#Since he loves cowboys and justice and all that

[revenantghost]

I know we talk a lot about how Knives doesn't seem to be as gentle or kind as his manga counterpart, how he's already a little dark and evil, which is how it seems to be. But this scene in particular makes me wonder if that's just what we're supposed to think. I already made a long post about the unreliable narration in Tristamp, and this scene always strikes me as proof that Knives is not exactly who we've seen him to be in the flashbacks. I think he's a lot more complex.

Because, now? Knives does think he's standing up to the bad guys, but he sure as hell doesn't care about making friends, much less keeping them. He only cares about owning people and hiding his fear and trauma under a strict layer of control.

And this kid? I don't think he's hit his breaking point yet. And I think we'll see more of that in upcoming seasons.

I don't think that now he would consider himself in the role of an angel how Rem means it here, and he's the one that suggests that term

If only Rem didn't let him read the ENTIRE BIBLE AT ONE YEARS OLD, NONE OF THESE PROBLEMS WOULD BE NEARLY AS BAD

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 3

Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.

It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.

You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.

“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.” 

“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.

“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am, too,” you sighed. 

Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.

“Joel,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.

“I need you.”

Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.

“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.

“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.

“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.

Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses. 

Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. 

“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”

“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”

“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Need it!” You cried.

Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.

“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”

“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!” 

“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”

You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.

“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered. 

Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.

“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.

You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace. 

Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”

His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you. 

“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”

You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition. 

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”

Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.

“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.

“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.

You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled. 

“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”

“Thanks, cowboy.”

**

December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.

It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.

“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.

“He’ll love it,” you assured her.

You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.

“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”

Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.

“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”

“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism. 

You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.

“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.

He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.

“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”

You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that. 

Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.

“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly. 

“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”

Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you. 

Of course, you mouthed back.

He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin. 

“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.” 

“Yes, you do,” you responded.

Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you. 

“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”

“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.

“Joel, I—.”

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.

“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”

His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.

“Swear?” You asked.

“On my life.”

Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it. 

“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.

Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin. 

“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”

You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.

“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised. 

“That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms. 

“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”

“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”

You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue. 

He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body. 

Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.

“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.

“I love you, darlin’. Always.”

**

The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands. 

“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.

“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”

“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged. 

“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. 

“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.

“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.

Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.

“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”

“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.

“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door. 

You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face. 

“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss. 

“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt. 

Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.

“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”

“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.

You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.

You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.

Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.

“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”

“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”

“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”

“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”

“Take me home, cowboy.”

You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes. 

“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.

“I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”

[raspberrybesitos]

soft side | joel miller x f!reader

Main masterlist | Palestine

Please take some time to go through the Palestine links. If enjoy my writing, I ask you to help Palestine in any way you can.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2.5k

Summary: You and Joel enjoy a quiet Valentine’s Day.

Warnings: no outbreak AU, pwp, established relationship, fluff, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, cum eating, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), creampie, praise kink, pet names (baby, darlin’, good girl), after care, reader has no description, no mention of hair type/body type/skin color, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: i haven’t written Joel in ages, so i’m a little nervous i can’t lie. i do have a dbf fic in the works for him, but he’s very intimidating since he’s so well-loved. i hope i did him justice 😭 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! thank you for reading! as always, not beta’d - all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

His truck is parked in the driveway. He’s home before you, something out of the ordinary with work being so busy all the time. You park your sedan beside his pickup and gather your belongings before heading to the front door. It’s oddly quiet as you shuck off your boots and toss your keys on its respective hook, save for the record player going in the living room.

Warmth glows throughout the house, painting the walls in a sepia hue.

Sauntering into the dining room, you spot a vase of tulips sitting atop the dining table. A card sits beside it, his chicken scratch scribbled inside.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Thank you for loving me and the girls the way you do. Don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you.

-Love, J”

Your heart flutters at Joel’s sweet message, knowing he isn’t typically one for declarations. Rustling comes from the garage door, Joel trudging in with a bottle of that sweet wine you like.

“Hey, cowboy,” you mutter, grinning ear-to-ear. His head snaps up, a goofy grin crinkling his features. 

“Hey, baby. Didn’t even hear ya come in. How long you been home?”

“Just got in.”

You waltz towards him as he sets the wine down on the table. His arms wrapping around you. 

It’s instinctual.

Slotting your arms around his neck, you meet him halfway into a soft kiss. Melting into him, mindlessly carding your fingers through his hair as you kiss him sweetly, slowly – something you haven’t had a chance to do very often lately. Savoring every bit of him he has to offer.

“Hmm. It’s quiet. What’d you do to our girls, Miller?” You ask against his lips, Joel chuckling into you.

“At the movies with Tommy. Slipped him somethin’ so we could have the house to ourselves tonight. Should be back ‘round 9. ‘S a school night, but just wanted some time with my valentine,” Joel mumbles, his chocolate irises meeting your gaze.

Smirking, you hum in approval. 

“Smart man,” you murmur before crashing your lips against his.

“Mhmm,” Joel agrees as he grins into the kiss. Both of you chuckling at his conniving plan. 

“Missed you, cowboy. I feel like we haven’t had a moment alone in a while,” you utter as he places tender kisses on the column of your throat.

“Mmm. Missed you too, baby. Feel like I haven’t seen ya in ages,” he says into your skin, the two of you mindlessly swaying to the record playing in the living room. Unable to contain your laughter, Joel snaps his head up - his signature scowl returning.

“What’s so funny, darlin’?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Nothing. You’re just… you're so… I like when you’re soft,” you timidly murmur in between giggles. His brows scrunch further, smirk pulled into a thin line.

“Soft? The hell you talkin’ about, darlin’?” Joel asks in genuine confusion.

“It’s not a bad thing, Joel. You’re just… real soft when it comes to me and the girls. It’s sweet,” you explain. He grunts.

Typical Joel.

“Well you three are the only people I care about,” he mumbles, his kisses resuming, nibbling on your neck. He draws out a breathy chuckle from you as your resolve slowly starts to crumble.

“Come on, Joel. I gotta make dinner,” you whisper, no conviction in your voice.

“Mmmm. ‘S alright. Already ordered us somethin’. ‘Sides - rather have dessert right now,” he rasps against your lips before smashing them together again. The kiss grows sloppy, heady, full of tongue and teeth. You moan into his mouth, feeling drunk just off his touch. He cups the back of your head while squeezing your waist with his other hand, leading you out of the kitchen.

“Lemme have my dessert first, baby,” he mutters before dragging you up the stairs. Drunk giggles bubble from your lips as he leads you to your shared room. Flinging the door open, Joel tosses you on the bed, diving into your neck as he litters kisses along your throat. 

He nips at the spot beneath your ear, earning him a breathy moan. Soothing his bite marks with his tongue, he fumbles with the hem of your blouse. He tosses it over your head as you fiddle with the buttons on his flannel. 

His rough hands undo the clasp of your bra, a moan breaching his chest as your breasts spill out of the cups. You slide off his flannel, revealing his taut chest and soft tummy, your mouth waters at the sight of him. Rugged and soft around the edges, you frantically undo his belt. A smug laugh rumbles from his chest.

“Eager now, ain’t ya, baby?” He teases, shucking off his jeans. He visibly twitches in his boxers, a damp spot of precum already leaking through. You palm him through the fabric, Joel groaning at your warm touch. Sitting up on your knees, you snake your hands up his torso and wrap them around his neck, slamming your lips together in another heated kiss.

“Want you in my mouth,” you rasp hungrily.

“Later, baby. Need to be inside you. Gotta get you ready for me first,” he grunts as he throws you back on the bed. In one swift move, he slides your trousers down your legs and discards them on the floor. He groans at the sight beholding him. Your lacey pink thong with a visible wet patch on them. He wildly yanks it off, nearly ripping the lace. 

His lips ghost over your bare sex as he settles in between your legs. He peppers kisses along your thighs, his beard scratching against your skin.

“Joel,” you pant, plead. Your desire grows with every kiss to your thighs. He hums, the vibrations sending another wave of arousal to stick to your panties. His callused hands rest atop your tummy, settling your squirming.

“Joel, please,” your voice barely above a whisper. He laces his fingers with yours before diving in. Drowning in you, he moans at the taste of you. Savoring your tang on his tongue as he licks languid stripes up your glistening folds. Your wanton moans making his cock twitch, boxers growing messier with precum.

“Always taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’. So fuckin’ sweet,” he rasps before suckling your clit between his lips. You keen above him, arching your back into the mattress as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“So fucking good, Joel. Feels so fucking good, oh my god.”

Mouth still wrapped around your precious pearl, he prods a thick finger at your entrance. Your eyes fly open, gasping at the intrusion. His thick, long fingers hardened by a long day at work always hit that spot in a way you never could. He groans as he watches you suck him in, gliding in with ease.

“Joel, oh fuck, Joel. More, please,” you beg, breathless as he brings you closer to your release. He slides in another finger, moaning into you as he watches them glisten every time he pulls them out, squelching around him with every pump. Crooking his fingers deeper, your moans grow pitchier with every stroke as he brushes your g-spot.

He releases your clit from his lips, licking hurried stripes through your folds, slurping up the juices that have pooled at his wrist. 

“C'mon, baby. Can feel you squeezin’ my fuckin’ fingers. Fuck, can fuckin’ hear ya. Let go for me, darlin’. Come on my fingers, baby, let me have it,” he growls before flicking at your clit relentlessly. Your tummy clenches tightly, pressure bubbling over as you gush all over Joel’s mouth and fingers.

He groans as he skyrockets you into orbit. Floating around the sun, your vision burns hot and bright, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Joel hungrily, wildly drinks every drop before licking back up to your clit.

A puddle of your release gathers beneath you, it coats Joel’s wrist as it sticks to your thighs. Whimpering as you return to Joel, he releases your clit from his mouth and greedily licks up your slick from your thighs. Roaming up your body to meet your gaze, he brings two of his fingers to your mouth.

“Open for me, baby,” he snarls. You mindlessly obey, sucking in his slick-soaked fingers with heavy eyes. Moaning around him, savoring the taste of yourself. 

Joel lets out a wrecked moan, his mouth gaping as you suck his fingers clean. Hastily removing them from your mouth, he hurriedly slips out of his boxers and kicks them off to the side. You catch glimpse of him through heavy lids, whining as he pumps himself, precum smeared along his throbbing length through gritted teeth.

You flinch when he lines himself up with your weeping cunt, clit throbbing as your breathing becomes even more ragged. Whimpers and moans reverberate off the walls as he slides home. Fluttering around him as he splits you open, tears prick your eyes. The sting heightens your pleasure. His cock kissing your cervix as you adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck, baby. Always so fuckin’ tight,” he grits, holding his orgasm at bay.

“Y-you’re so fucking big, Joel, holy shit,” you whine, gasping with every word. 

His size is something you’ll never get used to. 

He sloppily slots his lips against yours, the taste of you melding into the kiss. Threading your fingers through his salt and pepper curls, he groans into your mouth as you tug on them. His weight making the pressure in your tummy rise.

“Joel,” you whisper against his lips. He hums, capturing them in his again before you can speak. He smirks as you let out a hmph.

“Move. Please.”

Joel hisses as he slides out of you almost completely, before ramming back into you. Your back arches into his chest, his rough, large hands slitehering to cup the sides of your waist. Pinning you beneath him as he snaps his hips into yours. Nudging at that spongy spot with every thrust.

He’s incredibly deep, fucking an endless stream of whines and moans out of you. Gripping his broad shoulders for purchase, your nails drag down his back. You can feel him twitch inside you, his hips stuttering at the dull sting of your scratches.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had in my life. Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all of me, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. You my good girl, baby? Huh?” Joel babbles, drunk off your pussy.

Your eyes struggle to stay open, every thrust sending you closer to the edge.

“Y-yes, Joel. Your good, fuck, your good girl,” you wail. 

“‘S right. You’re mine. All fuckin’ mine, baby. So good for me. Wanna feel you soak my cock, baby. Come on my cock, baby. Need to feel you."

With no preamble, he brings his thumb to your clit.

“Joel!”

One stroke to your clit catapults you to your orgasm. Stars bursting behind your eyes, dizzy as he fucks into you harder and harder. You feel his cock twitching as he nears his own release.

“Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna take all my cum like a good girl?”

“Yes, Joel! Fill me up! Please! W-wanna feel you dripping from me, please, Joel!” You scream as you ride out your high, tears streaming down your face.

“Fuck!” Joel barks, hips stuttering as he cums hard. Coating your fluttering walls with his cum, his guttural, drawn-out groan echoing in the room. The two of you ride out your highs together, babbling nothing but Joel Joel Joel as the sheets crinkle in your deathgrip.

He collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. He can feel his cum seeping out of your throbbing cunt, but he can’t bring himself to pull out. 

Not yet. 

He catches your lips in a searing kiss, a silent check-in, bringing you back to him as you whine and writhe.

“I got ya, baby. I got ya. So good. Did so good for me,” Joel rasps, voice hoarse and mouth dry.

He slips out of you slowly, reluctantly leaving your warm, wet walls. Your cunt achy and puffy as it gleams in the setting sun that glows through the window. Both of you covered in sweat and sticky with cum.

Laundry definitely needs to get done tonight.

Before he rises from the bed, Joel revels in the sight before him. You swollen, shiny hole weeping with his cum. Diving in, he licks up your folds. A wail bursting deep within your chest as he cleans you up with his skillful tongue.

“J-Joel. Too much, baby. Too much,” you gasp, your clit stinging from the overstimulation. He pulls away, but not before he can stuff two fingers inside your pussy.

“Gotta keep you full of me. Want you to feel me drippin’ outta you tomorrow."

Moaning at the fullness, at his words, you helplessly keen as he shoves his cum back inside you.

“Good girl,” he rasps before slipping his digits out of you, he places a soft lingering kiss to your thigh. Sliding out of bed, he pads into the bathroom. The water runs as you lay sprawled out on the bed, legs like jelly and head spinning.

Returning with a warm washcloth, Joel carefully swipes between your thighs, gently cleaning up the mess you two made. You hum, the warm water soothing your aching legs and cunt.

He tosses the cloth in the laundry basket. Scooping you into his arms, you nuzzle into his chest. Basking in the warmth of his tender embrace. Smiling at the feel of his lips on your head.

“Love you, darlin’.”

Humming against his chest, you bring your eyes to meet his.

“I love you too, Joel. Best Valentine’s Day ever,” you giggle, Joel laughing along with you.

The doorbell rings, Joel sighing at the interruption.

“‘S the delivery guy. Let me go pay him, baby,” he rasps into your hairline, a bratty whine bubbling from your chest.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’, I promise,” he says as he slips from your grasp. Playfully smacking your lips, Joel rolls his eyes, smiling at your antics.

While Joel handles the delivery guy, you get up and strip the bed. Tossing the sheets into the laundry basket, you head into the hall to grab a fresh set. Making the bed with the new sheets, you sigh as you plop yourself on the mattress, snuggling under the blankets.

Joel clambers up the stairs and back into the room, pizza box in hand along with two glasses in one hand, the bottle of wine carefully resting atop of the box.

He sets it down on the dresser, pouring you each a healthy glass. He hands you a slice of pizza along with your wine, graciously thanking him with a smile on your face.

The two of you share the pizza on the bed, sidled beside each other as you debrief your days. As Joel goes for another slice, he stops in his tracks.

“Why’d you strip the bed?”

“Huh?” You ask through a mouthful of pizza.

“Why’d you strip the bed?”

“Oh. Well… it was messy. I thought I’d clean up,” you explain through your muffled mouth.

“And who said I was done with ya, darlin’?”

tag list: @nostalxgic @honeyedmiller @gracieheartspedro @undrthelights @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @morallyinept

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙣 ✿

characters: boothill x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, angst/no comfort, spoilers to his character story, reader death, canon typical violence, blood, death, injury description, slavery mention, reader is a galaxy ranger, reader also has burn scars, some mechanical and medical things might be incorrect

notes: i have been spoiling yall too much with the constant fluff and smut. so here throws this fic into your face. divider from @/cafekitsune. a deep thanks to @theblades for helping me find a way to kill reader off😇

word count: 6.2k words

bright sunlight, gentle breeze ruffling through his bi-colored hair and the soft laughter of children. he loved the days spent at the farm, playing hide and seek with his siblings in the corn field, looking after the animals at the farm and taking some out for a walk. if him and his siblings could be sneaky enough, they will be able to snatch a few of graey’s handmade cookies through the kitchen window before dinner time. if not, they’ll get caught red handed, yet be let off the hook with a few soft pinches to their cheeks and one cookie for each since graey was just that soft.

sometimes, him and nick would ride their horses, wilding through the forests and endless fields to lead their cattle to better water and brilliant clouds. nick would sing loudly and proudly — he always does — and soon, he would join in with his young, soft voice pitching out the same song. nick would laugh boisterously, ruffling his hair and knocking off of his hat in the process. he would whine about it, saying things such as his hat getting dirty and being scolded by graey. nick would just laugh and shrug it off with a “sorry kiddo”.

he loved this place. he loved the corn fields he runs through with his siblings, he loved the loud voice of graey yelling out, scolding the kids as they run off laughing like a bunch of menaces, the oldest holding the box of cookies graey keeps on the highest shelf away from them, he loved the guns that nick would pull out from his old box of tools, teaching him how to properly aim and how to shoot the empty cans placed in the distance. and the excited yell of the other kids when he finally manages to knock one down, making him feel giddy as nick congratulated him on his first shot. after he fully mastered the old handgun of nick and shot down all 5 cans in a row, he was rewarded with nick’s old cowboy sheriff medal. the golden, 5 pointed star was old and looked rusty but to little ol’ him, it was the biggest and most treasured gift he ever got.

little ‘loaded gun’ never separated from that medal. he wore it his jacket ever since nick pinned it there for him, proudly showing it off to his siblings and talking about how he will take after nick and graey’s profession in the future. how he promises to nick and graey that he will make them proud, how he will live up to their expectations and become an even better cowboy.

“you sure will, little partner” nick would always laugh and pat his head, re-adjusting the medal. graey would sigh and roll his eyes at nick’s actions before reminding him that he doesn’t have to choose that life if he doesn’t want to. young ‘loaded gun’ would pout, whining that he wants to.

“but i want to be a cowboy! i want to be like you and nick, taking down bad guys, bringing justice and firing big guns!” he would yell, shooting his arms up in the air and jumping around.

“uh-huh. talk about firing big guns after you lose that lisp of yours” graey would chime in, always quick to reprimand him for his missing tooth and lisp as his hands affectionately smoothen out his messy hair, groaning in defeat as the mess of black and white refuse to be tamed.

“but i already lost it! i’m a big boy now!”

“hey graey! am i a big boy capable of firing big guns now?” were the first words he said as he brought back his first successful bounty. the smell of gunpowder and ash clung heavy to his jacket but he didn’t care. the smaller kids ran up to his sides, asking for upsies while his siblings who had already grown up and decided to stay at the farm pat his back and ruffle his hair with affectionate teasing quips.

he did it. he held his promise and followed in the footsteps of graey and nick, the old rusty gun and the sheriff medal being a motivational tool for him to reach his goal. now, all grown up and a master trickshot amongst the cowboys of aeragan-epharshel, ‘loaded gun’ was ready to aim and fire at anyone who dares to harm the innocents. although it had been years since the last time he saw his parents and siblings, everything about them and the old red barn stayed the same. though, the corn field looked a little bit bigger than he remembered.

‘loaded gun’ had done a lot in his life since becoming a cowboy. from fighting bandits in the dusty fields, chasing thieves at the dangerous cliffsides to having a gun fight against rival gangs. there were many times he had narrowly escaped death, breathed nothing but the metallic scent of blood, death and bullets and he still prevailed. although he had lost friends along this deadly road, he had also gained many.

that night, ‘loaded gun’ sat across his parents, seated amongst his siblings as he recalled tales of his adventures. the warmth of his younger siblings’ hugs, the teasing quips of the elders’ back pats and the proud looks nick and graey gave him — he was sure of it; this place was where he was the most happiest.

so when he found a little figure, wrapped in a measly ragtag of a fabric, crying out and lonely, he knew he had to step in and take in the little one. it’s what was right and what graey and nick would have done. a small bundle, not even a month old was left to fend for herself. ‘loaded gun’ carefully cradled the baby close to his chest, trying his best to soothe her cries as much as he could.

“graey! nick! i need some help here!” and ‘loaded gun’ had become a father.

ever since becoming a father, ‘loaded gun’ has experienced everything that parenthood had to offer. sleepless nights of the baby wailing at an ungodly hour, searching for his comfort and warmth. having to change the baby’s diapers and bathe her. checking the temperature of the milk in the bottle before feeding time — everything parenthood brought him, he took it all in strides and jolly laughs.

sometimes, he would put the baby in a small bucket and take her out on the farm with himself. the little baby would laugh and clap her tiny hand together, big bright eyes unknowing of what was happening as ‘loaded gun’ fails to tame a wild stallion, proceeding to get his ass thrown off of the horse’s back. seeing his little girl so happy, how could he ever stop making a fool of himself? he even went far as to carve out a mini guitar for her after seeing her fascination with his old, weathered one.

“from now on, yer name will be clementine. can’t have my little girl going around without a name, right?” he asks, bringing up the white haired girl into his arms and raising her into the air. clementine only giggles, blabbering some stuff as she laughs at the feeling of being in the air. seeing the baby’s innocent wide eyes staring down at him, head haloed by the high sun, ‘loaded gun’s grey ones soften as a teary smile forms on his face. the scars on his hands remind him of his profession and dangers of being a cowboy, but in his heart, he swore that he will keep his little girl safe and to be the best father he can be.

“my little clementine…”

gone... it was all gone.

the corn fields where he used to run through with his siblings when they were young, the old red farm that was in the middle of being repainted, the comfortable warm yet dingy house that him and his family used to live in — it was all gone. the scent of sulfur and burnt bodies hung in the air, ash raining from high above like it was some sort of a rain, turning his already dirtied and burnt clothes into black. there was no sign of nick, graey, his siblings nor the panicked farm animals.

little clementine... where was she? aeons, you can do anything you want to him but please spare his little girl, please by some blind miracle, let little clem be alive. he won't care what he has to do or which burning log he has to push away with his bare hands, just let him hear the sound of his little girl's cries to let him know that she's still alive and he'll do it. he'll do anything to save his little girl.

running through the scorched earth, 'loaded gun' calls out for his family. nick, graey, his siblings and even by their childhood nicknames. clementine, where was clementine, where was his baby girl? his little girl, where—

small red scarf and a burnt mini guitar. that was all he had managed to dig out from the burning farm house of his home. that was all he had left of his little girl, the red scarf that was the same copy of his own and the hand carved guitar with its strings plucked due to the heat of the bomb. those two things were the only things he brought with himself as he travels through the vast galaxies, searching a certain doctor who had made themselves into a cyborg successfully.

on the kingdom of bandits, talia, did he found the doctor. heart heavy, eyes full of vengeance and burnt hands holding onto the strap of his bag that had his little girl's memoirs. the doctor tried to persuade him into thinking over his decisions again, to woo him into staying as a human and not to lose said humanity. but 'loaded gun' was steadfast in his decision. if he wanted to stay as a human, he would have already thrown his body into the fires that engulfed his home.

with a deep sigh and slight reluctance, the doctor fulfilled his wishes. blue colored blood being pumped into his new metal body, no longer warm, scarred flesh but rather a clean plated metal being wired into place. at least his head was kept intact. after everything was over and he regained consciousness, he simply thanks the doctor and leaves his payment on the operation table full of his former human blood mixed with his new cyborg blue ones. he didn't wanted to look at the walls or the floor — it was covered in filthy purple liquids.

"before you leave, will you at least tell me your name?"

"... it's boothill now"

"well, good luck with your hunt mr.boothill"

it has been... how long now? boothill doesn't know. since his 'rebirth' as boothill, he has spent so much time traveling from one world to the other, destroying one ipc ship to the next. it has been a bit too long in his opinion, as the destruction of his home planet has stopped being brought up as the latest hot topic at every bar or saloon he visits. or maybe they never talked about it to begin with. the ipc had friends and slaves everywhere, at every branch or organization or world, boothill wouldn't be surprised if they had ended up covering their filthy work by masking it as an another 'horrific accident that befell a poor world before we could save them' type of thing. the ipc were amazing at their manipulation after all.

"those ipc folk sure have been having some hard time since your sudden emergence huh, cowboy?" a voice rings out to his left, a body covered in a bright red coat sitting down beside him at the bar. gesturing to the bartender, he watches from the corner of his eyes as you order a glass of earl grey and marmalade cooler with extra ice. boothill doesn't know this stranger draped in red was nor did he care. but judging by the way you easily knew of him as the latest troublemaker against the ipc, you have probably heard of the bounty on his head or you just travel the galaxies a lot. or it could be both at the same time.

turning his head just a little bit more towards the side, he looks you up and down, trying to see if there are anything that makes you stand out in any form of way. anything to hint at what or who you were.

old, faded, long, red coat left open at the front, smart by the way you have easily deduced he was a cowboy by just his accessories and clothing alone and ordering anon-alcoholic drink despite having set foot inside a bar and took a seat beside him. he can't see any weapons on your body at the moment and your red coat was covering most of your body too. he'll just have to go in blindly then.

"done checking me out, cowboy?"

by the time he had finished assessing you and had looked up to see your face, you were already staring at him with a nonchalant smirk on your face. for some odd reason, boothill could feel his cheeks heat up and wires zap inside his metal body. there was just something about the way that you easily teased him and wasn't ashamed to hold an eye contact with his target shaped pupils that got him feeling weirdly self conscious. had he forgotten to shine the metal plates of his body today? was his revolver still in place, shiny and strong? what about his bullets? his hat? his hair? oh what if he smelled? can cyborg bodies have any odor to begin with—?

"come on now, don't look away from me. i was talking to you" he could hear you coo out, your hand coming up to turn his chin so you could look at his face. the warmth of your hand touching the only leftover human part of his, the laidback confidence you had in your own self, it all got boothill letting out a steam from his ears like a cartoon character as he quickly turns away from you, his hand pulling down his hat to save whatever tiny drops of image he had.

what a shame, turning into a flustered mess like a high school girl talking to her crush by just the smallest amount of flirting he received. where was his class? his sarcastic remarks? the sassy quips and bites he gives to those who touched him? his tongue felt heavy, cheeks felt like they were on fire and he could just hear the gears inside his body shifting and turning at an uncomfortably fast pace that made him feel like he was overheating. or maybe he truly was overheating. darn, he should visit the doctor again to get some certain things removed.

"a-ahem, didn't yer' parents teach you it's not okay to flirt with strangers at a bar?" curse him for stuttering over his words, he was supposed to appear cool not like a teenager boy dammit! and the way your lips curled upwards even more at the tripping of his words wasn't helping. well he'll be damned, you have a smile that cowboys would kill each other for.

"i'm [name], a galaxy ranger. and you are, dear cowboy?"

idiot cowboys like him would kill each other for.

"name's boothill, sugar"

it has been exactly 2 years and 4 months since boothill first met you and was introduced to a faction called the galaxy rangers. apparently, galaxy rangers are a voluntarily formed group that follows the teachings of lan, the hunt and carries out acts of service, upholding peace and justice. some galaxy rangers are a bit ruthless in the ways they deal with the injustice that happens at some worlds or galaxies, some are a bit more diplomatic, some travel in groups of friends and colleagues while some travel alone.

you were once the latter one; a galaxy ranger that travelled the cosmos alone, a bright red shooting star that shine and never fade till the break of day, bringing hope and destruction at once. were; because it has been precisely 2 years and 4 months since boothill has started to travel alongside you. he had decided to become a galaxy ranger, the voluntary group's ideals appealing to his own sense of vengeance and justice that he wishes to bring to a certain group.

"boothill, it's time to wake up" you call out, having always been the early morning bird out of the two of you. walking towards the bedside of the asleep cowboy, you poke at his eyebrows and nose, pushing his lips into random emotes, snorting at the slight hint of drool on his lips. despite having an all metal body, the cyborg was still very human at heart. you've seen the way he helps the elderly cross the roads, entertaining the kids of your stop of the day by teaching them how to properly hold a gun or to shoot one, how he pets a stray dog or a cat, how he sits down at the bar with you after a successful mission, a guitar in hand as he starts to sing in an unfamiliar language. how he looked sad as he regularly cleans the sheriff medal on his jacket, how he stares at a certain picture that he keeps in his jacket pocket.

or even the ways he calls out to a little girl with white hair, addressing her as "clementine", before apologizing and patting the girl on the head to say "be careful, kid". you've seen it all, or what you like to think of as all of boothill.

"fuck meeee, it's still early dawn sugar" the cowboy groans out, voice groggy due to his voice bank having been on resting mode and just restarted. reaching an arm out, he manages to grab a hold of the back of your shirt before you could escape, pulling you down onto his bed as you let out a shriek. grunting at your flailing limbs and attempts to escape his clutch, he only tightens them, climbing on top of you with a cheshire grin on his face.

"that's what ya' get for trynna wake up a cowboy, sugar. ya' get put in time-out" boothill grins at the red of your cheeks from laughing too much, a surprising flare of cuteness aggression coming over him as he leans over your face to gnaw at your cheeks with his shark-like teeth.

"on-nom nom nom nom nom, i'm gonna eat up yer' mochi cheeks, sugar!" the cyborg says, making an overdramatic munching noises as he gnaws the sharp edges of his teeth over the soft fat of your cheek. you could only laugh, throwing your legs back and forth as you try to escape his hold.

"boothill! you're a whole damn 700 kilogram of pure metal alone, get off of me!" you shriek out when the mischievous cowboy starts to gnaw on the skin of your neck and chin, akin to a baby kitten throwing a temper tantrum. as if to spite you, he only rolls his body over yours more, squishing you flat down onto the bed with a menacing laugh.

it was usual to start the day like this between you and boothill. he was not a morning person, you were and usually you would have to end up paying for being the early bird as he squishes your body flush against his own metal one. sometimes you two would end up just falling back asleep, with you being held hostage in boothill's grasp and boothill comfortably squeezing his face into your body. sometimes, you two would end up like this, just laughing and having a harmless prank time together. other times, you two end up with a bunch of ruined pillows, the feathers dancing in the air as you try to get at least a hit on him. but somehow, boothill was always better than you when it came to pillow fights.

"now what happened 'ere, sugar?" you could hear boothill ask, finally managing to get a deep breath in as he finally lifts away some of the weight he had on you. a cold, hard metal tenderly ghosts over where your neck and shoulder met, over the old burn scar you had. oh right, you forgot of that little fella there.

"ah, that. it's just some old burn wound from one of my earlier days as a galaxy ranger. there's nothing to worry about, don't worry" you hum, bringing a hand up to run through his mess of a bi-colored hair. his hair was always a mess no matter the circumstances, it was honestly a wonder how he doesn't have urges to cut his hair short. not like you were complaining, the long hair suited him perfectly and you wouldn't want him to change his looks.

as you lay there on the hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling, thinking over where to go next or what route you two should take during this next new mission of yours, boothill was busy remembering an old memory. an old memory that he wished to forget so vehemently.

red and orange — that was all he could smell all around him. the burnt down farm that was in the middle process of being renovated, the burnt carcasses — it wouldn't be right to call them carcasses, there was nothing much left remaining to even properly call them as that — the corn fields burning down. sulfur and death — that was all 'loaded gun' could smell as he dug into his burning home. the heat that scorched his face or licked away at the skin of his hand didn't bother him. all he wanted to do was to find his daughter, his little girl, his little clementine. please, let her be alive by some miracl—

"boothill?" your voice echoed in his head, snapping him back from the dreaded memory lane he accidentally made a trip down towards. looking up at your face, he could see the furrowing of [c] brows over your [c] eyes as they stared at him with so much concern, affection, wonder and care. he takes in the details of your face as his breath gets stolen, seeing the way the [c] locks circled around your head as you reflected the perfect image of what he thinks aeons looks like. by the mighty aeons, you were gorgeous. and how his breath is found once again as you run a hand through his hair, blunt nails lightly scratching at his scalp. you stole his breath away as easily as breathing it back into him.

leaning close into you, he felt the way your breaths mingled with his own, how if he were to try and reach out, he could feel your body heat against his only remaining body like an anchor, like a long awaited lover returning home. there was warmth in your eyes that was missing in his cold, metal body. humane marks that was reflected onto his own vibranium plates that tried to imitate human flesh. there was humanity in you that boothill feared he lacked in himself.

"[name]... i want to taste your lips" boothill breathed out before he could even catch whether he was imagining his words or was outright saying it. and he did get what he politely asked for, your split lips connecting with his own intact ones. he tasted life that he was sure that he had lost on your lips, a memory of something old and tender that had been burned away in the fires that scorched his home and your body. he felt something move and beat rhythmically within the confines of his gears and wires, convinced that he had somehow, by some way regained his heart. regained his human body. regained his humanity.

you breathed life into him and he found himself asking for one more when your lips left his own, and one more, and one more. and one more.

"boothill, when was the last time that you went to the doctor to have your body checked over?" you say, turning your attention away from sharpening your sword to his body. even from such distance, you could see some screws getting a bit looser, some little wires or the ends of wires peeking out from behind the plates of his body. from what you could remember, the last time your partner had told you of going to the doctor to have himself checked over was... perhaps a year ago.

as galaxy rangers, you two now constantly get into fights and battles. especially with the ipc as the corporation has added you to their list of wanted figures besides boothill's growing dead or alive bounty. in an order to be ready for any ambush or unplanned fights that may take place, you and your partner must be ready for any sort of fight that may come your way. which also means making a trip to the kingdom of bandits and thieves, talia, a bit often to see the doctor.

something that boothill insists doesn't have to be done after every fight or to have you follow him. the cyborg insists that it's for your own safety but you know that he just doesn't want you to see him being taken apart and put back together again like... like he has lost his own sense of self. despite his flair and bright smiles, you always knew that boothill had a deep sense of problem with his body. you know, since you were always the one to collect his breaking consciousness into your awaiting warm arms to place him back together again. peace by loving peace, you were akin to a warm candlelight that soothed his worries and shooed away any fears that might dig its claws into his wires.

"uhhh... dunno sugar. maybe a year? or even over a year ago..." the cowboy replies, looking up from his own weapon that he was cleaning. seeing your eyes narrow at him and shoulders become stiff, boothill quickly places down his revolver, waving his hands as a form of self defense from your already approaching lecture.

"h-hey hey hey! but don't worry, i'm genuinely doing fine, sugar! if anything, it should be nagging you for not resting and properly taking care of that shoulder wound!" the cyborg was quick to defend himself, instead pointing a finger towards your direction. more specifically, your shoulder.

"it's just a small cut, boothill! i've already gotten it cleaned and wrapped in bandages" you raised your arms in a surrendering motion, now taking on the side to defend yourself from his words.

just as boothill was about to retort back with something smart-mouthed, you two suddenly fall silent as the familiar sound of the heels of an eerily familiar corporation uniform resounds in the hallway boards of the inn. those footsteps and the light click! clack! of their weapons told you two everything you needed to know. silently, boothill puts on his hat, reloading his revolver at a terrifyingly fast pace. meanwhile, you shrug on your signature red coat, newly sharpened and cleaned blade ready to slice through the ipc's weapons.

waiting patiently behind the doors of your inn room, you two wait with bated breaths until a very quick clicking of the door opening is heard. before the door could even creak open on its old hinges, boothill has already taken the first shot. without needing for words to talk about tactics or which side to take, you rush out, the sharp edge of your blade cutting through the ipc's every weapons. behind you the sound of gunshots and bodies hitting the floor follows.

it was simple, really. you disarm the ipc and boothill takes care of the rest. surrounded at all sides? you will always take the east side while boothill takes care of the ones on the west. and if there's a ew weapon or a surprise in your way, boothill will just blast it high into the sky with his arm canon and you can make the rest of them into thin noodles at record time. a deadly duo you two were, gutsy as you stood against the ipc in its whole with no fear, only excitement at what new weapon you'll come across or who could get more hits in. perhaps that's precisely why the ipc decided to send battalion after battalion after you two this time. perhaps it was the bounties on your head that caused the inn owner to betray your trust and rat you two out.

either way, nothing could exactly stop in your way. weapons cut, guns exploded due to bullets meeting inside the hole, armories torn apart and ipc managers blasted. there was nothing that could stand against a hurricane of two galaxy rangers. a red coat flashing past the ipc, a grey shine that took down a panicking soldier standing kilometers away. but there was a little problem. boothill's loose wires had connected with the wrong ones, causing him to stay in his lock 'n loaded state. target shaped pupils now bright red with the grey of his irises now bright red that perceived all those with a weapon as an enemy.

after the final ipc manager fell apart in a heap of metal and wires, you heard the sound of a gunshot still being fired towards the west. was boothill ambushed? was he okay? rushing over to where the sound is the loudest at, you couldn't help but gawk at the state of the corpses and remains of some of the robots. the large gaping holes were not normal, if anything it looked more like a canon bullet with how the entry holes were bigger and the exit holes were smaller. why was boothill using his arm canon at every chance he got? what was happening?

"boothi-!" a bang rings out just as you make it to where the gunshot was the loudest, bullet wizzing past your ear, nipping at the shell of it. the wound left ringing in your ear as you hold up a hand to cover the injured ear, looking on in fear as the red iris and white pupils of your partner looks straight back at you. you could see your own reflection in his eyes and boothill didn't look happy to see you.

eyes that used to stare at you with fondness and sea of affection now stared dead into your own pupils as if you were an enemy. a threat.

"whatcha' lookin' at, scum? come on, let's see ya' dance" this was not your boothill, this wasn't your beloved, this wasn't the same sweetheart whose eyes turn into heart shapes every time your own gaze meets his. this was not boothill.

dodging a bullet by a mere graze, you duck behind an overturned table. shit, think [name], how do you get him out of that state? you briefly remember him telling you that he briefly goes into lock 'n loaded state when he has a stand-off duel. but what more? he was locked in that state of his, ready to kill anyone that comes close. do you have to duel with him to make him snap out of it? but you don't know how to shoot a gun.

but... what if it doesn't have to be a gun duel?

"hey!" you call out, sliding on the floor to hide behind another chair that was flipped over when the canon bullet of boothill shoots through your old coverage with no mercy. "how about a duel, cowboy? you think you can be a faster draw than me?" you can hear his gun click, knowing that now he needs at least a few seconds to reload. maybe 5 seconds at best, boothill was fast in his reloading. you hear a soft scoff as you hear his gun open, the soft clanks of his bullet entering the cylinder resounding in the empty room. one, two, three -- all six bullets in and the soft clink of the hammer of his revolver releasing indicated that boothill was ready for a draw.

"hah, what do you think, sweet cheeks? think you can keep up with me?" you can just hear the taunting in his voice, goading you to make the first move. deep breath in and out, your hand holding the sheath of your sword, ready to draw. silence takes over the room as you speedrun any plans or ideas to catch him off guard. any idea to make him snap out of it. you can be the faster draw but that won't promise you a win if your life is going to be lost.

a steady hand is what you need. just a steady hand to knock some sense back into boohtill... a steady hand to knock some sense.

"come on, fucker. what's taking ya'—" the table he thought you were hiding behind is abruptly flipped over towards boothill, taking him by a sliver of surprise before he aims and pulls the trigger. once, twice and the table was split into half. a chair was next, a single explosive bullet causing the woods to splinter and cover your form as you dash through the room, straight at him.

"'atta you fuckhead! packing some guts, i see!" boothill laughs, aiming straight at your head and pulling the trigger. the bullet doesn't hit, you managed to draw your sword in time to cut it in half. a grin matching the sense of a maniac high spread across boothill's face at the clinking of the two bullet pieces hitting the floor. all you had on mind was to get near him at this moment, nothing else. another bullet is fired, getting cut apart in the middle before his revolver joins, being split apart by your expert swordsmanship.

close enough, you can do it, you can snap him back into his senses.

the sound of broken revolver and dulled blade hitting the floor is disregarded the moment you lean in close to him, hand raised, fist reared back, ready to knock some sense into him. at the same time, boothill's left arm raises towards your abdomen. time seemed to slow and all you had in mind was to deliver a sharp knuckle sandwich.

BANG! CRACK!

your sharp punch landed straight across his face, making his hat drop to the ground. if this was any other bar fight, you would have laughed in his face as you witness his red iris turn grey again, paired with the signature marksman symbol pupils. you did it, your plan worked and boothill was back. when you wanted to point at his face and scold his ears off, all you managed was a weak wheeze. strange...

the world spun around you, the horrified face of boothill catching your attention alongside the sharp pain at your side. you didn't even knew that you fell to the ground as boothill cradles you up into his arms, holding you like how he always does as his metallic fingers gently hold your cheek. his mouth was moving, bi-colored hair falling like a curtain over you two as if to keep this moment hidden from the prying eyes of the corpses in the room.

what was he saying? there was a permanent ringing in your ears and you couldn't be more annoyed about the timing of something more than now. you wanted to listen to his voice, the gentle rasp as he apologized for now listening to you, the hidden tenderness as he calls you an idiot for getting too close to him. breathing became harder for you, black dots appearing in your vision, hindering you from seeing the way boothill was desperately holding you tight against his body. you must have hit your head pretty heard when you fell.

"... i told you... to have yourself checked o.. ver..." you barely manage to say, your voice dying in your throat as you try to talk to him. shaking hand comes up to cradle his cheek, trying to wipe away the tears that streaming from his grey eyes. why was your hand bloodied? it left stains on your dear boothill's cheeks and he will surely complain about it as he tries to wipe it away with his own metallic ones like a cat. you felt cold from the inside, you couldn't move your legs and even holding up your hand felt like a chore.

perhaps a nice rest will help you relax and gain your strength back. and when you wake up again, you will be back in the inn's room, your favorite cowboy by your side, clinging to you like a lifeline as he snores open-mouthed, wiping his drool all over your shirt. when you wake up again, your favorite cowboy won't be covered in blood. when you wake up again, there won't be this annoying sharp sting at your side that felt like your whole intestines were spilling out.

"sugar...? sugar, no, don't close your eyes! [name] wake up!" boothill yells, shaking your bloodied body as he tries to make you regain consciousness. you can hit him all you like, put pink ribbons in his hair, steal his hat, scold him for all you want, just please don't close your eyes. please don't fall asleep. please, don't leave him alone.

"... i'll get lost again if you leave me..." there was no pulse. your body was cold already. and the cyborg wished he could cry again. at least one last time.

[byuntrash101]

lovers on the sun

reader x dom!mingi ft. yunho angst | smut | mdni 4.8k you never understood why mingi chose that life. chose to be an outcast, a loveless bandit. over the years you came to terms with it. you got married, you grew. but when the outlaw finds himself gravely wounded his instincts drag him back to you. to the person he's willing to sacrifice everything for. nsfw tags under the cut

plot, outlaw!au, friends to strangers to lovers (?), hurt/comfort (the hurt part doesn't go too hard dw), a lil' angsty but lowkey wholesome, cheating, mutual pinning, good ending, yunho is mentionned but does not appear. nsfw: nipple play, body whorship (f), pet names (baby, doll) oral (f), slight begging, unprotected sex (i mean they didnt have a choice back then), mingi in the cowboy hat and leather coat (im weak for him </3), big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, cock warming, he's madly in love with you

playlist: jeannette - el muchacho de los ojos trites, david guetta - lovers on the sun, amy whinehouse - love is a losing game

a/n: thank you so much @ssaboala for hosting this amazing collab. and thank you @hwaightme for helping me so much and brainstorming ideas. also i really recommand you listen to the playlist it will for sure put you in the nostalgic western mood <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

You can’t help but be worried as you wake up to a cold bed. You haven’t seen Yunho in a couple of days. You wonder if he’s fine as you look out the window of your room to the cornfields. It’s just after dawn but the hot summer air is already laying heavy over the fields, making the green and yellow stems undulate. 

You sigh heavily, imagining your husband on his horse in his uncomfortable and sweaty uniform combing the streets, the plains, the fields, the whole town, the whole state, maybe even the whole country. All of that on an empty stomach and sleep deprived.

But you knew he wasn’t going to come home before he caught him. Song Mingi. Ever since he was appointed sheriff it has been his life goal to catch him. The public enemy number one. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much blood this man had on his hands. He pillaged and robbed and murdered. Always slippery like an eel and managing to get out of justice’s grasp.

Until a couple of days ago where he made a fatal mistake. Your husband jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and mobilized the entire department to look for the man. He was hurt and hiding somewhere. He only needed to be found. The dangerous outlaw reduced to a defenseless flower only waiting to be plugged. This time he knew he was done for and Yunho was going to finally catch him and bring him to justice and ultimately to the gallows. Where your husband thought the fugitive’s righteous place was. Behind the church and six feet under.

You chuckled humorlessly to yourself at the name. You used to know this name. You used to know it very well. Or at least you thought you did. You used to be close to Song Mingi. The three of you were. Mingi, Yunho and you. You were just a bunch of teenagers, you didn’t have a worry in the world. But you grew up and Yunho joined the force as Mingi did and you can only guess power got to his head. He eventually got caught involved in shady business with even shadier people. Until he left and became the fugitive. The outlaw you only knew by the wanted posters put up everywhere in town.

His name lost all familiarity. But your heart couldn’t forget about his soft half smile. About the warmth pulling in his orbs when the three of you stayed up in the hill to watch the stars, sleeping under the open night sky, despite the snakes and coyotes. Even the crackling fire couldn’t rivalize with the blaze of his sharp eyes on you. You couldn't forget his rough hand snaking its way on your nape, pulling you closer to lay the gentlest kiss on your lips. You nervously glanced over at Yunho sleeping next to the both you. You felt nervous even if this happened long before you got married, long before he confessed to you. And for Mingi there was not a trace of doubt on his sharp features, no evil in his eyes. Only love. You thought at least.

That was the very last night you saw him. The next day he fled to the valley and proceeded with his life of crime. Your heart ached again, how could he have chosen that life… over what he had. Why would he choose a blood stained pile of shriveled dollar bills instead of this night on the hills with you… instead of this kiss? Instead of you?

You shook your head trying to forget about the uncomfortable feeling of your skin crawling as the wholesome memory turned into bitter dormant ache. You have accepted it over the years. Truth was you never knew Song Mingi… You only knew about the sheep but never about the wolf.

But then again you have to get on with your day, and carry on. Life goes on and doesn’t wait. You have to take care of the animals in the barn.

Since Yunho was the town’s sheriff earned enough money for the both of you it wasn’t necessary for you to have a huge farm. A couple of pigs, some hens, two horses and a cow was well enough and tending to them was the only labor you ought to do. 

You traded your nightgown for a dress more appropriate to work in. A light blue flowy ankle length dress with long sleeves and a high neckline that was going to protect your skin from the hot sun, but would still let you breathe through the light material.

You hoped in your worn out brown leather ankle boots and headed to the barn. First of all, you start by checking if the hens laid eggs, you gently push the chickens to harvest the six eggs and place them in your basket that you set aside then you go to feed the cow. You go to take a big serving of hay and you make a mental note that you’ll have to go by the neighboring farm and purchase some more because you are running out. Maybe the cow and horses have been especially hungry lately. 

You place the hay in the big manger and head to the fence to let the cow take a stroll in the prairie next to the house. 

As you reach out the fence, you nearly scream. The handle is covered in blood. The colors leave your face as you realize that the traces are fresh as you see one single drop on the dusty floor. You squint and realize there’s a trail of blood going out the barn. You follow the trail circling the barn and landing behind it, the trail disappearing behind tall weeds and bushes that you had left unattended for quite a while.

You pushed aside the leaves and discovered some rags maculated with blood and at the end of the trail a man, lying, his back resting against a small trunk, sitting on a pile of hay. Barely holding off.

Mingi didn't even know why he dragged his mutilated body out here to rot in the sun, he didn't know why he took that chance. He just had to. If he wasn't going to see the sun rise again tomorrow then he at least wanted to see it set on a familiar face. A face he held in his memory so dearly. Even after all these years. 

After all this time, when he finally sees it, the face he pulled through thick and thin for. Your face. Your face emerging from the bushes. There are not enough words in the world for him to express the relief he feels. He doesn’t have enough time to carefully curate them and voice them outloud. So he only chooses to smile.

You, on the other hand, felt your heart jumping in your throat, the frantic muscle getting stuck there, making you swallow thickly as your eyes grow in surprise. You have trouble believing your senses. Have you stayed in the sun for too long? Have you contracted yellow fever? Can you trust your eyes, reflecting this image of the past? A figure you thought (and maybe even hoped) you would never see again?  But you know your eyes aren’t deceiving you the second his lips curl into a half smile, rounding up only one of his cheeks. The familiar sight takes you back to the hills, to the crackling bonfire, to the starry sky, to the warmth of his orbs. Even if you see the red tint of diluted blood on his teeth and the way pain twits his eyebrows. It’s the same. The same smile you remembered.

“Mingi?” you finally breathe out, broken voice hindered by your heart still sitting in your throat. Barely audible. But still heard by the beaten man. 

“Hi doll” his deep voice echoed yours, hardly louder than a whisper. 

There’s no resentment, no hatred, no evil in his voice, in his eyes. And for that instant you forget about the endless tales of horrors, about the murders and the blood and you forget about the wolf. Because you see only the sheep, hurt and needing your help.

You throw yourself on your knees next to him, you wrap your arms around him, careful to avoid the wounds. 

Mingi closes his eyes and you lean against him as he suppresses a cough. He almost forgot about the smell of your hair, about the warmth of your hands, about the sound of your voice. Almost, but he didn’t. He could never even if he tried. He could lose everything but you. And if you were only a memory then it was all he needed.

***

You brought the man inside, limping and leaning on your side. You sat him in the wooden and creaking chair of the dining room. The tall man grunted as he settled down.

You kneeled next to him. And very carefully, you lifted his long leather coat to uncover the blood maculated shirt.

"So... How does it look doc?" Mingi joked, even going as far as to lightly chuckle before the sharp pain on his side wiped the half smile off his face.

"Let me help you" you said, carefully peeling the fabric off, the coagulated blood stuck to the opened wound, making Mingi wince as he felt the air blow on his sweaty skin. You ran your finger across his skin, carefully avoiding the wound.

Your touch was so soft, so gentle. Mingi sighed, closing his eyes. Your tenderness almost making him forget about the pain jabbing him. It's been so long, so so long since Mingi has felt this. He hasn't felt a soft touch in a lifetime, a contact that was free of any kind of aggression, that didn't demand anything from him, that only intended to soothe him.

It's been so long since he's felt safe.

That was the word. He felt safe. Safe with you even though he was half naked, wounded and unarmed. He felt safe.

You took your time to treat the wound, cleaning it with what you had on hand, which was the rest of a bottle of home distilled bourbon, warm water and clean rags. You patched him up and handed him his hat back.

"You should go, Mingi" you started after a long silence. You tried to conceal the lump inside your throat as you enunciated the heavy words.

Mingi looked up at you, grabbing his hat. He didn't want to go.

"Y/n.. I-"

"You know he might come back. If he finds you here he's gonna..." you hesitated. “Finish the job”

"You mean kill me?" Mingi looked you dead in the eye, a coldness laying latent in his orbs, a coldness that gave you shivers along your spine even with the hot sun heating up the windows of the small dining room.

You closed your eyes shut trying to chase away tears. After all these years and all he’s done. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

Mingi wanted to scream. Why did he get to be with you, to touch you, to lay next to you every night while he was perpetually running, fleeing and living on the edge of the world like a wild dog. Barely surviving on the sole memory of you and the love he felt and feels for you.

"Mingi..." you started hesitantly. You had the chance to ask now, maybe this opportunity would never represent itself again.

"Why did you kiss me that night?"

Mingi’s anger evaporated into smoke as his eyes snapped to you. For all these years he had feared you somehow resented him. That somehow the tales of his life came back to you and poisoned your heart. He feared that you too saw him as the bandit, the outlaw he had become. But there was no hatred in your quavering voice, no bitterness pooling in your orbs. Only incomprehension and sorrow. 

Your eyes were glazed over by a sheen of budding tears, drooping in sorrow and you looked up intensely at the man. 

You waited for an answer, you waited long enough, you waited for years. And waiting again for those few seconds was too much.

“Why did you kiss me if you were going to leave me Mingi?” this time you called his name. And Mingi felt like the question had wrapped around his heart and was holding it tightly, squeezing it until the agonizing organ gave out.

“What did he tell you?” Mingi finally spoke, tipping his cowboy hat down, making sure to conceal his face.

“What?”

“What did Yunho tell you?” Mingi reiterated, this time his voice broke, echoing the shattering of his heart.

“I-” you started, stuttering.

“I never did any of those things, y/n” he finally rips the hat off his face, the disheveled and sweaty hair adding a layer of urgency to his state of despair as he raises his voice in frustration. “Yunho planted the evidence! He framed me! Because he couldn't stand that I was to become sheriff, he wanted to control the city, he wanted the power and he wanted… you…”

Mingi took a deep breath, his voice softening to a whisper. “He wanted you for himself. Because that night I-... I-” Mingi hesitated as you hung on his lips. “I wanted to marry you, y/n.”

You felt the blood vanish from your face. You became livid and your vision blurred, your world was crumbling before your very eyes.

“This is impossible” you whispered more to yourself than anything else.

“In the morning I told Yunho that I had kissed you and wanted to marry you and he couldn't bear it. So he framed me as a bad man to get me out of your life. I ain't no saint! I know! But the rest of it, I only did because I needed to survive. I stole to feed and killed to defend myself. Never in cold blood. Y/n, you have to believe me!”

Mingi’s words were mushing together barely making any sense in your ears that were already rigging, you felt dizzy, you felt ill. How could that be the man you married? The man you shared your life with. The man that looked at you with the most innocent big round eyes. The man that you knew cherrich justice above all else, so much that he didn’t care that sword of justice he was wielding struck his best friend because he was led astray and that was the treatment reserved for criminals. 

But that was all an act. It was never about righteousness and justice, it was about vengeance and envy.

Your knees gave out and you stumbled onto Mingi’s chest. He caught you in time, wrapping his strong arms around you, grunting as you pressed your weight onto the fresh wound. 

Your life was collapsing. Your chest started to heave up and down rapidly, your heart racing as your reality faded to black. Nothing to anchor yourself to. Nothing real, nothing you could hold on to to keep yourself afloat. Only lies and smoke. And you fell and fell into panic and into Mingi. 

Suddenly you were back again, back from the darkness and you looked at him to find your peace again, both lost in this familiar silence. He protectively wrapped his strong arms around you, and soothingly pressed your head against his chest, the leather of his long coat brushed against your cheek as Mingi held you just like that. He felt his warmth, you heard his heart beating against his ribs and you felt… him. Not the outcast, not the outlaw, but just your friend Mingi.

Ever so gently, with a softness you had never ever known from a man, even your husband, he wrapped his hands made rough from labor around your chin and gently lifted your face upwards, you found that Mingi’s eyes were as deep as the sea, just as mysterious and alluring, strangely welcoming.

And slowly, very slowly Mingi closed the distance between you. Giving you all the time in the world to voice your desire for him to stop if you felt that way. But you didn't want him to stop, instead you gripped at the long coat tighter, somehow afraid that he too was a mirage, a body made of haze that was just another lie. You had to make sure he, at least, was real. True.

And he was.

When your lips connected you felt as if your body has gone up into flames, open fire bursting from your chest to your heart, convincing you to close your eyes, and give complete access to Mingi. But even though he didn’t that use trust to his advantage, he didn't engulfed himself into you. Instead he gently deepened the kiss, taking the time to let you warm up as your fingers relaxed around the worn out leather. Mingi’s hands were getting to know you, caressing the soft cotton of your dress. His rough palms contrasted greatly with the softness of his touch.

Slowly he parted his lips, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth inviting your tongue into a dance, giving a few kitten licks and getting to taste you, you moaned when his hands reached down to the small of your back. 

“Mingi” you breathed against his mouth. There was no words to describe what that simple word did to him. Simply his name gently murmured like this. It was like having an angel speaking of the devil's name so fondly, so gently. He didn't feel worthy but there was plenty of time tomorrow for guilt. Today Mingi only had time for you.

He gently laid you back onto the wooden dining table and you hoisted yourself up on your elbows, he leaned over you as his kiss spilled from your lips to your neck. You whined once when your lips mourned the loss of his warmth and once when you felt his hot and wet tongue glide across the thin skin of your neck, you let your head fall back as Mingi progressed further down until he’s met with the collar of your dress. You don't want to lose the way he feels on your skin so your hands quickly busy themselves with the buttons, practically ripping them off to take the thick fabric that separated you from Mingi off you while he watches with this signature half smile, satisfied to see you so eager to expose yourself to him. 

As soon as you’re done with buttons he latched on your skin again, sucking on your collar bone going down and then up the curve of your breasts until he reached your bra he swiftly reached around to unclasp it, he drew back to see the way your beautiful breasts spilled out of the article, gently falling over at each side of your chest. Mingi’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes avidly roamed over you, taking your form in. 

The way his eyes turned sharp as he looked at you made you squeeze your thigh together as your felt arousal pool into your lower stomach, heat spilling into your underwear.

“So pretty” he murmured before he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, immediately hardening into a tight nub. He flicked his tongue on the erected knob while his warm hand kneaded the other one, perfectly distributing his attention to your body, already feeling sensitive. You arched your back and pushed his face further into your skin when he sucked on the hardened nipple, making your moan his name. 

“Fuck- Mingi” you panted. “Don’t stop”

Mingi briefly stood back up to take the long coat off, only harboring the leather vest that let you admire his toned arms flexing as he ripped the coat off to throw it over one of the chairs. He didn't even bother taking the dress off you, only flipping it over your stomach as he pulled down your underpants, leaving your bottom half completely nude. 

Suddenly coy you pressed your thighs together, shielding your modesty from his ardent gaze, he looked back up at you with knitted brows, such desperation swimming in his eyes, as if he absolutely needed to see you.

“Please” he exhaled. “Please let me see you, y/n” he pleaded.

And you finally parted your legs, first your feet then your knees and finally your thighs.

“Fuck” Mingi cursed as he palmed his aching  lengh throught his pants. He was finally seeing you, like how he imagined you a thousand times. But even the wildest dreams could never live up to that reality, to the truth of you, you were breathtaking. The way your beautiful center was already swollen with need, twitching in anticipation to be touched, your folds covered with the glistening sheen of your juices lazily running down your entrance. 

Mingi felt like he’d finally seen the light. Like redemption was within grasp, somehow contained within your holy form. He felt like he needed to worship you, like he needed to get on his knees and so he did. 

He kneeled in front of you, snaking his arms around your things and grasping at the supple flesh to pull you closer to him, bringing his lips close to your most private of places.

You felt heat rush to your face and chest as your heart raced, uncontrollably hammering into your chest, menacing to break free anytime as Mingi dug his nose right into your folds. 

“Oh my g-” you gasped as soon as he made contact with you. Your head immediately spinning, your core quivering and demanding more.

Mingi planted one soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, then went to your entrance where he flattened his tongue to swiped it across, spreading your folds and scooping as much as your slick as possible, earning a whimper from you. Mingi wanted more of this, of your sweet taste, more of your honey coating his tongue, more of your beautiful voice singing soft melodies into his ears, more of your beautiful face looking down at him in pleasure, glossy eyes pleading for more.

“Baby” he moaned against you before burying his face into you, flicking his tongue on your clit as you moaned again, louder this time. Mingi concentrated on this part of you, assaulting your clit with flicks after flicks, jolts after jolts of divine pleasure, spreading heat in all of your limbs. Mingi felt your thighs tense up in his hold and he suddenly let go. 

You whined as you felt your desperate center throb for more of him. You looked up at him right on time to see him sink not one but two long fingers inside your tight heat. Immediately curling them into your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, once again you let out a lewd sound that bounces off the walls making the hairs on Mingi’s nape stand and his length leak arousal. 

“You like that?” he asked, deep voice a little more impatient.

“Yes!” you exhaled. “Please more, more” you begged, your eyes coming back into focus.

“Of course, doll” he said before coming back down to your demanding center. He pumped his long fingers in and out of your heat, each time your eager little cunt pulled them back inside, tightly gripping around them. He wrapped his tongue around your clit, sucking and licking until you were on the verge of your release.

“Please” you said, your hand flying between your legs to keep Mingi’s face exactly where it was. “Don’t stop” you breathed, your thighs tensing, your swollen clit pulsing under Mingi’s wet and hot tongue.

“Fuck” you said, pressing on his face a little harder which made him smirk agaisnt you. “I'm cumming” you said in a strangled moan, you legs trembling your orgasming center gushing more and more of your honey , completely quenching Mingi’s thirst for your sweet nectar, walls fluttering around his fingers as he guided you down.

Mingi hurriedly kicked his pants off him and stood between your legs, large cock resting heavily in his palm, the head made red and shiny with precum.

“Please give me another one of those” he whispered with edginess, deep voice strained with need. “I wanna see and hear that again.” he rubbed his cock against your folds, mixing both of your essences into one, drenching his length with your slick. “Please this time cum on my cock” he gently pushed his tip inside you, closing his eyes shut as he felt your walls fluttering around his cock head, finishing your previous orgasm around his cock, your pretty little pussy pulsing around him as he continued to push himself in, breathing heavily to keep himself from bursting on the spot.

“Fuck” he cried, finally peeling his eyes open. “You feel so good around me baby” he breathed. “You’re so pretty, so perfect” he praised you. Taking a good look at you. You were stunning, beads of sweat running down your temples, your breasts spilling from the half undone dress, said dress completely wrinkled and roughed up, not hiding anything away from him anymore. 

“Ok” you said, out of breath, pushing a dampened strand of hair away from your face. “Make me cum around your cock, Mingi” you said, spreading your legs even wider, giving Mingi an even better view of his cock splitting you in two.

“Fuck-” Mingi cursed again, immediately taking you up on the offer. He started to pull out only to push back in again, just as gently. The way his girth split you open made you moan his name. You whimpered at the delicious stretch of your walls accommodating his generous mengh as he filled you up to the brim so perfectly almost like you were made for him entirely. 

“Please harder, Mingi” you said, your fingers pulling into the leather cropped vest, where you could see from underneath his toned abs and belly button. 

“Of course, doll” he said as he picked the pace, a wince of pleasure sneaking on his face when you gripped even tighter around him, letting out a satisfied groan. 

With each powerful thrust he was grazing against your g spot making your moan and arch your back, pushing your hips into him everytime he pushed himself back in.

“Fuck you’re so good to me baby” he panted, a large bead of sweat running from his hairline along the bridge of his sharp and long noze. 

You only replied with more moans, growing louder and louder as you both fucked each other, rocking the dining table recklessly the sound of your skin clashing and filling up the space along with groans and grunts.

“Baby, I'm close” Mingi said in a strangled and high pitched moan that was far from the usual deep voice he used.

“Me too” you answered “Please inside” you struggled to make sense. “Please cum inside me”

You didnt care about the consequences right now, moreover you weren't even thinking about them. You only thought about Mingi deep inside of you giving you the raw, rough unfiltered love you have been needing for years. Ever since he kissed you back on the hills. And suddenly you were back at the hilltop again.

Your body started to shake as you came undone again as Mingi delivered large and thick ropes of burning cum inside your heat, your name slipping off his lips a thousand times. Both of your bodies going up in flames, throwing each other in the fire that lighted you both as he kissed you again.

You pulsed uncontrollably around him, as he became sloppy, his thrusts more shallow and irregular until they came to a stop. He crashed over your body, panting, chest heaving up and down as you stroked his hair. He stayed inside you for a while, his cum lazily dripping out of you. He didn't want to lose this connection with you, he wanted to stay right there. Right here with you.

***

“Come with me” Mingi said as he was ready to hop on one of your horses, as the sun was setting over the fields. 

“Mingi I-” you started.

“Forget about him” Mingi cut you off before you have a chance to mention your husband's name. He took your hands into his big and rough ones. “Come back with me to the hills, y/n” he said. You opened your mouth to speak again but Mingi didn't let you talk. He was afraid of your answer. “We won't have much but we will have each other. And if I have you then I have everything” he pressed his chest against yours and you heard his heart beat into your ear, testifying of his true feelings, much deeper than any words. 

This was your chance to let the deceiving lies behind to embrace a life of true love. And you took your chance. As you hoped on the horse right behind Mingi, leaving the empty house behind. You held onto him, your fingers found their way and intertwining with the leather again as you rode into the sunset, lifting the dry dirt in your wake. The stars finally crossing as your destinies took the same path. The sun meeting you on the horizon, inviting you with it.

Two star crossed lovers on the sun.

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: phewww it is done! i cant even begin to explain the STRUGGLE i had while writing this but i hope it turned out good? maybe? it was wayyyy out of my comfort zone if you liked it please tell me in the comments or reblog (pls don't use the community labels please) or leave a nice ask. that would mean so much <3. anyways thank you for the awesome collab anne @ssaboala. don't forget to check out the other authors' amazing fics here. byeee~

[nikkento-writes]

Bad Romance

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: Wild West au, no curses au, violence, implied sex work, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut - PIV sex, blow job, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, creampie

Summary: You’re the Vixen Viper, an outlaw on the run with an outstanding bounty. You find a temporary safe-haven at the Star Saloon, protecting the women who work there while they protect you from the authorities. One night, a bounty hunter by the name of Toji Fushiguro shows up, threatening to cause some trouble. Somehow, you find the perfect way to subdue him.

Author's Note: This is a repost from my old blog! I originally wrote this as a request for a milestone event I was doing and it's still one of my fave fics that I've written, so I wanted to share it on here. I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 to this, we'll see! I just love the idea of Toji in the Wild West, idk, I think it fits him very well. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Midnight at the Star Saloon is always lively with rambunctious activity. It’s the perfect time for stragglers moseying through town or the miscreant locals to stop by for a break, meaning booze, gambling, or sex. Usually all three in one night. You’ve been a regular here for almost three months now, befriending the women and men who work hard to keep the patrons satisfied. Whether it’s serving alcohol until they fall out of their seats, enabling poker addictions, or riding their cocks in one of the private rooms upstairs at a special rate, they do it all to make an honest living. Though on occasion, customers will cross the line.

And that’s where you come in.

It started two months ago, after you had frequented the saloon enough times to be considered a regular. It was around three in the morning when one of the barmaids approached you, asking you to follow her upstairs. She led you into the private room all the way down the hall, and inside was another worker, sitting at the foot of the bed, cheek swollen and a black eye all on the left side of her face. That’s all you needed to see to set you off. The perp had already left, but you knew who he was as soon as she described him. And, of course, like all assholes do, thinking they got away with it, he came back. When he did, it was you this time who took him upstairs to that same bedroom, dressed in one of the barmaid’s outfits. You, who flirted with him and stripped him naked on the bed, promising to give him exactly what he deserved. And finally, it was you who robbed him and held a sharp blade to his pathetic penis, threatening to slice it right off if he ever showed his ugly fucking face in this town again. You haven’t seen him since.

At that time, your friends at the Star Saloon already knew you were someone who could handle things. Maybe it was the way you dressed at first, often showing up in cowboy attire, ready to book it if the situation called for it. Or maybe it was because they recognized you from the wanted posters plastered in the next town over, your silly nickname the Vixen Viper in big bold print below an unflattering photo of you from the last time you landed in jail, right before you escaped. They never mentioned it; never reported you to the authorities. Instead, they welcomed you in with open arms. There’s a bounty on your head for the crimes you committed against sleazy men like that, but you hold no guilt for your actions. To you, and to all the women in the saloons you’ve frequented, it’s justice. They need someone like you to protect people like them. Because lord knows that no one else in this godforsaken world will.

You’ve lasted three months in this town without the authorities catching on to you yet. You look quite different from your poster when you’re done up in makeup and a frilly dress, dagger concealed in the garter wrapped around your thigh. And with the help of your friends, you’ve managed to hide in plain sight, posing as one of the barmaids while you patrol the late-night crowd for any possible threats. Violence against these women has significantly lessened since you’ve been around. The rumor amongst the patrons is that men who misbehave get their money taken and their dicks chopped off, which is pretty spot-on to the actual truth. So fortunately, for both the workers and the customers, there isn’t any trouble. 

Tonight is a little different.

You lean against the bar doing your usual inspection, checking for people who are causing a ruckus or getting rough with any of the ladies. You’re dressed similarly to them, though you never get requested to entertain in one of the private rooms above, considering you don’t go out of your way to flirt with any of the men. You lack the illustrious charm the others do; you’re only here for when things get ugly. It surprises you when a mysterious stranger on the other side of the room points to you directly, wiggling his finger to beckon you over. He smirks, the prominent scar on his lips curving with it. You grab your drink and walk over to him, curious to see what this is about, sensing that it can’t be anything good.

When you reach his table, you give him your most cordial smile. “Good evening, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

He grins, waving to the seat across from him. “I was hoping you can join me for a little chat.” His tone is even, though there’s a hint of something sinister in there. Maybe it’s your imagination or better yet, your intuition. You’ll soon find out.

You drag the chair out, plopping into it, laying your hands flat on your lap, palm pressed to the knife hidden beneath your skirt. He scans you up and down before asking, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, you answer, giving him a fake one, of course. He nods, accepting it. “Toji Fushiguro. Pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out, which you take reluctantly, shaking it. His grip is firm, callouses rough against your own. “I saw you and knew I had to meet you.”

Your raise a brow at him. “Oh? What about me caught your eye?"

“Thought I recognized you from somewhere.” His gaze lingers on yours, expression unwavering.

Your heart stops momentarily, a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Not here, not now. You swallow thickly, feigning ignorance. “Really? From where?”

He slides you a rolled-up paper, nodding his head for you to open it. “Take a look.”

Trembling now, you obey, unraveling it slowly until you see the words WANTED: ALIVE and your face staring back at you. There’s no need to go any further. You fold it up immediately, heart racing, glancing at your surroundings hoping no one else is listening in on your conversation. As calmly as you can, you lean forward towards him, muttering, “So what, are you going to arrest me? Hog-tie me in front of all these people?”

He inches even closer, noses nearly touching now, his breath tickling you. “Now, I’m a gentleman. I like to know a woman first before I tie her up.”

You scoff. “So what, am I supposed to come quietly then?”

He glances at your mouth, then back to your eyes. “I’m willing to negotiate if you have something to offer.”

You clear your throat, intrigued by his response. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private,” you say, grabbing his wrist and dragging him up the stairs with you.

“Lead the way, Vixen.”

You lead him to the very end of the hallway, the furthest room away from the bar downstairs. There’s a fire escape just outside the window, your best chance to evade arrest. First, you’ll have to subdue him.

Inside, you lock the door shut, turning to face him. “Are you a police officer?”

He shakes his head. “Guess again,” he answers, opening his coat to display the gun and knife hanging on his belt.

“Bounty hunter,” you state, glaring at him.

“Yup. And you, my dear, have a very hefty bounty on your pretty little head.” He steps towards you, caging you between his arms, your back flat against the door. Although you remain untouched, his presence is suffocating.

“What do want?” you ask him, breathing in deeply through your nose.

“All the loot you robbed from those scumbags. Enough to exceed the bounty I’d get if I brought you back with me.”

You smirk. “Is that it?”

“And a deal,” he adds. “A partnership.”

You stare at him, confused. “What?”

He laughs, amused by your reaction. “I’ll admit, I’m a fan of your work. Drifting through town-to-town, robbing sleazy assholes. And you haven’t been caught until now. It’s impressive.”

You’re caught off guard by the praise, relaxing just the slightest bit. “So, what do you propose?”

He lets his arms down, placing his hands in his pockets while he explains himself. “There are several bounties for men exactly like the ones you hate. If you promise to help me get them, I won’t take you in tonight. I’ll even give you some of the money. If you’re good.”

“And why can’t you do this yourself?”

“It’s easier to get a guy when his guard’s down. If there’s a pretty little thing like you seducing him, catching him will be easy as pie.”

You stare at him, contemplating his proposition. It’s an easy decision for you to make. It’s either this, or jail. “Fine. You have a deal.”

He offers his hand to you. “Put it there, partner.” His tone is soft, almost sincere. You can’t help thinking that if this were any other scenario, you’d find him attractive. Hell, even in this one, you’re drawn to him. You take his hand, shaking it. He tugs you in closer, voice low and seductive. “I think we should celebrate this new friendship. What do you say?”

You smile at him, what feels like the first genuine one of the night. Maybe this isn’t as bad as you initially thought. When you close the distance, his mouth is on yours quickly, lips smacking, wet and sloppy. He slides out of his jacket, letting it thud loudly on the hardwood with his weapons weighing it down. The shirt he wears is tight on his body, clinging to him, emphasizing his muscular physique. You can’t remember the last time you were intimate with a man without the intention to backstab him. In fact, it’s been a while since you were intimate at all. With him guiding you, however, you match his movements naturally, sliding your hands up his torso, pawing at his chest as his hands squeeze your hips, pulling you towards the bed.

He moans, slipping his wide tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss and exerting his dominance. “Can’t wait to see what the Vixen Viper can really do,” he huffs, hoisting the hem of your dress, bunching it in his fist. His fingers trail the inside of your thighs, stopping at the garter, feeling the handle of the knife strapped to you. He clicks his tongue, mouth hovering your ear, hooking his finger to snap the elastic against your skin. “You really are dangerous.”

You let out a whimper, your pussy throbbing with arousal. He grabs the blade by the handle, whipping it out from its holster, tossing it to the other side of the room away from you. You chuckle, lifting your arms up so he can strip you properly. “Are you scared of me?”

He removes your corset swiftly, squeezing your bare breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples. “I don’t want to get stabbed in case you change your mind.”

You shove him onto the bed, where he lies flat on his back, watching you straddle his lap, naked. “If I do that, then I wouldn’t get to fuck you.”

He laughs loudly, biting his lip. “Oh? You’re the one who’s gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah, I reckon,” you reply, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. He continues to watch you intently, groaning when you shimmy his pants off to release his cock. It flops against his abdomen, even bigger than you imagined, all veiny and girthy. You salivate at the sight of it, opening your mouth for a taste.

“Fuck,” he curses, head relaxing into mattress, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as you sink down on him, swallowing him up until the tip hits the back of your throat. You bob up and down on his shaft, gripping the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. “You suck cock like a fucking whore. Did your friends out there teach you that?”

You grasp his balls in your hand, squeezing them tight, causing him to shudder. Shaking your head, you say, “I learned this from experience.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Come here. Put this pussy on my face. Bet I can teach you something you haven’t learned yet.”

You release him, crawling up his body until your wet cunt is pressed to his lips. His tongue laps at your arousal, swirling around your aching clit. You grip the top of the headboard, grinding on him. “Oh fuck!”

His hands surround your ass, squeezing at your soft cheeks, fingers digging into your flesh. He hums into your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He nods beneath you, encouraging you. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take it. Take it like a good slut.”

He takes you into his mouth, slurping at your clit until your gushing all over his face, your orgasm shiny on his lips and chin. His eyes are wild with excitement, peering up at you between your legs. Kissing the plush of your thighs, he says, “Well, go on then, Vixen. Fuck me.”

Soon, you’re sinking down onto his fat cock, pussy already soaking wet with slick and spit. He fills you up to the brim, taking a few seconds to adjust to size comfortable. When you’re ready, you start to bounce on his lap, his cock thrusting in and out of you smoothly. He hits your sweet spot over and over, stimulating you into another messy orgasm after just a few solid strokes. Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, drool leaking down your chin, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Look at you. So fucked out for me,” he growls, planting his feet on the bed, taking control. He grabs onto your hips firmly, pounding up into you, watching your entire body convulse with each delicious thrust. “You talk a big game, but you like being manhandled like this. You’re just a slutty little hole waiting to be ruined. Waiting for the right man to use you.” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it with deep strokes. “Seems like you finally met the perfect partner.”

“Fuck, Toji!” you cry out, unraveling once again.

He increases his pace, the bed creaking noisily below you. “That’s it, baby. Come with me. Gonna breed this perfect pussy. Gonna fill you up so fucking good.” He pulls you down towards him, wrapping you in his arms, kissing you fiercely as he pumps his load inside you.

You both lay still for a moment, catching your breaths, Toji peppering delicate smooches along your neck. You’re surprised at how gentle he’s being, considering his brutish behavior from earlier. When enough silence passes, you look at him, grinning. “What a way to celebrate, am I right? Partner?”

He laces his fingers with yours. “The beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

After you clean yourselves up as best as possible, you snuggle together under the covers, him spooning you from behind. “’Night, Toji Fushiguro.”

He nuzzles his nose to the nape of your neck, whispering, “What’s your real name?”

You smile, grazing your lips on his knuckles, actually giving it to him.

~~~

Toji Fushiguro, the most sought-after bounty hunter in all the west, wakes up the morning feeling fantastic.

He glances to his side, hoping to see his lovely new partner still peacefully asleep beside him. To his surprise, no one is there. He inspects the room, searching for clues on where she ran off to and notices nothing.

And that’s when it hits him. There’s nothing in the room.

All his clothes are gone, his weapons, the wallet full of cash buried in his pockets, even the very blanket they fell asleep under. He’s as naked as the day he was born, confused and beguiled until he finally realizes it. He’s been robbed. And it was the Vixen Viper who robbed him.

The only thing he finds is her wanted poster, folded up on the bedside table, a small note scribbled to the back of it:

Toji - Thanks for the fun night, but I don’t do partners. Maybe the next time you catch me, I’ll reconsider.  

He laughs, unable to contain his smile as he reads her real name signed at the end of it.

[flamingpudding]

I now have ideas for Klarion is like Robin au

Batman was caught trying to make a contingency plan for Vlad after Tim said that he was like Ra al Ghul

Something happened were Dr. Fate need the help of Vlad and Klarion but all of them right now are and they're civilian identities so they can't help all but one

Cowboy Lassie

So Vlad takes the JLD puts Red Robin he's there to help cuz they need to get Nanda Parbat

Where are the Justice Dark League get to see Lassie in her cowgirl attire I'm talking standard western shirts boots jeans cowboy hat sunglasses I'm talking country

Along with the large horse made out of Lazarus pit be the biggest hater ever to her father as she literally explains that she hates him so much that she started a cult just to hate him

Vlad was just begging for her to help the only reason she does is cuz he brought up her ma

Dan was too busy to help because of the fact he's the head of the theater committee and had about it Danny has incredibly important meeting that he couldn't leave no matter what

And the rest of his kids definitely not going to help him

I should start feeling sorry for Vlad but this AU is just to funny to do so...

Good I love your ideas!

Also sorry if this is not up to how I usually write, I am kind of stuck in a bit of a writers block again thanks to my work....

Anyway! Here we go!

------------------------------

Red Robin, aka Tim, wasn't entirely sure how to go about this at first. Dr Fate had come by saying something about a threat for which they needed the help of 'Chaos' for a change and ranting about how 'Balance' was ignoring him currently because of something that apparently had happened a little while after their last encounter. Now normally this probably wouldn't be to much of a hurdle, if he hadn't tried to be a bit of a smart ass.

Because when he had heard about it Tim in the disguise of paying Dukes school a visit hat looked for Dan Master-Nightingale. Because obviously that was Klarion or rather the current Klarion and the 'Chaos' that could help them out, right? Yeah right...

Before Tim could even approach the other boy the teen had turned around sharply and glared with red eyes at him like he had personally offended him. Which he didn't by the way. Tim was pretty sure he hadn't insulted Klarion errr Dan recently.

"Screw off I got something to do here if we want the next school festival to be a hit. Tell you precious 'Order' to F off unless he apologises to Mom."

That had thrown Tim off a while lot. Because one, that meant Klarion knew who he was behind the Mask too and two, that brat was not going to be helpful or civil with him even out of masks. Not like any of the Klarions every had been but the current one definitely was the rudest among them. But that also meant no help from this agent of 'Chaos'.

Of course Tim wasn't one of the bats and birds for nothing. Bruce had contingency plans for Vlad since he had mentioned his suspicion of the man being like Ra's, so Tim when with the next possible option. If Dr. Fate meant with 'Balance' the Ghost King then they had a way of contacting them. Well not directly them but a contact that could, so he grabbed one of the plans, or part of it at least, and paid a certain millionaire a visit, as Red Robin of course.

It had taken a bit of back and forth, slight arguing in which the man was apparently very insistent in pointing out the time. Which fair it was close to midnight but it was important! In the end Tim had gotten the man to agree to lend them some help but after a phone call that apparently ended with the one on the other side hanging up on Masters themselves the man gave him a peeved look.

"We will have to change plans. Little Badger is not available at the moment and the other kids won't take my calls."

Tim didn't like the sound of that, not because of what Masters sort said about changing plans but the way he used the term 'Little Badger'. For now he would file that back into the back of his mind as his attention went to a map Masters pulled out and spread across his table. The man pointed at a specific place and Tim wanted to face palm. Because of course that man had more connection than just that questionable one between him, the Ghost King and the Klarions.

Masters was pointing at Nanda Parbat.

Good Bruce was going to love this. NOT.

So here he was now Red Robin, dragging a civilian Millionaire and a couple of the Justice League Dark members through the halls of Nanda Parbat as the man directed him where to go while dodging Assassins. For a brief moment he wondered why he hadn't dragged one of his siblings along before he remembered that at least two of them would be grating his nerves even thinner and Batman was busy helping the rest of the JLD containing whatever threat Dr. Fate found until he got the additional help.

A part of him was cursing as he dragged Masters by the cuff of his suit, (who the hell wears a suit when going into an Assassin cult base?!?!), to pull him out of harms way of another trained killer ready to strike the man down. Funnily enough these people all ignored Red Robins presence, like their leader didn't have a sick obsession with him and focused their strikes solely on Masters. That was good and bad, mostly bad but surprisingly the man was somewhat nimble for a civilian. Or there was even more to Masters than they were aware of which Tim also filed way into the back of his mind.

In the end after more or less fighting through half the hide out Masters lead him to a room, that oh great wonder who had thought it, contain the good damn Lazarus Pits! Red Robin wanted to hit that millionaire right now. He wasn't sure how the others present were taking this but he slowly was having enough of that Man.

Red Robin was really contemplating making good on his impulsive thought as a girl in full on cowboy style rose from the Pit waters.

They all, but Masters, blinked at her sudden and dramatic appearance. Masters took a step forward apparently wanting to speak to the girl and Tim only half heartedly because of his sense as hero tried to stop the man.

"Are you done with your cult nonsense, dear little Lassie?"

Red Robin in that moment felt a shiver go down his back when he saw the glare the girl directed at Vlad Masters as well as the room becoming several degrees colder. Mentally, this too, Tim filed back for later.

"No." Red Robin blinked under his mask as the girl snapped with her fingers and the Pit waters around her swirled a green horse appearing out of no where matching her style and he gaped even more the girl unapologetically pointed at Masers who apparently for once got a hint about dodging and ran away as the horse began chasing him.

A part of Red Robin felt like he had to do something to stop this and he caught one of the JLD members with them attempting to step in but the horse completely ignored them. The girl catching his look only waved them off dismissively. "Don't bother. Let Larus have some fun with him, before I sent the entire League after him again for stepping into my turf."

"Isn't Ra's Al Ghul...." He trailed off a little unsure how to proceed here.

"Oh he is sort of the Leader of my merry band of followers of hatred." Red Robin was about to speak again but didn't get a chance as the girl started to ramble on about the logistics of hating someone so much that you raise a cult just for that and the cult just so happens to still have a goal of its own but also are brainwashed to attack on side whenever Vlad Master is involved.

No Red Robin wasn't getting worried. Some of these statements definitely weren't worrying. That the League of Assassins originally was cult to hate just one man in particular was not a shocking revelation. Nor that the Lazarus Pits apparently were alive and also had a hate for Masters. Nor that this girl, Lassie apparently also was a daughter of the Ghost King. And it was definitely not worrying that she apologised for what her cult had done to her family and asked that maybe his older brother should see Vlad Master anytime soon.

Okay everything about that was worrying.

But for now they needed help with a bigger problem. But Red Robin did make a note of breaking back in into Nanda Parbat to have a enlightening talk with Lassie at a later time.

Thankfully after having listened to her rand and mentioning the Ghost King to the girl she did agree to help them. So original goal reached... but several new questions acquired...

[o-sachi]

Cowboy, Pirate, or Samurai? pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ how the blue lock boys respond to, “would you rather be a cowboy, pirate, or samurai?”

ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - Samurai

Knowing Isagi's love for manga, I have a hunch that he might go for samurai solely because it reminds him of all those shounen manga that he had read before. Isagi is definitely the type of guy to find swords amazing. If he had the money, he'd buy one of those replica katanas that you can display in your room. But, to be fair, he finds all options cool. It's just that the samurai has an allure to him that the others lack. I'm guessing it's their cold and calculating nature which is resemblant of Isagi when he's on the field.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru - Pirate

It’s no surprise that a spontaneous person like Bachira would choose to be a pirate. After all, they do travel far and wide, and have the most amazing expeditions out of all the three. He isn’t as excited about the sword fights or the bounties as he is with exploring new places. I have a feeling he likes swimming and just being around water in general. His favorite animal is a dolphin, so I’m sure that his jaw would drop upon seeing one jumping along with the pirate ship.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - Samurai

Chigiri will probably choose this more so as a last resort. He can't imagine being a pirate because the sea salt air would ruin his hair. Everyday would be a bad hair day and that's a huge no from him. Being a cowboy would mean being under the sun for hours, sweating and letting grime accumulate. He figures that being a samurai would be the safest option. With his speed, he might even be good at wielding a sword.

ᯓ Nagi Seishiro - Cowboy

Much like Chigiri, I think Nagi will choose this as a last resort. Pirates immediately get a no from him because they move around and go to places too much. He can't even fathom trying to get a good snooze on a ship that's constantly wobbling on water. Being a samurai is also a hassle since they have to be swinging their swords around. Picking cowboy seems like the chillest option since he thinks he can just take care of a horse and... nap with it under some shade after going for a very short ride.

ᯓ Baro Shoei - Samurai

One word: discipline. Baro thinks the elegance and esteem carried by the samurai are unparalleled. As a person who strongly believes in structure, Baro feels that he'd fit in the best in the samurai lifestyle unlike the others which are a bit too carefree for his taste. If he were to be in any other shounen, he'd be the type of character to have a strong sense of justice. Baro also looks like the type to be proud of his Japanese heritage, so it comes as no surprise that he's picking this one out of the choices.

ᯓ Reo Mikage - Pirate

He likes treasure. Pirates also like treasure. It was a no-brainer for Reo to go for pirate. The idea of going out on a grand voyage to discover and acquire precious items appeals quite a lot to him. It's literally a canon event and we can't interfere with it. He'd even go as far as to one up other pirates by purposefully finding more gold or finding an object far more valuable than anything anyone else had found. Reo would love to be a pirate king and lead his crew to a cavern of riches.

ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - Cowboy

If we're talking about pre-wildcard Kunigami, then he's definitely a cowboy archetype. Cowboys are hard working, but carefree. They protect the innocent with their strength much like a hero. Kunigami fits this mold to a T with his strong sense of self and fairness. And, this is just a headcanon of mine, but I think he has a soft spot for animals. He looks like the big scary guy who's actually a lot more wholesome than he lets on. He'd take care of his horse like it's his best buddy. Post-wildcard Kunigami would probably say... ninja because he's edgy.

[🐟]: adding more characters in the next part~

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

o-sachi © 2024

[dragonakito360]

Boothill x Mechanic!Reader

I was inspired by a post from @buggytales so please show them some love for this amazing idea!

CW: I feel like Boothill is OOC and has my own hcs mixed in since it's written before his release, but that's about it.

Names Used: Darlin', Sweetheart

For as long as Boothill can remember, he's been the rootin' tootin' cyborg cowboy of the galaxy. The gunslinging galaxy ranger, fighting evil and bringing justice. His mechanical augmentations were a byproduct of his lifestyle, starting off with just an arm, then a leg, or perhaps a part of his chest? It was a blur now, because before he knew it, he was less human than machine. But that never really bothered him, not when he's got the best mechanic this side of the galaxy; you.

You weren't his first mechanic by any means, but you certainly were the first he trusted with all his being. Your shop was small, hidden away in a busy market district of your home planet. It wasn't famous, nor was it busy at any given day, so it always made you wonder what got Boothill to visit your shop. Some would call it fate, or maybe it was mere chance that he stumbled into the store needing urgent repairs. Nevertheless, since that faithful day, he's been your loyal customer ever since. Whether it be a phone call from you asking how he's been, a routine maintenance to make sure his systems are in working order, or repairs from a battle, he was happy hearing you, seeing you, he loved everything about you.

His heart may now be a machine, having a steady, rhythmic beat. But he swears it beats faster when he's close to you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"Welcome!" You greet, looking up from your desk behind the counter. A smile forms on your lips once you see it's Boothill. He returns your bright smile with his own as he leans on the countertop. "It's not your maintenance day, so do you need anything repaired?" You ask as you eye him up and down for any visible damages, to which there were none.

"My handgun ain't workin', was hopin' you'd take a look at it."

"You can place it on my table-Oh!" You couldn't help but giggle when Boothill placed his left arm on your desk, his body halfway over the counter.

"What? Ya said to place it on your desk!" He laughed along with you, his heart skipping a beat when he heard your laugh. He's heard it countless times, but it always made his day to hear it.

"Come around here and let me take a look." Boothill nodded and circled around the counter, sitting next to you on the spare stool. You gently took his left arm, using a tool to inspect it further. "It seems the cylinder isn't revolving like it's supposed too... Don't worry, it's an easy fix!" You smiled reassuringly, carefully dismantling the arm and repairing it. "This has been broken for a while now, weren't their any repair shops on the planet you were on?"

"There's plenty, but none of 'em were as good as you."

"If you say so." You playfully rolled your eyes as you continued the repair. That is until a question caught you off guard.

"Why you always so gentle, darlin'?" The cyborg couldn't help but ask as you work. "Am I more fragile than I'm thinkin'?"

"No, no, I'm just... worried I might hurt you, that's all." At this, Boothill laughed heartily, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye out of habit.

"You ain't gonna hurt me darlin'! I trust you, more than any mechanic in the galaxy." Your cheeks flushed red and you avert your gaze, opting to stare at the floor. "Aww what's that look for? It's only the truth."

Taking a deep breath, you look up at him. "T-That's really sweet of you, but why me? I don't think I'm the best, you know." Boothill gave a dismissive wave and took your hand in his.

"You don't gotta be the best, you've taken care of me plenty! I'm trustin' you with all of me, sweetheart, don't ya forget it." He winked and you felt your heart pounding in your chest as your face reddens.

"Thank you..." You take deep breaths and calm your emotions.

"I should be thankin' you." He let go of your hands, allowing you to finish your repair work. A soft smile on your face as you work, he was mesmerized watching you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you for even a moment. Before he knew it, you were already done. Which sadly meant it was time for him to go again.

Aeons did he hate leaving your side, even if he came back in a few months for a check-up or a repair within weeks.

But that's why he cherishes every moment he's got with you working on him. Perhaps one day, when he's not so busy, he'll take you out for a date or two.

"Before you go, I have an idea I have for a new augmentation!" You pulled out a few blueprints from under your desk and showed it to the cowboy. Boothill snorted and tried to contain his laughter.

"Butt lasers? Darlin' I don't think I'm gonna have use for that."

"What? But think about it, what if your arms and legs malfunction and you can't move?"

"What makes ya think anyone's gonna defeat me and I ain't able to kick and shoot 'em?"

"Well, um... It's just a precaution, that's all." Boothill stood up and took your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Don't worry too much darlin'. I ain't gettin' roughed up all that much, wouldn't want ya to worry." He thought for a moment. "But if it makes ya happy, feel free to add it next time I visit. Some extra firepower will do me good, even when I got three guns." He slapped the gun on his waist and flexed his metal arms, causing you to giggle.

"Okay then. I'll see you around, space cowboy." With a tip of his hat, Boothill headed out of your store.

"See ya, darlin'."

[bisexualiteaa]

Feo, Fuerte Y Formal

Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)

CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)

AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰

Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!

Tag list: @expirednukacola

It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.

He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.

Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!

How lucky can one guy be?

I kissed her and she kissed me.

Like the fella once said,

“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”

You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.

The room was completely black.

I hugged her and she hugged back.

Like the sailor said, quote,

“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”

My head keeps spinning.

I go to sleep and keep grinning.

If this is just the beginning,

My life is gonna be beautiful.

You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.

I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.

It’s just like the fella said,

“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”

Like the fella once said,

“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”

Like the sailor said, quote,

“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”

My head keeps spinning.

I go to sleep and keep grinning.

If this is just the beginning,

My life is gonna be beautiful.

She’s telling me we’ll be wed.

She’s picked out a king-size bed.

I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.

Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?

Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?

He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance, you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway, I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway, I go weak

He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

When marimbas start to play

Hold me close, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance, you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.

“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.

“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.

[utytimeline]

I might make some people mad, but I'm gonna say it, anyway.

So, Ceroba's reason for choosing Chujin over Star was because she wanted someone more mature. At least, that's my understanding. Star was playing cowboy and role-playing with his friends while she wanted to settle down and raise a family.

And... yeah, Star had a lot of growing up to do. And he did almost none of it until Ceroba stopped him from shooting us.

Star's main character flaw is his ego, but it's even worse than just an ego. Half the reason he set up the Wild East was to help everyone else. He wanted to bring in money to help his family when the Swelterstone's effects caused a drought; he wanted monsters to get a taste of what the surface is like so they don't drown in despair; and he wanted to make Ceroba happy after she lost both her husband and her child. All of this on top of feeling like he was a "nobody farmer" that couldn't do anything or help anyone.

So Star's primary character flaw isn't as simple as just having a big ego. His primary character flaw is trying to fix others as a way of fixing himself.

Sometimes this is a good thing, tho. I often think of Star as the "papa" of the Feisty Five. He's the protective one, he's the one teaching them ethics (reminding Mooch that they're not supposed to be bandits, playing dead to teach Clover about the responsibility of potentially hurting someone), he takes care of the town, he's made ALL his own money from this town that he built himself (enough that Mooch wants his inheritance, so it's a sizeable amount), he even gave his posse a designated nap time, gave Ceroba a home (and possibly gave her his bed while he crashes on the couch), sews his own clothes, set up all the rules and regulations... and I could go on, but I think I've made my point. Star is not wholly irresponsible. He's not perfectly responsible- he, and the rest of the posse, have a habit of breaking and losing Blackjack's weapons, they're all loud and rowdy, and they have a tendency to forget to turn off their boulder machines out in the Dunes.

So, yeah, Star does still have some growing up to do. But he's got a good start.

As for... everything that went wrong... That was entirely due to Star's worship of humanity. Star fell in love with westerns and with the justice and overall sense of romance that they portrayed, so much so that he not only tried to make himself into one of his western heroes, but he then extended this worship to the first human to ever set foot in the Dunes- namely, Clover. And because of this, Star completely threw everything that was good about himself out the window. He sees a human an immediately decides "this is my deputy," without even really giving Clover a fair chance to see if they even are deputy material. He forgot the safety glasses, got so worked up he forgot how to pronounce "duel," became extremely temperamental, apparently forgot that Vengeful Virgil was scheduled for the train mission that day, locked up a Royal Guard against her will (arguably committing treason in doing so, I might add), and just generally began running over everyone's words and emotions, including Ceroba's.

So when it came down to the Showdown... Star blamed Clover. Star's not an idiot. He knows good and well it's not Clover's fault. It's Star's fault- or more precisely, it's his worship of humanity that is to blame. But the problem is, he's taken it upon himself to guard the feelings of other monsters, to make them feel hope and joy. And he just screwed up and stole all that from them. So he's conflicted, not willing to admit that he has done the exact opposite of everything he set out to do. And since it's his worship of humans that led him to this point, he decides to blame the human.

Hence, the Showdown.

But he doesn't want to do it. He says himself, "Monsterkind's Hero is a title soaked in blood." He loves humans. And he sees Clover as a friend. He doesn't want to kill them. He's not a killer, and he doesn't want to be one. He doesn't believe in it. Justice is one thing, but... how is it just to kill someone that did nothing wrong?

So. Here's where Ceroba comes in. Telling Star he needs to calm down and go back to who he used to be. And Star points out that she's changed, too. Even Ceroba says, before taking Clover to the Steamworks, that she doesn't know if she has room to tell Star to go back to the Starlo she used to know.

Ceroba, tho, is no different than Star (this is the part that I said might make some people mad). Ceroba worships Chujin just as much as Star worships humans.

Ok, look. Chujin was a great craftsman. He built so much- furniture for Dalv, his and Ceroba's house, the space heater at the Honeydew Resort, many other items in use throughout the Underground, Kanako's toys (even programmed a video game for her), and so much more. So much that even Star respects him for all that he did for everyone.

However, there is also much that indicates that Chujin wasn't the best at his job. His only award is "You Tried at Engineering," and it took 14 tries for him to build a working robot. In Chujin's defense, I will say that it is impressive that he did build a working, sentient robot without the use of a SOUL, which is how Alphys made both Mettaton and Mew Mew; however, if Chujin is really such a genius, why did it take 14 tries to get Axis to work, when it apparently only took 1 try for Guardener?

And then Chujin didn't just stop with robotics, but went on to SOUL research. Two completely different fields. (And before anyone starts commenting on Alphys, I just want to point out, yet again, that both of the robots she built did use SOUL power; so, realistically, Alphys never was a great robotics genius, but rather, everything she did was a part of SOUL research- hence, the reason Asgore hired her as the Royal Scientist). But Chujin decided to press on with his SOUL research, despite there being no indication anywhere that he had ever done any such research before.

Now, I'm not trying to say that Chujin wasn't remarkable or a genius. I'm just pointing out some things that indicate that maybe he wasn't quite the genius that Ceroba wanted to make him out to be. And... Ceroba's reaction to his "You Tried" award. She's proud of him. More pride than what is warranted by such an award.

Ceroba said she met Chujin when he pretty much rescued her after she twisted her ankle, fell into a ditch, and laid there for several hours, unable to move. She also said that she had considered dating Starlo before meeting Chujin. So... hate me for this if you want to, but I feel like she may not have the best judgement when it comes to guys. Now, that's not to say she picked losers or creeps. Both Chujin and Starlo were/are sweethearts that care deeply about everyone around them. But the fact remains that Ceroba left behind the guy that she'd known all her life for a guy she just met, just because he rescued her from a bad situation.

And I'm not even saying she made a bad choice! By all accounts- including Ceroba's, Martlet's, and even Starlo's- Chujin was a good, kind-hearted, hard-working monster, and a wonderful husband and father. But... he wasn't perfect. And I think Ceroba, even though they had to have been married at least 10 years, just always had stars in her eyes where he was concerned. He was her everything. She believed he could do no wrong. She believed it so strongly, she was willing to do... many horrible things.

Ceroba's drive to kill Clover started with her love for Chujin. She wanted to do anything to keep him alive in her own heart. And when their child begged and pleaded for a chance to help, Ceroba agreed, because Kanako woshipped her father, too. Ceroba's misguided belief in her husband guided her to do things she would never have done otherwise.

Thus the reason for her guilt. It's not just guilt over killing her own child. It's also guilt over knowing that it was her own misguided worship of a monster that wasn't as perfect as she thought he was, that this was what led her to kill, and to kill again.

Ceroba worshipped Chujin. Just as Starlo worshipped the ground Clover walked on, Ceroba worshipped the ground Chujin walked on.

So when people point to Ceroba's comment that Starlo didn't grow up... yeah. She's right. Starlo needed to grow up.

But so did Ceroba.

One of the hardest parts of growing up is realizing that the people you worship are just people. They make mistakes, and you, yourself, are mistaken for believing they can do no wrong.

So, anyway. There's as much Staroba (Starfox, I call them) hatred as there is love for the ship. I've seen both sides of the argument: Starlo isn't mature enough; Ceroba is insane. Yeah. You're both right. And that's why they're perfect for each other. They both made the mistake of changing everything they were in an effort to continue worshipping their idols. They both went nuts. They were both driven to kill. This is the inherent danger of idolatry, believing so much in something that isn't real, that you will do anything to make it stay real to you.

[miitokii]

can i post this for shuake week day 7 even though it’s late and isn’t really shuake (I LOVE SHUAKE) :,)

joker’s palace! i imagine he has one shadow for each confidant, and they’re all called their respective arcanas.

his palace is a theatre/masquerade, hence they all have masks and gloves

the first one (which i also posted before, is arsène/fool)

the last one is strength (the shadow for the twin wardens). it’s kinda just his inmate outfit so i didn’t line/colour it properly lol

i also have these, which i drew for a different purpose [which has now been posted!] (hence the lack of masks, gloves, and yellow eyes; and the drawings of the confidants; and the relative lack of detail) but if i were to draw them the designs would be similar

warning for long ass dump of my notes on each shadow lol:

each shadow is sort of like how ren tries to portray himself to each of his confidants, like their ideal version of him (at least in joker’s cognition)

joker (fool): his ‘joker’ persona - the leader of the phantom thieves, bold, flamboyant, confident (i.e. how he portrays himself in the metaverse)

ann (lovers): fashionista, model, stepping into drag queen territory

i initially drew a suit version but then remembered ren canonically has crossdressed lol (we love the mementos mission manga)

haru (empress): a sweet and gentle prince, detached from okumura foods (like haru’s getaway, prince charming)

makoto (priestess): a model student, smart, serious, but also driven and follows own ideals (like makoto wishes she could)

ryuji (chariot): punkish gym bro

akechi (justice): righteous knight, intellectual and justice driven

morgana (magician): a phantom thief, a cowboy sort of image, sly, cunning, fast

yusuke (emporer): traditional japanese furisode (in modern times this tends to be worn by women, which yusuke could be more drawn to in his models) artistic, down to earth

there’s also a bit about his mother, since a furisode is mostly worn by unmarried women, and since we never hear about yusuke’s biological father, i’d guess she was unmarried? yusuke wants to recapture the beauty of the sayuri (which is a self-portrait) and thinks he could do so with a beautiful model - so ren wears a furisode like an unmarried young woman, like yusuke’s mother

futaba (hermit): otaku, nerd, older brother figure and fellow gamer

sojiro (heirophant): apprentice barista, 2nd boss of leblanc, charming, a ladies man (sorry sojiro your son is gay)

twin wardens (strength): just an inmate lol (focused on fusing lots of personas and filling the compendium, plus listening to igor)

sumi (faith): senior more experienced gymnast/trainer, ‘senpai’

mishima (moon): gentleman thief, but unlike fool and magician, moon would be more secretive and cunning like a traditional gentleman thief

maruki (counsellor): fellow researcher, curious and driven, but very kind and empathetic

maruki would also wish ren was more like him, and agreed with his ideas, since they both lowkey have a savior complex but use different methods. if ren agreed with maruki there would be no conflict in the 3rd semester, which is what maruki would want

sae (judgement): innocent and sweet school boy, model student, unlike priestess who is more self-driven and ambitious, judgement would be more conforming. also determined and righteous (justice driven)

[eternal--dream]

title: libbnash kids headcanons

pairing: libbynash

sypnosis: some headcanons of the kids of libbynash!

warnings: n/a

a/n: eeek first work ever! i hope yall like it :D i'm def open to hearing any suggestions or your thoughts as well! hope y'all like it!!

word count: 1095

credits: thanks to @wish-i-were-heather for giving suggestions that helped to do these headcanons justice

taglist: | @wish-i-were-heather | @balladofareader | @emipie07 | @book-nerd-emi | @lovethornes | @elysianwayy77 | @two-braincells-in-total | @f4iry-bell | @jkriordanverse | @missriri29 | @serenescureforboredom | @lila-77 | @imsaraht |

libby and nash have a lovely set of triplets, one boy and two girls

the oldest is called henry, the middle child is called harley and the youngest is hannah (spoiler!! its canon that in tgg that libby wants to name their daughter (if they ever have one) hannah)

starting of with family traditions:

since libby is a baker i headcanon that for new years, they have this tradition where they all bake pancakes in the shape of the year, like 2024 or 2025. when the kids were younger they would add a ton of their favourite toppings; strawberries for henry, whipped cream for harley and rainbow sprinkles for hannah. then when the clock hits midnight, they would have the pancakes as a midnight snack :D or well, that was the intention, when the triplets were still itty bitty, they would fall asleep right after the pancakes are done so their parents would keep them in a tupperware for breakfast the next morning <3

and ofc every christmas there was secret santa (harley is the breadwinner for that game. she’s highly competitive and, although she’d never boast it as one of her best traits, quite thoughtful too)

now for the kids themselves:

henry is the oldest (albeit by like 2 or 3 minutes) so when they’ve grown older (maybe teenage years) he’s definitely the protective older brother. i imagine that he would’ve inherited certain traits from nash like the saviour complex and older protective brother vibes. other than that, he’s a mama’s boy. he likes baking just like his mama and they often cook treats for the rest of the family together. since henry was 8 or so, he would help with the dinner prep as well. then, as a teen, he does dinner most days because he doesn’t want libby to stress too much. he’s a good kid; his parents taught him well. oh and he’s a sweet cinnamon roll kind of guy and the most gentlemanly gentleman ever <3 for baby pics, libby and nash def have some photos of him as a “chef”. smt along the lines of him wearing a little chef’s hat and licking cookie dough of a spatula. oh and harley and hannah just in the background eating as he “bakes”

meanwhile, harley is the middle child. she’s like the impulse, adrenaline fuelled kinda kid; the wild card essentially. since she basically lived under jamie’s influence and jamie’s her fav uncle <3 she has the whole motorcycle vibe too. she definitely got a harley motorcycle for her 13th birthday or smt, and she calls it baby harley (even thought the motorcycle technically came first). she’s also a rulebreaker just like jamie. i can imagine on her 14th birthday (conveniently a friday night) that jamie took her out to some pub of sorts to drink vodka with her. all the while she had a cowboy hat, cowboy boots (with spurs) and sunglasses on. but then avery, for some reason, walks in on them and brings harley back to her parents. then jamie gets a scolding like a little kid by his own wife, while libby and nash are scolding harley and grounding her. and then they both sneak out again and complain to each other abt being reprimanded. harley would say “you wouldn’t believe what mum and dad did…” and so on, while jamie would retort with “you think that’s bad? avery took away my cuddle privileges for a WEEK!” so harley would reply with a “MUM AND DAD TOOK AWAY MY MOTORCYCLE!” since baby harley is like a part of her soul. then rinse, lather, repeat. all in all, she’s the fun kid, and definitely not the forgotten middle kid stereotype. if anything, she’s the most noticed since she always gets into trouble, but she’s no the attention seeking brat type. that’s just the way she rolls.

now for hannah. if henry was majorly influenced by nash and libby, and harley was majorly influenced by jamie, then hannah was def influenced by xander the most. there would be one instance, where henry would inevitably accidentally break the stand mixer for a baked good he wanted to try making, and hannah would try to fix it but she would only break it more so they would have to get xander. and xander, being xander, would definitely have taught her the art of eating scones to have someone to share the blueberry scone obsession with. but then, she insists on trying the lemon scones as well and she likes them more. it’d be something along the lines of xander saying “oh no, you don’t wanna try those” and hannah would be like “yes i do” and before xander can stop her, she eats the lemon scones at the side because even though nobody particularly likes them (xander hates them the most tho) the staff at hawthorne house still make them. so regarding that topic, xander and hannah are on ends. xander would probably be thinking “i got her to like scones but at what cost?”. and the rest of the family from avery to jamie to libby to nash to max to grayson (even alisa and oren) would find it so amusing. and gray (just to tick xander off), would rattle of some sort of percentage or statistic saying that the odds of hannah liking lemon scones outweigh the odds of her liking blueberry scones or smt. other than that, they're the best duo ever (and let’s face it, it’s kinda hilarious as well). they bond over exploding robots and coding and anything “nerdy”. speaking of that, there undoubtedly would’ve been that one time that one kid would bully hannah for being a “nerd” and hannah would be sulky for a while and then her parents would’ve found out. so libby and nash, being the awesome parents they are, would totally be ready to take the world by storm (more like that kid) and make a hell of a big fuss and maybe even sue the kid (they’re hawthornes like that) but xander just goes “leave it to me” and libby and nash already know that shit is going to go down so they happily let him take care of it. (note that i’m not saying that they are bad parents but that they know they can trust xander to help them take care of it since he probably has quite a few creative ideas for how to take care of the situation. needless to say, that kid left hannah alone after that (perhaps transferred to another school across the country)

main masterlist | inheritance games masterlist

[northstarscowboyhat]

Do you have any thoughts on the Justice family in Lucky Clover AU after the events of Undertale? I assume they move to the Surface, but what do they do with their lives?

Unfortunately, I am cringe and have thought about post UT events. Most of my thoughts are pretty loose though, not as concrete as Clover's time growing up in the Underground, but I can share some scattered thoughts!

Ironically, I imagine Ceroba/Starlo/Clover are among the last Underground inhabitants to move to the surface after the barrier was shattered. Ceroba had heavy reservations about leaving the house Chujin built and his grave behind. Of course, Starlo and Clover were more than patient and willing to wait and help her reconcile these feelings before they all moved.

I like the idea that when they do move, they build a new house that does resemble Ceroba's old house a lot, but is still distinctly it's own home. Somehow blends Japanese and western decor in a very seamless way. Nobody knows how they pulled it off, but they did.

I feel like Starlo definitely builds a new version of the Wild East when on the surface! Probably on a much smaller scale, since he doesn't really have the land to build an entire town LOL. It'd be more of a tourist attraction than it is a town like the original Wild East, but he still has a lot of pride in it.

Ceroba remains as a stay at home mom with Amalgamate Kanako, who requires a lot of attentive care that Ceroba is more than happy to provide her with. Kanako does regain a lot of her old personality, traits, memories etc but still needs help caring for herself. Which again, Ceroba is more than happy to do; she loves getting to make up for the time they lost together, and Kanako is very happy to be back with her mom even with the challenges that come from being an Amalgamate.

I have less concrete thoughts on Clover, though it should be noted that they absolutely keep up the cowboy shtick. I think they'd probably work at the new Wild East for a while, then maybe strike out on their own a bit, try out new things, do some sight seeing, etc. I could honestly see them eventually doing something with horses, like working at a stable or something, in between travelling around with Martlet. After having to live in hiding for so long, they'd appreciate having this newfound freedom and want to discover themselves more.

Not anything I thought in great detail about, but LC!Clover definitely has kids later on in life. All jokes aside, looking after Frisk definitely solidified for them that they want their own family someday.

Speaking of, should go without saying that Frisk doesn't live with Clover post Undertale Pacifist ending, LOL. Clover doesn't pretend they'll make a more suitable guardian than Toriel! But Frisk visits Clover a lot and they keep in touch.

[rockscanfly]

Sometimes I write things! Usually if there's a fandom I love and I don't see the specific kind of stuff I'm interested in reading that's when the writing bug will hit me. Hence, a lot of rarepairs or rare dynamics. Sampler of works I'm proud of below, sorted by fandom:

Red Dead Redemption 2 (currently most active fandom. i'm engaged in an ongoing campaign to bring more bottom!Charles Smith to the world)

the stars are not wanted now: Charles Smith, Sadie Adler, and the two deaths of Arthur Morgan.

Snow Bunny: Three years after the dissolution of the Van der Linde gang, Arthur and Charles pass a long winter together. Arthur calls Charles something new in bed, to rave reviews. Later, he earns a new nickname of his own. (or, Arthur Morgan-Smith's Guide To Surviving The Canadian Winter, Cowboy Style)

Once Bitten, Twice Shy: Running it alone for over a decade doesn't tend to make you very good at communication. When Arthur's un-buried ghosts darken the doorstep of the home he and Charles have built together, Charles’ instinct to pull away ignites a conflagration that threatens to burn that home to its foundations. (or, Arthur considers reconnecting with his former mentor. Charles loses his fucking mind)

Young Justice (pretty much every fic is about Kaldur, my forever girl. My oldest and most prolific fandom, have some WIPs but TBD on if they see the light of day. )

Recovery: No one's really been okay since the invasion ended. Artemis is back on the Team and back to school in Central City, M'gann and Connor are helping the Team stay afloat, Roy's quit the business to take care of Lian, and Dick has retreated back to Blüdhaven. With all this, everyone can't help but notice how Kaldur's reacting to the last year of trauma, and to it finally being over. (Or, in better words, how he's not reacting.)

Gallows Humor: Five jokes that only Artemis and Kaldur laughed at. (or: A Treatise On the Effects of Exposure to Organized Violence in Early Adolescence)

and four a.m. knows all my secrets: (five beds Kaldur has lied awake in and one where he found rest)

Atlantean Cryptanalysis For Beginners: Concept: the little eel faces on Kaldur's hands change their expression depending on his mood (or, Artemis is great at detail, and everyone else is a moron. Nothing is new)

I Saw The Harbor Lights (They Told Me We Were Parting): It’s Kaldur’s last night before he puts his and Dick’s plan into action. And he’s going to spend it with his boyfriend. (or, In Which Kaldur And Roy Go On A Date And Everything Is Beautiful And Nothing Hurts)

I have other fics that I've enjoyed writing, but these are the ones I want to pin for easy access.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.