#Law is literally just getting ganged up on

[pyr0frnzy]

oh my god hes a loser

[othercrossee]

Will always be funny that all the diamond warden became iridas friend behind adamans back

[astonmartinii]

a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au

pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader

someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug

author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)

view all comments

user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head

yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕

user2: y/n where do we find a logan?

yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie

logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around

yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu

logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it

yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?

logansargent: okay..... maybe ....

alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud

yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹

alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?

yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute

logansargent: she loves you really alex

alexalbon: do you still love me logie?

logansargent: yes?

alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME

user3: lol mood ^

oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)

yourusername: ugh i guess

oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(

yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage

oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess

logansargent

liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)

also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️

view all comments

user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))

user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track

alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x

yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo

alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI

oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻

alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(

logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro

alexalbon: i guess...

user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?

yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes

oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY

logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn

fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling

logansargent: i paid?

fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others

tagged: logansargent & yourusername

oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite

view all comments

user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?

oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16

yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄

oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan

yourusername: LEAVE ME BE

user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium

user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh

logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game

oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water

yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩

oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE

landonorris: they're really one being huh?

oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME

yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone

landonorris: .... shame

oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER

logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND

yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND

landonorris: damn tough crowd

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off

view all comments

user11: they're so cute your honour

alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.

yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.

lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.

yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan

logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)

yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh

user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner

user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers

user14: and we respect that

logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe

yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘

logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻

yourusername: SNAP🫰

oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump

yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite

oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?

yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)

logansargent: ????

yourusername: *call us 😉

logansargent

liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others

tagged: yourusername

logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great

view all comments

user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?

user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹

alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER

oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨

alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸

logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once

yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it

logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?

yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary

logansargent: koala?

yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?

logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(

user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(

oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems

yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(

oscarpiastri: true 😔

logansargent: i can't help the southern charm

williamsf1

liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others

tagged: logansargent

williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤

view all comments

user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM

yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO

oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?

yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY

maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race

yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU

user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real

user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol

user23: as she should

user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other

logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team

yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media

yourusername: you need to know it :(

logansargent: i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet

user26: but it was cute as fuck

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others

tagged: logansargent

yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug

view all comments

user27: the CUDDLE BUG?

user28: i need to be taken out of my misery

logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever

oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK

yourusername: i thought it was cute :(

logansargent: and that's what matters

yourusername: exactlyyyyy

oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?

yourusername: yes!

logansargent: yes!

user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL

alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute

yourusername: we been known

logansargent: no one does it like us

alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?

yourusername: lily cute, you not so much

alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES

williamsf1: ???

yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)

logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻

yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(

logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!

fin.

note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx

[jackhues]

it's not hate... | oscar piastri

note: okay so i was bored and i got a random inspiration i hope y'all like this <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

next

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

youruser & logansargeant

liked by y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, yourmomsig & others

youruser: gang's back together 🤘

pinned youruser: welcome back to america @/logansargeant glad you could join us! -> user: i love how she seems sarcastic but i know babes is so happy he's back

user: logan living out his frat dreams

user: this would be logan daily if he didn't go into racing

user: wait i'm confused... who's this? -> user: y/n y/ln! from what we know, her and logan are best friends since they were born or something. she finished her undergrad, but i think she's doing law school now (?)

user: i ship -> user: ew

y/bffsuser: not pictured is the entire drink falling out -> logansargeant: it wasn't my fault! she moved her head -> youruser: yeah okay, blame the woman -> logansargeant: i blame when she's wrong. and you are. -> user: stop they're so sibling

yourmomsig: aw no one posted the pic of y/n falling off the bed during the fight -> youruser: MOM! -> logansargeant: i tried but she stole my phone -> user: well we know who the favorite child is now

y/bffsuser: @/yourprivuser no photo creds -> user: IS THAT Y/N'S PRIVATE USER???!!! I NEED TO BE ACCEPTER NOWWW this comment thread has been deleted

oscarpiastri has requested yourprivuser!

--

--

--

y/bffspodcast

liked by user, user, oscarpiastri & others

y/bffspodcast: surprise episode out now! take a listen for exclusive deets on logan's love life, his best friends, and the time he almost became a dad to a baby crocodile

tagged: logansargeant

user: i'm sorry, logan did WHAT NOW?

user: A CROCODILE?? -> user: well he does live in florida

user: it's a crime that y/n and oscar haven't met before. i need the irl best and the f1 bestie to get together and spill tea on logan -> oscarpiastri: well we might have to change that this weekend -> user: OSCAR??!! PLEASE DO IT! I BEG!

--

Y/BFFS PODCAST - TRANSMISSION timestamp: 4:40-8:23

y/bff: i mean, you've known y/n your whole life, right?

logan: my whole life, yup. like, i was maybe only a few hours old when i saw her for the first time. you already know this, but like we have the same birthday, december 31st 2000. and we're also born at the same time, in the same hospital, literally right across the hall from each other.

YB: same time? like seriously? how did i not know that?

LS: *laughs* i mean, same time. down to the minute, at least. it's why we call each other 'twin', we're born at the same time. and like our parent knew each other and joked that we might be born on the same day... little did they know

YB: *laughing* that's insane. oh my gosh, and you guys have just been best friends since then. i love that. i assume you're the one who's got all the younger high school stories about her. i got some college ones, but you have the real gold mine, don't you?

LS: i've got my fair share of our insane stories, yeah

YB: mind sharing one?

LS: i'm trying to think of one that's not absolutely insane... oh okay! so one time, we were in the pool, it was summer, and then y/n just stops trying to murder me with the pool noodle and goes still. i'm confused as hell, so i'm trying to see what she's doing but she tells me to shut up. she's watching the bushes around the pool, so i swim to the edge of the pool next to her, and the two of us are just watching the bushes. i have no idea what's going on, but y/n's waiting for something. and then, a baby croc starts walking out of it, and it's so small, but like it's mom was nowhere. we didn't know what to do. and y/n *laughs* y/n goes, "oh we have to adopt it". i'm like what? but she just start spiraling "oh we're his parents now. he just saw us. what if the mom died? i don't know how to feed a baby croc? but i have to learn, it's my baby croc now." finally she calms down, and we get everything sorted out, but she cried when we had to leave the baby crocodile. adopted it and all within three seconds of seeing it

YB: *laughing* i'm dead, oh my god that sounds like her though. that's so fucking funny, she made you a crocodile dad!

--

--

--

--

--

Y/N ADJUSTED HER SUNGLASSES, the Miami sun nearly blinding her as she walked towards the paddock. Next to her, her racer best friend, Logan Sargeant, nearly skipped along next to her. She could feel his excitement at being able to race so close to home again, and it honestly helped lift her own spirits.

Logan smiled and waved at some cameras and fans nearby, grinning brightly and taking the time to stop and sign some stuff. Once the fans had trickled away, Logan made his way back to his best friend, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked, turning his head away from the cameras so they couldn't read his lips.

"I'm great," she promised.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "We can say you were sick, or you weren't feeling well, or you just forgot, or-"

"-That I have diarrhea?" Y/N grinned a little. "You know, all of your solutions to this thing seem to involve me just running away or ignoring it."

"I mean, it's how you take on most of life," he shrugged.

"I've never felt more called out in life," she rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got a plan. I head over to the garage first, take a few pics, then say 'oh I have to go. I haven't even been to Williams' garage yet'. I've got this Logie, I promise. Besides, I don't even hate him. If I did, there would be a lot more violence threatened and swearing involved. I also would've blocked him."

Logan didn't look necessarily convinced, but he didn't argue either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, send me a 911 text. I'll be on standby the entire time, I swear."

Y/N smiled at the boy, waving goodbye as she dropped him off to the Williams garage.

"I know you'll be there," she smiled. "It's what we do. Be there for each other."

MEANWHILE, IN THE MCLAREN GARAGE, the Aussie driver was pacing back and forth, turning back to the entrance every few seconds.

"Yeah, great job at being subtle, Osc," Lando Norris, his teammate, commented sarcastically. "Who're you even waiting for?"

"Y/N," Oscar answered simply.

Normally, he'd engage in banter with his Brit teammate, but he was too nervous to give answers longer than a few words. He was finally going to see Y/N, in person. Not on the other side of a screen, not a flash of hair that ran away too quickly, not a caller ID he'd see on Logan's phone all too often. After all these years, he was finally going to be able to see her, face to face.

He had to admit, he did seem a little pathetic trying to contact her. But the DM he'd sent years ago on her public account had never gone through. And he'd left it, thinking maybe they weren't meant to know each other, simply to know of each other.

But then he'd seen her private instagram, with so few followers, he knew that she wouldn't be able to miss it. But maybe she didn't use it, or maybe it was an old account, but he had no luck on that account either.

He finally mustered the courage to ask Logan for her number and just reach out. He was surprised and a little shocked she said yeah, but he was in too deep now to change his mind.

"Oooh, who's Y/N?" Lando teased. "Is she a girlfriend?"

Oscar whipped his head towards his teammate, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Why are you a literal child?" he asked. "Y/N's a friend. Well, she's a friend of Logan's. His best friend. And everyone found out the two of us never met each other, and they went crazy saying we have to meet and whatnot. So I invited her here to take a few pictures."

Lando tilted his head, almost as if he was dissecting the truth behind Oscar's words.

"Logan? Logan Sargeant's best friend? Her name's Y/N?"

"Yes, Lando. And everyone says I'm his best friend in racing, so we have to meet or something."

"Alright, I believe you," Lando decided. "Call me when she gets here, I want to take pictures with her too."

"Sure," Oscar answered nonchalantly.

Turns out, there was no need to call him over, because a second after he'd said that, she walked in.

Oscar stared at her as she looked around the garage, her eyes drinking in just how different it was from the Williams' garage that she was used to.

Lando made a noise between a snort and a laugh, causing Oscar to glare at him.

"No, nothing," Lando nodded to himself, ignoring Oscar's silent question. He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting across the garage, "Y/N!"

Her head whipped over to the sound of her name, her posture relaxing the slightest bit as she realized it was only Lando and Oscar and not some random person. She didn't exactly know them, never even met them, but she knew enough of them to be a little comfortable.

She smiled slightly as she reached them, "Hey. How are you guys?"

Lando looked to Oscar, who simply stared at Y/N, before decided to take the reigns. "We're good, thanks for asking. I'm Lando, my friend here is Oscar, and I assume you already know that."

"Yeah, I watch enough F1 to know that," she smiled, falling into easy conversation with the Brit.

"Well it's nice to know you didn't take an invitation from a man who's name you didn't know," Lando joked. "That's what I call important information."

"I went a step further and made sure he was known by a friend of mine," Y/N continued the banter. "My best friend." She turned to acknowledge Oscar, "Logan spoke highly of you for a long time now. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he nodded. "I mean, Logan's spoke a lot about you too. All the time. He still does. It's nice to meet you too."

Oscar resisted the urge to close his eyes and curse himself out.

Y/N didn't seem to mind his stuttering and stumbling. In fact, her posture seemed to straighten out a bit, and her smile turned a little bit more warm.

She was beginning to realize that no matter how bad Logan had gotten it, Oscar was human too. He was new to this, and he probably had someone defending him the way she defended Logan. Maybe she was a little harsh on him. She just didn't like how it wasn't fair.

It was why she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to try and make things fair for people.

But in defending Logan with her entire heart and soul... she was being unfair to Oscar. She could try and be nice. It's only for a few minutes. After that, she could go back to avoiding him.

"So, how do you wanna do the pictures?" Y/N asked. "We should get them done now, I might have to leave early if my laptop doesn't work. I have a few assignments due."

"Right, yeah," Oscar nodded. "We can- uh-"

"The lighting's nice over there," Lando pointed out. "I'll take the picture of you guys."

"You don't wanna be in it?" Y/N asked.

"No, I'm alright," Lando smiled. "Unfortunately, I'm not best friends with Logan, unlike you two. Besides, I'm pretty good with a camera."

Y/N frowned at the reminder that Lando was one of the drivers who wasn't friends with Logan. She quickly fixed her expression, but Oscar noticed (only because he'd has his eyes on her ever since she entered). He was tempted to ask her about it, but she smiled and his brain froze up.

"Alright then, let's take the picture."

--

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: miami, you were fun 🤍

tagged: logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri

pinned youruser: to my haters: fuck you, i'm always proud of logan. no matter what. i chose him as my best friend and i'll choose him again every time. i'm just sad y'all have never loved someone so much to understand what it means to always be proud of them, no matter any outcome. he's my best friend, my brother, and the outcome of race isn't going to change that

pinned youruser: i heard there was a logan's besties meet up @/oscarpiastri -> oscarpiastri: oh yeah, did you end up making it? -> youruser: swipe to find out!

landonorris: same time next race 👀👀 -> youruser: wanna do my class for me?? -> landonorris: i will understand nothing. -> oscarpiastri: as if you understand anything ever -> landonorris: all grown up now, are you? -> oscarpiastri: shut up

mclaren: it was a pleasure having you stop by! next time, you should stay for longer! -> williamsracing: stop stealing her from us

williamsracing: loved having you around for the weekend!

alex_albon: wowwww, i didn't even make the cut this weekend -> youruser: all the pics i took of you were 0.5s -> alex_albon: thanks for showing some mercy

user: stop she looks so pretty

user: logan bestie meet up... but where's logan? -> user: getting attacked by a haas in his home race -> user: oof

user: TELL EM GIRL!

user: i want what she and logan have. like they'd DIE for each other

oscarpiastri: it was great to finally meet you! hopefully it's not the last time either -> user: boy please TRY to be subtle

--

--

PART TWO

notes: i hope y'all liked this, don't forget to like + reblog! alsoo... comment on this part (not any others) if you want to be tagged, i might not respond but i'll add you to the taglist if you comment.

but my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

[camomileapplesyrup]

today i got into a heated argument with two TRAs over the twoXchromosomes subreddit. i made a post about the woman-centric subreddit now being overrun with men & MRAs who harass women that share their traumatic experiences with men. from SA, to spousal abuse, women found a space where they felt safe discussing their experiences in life.

posts expressing feminist thought, traumatic experiences & general fear of men were met with downvote bombings & harassment.

men pretend to be underage girls pretending not to understand masturbation and acting they don't know how to wash "down there", asking for advice for sexual gratification of course.

men CONSTANTLY adding their two cents to posts that absolutely do not need it.

the subreddit is now uncomfortable & stifling, mods do absolutely nothing about it. so i made a lengthy post and so many women responded. over 500 comments of women responding positively, and thanking me for calling out an ongoing issue.

well, apparently i am transphobic and i am acting "sussy" with saying; “every time i come here and a woman makes a post with the most MINUSCULE feminist intent, or sharing her trauma, or difficulties in her personal experiences, it doesn't just get downvoted to oblivion, but filled up with comments of dudes adding their two cents, tone policing, making sexual & or fetish comments or "not all men"ing her. this is a woman centric community. two X chromosomes. we aren't going to make our tones softer, be gentler and tip-toe around our individual experiences to make YOU, a dude, comfortable.”

all it took was this for two TRAs to gang up on me & call me transphobic. saying this is why they don't trust cis feminists, and patronising me with expressions like "you must be so brave for calling yourself a radfem". they claimed that i cannot call myself a radical feminist because it's just bigoted towards trans women, despite me living in a 3rd world country where we don't even have working woman's shelters and proper laws against spousal abuse. "im sorry your life is hard as a woman living in a misogynistic country, but that is here nor there with regard to the terminology we're discussing" i'm sorry, what?

most of us aren't privileged enough to be libfems. i wish pink fucking girlboss they/she queen xenogender discourse was what my country could be doing, but life is not fair for everyone. if a woman here gets abused, stalked, or raped, she has nowhere to go. no phone number to call. no police to call. no prosecutor to trust in. and i went through this, personally.

by the end i had to block them, because they were derailing the conversation. but fuck, even when i literally do my best and try to be inclusive to everyone, i get spat in the fucking face.

[kokoch4n3l]

˗ˏˋ art deco ࿐ྂ "you're not mean, you're just born to be seen"

summary: kokonoi hajime unwillingly has front-row seats to sano "mikey" manjiro's descent into darkness and now he unknowingly watches the start of a new obsession with something a lot prettier that owns one too many mini skirts

pairing(s): kanto!mikey x f!reader

notes: told through koko's eyes and the beginning of yandere!mikey and pre-bonten. heart divider by cafekitsune

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of weapons, mentions of murder, implied mental health issues, slight bimbo!reader, suggestive themes, mentioned voyeurism, obsession, future yandere(?), not edited we die like my potential

word count: 1690

Sano “Mikey” Manjiro was no longer the man he used to be. Perhaps after killing a bunch of people, part of him had gone numb. Or maybe most of him. He doesn’t feel the same way anymore and it’s clear to everyone around him. His black Toman jacket had been long changed to white and he’s got an appointment with a tattoo artist soon. Kokonoi wonders when it will be his turn to get tattooed next. He wonders when the matching jackets will be changed to suits and their flimsy pipes and bats will be replaced with guns. Kokonoi isn’t sure if he’s looking forward to it or not. Many things have changed quickly and so has Mikey. 

Kokonoi Hajime accidentally got front-row seats to Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s plunge into darkness and it’s not something very fun to watch especially since nothing he does can get the latter out of it. It was almost like Mikey wanted to burn. Like he enjoyed it. Kokonoi Hajime glanced up from his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his tired eyes. The rain outside pelted the floor-to-ceiling windows, a rhythmic drumming that filled the otherwise silent penthouse. Mikey stood motionless, staring out into the storm as if it held answers to the questions he never voiced. Kokonoi had grown used to this silence, the heavy, unspoken tension that seemed to hang over them like a dark cloud. “Mikey— Oh hi Koko!”

Maybe the only thing stopping Mikey from fully going crazy was you and your damn mini-skirt. You twirl into the room with that infectious energy of yours, your sneakers tapping against the marble floor. The rain pattering against the windows is almost drowned out by your cheerful presence. You greet Kokonoi with a bright smile, your eyes sparkling with a naivety that seems out of place in the world of the Kanto Manji Gang— in Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s world. “Hi Koko!” you repeat, a playful lilt in your voice

Kokonoi can’t help but crack a small smile at your enthusiasm, the glitter in the inner corners of your eyes shining under the artificial light. You always manage to bring a bit of light into these dark times, even if you don’t fully understand the shadows lurking around you. Mikey, however, doesn’t move. His gaze remains fixed on the storm outside, his reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. Kokonoi watches him, the unease gnawing at him. Mikey's transformation from the once lively, mischievous leader of Tokyo Manji Gang to this silent, brooding figure of Kanto Manji Gang is unsettling. You flounce over to Mikey, your hips swaying with each step. You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek against his back. “Mikey, come on. You promised we’d watch a movie tonight” you whine, trying to coax him away from the window, glossy lips shifting into a pout

Mikey finally shifts, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your touch. He turns around, and for a moment, Kokonoi catches a glimpse of the old Mikey in the way his dark eyes soften when he looks at you. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” he says, his voice a low rumble.

Honestly speaking, in Kokonoi’s opinion, you were kind of a bimbo— in some sense that is. You were top of your class with the goal of getting into law school but here you were in a damn mini skirt, your bruised knees knocking against Sano Manjiro who is a literal fucking criminal. Maybe you have one of those weird fantasies of representing your criminal boyfriend in court. The problem with that though is you and Manjiro weren’t together. You were just a pretty distraction, someone who brought a flicker of life into Mikey’s darkened world, a role you played with such unknowing perfection that even Kokonoi found it admirable. The darkness that enveloped Mikey was thick, suffocating, but you… you seemed to be the only one who could penetrate it, if only slightly with your stupid mini skirt that hugged your hips and thighs so well. “Not feeling it?” You ask him innocently, the tips of your white sneakers knocking against his boots

Maybe you were a little stupid but other than academic smarts, you were emotionally smart too. You didn’t realize just who you were hanging around and what the penthouse you waltzed into was but you knew when Sano “Mikey” Manjiro wasn’t feeling well. Kokonoi admires that because he as well as the other top members of Kanto Manji Gang were yet to figure out Mikey’s emotions. “Not really” Mikey says, his fingers curl around your hip in an almost possessive manner, pulling you closer to him. 

Kokonoi watches the exchange, feeling a pang of jealousy mixed with something he can't quite place. Maybe it's envy at your ability to reach Mikey in a way he can't, or perhaps it's frustration at Mikey's apparent detachment from everyone else. Kokonoi watches you wrap your arms around Mikey’s neck. The contrast between Mikey’s brooding presence and your bubbly aura is almost comical, like a scene from a twisted romantic comedy. Kokonoi can’t help but shake his head at the irony of it all. “What’s wrong, Mikey?” you ask softly, your voice laced with genuine worry.

Mikey’s gaze softens as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Kokonoi watches the exchange, feeling a twinge of envy mixed with a hint of admiration. Despite everything, Mikey still had the ability to care for someone, even if it was in his own twisted way. You pout slightly, not satisfied with his vague answer. “But I do worry about you, Mikey. You know that,” you insist, your well-manicured fingers intertwining with his bruised fingers.

A small, almost invisible smile tugs at the corners of Mikey’s lips. “I know, babe. And I appreciate it” he says, sincerity ringing in his voice. 

He leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, a silent promise of reassurance. Kokonoi can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the intimacy between you and Mikey. It’s not that he harbours any romantic feelings for Mikey himself, but rather he envies the connection you two share, a connection that seems to elude him in this world of darkness and violence. As you pull away from the kiss, a bright smile graces your lips once more. Your lip gloss is now transferred onto Mikey’s lips and he doesn’t seem to mind as he licks up the artificial taste, his eyes never leaving yours as he does. It was weird though— You and Mikey weren’t dating but you still kissed and cuddled and did other things like normal couples did. Mikey called you sweetheart, babe, baby, doll, angel and any other sweet endearment his tainted mind could think of but you both weren’t dating. You both aren’t dating but Kokonoi knows the bruises on your knees are from when Mikey’s got you on the floor between his legs and the scratches on Mikey’s back are from you being pinned beneath him. “I’ve been a little stressed though. Come help me out?” Mikey says to you, thumb rubbing away some of the lipgloss that smeared onto your chin when he kissed you

Kokonoi can imagine it clearly— you down on your knees on the hardwood floor in front of Mikey, your pretty eyes wide and watery with drool running down your chin and mascara smudged; your stupid mini skirt hiked up around your hips as Mikey made you take it. “Hm, m’kay” You answer a little too innocently for what Mikey was suggesting at

As Mikey guides you to another room in the penthouse, he looks over his shoulder. “Koko, make sure no one disturbs us”

“Got it boss” He answers, trying to sound as apathetic as possible

The lock on the door clicks and Kokonoi is already scrambling to find his headphones. He’s been a victim of getting hard off listening to your breathy moans and helpless whimpers too many times already and he’s still got work to do. Kokonoi wasn’t a huge fan of being a voyeur like the rest of the sickos and perverts Mikey let into Kanto Manji Gang after all. He barely gets his headphones in when he hears a breathy groan come from the other side of the locked door. He tries to focus on his work, to lose himself in the lines of code scrolling across the screen, but his mind keeps drifting back to the scene unfolding behind the locked door. He can almost picture it—the way you kneel before Mikey, your eyes wide with anticipation, your lips parted in a silent plea. He can hear the soft rustle of fabric as Mikey guides you, his voice low and commanding. It’s a scene that plays out in his mind with disturbing clarity, one that he wishes he could erase but finds himself unable to look away from.

Kokonoi Hajime unwillingly has front-row seats to Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s descent into darkness. But it seems he’s watching an obsession grow as well. 

An obsession that owns too many mini skirts and with a smile as bright as the sun. 

Kokonoi wonders how long it will take for that obsession to grow into something unhealthy and something that starts to hurt you. But even as he wonders, a part of him knows that he’ll be there to witness it all. Because in this world of darkness and violence, there are few constants, and Kokonoi has unwittingly become one of them. So he continues to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he loses himself in the safety of his own little world, a world far removed from the chaos that surrounds him.

As the night wears on and the sounds from the other room grow louder, Kokonoi can’t help but feel a sense of resignation settle over him. Because in the end, he knows that you’re just as trapped as the rest of them, prisoners of their own making in a world where darkness reigns supreme.

[radiance1]

De-aged Mothboy Dannyo.

Except this time, he isn't in Jump City and Killer Moth is sadly not his kidnapper turned parent.

Instead, he's in Gotham.

He doesn't really do anything in the City of Crime. To everyone else, he's just a street kid who was unfortunate enough to be abandoned because of his meta status.

Danny's little home is literally a dumpster in an abandoned alleyway that he cleared out of all the trash. He has a mat that he uses as a makeshift bed, and a corner where he stores all his pretty little marbles he gets from dumpster diving, as well as an old backpack he found somewhere to hold all his other stuff.

He did use another Dumpster to expand his little home though, he doesn't know what he'll do with all the extra space really, but he'll find a use for it, probably.

The use was pulling in a bunch of other soft (enough) mats that he managed to find, filling the extra space with all of that, and then laying down on all of it in joy.

How did he make said Dumpster extra space? Simple, he just tore off one of the walls, and stuck them together with a drill and a few nails he managed to buy with his limited amount of money.

Danny... doesn't remember a whole lot. He remembers red, people in white, people who he thinks he knew laying so still. He doesn't try to remember any more than that, it usually hurts.

So, he's just one little kid trying to live his life in the City of Crime. He usually tries to stay away from any gang-controlled area, he couldn't do it all of the time, but he managed good enough. He meets some other street kids, and tries to make friends, but they aren't very receptive to his efforts.

So what does he do?

Bribery!

He has enough money to buy some snacks and stuff, and he does pay for it, no matter how cashier looks at him as if he were going to steal something, to be fair she does that to everyone but still! He's a law-abiding street kid!

Bribery worked very well! The first few times it wasn't anything too special, but after that, they decided that he was one of them now! They tell him stuff about the various gangs and stuff, which ones to avoid, and which area to not go towards because of one incident or another.

They also helped him that one time when he was chased by some really mean people who wanted to take him somewhere and apparently sell him? He didn't wanna hurt them, so he was trying to lose them and go back home, so that he could then get off those weird cuff thingies they put on his lower set of arms that made him feel a strange disconnect for some reason.

So he was running, didn't expect for one of them to have a gun, tried to evade the bullets, one hit him in the leg, then another in his other one, and he hit the pavement. Then they caught up and put some cloth to his face and he started to feel loopy and really tired.

Before he fell unconscious, he heard a loud smack. Then he was woke up to his friends, those weird cuffs gone, his legs having been bandaged and a really nice bed.

So he thanked his friends, and went back home. He gave them each their favorite snacks for their help!

About a month after that, he meets this really kind old guy that he helps carry stuff to his car, he took most of it, puffing out his chest and saying he's got this because he's really, really strong. Then the old guy invited him to come with him for a thank you dinner.

His friends told him not to accept any suspicious offers from strangers, but he helped the guy and he just wants to say thank you. Plus, food.

So he says yes.

He didn't know the old guy- no Alfred, had a giant mansion! His jaw-dropped, awestruck face practically showed what he felt. He then looked at himself, back at the mansion, and almost didn't wanna step in because he's afraid he might dirty it, before being gently pushed inside by Alfred.

[eetherealgoddess]

i’ve been getting some requests on wattpad so i thought i should finally write one of them <3

reader operates as both a cop and detective btw

ꨄEdge Of The Lawꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You’re a detective who has spent years trying to take down Bonten❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Edge Of The Law

It had been years since you hopped on the case regarding the infamous criminal organization Bonten. Having put in an exceeding amount of work in tracking their illegal endeavors as well as the individuals who cause the gang activities to soar. So far the only information you have been able to obtain was that you have a few traitor cops in your vicinity, one who very well may be the chief.

Unfortunately, the only proof you’ve received was during a personal outing of your own. You sat on a stool in the dimmed bar, a low melody playing in the background from the speakers connected to the ceiling. Only a few people were scattered around the room, sitting in their own booths or a couple stools down from you, sipping on their drinks as they talked amongst themselves. Your bartender had just finished your drink, sliding it over as you immediately downed the beverage.

“Damn, tough day?” The woman chuckled, continuing to make the other customers’ drinks as she conversed with you.

“You could say that.” You motion for another as you remember the frustrating discovery of all the paperwork you had on the case completely missing, nowhere to be found. You could only determine that it was an inside man’s job, a dirty cop who knew exactly where to find the confidential information.

After downing four shots while conversing with the bartender, you walk towards the bathroom. After releasing your fluid and washing your hands, you stepped out of the bathroom, perking up when you noticed a familiar individual who just exited the male’s bathroom. Although he wore casual clothing, you could tell he was your chief, having worked under the guy for years.

You follow him from afar, dropping some cash on the bar table as you make your way outside. You stood at the corner of the building, staring ahead as you peaked around the wall into the alleyway. You crouch as you make a run for the dumpster, basically prancing on your tiptoes so he wouldn’t catch you there. You kneel on the dirty ground, peaking out to watch him.

The chief stood in front of a tall man wearing a suit. You couldn’t hear anything but slight chatter, both parties standing too far for you to hear the conversation so you took a moment to view the suspect in front of your boss. One of his hands moved to swipe through his hair, fingers entangling with short purple strands. His purple irises gaze ahead lazily as his expression remains blank. What stood out to you the most was that symbol on his neck, prominent and black.

“That symbol…” You murmured to yourself before taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a few pictures of the two men, one a close up of the broad male.

You sat at the desk in your room, searching through your drawers and folders of different forms and pictures you had kept. You weren’t allowed to have some of the papers in your personal home, though there were key points in some of the cases you were assigned that stuck out to you, resulting in off duty research.

Grabbing a familiar folder labeled, ‘Mark of the Prey,’ a dramatic name you so boringly created for the information inside. You snatch it open, searching through until you make an abrupt halt. Pulling the page out, you placed it next to your phone that displayed a close up of the man who spoke to the chief.

“Knew it.” You huff as you compare the symbol of Bonten to the tattoo embedded on the guy’s neck. Although this discovery confirms your suspicion, you have no clue why your chief would be in cahoots with the organization other than the fact that he’s working with them. Unfortunately, you don’t have enough proof.

The following days, you had decided to figure out a way to look through your boss’s office for any clues regarding his partnership. The first thing you want to come across if nothing else is your original paperwork that you kept hidden in a specific drawer. The only person who would’ve known the correct placement was your boss. You knew you had to wait for the perfect opportunity so you patiently waited for the right moment to sneak into his office.

It was hard, but you finally found the perfect time during a lunch break to search. You had no idea when he’d be back so you quickly searched through file after file. You were careful to place everything back in place to not raise suspicion. You sigh in frustration when you’re not finding the target, standing up from your place only to make eye contact with your chief.

He stepped in slowly, shutting the door behind him as he made his way closer to his desk. Still keeping his distance you both stare at one another in silence. Considering you’ve been caught, you decide not to waste any time.

“You’re working for Bonten, aren’t you?”

The middle aged man continued to stare at you before placing his hands in his pockets.

“There was a reason I dropped you from the case, Y/n.” You recall the utter pit in your stomach the moment you were dropped from the case, having spent a lot of time and effort finding all the evidence you could.

“Where is the paperwork?” You give him a stern glare. He sighed before shaking his head.

“You never stop, do ya? You wanna die or something?” He growled, a look of irritation crossing on his face, “I spared your life by dropping you, otherwise you’d be next on their list.”

“Do you realize what you’ve just done? Do you understand the gravity of what you’re doing? Partnering with the enemy? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Your palms slam on the desk as you lean slightly forward, anger and a sense of betrayal overcoming you.

“You have no right to question my decisions! I do what I have to do to survive. You should be thanking me!” He roared, stepping forward. “They’ve had their eyes on you ever since you started that case! They know what you look like, where you live, where you come from, and more!”

An abrupt siren echoed throughout the building, indicating a warning. The same sound you were taught when there’s been an ambush. Shocked, you immediately snatch the gun from your holster, as did your chief right before you both stretched your arms out to aim the weapons toward each other.

“Saved my life to take it right?” You yell over the alarm, standing at attention.

“This isn’t how I wanted this shit to go! You just couldn’t stop shoving your nose where it didn’t belong!”

“You assigned me to the case! What else was I supposed to do other than my job? You make no sense!”

“I didn’t expect you to find some of the things you did! For what it’s worth, you were my favorite officer!”

Just as he cocked the gun, you gasp when a figure appears from behind him. The sound of a shot rang out, the bullet penetrating your boss in the head, a hole formed as blood splattered on the floor and his uniform. The chief falls to the ground, landing on his body. You move to aim at the culprit, pulling the trigger multiple times as he dodges the bullets.

The sound of glass shattered behind you as another person kicked through the window. You turn to the side to keep both people within your vision, backing up until your back is barely touching the wall. Your gun is aimed at the man with two blonde strands hanging over his face, the rest of his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, revealing the tiger tattoo embedded into the skin of his neck. His left hand holds a gun aimed towards you, arm stretched out as a smile grows on his face.

The man who killed your boss stood next to him, his right arm held out as the barrel of the weapon was in your view. His bangs fell over the purple eyes that held a sense of familiarity, strands of hair falling into a mullet. Your eyes widened when you saw the tattoo on his neck, the same symbol you had seen on the man before who looks slightly similar to the person in front of you. He wears a bored expression.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Kazutora dodged the bullet coming his way by moving his head to the side, the metal only grazing his cheek. A small line of blood slides down from the small scratch.

“Who put you in charge, huh?” Before you can shoot him again, another shot rings out followed by a sharp pain shooting through your thigh.

“Fuck!” You hissed before looking down to where the blood seeps through your uniform as you place your trembling hand above the wound.

“You have shit aim.” Rin says to you before aiming at your shin resulting in you shifting out of the way before the bullet can land.

Another shot rang out as Kazutora pulled the trigger, missing as you rushed behind the desk, landing on your bottom. You set the gun down before pulling off your uniform jacket and pull the fabric with your teeth, tearing the sleeve. You wrapped it around your thigh quickly before snatching the gun.

You knew this wouldn’t end well for you. All you could do was survive the best you could. Before you could turn to shoot, a foot kicked the gun out of your hand before two hands grabbed the shoulders of your shirt, yanking you up. Suddenly a fist connects with your face before your vision is engulfed with darkness.

“The surveillance has been disposed of.”

Your eyelids flutter open as you come back to consciousness. The pain on your neck is prominent from your head hanging over while you were knocked out. A soreness appears on your check as you remember the fist impacting your face, knowing a bruise will probably form. You eye your thigh with a hazy vision, the blur of the blood that seeped through the fabric wrapped around your thigh, the throbbing pain still prominent. You accidentally release a groan as you pull at the cuffs, your arms secured behind the chair’s back uncomfortably.

“Good.”

You lift your head slowly, eyeing the figures that stood at a distance from you.

“You’ve been such a pain.” You hear from the shortest man standing in the middle. His onyx orbs bore into you intensely, despite the lack of expression. His platinum hair shapes the structure of his face.

“Sanzu.”

The pink haired man lifts an arm as he aims the gun towards you, cocking the weapon before pulling the trigger. The shot rang throughout the building just as the bullet penetrated your shin on the opposite leg of the wound on your thigh.

“Shit!” You spit out, breathing slowly as you attempt to tune the pain out, failing as the agony grows by the second. Your hands are in fists as your nails leave indents on your palms.

The blue eyed man’s scars stretched as the grin on his face grew. Excitement is apparent in his expression, the sound of your ragged breathing a beautiful melody to his ears.

“You will work for me in place of your boss.”

“Fuck you.” You growl as you feel your blood fall down your leg.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time. You are my secret weapon. Your skills give you an advantage that will be to my use.” You scoff.

“I’m not doing shit!” You exclaim.

“S/n and B/n. They are your siblings right?” Mikey questioned, hands behind his back. Your eyes widened as you glared at him.

“M/n, D/n, and F/n.” He takes a few steps towards you, revealing the darkness under his eyes.

He continued to name off colleagues, friends, family members, and even the bartender you’ve become close to. You gasp when he begins to list off the addresses in which your family members reside.

“That’s enough!” You hissed.

“Show some respect in the presence of the King, Rat.” Sanzu growled before aiming his gun towards you. Mikey holds up a palm, the executive obeying his command.

“You will do as I say.” He said before turning around and heading to the exit, all of the men following behind. You’re left in darkness once the door to the warehouse shuts.

Days pass while you rot in the warehouse, blood already dried from the wounds that may or may not get infected. The pain, although prominent, has slightly numbed. Your whole body is sore. You had thought everything through, deciding that you have no choice in the matter but to go against your morals. You had to protect your family. You only just now understand why your chief did what he did.

After your placement in Bonten was secured, once you received medical attention by their personal doctors, you were sent back to your detective job as an undercover criminal. Before you know it, months pass as you become used to your routine, something you didn’t want to happen. Of course, there was no enjoyment in feeling dirty or like a coward. Everytime your shift at the department closed, you would return to headquarters where you were forced to reside considering their lack of trust for you. You would inform your boss of anything he needed to know or an update on any assignment you were commanded to complete.

There were moments when you thought of different escape plans or to set them up, but one of the executives always had an eye on you. You knew you were being watched every moment you were at work or even around headquarters. It had you on edge and walking on eggshells. You truly felt helpless but you didn’t stop trying to think of something.

You’ve never been the type to be a seductress. Sure you’ve worn sexy clothes a couple of times and had a fair share of dates before you started working as a cop, but you’ve never actively seduced anyone before. Considering your predicament and no better idea, you decide to work on your skills. You visited the Haitani Brother’s strip clubs more often since a few of the men would go on outings and those were the only times you were allowed somewhere other than the department.

You observed the behavior of the strippers and waitresses. You even studied the bartenders and the customers. You watched the interactions carefully. You knew that if you played your cards right, you could gain a little more trust. Enough trust to help them slip up and for you to make an escape and notify witness protection before they can go after your family. You will gain as much evidence as you possibly can to ruin them once and for all.

Weeks pass and you’re seated on a chair in the VIP section of one of the brother’s nightclubs. The thick smell of marijuana, tobacco, and alcohol fills the air. You eye the first victim who sits on the sofa with a blunt in hand, black and blonde hair falling past his shoulders as he leans back in his seat. He blows the smoke out slowly with a dazed look, the woman who was sitting on his lap hopping up after he pats her thigh, telling her to grab him a drink. You take a deep breath, eyeing the other men to see the rest of them distracted, whether they’re entertaining a woman, gambling, or sniffing cocaine.

You exhale before making your way to Kazutora, sitting next to him, though not too close. Your hands begin to tremble as you stare ahead, second guessing your plan as you’re ready to run off. Before you could leave, a hand guides your chin, forcing you to look into the golden orbs that shine through the dark light beams.

“What’s on your mind, Doll?” He questions before releasing your chin and handing you the blunt. Before you became a police officer, you would smoke weed in your youth. Having not had it in a long time, you shake your head.

“T’s not a request. Smoke it.” He says with a heavy lidded gaze and a sly smile. You huff before taking it from his fingers, the wood placed between your index and middle finger as you place the end to your lips.

You immediately cough after sucking in a little more than you could handle, no longer having the lungs for this kind of thing. He laughed as your vision blurred from the tears, a burning sensation filling your throat as you handed it back to him.

Once you are done, you realize that you are higher than you expected to be.

“Oh shit.” You whisper as you stare into space.

“Here, let me help you.” You heard from beside you. Fingers grab your chin once more, turning you towards the man who takes a long hit of the blunt before turning to you and leaning in very close.

“Open your mouth.” You comply as he leaned in closer, the tips of your lips barely grazing the other as he slowly released the cloud into your mouth, his gaze still on you. After breathing in, the weight of your body felt heavier as you became in a more relaxed state. You leaned back against the sofa as you gazed into the room with your own heavy lidded gaze. The plan you had escaped your mind as you zoned into the colorful flashing lights.

“Someone’s in another world.” Ran said as he sat next to you on the other side. His leg pressed firmly against yours as he placed a hand on your healed thigh. You could smell his cologne as well as the tobacco lingering faintly. It was a nice fresh yet earthy scent.

“You smell good.” You say, not bothering to be shocked that your thoughts escaped your lips without any control, something that used to happen all the time when you got high.

“Thanks, sweet girl.” His smile grows as he observes your flushed face, gazing into your features before chuckling and grabbing the glass cup from the table.

You had no clue why you said that. You’ve never been anything but professional around these men. The hand gripping your thigh caused you to look down.

“Hey, what about me?” Kazutora gives a fake look of offense before handing Ran the blunt, causing you to snicker.

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Now you are.” He says before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling you to his chest. Your nose was nuzzled in between his shoulder and neck, the smell of marijuana thick along with the faint smell of cologne.

He hummed before circling both arms around your waist and pulling you closer, your leg forced on the other side of him as he yanked you on top of him, your hands landing on his shoulders. You gasp in surprise, the bulge prominent against your core as your pencil skirt rises slightly.

“Oh?” Ran says before taking a hit as his eyes drop to your skirt.

“I like this position better.” Kazutora smirks as he gazes into your eyes. “Isn’t this what you wanted anyway, Y/n?” You couldn’t focus on anything but what’s pressed against your pussy, your face heating up as your nerves begin to strike. The memories of your plans begin to fly across your brain though you only just now realized how terrible a seduction plan would be. You must’ve forgotten you were dealing with some of the most feral men.

“Let me go.” You say as his grip only tightens causing you to wince in pain.

“You wanted to seduce us right?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “You thought no one would notice your wandering eyes or suspicious behavior?”

“You really are so easy to figure out. It was noticeable when you first changed your clothing.” Ran says with his leg crossed and back leaned against the sofa, bringing the blunt to his lips once more.

“I have to admit, it worked.” Kazutora says while raising his hips, his erection rubbing against your panties as his hands moved to your ass. You gasp when you feel one of his hands pull your skirt all the way up to your waist, revealing your underwear.

“Feel that? You have me all worked up.” A smack on your ass caused you to flinch. “It’s all your fault.”

“Damn.” He whispered as he looked down at your covered pussy sitting on his bulge, hands rubbing up your sides before he shoves his fingers into the crevices where your stomach and thighs meet. You try to pick yourself up, only to feel something against the back of your head.

“I wanna play too.” Sanzu says behind you, gun pressed firmly against your head as you feel his hand rub along your butt cheek, gripping it before smacking the skin.

“Let me go right now.” You grit your teeth, nails piercing Kazutora’s shoulder as you tremble slightly. This isn’t what you had in mind when you planned to seduce them. Not only was it meant to be an individual thing, you weren’t expecting it to go as far as anything too physically intimate. How stupid you were.

“You should relax, yeah?” Rin says as he walks into view behind the sofa, leaning on the back of the surface with his hands as he gazes at you. He hands Sanzu the cuffs, the pink haired man pulling your arms behind your back and securing you in place. Kazutora kept his eyes on you the entire time, even when you looked away.

You felt Sanzu’s hand slide under your ass, rubbing along your panties as he glides against the slit of your vagina through the fabric, not a care for Kazutora’s bulge being in vicinity.

Tears threaten to spill as you angrily look at Kazutora, who brings a hand behind your neck before pulling you closer to his face, pressing his tongue to your neck as he rubs it along the skin. Rin leans over with a hand on your chin.

“If you bite me, I’ll bite harder.” He warned you before pulling you into a kiss. Kazutora moves from your neck before focusing on your breasts through your blouse. You gasp against Rin’s lips though he took the opportunity to pierce his tongue through your lips. He quietly moaned as he moved his free hand to the side of your face, fingers tickling your ear.

“You’re so wet, filthy girl.” Sanzu said quietly before using a finger to scoop some of the juice before bringing it to his lips, sucking the moisture off his finger before returning his hand to your pussy. He used one hand to move the panties out of the way and replace his hand, using a finger to ease into your vagina. He put the gun back in his holster as he distracted himself with the feeling of your vaginal walls sucking his finger in.

Rin released you, only for Ran to wrap a hand around your head and pull you in for a passionate kiss. You wince as he bites your lip, pulling on it as he pulls back before releasing, only to reconnect your lips together. Sanzu shoves two more fingers in as he stretches you out, causing a muffled yelp to leave your mouth.

Rin unbuckled his pants before reaching into his underwear to pull out his pulsating cock. Ran’s lips muffled the moans that escaped as Sanzu thrust his fingers deep into you at a steady pace. He cursed as he felt your hole tightening around his limbs. Kazutora unbuttoned your blouse to release your breasts that are covered by the bra. Not wasting any time, he reached into his pocket for the pocket knife, using it to slice your straps as well as the middle lining that keeps the pads connected. He pulled the remainder of the bra off and tossed it to the side.

His fingers grabbed your molds as he used his thumbs to fiddle with both nipples. You shut your eyes tight as he kept up the motion with one breast and leaned over to connect his tongue with the other. Ran releases you as he begins to unbuckle his own pants, just as Rin placed his palm on the top of your head before placing his cock near your mouth.

“Open up, pretty girl. I better not feel any teeth.” You turn your head away.

“N-No! Let me go, all of you!”

“Wonder how your family would feel to know that you’re getting fingered by one of their murderers right before I shoot their brains out.” Sanzu says softly against your ear, dazed by his own arousal. You frown as you clench your teeth from Kazutora’s tongue flicking your nipple, as well as Sanzu accelerating his pace.

“Come on, Y/n.” Rin says as he guides your head, you had no choice but to open your mouth. He exhaled as he eased the tip of his cock between your lips, warmth engulfing him as he gained a better grip on your head to pull you forward until the base of his erection was against your nose.

You shut your eyes as he held you there, forcing you to gag on his cock. A mixture of drool and precum slides down your chin as you breathe through your nose to the best of your ability. Sanzu removes his fingers before moving your panties out the way of your behind. Your eyes shoot open when you feel a wet pressure push into your asshole. He used two fingers, the residue slick making an easier access though the tightness stretched painfully.

You whimper against Rin’s base before he pulls you back, only to force you to swallow his erection once more. His cock slides in and out of your mouth at a steady pace, each thrust resulting in the head sinking down your throat. More saliva piles up as well as his semen, leaking as your head is guided.

“You’re a natural.” He moaned, thrusting his hips harder against your mouth as Kazutora slid a hand down to your pussy, feeling for your clit before rubbing along circles with a finger.

Ran rubs his own cock as he eyes your mouth taking his brother, focusing on the bulge that appears on your cheek as he can see the indent of Rin’s cock. He watched as the juices leaked from your mouth, listening to the whimpers and grunts that left your throat.

Kazutora removes his hand before grabbing his own hard cock from his pants. It flapped on your stomach before he guided you to lift up enough for the head to connect with your entrance. He used a hand to rub the tip against your wet pussy, moaning at the warmth.

“Sit.” He demands, using a hand to place on your hip as well as his other hand wrapped around his shaft to aim it correctly. He gazed at your full mouth, finding the mess beautiful on your face.

“Fuck…” He hissed as you lowered onto him, warm walls already sucking him in. “…this is exactly where you belong. Sitting pretty on my cock.” His hips thrust into you as your pussy engulf him fully. The tears streamed from your face as Rin neared his orgasm. Kazutora’s arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you tightly against him, just as Sanzu added a third finger to your ass, ripping a ragged moan out of you.

Rin’s head falls back as he releases a moan, warm liquid shooting down your throat as he holds you in place, forcing you to swallow all of his seed. Once he pulls his cock out of your mouth, you cry out as Sanzu accelerates his speed, just as Kazutora begins thrusting into you. His cock slides as his feet push against the floor, legs spread as he begins to pound into you. Your juices slicken him up, allowing him better access as the tip of his cock immediately hits your g-spot.

Just as your head was about to fall on his shoulder, a hand holds you in place as another erection slides into your sore mouth.

“Look at me.” Ran commands, you obey as your eyes tearfully move towards the intense gaze he holds. You could hear Kazutora moaning as Rin sat on the sofa, rubbing his cock while he watched you getting plowed from three ends. Ran thrusts his hips as his cock slides in and out of your mouth, groaning as he keeps his gaze on you.

“M’ gonna cum so deep in this pussy.” Kazutora moaned, pounding into you as he forced your hips to meet his thrusts. His lips are apart as he gazes at you taking Ran’s cock down your throat, just as Sanzu used one hand to grab your neck. Your pussy clenched as the stimulation on your cervix caused you to orgasm, bucking your hips as you groaned loudly on Ran’s cock.

“That’s right, baby. Good fucking girl.” Ran praised you for your orgasm, your face heated more than it already was as a funny feeling formed in your stomach. Sanzu removed his fingers right as Ran cums deep into your throat, holding you in place as his brother did. Kazutora continues to thrust into you, forcing you to ride him even while you’re overstimulated. Your head was only able to drop on Kazutora’s shoulder for a second before Sanzu replaced Ran and forced your head up.

“You’re not done, yet.” He smirked before shoving his cock down your sore throat. Your jaw felt sore as it was stretched once more. You whine on his cock at the pain as well as the overwhelming feeling in your abdomen. He begins at a faster pace than the Haitani brothers not allowing you to adjust before he’s fucking your face.

Kazutora continues to hump into you, his head falling back as he groans, releasing into you as deep as he could possibly go. He pressed firmly against you to make sure his semen fills you all the way up. Sanzu’s thrusts become sloppier as he moans, releasing a curse before he bucks his hips slowly, pressing his cock all the way to the back of your throat. He forced you to swallow his cum as he stared down at you.

For the rest of the night you were rotated between each man so they could have a turn with your pussy, all the while causing you to faint a couple of times as your body was completely used for their pleasure. You were out for a couple of days before the dreadful routine of you becoming their cum slut began. They were brutal, more brutal than the first night as they twisted you every which way. Sometimes Sanzu would use you as an experiment by drugging you up with different products you never thought you’d try, praying to not be drug tested any time soon at your job though you knew Bonten would find a way to handle the problem.

In the midst of those days, you had forgotten who you were before. The darkness shaped under your eyes, you lack an appetite, and your poor body is worn out. Everyday felt dark, cold, and empty. You were lying in your designated bedroom, staring at the ceiling until the door unlocked and someone walked in. You shut your eyes as the person got closer, hovering above you before they leaned over, warm breath on your ear.

“Did they break you, yet?” You recognized the whisper to be Mikey’s voice. Your eyes teared up as they streamed down your face, turning away in a fetal position as your boss climbed into the bed with you. His arm snaked around your waist as his face nuzzled on the back of your neck.

“Now you know how it feels.” His lips graze your skin as he speaks. “To feel and be nothing.”

“You are my broken doll to play with.”

One day, you had enough. You were going to leave if it’s the last thing you do. Even if it results in your death, you don’t care. You were done with this. One day you had snuck a bag of sleeping pills Sanzu kept in a specific area in his office. This night was perfect because they’re supposed to meet up for a deal beforehand so Mikey will be there as well. When you arrive at the club, instead of heading to the bathroom like you said, you head to the bar.

After telling the bartender who you’re with, he hands you the bottle with the tray of glasses. He didn’t seem to mind that you hadn’t been a waitress which is perfect. You look around your surroundings before placing the pills in the bottle. You leave everything on the table for the actual employee to take it up so they won’t get suspicious of your excuse for the bathroom.

Once you make it back, you sit on Mikey’s lap like he commanded you to. Your nerves were struck as you watched the woman enter. Excitement prominent as you watch her pour the bottle before handing each man their cup, including Mikey. You watch as all the men take their shots, downing them quickly as they continue their play. You peek down at Mikey’s hand, seeing that he hasn’t taken a sip which made you nervous.

Just as the men started dropping on the sofas or chairs, your hands trembled as Mikey’s arms tightened around your waist, drink still in hand.

“When they wake up, I’m going to let them do whatever they want to you.” Tears appear at the corner of your eyes as the familiar lump forms in your throat.

“I’m going to allow whatever I didn't accept before…” His head dropped to your shoulder as he continued, “…you can drink the alcohol so you can rest beforehand, or you can save it so you’ll be asleep while they tear you apart.”

You stare ahead with a troubled gaze. The trembling became violent as you felt the urge to jump away, ready to run for your life. You subconsciously eye the bruises and cuts along your skin as you bite your lip to quiet the sobs.

“No matter how many times they break you apart, I’ll always be there to put you back together because you belong to me.”

[hyper-fixates]

low honour!arthur morgan x virgin!reader

this is really just one long-winded fic idea that i need to speak into existence.

tags: literally save a horse ride a cowboy, afab!reader (feminine pronouns, descriptions, and names used), religious topics/imagery, obsessive!arthur, virginity kink, age gap relationship, loss of virginity, corruption kink

Reader is in her early 20s, privileged to come from a family with wealth from their heritage and inheritance in the oil industry.

The era of cowboys and outlaws has started to become a thing of the past from the shifts in climate and industry throughout the country. Reader has resided in Saint Denis her whole life, never needing to worry about gangs, outlaws, or even cowboys.

She has never even seen a cowboy before, but she’s heard stories; none of them particularly pretty. The presence of law enforcement throughout the streets and the sheer distance of Saint Denis from other towns is enough to deter most of them from causing trouble.

Functionally, she should never be compatible with a cowboy.

Her father has always preached about her waiting for a “good, proper man” that can marry her into another family with obscene wealth. And so, she protects her chastity and innocence just as she is expected to—just as her father expects her to.

Hell, she doesn’t even know how to ride a horse! Her father believes that riding horses is beneath them, so anywhere she wants to go is accommodated by a stagecoach.

Cut to: reader is accompanying her father on a trip to Annesburg to discuss potential investments in the mining industry. He hates leaving her alone. She knows he worries that she’ll get “up to no good”.

Her father has chosen one of their more comfortable, flashy stagecoaches for the longer ride, giving him more storage for his financial documents and whatnot. A perfect target for gangs.

And, inevitably, they get robbed.

The robbers’ faces are all concealed by hats and bandanas, and one of them ties her arms behind her back with careful hands before guiding her to her knees on the wet grass.

The man who tied her up stays close by her side, and she can see her father pleading for his life to another man who’s not listening.

“Are you a cowboy?” Are the first words she says to him, not a note of fear in her doll-like eyes that make her look so fuckable in this position with her on her knees next to him, dress billowing out around her form.

He looks down at her confused. “Uh, once, I suppose.” His voice is a little muffled by the black bandana hanging over his nose and mouth.

She can see that his hair is so long that it starts to curl up and out at the ends under his hat.

“Well, you got the hat. And the horse,” she reasons, wondering if she’s truly meeting a cowboy under circumstances she thought she’d never be in.

He looks to her again, left hand causally hooked in the leather of his belt as he waits for the rest of his gang to finish up. “I guess you’re right.” He tips his head to her in agreement.

“Leave them! These people are leeches. Let the wolves decide their fate.” A man with a deep, booming voice announces atop his white horse.

Now she starts to panic.

She pulls against the rope around her wrists, looking up to the man who tied her as he begins to walk toward his horse. “Wait! Mister, please! Please don’t. Please,” she yells to him.

He looks back to her, then his horse, then back to her again. “Hold on.” He signals to the man on the white horse before walking back over to her.

“Take me home. Please just take me home, mister. I won’t say nothing, I promise, but just take me home and I’ll give you anything you want,” she begs to him.

He sighs, but not out of annoyance or hesitation for her request. He sighs because he has no idea what she has just done to herself.

He places his bandana over her eyes and leads her to his horse. He unties her hands and lets her blindly climb into the saddle, legs shaking from unfamiliarity.

When she settles, she blindly grips onto the saddle horn for dear life, wishing her father let her ride at least once in her life so she wouldn’t appear so delicate in this situation. The man chuckles off to the side before mounting up behind her. She notices the saddle is not quite meant for two as he pushes in tightly against her ass, seemingly not even concerned about it.

This is probably the closest she’s ever been to a man.

“Where to, miss?” The man leans forward against her back to grab the reigns, caging her in with his arms.

She tells him in a quiet voice, and he kicks against his horse, setting them into motion.

When they arrive at her French two-story home on the outskirts of Saint Denis, the man dismounts swiftly, hand circling her wrist before saying, “Swing your right leg over and I’ll help you down.”

She slowly brings herself around, feeling the man lock his hands around her waist to guide her to the ground.

He tugs at the knot holding the bandana around her eyes, and she doesn’t let herself turn around until she feels he’s had enough time to tie it back around his face.

“Thank you, mister,” she whispers.

He tips his hat and leaves without another word.

In the following week, the man watches her after the sun sets. He watches her pray before bed and change into her silk nightgown, waiting for the night he can maybe finally see the more explicit side of her. But it never comes.

She’s perfect.

Eventually they cross paths again one day. The man purposefully chooses to ditch the bandana, too.

“I don’t think my daddy would appreciate me talking to someone like you,” she admits slyly as she continues her trek into Saint Denis.

The man follows beside her on his horse, left arm lazily hanging down by his side. “Someone like me? And who’s that?” he asks, a slight smile also on his lips.

“A cowboy. An outlaw,” she says, sneaking a glance up to him as his horse steps in time with her down the path.

“Well your daddy ain’t here.”

“No, mister.”

“Come for a ride then.”

And that’s how it’s starts for them. He introduces himself as they ride to his gangs camp, and she complains about how sore her legs are when they arrive.

“You don’t ride?” Arthur asks, intending for it to be a joke.

“That was my second time. Ever,” she laughs.

And that’s when he understands what type of lady he’s dealing with, so he goes for it.

“Maybe you should practice on me sometime,” he remarks, untacking his horse.

She wonders if she heard him right. “Uh, mister—”

“Arthur,” he corrects.

In that moment, she realizes he can teach her everything her father has kept from her, show her everything he had protected her from. Throw away the innocence and chastity and truly experience what life should be. But Arthur doesn’t know the entirety of her sheltered life. She needs someone like him.

“Arthur…I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” she admits. “I…I’ve never been with no one. Ever.”

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Just as my daddy said I should be. Until marriage.”

And Arthur makes it his mission to make her experience her own sexuality in its completeness, so he starts off slow.

He would always touch, never breaching her or letting her do anything to him. The focus was always on her.

Her virginity and pureness made him conflicted: he wanted to ruin her in all the ways she has never been, but he wants to tease and rile her up and watch her experience all the sexual frustrations for the first time.

It was cute. The more bold he got with his touches, the more bold she got in trying to take what she wanted. He would take her behind a tree and slowly lift up the dainty material of her summer dress, gathering it in his left hand as he used his right to rub her clit through her underwear while he licked and sucked along her neck, careful not to leave marks.

She would get weak so fast, Arthur could barely handle how virgin her body truly was. She would grip onto the leather straps of the rifles hanging down his back, trying to force his hand harder and faster.

However, the first time he made her cum was an accident.

He confidently placed a gentle kiss on her lips while they were alone in his tent—he just wanted to see how she would react.

She leaned in and returned it, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him down to her. He pulled her into his lap, laying them down on his cot as they started making out like a long-distance high-school couple.

Arthur mindlessly starts grinding against her, ignoring the clothing separating them. She doesn’t realize what she’s feeling as Arthur’s hard cock slides against her clothed pussy.

Her orgasm just kind of happens.

Arthur watches her shake and twitch under him as he pulls away to see what happened. The wet spot on her underwear is all the evidence he needs.

Ever since, she’s been insatiable. She wants Arthur to show her everything. Teach her everything. She wants to feel everything if that means she can cum like that again.

Around the campfire she’d sit on his lap, tightly circling her hips against him until he’d grow hard before stopping. Then she’d do it again.

Arthur would mostly ignore her teasing. He didn’t want her to know how much she was driving him up the wall, so he’d retaliate in a way that was ten times worse then whatever she did just to prove a point about her innocence, how she knows so little compared to him.

The first time they fuck, he makes the horse riding joke again: “I’m sure this’ll be good practice for you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a laugh, rubbing his cock through her folds as she straddles him. He’s built up her confidence so much, it’s all been leading to this.

He’d guide her up and down, back and forth, testing her body to see what she likes. Seeing what spot makes her tremble.

He finds it. “Fuck, there it is,” Arthur groans.

She can’t even think. She doesn’t know what to think. She’s doing everything her father told her not to.

Premarital sex.

Premarital sex with a cowboy.

“Oh, Lord, forgive me,” she prays, her pussy sliding so perfectly along him as he grips her hips harder.

Eventually, he’d eat her out in her childhood bedroom. Her father sleeping in the room above her own, separated by the thin wood of the floor. She arches against the bed, and her eyes meet the iron cross hung above her bed frame.

She’d often ask him to leave the hat on, and he’d laugh, pleased that she is slowly adopting sexual preferences and interests.

She was his perfect, sophisticated woman that he was free to defile and poison with his desires.

[thiscoldheart]

some details that i loved in la chimera (spoiler heavy) :

i posted this on twitter as well but i wanted to include it here too. i love this little moment here where italia rests her head on arthur's shoulder and for a brief moment, he's anchored to the present by that touch, but him being the orpheus that he is, just HAD to turn back and find himself gravitating towards the tombs, the past and his eurydice.

the fact that italia's name is literally italy in italian and by the end of the movie she creates a community of her own where she's looking out for those that are outcasted by society, in an abandoned train station named riparbella which literally means "to start again".

arthur's eye always being blocked by shadow throughout the movie until he sees the light at the very end

according to wiki, the goddess the statue is based on is cybele, goddess of nature, animals, wild places and represents the "creative and destructive force of nature." her phrygian name matar (mother) alludes to the fact that she was a "mediator between the boundaries of the known and unknown, the civilized and the wild, the worlds of the living and the dead." i love that this goddess' presence in the movie symbolizes arthur traversing between the living and the dead worlds and getting closer to beniamina. i love that by the end of the movie, the statue itself becomes unknown to human eyes and returns to the wild, far away from civilization, which is arguably the same fate that arthur meets as he dies.

the red string that's following arthur around is very reminiscent of the red string ariadne gives theseus to find his way through the maze. it's beautiful how this red string seems to appear only in his dreams at first but slowly starts crossing the boundaries of dreams and reality as the movie goes on until he is able to tug at it by the end and cross over into beniamina's world.

arthur, at the beginning of the movie, says "so it's you. my last woman's face." how cool is it that beniamina's face resembles cybele's?

arthur goes back to flora's house after being injured and her daughter finds him in the bathroom. spooked, she says "i thought it was a ghost" which arthur might as well be considering how he's essentially been a walking corpse this entire movie.

also a special shout out from the bottom of my heart to the sped up sequences, didn't even realize how badly i needed them until i saw them. the chaos in these sequences is everything to me. this is REAL cinema!

in general, one of the themes that i've come to love about this movie is how objects can have different meanings to everyone. an object like the bell arthur found was just "a thing that rings" whereas italia interprets it as a gift until she comes to realize it's been excavated from a grave. the statue was part of a shrine back when it was made, but to the tombaroli and the sellers, this is only a means to make more money. the train station started off as a place that symbolizes movement of people from the city to the countryside but has now become a home for the outcasts of society. the apotropaic phallus would've have warded off evil and bad luck back in the day, but is now used as a means of escape from the law. a simple red string is the literal lifeline for arthur as he tries to find his way back to his lover.

also want to give another shout out to the inclusion of the italian troubadours (our greek chorus) who beautifully spell out the tragedy of our protagonist and his gang.

speaking of music, i really liked this particular song italia was singing as she was practicing. the lyrics go "i'd like to explain to you, o god/ where my suffering lies/ but fate condemns me to weep/ to weep" and that's exactly when arthur finds her crying son. at least italia finds a way for her suffering to end by the end of the movie. maybe we can say the same about arthur too?

i'll probably add more as i keep rewatching the movie lol and make a thread of this on twitter too (x) thanks for sticking around and let me know what other cool details y'all noticed!

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

15 and 20 with Eddie Brock/Venom please!

.⋆｡At Last｡⋆.

Eddie Brock/Venom x plus size reader

A quiet weekend in the mountains with your boyfriends is just what you all needed (and totally wasn’t because you’re on the run from the law)

Warnings: reader is a bit of a brat, mentions of getting shot at and abusive parents, past murder, fluff, implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Celebration

Peace to Eddie Brock seemed to be an entirely foreign concept. His whole life was one shit storm after another, there had never been a moment of calm between his abusive father, his struggles in school, the endless fight between him and his bosses, the breakup with Annie, and then discovering Venom. He supposed he chased the chaos, needing that dose of adrenaline and fear in his blood to remind him that he was still alive and fighting.

But the second that you came crashing into his life (quite literally too, you hit Venom with your car), all he had known was that he could finally breathe. You pulled him from the fire countless times and this weekend was yet another one of those times.

Eddie had begun to get lazy in controlling Venom, letting him do what he pleased during nights when Eddie simply couldn’t be bothered to even wake up to go on patrol with him. And as a result of that, Venom accidentally ate the head of the leader of the most powerful gang in San Francisco so the three of you had to lay low for a while. Using the last of your savings, you bought a shitty cabin in the Rocky Mountains and settled there with your boys.

The whole day had been spent in silence but it was far from uncomfortable, for you at least. Venom and Eddie currently weren’t talking to each other though both seemed adamant that they stay close to you as the sun began to set over the mountains and the chill started to creep in through the poor insulation. 

Eddie’s head rested on your chest, his thick arms wrapped around your waist as Venom had nuzzled into your neck, purring happily every time you gave him a small peck between his huge milky eyes. Your nails trailed up and down Eddie’s bare back, tracing every imperfection on his skin, slowly easing the stress from his body.

All he could hear was the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear. Eddie smiled softly, rubbing the tip of his nose between your breasts. You giggled at the feeling and dug your nails into the small pudge of fat at his hips. “What’s got you so affectionate, Brock?”

“Jus happy.” He muttered, squeezing your waist even tighter than before. Venom nodded against your skin in agreement.

He is right nibble, we are very happy. 

“So you guys are finally done with the silent treatment to each other?” 

“No.” No. You raised an eyebrow at your partners to which Venom chose to continue speaking. We just love you, that is all we agree on. You rolled your eyes at them.

“Are you sure you’re both not just sucking up to me because you think I’m mad about having to quit my job and go on the lam?” Venom growled at that, making the entire bed rumble with the force of it as Eddie felt his blood pressure start to rise. Yet, no part of him felt that usual tensing of his muscles or pounding in his ears that usually came with anger, just a buzzing in his veins that only appeared in your presence. 

You said you weren’t mad. Venom pouted, making you coo at him.

“Aww baby, I’m not, I promise. I just like teasing you both.” The chill in the room didn’t stop Eddie from sitting up between your plump legs, the thick duvet that had been covering you both falling away. Your eyes, though they still sparkled with mischief, grew darker as you looked at the half naked man currently towering over you. He smirked when your gaze dropped to the old sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

Venom slid back into Eddie but you knew he was lurking below the surface, waiting to strike. “Do you now?” You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, barely managing to suppress a whine at the deep timbre of his voice.

“Well, I think it’s only fair. We’re in the middle of nowhere and you didn’t let me keep my phone. I have to entertain myself somehow.” Eddie’s muscles rippled as he leaned forwards, pushing your soft body into the mattress, keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted to.

We can smell her. Venom purred in Eddie’s mind. “Yeah buddy we can.” He agreed, taking in a deep breath and letting the thick scent of your arousal wash over them. 

“The last time you two had a secret conversation in front of me, it led to me getting shot at.” You snapped though there was no bite in your tone. Eddie groaned under his breath and rested more of his weight onto you.

He gripped one of your thighs tight enough to bruise as he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “Oh you’re getting pregnant tonight. Fucking brat.” You shuddered beneath him.

“You’re all talk.” Venom snarled and a black tendril shot out from Eddie’s side, wrapping tightly around your wrists, pinning them to the bed above you. 

“Try us.” Their voices moulded together and you smirked. 

At last, Eddie Brock had his peace.

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[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Shanks learning your hometown is dangerous

Sailing up a river

Hongo: this weed is great, where'd you get it?

You: my nan sent it in her last care package.

Shanks: your grandmother sent you weed?

You: of course

Benn: I thought that your island had a rather excessive police force.

You: oh, it does, it's just that the police are usually in on it. Like one of my cousins' plug was the literal chief of police, Doug. That fat old man wasn't great at enforcing the law, but he grew some of the best bud on the island, it literally glittered in the sunlight.

Hongo: really?

You: yeah, apparently Doug retired from the police force, but started his own illegal grow operation up on the mountain and has created a ton of jobs. Or at least that's some of the stuff my friend has written about in the letters she sends.

Benn: Oh, that's nice.

You: Well, it's a bit of a mixed bag. My mom's letters say that the police force has been helping Doug deal with rival gangs, so there's been a drop in crime. But they've also been cracking down on other illegal grows, including my uncle's. And unfortunately, the police have killed six of my cousins.

Benn: [trying to change the topic, points] Look giant river otters!

Shanks: Otters, where!

The crew: [gathers against the railing]

The Otter: [eating an armored carp]

Lucky Roux: Those eyes, yeesh, are fucking awful.

You: Reminds me of the stink eye I, once, got off of a crackhead.

Shanks What?

Benn: How did you know it was a crackhead?

You: Because I literally made eye contact with him, during the lunch rush in the business district of my hometown, mid hit off a crack pipe.

The crew: [side eyes you]

Shanks: Does your hometown have an issue with drugs?

You: yeah, but it's only a side effect of all the organized crime and gang activity.

Shanks: I know you love your family and all that, but you're never going back to that hellhole you call an island. Also, I'm sending money to get your family and friends off that island.

You: [shrug]

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[j0kers-light]

what if y/n was an airhead... not necessarily super dumb but a little slow or ditzy... and a little dumb. but also very positive and carefree. basically a golden retriever type of person 😂 i just wonder what j would think about that 😂

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

Oh this is gonna be fun. 🥰 I love doing reaction head canons! Let’s GO!!!!! Don’t ask why I’m still up at 2am. I hope you enjoy anon!

The first time that Joker met you, he wanted to slash your throat so bad. How are you so positive and carefree? There's no way you're like this 24/7.

You are. Gods you really are. Joker questions your mental state because you are too kind to others and your naivety is so pure, you are considered a national treasure. He wants to taint you. Point. Blank. Simple.

How are you so joyful? Do you do drugs? You're always smiling, offering up words of encouragement, and soooooooo many hugs to strangers. You are wayy too bubbly for J's tastes.

Too often you remind Joker of his ex Harley and he refuses to do that all over again. He considers breaking up with you because you're just so... ditzy.

Your attention span is that of a goldfish, and you literally stop to smell the roses while out and about. You even play peek-a-boo with children you see on the street. End his misery please. 😭

But despite the constant headaches you give Joker, he can’t seem to stay away. He’s addicted.

Frost and the boys stare at Joker in horror when you visit the hideout (unannounced) with a basket full of baked goods; blissfully unaware that a goon almost shot you for trespassing.

This is the girl their boss is dating?!!?!? HOW? It’s giving peak grumpy x sunshine energy because you and Joker do not compute.

BUT. IT WORKS. The laws of the universe bend to make it happen and Joker cannot thank them enough for placing you in his life. He wouldn’t be the same without you.

You know you can be an airhead at times but Joker reins in your overly bubbly persona. He's always looking out for you and not allowing anyone to make you into a pushover.

In return, you encourage and offer Joker the love and support he secretly needs while quelling his more violent tendencies.

You calm his anger. He keeps you focused. 🔥✨

You're still his Light although it stands for Sunlight in this scenario and you get a sun tattoo behind your ear in honor of it.

Joker is grateful that you are nothing like Harley. Yes you can be annoying at times but you mean well in the long run.

Its not just obsessive loyalty and toxic love; you genuinely care about Joker and you push him to become a better man every day.

And the feeling is mutual. Joker does not tolerate anyone making fun of his sunlight. He kills anyone who insults your intelligence and anyone that makes you cry, mysteriously disappears.

Joker is the only one who can call you silly or dumb because it’s not an insult when J says it. 🥹

You giggle anytime he calls you silly girl or his dumb little slut. AND l OOP! SORRY ! I forgot this was sfw!! 👀👀 MOVING ON 👩🏽‍💻

Speaking of you barging into the hideout with baked goodies. That actually happened.

Everyone was shocked when you knocked on the door with a loud, "HELLLLLOOOOOOOO! J are you in there? I brought snackies!"

No one knows how you navigated this deep into Joker’s territory without being murdered. No one knows how you bypassed the building’s security.

You just waltz in like you own the place, bringing an aura of joy and happiness in your wake.

Joker was in an important meeting, discussing how to eliminate a rival popup gang when he heard your heels clicking down the hall. He knows that sound from anywhere and his face turns white.

A goon is right behind you threatening you to leave or else, when you just causally walk into the meeting room, blissfully unaware of the danger you are now in.

Do you even notice all the guns trained on you? Nope, you only have eyes for Joker. You stop yourself from tackling him with a hug.

"There you are J! Oh. Are you busy? Well not anymore!! I baked muffins, and cookies, and oh!” You finally acknowledge the room full of men.

You blink twice before smiling wide. “Hi everyone!! Does anyone have a peanut allergy? I made treats with and without nuts just in case!”

An entire room full of dangerous criminals stare in disbelief as you unload your wicker basket right onto the table, all while humming a song.

They all turn to stare at Joker who is ready to crawl into a hole from embarrassment. He doesn't even know where to begin there's so much to unpack here.

How did you get here all by yourself? Who let you in?! Why did you bake so much?! Is that a pain au chocolat?

Surely you sense the threat around you but no. You are so oblivious, it’s almost sad to watch.

Some brave soul does announce their allergy and you quickly deliver them a nut free brownie on a pink napkin.

Your naïve personality triggers an understanding in the room and people start to lower their weapons in exchange for treats.

By the end of your impromtu visit, Joker's gang is obsessed with you and your baking. And so the questions start pouring in.

"Y/n you’re so nice! How is someone like you with the boss?"

You look up from handing a goon a cookie, "You mean J? Oh!" You look away bashful as they all wait for a response. Even Joker is intrigued with what you’ll say.

“I’m not the smartest girl in Gotham but Joker doesn’t care! He’s the most patient person I’ve ever met and he never belittles me! How could I not love him? He’s so protective too! He always murders the mean people who make fun of me. Isn’t he so romantic?”

The room goes silent after that last bit. And so it all starts to make sense.

“Great. She’s crazy too." One guy whispers.

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (4/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: You follow Arthur back to camp, who isn't so happy about the decision. Yet, you are convinced that you have to be there for the last train heist of the van der Linde gang.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no tb-Arthur, literally love redemption, no smut (probably), "slow burn"

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

8000 words

You tried to take your time while following Arthur's tracks. A ride through Murfree country never had been one of your favourite past time activities. Since you had to ride through the territory to reach Annesburg, you were familiar with all its paths and knew where Murfrees could hide; but the familiarity didn’t change the fact that you just preferred to not be in danger. If you had a job to do in Annesburg and had plenty of time to spare, you would ride around the territory, but if you had to be quick, you always had your rifle and gun ready. Today, you’d rather be quick and follow the tracks directly. Arthur had a decent head-start and there was no way you would arrive at camp simultaneously.

Soon, you heard noise in the distance that you immediately associated with camp life; the clattering of plates, mumbling, occasional shouts. The noise was still muffled because of the forest. It was eerie, really. Despite the sun being high in the sky, it seemed to be misty and dark. If you had still been with the gang when the decision was made to camp here, you surely would have protested.

Already, you were awfully close to camp, but there was nobody standing guard. Maybe things had significantly changed since you last were part of the gang, but you wondered...because back then, when their bounties were still low, there still was someone keeping watch pretty much all the time. You rode along the earthy path and tents appeared. You scanned the campgrounds to look for someone familiar.

It didn't take long before eyes were on you. Javier was the first one to approach, greeting you in a friendly manner while you dismounted. Soon, a small circle had formed around you. Miss Grimshaw with mixed feelings about your long absence and sudden return; Tilly and Mary-Beth who wanted to know what you'd been up to; Karen who offered you a beer. Through the crowd of people, you saw Dutch and a sleazy blonde guy emerge from the darkness of the cave while Arthur put his head out of his tent to see what the commotion was about.

You couldn't dwell long on Arthur's expression, his mouth slightly open, fists clenching, while you walked past his tent to approach Dutch, who strolled towards you with open arms.

"Miss y/l/n!" Dutch greeted you, his big hand taking yours and shaking it as if you were business partners meeting to discuss a scheme. His hand was warm and slightly moist, which disgusted you, but you forces yourself to put on a grin. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart beat up to your throat, you were this anxious not to reveal that you had Arthur had reconnected.  

"Dutch," you nodded. You weren’t sure if more formalities would have been appropriate, but you had never called him “Mr van der Linde” and you saw no reason to start doing so now.

"Good to have you back! I had sent for you a while ago...", Dutch locked eyes with Arthur for a moment, who still stood by his tent, flabbergasted, "Rumour was you were dead."

"Well", you smiled charmingly, "I didn't want to be found just yet. I had some loose strings to tie up, wouldn't have wanted to get the gang entangled with my private business."

Dutch looked at you with a touch of doubt. So did the man with the blonde hair, you didn’t appreciate how he checked you out. Not just to find out if you weren’t a trap and had the law behind you, but purely sexual, trying to determine what you hid under your clothes. His gaze was unsettling.

"Anyways", you continued, "I read the paper recently and figured you'd appreciate an extra gun."

"How did you find us?", the blonde guy interrupted.

"Some of you guys can be tracked down quite easily", you smiled sympathetically, "I had some work in Annesburg and...well, your grocery runs..."

You'd rather blame Pearson for leading you to camp than Arthur. As far as you were concerned, you hadn't seen Arthur since he had broken your heart a year ago.

Dutch chuckled and it sounded strangely cold and tense, "Good to know we've got you back. We wouldn't want you as our enemy."

"Never", you smiled honestly, "Just tell me what needs to be done, I'll do it. I owe you for letting me roam for a year."

Dutch put a hand on your shoulder, then invited you to get comfortable. The remaining day was spent with talking to people, putting down your bedroll and sneaking some spices into Pearson’s stew. It was a matter of getting accustomed to camp life again, and frankly, you enjoyed having other people around. The only thing you avoided doing was getting close to Arthur and he didn’t seem keen on approaching you either.

By far the best aspect of being back at camp was catching up with everybody. You hadn’t realised how much you had missed all those familiar faces. Whenever you did a chore, you actually felt helpful, because there were people that needed and depended on you doing your part. Playing with Jack for an hour was rewarded with Abigail being thankful and looking way more relaxed. Putting some more spices in Pearson's stew was appreciated with winks and relieved smiles. But you never forgot the purpose of your return. Three days had passed, and still, not a single word had passed between you and Arthur. Your worry grew that the man might be seriously angry at you. 

While you thought about this on your third night, tending to the camp fire while everyone else was slowly retreating to their bedrolls, you saw Micah approach. It was his low chuckle that made you look up.

Now, three days had been plenty of time for the girls to warn you about him and his two suspicious companions. Apparently, he managed to sneak them into the gang without getting Dutch’s actual approval first – and you knew that wasn’t exactly a simple thing to do. Your muscles tensed as Micah closed the distance between you.

"Miss y/l/n", he made a half-assed bow before sitting down on a chair close to you, "I think we never had the pleasure of a proper introduction."

"You know who I am, I know who you are, Mr. Bell", you said coldly, focusing on the flames, "I don't think we need more introducing."

"It's just…", the man uttered and made some weird noises with his mouth, as if he was licking his lips, but you weren't looking at him, "I don't know if I can trust you. You just appeared, all of a sudden."

Raising an eyebrow, you responded: "You mean like your pawns? Joe and what-was-his-name? Pete?"

You observed Micah shift uncomfortably in his chair before replying: "Cleet and Joe know how to fight."

"So do I", you shot back sharply. Finally, you looked the man in the face. The warm, flickering orange of the fire cast him in a light that made his features look more intense than they were at daylight. The shadows danced menacingly across his face. You hadn’t quite made up your mind about Micah Bell, but you knew Arthur didn't like him, neither did Abigail or Mary-Beth...or anyone, really.

Micah made the mistake of placing his hands on the table and leaning in, his voice dropping to a whisper: "Women like you-"

But you swiftly interrupted him, drawing your hunting knife and driving it into the table next to Micah's hand. For a fleeting moment, his eyes gleamed dangerously and you feared he'd take the knife and gut you. Instead, he leaned back casually with a chuckle: "Yer a feisty one, aren't you?"

You swallowed, unsure if you were brave enough to continue this conversation. Making an enemy wasn't exactly your plan, especially if Micah could, in any way, become an inconvenience for your little escape plan. But you sighed, stood up and said with the steadies voice you managed: "I recommend you don't find out." You left the knife in the table, just to spare you the embarrassment of failing to pull it out of the wood smoothly.  

You turned your back and strode away, your stomach churning with the adrenaline of the confrontation. Normally, you wouldn't be so bold…but "normally" you didn't have to deal with guys like Micah. Sure, the gang had seen their share of members that were disrespectful, especially towards women – but never like this. Micah’s aura alone made you shiver.

Making your way to your horse, you soothed your nerves by tending to the animal, offering it a few carrots and stroking its mane. Patiently, you waited until Micah retreated from the fire and went into the cave. As the camp settled into quiet stillness, only disturbed by the rustle of leaves and the sound of your horses’ hooves, you retrieved your knife and headed back.

As you passed Arthur’s tent, you caught a whisper of your name. You paused, curiously.

The flaps were partially closed, but when you peeked inside, you saw him standing next to his table, the warm light of a lantern warmly filling the tent. It almost looked cozy, certainly better than your bedroll on the dirty and hard ground. Arthur’s gaze was intense as he looked at you. You asked "Yeah?", hoping he’d clarify if he wanted to talk or something, but Arthur didn’t reply.  Hesitantly, you stepped inside his tent, your hand still holding the canvas open, just in case you read the situation completely wrong.

It was only when you came closer that you saw his features were irritated. He approached you with a big step, grabbed you by the arm and pulled you further into the tent, so nobody outside would see that you’d just entered

"What the hell were you thinking?", Arthur spit at you, eyebrows furrowed and the grip around your arm tightening.

"What I was thinking?", you tried to speak calmly.

You knew exactly what he was referring to. Arthur had picked up the conversation as if you had just walked into camp five minutes ago and not like three days had passed already. You continued: "That I won't sit tight for a week and wait to see if you've made it out."

"Y/n...", Arthur sighed disappointedly.

"Arthur please", you wailed, trying to loosen his grip around your arm. He let go, not before his thumb lightly caressed the area his fingers had been digging in, as if to apologize.

You looked the man straight in the eye. He was still somewhat angry, but so were you. Though you found your anger insignificant under the scorn of this big man and you hated being on the receiving end of it.

Arthur finally averted his gaze: "I can't save you too."

"You won't have to", you replied sternly.

Arthur sat down on his chair, sighing as if he had just been told his mother had died. He didn't look at you, standing there like a scolded child.

"Did you read the note?", Arthur asked after a while, referring to his good-bye letter that you had crumpled and disappear under your bed, before your eyes could read any sorry, love-sickening words or promises that wouldn’t be kept.

"No!", you replied quickly, "I saw you left one, I didn't bother."

"Look, Arthur", you tried desperately to get the man on your side again, "I don't know how the train heist'll go. Maybe you die, maybe I die. Maybe we'll fail to safe whoever needs saving. But then I got at least...four days left to spend with you."

Arthur looked at you sadly.

"Because I won't go back to my fucking cabin and mourn you like I've mourned you the last months. I'll keep you alive. Or I die trying, I don't really give a fuck", tears pricked your eyes. Gosh, this place was depressing. You wished you could speak more calmly, more put together...but you understood why everybody behaved like a nut-case around here. Somehow, the forest sucked out all the joy you have.

"Okay", Arthur sighed, and he looked like he could understand or was at least ready to end the discussion. He opened his posture a little, nodding towards him as if to invite you. You approached slowly, not quite sure of what he expected you to do.

"Come 'ere", he mumbled. You sat down on his lap, snaking his arms around his body while he did the same. The two of you had been close when you made out. There had been barely any distance between you, when you had cut his hair. However, this was different. You nuzzled your face into his neck in the silence of the night, with no other intention but to be close to him. Finally, you had time to bask in his scent.

It was a calming scent, familiar somehow. Homely, in the best of ways. It calmed you down. All the while, Arthur enjoyed your closeness just as much; pressing you tighter to him, enjoying the proximity he had denied you when you had asked if he wanted to sleep next to each other’s. He didn't know how much he had needed that. A warm, loving body in his embrace. He felt your fingers restlessly scratching his jacket, as if they tried to complain about the extra layer. He felt your breath down his neck and your body squirming on his lap.

The two of you sat like that for a while. Arthur started to caress your hair, letting his fingers run through your strands while he waited for you to calm your breathing.

Arthur realized that he was making a mistake. He loved the way your body pressed down on him, loved how your body moved and reacted to his subtle touches. He absolutely feared and hated that he would crave the feeling forever. He had denied sleeping next to you only a few days prior because he knew both of you would suffer if either one dies. It’s similar to being parched, only to be allowed a small sip of water. Enough to satisfy you for the moment, but making you realize how much you really craved water. This embrace was the same.

"Can't stay here, can I?", as if you had read his thoughts, you smiled sadly and peeled yourself off Arthur. He moved his arms reluctantly from your body and glanced to his cot.

He'd prefer it too...to have you lie on top of him, sleeping peacefully.

You spoke again before he could answer: "I always fear that this camp'll be overrun by Murfrees at night."

"Charles 'n I killed probably most of ‘em. There wouldn't be enough to bother us", Arthur tried to reassure you. His voice was a little dreamy, as if the image of you two sharing a cot was still very vivid on his mind.  

"Yeah...", you replied and stood up. Arthur's hands slid into yours, so that you now were holding hands as you stood next to him. The affectionate gestured surprised you a little, it send a pleasurable tingle into your stomach.

"Good night, then", you sighed and brushed your thumb over Arthur's back of his hand.

"G'd night, darlin'", Arthur mumbled. He might have been disappointed that you came to camp but softening him was as easy as putting old bread in a bowl of soup. And there he was, all soft and soggy after five minutes intimacy. Admittedly, you felt softened and calmed down too. You wouldn’t have been able to sleep after your little run-in with Micah, if it hadn’t been for the fact that you and Arthur had now made up. Your goal and purpose was in clear sight again; somehow protect this man and be there for him, in case Dutch or anyone else betrays him again.  

Satisfied, you walked to your bedroll and crept onto in, falling asleep quiet easily.

-

Nothing much would be happening until the train job in a few days – at least, that was what you believed. Of course, you were wrong.

The next day, you had volunteered to go on a grocery run with Uncle and Pearson. You had never been particularly close with them, but it wasn’t a detective’s job to see them whisper about something behind your back. While you waited in front of the grocery store and watched the young boys that helped out load your carriage, the two men walked off to the train station. They gave you some mumbled excuse, you had barely understood what they had said, but now you watched them in the distance as they ran their fingers over the train’s schedule. On their way back to you, you could pinpoint the precise moment they realised your eyes were on them, because they straightened their backs and put on innocent smiles. You gave them a sympathetic smile in return.

On the ride back, there was an uncomfortable silence between the three of you, before Pearson finally asked: "Why did you come back, y/n? You said you saw the papers...you should know that this won't last much longer..."

"Well…”, a quick grin hushed over your face before you forced yourself to sound more serious, “I said I would be back. And I'm loyal to Dutch." As soon as the word “loyal” had left your lips, you saw the men stiffening, Uncle shooting dangerous gazes to Pearson.

You let them hang in suspense and fear a few moments longer, before you smiled and snorted: "Oh, relax. I'm just fucking with you."

The flabbergasted faces of the men made you laugh.

"I came back to help Arthur to get everyone out before it's too late", you said truthfully and before you could add something, Uncle laughed triumphantly: "I knew it! Mary-Beth will be so happy to hear that you two are together!"

Your cheeks grew warm so quickly, you had barely registered Pearson’s words. Then you fumbled with the reins and tried to put some force behind your words: "I never said anything about being together with Arthur."

"But you were in his tent yesterday, weren't you?", Uncle asked in a manner that suggested he already knew the answer, and so did the girls and whoever he gossips with, apparently. So, you didn't say anything and chewed your inner cheek.

This was the perfect moment to change the topic and make the men aware that you figured they want to leave camp. You would help them - this was why you were there, after all.

Finally, you managed to swallow and said: "Anyways...I have guard duty from 2 am until the morning. You can slip away during that time...if you're in Annesburg before the sun's out, you should be in the clear", you said, eyes on the road.

"You're a good one, y/n", Pearson said happily, "Though I don't quite agree with the way you overseason my stew-"

"I can't overseason what's not seasoned in the first place!", you interrupted loudly, but it was in a friendly manner.

They briefly talked about what they'd take with them, that Mary-Beth would join them and you listened, already coming up with excuses on how it could happen that three people disappeared while you had guard duty. It felt like you had it all figured out. It was a relief to know that three people would be taken care of by tomorrow. The harder was the punch in the face when you arrived back at camp and found most of the men missing.  

The Indians had come and asked for help at the oil factory, and Dutch had jumped at the opportunity. You had a terrible feeling, but you knew that riding after them wouldn't make much sense, so you bided your time until most of them returned...without Arthur and Charles, that is.

The question burned on your tongue. Where was Arthur? Was he okay? But as far as you were concerned, officially, nobody knew that the two of you were on speaking-terms. You couldn’t exactly walk up to Javier and ask him where your lover was. Maybe, you could have asked John, but you would have felt like an idiot for being so worried after only a couple of hours.

Arthur returned at sunset, grumpy face and slouching shoulders. When you approached him, he shot you a warning gaze. Not a dangerous gaze that made you think he was mad at you, but a silent warning, a peep at Dutch, and then he disappeared, walking off to eat an apple at the outskirts of camp. Charles hadn't returned, so you thought something might have happened to him, but Sadie finally filled you in on the details. The chief's son had been shot, was probably dead now, but nobody in the gang had been hurt, as far as she knows.

You waited a few more minutes, before you stalked after Arthur, finding him sitting in the dirt and watching the river in the distance.

Arthur briefly twisted his head in your direction as if to make sure that it really was you. He gave you no sign of recognition or invitation to join him, you simply heard a sigh, then saw some more smoke puffing from the cigarette between his lips.

"Dutch…he…He saw that a man was about to gut me, and jus’ walked away”, Arthur stumped his cigarette on a tree like an angry child would kick a stone, “Eagle Flies’s dead, 'cause of me…"

You weren’t quite sure if you understood what had happened at the oil factory, but you sensed that Arthur was extremely upset about it. Somehow, you couldn’t just say something bad about Dutch, because it didn’t matter if he had left Arthur – you hadn’t been there to begin with. Yet, staying at Arthur’s side was the sole reason you now sat down in the moist earth of this unsettling forest. Even now, you though you heard somebody scream in the distance and the darkness swapped places with the setting sun quickly spread throughout the woods and distorted shadows in the distance.

There was only little space left between you and Arthur, as you sat next to each other, watching water flow down the river. If anyone from camp saw you like that, they could probably put one and one together; but right now, you couldn't care less.

Had you ever seen Arthur so hurt and unsure of everything? You remembered, unfortunately quiet vividly, how under the weather the man was when Mary had to reject him or when he heard that she had married another. Back then, the whole camp felt Arthur’s sour mood and had done its best to offer distraction and ease the burden he normally carried a little bit. Today, you were the only one who seemingly had noticed that he wasn’t feeling well. Given the hostile mood at camp, this was probably for the best.

"He was a good guy, then? Eagle Flies...?", you asked quietly, sensing that Arthur would like to say a few more words about it.

"Yes. Hot headed and easily twisted by Dutch's speeches, unfortunately. Dutch did more damage to the tribe than..., well, I don't know. He was the chief's only son. And Rain Falls is...maybe wiser than a fool like me can ever hope of becoming", Arthur was brabbling, mumbling his words, making them tricky to follow. You tried your best, nonetheless.

"Thought I'd stay with 'em. Help 'em bag and leave...", Arthur admitted, his fingers brushed over the soil, picking out dried blades of grass, "Charles sent me back 'nd said there's people here needing me."

This caught you off guard. Leaving with the tribe would mean leave you behind with this mad bunch of degenerates, with Micah and his companions that looked at you like they just waited for an opportunity to catch you alone. Could you blame him, though? His father figure and mentor was ready to let Arthur be killed off.

It was at this point that you truly realised: The gang would be no longer.

Also, Arthur had no obligation nor responsibility for you. It had been your choice to leave your comfortable home to try and protect him here. Maybe it had been a bad idea to begin with. You should have stayed at your cabin and prayed or asked witches to bring Arthur back to you. The two of you weren't a couple. Arthur might have admitted to feel something for you, but that didn’t have to mean anything…not in the world he lived in.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Arthur was leaning in before he pressed a gentle kiss onto your temple.

"I love ya", he mumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or several, actually, and your mind was blank.

Two minutes of quietly trying to convince yourself that the outlaw next to you, can’t possibly commit to anything, that the last time you spent together at you cabin and made out could have been a dream, and now he straight up told you that he…

It was your surprised and blank face that prompted Arthur to say: " 's okay. Ya don't 've to say it back. Or feel the same. 's just...almost dying...", Arthur swallowed. There was something like fear in his eyes, like he was rethinking his entire life, regretting the paths he had walked, the people he had killed. And not having told you sooner.

"You won't die. Not if I can help it", you assured, those were the only words you managed to say.

Arthur chuckled sadly: "Bullets travel fast."

You looked at each other as if you had walked into a dead end. Arthur had just told you that he loved you and you couldn’t say it back…or were afraid to say it back? You had already said something similar, a few days back, why did this feel so much more important?

Then you shared a hesitant smile.

"Oh, yeah”, you started again, “Pearson, Uncle and Mary-Beth are thinking of leaving tomorrow at dawn. I'm on guard duty, so they'll have safe passage."

"Okay", Arthur nodded, "come 'n see me at night before ya take yer post. I got s’mthing for yer..."

You nodded confusedly, but with peaked interest.

Nobody had to wake you at 2 am, because you had barely managed to fall asleep. It would be another half an hour before you swapped with Javier, so you took your time to warm up some coffee. Cup in hand, you sneaked into Arthur’s tent.

The man was completely knocked out and snoring on his tiny cot. As much as you loved the idea of sleeping in his tent with him, both of you would never fit on it. Arthur slept peacefully, sprawled out and without fear that someone hostile would sneak up on his. And yet, here you were. Disturbing him felt like a crime, but he had practically told you to wake him.

"Arthur", you whispered and put your cup down on the table, lighting the lantern so he'd see you when he woke and not get startled. When he didn’t react, you repeated his name slightly louder.

Nothing. You thought hard; was it really that important to wake him up? Couldn't it wait until the morning? If anyone, Arthur really deserved his sleep. The curiosity though...

"It's me," you said, now lightly touching his shoulder. This did the trick, Arthur opened his eyes and shot up. It reminded you of trying to pet a cat when it was asleep – it would always wake up as if you had stepped on its tail.

"Oh", Arthur's shoulders relaxed when he realised it was you. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, adapting to the dim light in the tent and groaned, "Gimme a second."

"D-don't worry", you stuttered, now definitely feeling bad for waking him.

You watched as he stretched his legs and ran his hands over his face, trying to shake the sleepiness. After a few more moments, he stood up and walked over to his wardrobe chest. With an aching and tired groan, he pulled out a holster and a gun belt which was already dressed with bullets.

"I wore this when I was 'bit smaller", Arthur commented, his voice deep and gravelly. He walked up to you, placing the holster on the belt and then gently putting it around your waist. Though sleep-drunk, Arthur tried his best to not touch you anywhere inappropriate. You smiled affectionately as Arthur closed the belt buckle and mumbled: "I won't let you go in a fight with your gun crammed into yer pants."

That being said, he pulled your gun out of your waistband. You didn't stop him, as he briefly inspected the weapon, finding it in acceptable condition and dropping it into your new holster.

"Might need to adjust it, t’have it sit right. Guess you got the rest of the night to figure out which height you wanna wear it", as Arthur's raspy sleep voice faded, you noticed a sad undertone.

"Thank you, truly", you said, rattling the belt lightly to make it sit better.

"Sure", Arthur tried to crack a smile.

You held eye contact for a few seconds. Something needed to happen. Either one of you had to admit that they were deeply worried the other one would die later tonight or a hug, a kiss...anything. You knew that Arthur felt the same, that he was itching to break the silence, but neither of you found the courage.

"I'll...go on guard duty now. Wouldn't want to see Uncle and the rest try'n slip away with Javier still keeping guard."

"Sure", Arthur repeated and sat down on the cot, more than ready to go back to sleep, "Call on me if there's trouble."

You nodded, took your cup and walked out the tent.

The swap went smoothly, as were the first one and a half hours and then you heard something in camp stir behind you. About quarter of an hour later, Uncle, Pearson, Mary-Beth and Karen stood before you. Well, Karen was lying on a waggon, snoring. Uncle had mounted the horse that was pulling the little waggon and the other two were on foot, smiling at you hesitantly.

"You've got some money on you?", you asked, almost in a whisper.

"God damn it, we should have known that she wanted something for leaving us go!", Uncle cursed, and you couldn't quite tell if it was being sarcastic or not.

"No, you idiot", you complained, as friendly as you managed, "Money for your train. For a life afterwards, I don't know...to get a some fucking distance between you and this rat hole."

"Oh", you heard Uncle mumbled and it irritated you that he really believed you would want them to pay.

Pearson answered: "We got a few bucks. Should last for at least one or two stations."

You shook the head and pulled out a ten-dollar bill – your savings and the only money you had taken from home. "Take some more then, and hurry. I'll sweep the tracks behind you. Stay on the main road", you quickly rambled because you realized the sooner they leave, the better.

It was dark, the light of the moon barely reached the ground and the dim lantern they had was soon swallowed up by the trees. You grabbed an old broom and swept away their tracks for about 50 yards before you went back to your post.

Before most people started rising, you put on some coffee and used the last bit of porridge that had been in a big sack at the supplies pile to make some proper breakfast. For one thing, nobody would start wondering about Pearson's absence as quickly and for another, you might as well use the last pit of porridge, ideally, you won't be here tomorrow to suffer from its absence. You'd either be long gone or lying dead in a ditch as food for ravens - either way, the porridge won't be of any use for you. Neither would it be for Jack, John, Abigail, Arthur...and the other half decent people that were still here. Ideally.

Nobody seemed to notice that people were missing, expect for Miss Grimshaw - but she kept quiet for some reason. Arthur gave you a knowing smile when he passed you to get some coffee, as you retired again to catch up on some sleep.

Your nerves woke you some time before noon. The men were loading their weapons and brushing their horses. The suspense in the air quickly got rid of your remaining tiredness. This was your first big job, after all. Every moment your brain woke up from its slumber, you realised that you had never done anything similar before. You had robbed the odd fella and held up a couple of waggons…but robbing a train with army pay roll? You wondered if you hadn’t overestimated yourself.

As you stood up and got dressed, you noticed Arthur standing close to the cave and having a discussion with Dutch. The cold glares they exchanged sent shivers down your spine.

As you passed Arthur’s tent, a letter caught your attention. It was, besides the lantern, the only thing that occupied his table and you were sure that it hadn’t been there at night. You wouldn’t have though much of it, hadn’t you caught the name “Mary” on the cover. A quick glance at Arthur reassured you that he was all packed up, now somewhat agitatedly walking to his horse with the rest of the men. You made a couple of big steps, grabbed the letter and you eyes passed quickly over the lines “From Mary, To Arthur” before it startled you that there was something besides paper in this cover.

This was when Dutch’s shout: “Let’s ride!” echoed through camp. You slipped the letter into your satchel and joined the others.

You would never have admitted it, but you were anxious. Again, in your mind, you went through the clientele that you had robbed before. Drunk fools, rich looking travellers that weren’t significantly armed…any situation where you clearly had the upper hand. when you ran with the gang. Alone, you had stopped one or the other rich looking traveller. This, however, would be a battle for survival. Ideally, you had the money and would slip away before anything happened, but everyone knew that bullets would be flying sooner or later.

While riding, you stuck close to Sadie. You craved talking to Arthur, hell, as much as a comfort-providing look would have been great...but there wasn't any. Your anxiety only rose when he rode off with John to get some dynamite and you were stuck with the rest...You knew Sadie was fine, the others were not entirely trustworthy. Micah used the absence of Arthur and John, maybe the only men who would have been ready to defend you, to fall back in the group and make some “small talk”.

"You sure you're ready for this? Fine lady like you shouldn’t play outlaw with the men", Micah chuckled sarcastically. You were glad when Sadie interrupted him and threatened to cut his balls off, if he didn't shut up. You couldn't have come up with a witty reply for the life of it, you worried way too much about how the next two hours would turn out. The feeling of having to throw up was somewhat overwhelming, had you opened your mouth, you doubted something good would have left it.

Only when Arthur and John rejoined the group, you calmed slightly.

Things took their run. You had to ride hard to catch that train, your mind going crazy about the commands Dutch yelled every opportunity he got. You didn't understand why he wanted you to board the train - Sadie and Cleet were to board the train half-way, John, Arthur and you should jump on at the end. There wasn't any time to talk back or complain, even though Arthur didn’t seem to agree with that either.  

You steered your horse closer and closer to the waggon as Arthur rode up beside you: "Jump!" he yelled, because he had noticed you hesitated for a few seconds too long. You sent him an unsure gaze, which he took as a sign to board the train first. He made it look easy, jumping on a train that was going at the speed of...well, a train. Your horses had trouble keeping up.

But as Arthur extended a hand to show you that he'd catch you, you inhaled, untangled your feet from the stirrups and took a leap of faith. Unceremoniously, you crashed into Arthur, who did his best so you wouldn't fall over. You had barely collected your bearings, when John yelled at the two of you: "Come on, push!"

The thought that this has been a terrible idea crossed your mind multiple times as you struggled to keep up with the two men. It was them who shot most of the enemies, you were happy with sometimes hiding behind a corner and aimlessly firing at the guards, so they'd have to hide and give John and Arthur the time to reload. Hunting unsuspecting deer and rabbits did not compare to shooting at humans, you concluded, as you missed three shots. But your attempt was enough to make the guard hesitate before aiming his weapon at John, which was the split second that Arthur needed to gun him down.

This game continued for a couple of wagons. You jumped over crates and climbed on the roof of wagons that you were surprised of how much your body was capable. Your only goal was to not get left behind by the two men. Arthur sometimes turned around to make sure you were still following properly, but both of you were so out of breath, that it wouldn’t have worked to exchange a few words.

You didn't know how or why, but all of a sudden, the wagon in front of you had caught fire. John was quickest to react to Bill's yell to jump on his horse. Arthur looked anxiously between you and Dutch, who now called for him to jump on his. Riding behind Dutch was your last available option for a lift: Micah. Arthur was about to open his mouth, but Dutch pressured him to jump already. You whirled around and almost jumped happily, when you saw your horse straining to keep close to the train at the other side.

You whistled and it understood. Not even thinking about not making the jump really helped. You simply jumped, almost slipped from the guardrails but somehow grabbed onto your horse. Your fingers tightened around its mane, the reins fluttering around too vividly to catch it. Clutched your legs around the horse as tightly as you could, your spurred it on to skip the burning waggon. You stopped fearing for either your or Arthur's life at this moment. Hell, your only loyal companion the last couple of years had been your horse and you swore if a bullet as much as grazed it, you would find the gun that had done it and kill the owner barehanded, if needed.

Arthur was already on the next waggon and as he shouted at John to uncouple the burning one before it blows up the train, he positioned himself again, ready to catch you if needed. It was a smoother boarding than your first try, Arthur only gripped your elbow so you wouldn't topple over.

Arthur's eyes were already fixed on the gatling gun, then he pointed at  acouple of crates: "Hide there!"

Arthur shoved you behind the crates and you saw a panic in his eyes as everyone noticed a man on a cliff in the distance that alarmed everyone of the crime in act.  

Suddenly, everything happened awfully quick. Arthur had just finished putting the gun together and John had manged to unhinge the burning wagon. Three seconds later, it gave a loud boom and the waggon toppled over. For a few moments, you heard nothing. Your ears tried to adjust from the explosion to the constant noise of the train rattling through its tracks, when one gunshot pierced the air. John fell off the train like a sack of potatoes.

You hadn’t even seen where the shot had come from, but the man was dead before he could fire another - Arthur had been quick to draw his gun.

"I'll get John! You protect that money!", Dutch yelled, he and the rest of the riders turned their horses around. Looking at Arthur’s sceptical face, you knew that he didn’t believe Dutch would actually look out for John.

"I'll go stop the train!", Bill yelled.

Arthur spun around, carrying a case with ammunition for the gatling: "Whatever you do, do not stop the train! You secure up ahead but keep us movin'! I'll deal with the patrol when they come through!"

While the others ran off, Arthur rpinted towards you: "Go collect John. I don't trust Dutch to not jus' leave him."

"He's probably dead! I won't leave you too-", you quickly answered, out of breath.

"No!", Arthur interrupted, "You go collect him and I'll meet ya at yer cabin with Abigail 'n Jack!"

"I can't just-"

"Yes! You can god damn it!", Arthur was irritated. You were running out of time. The first bullet of the patrol hit the waggon, "Listen t' me. Yer gonna be fine and I'm gonna be fine. Here-"

Arthur took of his hat and pressed it onto your head.

And that didn't feel right. It was like he gave up his most prized possession. It didn't even fit but wobbled uncomfortably on your smaller head.

"No", you croaked. Your throat became dry from all the yelling, otherwise you wouldn’t understand each other because of the noise. Not again. Not again this “good-bye” scenario. He couldn't leave a letter, so he left you with his hat?

"It’s a promise", Arthur explained, "I'll get my hat back, understand? You jus’ take care of it for now."

You shook your head violently, the hat wobbled: “Take care of your hat, take care of your journal! I don’t want to-“

"If there's as much as a scratch on it", Arthur tried to joke, but it didn't sound like a joke. His voice was serious and stern. Then he grabbed you by the collar and lifted you up from your cowering position behind the crates. He lifted you like one would lift one’s opponent in a fight, just to have them on eye-level before delivering the punch to their face.

"I'll meet ya at yer cabin", Arthur promised again, and his face was so close, you thought he might kiss you, but then another bullet from the patrol splintered the wood of the crates you had sat behind a moment before.

Arthur said something that confused you: "Watch yer head" and before you could make sense of the words, Arthur pushed you against the shoulders and you went flying off the train. The second before you hit the ground, rolling along and crashing into a tree you remembered to keep your head up and it might have prevented you from dying, because the impact was brutal.

When you crashed into the tree you thought you were dead. You couldn't breathe. Everything went black for a few seconds before your body spasmed up in panic, trying to get air into your lungs. It didn't happen.

You were going to suffocate. You struggled for air until you were too exhausted to try. You were lying in the dirt, your whole body hurting, with no air in your lungs.

In the last possible second, when your vision already became blurry, the smallest bit of air filled your lungs and prolonged your suffering a little longer, until the next tiny gasp for air.

You didn’t know how long you'd been lying there before you managed to breath somewhat normally, ignoring the excruciating pain that each breath brought you.

In between blinking you saw Arthur's hat lying some feet away and wondered if that had been the real joke; to protect his hat while flying off a train.

Your first action was to crawl to the hat and put it on, no matter how pathetic it looked. Arthur had pushed you so far, you were surrounded by trees and shrubbery. Even if another patrol rode next to the tracks, he wouldn't see you.

With all the strength you could muster, you pushed yourself into a standing position on a tree and fought your way through the woods.

John was surely dead, or Dutch and the rest had done their job and collected him. It made no sense to spend your energy walking back, but you did so anyways. Your hands always reached for the nearest trunk to hold on to, your left leg didn’t react well to the weight you tried to put on it, so you just dragged it.

To your surprise, when you closed in on the man lying on the tracks, he was moving - and still there.

"John?", you wheezed, struggling to catch your breath, anxiously looking around. Nobody was close, even the train was so far ahead by now, that the gun shots were muffled.

When you got no response, you nudged John with your boots which made him blink lazily. There was blood seeping through his shirt and jacket. Had you ever seen so much blood? It was his left shoulder, too.

For a few seconds you just stood there, wondering. Would he even survive? How should you get him to your cabin?

In an act of desperation, you whistled, hoping your horse would be close by. And it was. You had to hold back tears of joy when it came galloping along.

"John", you squatted next to him, even though the movement hurt you greatly, "Come on, we gotta get out of here. I can't lift you on my horse alone."

Thank God, your horse was well trained and knew how to lower itself for people to get on from the ground. You still had to pull and push the half-conscious man, but you had a significantly easier time. Your body ached from all the straining, and you were quiet sure that whatever damage you had taken from the fall was significantly worsened by the exercise, but it wasn’t like you had a real choice.

You rode, as fast as the constitution of your horse would allow, straight to your cabin. The sun was setting when you arrived. John had passed out a couple of times during the ride, and it was only when you had given him some alcohol to drink and had cleaned and bandaged his wound, that he passed out - but snoring and quiet peacefully.

You had no time to inspect your own body and assess the damage the fall had done, because as soon as you were done with John and had thrown him onto your bed, you heard a horse approach.

Jack and Tilly.

According to Tilly, Arthur was still alive, but had gone to Annesburg with Sadie to get Abigail who had been taken by Pinkertons. This scared you shitless, but at this point you were too exhausted to show it. Instead, you offered Jack something to eat and then had the two of them settle down inside the house. You waited at the garden gate, listening for riders.

It was dark and almost midnight when you saw a dim light in the distance. It came from the opposite direction of where you'd expected Arthur to come from, so you pulled your gun. But soon, you were able to make out the rider. The dim light of a lantern illuminated Sadie and behind her on the horse, Abigail.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Last chapter: here

I apologize for the many typos, but I figured it was better the chapter would see the light of day instead of rotting in my drafts any longer. Took me way too long to begin with heh.

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon @nervousmumbling @pheesupremacy @destroyer-of-za-warudo @ratbrainbabycowboyprincess

[ordinarypersoninthisworld]

What have women done ?

Nicholas Fuentes just reminded us all that women are nothing for men.

Your body my choice. I don’t get it. I simply don’t.

What have we done ? What have we done to get century’s of oppression, repression ? What have we done to get raped ? What have we done to get looked down ? What have we done ?

The thing I believe is, if men never needed women we would simply have been exterminated by now. Because how would you explain the oppression, and everything else we endured for centuries?

Nicholas Fuentes mother’s must be so disappointed. Every rapists, pedophile etc mothers must be so disappointed. It’s not your fault unless you taught him those stuff.

Abortion is my right. I’m not ready I get rid of the cell. I don’t have the money I get rid of it. It’s my rapists baby, I’ll have no remorse. You can kill a cell up to 3 months, otherwise the baby gain consciousness. So instead of forbidding it, make a deadline.

Oh and if you ban abortion then the father cannot leave under any circumstances. It’s his baby too and he put his semen into me I didn’t specifically ask for it. If it’s a rapist’s baby then I have the right to give it up for adoption. I didn’t ask for that baby nor do I want to remember for the rest of my life that I got raped. But if I got raped and have his baby you need to either leave it up to him with obligation or put him in jail. So don’t surprise when so much babies are gonna be found abandoned.

All the things that happens to innocent women all over the world just because they are women is the most vile thing in the existence.

Look, in Afghanistan a new law passed. Women cannot talk between themselves. Women lost their voices. Literally. They have to fully cover themselves EVEN the eyes! Yes normally you can show your eyes well they can’t. Why women ? We haven’t done nothing. We haven’t killed no one.

In Japan the sexual assault is so big than the worst tortured in the human existence happened to a girl getting tortured, raped, sexually assaulted and cruelly abused. She just said no. She said no to go out with a guy. You can say no. Every woman would say no if they don’t know you or just don’t want to. You can reject girls but we can’t ? We can’t because we might get tortured and killed ? A woman had sex with a man and when it comes to preliminary, the guy tortured her: he shoved his hand so far he reached her organs and pulled them out of her body. She was still alive. Do you imagine just the slightest bit of terror and absolute pain she must have been in ? Why did he do that? Well she was a woman. A girl got gang raped in India. Why ? She was a little girl. A man raped his daughter more than 200 times got almost no sentences and kept the guard. Why ? She was a girl.

Girls are forced to marry when they have their period, the youngest being 9 in 2024. 9. Let girls be girls. They don’t have to get married to an old sick man. They don’t want to get pregnant, they don’t want to carry babies, they don’t want to have sex, they don’t want to be tied for eternity.

They want to grow up at their pace, they want to experience childhood and believes in unicorns.

Men are not dogs. Because dogs would never do that to you. Men are men. Men are vile, men are repulsive men scared me.

I’m scared of everything. I’m scared when I go to my school, I’m scared when I take the bus I’m scared when I refuse someone on instagram or Snapchat I’m scared when I’m out I’m scared of having a boyfriend I’m scared of having my first time I’m scared of saying no to a man I’m scared of getting assaulted and I’m utterly scared of getting raped. Because I’ll rather die.

My women are scared to. My sisters are scared of you. But my sisters are ready to fight to.

Iranian women are doing it. Keep it up girls, you deserve respect, recognition and rights to.

In Afghanistan, nobody is doing anything. Why ? Because they are women. Let’s be honest, if roles were reversed and it was done to men, many presidents would have done something. I’m scared for them.

In Somalia,(And many other countries still) families practice what’s called Female genital Mutilation (for boys it’s circumscribed ) on little girls. More than 200 million women in the world are victims of those tortures. What’s so different ? Why is it not called mutilated for boys ? It’s simple do the maths. We have holes, Which apparently throughout the humans history was enough to make us lesser bumans.

You can’t retire anything on a man penis except for the skin at the end to prevent them from masturbating.

Well for a woman, you can. But it’s recognized internationally as inhuman and a violation of women rights and health as well as entraining so much complications that a lot of young girls die. It’s usually do with a razor blade that is not sanitary and the women aren’t put in sleep. They cut the clitoris. They retire it. Or they cut the interior lips as well and retire them. Oh and the exterior lips are cut. And then they sew. They sew the holes. If you wanna know what it is google is here.

This is the most intense pain a woman can experience. The genitals parts on both women and men are the most sensitive and endangering parts if someone is of bad intentions.

https://youtu.be/kFpOHYQlz24?si=7i5eKJdbRFdShEkL

Here is a strong woman sharing her story about her experience.

Let’s get back to something softer. Beauty standards.

I don’t know about you reading this but I don’t seem to know of any particular men beauty standards. They don’t have to comform to a certain nose (most of the time) or certain eye shapes and lips.

I guess they are but men are good to create insecurities and unrealistic beauty standards for women. Furthermore there is the whole hourglass body stuff and petite women.

First I think petite women especially used by men is a way of infantilizing a woman to make her look innocent etc and unless you have a fast metabolism or surgery most of the women don’t have a hourglass body. I have a slow metabolism and sports does not work for me. Yet I’m a mid size girl with a fat tummy. I can’t wear crop tops nor any clothes I like because y’all decided I had to look a certain way for that. I have broad shoulder and wide rib cage so im not considered feminine enough. Well fuck you. I’m a woman that’s enough. Some girls are bigger than me and are confident and I envy you and support you so bad. Some girls are thinner than the norm and yet are such pure souls. Some girls are curvy and hate their bodies so bad. And some girls have the perfect body yet would like some more skin. We can never be happy with our body that is the same for everyone. Yet we accept men as they are most of the time. We normalized having a dad body yet when it comes to a woman you can’t have tummy. If you have a dad body that’s okay girl don’t mind but if you have a mom body because guess what you just had a baby . or multiple and have an injury the size of a rounded pillow inside of you you are ugly. You need to get thin you need to have big boobs no stretch marks ! You can’t look like you had a kid because that’s not attractive. Bullshit. You can’t expect a woman to lose weight after having a baby.

Oh and for fucks sake women you don’t have to reserved yourself from a burger. You want to eat it ? Eat it. We don’t care about what men think they eat 3x times the burger!

Plus The mere idea of having a type is just stupid. and if women said they want a certain type that are not the men watching the vids you can expect them to say something like: well we don’t want fat women/ we don’t want full face etc. Like shut up she’s not gonna date you nor are you even gonna meet her in real lifeYou fall in love with personality. And no looks does not matter despite what everybody is trying to say because personality makes you 10x prettier than you are. If you have a shit personality people will avoid you like the plague but if you are nice kind smart etc they tend to find you attractive and prettier than what you already are.

That was a rant about everything I had in mind and probably have A lot of misspelling and mistakes. But I just watch Nicholas Fuentes that little bitch and I hope he gets so injured he’ll get alzeihmer so that someone can re-educate him because he doesn’t seem to respect his mother and every women in his life.

Remember it’s not all men but it’s always a man.

Edit lol

Just saw multiple posts about the new laws that were proposed in Iraq and guess what ? Yes women and little girls are targeted also. I have some posts include bed if y’all are interested

Translation Iraq's justice minister has proposed a controversial law: lowering the age of consent to 9, legalizing marital rape, automatic custody of children for the father, the possibility of divorce from the age of 9 and women will be deprived of inheritance. (The Guardian)

[raenegade-accio]

Beware the following mindless deranged rambling that randomly hit me at 3am, but I can't be the only one who felt this way when playing for the first time...

Not having Officer Singer conspiring with Rookwood was a big fat missed opportunity

And whether it was intentional or not, it was all perfectly laid out for a plot like this since the start!

From her first theatrically heroic appearance in Hogsmeade:

As a Magical Law Enforcement Officer, I assume Singer is equipped with the basic knowledge of evacuation procedures e.g. steeling all persons away from the ongoing threat and ensuring they exit the area safely.

But what did she do instead?

Luring the massive troll into rampaging further into Hogsmeade, leaving a pair of 15-year-olds completely out in the open, vulnerable to new imminent dangers. And sure enough, as soon as MC and Natty/Sebastian were alone, another troll bursted in, mere seconds after Singer left the scene.

What's not to say she was only there to clear of any potential civilian witnesses, using the first troll to scare them away under the guise of doing her job, while the second troll quickly comes crashing in, with MC being served up in a silver platter.

Later we saw Singer comes running back and is understandably surprised to see MC unscathed. We get this strange piece of dialogue:

She didn't bother assessing, or at least securing the crime scene when it's literally the first step to ensure an initial investigation can later be conducted properly. Instead she does the complete opposite by having someone else to practically wipe it clean of anything worth further investigating; there definitely would’ve been debris or bits of damaged armour with lingering traces of dark magic, now all gone. Then she just vanished, leaving a couple of teenagers alone in an deserted area, again.

Later we meet Rookwood for the first time.

From here we learned that Rookwood watched the whole incident unfold, implying he planned to abduct MC at the first chance he got, one which Officer Singer very conveniently provided. The only thing stopping him was seeing the new kid had absolutely Thanos-ed a troll using an unfamiliar form of magic.

And he wasn't exactly discreet either. Rookwood, an infamous criminal gang leaders was allowed to so nonchalantly wander around Hogsmeade in the broad daylight and it was clear he could to barge into public establishments whenever he wanted while openly threatening a pair of minors. A Dark Wizard who was now actively stalking a literal child got to walk away scot-free. Pretty lenient...

At this point it wouldn't be too outrageous to say Singer is systematically participating in organised wizarding crime. Here's an interesting piece of dialogue from Rookwood:

"Favours." now we have proof that Rookwood somewhat has a little power in the Ministry. There could've been a transactional relationship between Rookwood and Singer too.

British policing wasn't exactly well liked; venal and corrupt as it was, elite officers colluding with criminals weren't new.

Assuming it applied to the Wizarding World too.

At the era HL takes place (the 1800s), bribery and cover-ups were daily occurrences, which could garner favours that often came from the very criminals from whom corrupt officers have collected in exchange for "turning a blind eye".

This one's a bit of a stretch to be honest, but it may have explained how Rookwood evidently was able to be as active as he was for "months." And it certainly would make more sense in how Singer maintained keep her position a lawwoman that's reputable and admired by the locals as long as she did despite her blatant inactions, considering the possibilities he helped pulled some strings.

It'd be too easy to claim Officer Singer was never fired simply by theorising the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were as unfit, unintelligent and incapable as the forces from the Victorian Metropolitan Police.

But it's later found out the locals felt very differently:

People trusted her, relied on her. They felt safe whenever she's near and all have nothing but praises for her.

Imagine the potential - the level of public outrage and betrayal - among the common folk, that the person who was supposed to defend them has been aiding the Ashwinders extorting, threatening and bullying them this whole time, possibly allowing said group access to all the needed private information to terrorise them even further (e.g. their names, private residences, workplaces and occupations, and all that of their loved ones, too)

This can easily be backed up by Natty’s questline: A Basis for Blackmail

We meet a few of the victims - targeted by Theophilus Harlow, another notorious Ashwinder leader and Rookwood’s right hand man - most notably Mr Isko Rabe and his wife.

Harlow knew their names, where Mrs Rabe worked (Gringotts), what she and her husband do for a living (bank security and curse breaker) and where they lived (to plant the threatening note and destroy their garden). Both careers are as high profile as they are dangerous, so it’s not surprising Mrs Rabe was approached about extorting the bank itself. What is disquieting was that their private homes were infiltrated a little too easily, especially concerning her husband is a talented curse-breaker.

Interestingly, Mrs Rabe and officer Singer were likely colleagues (as per the cutscene of the first Hogsmeade troll attack, you can see Mrs Rabe following closely behind Singer). Someone with Singer’s position would have all the necessary connections and know-how to learn all she needs to someone of lower rank, especially when divulging them to a powerful gang leader she may had been conspiring with…

—

I got so excited because I was convinced there would be a twist of some sort, where we may get to pull a Houdini or a Scooby-Doo then unmask Singer as another sleazy dark witch that's been undercover and lying to the locals for years, secretly exploiting with Rookwood and manipulating the same people she's meant to protect.

I was so mentally prepared for the scandal, already so gleefully imagining the reactions of the villagers, the teachers or students from the sheer betrayal after speaking so highly of her and putting so much trust in that woman.

Imagine my disappointment when I find that she really was just hilariously incompetent 😂

Shit, even MC themselves pointed this out ( after local businesses were being extorted and a student was just kidnapped by a group of adults:

I can always incorporate this post in the fic, that'd be fun.