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#lawful neutral gang
inbarfink · 5 days
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Ace Attorney Lawyers Ranked By Their Abilities in Physical Combat
Winston Payne: I’m pretty sure the average Tumblr user could kill Winston Payne with their bare hands.
Sebastian DeBeste: Look, the only reason why this wimp ranks higher than Payne is because he is so sopping wet pathetic that there is a significant chance that his opponent will just start feeling bad about kicking his ass and punch themself in the face instead.
Klavier Gavin: While Klavier is a physically fit young man who is known to keep his cool in extreme situations, he is also a giant law-abiding nerd who has never thrown a punch at anything that isn’t an inanimate wall. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to shove this guy into a locker.
Miles Edgeworth: Look, Miles is an even bigger locker-worthy nerd than Klavier. Anytime anyone, friend or foe, suggests a violent solution he just gets freaked out and begs for them to follow procedures. And no AA Lawyer is more easily thrown off his rhythm and startled than he is. He might have some bulk under the magenta and frills (or at least some impressive leg muscles from climbing 12 flights of stairs every day for like seven years), but he has no idea or will to actually use them in a fight. However, he did try and stare down a man who was aiming a gun at his back that one time and managed to keep his cool throughout all of this.
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So like, he’d probably talk a big game and try and intimidate his opponent into not engaging - but if that won’t work he will get his ass thoroughly whooped. And then he’d try to sue them, which is what his threats were about all along.
Apollo Justice: Actually a considerable step up in power-levels from the previous ones. Apollo might be smol, but he is Done With Your Shit and this gives him Strength. Not to mention that one time he successfully tanked an explosion. His famous Chords of Steel can also serve as a tactic to confuse or weaken his enemies.
Kristoph Gavin: Although he is primarily known for his schemes and poisoning, he did kill a man with a single blow to the forehead with a bottle, showing he does have some decent upper-body-strength to use in a fight. And being known as ‘the Coolest Defense in the West’ means he can keep his calm even during hectic combat. But he’s also very pretentious and his constant pontifications might just be the perfect opportunity for someone to smash his face in.
Blaise Debeste: Okay, look, is Blaise a scary tall man who successfully stabbed a woman to death with a candelabra and constantly carries around a deceptively-powerful lighter and has like, implied, motorcycle gang background? Yes. But also I think anyone who encounters Blaise Debeste face-to-face is overcome with such bloodlust rage that it might give them an edge in the battle against him.
Mia Fey: Mia ranks fairly high on the Battle Scale considering the one time she was faced with a violent altercation she just tried to escape and it… didn’t end well.
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However, in the two times we get to play as her it’s also clear that she wants to Punch. All of the Things. While Apollo is fueled by being Done With Your Shit, Mia has righteous anger - so I think in a situation where she is actually prepared to do battle she would be able to throw a few decent punches. Also assuming we are talking about Mia while she was still alive, there’s also her Spirit Channeling powers to account for. While we’ve never seen them on screen, Maya told us they are “first rate” and I believe her. Maybe she could channel the spirit of a great warrior to try and get an edge in combat?
Manfred Von Karma: While he also has the same Bloodlust-Inducing-Factor as Blaise, and he does seem less physically fit even though they’re about the same age - I feel like his cane could do more serious damage than Blaise’s lighter. And he has that dangerous fucking Stun Gun on him to easily neutralize opponents. Plus, he did tank that one gunshot he got in the shoulder. Manfred’s opponents might have Rage on their side, but also you cannot underestimate the power of his sheer Spite.
Godot: On one hand, Godot has shown an ability to keep his cool in very dangerous situations. He can smash a coffee cup with his bare hands and barely react, showing that he’s decently strong and resilient to pain. And he is yet another proud (?) member of the exclusive “Lawyers With a Body Count Club”. And while stabbing a waifish, 155cm college student (and part time-poisoner) in the back isn’t exactly the most epic demonstration of battle prowess in the history of Anime Lawyers - he did it (and moved the body and doctored the crime scene and prosecuted in court) while tanking a knife slash in his face, showing his pain-resilience once again, as well as general tenacity that would also be useful in battle. Also, he can summon an infinite amount of hot coffee mugs at will, which must make for a decent improvised long-ranged attack.
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On the other hand, his health is also heavily implied to be deteriorating and that he’s basically dying over the course of the final case… possibly due to all of that physical exhaustion. If a fight goes longer than just a single backstab, I feel like these health complications are gonna harm Godot’s performance.
Phoenix Wright: Okay, so this is actually the hardest one to place. I keep flip-flopping on where to put him, especially compared to Mia, and Apollo. Because unlike most other lawyers currently ranked below him, he is a disaster when it comes to being on the offensive; Phoenix Wright is a total wimp who has never returned a punch in his life. However, he is also almost supernaturally durable, unbelievably lucky and deceptively strong. If a solid iron door, a raging freezing river and a speeding car didn’t manage to take him down, what chance does a fellow human, even a more combat-capable one, have???
Calisto Yew: She’s not even a real-lawyer! She’s a Secret Spy who successfully pretended to be a Lawyer for years! She’s got a gun, she’s got a knife, she's got crossbow bolt as hair decorations, she probably has some combat training from her time in Interpol… While she’s clearly more specialized for espionage and infiltration, and not as physically strong as Lang, she’s still got an impressive advantage over most of the regular people who went to Law School. In fact, her skill with barefaced lies and manipulation might also be a skill she could use in a fight to catch her opponent off-guard.
Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: Nahyuta is, in fact, one of the few AA Lawyers to canonically participate in what I would unambiguously call a ‘fight’ (rather than a ‘murder’), when he single-handedly disarmed and apprehended a Defiant Dragon rebel in the sorta-canon ‘Spirit of Justice’ Prologue video.
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Like, that rebel guy probably isn't the world's greatest warrior, but the Defiant Dragons have been around for enough time to give their members at least some basic self-defense/combat skills… more so than the average lawyer on this list at minimum. And Nahyuta very easily crab-stomped him. Showing that he has strong nerves, some amazing reflexes and the martial art skills to knock a man unconscious with a single blow. Not to mention the seemingly supernatural skills with his prayer beads, which he already uses as a sort of ‘weapon’ in court. Also that... thing he did to Apollo's bracelet that one time.
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Nahyuta might be just straight-up Magic, that's pretty OP.
Franziska von Karma: Look, Franziska might not have official martial-arts, guns, or Literal Magic Powers - but what she does have is sheer determination and force or personality. Franziska von Karma has been intimidating grown men since she was a 149 cm tall 13 years old with a riding crop (I mean, one of those men was Miles, but still…..). She had once whipped Phoenix Wright into unconsciousness in a temper tantrum, and like I already mentioned that taking him down is quite a feat. She is also very resilient - while the shot to her shoulders was designed not to kill her, being up back on her feet doing investigation stuff a day after is still very impressive! Her whip might not be as dangerous as a sword or a gun, but she will not relent until she defeats you.
Simon Blackquill: Let me just give it to you straight, Simon Blackquill is 1.88 meter tall, he owns a katana and a trained attack-hawk (giving him both short range and far range advantage), he can break solid metal chains with his bare hands, he can cut your hair halfway across the room with a feather. Not to mention how he could probably use the whole psychological manipulation in battle to intimidate or goad his enemy. There’s not even a lot of funny or interesting points to bring up, he is literally an action movie character who just happens to also be a lawyer.
Athena Cykes: Athena Cykes is the strongest lawyer. One day, she’ll be stronger than whales. I believe in her.
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thatdeadaquarius · 8 months
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Okay so-- i was reading some sagau posts and came across this one where the reader was an army vet and my brain just Did Its Thing--
So now I'm here to inflict this on to you--
Would guns be considered as catalysts. And would they only do Phys Damage.
Me reading this ask:
😶 😐 🤨 🧐 🧐 😰 🥲 😭😭😭 💀
STOP YOU'VE INFLICTED ME WITH PSYCHOLOGICAL DMG FROM THIS ASK 😭
(Also srry took so long to respond, when i didnt realize how short this was/was just sitting over here 😓)
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^ For the sake of gun imagery being a lot/maybe staff might hate me for it,
we'll put this gay shit instead (i almost mispelled to "gay shot" lmao)
Sun: Army Veteran Reader, Gender neutral Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: SHORT Headcanons
Stars: everybody bc i think itd be funny
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: gun stuff, mild violence, mild cursing & Trigger Warnings: Gun fun everywhere
THIS ASK HAS ME GIGGLING TO MYSELF LIKE A MANIAC
You're out here having a whole gun they let you take for off-base
And u ofc have a license so u can conceal carry
(idk how non-american gun laws work, but tbh ours are so fucked idk how they work here either, just that an army guy i knew once could have his gun when he got back home)
And ofc ur just paranoid enough (more like it just makes u feel safe)
That when u get yoinked into a portal to a silly little brightly colored gacha game fantasy world, the gun comes with 💀
Id like to add in my silly little "ur in a video game, so video game rules" AU version of genshin so:
The only other gun (ish) wielder (Mika) has unlimited bolts
Sooo I'd think your gun would be the same jfc lol
NO BC YOUD SCARE THE ACTUAL SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE IN UR VICINITY IN A BATTLE
BC GUNSHOTS ARE A DIFFERENT TYPE OF LOUD
When u first stumble into abyss monsters/hostile creatures of the realm, u nearly scare off a Lawlachurl bc every shot's like thunder to these bitches😭
So not only the monsters but the vision holders think u fucking summoned lightning
OMG THE BULLETS ARE SO FAST THEYD PROBABLY NOT SEE IT
ESP BC DISTRACTED BY GUNSHOT LOUDNESS
SO U AIM THIS LITTLE BLACK CROSSBOW (???) AND THINGS JUST DIE (OR GET RIDDLED WITH HOLES) WITH NO CLEAR ARROW STICKING OUT
STOPP- you're becoming a witchy god or smth to all of Teyvat bc it just looks like hella high level magic atp to them LMAOOO
Rumors of you get out of hand and say u just point or snap ur fingers and things get wounded/just die on the spot 💀
Oh another difference between Teyvatians seeing ur gun vs. crossbow (what they know)
Is that guns are wayyyy more destructive
Like an arrow would get shot but it'd bounce off of things like rock or wood or metal, maybe dent a little depending on how close
But a bullet goes thru that shit so easy, and leaves a whole little explosion behind, once again depending on range
(I once saw a Mythbusters episode? of them proving bullets would definitely go thru car doors, like movies lied to u, this is why drive-bys acc work like for gangs)
Lmao, the image of you in like full armor with a Teyvat made automatic gun after showing it to blacksmiths
Makes u just more convincing as a god, esp bc military training
(Ppl like Gorou and Kokomi begging for military tactics/training ur world has done)
...
....Ok.
I'll address it.
But only so u dont think im stupid later.
Yes, the Fatui have guns.
No, this not the same as having a glock LMAO
End of story.
(Also, urs runs on bullets, whereas the Fatui rely on magic/delusions to power theirs, plus they dont seem as fast or destructive as urs, more "explosions aimed at you" than real bullets)
Which,,, u leave the managing of ppl copying ur gun to ppl like the Qixing or smth, but make sure to give them advice on good gun laws if teyvat accidentally revolutionizes bc of ur advanced gun that anybody can wield (non-vision users)
Thats the best ive got abt that
Oh, also enjoy being praised as a War god now.
:)
... dammit i had smth i was gonna tell u guys-
Uh what tf was it, it was important
OH
Next post is the Eldritch God Oneshot! Look out for it :) !!
Safe Travels Kid,
💀♒️
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♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks
If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
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roseghoul26 · 1 month
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Charles Smith x gn!Reader
"Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 'Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.' He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. 'Yeah?' You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low." Synopsis: A brush with hypothermia forces you and Charles to camp out in an abandoned cabin. Having to resort to some more intimate means of survival, will you be able to keep your feelings in check for the hunter, or will the proximity force you to confess?
Tags: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hypothermia, Huddling for Warmth, yes this is a cuddle for warmth fic, idc if its cheesy, Oral Sex, Gender-Neutral Reader, Fem Anatomy for Reader, Face-Sitting, Love Confessions, but in a twist its not the reader who gets frozen, surprise!
Author's Note: listened to chappell roan the entire time while writing this (hence the title). i also got so distracted by stardew valley my addiction has returned also, there’s a moment where the reader touches charles’ hair. as a non-indigenous person, i’m not fully educated when it comes to hair and the importance it holds in native american culture. i did research, but i could still be wrong. if i have made any errors, please let me know, and i will change it. 
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If you never had to see snow again, you’d die happy. 
Tightening the fur coat around your body, you tried to preserve what heat you had left in you. The cold air of Colter was like a leech, sucking you dry of any warmth and joy. And it wasn’t just affecting you, you noticed. Glancing around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, with as many furs and clothes on their bodies as they huddled around the laughably small fire. 
The gang had been in Colter for about a week, hiding away from the law after the disaster that was Blackwater. You don’t remember much from that day, most of it a blur in your memories, but you remember the bloodshed. Pointless, ruthless bloodshed. You hoped you’d never see something like that again. 
Shivering, you almost regretted giving your extra jacket to Abigail, who had wrapped it around Jack. You were only feet from the fire, but it might as well have been hundreds of miles away with the way it was doing nothing to warm you. With a huff, you rubbed your fingers together, simply sitting and passing the time until someone asked you to do something or you had to go back on guard duty. That was all you could do, really, the snow and remote location making it impossible for you to do your normal robbing and thieving. 
There were many times during this week that you’d debated leaving the gang after you all made it out of Colter. You’d only joined about a year and a half ago, Dutch personally inviting you to his group after hearing about your notoriety across the states. Sure, it was nice to have a group like this, but this wasn’t what you signed up for, especially the events at Blackwater. You were promised opportunity and freedom, not brutality and hiding and cold-blooded murder. You wondered, would it be easy to slip away?
Sighing, you slumped forward, and your  legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor. You were on the precipice of coming to a decision, but there were still some things preventing you from taking the leap. You’d become somewhat close with the members of the gang, your lone wolf attitude dissipating as you created bonds with the others. It was easy to get along with Arthur, the two of you becoming fast friends, frequently doing jobs together. You spent most nights chatting with the girls in camp, chatting until late in the night. You respected Hosea, and even Dutch for some time, the recent events shattering that respect for him. To some degree you’d created a connection with each member of the camp, keeping you tethered to one place. 
There was one person in particular, however, that kept pushing those thoughts of leaving out of your mind. Charles Smith, the taciturn hunter that you’d become weirdly fond of these past few months. You’re not sure what you’d call your relationship with the man. The two of you were friendly, maybe even friends. When Dutch sent you out on jobs together, it always ended well, working together quite decently, if you’d say so yourself. 
Still, you wished you were closer with him, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You found it hard to try and initiate conversation with him, never quite knowing what to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a fool. And when you would talk to him, it felt like you were just talking at him, but if he was annoyed by you, he never showed. He’d just politely nod along, adding a few words here and there. 
But you knew he didn’t dislike you, finding him frequently looking at you around camp, just silently observing. Whenever you’d catch him, he’d just give you a polite smile, before turning away to do something else. Every time he did it, you found yourself grow bashful, your heart skipping in your chest. His starting was certainly not helping the infatuation you had with him.
Yes, your stupid heart had fallen for him, making it hurt to even entertain the idea of leaving. It was ridiculous and irresponsible to have feelings for him, and you knew that. They’d been there since he joined, and you figured that they would’ve gone away by now, but that was months ago. You’d never met a man like him before, someone so strong and fearsome, yet honorable and kind at the exact same time, and you figured that’s why you were so drawn to him.
Arthur knew about your feelings for the man, drunkley telling him during a night out at the bar in Blackwater a few months ago. He almost said something to Charles, who was somewhere in the same bar that night, claiming that ‘this life is unpredictable’ and ‘you gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late’, but you quickly shut that down with a swift kick to the shins. But that didn’t mean he stopped asking you if you’d done anything yet, and each time you’d respond with ‘no’. 
You knew that Charles didn’t think of you that way. You’re unpredictable, reckless, fiery, everything opposite of what Charles is. Where you were chaos, he was calm. Fire, water. And you didn’t want to ruin what relationship you had with him, so you kept your mouth shut (and never got too drunk around him).
A gust of sharp cold wind and the creak of a door broke you from your thoughts, a shiver wracking your body as you turned to see who just entered the cabin. In some cruel timing from the universe, the man who had just been haunting your mind walked in, a fresh dusting of snow hitting the ground as he shook out his jacket. A chorus of greetings came from the group collected around the fire, a gentle smile coming from you before you turned back to face the fire. Charles calling out your name had you slowly turning to him again. 
“Will you go hunting with me? The deer me and Arthur caught didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.” You now noticed the bow in his hand, along with a small quiver of arrows.
“I mean, sure,” you stood up, your cold muscles aching as you stretched, “but I ain’t much of a hunter, ya know. I usually end up scarin’ away animals instead of catchin’ ‘em. The others might be more well-suited for this.”
“But I’m asking you. And I can’t exactly do it myself.” Charles held the bow and arrows out for you to grab. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” Not like I could ever say no to you, you thought as you took the weapon and slung it over your shoulder, and secured the quiver on your hip. “Let’s go.”
With a nod, Charles opened the door, holding it open to let you step outside into the harsh Colter weather. Wincing at the bright light bouncing off the white snow, you were temporarily blinded as you made your way to where your horses were, Charles not far behind you. A light snowfall came down around you as you walked, not terrible visibility wise, but enough to be obvious. You just hoped that it wouldn’t pick up later. 
There was probably a good foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground, making your movement sluggish and awkward. From what little you knew about tracking, though, it meant that it would be easy to pick up an animal's track, so for that you were somewhat grateful. 
It didn’t take long for you to reach your horses, and you went to mount up, only to notice that your horse just wasn’t there. Spinning around, you looked to see if maybe she got unhitched and wandered somewhere nearby, but there was nothing. Whistling, you waited a few moments, seeing if you’d hear the sound of hoofbeats and winnings, but there was nothing. She was just gone.
As Charles mounted, looking equally as confused as you were, you turned and  looked to see who was currently on guard duty, thinking maybe they had seen something. “Javier!” You called out, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. “Where’s Hera?”
“Arthur took her!” He shouted back, and you couldn’t help groaning in annoyance. I’m gonna kill you, Arthur Morgan. 
“And you let him?” Javier had made his way over to you now, and you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you stopped him with a wave. “Nevermind, it’s not your fault or your responsibility. I’m just… frustrated.” You took a deep breath, and a cloud left your lips as you exhaled.  “Where’d Arthur go?” You heard the ground crunch behind you as Charles approached on Taima. 
“I dunno,” Javier shrugged. “Him, Dutch, Micah, and Bill went out a few minutes ago, he’s been borrowing everyone else’s horse since his died. Guess it was Hera’s turn.”
“Well, shit,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t reckon they’ll be back soon, right? Maybe they forgot somethin’?” You missed the way Charles let out an amused huff, your back facing him as you conversed with Javier. 
Javier lightly chuckled. “Look, if you need to go, I’ll let you use Boaz for a bit. It’s not like I’ll be needing him for a bit,” he gestured to the repeater currently in his hands. “If anything happens to him though…” he threatened, gesturing again to the weapon in his hands.
You were about to respond, but Charles beat you to it. “Or you could ride with me. If you’d like.”
You tried to keep your face neutral as you turned to respond, but you had to stop and glare at Javier who was sniggering. Apparently your facial expressions weren’t as subtle as you believed. Thank God you had your back turned, then. 
You turned again, and when you weren't so rudely interrupted by Javier’s childish antics, you responded to Charles. “Are you sure?”
He extended his non-injured hand to you as he nodded. “We gotta get moving though. Only a few hours of sunlight left.”
“Alright.” You linked your hand with his, letting him help you on to the back of his horse with ease. Javier had long since left, already halfway back to his guard post, not before giving you a knowing smile. As you wrapped your hands around his waist, you tried and failed to keep your breathing even, your heartrate picking up substantially. 
Sighing, you refrained from resting your head against his back. This was pure torture, but you knew you were going to enjoy it.
Thank you, Arthur Morgan… I’m still gonna kill you, though. 
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
He wasn’t quite sure why he offered to let you ride with him on Taima; he was just making it harder for himself to stay away from you. He scolded himself, because someone else had your heart, and he would just end up hurting his own if he kept doing things like this. 
The two of you had sped out of Colter, Charles setting a brisk pace that made the air bite at his skin. The pain was good, as it distracted him from thinking of you. You, who subconsciously shifted closer to him to shield yourself from the air. He felt you adjust behind him until his larger frame was shielding you entirely. 
He expected you to have started talking by now, making some comment about the weather or cursing Arthur out. When you didn’t he felt himself start to grow a bit panicked. Did I make you uncomfortable? Is this too much?
He kept his voice steady, and he gently called out your name. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I figure that must come as a relief.” 
I could listen to you for hours, he thought. I don’t ever want to stop hearing your voice. “Are you alright?”
He felt you shift behind him, your hands tightening where they sat on his waist. Your touch wasn’t even improper, yet he still found his breath hitching in his throat. Charles just prayed that the howling winds around the two of you drowned it out. “I think so. It just… this place is really terrible.” When he nodded in agreement, you continued. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. Blackwater, the gang, my future… It's a little bit overwhelming.”
“Do you…  want to talk about it?” He offered, and you sighed. 
“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Blackwater, ‘bout everything we did wrong, what we should’ve done differently, the choices we made. But I especially can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout that girl that Dutch murdered. The way he killed her, no mercy or falter, I ain’t even seen nothin’ like that from him before. Or maybe I chose to look away before…” you trailed off.
“You’re not the one who pulled the trigger. Dutch is the only person guilty of that.”
“Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’m sure as hell ain’t innocent. I could’ve- should’ve done somethin’. There was plenty of time for me to.”
“Don’t go beating yourself up about the past. The only thing we can hope to do is learn from it and continue on towards the future.”
“But the future is just as terrifying as the past! I’m scared for the gang, for its future. We’ve become so bloodthirsty, and now all Dutch talks about is revenge.” Your voice was becoming more and more distressed. “Is that what we’ve turned into? A bunch of no-good killers who think with their guns? I ain’t- I don’t wanna be that. That ain’t what I joined up for.”
Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d noticed that shift in the gang over the last few weeks, the members become quicker to jump to violence and bloodshed. He wasn’t a saint, the blood on his hands equal to yours, but he was even becoming disturbed by the amount of unnecessary killings happening. 
“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout leaving.” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were ashamed to say it. Charles stilled, shock running through his system. “Once we get out of here. This… this isn’t what I wanna do. I don’t wanna be associated with the Van Der Linde gang if it’s gonna continue heaidn’ in the direction it’s goin’. And I don’t wanna find myself at the end of a lawman’s barrel, noose ‘round my neck.”
“Oh.” Charles found himself at an impasse; did he just keep his mouth shut, or say something that might reveal too much? If you truly wanted to leave, then he didn’t want to guilt you into staying by revealing his true feelings. He understood why you wanted to leave, those same thoughts frequenting his mind as well, but he’d found a reason to stay: you. He hadn't told Arthur that when he asked why Charles was still hanging around a few days ago. His conversation with the other man when they hunted had solidified his stay with the gang, for better or for worse.
Did you feel the same way? You fool, Charles chastised himself. They don’t want you that way.
“Does anyone else know?” 
“No,” you sighed. “You’re the only one.”
A selfish part of him was glad that he was the only one that knew, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Well,” he began, “the only thing I can say is to not do something that you’ll regret… and just know that there’s a lot of people here that will really miss you if you decide to leave.” I will miss you so much that it hurts.
He felt your head connect with his back as you slumped forward, and he jolted at the contact. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me, Charles? I trust your judgment.”
Stay. Please, stay, he screamed in his head. “I can’t tell you what to do, how to live your life. Unfortunately, the decision comes to you,” was his reply. 
“You’re right. You’re always right, Charles,” you laughed half-heartedly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Still got a ways until I have to.”
“Whatever decision you come to, I’ll support you.” Liar. “Just… don’t leave without saying goodbye, you hear?”
“I promise. Now,” your usual chipperness returned to your voice, “where are we headin’?”
He explained that he was taking the two of you to Lake Isabella, following the Spider Gorge down. The lake had started to melt, meaning animals were more likely to start coming out as the weather warmed. As the two of you rode, you kept close to him, significantly closer than you were when you left. 
Charles pretended not to notice.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
There wasn’t much to look at on the ride down. Everything was white, splashes of black rock breaking up the monotonous landscape, and the occasional tree made itself known. There weren’t any animals, not even a rabbit. It was like you and Charles were the only living souls in the area.
You only spotted a couple of buildings, two of them a small cabin that could house one or two people. One was absolutely destroyed, time and weather causing the ceiling to collapse in, only a skeleton remaining. The other still stood, smoke coming out of the chimney, but you had no idea if the occupants were home or not. 
Taking a mental note of the building, before returning your attention back forward. Charles seemed to be content with just riding in silence, so you settled against him, your head nearly resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to spill so much to Charles, and you certainly hadn’t meant to tell him that you thought about leaving. It’s just that you felt so comfortable with him that you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you felt ten pounds lighter because of it. 
You didn’t want to drag another person into your troubles, especially over something so trivial in comparison to what the rest of the gang was going through. A part of you wanted this to be the moment in all those cheesy romances you read where the love interest confesses their feelings in order to make the main character stay. But this was real life, and this was Charles you were talking about, the man who would put everyone’s needs before his, even if it hurt. And besides, Charles had never done or said anything that gave you the impression that he had feelings for you. From what you could tell, he saw you as a friend, and nothing else.
Right?
God, you were so desperate for the man you held on to. 
He made no comment when you did actually rest your head on his shoulder. If he did ask why, you’d just say you were cold. You knew you just wanted to pretend that he was yours. 
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. It did little to calm your erratic heart. 
Eventually, the partially frozen Lake Isabella came into view. This area wasn’t too unfamiliar to either you or Charles, having been there a few days prior to dispatch a group of O’Driscolls. Having opened your eyes a few moments prior, you were able to make out a few deer drinking from the newly exposed lake water. You gestured to them, but Charles had already seen them, bringing Taima to a halt behind a large bush.
By this time, the snow had begun to pick up, the sheets coming down obscuring your view ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough to force you indoors. 
Dismounting as quietly as you could, you readied the bow in your hands, letting Charles lead the way as he snuck closer to them. It was almost supernatural, the way he was able to move so silently. For someone of his stature, you’d never expect him to be able to move so quietly and with such ease, yet here he was. You tried your best to move like him, taking a bit longer as you followed in his footsteps. Charles led you around the edge of the lake, the shore edge mere inches from your feet, occasionally splashing against your shoes. 
Luckily, the deer hadn’t noticed either you or Charles, still drinking without a care in the world. He had stopped by now, moving to the side to let you move ahead. The deer were in range by now, and you only needed to move a few feet closer, making you halt underneath a large tree. The branches drooped under the weight of the snow, a few globs falling off and hitting the ground around you. 
Weirdly enough, you felt at peace. Not because of the hunting, but because of the man who stood a few yards behind you. You felt safe under his gaze, like nothing could hurt you. As you drew the arrow back, you let out a confused noise as the deer suddenly scattered, spooked by something you couldn’t see. 
You turned to look back at Charles, but you realized then that you probably shouldn't've had your guard down so much. A large weight dropped on you from the tree, too heavy and too warm to be just snow. You let out a startled cry, blocking out Charles shouting out your name, panic seeping into his voice. 
Whatever fell on you landed on your back, your face pressed in the snow as you lay on your stomach. It clicked now that there was someone on you, a hand yanking your head back by your hair, warm breath assaulting your face as your attacker spoke. You couldn’t quite make out what exactly he was saying, snow and shock causing your hearing to be spotty. All you were able to make out were a few curses, the word “kill” multiple times, and some racist phrases aimed toward Charles.
Even before the initial shock had worn off, you were fighting back, squirming and moving desperately against the man’s grip. He just laughed, then you heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He rested the barrel against the back of your neck, the cold metal pressing against the exposed skin. Dread washed over you, numbing your senses far beyond what the cold could do. With the way the man gripped your head, you couldn’t move it, and you strained your eyes as you looked around, desperate to find Charles. Is he alright? Please, let him be alright. 
You saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as the weight was on you, it was gone. An alarmed yell left your attacker as he was tackled off of you, being pushed a fair distance before falling onto the frozen Lake Isabella. Rolling over, your hand fell into the cold water, and you quickly pulled it back.
Standing as quickly as you could, the world spun for a moment, your body confused with the many different orientations you were just in. Pressing your back against the tree for stability, you watched as Charles and your attacker rolled far across the ice. You saw the distinct green handkerchief around his neck, and you couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left you. No matter where you went or what you did, you couldn’t escape the O’Driscolls. 
Shouts from behind you had you spinning around, quickly drawing your revolver, the bow long since discarded on the ground. Three more O’Driscolls came running from the woods, only a few yards away from you now, their cries of alarm coming from the two bodies of their members lying in the snow, which you had just noticed. Keeping your aim steady, you took three shots, the gunshots cracking through the still air. The first one hit right in the heart, the second one finding a home between his eyes, and the third one hit the final O’Driscoll right above the shoulder, merely grazing the skin, and the only non-fatal shot. Still, it caused all three of them to hit the snow.
With the final man falling relatively close to you, you ran over to him. Pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt, you held your revolver right below his chin, the hot metal burning his skin. He could not have been more than eighteen years old, a sliver of childhood innocence still left in his eyes as he stared up at you, fear and pain rendering him mute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snarled, pressing the barrel harder into his skin. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, boy?”
Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, a few tears leaving him as he stared at you blankly. He was shaking, and you wondered how long he’d run with the O’Driscolls for. He was obviously young, and if this was his reaction to being held at gunpoint, you gathered that he didn’t have a whole lot of outlaw experience under his belt. Against every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you felt yourself loosen your grip on the boy, a pang of sympathy running through you. 
Sighing in exasperation, you holster your gun, a relieved noise leaving him as you did. Glancing forward, you saw two horses hitched to the trees, seemingly the rides that they came in on. “Go,” you waved. “You ain’t even grown.”
“Th-thank you!” He nearly wept, getting to his feet shakily. 
“But if I ever see ya again, especially as a damn O’Driscoll,” your hand hovered above your weapon. “I’ll not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. You hear me?”
“Y-yes.” He clutched at his shoulder. 
“Now go!” you shouted. “Get outta here! Before I change my mind.” As soon as he sped off toward the horses, you turned back toward the lake. Charles stood above your attacker, beating the life out of the man, his face pure crimson. He was using his injured hand, but he paid it no mind. Blow after blow, Charles’s strikes hit true, the thuds echoing across the water.
You really should not have found it as attractive as you did. 
You let yourself watch for a few moments longer, before you were snapping out of it. “Charles!” You called out. Immediately, he was looking up at you, the man below him no longer even on his mind. Wiping away a smear of blood on his cheek, he slowly made his way toward you, his steps slow across the ice. 
Concern etched across his features as his eyes raked over your body, looking for any injury or hurt on you. “Are you alright?” You asked, trying your best to push down the flush of your cheeks as he stalked towards you. He had an almost murderous glint in his eye, his movement predatory; you especially should not have found that attractive. 
“Did he hurt you?” He completely brushed off your question, his eyes wide with panic. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this disheveled and worried before. 
“Only my pride.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Charles opened his mouth to respond, but was promptly cut off when the ground beneath him gave way, the weakened ice no longer strong enough to hold him. Immediately, he was submerged under the water, but luckily he was close enough to the shore that it wasn’t too deep. He reemerged seconds later, sputtering and coughing. 
As soon as you heard the crack of the ice, you were running toward the edge, stepping precariously on the ice. In retrospect, it wasn’t the smartest idea, especially when you started walking towards where Charles fell through, but at the time you didn’t care. All that mattered was getting him out. 
Scanning around, you quickly assessed the best way to save him. The hole that was created was way big enough so he could get his arm up, but as soon as he pressed at the ice it shattered, unable to hold anything. As you stepped closer, you felt it begin to break as well, and you quickly moved back to the shore. 
“Fuck…” your hands went to you head, your gloved fingers pulling at your hair. A large stick from the tree you assaulted jumped down from sparked an idea. Grabbing it, you started chipping away at the ice, smashing and breaking it until a path big enough for Charles to go through was created. Standing at the shore, however, you realized  that neither your arms or the stick was long enough to reach the man, who was starting to get dragged down from the weight of the water in his clothes. 
Quickly unhooking your lasso from your belt, you created a loop for him to grab on to, throwing it at him with an accuracy from years and years of practice. It landed right in front of him, and he grabbed on to it as quickly as he could, his movement sluggish. Wrapping it around your hands, you began to pull him to shore. “Hold on!” you shouted at him, and he let out a noise in response. You’d take that over nothing.
It wasn’t incredibly hard to pull him closer, the water helping carry him over. But once he got to the shore, and you discarded the rope, pulling him up onto the land proved to be almost impossible. Grabbing underneath his arms, you pulled with all the strength you had, the muscles in your back and shoulders crying out in pain, but you paid them no mind. It took an incredible amount of effort, but eventually he was fully out of the water, laying splayed out in the cold snow. 
You didn’t let yourself get a moment to recover, instantly running over to his side. Turning his head toward you, you let out a sigh of relief when you say his eyes flutter open. He was absolutely drenched, his heavy winter gear made even heavier with water, and you watched him begin to shake and his teeth begin to shatter. And, if your luck wasn’t already terrible enough, a full on snowstorm had started, causing cold blasts of snow and wind to pelt your bodies. Chalres shivered even harder, and you let out helped sit him upright. “We gotta get you indoors, and soon. You ain’t gonna-” a lump formed in your throat at the thought. “It ain’t gonna be good for you if you stay out here. I’ll need your help, though. I can’t lift you on my own. Just… just find what energy you can to get up. Please.” You couldn’t help the panic in your voice. To say you were scared would be an understatement. 
You’re not quite sure he fully comprehended what you said, but he started to get up, and you forced him to lean a bit of his body weight against you as he did so. When he was up, you slung his arm over your shoulder, nearly sagging under his weight as he nearly collapsed. You called for Taima, whistlin the same pattern you’d heard Charles use for her. 
Within seconds, the sound of neighing and hoofbeats filled your ears, his loyal steed coming to a halt right in front of the two of you. She let out a worried snort, and you reassured her with some soothing noises. “Alright, Charles. Here comes the worst part.” It took quite a bit of maneuvering and effort, but after a minute Charles sat where you did on the ride there. 
His eyes, which were onced unfocused and confused, had regained some clarity to them, and you heard him mutter out your name. You smiled as reassuringly as you could, before you were mounting up on Taima, sitting in the saddle and the reins in your hands. “Hold on, darlin’.” You were too panicked to notice the name slip out, and you took the gasp from Charles as being from the cold. 
With little urging, Taima moved forward, almost immediately breaking into a gallop. You led her back up the trail, heading toward the cabin you saw on the way down. It would take too long to return back to Colter, and with the way the storm raged around you, you doubted either of you would be able to make it. 
As you rode, you felt Charles slump against you, exhaustion taking over his body. You reached behind with one hand, grabbing his knee and shaking him awake. “I know you hate me right now, but I need you to stay awake for me… please.”
He grumbled something in reply, his speech slurred and indecipherable. 
“I’m gonna talk at you, like I always do,” you tried to joke. “And you’re gonna do what you do, which is nod along and pretend you care. Just… just stay awake. You hear me?”
“I care…” you heard him protest, and you just shook your head.
“Uh-huh.” The wind was biting into your cheeks, and your eyes were watering, but you didn’t dare slow. You filled the couple minute ride with your voice, telling stories of your childhood, or random anecdotes you’d picked up from your travels, to recounting the bar fight you’d gotten into a few weeks prior. Charles, despite being exhausted, kept alert, giving one-word responses from time to time. 
He shivered the entire time, and you couldn’t tell if that was worrying or comforting. Panic was steadily bubbling in your chest, finding it hard to keep focus on your stories. Halfway through the ride, much like you did, he rested his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You suppressed a surprised noise as you felt the freezing skin against your own, his nose and lips unnervingly cold. 
“Stay with me, Charles.”
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
It was cold. 
Everything was cold.
Could hair get cold? It sure felt like it. Charles had never felt such coldness in his life before, and he never wanted to experience it again.
He should’ve never gone on to the ice, his brain was screaming at him.
But he had led with his heart, shoving the man off you and following him on to the ice. As soon as he had seen you go down, the other man on top of you, it was like time had slowed down. He had seen red, the two men attempting to hold him down quickly meeting their ends at the hands of his fury. 
He prided himself on being able to keep calm in situations, his anger rarely ever taking a hold of him, and it had never happened since he joined the gang. Guess that streak was broken now. Not that he had any regrets.
Well, he had a few.
He should’ve registered the footprints in the snow leading up to the base of the tree. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, should’ve not been so distracted by you. He should’ve said something.
Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.
But he’s just a man, and man is selfish. He was glad this happened.
Without this happening, he wouldn’t have his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried into your neck breathing you in. Without this, you wouldn’t have called him darling, causing his heart to thump erratically in his chest. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to pretend right now that you and him were more than friends, a fantasy that he had played out a million times in his dreams.
You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. A shiver wracked his body, and he burrowed deeper. God, he was so cold. And so tired.It would be so easy to just close his eyes, to let unconsciousness wash over him… 
He was jolted awake by a hearty shake of his knee, and he heard your voice break through the fog of his brain. 
You had such a lovely voice. He hated how worried it sounded, and all because of him. Or maybe he was happy you were worried about him. He couldn’t tell. Everything was unclear. The only thing he was certain about was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that grew with each glance and each soft word from you.
He was in love with you.
Stupidly in love, in fact. 
He couldn’t stop himself, the words tumbling from his lips like a freefall. But it came out as gibberish, and he felt you shake your head, unable to comprehend him.
That’s alright. He’d repeat it as many times as you needed. 
And as another shiver tore through him, he felt you rub his thigh reassuringly. Despite the thick material of your gloves, he could feel the warmth of your skin, practically burning against his frosty skin. The butterflies in his chest bubbled to life, and he couldn’t stop the small laugh he let out. 
He was infatuated.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
The short ride felt like forever, the monotonous landscape that had once been soothing now tormenting you as you searched for the cabin you saw prior. The smoke trail was impossible to spot out in the snowstorm, so you used what limited navigation skills you had to get you there. 
Eventually, the frame of the cabin broke through the sheet of snow, and you nearly cried in relief. You were starting to freeze, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Charles was feeling. Taima huffed as you brought her alongside the entrance, the steam from her snout dissipating instantly. Quickly dismounting, Charles nearly fell off when you moved, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 
“Oh, no you don’t,” you snarled, roughly shaking him awake. Yes, you were threatening the hypothermic man. No, you did not care. You were almost inside, and you were not going to lose him. “Do not pass out on me, Charles Smith. Now, let’s get you off Taima.”
Charles muttered out an apology, his eyes reopening as he struggled to get off. His clothes were starting to solidify, clumps of ice forming across his jacket. You helped as best you could, catching him when his feet made contact with the ground, nearly sending you both to the snow. Again, you slung his arm over your shoulder, your other arm holding your gun as you entered the cabin, ready to clear out any homeowners. 
A blast of heat hit both of you as you creaked the door open slowly, and you heard Charles sigh with relief. A quick scan around proved that it was empty, and you gently set Chalres in front of the still burning fire. You realized now that the occupants were probably some of the O’Driscolls that just jumped you, and the cabin now stood empty for you and Charles. Relaxing slightly, you put away your gun, then added a few more logs to the fire pit, the flames lapping at the wood eagerly. 
To call the cabin small would be an understatement. It was large enough to fit both you and Charles comfortably, but you can’t imagine that the few O’Driscolls camping here temporarily had a lot of legroom . A single twin sized bed was lined up against the wall, cloth and other materials covering the windows beside it. There was a fireplace, a small stewpot, a nightstand, and a chair. Extra sleeping bags and rugs adorned the floor, a few cans of fruits and vegetables scattered across the floor. You saw the occasional empty bottle of alcohol, and you even found a pack of cigarettes. 
Charles seemed to wake some, the warmth of the fire breathing some life back into him. You saw him look around, body still shaking. He looked even worse than you thought, his normally warm-toned skin devoid of any color, and his hair was plastered to his face. As you crouched down in front of him, you went to push back a few strands, your gloves long since discarded, but you refrained. 
“A-Are you alright?” You heard him ask again through chattering teeth, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even though he saw freezing, likely suffering from hypothermia, he was more worried about your well being.
“I’m not the one who fell into the freezing lake. What were you thinking?” You weren’t angry, your words surprisingly gentle despite the fear in your heart. 
“I-I wasn’t… I-” his body cut him off, shivers wracking his body. 
“We gotta get these clothes off of you,” you picked at the offending garment, the material barely budging. You started to work the heavy coat off his shoulders, the roaring wind outside the only noise.
Suddenly, Charles was grabbing at your wrist, stalling your movement. You were halfway done with taking it off, the water melting off of it coating your hands. “Taima…” you heard him say.
“I’ll go make sure she’s secure,” you quickly rose to your feet. “Just get undressed. We need to get you warmed up.”
Stepping outside, the gusts hitting your body caused you to let out a curse. Taima was  still where you left her, stomping impatiently in the ground, shaking out her coat as she tried to keep warm. When you clicked your tongue, she came prancing over, ready to get out of the wind. 
You led her to the attached stall, which was in pretty decent condition. It blocked out a lot of the wind, and it shared a wall with the fireplace, letting some of the warmth to the horses as well. There was some hay left scattered on the ground, and you took off her saddle, setting it on the stand. You left the horse blanket on, giving her some extra protection. 
When you were done, you moved to leave, and you felt Taima brush affectionately against your head, nuzzling her snout into your shoulder. Laughing, you pet her neck affectionately before she removed herself to continue eating at the hay. Making sure the gate was secure, you headed back into the cabin. 
Charles was still undressing when you entered, his back to you. Even his undershirt was soaked through, the material clinging to his body like a second skin. It was at that point it clicked that the man you were infatuated with was going to be bare before you soon. You found yourself turning away, uncharacteristically embarrassed, shrugging off your own jacket and laying across the back of the chair. If it was any other person, you’d’ve not reacted this way, your lifestyle not allowing for much privacy. But of course it had to be Charles getting undressed in front of you, and you found yourself growing quite warm. 
Taking the lasso from your belt, you strung it across the room, making a makeshift clothesline to hopefully dry his clothes faster. His jacket, which was a wet pile of fur, was the first to be hung up, the rope creaking precariously under the weight. Luckily, it held, and you added each new item as he took it off. 
You made sure not to look directly at Charles, and you saw in your peripheral vision as he worked off his shirt. Your throat was suddenly dry, hands shaky as you continued to hang items up. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Charles? It was like God was tormenting you, giving you what, but keeping it just out of reach. 
You must’ve made a noise, because Charles was turning toward you, concerned. You finally let yourself look at him. He was partially done unbuttoning his shirt, the collar open, but you saw that he was struggling with the small buttons, his fingers barely working. “May I?” you asked, gesturing toward his shirt. The sooner he was out of the wet garment, the better.
He paused for a second, contemplating. “Yes,” he consented, lowering his hand at his side. Stepping forward, your hands resumed his work, quickly undoing the rest of it. Do not make a big deal of this, you repeated in your mind. You were simply helping a friend not die from hypothermia, not unbuttoning the shirt of the person you were hopelessly in love with. He shrugged it off, practically peeling it from his body. You were especially careful to only look him in the eye now, not daring to look at his newly exposed chest. 
Turning your back to him to hang up the shirt, the unmistakable clang of his belt hitting the floor had you stilling. Exhaling shakily, you heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, all making themselves comfortable on the floor. You didn’t dare turn around to grab them. Instead, you headed towards the bed, pulling off the heavy duvet. Walking backwards, you held it out to him behind you. You heard him murmur out a small thanks, taking the blanket from your outstretched arms. 
You gave him a few moments. “Are you… decent?” you asked, keeping your gaze up even with your back turned. When he gave a noise of confirmation, you finally turned back around. After situating his discarded clothing, you gathered some of the canned goods strewn about before setting your boots next to Charles’ beside the fire. You sat down next to him on the various furs and bedrolls. Charles had the blanket wrapped around his body, and you tried really hard to not concentrate on the fact that he was completely bare under the duvet. 
You opened one of the cans with your knife, tossing the lid of it behind you and handing it to the man beside you. “Eat. You need to get your strength up.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us. Now, eat.” You pushed the can of what looked to be sweetcorn in his hand, and he finally took it, tipping it back into his mouth and eating slowly. 
He was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming more and more alert, and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Quickly finishing the can of food, he placed the empty can beside him, rubbing his hands together beneath the blanket. You were looking into the fire, and you could feel his eyes on you. He didn’t say anything, just observing you like he normally did. 
This time, however, it felt like his eyes were picking you apart, like he could see every secret beneath your skin. Clearing your throat, you stood up, gathering up the remainder of his clothing and hanging them up. You were scared that the longer you sat by him, the likelihood of you having to confront your secrets would increase tenfold. “You need anythin’? More food? Water? Coffee?” You asked, drying your hands on your pants. 
“I’m g-good,” he responded. 
“Have you warmed up at all?” He shrugged in response, the action barely noticeable with the heavy blanket around his shoulders. You didn’t bother to hide the concerned frown on your lips as you crouched beside him. Running the back of your hand, you winced when you were met with deathly cold skin. “Shit…” you cursed, pulling your hand away, and you failed to notice Charles chasing after your warmth.
Standing up, you began to pace the room, trying to keep the dread you felt at bay. Your mind was running wild with thoughts, all ending in worse case scenarios. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to keep calm, just for Charles’ sake. You wouldn’t do him any good if you were freaking out. You tried to think back on the basic first aid you’d learned through the years. Most of the things you’d already done, like getting him out of wet clothing, getting him food, getting him in front of a fire. Was there anything else you could do? Or did you just have to sit and wait and pray that what you did was enough.
You knew Charles was watching you pace, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. You ran your fingers through your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally remembered. Body heat, which means… oh. 
Goddamn it all. 
You hoped you didn’t look too alarmed. It’s not that you were opposed to the idea, but it would make it significantly harder to bottle up your feelings. In fact, doing this might just smash the bottle all together, causing you to spill your heart to him. “So…” you began nervously. How the hell were you supposed to ask this?
“So…?” Charles repeated, raising a brow. 
“I-I… well…” you ran your hand over your face. The wall was looking quite interesting right now. “I was wondering if you’d like… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’... if you’d like for me to share my warmth?” That sounds so weird. “It’s just, you’re not gettin’ any better… and I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” The last part you whispered, and you doubted he even heard it. 
Something flickered across Charles’ face, too quick for you to recognize. He looked conflicted, and you chewed nervously on your lips. Did I cross a line? Oh God, did I make this weird? He’s gonna hate me-
“I’d like that,” his voice cut off your minds’ rambling. 
Letting out a breath of relief, you gave him a small smile, which he returned. Okay, this is happening. Again, do not make a big deal of this. This means nothing. Your hands, which weren’t steady, began to work at your button up. Charles slowly looked away, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’m not gonna take everythin’ off,” you reassured, taking the look in his eye as concern. Taking your gun belt off and setting it on the bed, your pants and socks were off next, joining the belt, leaving you in only your undergarments. 
Slowly, you approached him, your steps uncertain across the bedrolls and furs. You tried to keep calm, but the reality of what was going to happen quite soon was causing your heart to pound against your ribs. He watched you approach, head turned back around. You couldn't imagine it was comfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. 
Finally, you stood in front of him, partially blocking the fire, which caused your shadow to cast over Charles. Without breaking eye contact with you, he pulled the blanket back, inviting you in. Your shadow, thankfully, blocked out any newly revealed skin, but you still found a blush creeping up your neck. 
Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you sat yourself on his lap. With your legs wrapping around his hips, your ankles were barely able to interlock. His following sigh sounded pleased, and you found yourself smiling as he wrapped the blanket around the two of you, creating something akin to a cocoon. He kept his hands braced on the ground beside him, refraining from touching you.
Charles was indeed freezing, and you let out a discontent noise at the contact. “Sorry,” you more felt than heard him say, your faces mere inches apart. 
“I should be the one who’s sayin’ that…” you sighed, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, beginning the process of warming his body back to a normal temperature. “I should’ve been payin’ better attention, then we would’ve never ended up in this mess.” Not that I’m complaining too much. 
The two of you sat together for a few minutes, letting Charles simply enjoy your body heat. “I don’t think either of us were expecting an O’Driscoll to come falling out of a tree.” You heard him say.
“It certainly wasn’t on my list of things to happen today,” you laughed, your hands moving down his shoulders to his biceps. Having him under your touch like this really put into perspective his sheer size. “And neither is this. Any of this. I’m sure you weren’t plannin’ on takin’ a bath in Lake Isabella today.”
“Can’t say I was. But, you-” Charles cut himself off, his eyes widening the tiniest bit. If you weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You gave him a confused look, and he just shook his head. “It’s nothing. I almost said something foolish,” he tried to dismiss, embarrassment evident on his face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say somethin’ foolish the entire time I’ve known you.” You tugged at one of his arms, bringing it between your bodies after he shifted his weight on to the other arm. You clasp his uninjured hand between yours, blowing hot air and trying your best to return some life back to the ice cubes that were his fingers. “You know I ain’t gonna tease you for what you say, right?”
“I know,” Charles sighed, but he didn’t elaborate further. You didn’t push, not wanting to wreck this moment between the two of you. You felt him flex his fingers between yours, a relieved noise leaving him as more feeling returned to them. Eventually, you let go of his hand, but it seemed like he didn’t quite know where to put it, hovering a few inches above your waist before returning back to the ground. “You can touch me, Charles.”
You held back a content noise when you finally felt him grasp your waist, his fingers resting on the waistband of your undergarments. Occasionally, his fingers would brush your bare skin, your undershirt having rid up when you had sat down, and you felt goosebumps erupt across your skin. 
Moving to his injured hand, you eyed the now wrecked bandage, blood and water causing the material to practically dissolve. You tsked disapprovingly, and began to peel off the old wrapping, discarding them across the cabin. You were expecting to see the wound completely reopened, especially because of the punches he threw at the O’Driscoll, but were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty much healed injury. It was slightly irritated, sure, but it must’ve been healed for at least a day or two.
“And here I was scared that we’d have to chop off your hand,” you joked, flipping his arm over as you examined the now scar. “This has been healed for a day or two now. You’re probably only gonna have a light scar from this.” Realization dawned on you, and you chuckled. “Charles, you could’ve gone huntin’ on your own today.”
“I could’ve.” He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Still, I did want to do it with you, but I could’t just ask. I needed an excuse.”
“You never need an excuse, Charles. I’ll gladly go huntin’ with you, injured hand or not.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You felt him squeeze your hip gently, a playful grin on his face. It had your stomach doing somersaults, and you tore your eyes away to begin warming up his other hand. It was strange, seeing him so carefree like this. It was a look you’d never really seen on him, but you rather enjoyed it. “Only hunting?” he asked.
“Maybe,” you teased, drawing out the syllables. “Whatcha have in mind?”
“Not quite sure yet. But it’ll just be us.”
“Like a date?” You joked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 
“Sure. Like a date.”
A giddy smile cracked across your lips, and you gingerly kissed the back of Charles’ hand before letting it go, where it immediately joined his other by settling on your waist. Your ears were burning, a flustered blush growing across your body. Here you were, sitting on a naked Charles’ lap, only the thin material of your undergarments separating the two of you, but the thing that made you bashful was him asking you on a date. 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, the hands on your waist moving up your back, keeping your body pressed close to him. The digits were still a bit chilled, but you didn’t mind. The blanket around the two of you was barely hanging on at this point, and you tried your best to keep it around him. Like he did on the horse, you felt him bury his face in the crook where your neck and shoulders connected. 
Although it was significantly less cold than the last time, you still shivered at the contact. You felt his lips brush against the skin, and you could barely feel the light kiss he pressed there, gone in an instant. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind at that moment. You mostly felt relieved, your feelings for the man no longer feeling so one-sided. Your mind was so loud, in fact, that you barely heard him mumble something against your skin. You realized that he was thanking you, and you responded with a confused noise.
“You saved my life today. Twice. I haven’t thanked you yet.”
“I wouldn’t’ve just left you, Charles. I couldn’t. I…” you trailed off, a confession ready to leave your lips. The bottle had cracked, its contents spilling out as you tried to damndest to keep it all contained. “If I remember correctly, you also saved me today. Nothin’ good would’ve happened if you weren’t there today.”
You felt him tense, an almost pained sound leaving him. “When I saw you like that… I don’t ever want to see that again.”
You moved back so that you could see him again, and you cupped the side of his face with your hand, relieved to find the skin significantly warmer than it was moments ago. “I’m alright. Thanks to you, I’m safe.” 
He relaxed slightly, but his eyes were filled with so much sadness that it had you frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” he whispered, resting his own hand atop yours. “The best thing in my life, and I almost lost it today.” Both of you seemed surprised by his words, but you didn’t let him backtrack.
“But you didn’t. You are the one who got that man off me, and showed him the error of his ways.”
He chuckled at that, but then another frown adorned his lips. “I didn’t… unsettle you, right? I… I saw your eyes widen after you called me off him. You’re not-”
“Never. I know you’d never hurt me.”
Relieved, you felt him go fully lax under your touch. His whole body had returned to a normal temperature, you noted, the heat under the blanket beginning to become sweltering. With your thumb, you stroked his cheek, feeling the raised skin of the scar across his cheek. He let go of your hand, moving it back to the ground to keep the two of you propped up as you leaned forward. The duvet fell slightly, exposing his shoulder to the air, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.”
He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. “Yeah?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low.
You nodded, the fingers on his cheek moving to brush a few strands away from his face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out but not because of the low light. “I always think you look beautiful,” you murmured. 
He hummed in response, and you felt the hand on your back creek up, resting at the nape of your neck. He didn’t pull you forward, he just held you. “Next to you, however, I imagine I look quite plain.”
“Oh, hush,” you chided while smiling. 
“I’m serious.” You felt him play with the hair at your neck, fingers running lightly through the strands. “It’s distracting, how beautiful you are. Whenever I walk into a room and you’re in there, you’re the first thing I look at, and I can never bring myself to look away. At night at camp, you look so at ease, the fire illuminates your face in a way that makes you look ethereal. I can do nothing but watch you, too stunned to speak. You plague every waking thought, and you haunt my dreams. You’ve unknowingly burrowed yourself into my heart, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You were at a loss for words, your mouth moving but no words actually came out. Choosing to ignore the way your heart celebrated, you let out an airy chuckle. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.” 
He laughed. “I can keep it short, if you’d like?”
“I didn’t mean that,” you scoffed. “What could possibly condense all that?”
Charles gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe you hadn’t caught on by now. A part of you knew what he was going to say, but you wouldn't believe it. You needed to hear it from his lips. The hand playing with your hair stilled, the only sound being the crackling fire behind you. 
“I’m in love with you.” 
He said it like it was the simplest thing ever, like it hadn’t just completely flipped your world upside down. He had taken your bottled up feelings and opened it himself. Taking your responding silence as a negative thing, you felt his hand fall slightly, a worried look crossing his face. You didn’t give him much time to worry, pulling him closer with the hand still cupping his face. Your foreheads connected, and your lips were almost brushing. “You mean it?” 
“Of course.”
“Well… for how long?”
“How long have I been with the gang?”
Surprised, you laughed lightly, and he visibly looked confused. “So this entire time, you felt the same way?”
It took a second for him to process your words, a wide grin appearing when he did. “I guess so.” He paused for a moment, and you felt him take a deep breath. “You love me?” He asked, his voice small and uncertain. 
You moved your face back an inch, giving you room to nod. “I do. For the same amount of time, too. I was too scared to say anythin’, I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. And I kinda thought I annoyed you to death,” you chuckled. “But if today reminded me of anythin’, it’s that this life is too unpredictable to have regrets.”
“Arthur gave you that lecture too?”
You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn't heed your warning about not playing matchmaker with you and Charles. But still, you might have to thank him later. “Despite what he claims, he’s a nosy bastard.”
He hummed in agreement, and a silence hung over the room, anticipation heavy in the air. With the lightest touch, you felt him bring you forward with the hand on the back of your head. “I wanna hear you say it,” you heard him ask. 
“I love you, darlin’.” Both hands now cupped his cheeks, and you hovered your lips above his. “Kiss me?”
“Gladly.” You felt his hand move to cradle your head, pulling you in the final distance until your lips were colliding. There was only a hint of chill left on his skin, easily melting away against your warm mouth.  His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and you let out a pleased sigh. It was a surprisingly quick kiss, and you sucked in a breath when you felt him pull away, his eyes blown out. 
He was also panting, and his fingers wove into your hair, like he was grounding himself. Moving forward, you tried to reconnect your lips, but he moved his head so that your lips collided with his cheek instead. A jolt of panic shot through your body, thinking you horribly misread the situation. “I want… I want this,” he reassured. “But I want to make sure you want this. That you want… me.”
You’d never met a man like Charles Smith, and you’re sure you’d never meet another like him. Never, ever had you heard of or met a man explicitly asking for consent like this, and it got you more excited than you thought it would. “I’ve wanted this for a while now,” you admitted, resting your touch on the junction where his shoulders and neck met. “I’ve dreamed of a moment like this more times than I can count. I want you, Charles. I need-”
In a complete switch up, he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your words. If the first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, this one was hungry and confident, lips eagerly moving against yours. He was practically devouring you, like he couldn’t get enough of you. With every small noise that left you, he seemed to grow more bold, and you felt the fingers in your hair tug slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it caused your lips to part. Within seconds his tongue swept into your mouth, eager to explore you. 
The blanket had long since fallen off, bunched up on the ground surrounding the two of you. Pushing him lightly on his shoulders, you eased him on his back. Your hands planted on his chest when he made contact with the furs, your lips not separating for a moment. He was a pleasant temperature under your fingers, his skin surprisingly soft, just like his lips. You were straddling his waist now, your hands barely keeping you from laying your entire weight on the man. 
He had let go of your head, his hands moving to your waist to keep you secure. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. A part of you wanted him to, but you didn’t say anything. If he wanted you like you wanted him, then there would be a next time.
Rocking your hips, you felt a growing hardness barely separated by your thin undergarments. You felt him groan when you did so, and he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he moved his head away to suck in some air, your hands snaked back up his neck, nearly covering his ears. You’d thought your attempts at warming him up were fruitful, but when you felt how cold his ears were, you made a concerned noise, your lust temporarily forgotten. “Your ears are freezing…”
He looked like he couldn’t care less, but then a mischievous smile crossed his face. “You gonna warm them up, then?”
“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” You giggled, and you made sure that your hands fully covered them. You had easy access to his lips, and you gave him a quick kiss. 
“Not with your hands, my love.”
You smiled at the endearment, but his statement confused you. Cocking your head to the side, you moved your hands off his face, settling them back on his chest. “What-?”
You didn’t get to finish your question, the hands on your hips effortlessly pulling your up toward his face. Your knees now straddled the sides of his head, your thighs practically where your hands were, covering his ears. You looked down at him with wide eyes, a flush creeping up your neck at the implications. Surely he doesn't want that, right?
Charles let out a satisfied noise, and with his hands now on your thighs he eased you on to him. You let him, but you kept a few inches between his mouth and your body. He genuinely seemed upset by that, and you felt him press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.
“Please, let me taste you,” he pressed another kiss to the inside of your legs, this one closer to your aching center. If he moved any closer, he was bound to feel your wetness through the fabric. “I want you to fall apart on my face.”
You exhaled shakily. “You want to?” You asked, almost in disbelief. This man was unreal.
He nodded, the action causing his chin to brush against your center. “Let me make you feel good, my love.” When he pulled you down again, you didn’t keep any distance between the two of you. You felt him press a kiss to your clothed center, a smug grin on his face when he felt your arousal. He didn’t say anything, just pulling you down closer to his face until your legs were fully wrapped around his head, no space between the two of you. 
You felt his tongue flick out, simply tasting you through the damp fabric. He did it again, and again, and his hands tightened on your thighs. He was indirect with his tongue, but each swipe had you letting out small moans. A mix of his saliva and your arousal was causing the fabric to become even more wet; they were most certainly going to be wrecked. 
The small kitten-licks were nice, but you needed more. Charles knew this too, and you felt him work his fingers under the material of your undergarments, pulling them down your ass and thighs. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually the garment was off, being tossed somewhere to the side by you, leaving you in only your undershirt.
He wasted no time, pulling you back down onto his face with a growl. Parting you with a pass of his tongue, he let out a pleased noise, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. Charles was insatiable now, lapping and drinking you like you were the best goddamn meal he’s ever had. His eyes were hooded, drunk on you. When his broad strokes turned into concentrated flicks on your clit, you moaned loudly, your thighs turning vice-like around his head. 
It spurred him on, working your clit with markman’s accuracy, bringing you closer and closer to your climax in record time. You heard him groan something under you, and you let out a breathy sigh when you realized he was groaning your name over and over again.  
This entire time, you had kept your hands to yourself, but you were growing more and more desperate to touch him. Reaching down, your hands tangled in his hair, and then almost immediately releasing it like it burned you. For a second, you panicked, thinking yet again you crossed a line, which seemed to be a repeating event this evening. You knew his hair was an important part of his culture, and you would never forgive yourself if you did something to upset him.
Without even slowing down a beat, you felt him grab your hand, leading your back towards his head. He closed his eyes when he felt you weave your fingers through the locks, his hips bucking when you tugged slightly. 
You were getting close now, and you felt yourself moving against his face in time with his tongue. “Charles,” you whined, and he hummed in response. “I’m- I’m gettin’ close, darlin’,”
As you neared your release, you heard the sound of skin-on-skin from behind you. Turning around, you saw Charles stroking himself, getting off to eating you out. “Oh my God… Charles…” you breathed out, barely able to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight behind you.
His eyes were hazy with lust as he peered up at you from between your legs, and you could feel yourself begin to tip over the edge. Sighing out his name, you felt him grin. Before you could even process it, he sucked on your clit, pushing you over that edge as you came hard on his face. You were crying out his name, but your voice sounded distant to your ears, temporarily out of your body as you orgasmed. Charles kept his tongue moving as you came, drawing out every bit of pleasure from your body.
It took you a few moments to recover, and the first thing you were able to hear was the obscene noise leaving Charles’ mouth as he drank in your release. Secondly, you realized you had a death-grip on Charles’ hair, and you quickly let go, and you tried to apologize, but your words were jumbled. He continued to lap at you, but it quickly became too much, your body beginning to feel overstimulated. You rolled off of him, being mindful of the fireplace even in your post-orgasmic haze.
Glancing over at Charles, you found him already watching you, just like he would do in camp. With a soft smile, you scooted closer until you were pressed into his side. He gave you his arm to la on, and you felt him kiss the top of your head. It was silent between the two of you, simply taking the moment to catch your breaths and recover. 
You couldn’t help looking down, though, having to stifle a gasp when you saw how big he actually was, having only gotten a glimpse of him early. He was going to feel good, but you knew you would be sore for a few days after. Not that you cared. 
Looking back up at him, you let your fingers trail up his chest, resting right above his heart. It was beating erratically, just like yours, and you heard him let out a noise when your fingers “accidently” brushed over his nipple. You heard him whine out your name, and you slowly sat up. You were able to see him clearer now, and he looked like a mess. His face was covered in your slick, glistening in the firelight, and his hair was all tousled from your fingers. But the best part was the pure bliss on his features.
It was almost comical, the way his eyes snapped open when you pulled off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “You’ve got somethin’ on your face,” you tried to joke, but your voice was quite hoarse. You tossed your shirt at him, giving him something to wipe his mouth with. He merely set it to the side, unbothered with the mess. Propping himself up with an arm, he offered you his free hand, pulling you forward when you took it in yours.
You nearly fell right on top of him, your muscles pure jelly. Laughing, you were just able to get upright before he was kissing you. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but you found you didn’t mind. You didn’t keep your lips on his for too long, moving down his jaw, then down his neck. You weren’t straddling his hips, so the positioning was a tad bit uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. 
Moving down further, you trailed kissed across his collarbones, then down his sternum, his breathing growing uneven as you went lower and lower. A hand now rested on the back of your head as you continued downward, reaching a patch of hair that started at his belly button. It surprised you, the rest of his body being relatively hairless, but you weren't complaining. In fact, you were imagining seeing it peek out from under his shirt as he stretched, his clothing riding up with his arms. Even though it was relatively innocent in the light of everything else the two of you were doing, it had you pressing your thighs together, trying to relieve the returning ache between them.
Following the happy trail, you ran your fingers through the hair as you adjusted closer to his member. His was achingly hard at this point, and his breathing stilled when you ghost your lips over the tip. Leaning over him, you flicked your tongue out, licking up the bead of precum. The hand and your head tightened into a ball, and you could tell he was fighting every urge to buck himself down your throat. Next time, you thought. 
Moving down further so that you sat between his legs, you spit into your hand before you grasped him. He was velvety soft as you slowly began to stroke him, a mix of your name and a moan leaving his lips as you did so. With heavy eyes and part lips, he watched you pleasure him. “You feel so good in my hand,” you murmured, “butI think you’ll feel even better in me, no?”
His response was slightly incoherent, but you could tell he was agreeing with you. “In a second, darlin’. I wanna taste you, too.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Charles found his voice again, although it sounded very strained.
“But I want to. Don’t make me beg for it.” You weren’t really intended to suggest anything, but the look on Charles’ face at your comment had you grinning. “Unless you want me to?”
“I-” he was stunned, but you could tell he was imagining it, and liking it. 
“Please, darlin’, let me suck your cock,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “I bet you taste so good… just let me taste you, please. I need it so bad, darlin’. I need your cock-”
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Charles cursed, which was more arousing than you thought it would be. “Yeah, go ahead, my love.”
Pressing one last kiss to the tip, you flattened your tongue and ran it up his length, and you heard him moan. You did it a few times, receiving a similar reaction each time. Eventually, you slowly took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around while doing so. Taking more and more of him into your mouth, you were only able to take him halfway before he was pressing against the back of your throat, and you relaxed as best you could, not wanting to trigger your gag reflex.
Taking the rest of him in your hand, you began to bob your head up and down. Hollowing your cheeks until you reached the tip of him, you then ran your tongue across the slit, before moving back down his length, keeping your tongue flat. You repeated this action for a while, falling into an easy rhythm. You felt him buck up a few times, but other than that he kept his hips relatively still, letting you have your way with him. His hand didn’t push you further down him, he just simply held you, moving back the hairs that tried to fall in your face. 
You heard him moan out your name, and you groaned. “You feel so good, my love,” he praised. His words turned into a surprised moan, whe, with your free hand, started moving slowly up his thigh, moving inward until you brushed against his balls. He nearly jumped with the contact, causing his cock to go further down your throat than you'd like, causing you to rear back coughing. 
Immediately, he was apologizing. His hand was now on your cheek, wiping away the spit around your mouth as you recovered. “Are you alright?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting your voice at that second. You could tell that he still felt bad, and you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. 
“I’m alright,” you managed to get out, and you cleared your throat some more. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”
“So did you, touching me like that” he teased, his earlier concerns dissipating when he saw that you truly were okay. “I wasn’t gonna last long even before you did that.” Pulling you up to him, he kissed you, and you finally straddled his waist, his cock resting between your bodies. 
You weren’t given much time to savor his lips before your world was quite literally turning as he flipped you on to your back. The furs nestled nicely against your skin, and you locked your legs around Charles’ waist, grinding yourself against his member. His head fell against your chest, and you felt him brush feather-light kisses across your skin, much like you did. But a new eagerness had overtaken you, and you grinded again against him, and you felt him chuckle. “Patience, my love.”
“I’ve waited long enough, Charles. I need you in me.”
“You think you’re ready for me?” If those words came out of any other man, you would’ve laughed at the arrogance those words held. But you knew it came out of a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing, scared of hurting you. He was large, and you knew that it was probably going to hurt when he entered you, but your lust fueled brain did not care. You need him in you now, consequences be damned.
“Please,” you whispered, and he adjusted so that his face was level with yours. 
“Alright, but if at any point-”
Kissing him quickly, you smiled at him, brushing back a long strand of hair that fell in his face. “I will. I trust you. Now,” you kissed him again, “fuck me.”
He didn’t respond, pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose before you felt him press into you. He kept his eyes on your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly entered you. The initial breach was always the worst part, and you couldn’t help the slight grimace that crossed your features as he breached your entrance. He halted, but you urged him further by pressing your heels into his back. 
The stretch was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, satiating a need you didn’t know you had. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled your face against yours, resting your foreheads together. “God, you feel so good,” you panted as he pressed himself deeper into you. You were certain that he was going to ruin you for any other man. 
Hearing him chuckle made you realize you said that last part aloud. “After this, you’re stuck with me, my love.”
Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and you were curious to see how deep his possessive side went, you pushed further. “Am I now?” Yes. 
For a second, it seemed like Charles couldn’t tell that you were teasing, but when he saw the playful glint in your eye he played along. “Do you think anyone else could make you feel like this?”
He was nearly fully sheathed in you, and you fought the urge to just pull him the rest of the way into you “I dunno. If I remember right, I asked you to fuck me. It sure don’t feel like you’re doin’ that.”
Finally, he was fully in you, your hips flushed together. You both let out content moans, and Charles gave you a moment to adjust. “You want me to fuck you?” He confirmed, and the words sounded even filthier coming from his mouth. 
“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.” 
Letting out something akin to a growl, he pulled out of you quickly, leaving only the tip in before he was slamming back into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. He set a brutal pace, and your head rolled back, your moans and cries filling the air. With the way your head was, it caused your back to arch, meaning your breasts were right in his face. With zero hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking and toying with the nipple in his mouth. Releasing it, he switched to the other one, making sure to give both apt attention. 
Tugging at his hair, you brought his attention upwards. Smashing your lips against his, your kiss was open-mouth and messy, more tongue and teeth than anything. His hips were snapping against yours, incessant as he pounded into you. 
“Yes! Charles,” you wailed, tearing your lips away from his to do so. He kept his lips busy, nipping and kissing the skin at your jaw and neck. A particularly hard bite had you gasping, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way; all that you could register was him, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he looked. 
He leaned over you now, broad arms caging your head in. His dark hair fell in waves around him, blocking out any other visual in the room. All you could do was look at him, and he was a sight for sore eyes. Color had long since returned to his cheeks, the skin there darkening with exertion. His eyes were locked on to you, dancing around your face and chest like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to look at. His plush lips were parted, soft gasps of air leaving him with each thrust.
Another snap of his hips had you grasping at his back and shoulders, pleasuring washing over you as another orgasm began to build up. Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, but it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, he let out a low moan, and it had your cunt clenching around his cock. 
Babbling his name, your nails ran down his back, leaving in its wake angry red lines. “You feel so good… like you were made for me.”
“My love…” he sighed, and one of the hands at the side of your head cupped your face,  bringing you right to his lips. His length was reaching places in you that you didn’t know existed, filling you deep and hard, just like you wanted. You were going to become addicted to him. 
“I’m so close, Charles…” Releasing one of his shoulders, you snaked your hand between your bodies, moving to start touching yourself. You weren’t expecting him to quickly grasp your wrist, bringing it out of the way and replacing your hand with his much larger one. He began to rub at your clit, slow circular movements that juxtaposed the fast in-and-out of his cock. His ministrations had you seeing stars, and you felt yourself reaching completion again that night. 
“Charles, I-”
“I know. Let me feel you fall apart.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
His slow movements turned rapid, groaning when he felt you clench around him. With a cry of his name, you came, pleasure rolling over you in waves. This one was stronger than the first, feeling like every nerve in your body had been set aflame. Your eyes rolled back, the world temporarily turning dark as your eyelids shut. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, a reverent look in his gaze. With the way your walls were fluttering around him, and the quickened pace of his hips, you knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either.
His arms went back around your head, continuing to move as he chased his own release. You heard him gasp out, quickly pulling out of you, and you let out a discontent noise as he no longer filled you. He stroked himself a few times, hand moving fervently up and down his length. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would’ve had taken him in your hand yourself, wanting to feel him as well. Moaning your name, you watched as he came, his release spilling over your stomach. His hips canted forward a few times as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.
You loosened your legs that were wrapped around his waist, and silence hung over the two of you as you both processed what just happened. A small laugh left you, breaking the trance, and you saw him smile back at you, mirroring his laughter with his own. You watched him grab the blanket that was still bundled up on the floor, and he tore off a section of it, the sound of fabric ripping startling you slightly. 
Wiping his release from your skin, he tossed the soiled cloth to some corner of the room. It’s not like this was your place, anyways. Opening your arms, you invited him to lay with you, and he gladly accepted. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, but he still lay partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. It was comforting, and you felt yourself begin to grow a bit sleepy. “Are you warm yet?” You teased, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, and you felt his chest rumble with laughter.
“I think so,” he responded, bringing the blanket around your bodies. The fire was starting to die down, but neither of you moved to add fuel to it. He murmured something, and you gave an inquisitive sound. “I love you,” he repeated, his brown eyes filled with emotion as he stared up at you.
“I love you, too.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it. “What is it?” You asked, and he sighed, his warm breath tickling you.
“Does that mean you’ll stay?”
In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your earlier conversation. The vulnerability in his voice had your eyes watering, and it didn’t take much thinking to reach your answer. Sure, you were scared for the future of the gang, and you were scared that with each passing day you’d find yourself closer and closer to finding your end at a rope or a barrel, but none of those fears mattered, not anymore. Not when you finally had all that you wanted in your arms. And who knows, maybe you’d end up leaving in time, but you knew you wouldn’t be leaving alone.
“Yeah, I’ll stay. Besides, you still owe me a date.”
His responding smile solidified that you had made the right decision. Whatever the future held, you knew it would be easier with Charles by your side.
104 notes · View notes
anxious-lee · 7 days
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|| Ramshackle Tickle Headcanons ||
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A/N: just watched the pilot last night and read the comic this morning, I'm ready 💪. I can tell these three are gonna be my new beloved found family. as far as I can tell, there isn't a whole lot of fan content of this on tumblr so I'm really scared this is gonna find its way to the normies 😢
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Vinnie
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- chaotic ler
- usually the first one to initiate a tickle fight
- fights to WIN (and have fun with her friends)
- the roughest tickler of them all; squeezes, scribbles, and pokes anywhere and everywhere she can reach. she will the loudest laughter she can out of you
- skipp is her easiest lee; he'll start a chase and everything for the game of it, but he doesn't fight too hard once he gets caught
- stone, however, is the hardest lee, but we'll get to that later; despite how difficult he is to corner, she likes the challenge; besides, somebody's got to make sure that sad twig boi smiles
- once she finds your worst spot, she's not leaving
- teases with evil laughter and playful mockery; "no mortal can escape the clutches of the TICKLE MONSTER MWAHAHAHA!" "You wanna get away? You wanna get away?? Well you're not gettin' away~"
- when tickled, she SCREAMS and CACKLES but will NOT beg
- doesn't mind being tickled, doesn't love it; it's all in good fun
- ^ you wouldn't know that based on how hard she fights her ler; kicking, clawing, flailing, you name it; she does not like to lose
- in fact, she'd rather have her face turn purple than call it quits; the ler just has to know when to stop on their own because she's sure as hell not going to tell them
- most ticklish spot is her armpits
- do not try to outrun her because she is so damn persistent. she will catch you; tackles and pins you down before she tickles you
Skipp
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- lawful lee
- has the goofiest little giggles in the world; a real "teehee" lad
- can't and won't hold back his laughter
- by far the happiest to be a lee
- actively likes tickling and WILL admit it
- most ticklish spot is his sides
- he can tickle if he thinks one of his friends needs it but he mainly prefers to be the lee
- doesn't wiggle that much; all the energy that would go into squirming goes into giggling instead
- cups his pink cheeks and gives tiny feet kicks 🥰
- will squeal if you tickle his neck
- a lot of teases don't work on him because they rely on being embarrassed, and he's not embarrassed about tickling
- the teases that DO work are baby talk, since it adds to the silly feeling
- pokes tickle him the most
- his giggly laughter is laced with mangled outcries; "HEHEHEHE WAITHEHEHE STO- HEHE NOT THERE HEHEHE"
- if skipp gets in stone's personal space one too many times, stone'll wreck him (he knows skipp is doing it on purpose)
- isn't that invested with winning or losing a tickle fight; he's just happy to be there
- tries to get stone to loosen up about tickling (explanation later)
- gets ganged up on by the other two the most
- falls for those old tickle tricks, not because he wants to get tickled, but because he is just so obliviously trusting
Stone
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- HOOOO BOY
- the one we've all been waiting for
- I'm gonna let yall know right now this ones going to be the longest (SUE ME OKAY?!)
- neutral lee-leaning switch
- will swear up and down on his life that he's not ticklish (it's a lie!) until the other two little gremlins finally decide to prove him wrong
- he's very embarrassed about being ticklish; skipp doesn't understand why and tries to get him more comfortable with it, which causes stone to turtle-up and shut down the conversation; vinnie takes a less gentle approach and just tells him to "loosen up, dude!"; it seems like a childish thing to him, like something he should have grown out of
- despite how embarrassed he is about his weakness, he's not actually embarrassed about saying the word; he can say "tickle" all day long, he just can't admit he's ticklish
- he repeats the same three words everytime someone asks: "I'm not ticklish"
- if he thinks for even a second he's about to get tickled, he sprints like his life depends on it; this means the first ten times his friends have tried to tickle him, they failed, no matter how stealthy they were.
- finally, on try eleven, they managed to overtake him; he wouldn't laugh for the first two whole minutes; vinnie was straddling his waist while skipp kept him from kicking and bucking her off; eventually, he did crack; it only took a random squeeze at his death spot for him to slip up: his thighs; vinnie caught on right away and went to town, and then poor stone couldn't keep himself together; if he laughed any harder, he swore he'd crumble to pieces; his arms waved around, too jellied up to put any real force behind them; his eyes were still squeezed shut, but his smile was brighter than the motherfucking sun; it even put skipp's to shame; he looked uncharacteristically like a little baby, laughing and shrieking
- vinnie and skipp's eyes practically filled with stars; neither of them had ever seen this side of stone before; but that was about to change
- he can't claim he's not ticklish anymore, but he'll still go to any lengths to avoid talking about it
- stone didn't know he had a death spot until that moment, nothing ever came into contact with his thighs so he had no way to know
- his laugh is very high-pitched, differing from his usual deep rumble; pure belly laughter with a side of hiccups (no not hiccup laughs, ACTUAL hiccups. it's the cutest thing I swear)
- within thirty seconds of laughing, he's lost all ability to save face; cries out a lot of "please"s if vinnie goes hard enough
- the tops of his cheeks will go red while he's being tickled; not full tomato, but just enough to shatter his pride
- he's the most adorable lee 💓💓💓
- he is SO HARD TO CATCH THO
- he's got the reflexes of a cat
- doesn't like being teased, then he gets a little too embarrassed
- the only comments that ARE acceptable are ones of curiosity; like if skipp goes "hmmm I wonder if this spot is ticklish?" or vinnie says "dang bro I didn't know you could laugh that hard"
- if he's comfortable with anyone tickling him, it's skipp; he knows he can trust him to not laugh at him
- as much as he'll deny it, he doesn't hate tickling as much as he wishes; in fact, it might even be a little bit fun <3
- as a ler, he's pretty skilled
- where vinnie is a very rough and sloppy ler, stone is very careful and methodical
- starts with light traces to amp up the tension, then goes in for the kill
- tickles skipp the most, because there's a significantly smaller chance of skipp fighting back
- he tickles his friends in an older brother sort of way; mostly its when they're bugging him
- teases with "ya learnt your lesson yet?" "that doesn't sound like someone who wants me to stop tickling" "you were practically asking for it, being a pain in the arse and everything"
- specifically teases skipp because he knows he likes it; "having fun, down there? i can see that smile, mister, you ain't fooling me"
- most of the time though he'll just watch the other two tickle fight and watch boredly
----
IT TOOK A LOT OF RESTRAINT NOT TO RAMBLE
AND I DID ANYWAY!!!
I'll save the rest of my thoughts for potential fics
Hope you enjoy!
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3rdeyeblaque · 8 months
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On August 30th we venerate Young King Brother Fred Hampton on his 75th birthday 🎉
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Deputy Chairman Fred Hampton was the one of THE greatest orators, leaders, and visionaries to join the Black Panther Party Of Self-Defense 🖤✊🏾
Fred Hampton was born & raised in the Chicago suburbs of Illinois. Civil liberties, rights, and laws were always of great interest to him. After graduating high school, he enrolled in a pre-law program at Triton Junior College in River Grove, Illinois. He joined his local NAACP branch to get involved in the civil rights movement. He rose to the position of Youth Council President for his strong leadership and organization skills. In this position, Brother Hampton mobilized a racially diverse group of 500 young men/women who successfully lobbied city officials to create better academic services and recreational facilities for Black American youth.
In 1968, he joined the Black Panther Party of Self-Defense, headquartered in Oakland, CA. Shortly thereafter, he was selected to head the Chicago Chapter. Here, he created strong personal and political ties with his mentor & chaplain, Father George Clements at the [then] Holy Angels Catholic Church; which served as a safe haven for the Panthers targeted for police surveillance or harassment.
Brother Hampton accomplished a great many things as a young, prolific leader of the BPP Chicago Chapter. He successfully negotiated a gang truce on live television.One of his greatest successes was an unprecedentedly integrated approach to sociopolitical unity; he formed a “Rainbow Coalition”, which included: the Students for a Democratic Society, the Blackstone Rangers, a street gang and the National Young Lords, a local Puerto Rican organization. He was the first leading Panther to achieve this. This alliance is what truly struck the cord of fear in the Chicago P.D. & the FBI. In an effort to neutralize the Chicago Chapter of the BPP, the Black Panthers were placed under heavy surveillance & were subjected to several harassment campaigns.
By 1969, several Black Panthers and Chicago cops either suffered injury or were killed in shootouts across the city, which resulted in the arrest of over 100 members. On Dec 4th of that same year, under the FBI's initiative, the County PD & Chicago PD conducted heinous, unlawful, and unnecessary raid on the Black Panther Party's HQ in the early morning hours while Brother Hampton, leader Mark Clark, and other Panthers slept. They fired over 100 rounds into the apartment without warning. Twelve officers executed Brother Hampton as he slept, drugged by a sedative slipped into his drink by "Panther"/FBI informant O'Neal. Naturally, in Jan 1970, the County Coroner's office ruled the Black Panther leaders' deaths as "justifiable homicide".
Over 5,000 souls attended Brother Hampton’s funeral. Many civil rights activates eulogized him, including his good friend and mentor Father George, who also held a Requem Mass for him at his church.
After many years of coverups, internal investigations, lawsuits, raids, and conspiracies confirmed, the FBI, County PD, & Chicago PD finally admitted to the wrongful deaths of Brother Hampton and Mark Clark. In 1990, and again in 2004, the Chicago City Council passed resolutions commemorating December 4th as Fred Hampton Day. Today, Brother Hampton rests at the Bethel Cemetery in Haynesville, LA where his parents are from - which continues to endure violent desecration from White Supremacist vigilantes/supporters.
" You can kill a revolutionary but you can never kill the revolution. People have to be armed to have power" - Young King Fred Hampton
We pour libations & give him💐 today as we celebrate him for his love of our people, his relentless dedication to the BPP cause, and his young yet wise spirit that lives on. May be the find restful peace in spirit that he was/is denied in the physical.
Offering suggestions: flower offerings at his grave, libations of water, prayers and frankincense toward his elevation
‼️Note: offering suggestions are just that & strictly for veneration purposes only. Never attempt to conjure up any spirit or entity without proper divination/Mediumship counsel.‼️
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blues824 · 1 year
Note
First year gang react to MC driving the vehicle super fast
Gender-neutral reader
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Ace Trappola
This mf in the passenger seat complaining why you’re going so slow
When you’re going about 30 miles over the speed limit
But also has the aux cord
You would think he would be playing smth like Juice WRLD
He’s playing Barbie Girl, and you and him are screaming the lyrics
He doesn’t even have his seatbelt buckled
You slam on the breaks once, and this dude is going through the windshield
At least he’s having fun?
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Deuce Spade
He likes going fast in vehicles, like the Twisted Wonderland equivalent of the motorcycle
That I coincidentally forgot the name of 
Anyway, he’s probably leaning out of the window to feel the air on his face
Is probably also screaming the lyrics to Barbie Girl
Definitely doesn’t have his seatbelt buckled
He is sitting behind you in the seating arrangement
But anyways, he likes when you drive fast
Because it gives him that sense of nostalgia from his delinquent days
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Jack Howl
Mans is panicking and hanging on to the handle
You know the handle on the door for the backseats? 
That’s what I’m talking about
He’s shouting at you to drive slower
But you can’t hear him over the music
Speaking of, he does not sing along, mostly because he’s too scared
He is sitting in the way back
Because he’s a party pooper
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Epel Felmier
He also likes going fast 
Especially if Vil was looking for him, he needs an escape vehicle
Thrives off the feeling of sneaking away and getting away with it
He’s sat behind the passenger
He wants to scream the lyrics to Barbie Girl because he knows it by heart
But doesn’t want to seem too girly or feminine
Unlike the others, he is buckled in
He cares about the law, after all
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Ortho Shroud
Do you really think Idia would let him go?
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Sebek Zigvolt
If you thought Jack was yelling, Sebek is screaming at you to slow down
Being involved with things like this is very unbefitting for a knight of Malleus
As a result of having a stick up his ass
He is also in the very back
Does not know the Barbie Girl song lyrics and therefore is not singing it
Screams when you hit a speed bump and you go airborne for a bit
Don’t even get me started on when you did a donut to turn around
Eventually, Deuce covers his mouth in duct tape so he doesn’t ruin the fun.
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visorforavisor · 1 year
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as an Irish (we don’t call it “Gaelic”, ever) speaker and a Sunny fan, I thought it would be fun to do a bit of a post about the Irish-language scene in The Gang’s Still in Ireland, because it’s not a scene I see widely discussed but I adore it.
some background. I am not a native Gaeilgeoir (Irish speaker) — my first language is English — but I started learning it age five and have always had very high grades in it and a huge love for it. I was hugely excited about Charlie Kelly being able to read Irish in the previous episode, and even more so when he turned out to be able to speak it.
Colm Meaney, the actor who plays Shelley Kelly, grew up in Ireland and as such would have learned Irish throughout his time in school. (this has been required by law more or less since Irish independence, and it was already quite common before that. nowadays, you can get exemptions for things like dyslexia but otherwise you have to do it.) this is clear in his ease with the language. (I will do a post about where in Ireland Shelley lives at some point, because there aren’t many areas where Irish is the principal language, but that is for another day!) both the actor and the character have easy and good Irish.
Charlie Day, as an Italian-American, obviously does not actually speak the language and presumably learned the lines as a bunch of gibberish sounds. (nonetheless, some of his pronunciations do suggest he had the words written down non-phonetically too.) his delivery of the lines is god damn amazing. Charlie Kelly’s Irish is not remotely American-accented. if I heard someone speaking Irish like that, I’d assume they sounded Irish when speaking English. he doesn’t even sound neutral in Irish; he does actively have an accent (the word choices are more non-regional, not pointing to any of the three distinct dialects, but this makes sense as the same is true of Shelley’s Irish). his pronunciation is so on point and his accent is seriously just a delight to listen to. that’s serious effort to have been put in by an American in a show that routinely makes fun of Irish-Americans! I cannot stress enough how cool it is to see my national language like this and how good a job he does.
as a side note, Charlie Kelly finding Irish much easier to read than English makes total sense! he clearly has dyslexia, as well as intellectual disabilities and autism, so literacy being tricky is totally fair, but is probably being made worse in English by how much of a god damn ridiculous illogical irregular mess the language is. English has around two hundred irregular verbs, and that’s before we even begin to consider the irregularity of its spelling. Irish has eleven irregular verbs, multiple of which are only irregular in one tense. its spelling is entirely consistent and, once the rules are known, any word (pretty much) can be flawlessly pronounced from reading it or flawlessly spelled from hearing it. (I promise Irish names make sense. just not if you try to use English rules on them. the languages are very different!) Irish is one of the most regular languages out there.
so, I thought I’d go through the actual scene. I’m going to put each line, the direct translation, the subtitle provided, and a comment. hopefully this will be interesting to someone other than me!
·—·
“is mise do pheannchara, a Charlie.” (Shelley)
direct translation: “I’m your pen pal, Charlie.”
subtitle provided: “I’m your pen pal, Charlie.”
okay, so they translate “pen pal” two different ways in this scene. the first, used here, is “peannchara”. this is a compound word, much like all those long words you get in German. it’s a perfectly good choice given there is no one standard choice for translating that concept.
“tá brón orm, ach ní thuigim cad atá ráite agat. is féidir liom gibberish a léamh, ach ní féidir liom í a labhairt.” (Charlie)
direct translation: “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’ve said. I’m able to read gibberish, but I’m not able to speak it.”
subtitle provided: “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you just said. I read gibberish, but I don’t speak it.”
I would slightly disagree with the subtitles here. the “just” bit isn’t expressed at all. in fact, there is no Irish equivalent to that word, and we often just use the English one in the middle of an Irish sentence because of this. however, I expect that RCG (Rob McElhenney, Charlie Day, Glenn Howerton) wrote the subtitles and then handed them to an Irish translator, in which case the translator did a perfectly good job. a couple of notes about the use of “gibberish” here. I love it. firstly, we totally do drop English words into sentences like that. secondly, I really like the choice to use the feminine form of “it” here (that is, to make “gibberish” a feminine noun). all languages except English are feminine nouns in Irish as a rule, so it’s just a lovely detail calling back to the fact that Charlie thinks of it as the gibberish language. also, Charlie Day really does absolutely nail that voiceless velar fricative (the consonant sound in “ach”, as in Scottish “loch” or any number of German words), a sound even many natively English-speaking Irish people are lazy about. good on him.
“níl aon ciall le sin. sé á labhairt anois!” (Shelley)
direct translation: “there’s no sense to that. it’s being spoken now!”
subtitle provided: “that doesn’t make any sense. you’re speaking it now!”
I adore the phrasing of the first sentence here. thoroughly authentic. there are much more obvious ways to phrase it, but this is absolutely what a native speaker might go with. same goes for the second, actually. Colm Meaney says the second line in a sort of shortened way (same idea as how we might turn “do not” into “don’t”) so I’ve struggled slightly with how to directly translate it. interestingly, Shelley categorises “gibberish” as a masculine noun here, but this isn’t really wrong since it doesn’t have an official grammatical gender due to not being an actual Irish word. just a little odd. also, to fit better to the subtitle of the second sentence, I personally would’ve gone with “tá sé á labhairt agat anois” rather than “tá sé á labhairt anois” (the full version of what Shelley says), as this includes the information of by whom it is being spoken.
“’s é mo dheartháir mo chara pinn.” (Charlie)
direct translation: “it’s my brother that’s my pen pal.”
subtitle provided: “but my pen pal is my brother.”
firstly, to be clear, the nuance of the sentence structure here is not captured in either of the above translations because there simply is not an English equivalent to it. secondly, Charlie uses a contraction here by shortening “is é mo dheartháir mo chara pinn”. super cool. also, there’s that other translation of “pen pal”! this one is “cara pinn”, which uses the Irish genitive case (the word mutates instead of using an equivalent of the English word “of”; this case also exists in other languages including Swedish, German, Latin, and Greek). I like this translation very much too. both work! Charlie Day again delivers this line really nicely, even stressing the word for “brother” (and pronouncing its initial consonant mutation absolutely gorgeously)! I am truly very impressed.
“níl aon fhírinne le sin, a mhic. ’s é do chara pinn… d’athair.” (Shelley)
direct translation: “there’s no truth to that, son. it’s your pen pal who is… your father.”
subtitle given: “no son. your pen pal is your… father.”
so, I really disagree with the first sentence of the subtitles here. it works, but also misses a lot of the beautiful nuance that could have been got. I would have gone with “that’s not true, son” or, more likely, “that’s not right, son”. I also disagree with the placement of the ellipsis in the second sentence, as you see (and my frustrations in translating this sentence structure to English continue, as well). however I like the use of “a mhic” (“son”) here, very much. this is a mutated form of “mac”, meaning “son” (yes, as in all of those Irish surnames; they all just basically say who the person is the son of). it carries both meanings that exist in English: an actual son, but also the use of the word as an affectionate way to refer to any man younger than the (usually male) speaker. this is a really nice choice.
·—·
so, yeah! those are my thoughts. feel free to ask any questions you like. I love this scene so much. as well as the reasons above about how good the translation and delivery is, I also love two other main things about this.
firstly, the level of dignity given to the language. Sunny makes fun of Irish-Americans all the time, but doesn’t really do the same to Irish people from Ireland, which I like (I do also wanna talk about Mac and Charlie as members of the Irish diaspora because it is so so interesting, but that is for another day). Irish as a language is not often given dignity, especially in American or English media, so I really love that it isn’t the butt of the joke here.
secondly, that such a significant scene is delivered through this language. just wonderful. after fourteen and a half series, we finally discover the biological father, and the scene cannot be separated from this beautiful language. it just is so perfect.
RCG, and of course Charlie Day in particular, we Gaeilgeoirí (Irish speakers) thank you! our little language made it to the screens of so many people around the world.
I hope this was interesting haha.
·—·
edits: fixed some things I mistyped.
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ginnsinabin · 11 months
Text
driving with wrench hcs
+Gen neutral
-Words of advice I personally wouldn’t get in a car with this man and i feel like no further explanation is needed 
-Granted I feel like he is genuinely a sound driver, IF he’s in the right mood
-For example if you’re just going from place to place on a random Tuesday he’d emulate the average citizen on the road
-BUT if there’s not a lot of people on the roads, he’s bored, or if he’s in a rush to get somewhere I pray your death is at least quick
-This man always drives one handed and likes to fuck around on his phone while he drives too
Most of the time though he keeps a hand on the wheel because he’s definitely a person that talks with his hands so you have to just get used to him driving with no hands on the wheel to get his story or point across
-He will give you the wheel out of no where and reach to the back for stuff or to hack a traffic light so hopefully you have a good reaction time
-It isn’t a rare occasion that you with have to sit patiently while wrench tries to shake off police due to his dodgy driving skills
-Just sit back and give him some heads ups to pull into some alley ways to help, it’ll be over soon
-If yall are driving home at the end of the day he’ll want to hold your hand while driving and will only go a little over the speed limit just cause he’s tired and wants to pass out with you so no police chases
-If the gang has the misfortune of being in the car with you, wrench will feel more implored to disobey every traffic law he can think of
-It’s both scary and funny during these times, both unintelligible screams of pure horror and cursing shouts towards the driver are heard but wrench basically hears none of it
-Sometimes prayers are heard too
Because of this, trips for the dedsec crew are either taken in separate vehicles or Sitara or Horatio will be the drivers
-If wrench can get his hands on a motorcycle, you will see an even cockier wrench than normal, just driving one will make him feel badass and mighty but if you’re riding with him? This man will hit a whole new level of ego
-Now while he’ll be more inclined to be more skillful while driving a bike, it is just as scary if not worse than him driving a car
-Definitely gets a kick out of having you hugging him from behind while driving at ungodly speeds but will never do anything wreckless enough that it’ll get you hurt
-Despite his need for chaos and thrills there’s a line that he’d never cross when it comes to your safety
(A/N: I hope there’s no errors but if there are no there isn’t)
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birdsaretoddlers · 1 month
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okay everyone promised to be niceys about it so here's a snippet of the first chapter of the neo-noir whatever the fuck i'm writing. everyone be nice or else i'll explode into a puddle of tears ok?
Red Vixen Returns! After what appears to have been a two year hiatus, famed cat burglar ‘Red Vixen’ has struck again, this time taking a stab at Overeasy Industries! Newest reports claim that the Phosphoril Rose was stolen last night out of its exhibit at the Museum of Earth Sciences. The CEO of Overeasy Industries has promised that any credible claim to it’s whereabouts that lead to the recovery of the artifact will be rewarded handsomely-
“Turn that off, would you, Vette?”
The television cycled off the news and on to a different news station, then more news, and finally, a gossip tabloid that, again, was covering the news. With a disgruntled hawk in her throat, the bartender tossed the remote onto the countertop, unable to escape chippy newscasters with dead eyes and fake cheer. “If you can find any channel not showin’ that, you’re welcome to it.”
The remote slid, spinning, over the scarred, heavily-lacquered wood. The man at the bar stopped it with the hand not currently holding his glass, tapped the channel buttons a time or two, and eventually settled on golf. The tournament lasted for all of fifteen seconds before the breaking news bled overtop of it, too. He finally turned the whole system off instead.
“Don’t know what you were expecting, Mars. It’s Overeasy. They’ve bought every station we get out here.”
“Mm,” said Mars. “Can’t hurt to try.”
“Awfully hopeful, coming out of you. Careful, someone might just try to steal that off ya.”
Knocking back the remnants of his drink, he set his empty glass an inch over the invisible line that begged for a refill. “Welcome to it. Not sure who I lifted it from myself.”
Vette smirked and pulled a pair of dirty bottles from the rack behind her, grey hair tied out of her face with a black leather cord. “Probably the Valentines, if I had to guess. Julio’s always got some to spare.”
“Julio’s full of spare parts. His brother and his sister in law aren’t much better.” Mars waited patiently as Vette offloaded old stock into his cup, then took it back with two fingers. “Dunno why you let your boy run around with ‘em. Gang types, through and through.”
Vette shrugged her shoulders and replaced the liquors to the shelf, sending up a puff of dust as she did. “Who cares where they came from? Keeps Tommy out from underfoot. Better he go knocking over trash cans with them three than the neighborhood boys. At least the Valentines know how to handle a weapon.”
Mars gave his head an acquiescing little tilt. “Just thought you’d stay away from cats that reek of a family, that’s all.”
Vette leaned over the bar with one arm, gesturing at the establishment, as much as it could be called that, with the other. “Hey, here at the Dog, everyone’s family as long as they leave their guns at the door. Doesn’t matter who killed who, what corp fucked over the next, anyone that wants a drink or somethin’ to eat can get it as long as they have the money to pay and don’t spill bad blood within two feet of the doorstep.”
That was true. This dive was the only place that was truly neutral in the entire town. The bartender looked and acted like she’d shoot you, along with her husband and the entire waitstaff, so nobody dared cause any trouble within the doors of the Sighthound. Otherwise called ‘the Dog’, by anyone who had been here more than once. The walls, floors, even the tables were stained with the arguments of generations of enemies who had come together to dine as strained equals, along with a hefty dose of grime. Smoke hung low in the air, mixing with the rank scent of desperation. The opened front door only did so much to clear it out, but hey, if having health insurance was mandatory by law, why not make good use of it?
Mars removed his hat to fan it under his nose anyway. He couldn’t smell the ethanol of his drink through this haze. Vette rolled her eyes, made a comment about his failing constitution, and wandered off without waiting for him to bite out a retort. “Sure, sure. Have to be the one born this minute to start anything here. You’d have ‘em sharing a scientific classification with a colander in a second.”
“Damn right.” Vette turned the television on again, though Mars hadn’t seen her swipe the remote out from under his sleeve. The news bulletin had faded, golf proceeded apace. She pulled a face and started looking for anything else. Mars sipped his highball and did not pull one, though tequila rose was not a proper ingredient no matter what old swill Vette was trying to cycle through the inventory tab. “That’s why we say two feet away from the door. Gives us enough time to close it before we start gettin’ stains on the hardwood.”
With a subtle glance behind him, Mars studied the floors. It was hard to tell there was wood under the inch of grit and mud, but he’d take her word for it. They were almost alone here. The ‘enforcers’ that were the Valentines were playing babysitter, the owner of the bar was up in his office, and who drank at two o’clock on a Tuesday?
Other than him, of course. And the guy that just walked in the door.
Vette looked up, blue eyes a-blinking. “Oh, that’s gotta be the lunch order. Hold that thought, Capone.”
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qettleqorn · 9 months
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Aburame: Tattoo Shop AU | DLC This is basically an additional addon to @kankuroplease's own AU. So thank her for all the good content she brings!
The Family
Occupationally Speaking. Many within the Aburame Family have taken to working with the dead as morticians or as hitmen. Usually though they'll work in teams where one is the hitmen and the other the mortician.
Some within the family have even gone to use their knowledge of insects to help expedite the process of getting rid of the bodies. Though it does help that they collectively own quite a few crematories and some graveyards too.
Also. They run a few of the garbage disposal places. Basically they are where you go to when you need to get rid of something.
Since the family makes it's living off the dead. Many find it to be creepy. Since ya know- death.
They work with both the Uchiha and Hyuga, they are a neutral ground kind of family as no matter what happens. They ofc will always be there waiting to take the dead. By their own hands or gifted.
Sometimes if the pay is good enough they'll even help smuggle things- people to wherever they're needed to be.
There are different syndicates of the family. Approximately six, they try to confuse the law by doing this and if one needs to go down they can easily replace it with another branch head.
Amongst the clan these branches are known by. Bikōchū, Kidaichū, Kikaichū, Kochū, Rinkaichū, and Shōkaichū.
The Aburame numbers always seem to stay the same amongst the gang. It isn't really obvious how many people they may or may not have.
Public schooling for the kids. Most don't even know the Aburame are in charge since they have those syndicates and what not. Though some of the higher ups kids do go to private schools. But most of the time it's all public.
The Crew
Shibi Aburame
Another childhood friend of Mikoto's but she didn't need to kick his butt for them to become cool.
Use to be a hitter but after having Shino he decided he rather work with disposing of the bodies instead of making the hits himself. Keeps him closer to home and gives him a cover up.
Met his girl in school too. Makes the off handed joke to Fugaku that he didn't need his ass kicked to know he found the one he liked. He just needed a ear full.
His wife does know of the business, he tries to make sure she and their children stay out of it. But unluckily for him Shino has joined them after seeing his adoptive brother and his father tending to a work incident.
Shino Aburame
Is going to college to become an entomologist. But is also trying to partake in the family business because he hates to see father and brother suffer alone.
In addition the way the family uses insects to decompose of the bodies gives him the ability to study them much more closely. (Shibi breathes a sigh of relief that his son is just as weird about bugs as his mother is.)
Torune Aburame
As his father, Shikuro, is often locked up for one reason or another. Torune has taken to staying with Shino's family. Unofficially adopted by them basically.
His side job is being a tattoo tech for one of his cousins. But disposal is his primary source of income when he isn't sleeping on Shibi's couch- much like his father tries to do when he isn't locked away.
Shikuro Aburame
Is alive and well in this. But is locked up and keeps getting locked up. He's practically the family fall man after an incident with his adoptive brother having thrown him under the bus.
Muta Aburame
Far off distant cousin to Tatsuma and Torune. Muta is also Torune's hand in crime as the two often are partnered up.
When he isn't working with Torune, Muta is often tending to his silk worms. He often uses them for craft works.
Tatsuma Aburame
Personal guard to the current family head Takeo.
Chews a lot of bubble gum. Uses a cigar case to carry his gum packs.
Yōji Aburame
Best marksmen out of the main family.
Takeo Aburame | Oc
Has been in charge of the family since he was fifteen. Inherited the position from his Aunt.
Wishes to pass on the title to his son already but knows he would get bored if he didn't keep it. He's far too use to the excitement the job brings and as much as he enjoys making teapots in his spare time. He finds that life in charge more fulfilling.
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You said Kaijus could exist in the twilight universe. Assuming Kaiju blood is as edible as normal animal blood, do you think more vampires would be willing to go vegetarian? Cause the idea of subsisting on colossal sea monsters sounds way cooler than subsisting on the blood of weak humans. And if you kill the Kaiju, way more impressive.
Post anon's referring to.
You're Asking Me to Suspend a Lot of Disbelief, Anon
The thing about Twilight vampirs is that it's very clear, for whatever reason, humans are their main food source and what they should be eating. Everything else tastes like shit, and while Carlisle and gang can get by on animal blood, they're physically weaker, their eyes turn funny colors, and it's clear that this probably isn't the best for them healthwise.
You're now asking them to eat something not from this dimension that has radically different biological makeup. Not just that, but they come from the "toxic death" dimension, where we know the aliens are purposefully polluting our dimension to make it liveable for them. And of course we know Kaiju blood from the movie is toxic death and very very not good for you. I don't even think this is animal blood worthy, they're just going to vomit if not have their insides burn.
But if they were as edible as animals...
Would Vampires Eat the Kaiju?
No.
They taste like toxic garbage and while it may be cool for their egos it just tastes like dogshit. It's so bad. Remember Edward admits he's uh sugar coating it when he tells Bella animal blood just tastes sort of bland: it's fucking awful.
At most you might get vampires like James hunting Kaiju but I imagine it's actually against the law because a) humans will notice and more importantly b) you have to be very careful when killing Kaiju as canonically in the film if you just try to do it willy nilly, without neutralizing it via Jaeger nonsense, it will explode into nuclear sludge designed to kill as many people as possible.
If vampires are going around killing these things without strategizing I imagine Aro's dying, just dying, as there goes a major population center.
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sleepingsongbird · 10 months
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Alrighty so I’m finally getting around to writing some modern au One Piece fic so I figured I should probably share some background for it!
Everything is set in one giant city and I have put way too much thought into this
City is roughly split up between the “four emperors”
The Grand Line(NE-SW) is the main commercial street that runs through the center of the city where every large group has a front. It intersects Red Street(NW-SE) which divides the territories. The Hospital sits at the East corner of where the Grand line and red street intersect.
Big mom’s pastries
The Red Force bar - cocktail bar
Kids repair shop
The Amazon Lily - Boa Hancock’s strip club
Rayleigh is a legal consultant and the only piece of neutral territory on the grand line
Marinefold- the Town hall sits dead center of Red street
Lodge square - located in the center in front of city hall
Pacifista church - run by Kuma, large mega church
Etc.
The Heart territory is a couple blocks in the East side that spans from Law’s apartment to the employee entrance of the hospital
All of the Hearts work either at the hospital or the Heart Club
Hearts are highly territorial despite being in Red Hairs area
The Hearts have tattoos but no markings on their medical uniforms
The large hospital where Law works is neutral territory and pretty much every doctor/surgeon there is affiliated with a group
The white coats of the doctors each have the symbol of their affiliated group embroidered with white thread. Each major group has at least one doctor that is deemed safe to go to
Kaido is a Yakuza group and Kin'emon’s group is the remnants of the Kozuki clan that are trying to retake the territory
East side is Red Hair
Locations-
Baratie- restaurant Sanji works at and common meeting place of the Straw Hats
Water 7- Large mechanic shop, Franky uses one of the workshops there for personal projects and to repair their Van(The Sunny)
The Heart Club- A below ground nightclub owned by Law
Patty’s bar- Run by Makino and frequented by Shanks
Mihawk’s Dojo- Zoro frequently trains there
Elegia recordings - Run by Shanks and started to Publish his daughter’s music
Uta started as a streamer then starting doing live performances once her popularity grew, she is often out of the city on tour
She is a very active protester and has been arrested multiple times
Soul KIng - Music supply shop owned by brook
Brook who was a famous musician who faked his death and moved into town to avoid the publicity (still very recognizable)
The straw hats live friends style with 3 apartments on the same floor. They are the local menaces and are constant up in everyone’s business
North Side is Kaido
Locations
Onigashima- Formally called the Kozuki theater was taken over by Kaido and turned into a club. Run by Orochi but paid for by Kaido. The daughter of Oden works undercover as a dancer.
Oden restaurant - Named after the late boss of the Kozuki family is run by his friends and son, current front to the Kozuki Yakuza group
DonQuixote Inc. headquarters- Center of Doffy’s operations and front for the family
Dressrosa Casino - run by Doflamingo. Hosts fights at its arena. Formerly run by the Riku family, Viola Riku currently sits on the board.
Punk Labs- Caesar’s lab, Donquixote is their parent company. Was formally run by Vegapunk.
Cipher pol - Government intelligence. Has agents stationed in every region
-Local occult shop run by Hawkins. Perona works part time doing seances
West side is Big Mom
Locations
Germa 66 publishing company- a well known action comic publishing company owned and run by Sanji’s family
Thriller Bark - Haunted house run by Gecko Moria
Zoo - Run by a wildlife conservation group called Zou
Drum University Campus - known for its medical programs ​
South side is Whitebeard
Locations
Local Police station
Alabasta Gallery - an upscale art gallery. Formerly run by the Nefertari family has recently become a front for the Baroque Works gang run by Crocodile selling counterfeit art
The family heir Vivi is a curator trying to gain evidence to take down Crocodile and restore the Gallery to its former glory.
Museum - has previously bought works from the prestigious Alabasta gallery. Robin works as a curator and researcher there.
The yami - dive bar run by Blackbeard
The coast(East Coast)
Impel Down- High security prison located on an island off the coast
Enies Lobby- an old mansion island now used for major celebrity and political events
The big top - an amusement park and circus located on the boardwalk. Run by Buggy. Alvida runs the big top in his absence.
Buggy is the primary informant in the city and also works as a clown at the local hospital to cheer up the patients and gather information.
The Barto Club - a bar and exclusive club dedicated to the strawhats gang. Run by Bartolomeo. Invitation only.
The Polar Tang- Luxury Yacht that Is outfitted with a full medical infirmary owned by the Hearts
Outskirts
Cocoyasi orchards - citrus farm owned by Nami’s family run by Nojiko
Baltago Cafe - front for the revolutionary army, an anarchistic group opposing the government. Koala is their head barista. Militia operations run by Dragon. Sabo is a member.
Feel free to use this as inspiration or setting for any fanfic or art just tag me so I can check it out!
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rookflower · 4 months
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🌈
🌈 : what's the most 2010s wcforum era esque fandom opinion you still hold onto and will fight people over (things like scourges collar color, dovewings eye color, etc)
gotta be honest lads i was not there in the 2010s wcforums and can't think of anything i would go to war over rn, but here's my take on those specific discourses and some other superficial opinions i have on purely aesthetic details about characters, since i think purely aesthetic details are the most trivial topics you can be weirdly opinionated about
scourge's collar is purple by default but can also be some sort of funny novelty collar or a pride flag or some shit
dovewing's eyes are green by default but anything else is fun and allowed
short squirrelstar gang
longtail is yellow or cream, maybe a pale brown at a stretch, end of discussion
ravenpaw's eyes are not green i don't care what canon says. purple or gold.
cinderpelt cannot be both short-furred and skinny to me. she has to be fluffy or fat or buff or any combination of those things, or even just kinda neutrally cat shaped even. the law
flipclaw is a tiny little guy and he takes after his mum, ivypool, who is also a wee scrawny thing.
i do not give a shit about the crime or whatever of people making characters who are not torties torties i think it's cool as hell, especially if the design still reads clearly as the original character despite that divergence. same goes for swapped around eye colours, or any other changes.
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dottores · 2 years
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LITTLE DARK AGE
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haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou
summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo’s underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.
genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI
warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA
chapter warnings: threat of sexual assault, perjury, explicit mentions of class privileges/discrimination, court scene based off of US court of law
previous chapter -> masterlist -> next chapter
CHAPTER Ⅴ. YOU'RE GONNA GO FAR, KID
SIXTEEN YEARS EARLIER. 
“Is this the best idea?” 
Rindou’s fists were tight at his side, nails digging into his palms as he stood next to his brother, warily eyeing the group of older boys that stood at the mouth of the alley, blocking any possible escape route for the two of them.
Even as the words left his lips, Rindou knew the answer. It might not be the best idea but it was the only one. Kuroiwa and Shimada kept moving closer and closer into their territory, closer to you and your school and the penthouse and Rindou had a sick feeling about it. And he knew that to some extent, his worry was unwarranted--Miss Yua and Mister Ayato were driving you to and from school, to your skating lessons and back. You never went out alone--Rindou was always with you and Ran was hovering around in the distance watching over both of you but…
It only takes one slip up. 
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ran said and Rindou glanced up at his brother--he was sure that he had never seen him so serious before. Ran’s lips were pressed together tight and his eyes were sharp as he watched the group gathering at the entrance to the alley, more showing up as each second passed. 
Ran stepped forward. Rindou stiffened.
“Too afraid to face us on your own that you had to bring your entire gang, Kuroiwa?” Ran looked deceptively at ease as he mocked the president of Max Maniacs but Rindou knew better--he could see the way that Ran’s shoulders were tenser than usual and he could see the way his lip twitched in irritation.
“Relax,” Kuroiwa stepped forward, Shimada at his heels, a cigarette hanging between his lips, and Rindou grit his teeth at the lazy drawl. Fucking sleaze, Rindou thought to himself, “They’re only here to watch. You know how it goes, we need witnesses.”
“Witnesses are supposed to be neutral,” Rindou spit out and Kuroiwa turned his beady gaze onto him. He didn’t like it, it made his skin crawl. 
“There are no neutral parties in Roppongi,” Kuroiwa said, “Only us and you.”
Rindou exhaled through his nose, teeth grinding together, knowing that Kuroiwa was right. All of the minor gangs that had been littered throughout Roppongi and the rest of Minato had been absorbed into Max Maniacs. And while going to a gang from another ward was possible, the only other real option was the Black Dragons based in Shibuya and Rindou wasn’t even sure if they could be considered an option considering how unstable they had become over the past year. Rindou was pretty sure they had gone through a matter of three leaders in the course of nine months.
“Guess it’ll just be us by the end of the day, though,” Shimada was the one to speak up and Rindou’s gaze darted up, nose wrinkling as the older boy spit out a wad of saliva to the ground. “One way or another,” he added.
“One last chance to settle this peacefully,” Kuroiwa told the two of them and Rindou grimaced.
There would be no settling this peacefully. Rindou knew this, hands tight at his side, Ran knew this from the way his gaze darkened, Kuroiwa knew it from the amused smile twitching on his lips and Shimada knew it from the snort that ripped from his mouth. Even if they did what Kuroiwa and Shimada wanted, joined them… Rindou grimaced. There was already too much bad blood, he and Ran had fought with just about every member they had come across around Roppongi. It would not end well for them. 
“No?” Shimada’s voice grated against Rindou’s ears, hatred stirred in his gut. Ran would end up fighting the president, he would end up fighting Shimada. Unease hit him almost immediately. Shimada is bigger than him. A lot fucking bigger than him. And Rindou had training, yeah, but… He swallowed thickly. 
He’d have to fight smarter, be faster. One hit from Shimada could fuck him up bad. He couldn’t let the two of them gang up on Ran. 
Fight smarter, he reminded himself. Pretend you’re at the dojo. 
But he’s not at the dojo, this isn’t a supervised spar. They could fucking kill him, kill Ran. They could go after you once taking the two of them out. 
His heartbeat was racing and Rindou could feel the panic beginning to take hold. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, Breathe out.
Losing wasn’t an option. Fight smarter. 
He shared a look with Ran. Calm down, Ran told him silently, we’ll be fine. 
And for a second, Rindou was jealous, and it was for such a petty reason that Rindou didn’t even want to admit it to himself. But he just could never understand where Ran got all of his confidence from. He supposed that was a lie. Of course, Ran was confident, he was good at everything he set his mind to; a natural where Rindou had to put in hours of training just to even have a chance of keeping up. 
And Rindou hated it, he hated how when you were around watching them spar, your eyes would always follow Ran instead of him; he hated how Ran would always stay behind without him having to ask, knowing that Rindou was going to spend extra hours training; he hated how no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seen to catch up to Ran. 
Now’s not the time, he told himself, focus.
“Guess it’s a no then,” Kuroiwa said after a moment when neither of them responded to Shimada. He looked over at Shimada. “Let’s finish this then.”
Rindou stiffened, Ran’s lips pulled up in a thin, unfriendly smile, “Yeah,” he agreed, “let’s.”
Shimada was on him in a second and Rindou’s eyes shot open, barely dodging a fist aimed for his face. Focus, he told himself, lips twisted down. His eyes darted to the side, catching sight of Kuroiwa engaging Ran in combat.
Fuck, Rindou was more than capable of fighting on his own. He knew that. He did. He was confident in his fighting abilities even if he acknowledged Ran was better. But… it didn’t matter, he reminded himself, more insistently, focus. You won’t win if you don’t focus. Don’t let them gang up on Ran. 
Rindou grunted, taking a blow to the side as he took the opportunity to grab his arm, twisting it hard enough for Shimada to let out a sharp shout of pain before Rindou drove his fist deep into the man’s gut--once, twice, three times, and he was going for a fourth when he found himself flung back hard against the building on the alley.
His head hit the concrete with a painful smack and a loud crunch resounded from his left arm. His vision spun and the breath was ripped from his lungs as he desperately tried to stand back up before Shimada was on him.
“Y’know, we’ve been lookin’ for you fuckin’ douchebags,” Shimada spit out and Rindou wiped the blood from his mouth as he rose back to his feet, begging his vision to stop spotting. “You haven’t been in the alleys you usually hang around, f’months now.”
That’s right. Eight months, to be exact. It had been eight months since they had moved into the penthouse and Rindou still couldn’t get used to having a stable place to live with a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs every morning and every night, to having air conditioning when it was too hot and heat when it was too cold. Even when they had been stuck in that orphanage, they had to fight for food and froze at night during the winter with their flimsy sheets and broken windows. Rindou wasn’t sure there was ever a time before the past eight months that he and Ran were genuinely living and not just surviving.
Focus, he reminded himself again. Focus or you’ll lose it all. 
His heartbeat hammered in his chest. His throat closed up at the thought. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let them lose it--he’d never seen Ran so at ease before these last eight months, so content. He was always stressing about food and clean water and shelter and gangs. He had rarely smiled except for when fighting and even then they weren’t genuine smiles. He couldn’t let them lose it. 
“So we did some lookin’ into it, yeah?” Shimada’s words drew Rindou back to attention, and an uncomfortable feeling began to rise. “We’ve had our eyes on her for a hot minute, y’know? That pretty thing that always hangs around the two of you,” he said, “The Izanagi heiress.” 
Rindou’s heart dropped. “Well take them off her,” he spit out, and he hated the way that his voice slurred.
“Nah, don’t think we will,” Shimada said and the grin on his face was nothing short of lecherous and it made Rindou’s skin crawl. “After we put the two of you down, we might just take her for ourselves.” Rindou’s ears rang, the words echoing in his head, his blood ran hot with fury but Shimada just continued, “You get a piece of her yet? A bit young for my taste but bet she-”
A sickening crack cut him off mid-sentence and Rindou turned his attention toward where Ran was standing over Kuroiwa, face blank and blood staining his face. His eyes widened when he saw Kuroiwa laying limp on the ground, blood pooling around his head. 
Ran turned toward Shimada, “What the fuck did you just say?”
Shimada laughed but Rindou’s body felt cold because he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Ran like this before, he went to step forward. “Fuck you-” Shimada began but Rindou could only watch as Ran was on him in a second, fist driving so hard into his face that it sent Shimada sprawling to the ground.
“Rindou, hold him down,” Rindou barely even recognized Ran’s voice, staring at him in disbelief. It sounded cold, empty, “Rindou, now.”
Rindou’s body moved on automatic, locking his arms and legs up so that Shimada couldn’t move, grimacing as pain shot through his left arm. He let out a grunt as Shimada desperately tried to kick him off. The laugh that pulled from his lips surprised even him--it was nothing short of cruel as Shimada let out a cry of pain, the joint-locking technique that their Sensei had taught him at the dojo taking effect as the older boy struggled against his hold. 
Ran was on him in a second and the laugh that had been on Rindou’s lips fell instantly catching the lethal expression that had crossed over his brother’s face as he drove his fist into Shimada’s face over and over and over again--blood splattering on his clothes, his face, spilling on the ground below them.
“Ran,” Rindou’s voice was weaker than he intended as he tried and failed, for the first time, to get Ran’s attention. “Ran!”
Ran ignored him and Rindou cringed when a loud crack echoed in his ears as Ran’s fist drove into Shimada’s face again. 
He knew. Rindou knew his brother better than anyone else in the world and he knew that no matter how much Ran tried to avoid you, no matter how hard he tried to push it away, no matter how often he brushed you off whenever you tried to talk to him, Ran cared about you. Rindou could see it in every stolen glance whenever you weren’t paying attention, every time he went out of his way to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself when he could have just let you fall, every time he’d rush finishing whatever they were doing to make sure they could get to your school before classes let out so they could make sure you got home safely. Ran cared about you, and if Rindou knew one thing about Ran, it was that he cared deeply--so deeply that Rindou was sure that it scared him and that was why he was so insistent on holding you at arm’s length.
“Ran, you’re gonna kill him,” Rindou said but he knew that his words weren’t getting to his brother and his hands trembled around Shimada’s limbs as they went limp in his hold, “Ran, we’ve gotta go, we won, we-”
“Oi! Hands in the air, back away from him!” 
No way. Rindou’s heart felt like it was lodged in his throat. He looked up, backing away from Shimada immediately as his eyes fell upon the cops lining the mouth of the alley, guns raised and pointed at him and Ran. He grabbed Ran by the back of the shirt, yanking him off Shimada and Rindou watched as clarity slowly began washing over his face, as his eyes darted between the cops and the dead end alley behind them.
Nowhere to run.
The cops were on the two of them in an instant, yanking Rindou away from Ran and making him let out a hiss of pain at the grip on his left arm. “Hey,” Ran shouted, “The fuck are you doing? Let him go!” 
The cops ignored him and Rindou grimaced as he cuffed his arms behind his back, “Hey,” Ran’s voice was louder, edged on desperate, and Rindou hated it. Ran never sounded desperate, “Let him the fuck go! He didn’t do anything!”
Rindou nearly stumbled to the ground as the cops jostled him forward toward the car, Ran shouting up a storm as they dragged him along. 
“Rin! Ran!” Rindou’s breath caught as he heard your familiar voice calling for them, gaze darting to the side to see you running down the street toward them, eyes wide, panting and still in your school uniform, “Hey! What are you doing with them? Let them go!” 
You pushed past two cops that tried to stop you from reaching them, failing to push through the third as he grabbed you by the arm, dragging you back, “Let me go! Hey, let me go right now!” 
“That’s the Izanagi heiress,” one of the cops holding Ran muttered as they pushed the two of them into the car, “The hell is she doing out here?”
“Ran, Rin! I’ll figure something out, I promise, I-” 
Your voice was cut off as the doors slammed shut behind them and Rindou wanted to cry because he was pretty sure they had just lost exactly what he had feared. 
--
Your feet padded against the white tiles as you took off down the halls of Izanagi HQ, sweating through your school uniform having sprinted halfway across Roppongi to get there. You ignored the secretary yelling behind you, telling you to stop because your uncle was in a meeting. 
You didn’t care. He’s avoided you since your parent’s funeral and you needed him now, so he would deal with you whether he liked it or not. 
You pushed open the doors to his office, catching sight of him talking with an unfamiliar man. You kept your chin high, trying to hide your shakiness as both of the men turned toward you, “I need your assistance immediately!” you said. Your voice shook, your lip trembled, it was not going well.
Your uncle raised his eyebrows, “Y/n,” he murmured, “You should not be here.”
“I need your assistance,” you repeated, and it wasn’t what you had been trying to say. You wanted to tell him that two of your friends, your only friends, were just taken by the cops, that you didn’t know how to help them, but all you could do was repeat yourself in fear that you would break down if you voiced aloud what had happened.
The blood, the limp body, had they killed him? What had happened?
Your uncle stared at you for a moment but it wasn’t him that spoke next, “You must be y/n, I was wondering when we would meet,” your attention turned to the casually dressed tattooed man lounging next to your uncle, he gave you an easy smile that nearly settled your nerves until the sight of the Haitanis covered in blood came back to mind, “My name is Sugawara Iwao, I’m your uncle’s friend. What do you need help with, little one?” 
Your throat was tight, your nails dug deep into your palms, “M-M-M-” you couldn’t get the word out, “My friends! They’re in trouble! They were taken by the cops, I think-” Ran’s bloody fists, Rindou’s ghastly expression, “I think something bad happened! I don’t know what to do.”
“By your friends, you mean the two boys that have moved into the penthouse?” your uncle questioned and you hesitated under his stare, unable to meet his gaze. You were uncomfortable, and you shouldn’t be uncomfortable because he’s your uncle, but you’ve only seen him once in your whole life and it was at your parents’ and sister’s funeral and it brought back bad memories.
You swallowed thickly, nodding. Your uncle’s lips tightened as he looked down at his phone before rising to his feet, sharing a look with Sugawara Iwao as he left the room, phone pressed to his ear, leaving you with the older man. 
You eyed him from the corner of your gaze, and the expression he directed at you had you shifting in discomfort--sadness? 
“Don’t blame Ichirou for his aloofness,” he murmured, “You look a lot like your mother,” his lips lifted into a wry smile, “Act like her too, from what I can tell.”
Your throat went dry at the verbal reminder of your mother, nails digging even deeper into your skin. You looked away sharply. Sugawara Iwao let out a sigh, “You’ll understand one day.”
And a part of you had wished that you had listened to your uncle’s secretary and waited for this stupid meeting to end because you couldn’t stand the pitiful look Sugawara Iwao was sending your way. 
It took your uncle far too long to come back and when he did, his expression was grim, “Your boys are in quite the situation,” he murmured and your blood went cold. He shared a look with Sugawara Iwao over your head before kneeling down in front of you so that the two of you were face to face. You nearly stepped back away from him but managed to stop yourself. “We should be able to help them.”
Relief hit you like a tidal wave--relief that disappeared very quickly as the ‘but’ came. 
“But I’m going to need you to do something if we want this to work.”
--
“Thank you, your Honor. I call to the stand l/n y/n.”
Rindou blinked, the helplessness that had been clouding his mind since the beginning of the one-sided trial fading for just a second. He wasn’t sure if he heard the name correctly but from the shocked whispers echoing around the courtroom at your surname, he figured he had heard correctly. He turned to look at Ran, who looked just as confused, before they both swiveled around to try to pinpoint where exactly you were.
Why were you even here? Much less being called to the stand?
It’s not like you could say much, not having been there when it happened. And Rindou was pretty sure there wasn’t much you’d be able to do even if you had been there. The prosecution had brought up half of the members of Max Maniacs as witnesses testifying against them, claiming that they had murdered Shimada in cold blood, beating him until he stopped moving, stopped breathing. 
Claiming, Rindou felt sick, wasn’t claiming because it was the truth. He glanced at Ran who was once again staring ahead blankly. He’d barely spoken since the whole thing had gone down but Rindou caught the guilty looks that Ran kept sparing toward him whenever he thought Rindou wasn’t paying attention.
35 years. They were facing a fucking life sentence.
“Will the witness please stand to be sworn in by the bailiff?”
He finally caught sight of you as you rose to your feet, sitting between two well-dressed men--one that he recognized from the pictures around your penthouse as your uncle, and the other who was unfamiliar, tattoos peeking out from underneath his dress shirt.
“Please raise your right hand,” Rindou watched as you swallowed thickly, raising your right hand, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“I do,” you said and the bailiff nodded at you to come sit at the stand. Rindou watched, confused, as you slipped out of the bench and walked up toward the stand, smoothing out your clothes before taking a seat. 
And Rindou could see the anxiety in your eyes as your gaze drifted over them, not lingering too long before their lawyer asked you to state your name for the court.
“My name is l/n y/n,” you said, and your voice shook, and Rindou fisted his pants tight.
“Miss l/n, you were there at the confrontation between Haitani Ran, Haitani Rindou, Shimada Asahi and Kuroiwa Haruto?” 
“I was,” you said and it took all of Rindou’s willpower not to let his eyes widen because what the fuck were you doing? 
“Miss l/n, can you recount the events as you properly recall?” 
And he watched you hesitate. He watched the way your eyes flickered back toward your uncle and the other man, and he watched as you ripped your gaze from them to look at Rindou and Ran before looking back at the defense lawyer.
“I left school early,” your voice was shaking and Rindou was sure your hands were trembling on your lap as well, “I wanted to get home because I forgot my ice skates. I had lessons right after school and needed to get them.”
You were lying, Rindou’s mouth was dry. You never had ice skating lessons on Thursdays. What the fuck were you doing?
“I was halfway home when they cornered me--Shimada and Kuroiwa, I mean. And-” your voice wavered, Rindou watched your bottom lip wobble. You were going to cry, and Rindou wanted to scream and shake you for trying to get up there and lie for them under oath. You were shit at lying and you were going to get in trouble and- “They were saying awful things, and-and I couldn’t run because they had me cornered and then more of them kept showing up. I-”
“She’s lying!” One of the members of Kuroiwa’s gang was on their feet in a second but one of the cops in the room was on him in a second, forcing him back in his seat.
“I was scared,” you ignored the interruption, “I-I didn’t know what to do and then they showed up,” you nodded at Rindou and Ran, “They fought them to help me but Shimada just wouldn’t stop. He kept making vile threats toward me and them, he kept getting back up.”
And Rindou could only stare, your words barely registering in his head as the lies spilled from your lips like second nature. And a part of him wondered if this was really you, because you were an awful liar--you couldn’t even hide surprises or gifts from them, they always had to pretend to be surprised whenever you finally showed them, but right now, if Rindou hadn't been there himself…
Even as the prosecution rose to begin the cross-examination, the tears spilled over your cheeks but your story didn’t waver. Half of the juries wore aghast expressions, the people attending the trial were whispering amongst themselves, and for a second, Rindou couldn’t understand it. They had been against them--him and Ran, that is, before you had taken the stand. They hadn’t taken anything they said into consideration, believing the word of the prosecution and their witnesses over him. 
So why…
He caught sight of the gleam of expensive jewelry decorating your wrist and neck, the tears streaming down your pretty face, the way your body trembled and your eyes kept darting back toward your uncle. 
Ah. 
He realized very quickly why the tides had shifted in their favor so quickly. It had been the word of two against many at first, but now it was the word of you, a girl with an influential and affluent family name, versus the word of a bunch of delinquents. 
They didn’t stand a chance.
And Rindou couldn’t help the giddy feeling that swept through him as the prosecution concluded the cross-examination, realizing they might not actually be facing as severe of a sentence as originally believed but at the same time, a heavy feeling settled in his chest when he noticed the expression on your face as you stepped off the stand after being dismissed by the judge.
The giddiness disappeared completely when he realized what exactly you had done for them. His throat felt tight.
He watched as you made your way back to where you were sitting with your uncle and the unfamiliar man; as your uncle squeezed your shoulder and leaned down to murmur something in your ear; as you looked up at him, eyes wide and an unreadable expression on your face; as the unfamiliar man patted the top of your head as the judge ordered the bailiff to take the jury to the jury room to consider their verdict. 
And as your uncle looked away and the guilty expression on your face shifted into a more validated one, Rindou had a sick feeling that something had just fundamentally changed.
--- 
PRESENT.
“How outdated,” you said distastefully, nose wrinkled as you eyed the surveillance cameras that yours would be replacing, “No wonder crime has skyrocketed so high. How do you expect to catch criminals with… this?” 
“How pretentious,” a familiar voice drawled in response and you nearly rolled your eyes as you looked over your shoulder to face the droopy expression of Yamamoto Takuya, the head of Izanami’s research and development branch. You shot him an irritated look, his lips lifted into a lazy smile in return, “The technology isn’t half-bad, you’re just used to ours.”
Your brows furrowed as you eyed the camera again, shooting a suspicious look back toward your old friend, “You’re late,” you said as he came up behind you, looking over your shoulder to inspect the surveillance camera.
“My flight was delayed, and you asked me to stop and talk to Yamagishi,” he said, he picked one of the cameras up, lips twisting down as he examined it, “maybe they are pretty bad.”
You snorted, actually rolling your eyes this time as you turned to face Takuya, taking in the bags underneath his eyes, “No sleep?” 
“We had a breakthrough in segmenting on the new surveillance cameras--we’d been having trouble successfully separating speech signals from, y’know, regular ambient noise. It wasn’t too extreme but it was enough that it was reducing the effectiveness. Pretty sure we were able to pinpoint the issue though. Been spending the past few days trying to figure out how to fix it without having to redesign the whole program. Will probably go for another two before I crash.”
And you knew better than to try to scold him, or ask him to try to sleep. You had known Yamamoto Takuya since high school and he had always been an overachiever--driving himself into the ground to keep up with you academically, he had chilled once the two of you went to university, you had gotten into the same one abroad and had become friends while studying together there, being the only people each other knew, and when you had built Izanami, he was right at your side working with you on research. 
He had chilled, yes, but you knew he still had the capability of going nights without sleep when he found something that interested him and you knew this issue had been bugging him since the initial development of the new software and the problem arose. 
“Don’t even start,” Takuya said and you rolled your eyes.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” you said, glancing around the open area before turning around to fully face him. Considering your words as you leaned back against the table that the old surveillance technology was resting on, you finally asked, “What did you find out about Bonten?” your voice was quiet, little over a murmur. You were certain you were in a secure location, and that there was no one around to overhear but you couldn’t help but hesitate.
Takuya eyed you curiously before shrugging half-heartedly, “Not much. They’re good at hiding--was able to learn a bit about Kokonoi Hajime, though. Real rich, until you came back to Tokyo was pretty sure he was the richest person here. Surpassed your uncle a couple months back. Has some major footholds in the tech and pharma industries. Was going after Fujitsu Limited to try to secure his place in the tech industry over your uncle.”
Surpassed your uncle, you raised your eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. Impressive for someone that started with nothing.
You let out a huff, “I’m gonna be spending a shit ton at this event, aren’t I?” you muttered, tilting your head up to look at the glass ceiling.
“Oh yeah, a fuck ton,” Takuya agreed, “Doubt it’ll even be because of Kokonoi Hajime though. This auction is apparently a real big shot in the underworld of the east, was hosted in Vladivostok last year--gonna have shady organizations from all over tryna get their hands on the weapons.”
You let out a huff, letting your head drop down, face tilted toward the floor, “‘m gunna have to liquidate all my assets in the Philippines.”
Takuya snorted, “More than that, probably.”
You let out a groan, “Man, I hate it here,” you said, tossing Takuya a withering look when he nudged you.
“Why’re you even doing this, y/n?” Takuya asked quietly, “you hate this shit. I can see it in your face, I know you…”
You tuned him out, you already knew what he was going to say. Takuya hated when Izanami started getting involved with the shadier part of the world, and he knew you hated it too but… you were in too deep to back out now. And it was no one’s fault but your own. And now it wasn’t just you at risk--Ran and Rindou were at risk because of you, you and your technology.
You felt sick to your stomach. 
You shouldn’t have gone to your uncle for help. You should’ve taken the loss, the embarrassment, the failure but-
“They know, Takuya,” you said, cutting him off mid-sentence. Takuya paused, looking at you. You couldn’t meet his eyes, “They know about Munich.”
Takuya’s expression dropped, “How?” he asked and you opened your mouth to respond but hesitated when you heard a pair of heels clicking against the ground, approaching you from behind. 
You looked over your shoulder, a frown tugging at your lips when caught sight of the smooth, silvery pink bob cut of Kawaragi Senju, dressed in a neat, dark suit. “Is it time already?” you asked, pushing off of the table after shooting Takuya a look. He nodded once, making his way deeper into the building to take over overseeing the new installations. You would have to talk to him later, figure out how to approach the situation--figure out if there was a way to find out if Sugawara had any physical evidence on you or your uncle’s involvement in the Munich incident. 
“Almost,” Kawaragi said, “Hanma is out in the car waiting. He can keep waiting though. I wanted to talk to you.”
You raised your eyebrows, waiting for the other young woman to elaborate, “The weapons--when we acquire them--you have a secure place to store them?”
You, you noted, narrowing into her wording of the sentence. 
Interesting, you considered her curiously, did she not want you to hand them over to Sugawara? It seemed that way. 
But you couldn’t help but hesitate.
Why? Because she didn’t trust Sugawara with them or because she was trying to set you up? 
Or are you just reading into it?
You didn’t know, you hated not knowing. It made you anxious.
You had to confirm. Or try to at least. 
“I do,” you finally said, “Is there not a place that all of you use to store… items?”
Kawaragi stared at you for a moment, face conflicted as if she wasn’t sure how to respond. Finally, she decided on, “There is,” her voice left no room for question. So there is a place, but she’d prefer the weapons not be stored there?
Ah, you realized, interesting.
“I see,” you said, “in that case, yes, I do have some place to store them.” 
She nodded once, “Good,” she said, green eyes flickering back toward you momentarily, “Be sure to stick with Hanma or me during the event, there’s bound to be a hit on your head while there.”
She motioned for you to follow her and you did so, smiling thinly, “Having a hit on my head is something I’ve become used to over the years,” you said wryly but your mind was still on overdrive, nitpicking every word of the conversation that both you and she had spoken. Had you been reading into it? No there was no way, the way she worded it… but still… there was always a chance, “Men really do seem to hate women in positions of power.”
Kawaragi snorted, “That they do,” she agreed, holding the door open for you. Your eyes fell on a sleek dark car parked on the side of the road with its window rolled down. Hanma Shuji lounged in the back, raising one hand up in a half-hearted wave before looking back down at his phone. 
Kawaragi didn’t seem inclined to continue the discussion, only walking with you toward the car and slipping into the back seat after you. As soon as you took your seat between them, Hanma leaned in uncomfortably close, “Y/n-chan, nice seeing you again,” he murmured, and it took all of your self-control not to turn to face him, knowing if you turned you’d be bumping noses with him, “You don’t look at all bothered, it’s about to get exciting, y’know? Figured you’d at least be sweating knowing there’s gonna be people after you in there.”
You turned to look at him, eyes cold and so close you could smell the faint scent of smoke on his breath, noses nearly brushing and a slow smile curled at his lips. 
“There’s always people after me,” you said flatly, “Why are you so close to me?” 
And Hanma laughed, not even bothering to move back. Kawaragi spoke before he could say anything, “Because he has no awareness of personal space,” she said dryly.
“Clearly,” you responded and Hanma gave you a mock pout.
“Look at you guys, ganging up on me like that,” he complained, leaning back against the window, eyeing you so knowingly that it had your hair on end. The wide smile shifted into a sharper smirk, “I guess I should’ve expected you two to get along, lotta similarities there.” 
Next to you, Kawaragi stiffened and your eyes narrowed onto Hanma, trying to figure out what exactly he had meant by that. 
It could just be that you’re both women and executives in the organization, you tried to convince yourself, but a heavy feeling settled in your chest--one that made you feel as if it weren’t that simple. 
You decided to ignore the comment, “What’s the game plan for the auction? We have to stay there the whole night or can we leave after we get the weapons?” 
You did not want to stay the whole night--especially if there was a chance that the Haitanis would be there. 
You felt ill. 
Bonten would be there--Sugawara is certain that they’re going to send executives to acquire the weapons. And if they’re there and if Sanzu is one of them, Hanma will recognize the pink hair from how you described in the meeting, and they’ll see the Haitanis with him and realize that they’re all together. The Haitanis would be outed as Bonten executives and there’d be nothing you could do about it.
And for a second, you hated yourself for not giving up the scarred, dark-haired one instead. There were millions of dark-haired men in Tokyo, you could have found a way to work with that to keep the Haitanis’ position in Bonten safe. But now, if Sanzu is there, you’re all but fucked. 
Fuck.
“Sugawara is pretty insistent on us ID’ing the Bonten executives while we’re there,” Hanma said, “Wants us to take out their wallet too, if we can--would cripple them real good.”
“Mm, I’m sure they’re trying to do the same to us,” you said flatly, “How are we going to pinpoint who the Bonten executives are? There’s gonna be a bunch of different organizations there, yeah?” 
Hanma only smiled, eyes dancing with mirth. Dread pooled in your gut. 
“You just leave that part to me, y/n-chan.”
--
Was it on purpose? 
Rindou didn’t know. His grip was tight around his phone as he glanced down at the message you had sent for what seemed like the millionth time since you sent it before turning off the screen, leaning against the wall and letting his hand drop back to his side, eyes sliding shut as mind raced.
He didn’t know, Ran didn’t know. No one knew. 
And Rindou wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.
He wanted to believe it was just a coincidence. That you really just got caught up with work and were letting them know what was going on, unintentionally saving their asses from going out and getting ID’ed by your newly installed biometric technology that was being put up around the city. 
But a part of him hesitated. 
Because ever since you had left to go to university abroad, since you founded Izanami and made your way into the big league industries, you had become less than forthcoming with information toward them. Legitimate explanations had turned into, ‘sorry, gonna be busy, can’t call later,’ until you just straight up ghosted them. 
And this was out of character, going into detail about what exactly the business you were dealing with involved to let them know why you wouldn’t be around. And yes, it might be because you genuinely wanted to reconnect with them, that you wanted them to know you weren’t just blowing them off for nothing--it would be the most logical explanation, Rindou knew that.
But…
But something didn’t sit right with him.
It made his skin crawl. Because why would you be warning them? How would you know they needed to be warned? Did that mean you knew they were in Bonten? How did you know that they were in Bonten? None of it added up and it made Rindou sick to his stomach because he didn’t want you to know that he and Ran had gotten involved with this, how low they had fallen.
He didn’t want you to know. It must have been a stroke of luck. He repeated it over and over again, desperately trying to convince himself.
“We shouldn’t even be here,” Kokonoi said under his breath, “we should have just sent fuckin’ Shion and his guys again.”
“Mikey wanted us to secure it, plus we can plug up their money stream by taking out whoever’s funding them,” Sanzu drawled, “stop bitchin’, Koko.”
Kokonoi shot Sanzu a lethal look, “We’re putting targets on our heads,” Kokonoi hissed, “We’re here to take out their wallet and I’m sure they have the same goal with us. And guess who that is? Me, I am our wallet. I’m the one-”
“Shut up already,” Sanzu complained, “your voice is grating.”
Kokonoi looked as if he were about to slap the shit out of Sanzu and Rindou wanted to blow his own brains out, head already pounding. 
“It would look bad on us if we didn’t show,” Kakucho murmured, in agreement with Sanzu for once, “There are higher-ups from a bunch of different organizations here. Would’ve been a sign of weakness if we sent our men.”
Rindou wasn’t too sure of that, he fought back the urge to tug at the high-collared turtleneck he had on, face flushed from heat and the three drinks he had gone through already. And even so, who gives a shit about appearances when their lives are on the line? 
“How will we even know who they are?” Ran asked, “There’s a fuck ton of people here. They could be here already and we have no idea.” 
“Just keep your head on,” Kokonoi said, “We’ll be able t-”
“Oi,” Rindou turned to face Kakucho at the unusually sharp tone from the younger man, lips tugged down, “Think we’ve got company.”
Rindou followed his gaze up toward the balcony, frowning as his eyes fell upon people standing at the edge of the balcony--none other than Hanma fucking Shuji right smack in the middle, leaning on the railing, sin and punishment hanging over it on broad display for everyone to see.
Kawaragi Senju stood right next to him, gaze trained sharply in their direction and Rindou would have looked back to check Sanzu’s reaction had he not physically faltered catching sight of the woman who just approached on Hanma’s other side.
His brows furrowed and he swore his heart faltered, what the fuck?
His head snapped to the side, trying to spot Ran to make sure he wasn’t seeing things but Ran was in just the same state of shock, taking half a step forward, lip parted, eyes wide and aimed on you--you, who was standing next to Hanma Shuji, head tilted to the side as he leaned in close, murmuring something in your ear. 
Rindou’s body was on fire and he shoved his hands into his pockets to hide the way his fingers had started trembling. 
A coincidence? he thought desperately, but the sinking feeling in his chest only grew as Hanma Shuji nudged his nose against the side of your head before nodding in their direction. Rindou watched as your face turned, following Hanma’s eyes down toward where Rindou was standing with Ran, Sanzu, Kakucho and Kokonoi.
Your expression didn’t even shift once, no sign of acknowledgment, or recognition, a sort of stone cold emptiness that had Rindou’s heart in his throat, “That can’t be them,” Rindou didn’t even recognize his own voice as he shook his head, “It must be another group.” 
“It makes sense,” Kokonoi said, voice low, “I don’t know how I didn’t put it together sooner. Of fucking course it was Ichirou that’s been funding them, he’s really the only one that can compete with me financially.”
“No,” Rindou said but even as he spoke, he knew he was only trying to convince himself, “It can’t be, she’s not involved with this shit. She-”
“Rindou,” Kakucho cut him off and Rindou hated the half-pitying look that Kakucho shot in his direction. 
“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Rindou spit out, mind racing as he looked back at Ran whose lips were twisted into a frown and whose eyes were dark as he looked up at you, Hanma Shuji and Kawaragi Senju.
There was no way, there was just no way, Rindou refused to believe it because he knew you, and he knew you’d never get involved with this life.
Unless you had no choice, a darker voice reminded him and he still tried to argue, no, you wouldn’t-
You had done shady shit in the past--lying on the stand when they were going to be sent to juvie to get their sentence lowered, threatening South at the detention center, you were capable of it but-
But Rindou couldn’t bring himself to believe it. 
Even if he was looking right at you.
His gaze darted back toward Ran again, trying to figure out what the fuck he should do but Ran couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of you, “Ran,” Rindou muttered quietly, trying to get his attention but his brother didn’t respond, the only sign of acknowledgment being the downward twitch of his lips. “Ran,” Rindou repeated but again got no response.
Rindou’s fist curled tight in his pocket, eyes darting back up toward where you were talking quietly with Hanma, dressed in a dark suit and standing too close to the man for comfort. Or, his comfort at least, you looked more than comfortable half-leaning into Hanma Shuji, whispering to each other like teenage girls at a lunch table in high school.
There’s no way, he thought, teeth grit together tight but he couldn’t even convince himself because Kokonoi was right. They should have known that it was your uncle funding the organization that kept stepping in Bonten’s way at every turn. He was the only one that could match Kokonoi financially, and they should have put together that the moment the tides started shifting into Bonten’s favor, you came back to Tokyo--not to oversee the acquisition, not to see them, but to deepen your uncle and that group’s wallet.
Fuck, Rindou was going to have a panic attack as he slowly realized what this all meant--he could feel his chest tightening and his body was searing hot, it felt like his skin was melting right off his bones. Calm down, he tried to tell himself before he spiraled. The last time he had to deal with this was…
His eyes darted back up toward you and Rindou’s mouth went dry when your eyes met his. He waited for any sort of acknowledgment, or any sort of hint that this might not be what it looks like but all he got was an empty stare in response--cold, calculating, void of any emotion that might soothe Rindou’s growing anxiety.
The means they know anyway, Rindou’s mind was racing, you saw them all at the club--him, Ran, Sanzu, Kakucho, Kokonoi--with the tattoos on broad display, there’s no way-
The hit.
Rindou’s world stilled, the hit, there’s a hit on their wallet--there’s a hit on you, you’re the one funding them, you-
“Sanzu, call off the hit,” Rindou’s voice sounded far away even to his own ears, and he didn’t even know why he was doing this. You left them, you were on the other side, so why- “Sanzu, call off the fucking hit.”
Sanzu didn’t respond, gaze dark and trained solely on Kawaragi Senju, Rindou snapped his attention to Kakucho, “Kakucho, call off the hit,” Rindou hissed. “Call it off.”
Kakucho wouldn’t look at him, “I can’t do that, Rindou,” he murmured and Rindou stepped closer to him, fist tight and arm shaking.
“Kakucho, I’ll fucking kill you, that’s y/n, call off the fucking hit,” Rindou was speaking before his mind could catch up and Rindou knew, he knew that he shouldn’t be saying this--defending you, who seemed to be in league with Bonten’s enemies, it was tantamount to betrayal and he knew that you didn’t deserve his defense but Rindou couldn’t stop himself.
“Rindou, we can’t-”
“Hi!” your familiar voice met his ears and instantly, the anger disappeared and was replaced by confusion. He turned to face, eyes falling upon the wide smile pulling at your lips. If Rindou had been anyone else, he would have fallen for the excited look and bright-eyed gaze you directed toward them.
Or, Kokonoi, actually, he realized once he noticed who your gaze was trained on. Hanma Shuji and Kawaragi Senju followed behind you, the former eyeing you curiously while the latter looked confused.
“You must be Kokonoi Hajime!” you said loudly, pressing a palm to your chest and Rindou’s brows furrowed ever-so slightly. You had met Kokonoi the other night, why… ”It’s a pleasure to finally meet the man that has backed my uncle so neatly into a corner! I must say I’m impressed, the fact that he had to call me back into town to handle you is quite the feat, if I do say so myself! He’s not one to ask for help, you know?” 
“Handle me?” Kokonoi raised his eyebrows, and your smile widened and Rindou wanted to scream. He looked over to Ran, still unsure as to what to do, but Ran was only watching you, frowning deep, eyes dark. 
“Oh, is that what I said? A slip of the tongue,” you laughed it off but for a second, when your gaze darted toward Rindou, the smile didn’t reach your eyes. It was not a slip of the tongue, Rindou recognized, throat tight--you were brought back to help take down Bonten. But you lied like second nature, so well that Rindou barely even caught the lies--all of your old tells long gone, and Rindou wondered just how much you had changed over the years. 
You held your hand out toward Kokonoi.
“L/n y/n,” you introduced, and Rindou watched, an uncomfortable feeling stirring as Kokonoi took your hand and you immediately leaned in close, face inches from him. “But you can call me y/n,” you said, tossing him a wink.
Kokonoi, to his credit, did not look uncomfortable at the sudden proximity, “Call me Hajime,” he said, and your eyes turned up at the words as you finally took a step back. The uncomfortable feeling slipped away as fast as it came. 
“I’m going to go make some rounds, I hope we get the chance to talk again later, Hajime!” 
Rindou hated the way you said his name. He hated the way you didn’t look at him or Ran once. He hated the way your eyes glossed over them as if they weren’t there. He hated the way he could feel Ran’s discomfort even from several feet away. And he hated the way you didn’t even bother to look back as you and Hanma Shuji and Kawaragi Senju started to make your way to the front stage.
“Y/n!” another voice called, accented--German, maybe?--and Rindou watched as your expression dropped, eyes cold and unwelcoming, lips tight. Rindou followed where the voice had come from, eyes falling upon a young blonde man with dark eyes, “It’s been forever!” 
You paused midstep, barely turning your head to look over your shoulder, eyeing the man from the corner of your eye. Hanma’s brows furrowed as he looked between the two of you, Kawaragi’s lips dipped into a frown. 
Your face had drained of color and a heavy feeling settled in Rindou’s chest as he looked between the two of you.
Something was wrong. He was sure he’d never seen you so… scared. You looked fucking scared and it made Rindou’s skin crawl.
“Man, I think the last time we talked was in Munich! Can you believe it's really been six years?” 
---
REBLOGS N FEEDBACK V V V MUCH APPRECIATED
wordcount: 8.6k
725 notes · View notes
horangboosadan · 11 months
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DOMINO | PROFILES: someone’s got a bad idea
synopsis:  A literature student with a procrastination problem and a dancing major who always says yes makes for an interesting combo of neither getting things done. It doesn’t help that there’s a best friend in the mix certain that the two will fall in love and makes sure they spend time together, only the two of them.
Somehow, every deadline is still met. Even the amount of time expected before the start of a developing crush.
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pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x gender neutral!reader (they/them pronouns)
genre: romance, fluff, smau
masterlist
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SOONYOUNG: dance major who loves to make new friends. lives with the rest of ‘96s. has his own youtube channel under the name hoshi.
SEOKMIN: law student. lives with rest of ‘97s.
WONWOO: literature student. lives with rest of ‘96s.
JUN: literature student. lives with rest of ‘96s.
VERNON: music production major. lives with seungkwan and dino.
DINO: dance major. has a youtube called dino’s danceology under the name dino. lives with seungkwan and vernon.
WOOZI: music production major. has a soundcloud for the music under the name woozi. lives with the rest of ‘96s. 
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boo talks
hoshi friend gang is here too. unfortunately, these boys aren’t as big a part of the fic other than woozi being mentioned a lot (i dont think he actually has a text as of right now). but they all deserve their own profile as they do exist and will make cameos. after all, jun and wonwoo studies with yn. maybe you can see the lines between these twt profiles and the others. 
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gethoce · 1 year
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Gethoce Main Kirby OC Summary Post ~
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"All part of the plan."
Name: Heiadoze
Pronouns: She/Her
Species: Noddy
Age: Super Adult, Halcandra's Silver Age
Morals: Chaotic Neutral
Locations: GSA Headquarters, Necromancer's bedroom
Abilities: Sleep, Dream Magic
Allies: GSA, All Noddies
Reference
Known not only for her mastery of the sleep ability and her immensely powerful dream magic, but also for being the mother of Galacta Knight. She allies herself with pretty much anyone she considers fun, morals entirely disregarded. Those who are actively unfun or harm noddies she does not tolerate. She is always on the lookout for potential ways to help her new fun overlord, the Necromancer.
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"NO FIGHTING ON MY TRAIN!!!"
Name: Blood Knight / Pitchion
Pronouns: He/They
Species: Darksoul Matterborn
Age: Super Adult, Halcandra's Golden Age
Morals: Chaotic Good
Location: Underworld, Gatteka Dark Room
Abilities: Water, Dark Magic
Allies: Skull Gang, Reaper Butterflies, Meta-Knights
References: Here and Here
A train engineer responsible for travel between the Underworld and the overworld who occasionally visits Dark Rooms as well. Ever since he endured near-fatal injuries floating in Another Dimension he suffers from chronic pain issues and fears the stars. Despite appearing to be rather sinister, he tends to be very easy-going.
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"Let's never talk about this again."
Name: Xandos
Pronouns: He/Him
Species: Halcandran
Age: Adult, Halcandra's Golden Age
Morals: True Neutral
Location: Planet Silverstar
Abilities: Soul Magic, Zap Magic
Allies: Meta-Knights, Squeak Squad
Reference
The Halcandran who was once responsible for the enchantments of the Master Crown has fled forward in time to hide on a planet called Silverstar and took the puffball with him who later became known as Meta Knight. Today he sells enchanted items on the black market while keeping his past a secret, even to the puffball he raised.
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"You will always be my baby bat."
Name: Melem
Pronouns: She/Her
Species: Halcandran
Age: Adult, Halcandra's Golden Age
Morals: Neutral Good
Location: Galaxia
Abilities: Dark Magic, Dream Magic, Blizzard Magic
Allies: Star Allies, GSA
Reference
Xandos' sister who was the one in charge of the enchantments of the Master Sword. She willingly transferred her own consciousness into the sword to keep its powers safe after a tragic accident took the life of the swords smith, her best friend Garlude. From within the sword she can still communicate with those who wield it, giving them advice wherever she can, however she is awfully quiet when asked about the past.
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"I can’t believe I’m doing this…"
Name: Eon-Eon Dutch
Pronouns: Any/All
Species: Dark Matterborn
Age: Super Adult, Halcandra's Bronze Age
Morals: Lawful Evil
Location: Erim Dark Room, Nix Dark Room, Eon-Eon Territory
Abilities: Stone, Dark Magic, Dream Magic, Heart Magic
Allies: Clan Eon-Eon
Reference
A being that shepherds the darkness that threatens to swallow the stars away from the light to preserve it for as long as he lives. He is a warrior known for his immense patience, often mistaken for being a noble knight, yet he never fancied himself that kind of person. Dutch works for Clan Eon-Eon, which consists of only Dream Matterborn except for himself.
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