resist the temptation to continue their playful exchange.

With a sly grin, he said, "You know, Y/N, I must say this beach trip just got a whole lot better with you here."

Your cheeks flushed as they responded, "Well, Schlatt, it wouldn't be the same without you either."

Ted, who was lying in a nearby beach lounger, chimed in with a mischievous glint in his eye, "You two seem to be having a great time. Schlatt, should we start taking bets on when you'll finally confess your feelings to Y/N?"

Schlatt's face turned even redder, but he managed to quip, "Oh, come on, Ted. We're just good friends enjoying the beach together."

You chuckled and leaned in a little closer, their tone filled with playful teasing. "Is that so, Schlatt? Friends don't usually rub sunscreen on each other's backs."

Schlatt's heart raced as he considered the implications of your words. With a sheepish grin, he replied, "Well, that's just being a helpful friend, isn't it?"

The group erupted in laughter, and the playful atmosphere continued as you enjoyed the day at the beach. But beneath the laughter and jokes, the unspoken connection between you and Schlatt grew stronger, and it was clear to everyone that there was something more than friendship blooming under the sun's embrace.

After an eventful day at the beach, the group returned to their beach house, a mixture of sun-kissed and tired, with the golden hues of sunset painting the room in warm, fading light. Laughter, saltwater-soaked hair, and sandy feet filled the air as they entered, a sense of satisfaction permeating the room.

Exhausted and ready to unwind, they exchanged their swimsuits for comfy clothes. Hoodies and sweatpants replaced bikinis and trunks, and the group gathered in the living room, settling onto the oversized couch.

Yawns and sighs of contentment filled the room as they made themselves comfortable. Ted, Cooper, and the others found their spots on the couch and within moments, their eyes were glued to the TV screen as they picked a movie for the evening.

As the film started, the room fell into a cozy hush, the only sounds being the characters on the screen and the occasional popcorn crunch.

However, as the night progressed you became aware of the chill in the as the air.

Schlatt noticed your discomfort and, with a warm smile, he offered, "Are you cold? You can come closer, you know."

You hesitated for a moment, but the temptation of warmth and comfort won out. You shifted closer to Schlatt, who wrapped his arm around them, pulling them gently toward him.

Throughout the movie, You and Schlatt found yourselves nestled together, their bodies comfortably intertwined, legs entwined under a shared blanket. The room was filled with a sense of togetherness and silent connection, only the glow of the screen illuminating their features.

As the night wore on, the others started to drift off to sleep, one by one. The living room grew quieter, and some headed to their respective rooms.

Feeling the weight of exhaustion and the allure of a comfortable bed, you began to rise from your cuddled position with Schlatt. But just as you were about to leave, Schlatt gently held your hand and stopped your.

"Y/N, before you go," Schlatt began, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

You looked at him, their curiosity piqued. "What is it, Schlatt?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering, and confessed, "I've had feelings for you for a while now. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but after tonight I just have to tell you.”

You’re eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You know, Schlatt, I've felt the same way."

In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The attraction you’d both felt but never dared to acknowledge was suddenly brought into the open. Your lips met in a tender, heartfelt kiss, sealing their feelings with a promise of something beautiful and genuine.

As you pulled away from the kiss, you shared a knowing smile and then, hand in hand, headed to their room to continue their night, no longer just friends, but something more.

[centrally-unplanned]

Wonders are definitely cool in the Civilization series and I think a game that has that mechanic should exist, but still I think they aren't either what I would want from wonders or what players instinctively conceive of them as being. In most modern Civ games wonders are caches of unique abilities, and often the most powerful abilities in the game. Its quite common to "blitz" to a wonder, like how Petra was literally required for desert starts in Civ 5, or how any heavy coastal nation wanted the Great Lighthouse in Civ 4. And other times its like a plug gap, like okay I have unhappiness problems lets go for the Civ 6 Colosseum for that bonus amenity stacking on my entertainment districts.

The problem for me is that this really stops wonders from being what they are, a regular building but "better" in some symbolic way, and instead are very strategically load-bearing magitech. Someone beating you to Petra in Civ 5 can be a game restart moment, "well fuck now this city will suck". And in a simulation of humanity, that doesn't make sense right? Whatever *thing* you were going to build to give you food in the desert you should obviously still be able to build, someone else building it really breaks immersion that way. Everyone is scrambling to race for divine favor, essentially. And its still weird for less load-bearing cases, like why can my attempt to build happiness buildings for my people be "poached" by an enemy civ?

To just spin something off you can instead imagine systems where you just build regular buildings, and then you accumulate "wonder points" via organically doing well in the game, which you can spend to enshrine one of your buildings as a wonder. Maybe wonders pretty much all play into the culture game and you get culture bonuses for that, or "number of wonders" can make you progress along an unlock path, a lot of ways to go. I personally think Civ stumbled into its wonder mechanics, never really considering if something that was "fine" for Civ 1 works well for later versions, but its just how it works now. As the "ur" nation-building game, it's an area where a bit more intuitive fidelity would be appreciated.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Humble Beginnings (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Humble Beginnings

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

Joker promises Y/n a night you’ll never forget but when has J’s ideas ever went according to plan?

authors note:

Please don’t throw any tomatoes at me! I am so far behind on my story that I’ve decided to do back to back chapters! No oneshots in between 😤 I’m super excited to see the reactions to this chapter. It reads like a filler, but it’s jammed packed with vital information. Do enjoy! 🖤✨

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse @jaysmentalspace

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

"Do you trust me?"

You shouldn't have. Common sense begged you not to. Apparently, you had none when it came to Joker. You just nodded and did as he asked.

The sidewalk outside Tiffany's was still empty but you paid it little mind. Your focus was on the black SUV parked near the curb. Behind it, you could see the normal bustling sight of Gotham. No one dared to cross the invisible line. Just how did Joker pull off his elaborate stunts, the world may never know. It was none of your business anyway.

You blindly trusted your clown and slid into the backseat only to discover that there was no driver.

You hoped that one would join you. Joker proved in the Vineyard that he was a terrible driver.

You didn't want to relive that horrifying experience again. Yet much to your dismay, Joker came strolling down the sidewalk to open the driver's door.

He made himself comfortable and opened his mouth to speak. It took a split second for him to realize that you weren't in the passenger seat.

Joker's work mode activated instantaneously. It was only a short walk from the storefront to the car but a professional only needed thirty seconds to grab you. His mind was racing with endless possibilities to get you back.

In that moment, Joker showed you just how much he cared about you when he hit the steering wheel with a curse spewing from his lips.

He looked a nervous wreck so you decided to end his mini suffering before it truly began. "Joker, I'm right here."

You waved from the backseat and he deflated like a balloon realizing that you were okay. No one took you. You were safe and accounted for.

He was relieved to say the least but his hands were still shaking. Hopefully you didn't notice.

"Y/n.. ya almost gave me a scare! Whatcha doing in the backseat hmm?" He patted the passenger seat in earnest, "I want you riding shotgun!"

You gave Joker a scare? Now that was one for the history books.

His green eyes still had traces of panic in them and it made you feel guilty. You weren't where you were supposed to be; and it caused Joker to panic. Losing you was perhaps his only fear and it was all because you miscalculated which seat he wanted you to occupy.

All of this could have been avoided if he gave you better instructions; however you didn't want to point fingers tonight.

You said nothing as you climbed over the center console and plopped down in the passenger seat.

Joker simply blinked in surprise. "Well. Ha, that's uhh, one way to do it." He laughed and turned the SUV on.

You were trying to get comfy on the leather seats in your silk dress. It wasn't the same Mercedes that he drove in Massachusetts; you remembered the dash wasn't matte and the seats were cloth, not leather. Regardless of the changes, it was a clean ride.

"The keys are clean my boy."

Your comment made Joker eye you sideways. He chalked it up to one of your Blüdhaven phrases since you didn't translate further.

J hummed in that ambiguous tone of his. "Uh thanks? It's yours actually." He turned onto the highway while you proceeded to error 404.

It was still hard to judge if Joker was joking or being serious about things. He always left you guessing.

"Run that back?" You asked. Ah, he knew what that saying meant.

He briefly glanced over at you before his eyes returned to the road. He wasn't one for repeating himself, yet you were breaking that personal quirk. "I'm saying..... it's yours doll. I thought you might want—"

"YOU BOUGHT ME A G-WAGON?!"

You heard Joker grumble about it technically not being a legal purchase but your mind was elsewhere. Morgana was right. Joker was already spoiling you with things. That sneaky florist knew this whole time!

The devil on your shoulder was cackling for days. 'Good pussy will get you anything. Secure the bag!!'

You shook your head so you could hear Joker ramble off the key features.

"It has custom cup holders, heated/cooled seats, annnnd its bulletproof!"

Pause. Did you hear that one correctly? "J, you're making me nervous." What did he expect you to encounter on the road? The Batmobile? You hardly went anywhere to warrant owning a car. J didn't waste time a second replying.

"Good. I don't want you takin' the subway anyyy-more. If you don't li-Ke this model, I'll uhh, get whatever car ya want but it will be armored."

That was his only requirement and you were reminded of the stale air between Joker and Two Face. Things were unresolved on that front but you didn't know if the former district attorney was the person behind the Manila folder incident. If not, then you had two enemies lurking around.

Someone had The Joker cautious. It was a fact too hard to ignore.

Joker had many enemies however this one took things personal and that made them ten times more dangerous. Your safety was J's number one priority. The least you could do was comply with his wishes. That didn't mean you couldn't have a little fun beforehand.

"So, i-if I want a Prius instead?" You led on. "You'd get me one?"

Joker looked away from the road to gawk at you. The man looked positively offended. "I am noT—"

You started tapping the dashboard after looking ahead. "Brake! Brake! Brake! Brake!" Your poor heels were stomping on an imaginary brake pedal on the passenger side. Anything to avoid a head on collision since Joker seemed incapable of noticing.

Joker finally came to his senses and swerved into the merging lane, thus avoiding the sudden congestion up ahead.

The car behind Joker unfortunately collided with the stand still traffic and began a multi car pile-up. Joker thought you freaking out was the funniest thing ever; you on the other hand were too busy questioning why you let him drive. Again.

No mode of transportation was safe if Joker was behind the wheel.

You clutched your head and stared out the window, yet the passing road signs made you perk up. "Are we headed to the airport? Dear Lord, I can't stomach flying after this." You waved at the mess on the highway behind you.

Joker's hand came to a rest on your thigh, right as he passed by the exit ramp for the Archie International Airport. A part of you wanted to yell at him to keep both hands on the wheel but his hand felt nice where it was.

Joker promised you a night you'd never forget, you weren't so sure when that would start.

"Shhh Bunny. You'll see." He squeezed your fears away. "You trust me, yeah?"

He didn't see your eye roll. "That's debatable." You mumbled.

Joker scoffed but kept quiet.

Despite it being dark out, any native knew where this road led. J saw you tense up out of the corner of his eye. A mile marker made your blood run cold.

Blüdhaven 24 miles.

"Joker, t-turn the car around. I don't..." You saw the familiar but foreign Blüdhaven skyline in the distance. "I d-don't wanna be here." You whispered.

It was so close, yet so far. You never wanted to return to this living hell but Joker gave you no other choice. He kept the vehicle on its course despite you tearing up in the passenger seat.

"Take me home, J. I'm serious!"

He thought about turning around, if not for an incoming text message on the dash distracting him. Somehow you didn't see it since you were staring out the window in a panic.

He clicked his tongue and exited the highway, his mind racing to work around this set back. Immediately the SUV was met with the rough pothole-ridden streets you grew up on. There was no doubt where you were now. You were getting nauseous just thinking about it.

"Take you home? I am, silly!" Joker giggled. To your horror, he turned onto your old street and began slowing down. What part of this was supposed to be a good night?

This was a nightmare.

Joker parked on the street, in your old, designated parking spot and cut the engine. You had tunnel vision and failed to hear Joker calling your name.

"I uh, hacked your manager's office to get the address. Hope ya don't mind.. But uhhh nice place! You gonna inviTe me up, Bunny?"

You shook your head in the negative.

Joker's plans were already ruined but you just had to make matters worse by being a stick in the mud. Joker clicked his tongue again and came around the SUV to open your door. He didn't expect to see you crying when he got there.

"No. Nooooo no noo. Stop that, Bunny. Look. At. Me." He frowned when you did the opposite. He was getting irritated but he refused to let you see. All it took was a little patience when you got like this. Patience! You know, something he severely lacked.

Joker sighed and reached inside the wagon to tilt your face towards him.

"Focus on me, my Light. That's it. On me. He's not here. I am, and I wanna see your place. Uh, in an old blog post you mentioned you had a errr, nice view? Can you show me?"

He was pulling out all the strings, and still, you weren't budging.

"C'mon baby doll.." J kept his focus on you but also on the street. Blüdhaven was infamous for a reason and he didn't want you outside for too long drawing unnecessary attention. The SUV alone drew enough.

He had a team assigned to run surveillance; however, they weren't here yet due to the setback. Getting you situated inside was his first priority then he could check on their ETA.

That is, if you cooperated.

You looked ready to faint amid your panic attack.

Joker's methods were a touch cruel however he knew facing one's fears helped in the long run. He never fully understood why you avoided your hometown when it was only forty-five minutes away—at least, if you drove fast like him it was.

You had baggage that was long overdue for unpacking, and he wanted to be there with you when it happened. He wished someone had been there for him years ago but all he got was a bad rep and solitary confinement.

Bottling up your trauma wasn't healthy. This knowledge came from experience and Joker didn't want you ending up like him.

"Y/n, you still with me?"

Joker's voice was muffled by the ringing in your ears, yet you nodded your head regardless. He gave you an awkward hug— you still seated and him standing, desperately trying to get you out of the vehicle.

His actions worked. You sought out his warmth and followed the tugging motion until you were standing on the curb. He half carried, half dragged you into the apartment building in an ironic twist of events.

You were reminded of the time when you carried Joker to your apartment when the two of you first met. History was repeating itself. However, in this case the roles were reversed and there was no elevator. Joker picked you up bridal style and carried you to your old residence. Along the way, you came to and asked to be put down.

You wanted to walk on your own and you led Joker right up to the apartment door. "T-This is me. Or it used to be." You blinked and added, "I don't have the key."

Joker scoffed, "Don't neeeed one." His shoulder made quick work of the door and you glared at his illegal methods.

"J, this isn't my place anymore! What if someone else is renting?"

A lot could happen in a year. You moved out so fast that your landlord didn't have time to fine you for ditching the agreement. Technically you still had a lease here and that much was evident when you walked in. Nothing had changed. Sure it was dusty, but bigger pieces of furniture and some personal items that you left behind were still present.

You lifted a dust cover and smiled seeing your favorite end table, scuff marks and all, hidden underneath.

"Oh. Me and Nia thrifted this back in high school!" You were confused why you didn't take it with you until you tried lifting it.

"Yup still heavy." You moved on and didn't notice Joker moving it near the door for you. Anything you wanted to take back, he would.

Overtime you started to relax and Joker admired the way you shuffled around digging up old memories. And to think you were initially too scared to come up here. His Bunny was so skittish, all you needed was a little nudge of encouragement.

He noticed that most of your finds were too heavy, and it made him think out loud. "Was my Bunny in a hurry to leave?"

You set down a box of things, sighing. "Yeah. This is the first time I've been here since..."

Joker noticed you hesitate and filled in the blanks for you. No wonder you were so against coming here. Joker felt like an idiot. This was your first visit since your assault, and you continued to rub in his mistake.

"I moved back in with Mama and Dad. It took months to get back on my feet. Dad and some of my cousins moved my stuff for me since I couldn't bring myself to come back. It was essentials only and it barely fit inside the U-haul we rented. I moved to Gotham with a fraction of my life. I had to start over with absolutely nothing."

Seeing the space around him was proof of your resilience.

Joker unlocked another piece to the Y/n puzzle. Everything you had today, you earned with nothing but grit and determination. He felt stupid for thinking you were a spoiled, entitled brat.

You were stronger than people gave you credit for. You deserved the world and then more.

Joker came over but stopped short of touching you. He was uncertain if you wanted physical contact right now judging by your closed off body language. However, J thought you shouldn't be alone, so he tested the water to gauge your reaction.

For starters, he dropped his unique speech pattern and talked to you straight. A trend you noticed he did exclusively for you.

"Anything you want, I'll have my boys bring back for you." He moved his hand until his pinky bumped into yours. It made you crack a smile and intertwine your fingers with Joker's.

Such a small gesture held a bigger meaning. You silently thanked Joker for being considerate. After a while you turned to address him.

"R-Really? You can do that?"

Joker feigned offense, staring at your dainty hand looped around his rougher one. The contrast in color had him mesmerized but he heard your question loud and clear.

He let go of your hand to tilt your chin up, and his words brushed against your lips like satin. "Sweetheart. Say the word and it's yours. You really should believe me on that."

J backed you into a wall grinning wildly, until you started blinking like mad. "What's wrong?" He knew that trigger of yours all too well and backed off.

You didn't let him go far. You buried your face into Joker's suit and held on tight. "I'm sorry, just a bad memory here."

Seconds after you spoke, you were deposited on top of the kitchen counter. The surface was cool through your silk dress, but Joker's hands were warm on your hips.

He was quick to dote on you. "What's the story?"

A long one if you were being honest. You weren't up to retelling it, yet one look into Joker's curious eyes made you cave. He was earnest in his desire to know more about you and that included your horrid past.

There was no harm in sharing so with a shaky sigh, you jumped right in.

"Um l-long story short, I was accused of cheating after he saw a post I was tagged in with a fan of mine. He punched the wall, almost hitting me. I was terrified he would hurt me, but he 'apologized' with diamond earrings the next day."

Joker looked up and sure enough, he could see the indentation you spoke of. Someone had tried to patch the wall up, key word; tried. Joker saw nothing but red.

"Give me a location and I'll kill him."

You shrugged J off. The last thing you wanted was Joker killing someone in your name, even if it was your ex. You were trying to forget and move on with your life despite the process being slow.

Joker was curious as to why you hopped off the counter.

He followed your path as you hovered near the sink. You smiled at a burn mark you found there. Your emotions changed like a drop of a hat; he honestly couldn't keep up. You reminisced about your Housewarming party when the same friend Nia set down a casserole dish straight from the oven and burned the countertop.

It brought you back to happier times and you were glad to know good memories were mixed in with the bad.

The discovery lighted the mood but Joker couldn't overlook that this apartment was filled with signs of abuse, hidden in plain sight.

You didn't realize that you were surrounded by the signs until you gave Joker a tour, pointing things out left and right. It was nearing time for his surprise to begin, yet Joker couldn't bring himself to interrupt you.

The fancy dinner he planned tonight would have to wait for another day due to safety concerns. Plus he rather enjoyed following you around and hearing you share stories of your past.

It wasn't the memorable night that he had originally designed, moreover, being in your presence was more than enough.

A shame you were expecting something big to occur. He'd make something up on the fly to appease you.

You led Joker past the barren bedroom out to your balcony. It was the size of a broom closet compared to your massive square footage back at home. You really moved up in life and it showed.

"This is the view I was talking about. I used to stay out here for hours. Just me and my thoughts, planning a future I could only dream of."

Joker whistled at the grand sight of Gotham City in the distance.

It truly looked like a beacon of hope from here especially since he now knew about your old living situation back inside. You dreamed of escaping it all and starting anew, and it all originated from this balcony.

Joker's eyes strayed from the skyline down at you.

His Light bathing in the moonlight. The cool blue hue highlighted your features in ways Joker could've never imagined. You were gorgeous, even if there was a wistful expression on your face that he longed to erase.

Joker tapped your shoulder to get your attention. You turned with a soft hum, but it was cut short by J kissing you.

It was full of passion with a touch of desperation.

You weren't defined by your past. You were free to live out the dreams you created, and he wanted to provide it for you if only you would allow him to.

J shifted to deepen the kiss, but you beat him to it by pushing him away. You said something under breath before clearing your throat.

'Always running away.' Joker wryly thought. He had a split-second idea of handcuffing you to him before he shook it away.

He found you removing your heels in order to climb up the dingy fire escape. And to his surprise you were standing on the ledge, Titanic style.

"Uh... Bun?" His hands reached out to balance you. He was met with your carefree laugh floating in the breeze.

"I used to come up here dozens of times, J." You turned around to look down at him. "It's safe."

A rusty groan followed by a loud pop proved your words otherwise. You yelped when your balance gave way to the beam breaking and if not for Joker's tight grip on your waist, you would have tumbled down four stories.

Thank goodness for his fast reflexes.

"I got ya doll! Don't look down... Don'T! Look.." A dumb order to follow when your head was hanging over the edge. You elected to close your eyes until Joker pulled you back over.

The two of you collapsed back on the safe portion of the balcony in a fit of emotions. You shaking with Joker gently rocking you.

"I got you Bunny." He kissed the crown of your head, holding onto you for dear life. You were nodding along to anything he said in your state of shock. He waited for a while before speaking again.

"I had plansss for us to stay herebuT. Why don't I drop you off at your parents instead, yeah?"

This was his idea of a night you'll never forget?

You refused to believe it. Something must've come up for him to be so spontaneous with his plans. J didn't make you get all dolled up and drive you out of Gotham City for nothing. He had to have something bigger up his sleeve for later.

For now, you feigned ignorance. "W-Where are you gonna stay?"

Joker pulled back just enough to give you an, 'are you kidding me' glare.

"Right. Y-You have a hideout here in town. National threat and all. Um, if you drop me off at my parents, they'll hog me for days. I haven't visited them since I moved to Gotham."

Were you rambling? You couldn't tell. Good thing Joker loved your voice and had the patience to listen to what you had to say. He just repositioned you better on his lap and played with your gold bracelet as you filled in the silence.

He hated that you got so pretty all for nothing. Joker was getting fed up with this coward following him around and threatening your safety.

He'd get to the bottom of that situation later. As for now..

"Then stay as long as ya like." Joker chimed in. He regretted saying it the second it left his lips.

You twisted around until you saw Joker's eyes alit by the moon. He looked sincere yet you spotted his curt smile. The boy was drowning in self loathing.

You called his bluff. "I thought this trip was about us."

"It issssss. I'll uh find something to do while you visit the folks." His eerie smirk made you wince.

"Let me guess you'll commit some elaborate crime that'll attract Nightwing's attention?" Your fingers toyed with the lapels on J's suit. "Please don't stir up too much trouble, J. Blüdhaven is a lot different than—"

Joker's huff cut you off, and a shiver went down your spine hearing his voice drop an octave. "Thanks for the warning, Sugar but that's the goal. I wanT to cause a fuss. Ya see... I have some uh, loose ends, and whaddya know? I brought scissors."

You gulped and rested your head back on Joker's chest. If you ignored his ominous words, then they wouldn't affect you.

That straight up sounded like a hit list waiting to happen. You wanted no parts in Joker's line of work.

After a while, only the sound from the nearby interstate and the feeling of Joker's fingers running up your spine was relevant. Your mind was adrift with imaginary scenarios where Joker could meet your parents, but alas it was too risky.

Not only did your dad used to run the streets back in the day, he still had active connections and would recognize Joker on the spot. Plus, your mom was like the female version of Sherlock.

Joker wouldn't stand a chance. But a girl could wish. And your clown was already ten steps ahead of you plotting ways to make it happen.

He had to make up for this failure of a date somehow.

Joker let you drive the way back to your parents. Not because you were terrified of his driving, (he just giggled at your seething glare when he accidentally went down a one-way street), but the neighborhood was hard to give verbal directions to.

Little did you know, Joker knew exactly where your parents lived but that was a tidbit for another day.

He rather enjoyed watching you behind the wheel. Like a true Blüdhaven native, you drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, riding low. You navigated past potholes with ease and your driving skills were far more impressive since Joker held your heels, allowing you to drive barefoot.

His girl was a sight to see, and he told you this at every stop light. You tried to not let J's words make you flustered but with his silver tongue that feat was virtually impossible.

You pulled the SUV a few cars down from the house and shifted into park. The street was so familiar yet foreign, it gave you Deja vu.

You used to read books at the basketball court down the corner and you busted your lip open skating into Ms. Morrison's mailbox one Saturday afternoon a few yards away. It was still bent at an odd angle if you squinted hard enough...

"Everything alright?" Joker's voice brought you back to the present.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Um can you hand me my shoes and I'll be outta your hair."

You yelped when Joker yanked you over the console by the back of your neck. His shaky breath fanned over your lips like a dragon's ire. "You.. are.. noT.. a.. burden, my Light. Never think that." J kissed you in between words, "I'm gonna help ya with your heels, mkay?"

He didn't give you a chance to argue. J was already out of his seat and walking around the back of the car to the driver's side. Joker opened the door and made grabby hands at your feet. You bent your leg so it stuck out the car and into Joker's awaiting hand. His hands were so warm against your skin and it made you shiver.

And of course, Joker noticed. All he did was snort and resume his task.

He fastened your heels back onto your feet and helped you step out of the SUV. The engine was still running but you stared up at Joker, waiting for a proper goodbye.

You and Joker were two idiots standing in the street, just staring at each other. Thankfully it was dark enough so that noisy neighbors couldn't peer out of their windows and see you embracing The Joker.

Now that would be a fun welcome home surprise. You rather not be the talk of town for a second time, thank you very much.

You didn't know what to say so you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "I'll call you I guess?"

Joker hummed. It sounded like an affirmative, yet his hands were like iron bars around your waist. You tried leaning away, his hands simply tightened further. "J... are you gonna let me go?"

An approaching car's headlights lit up the street, and it startled Joker out of his random head space.

He finally released you onto the sidewalk. It was your cue to walk to the door, even if you didn't understand Joker's odd way of saying goodbye. He was still staring as you headed up the stoop. He was acting weird, yet you chose not to dwell on it too much.

Nineteen knocks later and your mother answered the door in her bathrobe wielding a bat. The sight made you arch an eyebrow.

"Who the f—Y/n that you? MY BABY!" She dropped the bat to sweep you up into her arms. "Oh! Do you know what time it is?! Honey! Our baby is here!!!"

Your dad was already making his way down the hallway loading his handgun. Just what time was it anyway for this type of greeting?! You had no clue. The second dad saw you standing in the doorway, his entire demeanor changed, and he concealed his weapon.

It was a reunion scene straight from a hallmark movie and Joker rolled his eyes after seeing the door close with you safely inside. His eyes never strayed from the front door as he made a phone call.

"501 Dorset. Three friendlies. 24/7 watch." He hung up before driving away.

It wasn't the memorable night he planned by any means, but seeing your heartfelt smile while reuniting with your parents would have to suffice. His Light was safe enough for him to go out and get some answers.

He wanted to know more about your past, and your hometown was filled with leads. All he needed was someone who would itch his ears.

The following morning was just like any other in the Y/L/N household. Your mom cooked breakfast and the heavenly smell floated up the stairs and roused you awake. You were always the last down. Somethings just never changed.

Dad was reading the second page of the newspaper by the time you shuffled down the stairs still in your pjs and bonnet.

"Morning, sweetheart. You hungry?" Mama asked, already piling food onto your favorite plate and sliding it on the table. You thanked her after saying grace and grabbed a fork.

At least your dad waited until you had scarfed down half the plate to start his interrogation.

"How did ya get here so late? I hope you weren't out alone." He rubbed his arm where your mom hit him with her spatula. She was thinking the same thing! Why keep it hush?

He had already called in from work to spend time with his girls. It was a rare visit indeed, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. Luckily, your mom also had the next few days off from the hospital.

They had all day to get some answers.

You choked on your eggs. "Um, a... um friend d-dropped me off." You focused your eyes on the horizon in your coffee mug.

"Teh. You mean the shady lookin' friend in the all black G-Wagon?" He pestered. Your mom turned the stove off and came over to the table with her own plate piled high.

"G Wagon? Should I know what that is?" Your mom asked out loud. You smiled watching dad hold out a chair for her and then push her up to the table. Ugh, they were so cute it gave you a toothache.

He kissed her forehead before sitting back down, "It's the obvious choice with armored vehicles. That or a Rover. Are you keeping your head on the swivel?" You noticed the gleam in his eye and the hidden message behind it.

"I'm not in anything dad, I promise. It's just a friend."

He nodded; content for now until your mom spoke up, pointing her breakfast sausage at you.

"At that time of night, a friend would've walked you up dear. Or at least came in to say hello. They got any manners?"

She had a point and you winced in hindsight. Manners were a big thing to your family. You stammered an excuse. "Yes ma'am.. but.."

"Is this that same Prince Charming fellow Dick was going on about at dinner?"

Bruh, your dad was on your neck! There was no time to breathe! You never lied to your parents before and you certainly weren't about to start now. You pushed your egg whites around on the plate and caved.

"Um... yes?" You knew their reaction would be instant.

"AND HE DIDN'T COME IN 'N SAY HELLO?!" Mama cried, followed by your dad rubbing his temples. Well, this wasn't good.

How could you get out of this barrage of questions and paint Joker in a good light? Not like he'd ever meet them, but still you wanted him to have a good rapport with your family. "Mama, he's like really shy around others.."

You knew you said the wrong thing when dad smacked his paper down on the table. "What grown man is shy, Y/n? Ain't you into mature men?"

You pulled a face and glanced at your mother.

She snickered and bit into her toast. There were no secrets, and you were open about everything to them, but it was still awkward to discuss your preferences in men with your parents.

"Um yes dad... I am. B-but, in this situation, just..." you took a deep breath, "Could you please respect his boundaries?"

"Will his boundaries allow us to meet and judge if he's good enough for our Y/n/n?" Mama argued.

And that's where you drew a blank.

Realistically you knew Joker would never meet your parents, however staying quiet would only rouse their curiosity. You had to come up with some sort of answer and fast. Then you remembered the mother-daughter conversation you had with Ma back at your place. A lightbulb went off in your head.

"I'm not sure Mama. Remember I told you, it's not really a permanent relationship. If you want to meet hi—"

"Whatchu mean it ain't permanent? Is he stringing you along? Do I need to call your uncle?" Your dad asked.

You paled. "God no." That's the last thing you needed in your chaotic life.

Even your mother was on edge. "Honey, I doubt it's that serious, right Y/n? No need to get... them involved. Just you wait! Our daughter's got good taste. This mysterious man will come around." She nodded once and that was the end of that.

You exhaled in relief, but the weight of her words sank to your gut.

You didn't have good taste at all. You didn't have the heart to tell your family you were dating the most dangerous criminal in the country or the fact that you were uncertain of the outcome. Would Joker let you walk away from this relationship alive, or would you be another one of his nameless victims, lost to time? Something told you it would probably be the latter.

It was a lot to think about over breakfast. A lulling silence settled over the kitchen until your mother broke it with her cheery voice.

"Oh! Y/n! Since you're here, why don't we go out as a family?"

It was the least you could do, so you swiftly replied.

"Yeah sure Mama. I need something to wear though." You played with a loose thread on your pajama pants. After the shock of you being on their front stoop wore off, Mom and Dad ushered you inside and caught up on lost time, despite it being the dead of night.

Mama commented on your beautiful outfit and you asked to change into something more comfortable before continuing the family chitchat. You donned an old high school spirit shirt and the threadbare pants that you wore now.

The three of you talked for hours until sleep out won the excitement. Now as for going out in public, you weren't so sure you had anything suitable left in your closet upstairs.

"Well, I think I have something that could fit you, at least till we get to a store. It's nothing like your fancy designer clothes." She thought back to your pretty dress that you came in wearing. She hadn't seen you dressed up in ages!

Which reminded her. Your mom turned to your father, "Do you have any plans for today, honey?"

"Nah. I wanna tag along with my two favorite girls. All I'm askin' is to be fed. How about.. we go to Vincent's later? You remember their brown butter and sage gnocchi? Man, you love that stuff, Y/n/n." He scratched his neck, hoping he didn't ruin the moment. Even your mother held her breath at the mere suggestion.

You tensed for a second but nodded. "Omg, yes! I've been craving it actually!" You admitted. Mom reached across the table to grab your hand.

"Will you be okay going there dear? We can always order take-out.."

"I-I think I'll be okay." You caught the hesitant look your parents gave each other. "Seriously. It's cool. I can't condemn Vincent for someone else's actions. Plus, his food is too good to boycott." You squeezed her hand back. I'll be okay.

"Well that settles it. Everyone get ready and we'll hit the towns!"

A day out with your parents was just what the doctor prescribed.

Downtown Blüdhaven was just as you remembered it. Granted it was just as bad as Gotham, (if not worse) you felt a sense of comfort walking around. Perhaps because you knew the people here. You shopped at that drug store for years and knew the workers therein. You and some old school buddies accidentally broke the window at that diner on the corner.

It was nostalgia at its finest, only downside was that your success in Gotham followed you home. You were spotted walking around and by midday, your mom had to say something.

"Sweetheart! I didn't know you were so... famous." She was awestruck when a group of teenagers squealed and asked for your autograph inside the mall. You just smiled, signed their items, and even took a selfie with them—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Yeah well.. I'm a successful author mama. It's kinda part of the job." Dad was skeptical but he enjoyed acting like your bodyguard for the day and he took his job very seriously.

The two bodyguards that Joker officially assigned over you simply rolled their eyes but didn't dare talk down to your father figure. They both shared a look and passed along a message to J as to who your father was.

To avoid any future run ins with fans, you decided to make a quick post online. Dad guided you over to a nice backdrop and you whipped out your phone.

"Hey hi everyone! I'm back home, taking a break if you will with the 'rents. My adoring mother and father," you flipped the lens to show your mom hiding behind dad. Dad gave a weak two finger salute in her stead.

Your bell like laughter was captured on camera. "I forgot; she's camera shy. But um.. Yeah! I'm in Blüdhaven for the day super casual, so please be mindful of my privacy. Love and kisses!"

You hit send and glanced up hearing your dad's soft laugh. "Look at my Y/n overcoming her anxiety and talking to people!" He was about to nuzzle your hair, but Mama swooped in to save the day. "Not on the twist out!!"

Your hair was looking bomb after she gave it some much needed blue magic moisture and love this morning. She was protecting her masterpiece with an iron fist.

Dad rolled his eyes and tossed his arms around both you and Mama's shoulder. "I think it's time I fed my girls. Who's hungry?"

Your stomach cried out the loudest and you slapped a hand over it, embarrassed. And on that note, it was time to head out.

The restaurant wasn't too far of a walk, but you could feel a change in the air. You noticed the street sign and shivered. Highland and Bicchieri. It gave you the ick.

"We can go somewhere else if you're not ready, Y/n."

It didn't matter which one of them said it, your parents were a collective unit whenever it came to your comfort. Dad kept his distance all day, but you shocked him by initiating physical contact. It made him happy knowing you were healing but he couldn't help but worry that eating here would be counterproductive.

You hugged his arm closer to you for support. "I'm alright. I'm not going to boycott Vincent's food just because of one bad apple. I'm hungry! Let's go!" With a nod to yourself, you entered the building—leaving them outside.

"I got a bad feelin' about this." Mom sighed. Your dad silently agreed.

They walked in right as you were being ushered back by the hostess. "Right this way." She nodded at your parents and guided the three of you back to a cozy area of the restaurant.

Exposed brick and antique lights were the theme throughout. The building itself was one of the founding structures in the city, dating back to the 1900's and the Bicchieri family owned it for almost all of its history. If these walls could talk...

Menus were handed out and the hostess bid the three of you a nice meal before leaving.

Everything was going smoothly until a waiter came over to start out the table and locked eyes with you. "Y/n?"

Of all people to run into, just your luck. "H-Hey Rebekah."

And of course she was eating up your discomfort. "Wow. I thought you'd never step foot in Blüdhaven again. Lemme guess. No one believed your sob story in the big city, and ya came crawling back home?" She scoffed under her breath. "What can I get ya? Disappointment with a side of attention seeking whor—"

"We'd like a different waiter that's what you can get us. I don't got an appetite for your f___king attitude." Your mother said on your behalf.

Rebekah rolled her eyes and walked off. A table across the way gasped as in disbelief at what they just heard and started mumbling amongst themselves.

Dad was trying to calm your mother down, he did not want her making a scene, and you slid further down in your seat, regretting everything.

This is exactly why you never came back home. There was no escaping the backlash.

It was like dad sensed your brewing tears. "We can leave if you want sweetheart. Mama is right, we don't have to take their s__t." He grumbled more under his breath; you didn't care. You just shook your head.

"We're on his family's turf, I should've expected this. I just want to eat and—"

The restaurant exploded into absolute chaos mid sentence.

Multiple men stormed the place demanding everyone shut up and stay seated. Your dad ordered you and Mom to stay calm despite the goons going table to table threatening everyone with guns. You were a ball of nerves already, but you listened to your father's soothing words.

He was a veteran to these sorts of things. If he told you to do something, it was for the best. His wisdom was golden in your opinion.

None of the goons made it to your table yet, which you were grateful for, however much to your horror, Joker strolled in followed by Frost protecting his rear. It was something straight out of a night terror.

You never saw Joker in his element—and it was obvious he was a completely different person in public. He carried an air of fear that made the warnings that news anchors always drowned on about, seem tame.

He is heavily armed and extremely dangerous. We ask the public to stay far away if found within the same vicinity as The Joker.

Up until today, you only seen Joker as a caring, silly roommate, and an even better lover. He was never a danger to you—at least, that you knew of, and he never caused you harm that he didn't immediately regret.

The man dressed in a signature purple suit, stalking the restaurant was unrecognizable to you. You didn't know his motive and that made you tremor in fear.

You whimpered and hid in your father's arms—narrowly avoiding being seen by Joker as he glanced in your direction. He flailed his arms at the lack of service. "Cmon... I just wanted a table." He said before demanding for the manager.

Even his voice sounded different. Had it always been so sinister? It made the hair on your arm stand on end.

A man came out and by smell alone, you knew it was Vincent Bicchieri himself. You could smell the garlic and authentic cigars from across the room.

You couldn't bear to look him in the eye. They reminded you too much of his nephew's. And they both had the same pompous attitude. "Whaddya want freak? Did ya get lost on the highway?" Vincent joked. No one laughed along.

Joker kissed his teeth and glossed over the menu that your waitress; Rebekah handed him. He skimmed over the options before he suddenly grabbed Vincent by his gold chain.

"I'm a looking for someone. Someone... veryyyyy special. You ahh, Ital-i-ans are quite family oriented, no?"

"What's it to ya, freak." Vincent spat out.

Joker took a deep, long breath and you could see his fingers twitching, a clear sign that he was agitated. You knew he hated being called names and this blatant disrespect was probably eating at him. Frost noticed the same thing and flanked his Boss, waiting on a command.

The other goons were left to their own devices moseying around the restaurant. You were too busy watching Joker to notice that one of them had finally approached your table.

Joke licked his scars while rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Ok-aaaaay. Let's just cut to the chase, hmm?"

You covered your mouth as Joker took out a switchblade and slit Vincent's throat. His body fell to the floor in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. Women and children were screaming and Joker's goons were ordering them to shut up again. The thug passing by your table caught sight of you despite your father trying his best to shield you and Mom.

"Pretty daughter you got there." The henchmen smirked. Your father wasn't having it and politely warned the boy. "Back off son."

"I ain't ya son."

You knew this wouldn't end well when the crazed henchman grabbed hold of you.

Your instincts were screaming at you to say something, (to cry out for J, anything) but your throat sealed shut in fear. Being quiet was your default in scary situations but you weren't alone today. In the den of chaos, you heard both your parents cry out your name.

You didn't hear Joker's footsteps; you just happened to see his green hair out the corner of your eye the moment you opened them. He must've dyed it overnight, you noted sourly.

"Is there a f__king problem?" The restaurant was promptly silenced by his ominous sentence.

And rightfully so. Joker sounded like the devil himself. You almost felt bad for the poor guy touching you. How was he supposed to know the error in his ways if you were a secret?

"Uh no, Boss? I-I'm not sure Boss."

Case in point.

"LeT. Her. Go." Joker's eyes fell to his henchmen's grip on your arm. If looks could kill.. well. Joker had a thousand plus ways to murder the fool.

His green eyes had never looked more venomous and they glowed with promises of carnage. The message was well received.

The guy let go; and you roughly fell back into your seat. Your gaze naturally landed on Joker knowing that aggression would set him off even further.

The Joker you knew would not let anyone mistreat his Light.

Unfortunately, there was nothing of the man you cared about standing next to you. Not once did he look your way. Joker didn't trust himself to. One look at you would jeopardize everything.

If he turned and saw the terror swimming in your e/c eyes, his Joker persona would crumble like the Berlin Wall. He would devote himself to calming you down.

The great Joker would fall to his knees and kiss each tear away, begging for your forgiveness and he would do it shamelessly. Right in front of your parents no less.

F__k, they were right there! All he had to do was bend down and claim your lips for all to see and the truth would be out.

Joker would expose his biggest secret and have zero regrets. The only downside was you. You would suffer the most if J went public with his Light.

He couldn't risk it. No. He couldn't look. He had to pretend you were nothing to him. This was how he protected you. You. Didn't. Exist. You were an innocent civilian caught up in the crosshairs. Joker did not know you. And that happened to be the hardest task he'd ever faced.

Frost was on guard near the door just waiting for Joker to slip up. The second Frost saw you; he knew they were f__cked. Joker was gonna ruin everything being a simp.

Something had to be done before Joker and his unpredictability acted out. This scenario called for a distraction and what better one than chaos?

Joker shot his own henchmen and drowned out the sound of your startled scream with a theatrical gasp. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

He inspected the gun as if it accidentally went off on its own. "Oops." His sinister laugh was definitely forced. Only you and Frost could tell.

Unfortunately, Joker underestimated the power you held over him. You were like a magnet, beckoning Joker to give in with your natural charm and beauty. He always said your tears would be his undoing—that turn of phrase would hold true today. Much to Frost's and Joker's own dismay, he caved.

He looked at you.

He couldn't stop himself, he had to see you. But he would never forget the sight of your e/c eyes widened in terror at him. How it tortured him inside.

For once in his life, Joker felt ashamed.

Your light was shining on him and exposing his pitch-black soul. His eyes quickly averted down to the table where your menu, now splattered with blood, lay.

He gestured at it, hoping no one noticed his hands shaking. "You should uh try the ahh, brown butter gnocchi. I hear it's to die for."

You were speechless hearing Joker stumble over his words and not in his normal calculated way.

J nodded at your parents, who were frozen at the sight of him talking to you. "Enjoy your meal."

He would never admit it to anyone, but he almost tripped on his henchman's corpse trying to get away from you. A second longer in your presence would have ended in the national headline.

The Joker Brought to His Knees by a Woman.

Joker's heart was beating out of his chest and it took him a second to compose himself back into character. God, you really were his greatest weakness.

Joker passed by a petrified family of four table and swiped the wife's drink mid stride. The soda did little to quell his nerves. He couldn't get your eyes out of his head. The image was forever seared into his brain. He never wanted to be the villain in your eyes. He failed you in so many ways tonight. He had to get out of here before anything else went belly up.

Why did he come here anyway? Great, you made him forget his main objective!

Joker picked up movement out the corner of his eye and quickly locked eyes with Frost. The brute spun his finger in a circle. 'Wrap it up.'

Everyone could hear the sirens in the distance. Too little too late, but help was on the way. Joker grumbled to himself and was making his escape when he remembered one small slight.

The staff were screaming and ducking for cover when Joker and his men burst through the kitchen area, looking for the exit. Joker had no intention of bothering them until he poked his head back inside with a polite smile.

"Pardon meeee. Which one of you is... Rebekah?" He already knew but where was the fun in that? Frost was behind him, telling him to hurry it up.

J didn't have the patience to tell him to shove it. He had a score to settle. Joker grinned watching the tall, mixed girl raise her hand in fright.

"Lovely!" Joker shot her in the head before anyone could question his intentions. He admired his work with a cheekily grin. The stunned staff didn't dare move and thus suffer the same fate.

The clown was completely insane.

The terrifying sight was broken up by someone yelling, "J, we gotta go!" Joker frowned at his fun being cut short, yet he heeded Frost's urgent cry. He kicked out the back door and escaped into the night.

Out front, the customers were being rescued by policemen arriving at the restaurant. People were terrified, but this was Blüdhaven. Things like this happened a dime a dozen with a lot more casualties.

Although no one was more traumatized as you. By the time local police officers reached your table, your knuckles hand turned white. Your grip on your seat was the only thing that kept you from launching yourself into Joker's arms.

Despite your fear, you craved his comfort. You wanted the Joker you were falling in love with to hold you—not the scary clown that just left dead bodies in his wake.

Speaking of, you tried your best not to notice the dead man lying near your feet. You couldn't find any footing with the amount of blood under your heels.

Anything else was a better sight yet your eyes landed on the bloody menu right in front of you. The majority of it was illegible now except for the suggestion Joker gave you.

You were disturbed by how he knew what you wanted. It was in that moment you noticed a table within your line of sight was empty. You staunchly remembered two men sitting there before things went haywire.

How could you be so ignorant? Of course your security detail was feeding Joker intel.

Your dad was asking if you were alright, but he sounded far far away. You honestly couldn't hear anything, your ears were ringing so loud.

"I-I think I'm gonna be sick." You mumbled before you passed out cold.

The to-go box full of gnocchi sat heavily on your lap the entire ride back home.

Your parents thought they were slick stealing glances at you; as if you wouldn't notice, yet you could sense their pity in the air. It wasn't their fault. The wonderful day out with family had ended in disaster and you had only your lover to blame.

Was it a coincidence that Joker crashed the same restaurant you were dining at? You weren't so sure after witnessing the genuine shock on Frost's face when the two of you locked eyes.

J didn't expect you to be there. But why was he there in the first place racked your brain.

You had a hunch, and if you were right, the logic behind Joker's visit made you sick to the stomach.

Your head was already throbbing from the lack of nourishment plus the blunt force it suffered when you hit your head fainting. Dad swore that he tried to catch you; Mama wasn't convinced.

No one was in a good mood after giving statements to the police, and the three of you walked to the front door like a funeral party.

The to-go box, courtesy of the remaining staff, (you suspected it was Joker's doing) was tossed onto the kitchen counter when you walked inside. All you wanted to do was wash your face, secure your hair, and crawl into bed in that exact order. You had no other interests tonight.

Mama had a different agenda.

"Y/n, do you—"

You didn't mean to be rude but the last thing you wanted to do was talk. You talked way too much to investigators at the scene. Your mom jumped when you slammed your bedroom door right in her face.

She sighed and glanced at her husband, who simply shook his head, stating he was off to take a shower. Some help he was.

She didn't want you distancing yourself, especially after such a triggering dinner, so she tried again. "Baby... can you please open the door? I can help you with your hair?"

A 'go away Mama' was weakly heard through the door. The doorknob wasn't budging either when she tried turning it. Back to old habits. You were isolating yourself and as such, she felt as if she failed as a mother.

"Alright, that's okay. We're down the hall if you.. if..." All the air in her lungs left her mid sentence. "Get some sleep, Y/n/n."

You didn't hear Mama outside your door. You were distracted by your phone lighting up with an incoming call.

The assigned name made you shiver and for once, not in a good way. Should you let it ring to voicemail? You gnawed on your bottom lip debating the consequences. In the end, your thumb hit the accept button before you could regret it.

He could hear you breathing but not much else. Silent treatment it is then. He braved the unknown and spoke first.

"You alright?"

That was his intro? You didn't know what you were expecting him to say but it wasn't that. You choked out a dry laugh and stared at the black walls of your childhood bedroom.

The full wall of pictures held so many memories, it was like viewing your life in the third person. From middle school selfies to poetry night with the club, to prom, and then graduation—everything was there in stunning clarity. Except for a noticeable gap in time. The dark paint had chipped from where you ripped photos off the wall in anger. A blimp of your life, torn from your wall stared back, taunting you.

You'll never forget the pain you experienced that day. You vowed to not let another man hurt you.

It gave you the motivation to reply. "No."

Joker hummed and you heard something metallic clicking together in the background. "I'll come get—"

"I wasn't expecting you to kill someone in front of me today." You muttered. Joker didn't seem phased by the sudden change of subject, although it took him a second longer to respond.

"If I'd known you were there..."

"Oh you what?" You sneered, "You wouldn't have killed them? Yeah right. Or or... maybe you would've waited until I was gone to unleash your madness! You really think that shielding me from your line of work masks the fact that you still do it? I know who you are. I know what you do... It's just... getting a visual reminder is..." Your voice cracked at the end with a wet sob.

"Jarring?" Joker suggested.

Mind the fact that this was your first phone call with Joker, he sounded vastly different than the murderous clown you encountered back at the restaurant.

This Joker loved you; you could tell by the lack of his unique speech pattern. He spoke softly and from the heart. His sigh however was strained, and you noted that he sounded a tad bit exhausted.

It was Joker's turn to change the subject. "You looked beautiful tonight. Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, Princess."

In any other situation that nickname would've stirred butterflies in your stomach. You found a pretty printed two-piece outfit while out at the mall to wear for the day. The jewelry and heels you came to Blüdhaven in matched the ensemble perfectly. A shame Joker splattered blood all over it.

"I know what you're doing Joker." You whispered. The walls at your parent's home weren't soundproof unlike in your penthouse, so you had to be careful. "You won't distract me from the truth."

"B-Bunny.. I don't—"

"Yes you do know. Please... I am begging you. If you claim to l.. ahem, l-love me at all, don't do this. Some things are best left in the past. Finding him will change nothing."

He just didn't understand it! Why weren't you demanding justice or better yet cold hard revenge? Victims were usually angry at their aggressor. You were apathetic. If you weren't going to express anger, Joker would on your behalf.

"He deserves to die for what he did to you. If you'll let me..."

Joker stopped talking when he heard a sniffle. The power your tears had over him should be academically studied. And that same power resonated when you responded bitterly in J's ear.

"What I want you to do is forget that anything happened! No one in this stupid city believes anything did, so... let it go, J. Please. Angering the Bicchieri's will lead to nothing but violence and dead ends. No. One. Cares! Why should you?"

Several minutes passed after your outburst. You assumed that Joker had hung up, but his voice came through the receiver, matching your energy.

"Why should I care? Why should I..." He growled under his breath, and you swore you heard glass breaking in the background.

His heavy breathing was loud in your ear. Joker was in rare form. "I can show you better than I can tell ya Y/n. Watch me."

The line disconnected before you could utter another word.

[deiaiko]

#20.7 Reason

The day passed by slowly for Agni. Grace had left to show Bam around the ship, and Agni had already become bored after playing three rounds of a racing game with Gyetang. He excused to feed Velt and let her out of the lighthouse bowl, leaving Gyetang to play on his own. Then he went off to read.

Grace and Bam came back about an hour later, and they decided to make dessert together to pass the time. Agni couldn't help but watch them enjoy themselves; it was a nice view in contrast to what Agni had with his younger self. At least Grace was in a far better mood than he was an hour ago, so Agni was glad for him.

His thoughts stopped when Grace locked eyes with him. Grace smiled upon noticing his stare, which Agni returned after restarting his brain. A few moments later, Grace walked up to him, delivering a cup of chamomile tea and leaving a lingering touch on his shoulder before going back to the kitchen.

Agni took a sip to hide his blush. The sweet aroma and warmth soothed him, and the sweet taste with a hint of mint was pleasant on his mouth. After letting out some steam when playing games, relaxing when solving riddle books, and keeping his mind from wandering to unnecessary places, he realized that he was also feeling much better himself.

He stole glances now and then to the Grace brothers who were still in the kitchen across, now seemingly getting bothered by Velt. He felt a smile tugging on his lips from watching their antics. It was such an unusual yet nice view. To think of how much Grace had grown, to see the stark differences and the similarities with Bam, and to be the lucky person that Grace fell in love with… Agni quickly looked away when Grace met his eyes again, somehow feeling embarrassed at such a cheesy thought. He summoned his lighthouse and began working to keep his brain occupied.

Dan and Novick announced their return some time later, joining Grace and Bam in the kitchen to put groceries away. Agni focused his hearing to make out what they were saying.

"Hello! Are you Viole? Gyetang told us you're visiting." Dan extended his hand to Bam. "My name's Dan, and this is Novick. We've heard a thing or two about you."

Agni tuned out their conversation when the electric eels that Dan had brought along finally made themselves visible, hovering near Agni to demand attention and seek for food. So Agni got up and refilled their pellet bowl, then went to sit in the cafeteria to listen better to the conversation happening in the kitchen.

"So…other than Hyung and Mr. Agni, none of you are FUG?"

"Nope," Dan replied.

"And you're okay with it?"

'Living together with FUG members.' Agni supplied Bam's unspoken sentence in his mind.

"It was a shocking revelation when they told us," Novick commented. "Because Agni is clearly from the Khun family and Grace didn't seem like a guy who would join a criminal organization."

"Yes. Exactly." Dan emphasized the syllables to make his point. "Though they told us that they joined FUG so they could keep an eye on someone named Bam."

"Not 'keeping an eye', Dan. You make it sound like I'm keeping him on a leash." Grace immediately refuted. "I'm here to look out for him, to keep him company. And by the way, this is Bam."

"Huh." Agni imagined the gear on Dan's brain halted for a second before resuming. "Wait…so Viole and Bam are the same person?"

Right. Dan, Novick and Gyetang had heard the name Viole from Hwaryun or Jinsung when they came for a visit, and the team probably had known that Viole was FUG's newest slayer candidate. However, the name Bam was only used by him and Grace, and they never really talk much about him in public.

"Yes. Viole is the name that FUG gave him, while Bam is his name before that."

"Oh, then…should we…?"

"Viole is fine," Bam assured. "I don't mind either way."

It piqued Agni's interest, so he looked their way and saw Grace giving Bam a slightly surprised glance, but giving no further question.

Then they agreed to call him Viole, since they were already used to hearing that name.

"Wait!!" Dan flicked his fingers and pointed a finger gun to Grace, "It makes so much more sense now! So I assume Viole got kidnapped by FUG. If you can't get him out, then you're the one who went in, so that you can look out for your brother."

'They really do look like brothers now, don’t they?' Agni smiled at the thought. He wondered if Khun would one day consider him as one, too.

"Really, Hyung?" Bam gave Grace his puppy eyes.

"You didn't choose to be part of FUG. They gave you no choice." Grace patted Bam's back and squatted to check on the oven. "The least I can do is make it bearable."

Bam only stood there. "Why?" 

'Why are you doing this?' Was what Agni thought Bam wanted to ask.

"Why not?" Grace unlocked the oven and the delicious aroma of garlic bread filled the room. "I was you, once upon a time. You reminded me of myself, of the things that I've lost. All my regrets, it feels like I can fix them this time by helping you. So if you can live better than I have, it will make me feel more at ease."

Agni sipped his tea, finding the idea amusing. For him, he'd be more at ease knowing that their team had a better chance of survival, which also aligned with Grace's goal of keeping everyone alive. But in order to do that, they'd have to get through hellish training, and it had to be done if they wanted things to turn out differently. Which, in Agni's opinion, didn't count as living better. But Grace's definition of living better was different from his, knowing how much Grace treasured his friends. Working and training hard, coming back bruised black and blue and bloodied, sometimes close to passing out, was a small price to pay for him.

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