#but I think a close second of things that bring him joy on the job is just sneaking up and scaring the living daylights out of people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burningcheese-merchant · 5 months ago

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I WILL NOW BE PRESENTING MY BURNINGCHEESE EVIDENCE TO THE COURT

It is Sunday. I have free time. There are people out there who still do not ship BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. This offends me. You all must now endure Maximum Annoyance in retaliation.

Exhibit A: The description of Burning Spice's throne decor ends with this line: "Now, after tasting the sweet joy of destruction and chaos, Burning Spice Cookie sits and meditates... waiting for the perfect moment to hunt down his prey."

This is most likely referring to Golden Cheese herself. She is constantly, directly called "prey" (and also "bird") by the Wild Spices throughout the story. Burning Spice himself calls his seeking of her "the bird hunt".

Smoked Cheese also remarks at one point that Burning Spice could probably go after them whenever he wishes; he's just toying with them, watching them go. Playing cat-and-mouse.

Two things can be drawn from all of this:

Burning Spice talks about Golden Cheese so often, and calls her "bird" and "prey" so often, that his forces have adopted these nicknames he's given her and now think of her as them themselves

Burning Spice has been sitting on his throne and watching/keeping track of her for literal hours, if not even longer than that. And he does that instead of just getting up and going after her immediately because he likes watching and chasing her. (ADDITIONAL NOTE: He yells "ALL THE WAITING I'VE ENDURED... FOR THIS?!" at her later on, further proving that he's spent for-fucking-ever just thinking about her and their meeting/fight. I will address this line again later.)

Exhibit B: As soon as Golden Cheese appears within his line of sight, he stops caring about anything else. Nutmeg Tiger speaks directly to him and he completely ignores her. He does not acknowledge Smoked Cheese in any way. He does not acknowledge the Spice Swarm in any way. The entire episode, the Wild Spices are combing every inch of their territory in search of her, claiming over and over again that if they bring her to Burning Spice, he will shower them with praise and glory. But when this finally happens, when they succeed in holding her in place and stalling for time for Burning Spice to arrive, no such thing happens. Burning Spice acknowledges nothing and no one except for her. It's as if time has stopped. Like the earth has ceased to rotate on its axis. All that exists in the universe is himself and Golden Cheese.

Exhibit C: First thing he says to her is "Finally... we meet." An expression of joy and relief that he finally gets to be face-to-face with her. Second thing is calling her the thief who stole the other half of his Soul Jam. THIRD THING IS A GODDAMN COMPLIMENT.

Of all the words of tongue and pen he could have chosen to give her. The cruel insults. The petty jabs. The cocky assertion of his impending victory over her. Even a single nod and commendation of his soldiers' hard work, even in passing. Nope. No, sir. All that time he spent waiting to meet her, all the time he had to think of something to say to her, and he chooses to say "hey, you did a sweet job of beating the shit out of my general, I fucking loved it" (and he honestly said it super weird. Go back and listen to the line. Listen closely to his tone. He sounds borderline flirtatious/seductive, I swear to God)

Exhibit D: Mr. Creepshot over here starts his gacha animation doing the yin-yang pose with Golden Cheese, and the way he opens his eyes and looks at her almost makes it look like he's either trying to peek up her collar at her chest, or trying to peek up her skirt:

Look at that twinkle in his eye. The predatory grin on his face. He is ZEROED IN on her. He looks like he wants to eat her for every meal of the day (and I don't just mean literally). Jail. Immediately.

Exhibit E: He does not stop smiling ONCE during their entire interaction, from the second he shows up to the end of their fight (and then he goes back to smiling like a maniac at her soon after anyway). He is grinning at her like he's the Joker and she's his Batman (and we all know how... attached to Batman Joker is lol). He looks like this - like she - is the only fun he's had in a long, long time. He is HAPPY to see her, even in this evil, deranged way.

Exhibit F: He looks at her like this:

No man that looks at a woman like this has holy intentions, I'm telling you. Wrath's not the only sin on his mind right now. Line directly below may or may not be related :)

Exhibit G: Some of his overworld dialogue seems to allude to Golden Cheese specifically.

"I do enjoy my prey to have a little fight in them!" - he says this exact line directly to her face in the story

"Why, I, too, once had things I held dear." - He's talking to you, the player. This is something he says when you tap on him in his little lobby. But it can be argued that he's talking to Golden Cheese, as well. He might be thinking of her, referencing her specifically when he says this, because... that's her. SHE had things she held dear. Things she loved, things she lost. Things she grieves still. He knows this. He reminds her of it. He might almost be trying to acknowledge a connection with/to her, beyond them sharing the Light of Change. He was like her once. He had people he loved and lost. (Watch his interaction w/ Nutmeg Tiger in your kingdom, it'll all but tell you this.) They have a lot more in common than just a power source. Maybe he knows this. Maybe he's trying to express that, to you and to her.

"Abundance? Hah! More stuff to break..." - 555-COME-ON-NOW

"Sorry to break it to you... but nothing is eternal!" - Again, he's talking to you/us, but he could just as easily be talking to/thinking of her when he says this. Golden Cheese always championed her kingdom and her wealth as eternal. She essentially doubles down on this notion through her keeping them all alive inside a digital fantasy world. Episode 18 is literally titled "Goddess of Eternal Gold". He could be making a jab at her here.

"Cookies clinging to their little possessions... Pathetic!" and "In the end, everything becomes dust." - Double whammy. Him talking/thinking about her here can be further supported by what he says to her before he rips her wings off: "Ruler of a fallen kingdom. The Tide of Change will swallow you whole. You will crumble and become dust, like all those trinkets you treasured so." Again, he already knows her whole life story. He knows what happened to her. To her people. To everything and everyone she ever loved. He knows she loves trinkets. He knows she revels in opulence. He already knows her well enough to know what to say to her and how, to drive the knife in deepest. He calls her dust. He reminds her of all of her precious trinkets that she loved so damn much. She clings to her little possessions. She will become dust. Like her kingdom already did. Like everything one day will.

Exhibit H: When he wins their fight and he's holding her over the cliff, he yells "ALL THE WAITING I'VE ENDURED... FOR THIS?!" (we're back to this line, just like I said!) Before you bring up him wanting the Soul Jam back (which he does, I do not deny this), consider this: he makes no move whatsoever to take it back, even when he's got her in his grasp and the Soul Jam is inches from his face. He's got her beat, pinned, but he leaves it at that. He doesn't even mention the Soul Jam at all, not even once. All he does is yell and throw a huge tantrum about how their battle didn't go the way he wanted it to. He just go on and on about how it can't end like this. His bird hunt can't end like this. Where's the thrill? He honestly seems to care less about the Soul Jam and more about her. It's not the "the Soul Jam hunt", it's "the BIRD hunt". He wants his power back, of course. But that's not all he wants. He wants her. He's after her.

Additional point, that may or may not be enough to count as Exhibit I: In the beginning, Saffron Buffalo tells Golden Cheese that Burning Spice chose her. After she and Smoked Cheese kick his ass, he says now he understands WHY Burning Spice chose her, and he was wrong to doubt her and her strength.

It can be inferred from this, from Burning Spice's reaction to her, from his reaction to their fight, from his reaction to her swift loss, that Burning Spice thinks highly of her and her capabilities, at least in his own evil, violent way. Enough for it to be noticeable even to his subordinates. Enough that he would not bend the knee if and when questioned. Enough that he's beyond disappointed when their fight ends the way it does. He wanted more from her. He expected more from her. He had high hopes for her, right from the jump. And she let him down. Broke his dark heart.

Burning Spice has had Golden Cheese on his mind for God and the Witches know how long. He thought well enough of her to choose her. To proudly state that she meets his standards. He waited for her, again for who really knows how long. He sat and meditated on her, on his hunt for her, on their fated meeting and battle. He was beyond pleased when she once again proved her might to him by taking out his general (even better, he might have gotten to see it happen as he was approaching the scene). He all but purrs his words of contentment at her prowess at her (go back and listen to him when he says that line. Pay close attention to the tone and cadence of his voice. He sounds... a certain way when he's talking to her. He really does, I mean it). He's entirely too pleased to see her. He comes to life when they battle. He looks like this is the best day of his whole damn life so far. He's angry and bitter when she throws it all away to save an insignificant child. He's angry and bitter she's taken everything he's done, all the time and effort he's spent, for granted. He's bitter enough to take pot shots at her. To sprinkle some salt in her wounds, where he knows it'll hurt most. He KNOWS her. He WAITED for her. He expected so much of her. Of course he wants the Soul Jam back. But he's shown that he wants Golden Cheese herself just as much.

In conclusion:

#please note that this was all said in good fun #you obviously don't have to take anything i say seriously lol #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice

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theemporium · 1 year ago

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💰with Sirius??? He would absolutely just spoil spoil spoil reader with everything. Like that trend with dogs where the owners buy everyone the dog sniffs, he’d be following reader and buying anything she even vaguely grazes. She def hates it and feels bad everytime but he’s like “let my family’s name do one good thing for me and let me spend it all on you”

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“Sirius, put it down.”

“But you want it.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Love, I saw you staring at it for the last five minutes,” he countered, almost looking far too smug for your liking.

“Just because I look at something doesn’t mean you have to buy it for me,” you snapped back at him, trying to fight the urge to glance down at all the bags of stuff he had bought you during your trip through Diagon Alley so far. The pile was only getting bigger and it was starting to make you feel nauseous.

“But I want to buy it for you,” Sirius said with an easy smile on his face. “Would you really stop my happiness and wants because of your own selfishness, love?”

You shot him a look.

“In fact, this might be the only thing that brings me joy,” he continued as he stepped over the bags and reached for you. “This might be the only source of happiness in my sad, sad life.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous, Sirius Black.”

“No, I am just a man from a tragically rich family who wants to use his money to spoil his girl instead of buying those atrociously ugly dressing robes my mother keeps hinting at,” Sirius retorted, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the mere mention of the robes. “I saw Lucius in them the other day. It looked like a Hippogriff threw up on him.”

This time you let out a full laugh, boisterous and bellyful and definitely out of place in the high-end jewellers you were both currently standing in.

“Hm, although that laugh is a close second in making me happy,” Sirius murmured with a fond smile on his face.

“You do this every time,” you complained as your hands fisted the material of his shirt, fingers smoothing over the buttons. “You butter me up so I give in and let you buy me stuff.”

“It’s a strategy,” Sirius said proudly. “And it works.”

“You need to stop it before you waste all your money on me,” you told him with a shake of your head.

“It would never be a waste if it was on you, love,” Sirius told you, though his words were thick with emotion and sincerity as he cupped your face in his hands. “I want to give you everything you deserve.”

“But all I want is you,” you countered. “You are more than enough for me, Sirius. I don’t need you to flash or flaunt your money on me.”

“Yeah, but I like seeing the way you try to hide that smile of yours whenever you wear something I bought you,” Sirius said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “And I think that little diamond thing would look gorgeous on you.”

“It’s called a choker,” you laughed.

“I thought that was my job,” Sirius grinned back at you.

“Sirius!”

“What?! I am being serious!”

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scarlett-ggv · 5 months ago

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Reflection and perfection.

Bumblebee x Reader (I'm sorry if it's poorly worded, the translator is against me. IJDIHUEEDJI)

Maybe it's the wind gently blowing through your hair. Or the contribution of the sun by illuminating your face, allowing a better view of the tone of your eyes. Simply wonderful like those well-formed clouds that adorned the sky.

It was wonderful, magical, pretty… How can a person look so pretty and so real at the same time? You were there, right there. By your side, doing whatever you're doing and thinking about whatever you're thinking about. He can feel you, he can see you. It can see you from head to toe and how it undertakes a journey of a few centimeters through your hair to reach the ends of it, shiny.

It was just unreal. Spiritual and physical so unreal. How your eyes are the reflection of combined colors and a record of infinite scenarios united with natural sensations, so beautiful that they make those past memories that torment him day and night flee from his mind. Like a gust of wind, like a momentary illusion, fast and fleeting like a star.

But comparing you to a star wouldn't do justice to what he sees, only you. He longs for an opportunity, nothing more, but a look from you, enough to mark a feeling in his heart, with the same impact as a knife and a petal of the most fragile rose in his beautiful world. That was the mess inside him, it was uncomfortable not being able to control that when he saw your lips. It was, at the same time, also charming, charming those thoughts that abound in just a couple of seconds, involuntary. Where every time you do your job, a small smile tries to appear. An unknown sensation when thinking about your lips, with violent depth, longing as before to touch them, feel them and maybe, just maybe, be the owner of them, one day. Just someday.

If I could, I would look for the exact place inside his mind to find the very word of what he can feel about you, even if it is minimal. I would force everyone to feel it, to see if they are also amazed by the sensation. Everything about you.

Coming from another world was no longer so strange for him, he had met other humans, other customs and faces. I had discovered attitudes and above all that gesture of joy when you saw the team also bringing with them their own happiness. Impossible to ignore. Primus knew it, and she knew that he knew what she felt every exact moment when he was with her at every inexact moment.

''I know you do''

Those words ended the comfortable silence that existed between them and Bumblebee almost tensed when he heard that voice that according to him is synonymous with enjoying hearing a bird sing in nature and the perfect synchronization of instruments that together make a melody. He knows what you mean, you know he's looking at you

He saw you turn around looking at him, a clash of glances, innocent for you and a loss for him, so much so that it seems like you're doing it on purpose, perfection impossible. You blinked, and he nodded lntamene, without taking his gaze off your face, he doesn't hesitate, he stays like that.

''I know'' he thinks, unable to speak and express with a few words so many things stored inside him, he has the radio but it is not the same. He is not ashamed to look at your lips, close. He runs over your face from your lips to a trip back to your eyes, while you smile, closing your eyes and turning around again, shy, he loves it.

You feel small, you are. You notice it every time you remember that your height is synonymous with the difference between you, worlds and species. There is a hint of guilt, but you know that nothing will happen, never mutual. But him? He doesn't want to waste time, time is for now gold, like exhausted Energon… So valuable, reminding him how unfair life is when deciding that your steps on earth will disappear in a few years, that he will no longer be able to help you. contemplate as now. So unfair.

Él pone una mano en tu barbilla dubitativamente, algo dubitativo pero que no se nota, dejas de sonreír y te concentras en la situación, tragas saliva, mirándolo a los ojos siendo incapaz de apartar la mirada, ni a ningún lado… Él aparta la mirada. Te mira. Hubiera sido solo un beso lo que hubiera cambiado todo, el destino de ambos y tantas cosas. Pero sabe que será un recuerdo, y duele. Ese pensamiento duele mientras los segundos pasan y siguen como están. Hubiera bastado solo un movimiento para lograr lo que anhela. Pero no puede. Él nunca fue un cobarde, había luchado junto a Optimus Prime como mano derecha para eliminar algunos decepticons, pero en cuanto a sentimientos tampoco lo era. ¿Qué cambió? Nada, fue solo tu presencia.

He left you, looked ahead, taking his gaze away from yours. You hesitated, you thought. You turned around a little nervously without smiling while you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, adjusted your book and remained silent. He looked ahead, the timing of this scenario combined with your beauty and feelings would have been so perfect, but he is not capable. So, now both of us sitting looking at the landscape, alone. They know and are aware of what is happening. But no one speaks

You speak, he looks at you out of the corner of his eye for a second when you do, wanting to say so many things, but he can't. Answering you in his mind.

''The landscape is beautiful''

''I know''

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

I'm sorry if the writing is rubbish, I have two reasons.

1.- I am new to writing

2.- I speak Spanish and I use the translator. It's their fault, I swear! AJJSDHJKSAJHAJJAJ

Bye <3

#bumblebee x reader #Bumblebee #Transformers x reader #X reader #Bumblebee movie #Transformers #Lector x Robot #Bumblebee imagine #Transformers: Rise of the beast #I'm obsessed with this handsome guy #Beeyoteamocasateconmigoporfa #Platonic #AMO A MI HOMBRE

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itsohh · 1 year ago

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Flying Too Close to the Sun

AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.

Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.

Word count: 6746

Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut

Masterlist AO3

Greece 2020

“All I ask is that you give it a go-”

“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior.

Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you.

“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”

“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”

“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table.

It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry.

“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you.

“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”

England 2024

The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you.

Sam Fisher.

“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”

“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”

“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”

Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up.

“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear.

Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food.

“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table.

“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.

“I'm your wildcard?”

“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”

“And what is this Sam?”

“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face.

“I want to assign him to your care.”

“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”

“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took.

“Azami. She joined after you left-”

“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious.

“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless.

“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”

“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”

“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”

“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”

“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”

“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.”

He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”

Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only.

You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.

In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed.

You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top.

“What's this?” You asked.

He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table.

“Uniform.”

You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow.

“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”

“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “

You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar.

Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died.

“This here is your pager.”

“Pager?”

“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.”

“Alright.”

“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.”

Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second.

“Better get moving then.”

Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.”

“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”

“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.

“Interrogation?”

“Yeah, doing it here.”

You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already.

He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you.

“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.”

“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.

“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?”

“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh.

“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.”

So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale.

Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room.

To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”

“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg.

“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.”

“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound.

“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”

“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed.

He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”

“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”

“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.”

The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside.

Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted.

“I told you not to move.”

“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice.

“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.”

His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”

“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr.

Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again.

The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway.

You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched.

Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off.

The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.”

You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.”

“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door.

“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.”

“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him.

“How's the rest of the base?”

“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.�� Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit.

“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled.

“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.”

“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room.

“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”

At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed.

Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”

“Are you planning to do something?” She accused.

“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”

“No.”

At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”

“Why are you so protective of him?”

“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”

Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair.

“All this fuss for little ol’ me…”

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.”

After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you.

“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”

“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”

“I don't take chances.”

Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment.

A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.”

Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”

A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake.

There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table.

You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep.

There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on.

Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms.

Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver.

Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall.

The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand.

A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly.

Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr.

“Stay in your room, Gerald.”

“Room? This cell? I don't think so.”

Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger.

You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground.

Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw.

“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”

Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke.

“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”

“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”

He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.”

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up.

“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?”

“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”

“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”

“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips.

“Why?”

“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.”

“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”

Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken.

“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier.

“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were.

The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head.

Would have it been better if you stayed in bed?

A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”

Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch.

“It's bruised but you can handle that.”

You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything.

“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.”

He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”

He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”

“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”

“Even if it meant killing you in the process?”

“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.

“Open up sweetheart.”

You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed.

“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”

“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”

“It's been two days. Eat.”

“You knocked me out for two days?!”

“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed.

“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed.

Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face.

“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”

“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”

“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”

Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that.

“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.”

Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.”

“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope.

You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover.

You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused.

A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.

The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked.

The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck.

He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name.

“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“To me, your presence changes everything. ”

His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.

“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it.

“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”

“Fuck you!”

The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together.

“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”

This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you.

He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him.

“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”

Your breath hitched and he paused his movement.

“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”

“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”

“You're a bastard.”

His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.

“I'm not hearing a no.”

You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more.

“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance.

“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”

“I…”

“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.”

Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone.

He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape.

Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him.

From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up.

You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you.

His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips.

Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face.

Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch.

“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.”

“I'm in my pyjamas- ”

He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease.

Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.

“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside.

All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall.

There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.

Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest.

“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears.

The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him.

Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.

Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings.

You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.

The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table.

No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it.

You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks.

They weren't.

“What are you planning to do with that birdy?”

Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form.

You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised.

“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people.

“And why’s that?”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven't?”

“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”

“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”

“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”

“I did what was right to stop-”

“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.”

Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet.

“Don't move.”

He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes.

“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”

His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.

Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back.

“Not going to shoot?”

“Rainbow wants you alive.”

He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence.

You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed.

#r6s #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege #deimos x reader #gerald morris

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poisonsage808 · 1 month ago

Note

Hi, I don't have a lot of specifications , I just need some Munch relationship headcanons or Munch and reader having a kid idk.

Please and thank you.

Im gonna be a pain in your ass (lovely <3) since you are the only one posting Munch things.

p.s: Sorry for the bad english, its not my first language and im using the translator

a/n: i don’t do familial requests, however i will be making an exception for this man because i loOoOove the idea of him as a father. your english is great, thank you for the ask! munchkin lovers are a welcome pain in my ass <33 per usual, i tried to keep this gender neutral for everyone’s enjoyment

John Munch x Reader

“This so-called parenting book? Garbage. If I wanted to be judged by a middle aged white lady, I would’ve went to the park and asked one her opinion on childrearing! I could’ve saved us time, money— not to mention brain cells.”

“Time and brain cells, yes, it was a bad book,” you admit, snatching it from his grip before he tossed it in the trash, “but it’s not ours.”

John steals the book back, snickering as he holds it high above your head,

“You got that from the library? That’s it, I’m returning our cards, we’re never going back there!”

You laugh, slapping his arm and still reaching for the book, “John!”

Surprisingly carelessly, he drops it to the floor and makes a grab for your hand instead. He hooks an arm around your waist and brings you in as close as he can. Softly, Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me) is introduced on the radio and John grins fiendishly. You don’t have time to wonder if he’s nervous or feeling spontaneous when he starts dancing you around the kitchen.

“We got this right?” He asks quietly, resting his cheek against your head.

“It’s a little late to be asking that now but…” You press a kiss to his neck, smiling against his jumping pulse, “Yeah. We got this, love.”

He’s done everything he ever wanted, and then some, lived almost every experience there was to, found the love of his life. Happy didn’t begin to cover it! He didn’t know how it could possibly get better. He’s overflowing with joy, eyes watery where his mirth escapes. Behind you, he’s able to see straight into the nursery that he never thought, didn’t dare hope, would be occupied with a Munchkin of his own.

• Here’s the deal: you can have the first name, you can have the middle name, you can even have the last hyphenated! He just wants “Munch” at the very end… He also gets 3 vetos— no, 5 because he remembers what you named your childhood pet

• Once his office, now a nursery is a pleasant pale mix of your favorite colors. You paint the walls, build a crib and decorate the room together. He doesn’t want to miss out on a single experience, suffers through a two hour shopping spree and can count his complaints on one hand. He’s grateful he did too, now every time he steps inside to check on the baby he’s flooded with those fond memories

• You take night feeds and he handles the morning ones, that’s the routine during his time off. John may not be one for rigid schedules but he doesn’t mess around with the baby, or you. He really forces you to take advantage of him while he’s home. Has food there when you wake up, makes sure you get rest, cleans up while you feed the baby, swoops in to steal said baby so you can have a break

• You think apart of the aforementioned is guilt, like being a detective is his mistress, John feels bad he wants to go back to work. For weeks he could stay trapped in this happy bubble, living in pajamas and tiredly laughing as you both just stared at your sleeping kid. But he’s not ready to leave his job yet, it beacons him back to reality eventually

• Whatever book he was reading before they woke up, the newspaper, the billboard across the street, John’s always reading to the baby. Every night ends with his all time favorite, The Velveteen Rabbit

• Nicknames galore, he’s got ammunition for months. Along with the references you don’t always understand, “Munchkin” comes second to “bug”. Cuddle-bug, love-bug, stink-bug, little-bug, hungry-bug, silly-bug. Unfortunately for your kid, it stuck.

- Don will smirk delivering a message from you, “There’s a Bug problem waiting for you at home.”

- “Oh, let me say hi to Bug.” Olivia says while already taking the phone from him.

- “‘Sup, Munch, where’s The Big Bad Bug at?” Fin will ask, pushing through the door per his godfather rights.

- Eliot kicks a diaper box under his desk every other month, Love The Stabler’s in Kathy’s handwriting on the side, and in his own, For the Stink Bug.

• John’s stupidly proud. Right next to you in his wallet, framed on his desk, phone screensaver, is Bug. He always hated those parents that would shove ugly baby pictures in his face and say ‘isn’t my kid the cutest?’ so he doesn’t do that, god help anyone who asks about his baby, though

• Hard days hit harder when he comes home late to a quiet house. John’s quiet, desperate enough to ghost a kiss to your forehead but prays he doesn’t wake you. Then he sits in the nursery, forehead against the wood of Bug’s crib and watches the rise and fall of their little chest, abundantly grateful for each breath they took

• John’s determined not to be his father, sometimes that dark shadow stretches and you have to give him a hard push into the light. Logically he knows he’s a good dad, he’s doing everything right— arbitrary word for parenting but, you digress— and it still won’t feel like enough.

- “You’re so good with Bug,” you say, kissing his shoulder as you join the snuggle pile.

- “Aw, did you miss your dad? Yeah?” You answer for the giggling baby as they reach for him.

Hearing it from you makes all the difference in the world

• He missed so many firsts that he tears up when Bug starts walking. Clear as day, he’ll remember it for the rest of his life, you sat across from him showing off how well Bug could stand. Then one step, two, towards him. Swooping them off the floor and pulling you into his arms, he kissed you both no less than a thousand times.

• By the way he doesn’t want Bug’s first word to be “dadda”. He aims for “defund”. What? Babies can make the b, f and d sound, it’s not impossible!

“Jeez, honey, are you planning on taking them to a protest already?” You asked incredulously.

“Didn’t I tell you? There’s one Thursday in front of City Hall. I’ll try to get us a photo in the front page for you.” John shoots back with a cheeky grin, turning his attention back to the babbling baby, “C’mon Bug, dee-fun-duh, you can do it!”

• His list of favorites is getting longer than War and Peace, he loves everything about his kid. He loves seeing traits of you in Bug, determined, kind, patient, that adorable little smile that lights up any room. Stubborn, curious, too smart for their own good, with selective hearing at times might stem from him. He still loves it. He loves watching Bug’s mind hard at work when doing a puzzle or figuring out how to say something or expressing their big emotions

• He loves being a dad

• Every time he thought he couldn’t be happier, he ends up smiling so much his cheeks hurt

#john munch imagine #john munch x reader #svu x reader #hlots x reader #x reader #imagine #parent headcanon #poiboidrabbles #ask stuff #fiction #parent reader

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slxsherwriter · 1 year ago

Text

The Little Wheel Squeals

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x reader

Word Count: 1,768

Warnings: None

Author's note: Part one of the Nanowrimo fics that I am attempting. The next part in my Rusty Nail series. Hope everyone enjoys. As always, not Beta read.

A heavy sigh escaped you as the last remnants of glass were swept up and into the dust bin, to be tossed away and forgotten. A reminder that while you were mostly alone out here, you weren't completely alone. Being on your own didn't bother you, after all you knew that Rusty needed to be on the road for extended periods of time. It was just what the job was. Nothing that he could be faulted for or have held against him. You had known that at the very start, plenty of life experience telling you that it was something that you could handle. But it was moments like these, when idiots decided to break in, thinking that no one was home or that the house was abandoned, that being on your own felt a little unnerving and had you longing for the moment that Rusty was walking back through that door.

You had been home this time when the window had smashed, the sound reaching you upstairs, where the knock had not. Immediately, you had been concerned and reached for the bat that had been insisted upon for protection in his absence. They hadn't been a very difficult group to deal with, actually for the most part not looking to cause any trouble. Simply looking for help, which you were happy to give. Even if the one guy in the group caused you to feel uneasy. A feat that took a lot given your typical generous, forgiving nature. Something had just seemed off about him, causing you to keep the bat close while you allowed them to use the phone to call out for someone to pick them up. Their car had broken down at some point miles up the road and they had been wandering since.

The story was believable. It happened more often than not around here since your home was situated in nearly the middle of nowhere. Rusty had told after he had first shown you the house that he had picked the spot because of the land and the privacy. It was an oasis, a place to go away from people and away from the mess of being on the road. A concept that was easy to digest and something that could be understood on a deep level. After all, when your father had come home, he had said the same thing. Apparently though, more stragglers than anticipated tended through the area.

Still, you had taken to the home, not quite moving in but spending far more time at his place than your own, which was technically the next state over. You occasionally would head home on weekends, especially ones that he worked. The old house was not something that you could bring yourself to get rid of and debated asking Rusty to move out with you. It wasn't quite as isolated but it was a piece of paradise all on it's own. The thought of the conversation once again swirled before being tossed to the side for later examination.

Seeing them picked up and head off had a relief washing over you, enough so to make you sag back against the porch for just a second. There was work that needed to be done. Namely, cleaning up the rest of the broken glass and finish patching up what you could of the window until there was a new one delivered. Windows were always a pain in the ass.

As the glass hit the bottom of the can, you were greeted with the sound of a deep rumbling engine. Rusty was home. All the worry from before, the agitation, and concern over the man that had made you feel uneasy melted away. He was finally home.

Moving to the front door to greet him, you watched as his shoulders dropped from where they had been tensed, how his fingers unfurled, hands hanging loosely at his sides for a moment, and a small, genuine smile come to his face. Whether he realized you were there or not yet remained unknown, but you took in the moment to appreciate the fact that he was finally relaxing.

"Welcome home," you finally offered as you moved over without any prompting and wrapped your arms around him. Road grim be damned, you needed a shower anyway.

"Hey, sweetheart." The words came out in that comforting rumble that had you closing your eyes before you could help it. The heavy, familiar weight of his arm dropping to your shoulders was an added bonus as he hugged you back. "Missed you."

"Missed you too. Trip was too long this time." As much as you wanted to agree, there was also a fear of him interpreting it as a concern about his occupation.

"It was a long one this time. But you're home now and that is what matters." You sighed softly as you took a deep breath in. "Why don't you go shower up and I'll get something thrown together for you to eat." You would ask him about the plans for the evening after that, letting him get in the door and truly relaxed after it all. Which meant cleaned up with a proper shower and a good meal that wasn't from a truck stop diner.

"Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. Jacket on the hook and boots off, he headed towards the bathroom, entirely missing the broken window that you still had to finish at least patching up so nothing could get through it and into the house during the night. Both animals and insects. Food for Rusty first.

You were finishing with the little makeshift board when he came wandering back into the room, smelling of his eucalyptus shower gel and something else. Without the hat on, his eyes were clear and obviously focused right on you.

"What happened?" That hard edge that he was careful to keep from you came out. Always the protective one. "And when?"

"This evening. Small group came around, thinking that no one was home. They needed to call for help. Let them use the phone after everything was explained and they headed off maybe about an hour before you got home?" You watched as something changed, the tension in his jaw obvious from the clench. All before it vanished. "It wasn't anything too bad. They are gone and it's over." there seemed to be gears turning as his eyes jumped from you to look around the room. Or a simple method of calming himself down.

"You sure?"

"Watched them drive off myself. Made the one that offered to stay behind for the tow truck go right along with them and had the bat at my side the entire time."

"That's a good girl." The praise sent a little warmth through you but now was not the time.

"Come on, eat your food before it gets cold. Then, can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?" You just wanted to be close, feeling him against you, smell him. Be encompassed by his presence in every sense possible. Rusty was safety and had been that since he had first picked you up on the side of the road. And you were admittedly still feeling a little off. Not a fact that you wanted to disclose to the man. The anger disappeared after a long second before he was walking over to you and his warm lips met your forehead.

"Course, darling. If that's what you want, that's what we will do."

"Only after you eat." Wanting to make sure he was taken care of, you had to insist that he ate before anything else. He glanced at the plate before chuckling softly.

"How about this? We curl up on the couch, and I eat while having you laying against me?" That impossibly large hand that you loved, pressed against your hip though he didn't move to bring you any closer together.

"I think I can settle on that compromise." Leaning up, your lips brushed over his cheek this time, a gentle affection that you were happy to shower the man in since he did it in return.

"Good. Go turn on the TV and find something to watch. I'll be right there." He used the touch that he had on you to send you off towards the living room. All would be right in the world with a night of snuggling close to your man. You made sure to stop at the closet and grab that worn blanket that was just perfect for the cooler nights. Though Rusty was practically a human furnace. Still, it was fun to have you both under it and cuddled together. It gave that nice cozy feeling that could put you right to sleep, no matter what was happening around you or had happened.

Settling on the couch, it only took Rusty an additional two minutes to join you, a plate of chicken and potatoes piled practically sky high. Oh yeah, he was fine and hadn't needed dinner at all. You could have laughed at the portions, but then again, he was a big man. You pulled the blanket back, knowing that he would need to eat before he could get under it, least anything ended up on it.

There was a relieved groan as he settled back into the worn couch, kicking his legs out in front of him.

"Anything else happen while I was away?" You shook your head.

"No, it was pretty quiet. I honestly thought I was going to get away with no one showing up before you got home from this trip." Reaching out, your hand lightly rubbed the back of his neck while he began to eat.

"Shouldn't have been anyone at all." You laughed softly.

"Kinda hard to be in a spot where no one else exists. We are pretty close for the most part." He grunted around a mouthful of potato but didn't say anything else about it. Neither did you, choosing to let him eat the remainder of the meal in silence.

The plate had barely hit the table beside the couch when he had his arm around you. The familiar weight and warmth immediately had you melting against him, shifting and resting your head against his shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you felt truly at ease for the first time all day.

"Comfortable?"

"Never been better." A low rumbling laugh left him and you felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

"Can't say I can complain about a homecoming like this."

#slasher writing #horror writing #slasher x reader #rusty nail x reader #rusty nail joyride #rusty nail #joy ride #slasher fic #slasher fandom #slasher x you

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rascallyrose92 · 2 months ago

Text

Continuation of this post

Elise is able to find peace after Solaris gets extinguished, but what about Sonic? How did he find his peace?

Well, I believe that starts in Secret Rings. I mean, they reference Iblis, so why wouldn’t they reference other things from 06? Also the same guy who helped write 06 also helped with this so-

Anyways, throughout SR, Sonic and a genie named Shahra collect seven objects called World Rings. Like the chaos emeralds, they make the wielded of all seven very powerful, but thats where the similarities end. Each ring represents an aspect thats part of the Arabian Nights stories. Hope, Sadness, Rage, Hatred, Joy, Pleasure, and Desire.

Sonic physically collects each one bc Shahra can’t and each time he touches one, it intensifies the corresponding emotion within him. This combined with his life force being slowly consumed by a flame meant Sonic was in for a bad time. And it doesn’t end there.

Shahra sadly betrays Sonic at the last second bc Erazor was an abusive jerk who let her believe that they had a chance to be together again.

But since Shahra made Sonic her master, he wishes for her to do what she thinks is right. So she switched back to Sonic’s side, and just when Erazor is about to kill Sonic, the person who collected the rings, so he could control the rings’ power, Shahra sacrifices herself in Sonic’s stead.

Since the person who died wasn’t the collector of the rings, Erazor’s control was incomplete, leaving the rings susceptible to outside control.

Sonic just saw his friend die, so the rings that he attracts are pretty negative. Specifically, Sadness, Anger, and Hatred. These rings turn him into Darkspine Sonic. But throughout the game he’s gotten a little used to intensified emotions, so he’s able to channel it into defeating Alf-Layla wa-Layla (Erazor’s super form).

In other words, this game gets him up close and personal to his feelings, specifically his negative one. This makes it much harder for him to ignore the impact 06 had on him, so he confronts it via “Worth a Chance”.

Now that he’s more in tune with his emotions, he has to deal with becoming a monster every night, and confront another thing hiding deep inside his heart.

His love for Amy.

You see, another gift 06 has bestowed upon us is the confirmation that not only is Sonic in love with Amy, he has been for a while. Such a while in fact, that she’s referred to as his “long time love”.

Having a crush on another girl ironically brings his other crush into more focus, especially since they are similar to each other (he rescued them when they first met, both love hugs, have short reddish hair, wear pretty dresses, are determined, like thrills, are associated with light things (feathers and rose petals), he prioritized their safety over a chaos emerald (fake or not), etc). In fact, its due to their similarities that Amy and Elise become such good friends.

What makes it harder to ignore these feelings is that while he could run from Amy, he couldn’t run from Elise. She was still in danger, and he wanted to keep her safe until Eggman was stopped.

And it all culminated in the Test of Love, where Sonic had to choose between Elise and Amy. In game, no matter who you choose you get an S rank. I believe this means that the player did a better job than Sonic did, bc he didn’t choose.

Not only does that make sense for his character at the time, it also adds more angst when he sees Elise die. It’s like the narrative is telling him “Oh, you can’t choose? Fine, we’ll choose for you.”

But then the whole thing with Solaris happens, and he’s still left with memories. Or at least deja vu. And being the only one to remember that stuff isn’t good for your psyche, especially if it’s hard for you to open up.

So Sonic Team put him through emotion exposure therapy to make him deal with it. And he did. He got over 06, and now he had the mental space to deal with his feelings for Amy.

Finally we get to talk about Unleashed.

We all know that Sonic becomes a monster thanks to Dr Eggman pulling a dirty trick on him, but how does that affect him?

Well, simply put, he hates it.

Oh he puts on a good face about it, saying that he’s fine, its just that he’d stand out in town (as if he didn’t already).

But when someone doesn’t believe he’s actually Sonic, he does everything under the sun to prove it’s really him. He runs an old man’s errands bc he said he would get rid of his Werehog form. And when he first reverts back, he fixates on the weirdness of werehog form and is very happy to be his real self again. Thats not the behavior of someone who doesn’t care one way or the other.

But his feelings about his werehog form get to truly shine when Amy meets him.

Naturally, she flings herself into his arms and while he’s half-heartedly telling her to let go, he’s clearly happy to see her.

But then she lets go, and gets a good look at him.

Amy pushes him away. Says that she’s sorry and that she’d mistaken him for someone else, and leaves.

It makes sense that she’d do that since she’s mistaken others for Sonic before, bc she sensed him nearby and was just too excited.

But Sonic doesn’t know that. So he’s sad and confused as to why she left him like that. Then Chip points out that he looks different. And he sulkily stomps off, ignoring Chip’s attempts to cheer him up.

The next time we see them is when Amy is in danger. And they do a nod to Sonic CD’s ending cutscene as if we weren’t floored already.

(As nice as it would be to take the credit of this discovery, I found it on the trivia part of the Sonic Unleashed wiki page)

Sonic still cares about her, but he’s depressed since she didn’t recognize him.

But then, Amy figures it out, and she apologizes, and genuinely says that no matter what he looks like, she’d still love him.

You heard it from the girl herself, she would love Sonic if he was a worm.

Oh, another thing is that one of the side quests you can do has Sonic listening to a love guru who says that he may be “as free as the wind, but (he’s) also kinda awkward”.

It may be funny at first glance but this is huge. Sonic’s seeking advice on how to deal with love. He isn’t avoiding it anymore!

And the game ends with Amy asking Sonic out (as usual), and he says yes.

How do I know that? SATBK’s credits ends with Sonic telling Amy abt the adventure but she’s mad bc he ‘stood her up’, and he flirts with Lady Nimue (Amy’s counterpart). Thats why I consider this game to be the end of Sonic stories. It wraps everything up in a nice little bow (with a few strands that Sega sabotaged).

Oh one more thing I should mention. Of the four games I’ve talked about, only one has original songs by Crush 40

Its a subtle way of indicating that Sonic’s off his game. He’s back on it by SATBK, with his theme song acknowledging his ‘haitus’ (‘Hey all, welcome to the greatest storm! I know you have waited much too long, and I (and I) will be your shining star.’).

Anyways, thats all I’ve got, lmk if I missed anything!!!

#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #character analysis #meta #sonamy #i mean what did u expect lol #sonic 06 #sonic and the secret rings #sonic unleashed #sonic and the black knight #rosy monologues

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summerdiphylleia · 1 year ago

Text

The next right thing

Chapter 2: The Quarter Quell Announcement

Summary: The 74th Hunger Games were over, and Felicia ought to have anticipated how often she'd find herself pondering over what could've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

***********

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Felicia forced her eyes shut, waiting for the bangs that announced the death of the tributes to go off, but they never did. She flinched when the voice of a man echoed through the room instead.

“Stop!”

If Seneca Crane had been a smarter man, he would’ve kept quiet.

“Stop!” She heard the gamemaker shout once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.”

Felicia went still, as images of the District 12 tributes –victors, she corrected herself– embracing each other glided through the screen. She knew she ought to feel happy about it, surely all of the Capitol was celebrating, but Felicia couldn’t bring herself to share such joy. She was happy the tributes –victors– were alive, but she’d seen something more in their actions than simply two young people in love that could not survive without each other. She’d seen defiance. And she was sure her husband had seen it too. A daunting frown claimed her face, and her hands were closed into fists so tight she could barely feel her nails attempting to dig into the skin of her palms. Katniss Everdeen had defied the Capitol, and the Capitol had allowed it. Worse, it had rewarded it.

The television had gone black by the time she jumped from her seat, and started hurrying through the manor’s empty hallways. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lan was following her path. He moved like a cat, barely making any sound, but the man had been like a shadow to her for the most of twenty years, and took his job of protecting her very seriously. He was a tall man, surprisingly fit for someone who was around her age. More often than not a calculating scowl claimed his features; and she took pride in knowing that his rare smiles were reserved for her. She didn’t like thinking about what she’d do without him.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Felicia.” He warned her, taking up a vigilant stance just outside the room. It had been nothing but a whisper, but she had understood. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, her apprehension mirrored in his gaze, and she nodded, before moving forward.

Felicia walked into the sunroom, and found her husband tending to the roses. He was standing with his back towards her, but she could already tell he was livid. He stood rigid in his feet, as his arms worked stiffly against the flowers, occasionally cutting them with more force that was necessary.

She approached him, keeping a steady, dull pace. “Coriolanus?” She asked, calmly.

The President didn’t move at the sound of her voice, as if he had been expecting her already. He kept on trimming the roses, and a heavy silence filled the air between the two. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked, voice trembling just the slightest. He turned around, slightly taken aback by her question. It wasn’t usual at all for her to acknowledge such things, and he didn’t like it when she stepped out of his comfort zone. It wasn’t her place to question his actions. He let confusion show on his face for just a few seconds, before his lips split into a smile.

“Well, he had a very simple choice to make. I’m just going to present him with another very simple choice.” He shrugged, as he drew nearer her, while cleaning the pruning scissors on a cloth.

Felicia gulped, and shifted uncomfortably in her place. “And her?” She wondered if she was crossing a line by making such a question, a dangerous line. She’d always been so sure such a thing would never exist when it came to her, as she’d always spoken somewhat freely around her husband, but the look on the President’s face made her think otherwise.

She insisted that the Games were barbaric and maintained her stance on that. In return, he insisted that they were necessary and maintained his stance on that. It had always been like that. But never had someone from the districts dare to defy him in the way Katniss Everdeen just had. Or at least they hadn’t done so in front of the cameras, showcasing their actions to the whole of Panem.

“As long as she understands that what she’s done, she’s done for love, she should be no problem.” He said, throwing the scissors into a cushion. “You must be happy with how everything turned out.” He muttered, as he lifted his hand to gently stroke her cheek.

“I am,” she sighed, frozen by his touch, “two children get to live.”

“Hm, darling,” he chuckled, leaving a kiss on her temple, “you can be so naive sometimes.”

***********

The Games were left behind and the air started to cool, as Felicia eased into her usual routine once again. She wrote letters, attended charity events and couture fittings, helped Theodore with his Academy homework, bought unnecessary decoration for the mansion, visited her children at the hospital; hosted hollow, vacuous parties for Panem’s high society.

With the cold, her already aching arthritis got worse, and she was instructed by her medics to use a walking staff, to help her ease her sore ankles. But it only helped in making her feel impossibly old.

“Everyone’s going to make fun of me!” Felicia complained one night, in front of her family. She stood barefoot against the velvety rug, switching the cane from one hand to the other, playfully showing it off. Her two older children had come to the manor for a casual dinner earlier, and the five of them had moved onto the sitting room to enjoy some tea. Night had fallen terribly cold outside, but the interiors of the manor were warm and cosy, as it had been instructed that every fireplace within shall be lighted.

“You’re Panem’s First Lady,” Arabella laughed, “no one is going to make fun of you.” She remarked, as she sat next to Coriolanus on the sofa, with a cup of warm tea in her hand. Max and Arabella had been spending so much more time in the manor lately, and Felicia was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. Whether their newfound fondness for being with her stemmed from a sense of responsibility as she aged or a simple desire to visit her, she didn’t know. She chose to believe the latter.

“But surely everyone will think of me as an old bat,” she whined in a silly fashion, as Max walked towards her.

“I promise no one will think that”, he reassured her, while resting a gentle arm around her shoulders.

“Hm, I might.” Coriolanus sneered from his place on the couch, holding back a smile.

Felicia gasped, and theatrically put a hand against her chest, pretending to be utterly offended at his comment. Arabella grabbed a cushion and playfully hit him with it, “no you won’t!” She warned his father, as the two boys kept on cackling.

“Best thing about this staff, mom,” Theo explained, taking the walking stick from her hands, weighing it in his hands,“is that if anyone dares making such comments, you get to do this!” He dashed against his father, and repeatedly patted on him with it, acting as if he were hitting him.

The boy’s action managed to break Coriolanus’ stoic facade, and his laughter started to echo through the room alongside the rest of his family’s.

Scenes like that one repeated themselves in the months that followed, as snow stubbornly settled into the city, and life in the Capitol finally appeared to be returning back to normal. But Felicia heard the reports —information not meant for her ears, but the manor could be an awfully small place to keep such volatile secrets. Rebellions were happening all over the country; no amount of peacekeepers were enough to keep the insurrection in District 8 at bay, and District 11 was at the brink of following their lead.

Coriolanus refused to share such things with her, limiting his conversations with her to trivial matters, which had started to put a veil between the two. He kept on retreating into himself, and she noticed he was being more paranoid than ever; cameras had made their way into every room in the manor, their bedroom included. And, although she had no way of proving it, she was sure she’d also heard the distinct sound of jabberjays’ echoes around the gardens. Felicia couldn’t help but worry once again about having spoken out of turn after the Games.

She was settling into bed one night, later than usual, about to read for a while, when her husband walked into the room, coat still on, snowflakes only just melting into the fur. She hadn’t seen him in three days. It wasn’t usual of him to disappear like that.

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, and got out of bed as quickly as her wrists allowed her, to help him get out of his heavy clothes. She took his coat and scarf, and left them on the sofa right outside the crystal doors to their bedroom.

“Where were you?” She asked, out of breath, as she wrapped her hands around her chest. The manor wasn’t cold, but a chill had somehow still managed to run through her spine. He reached down towards her, and kissed her with a closed mouth. “You should go back to bed, dearest, it’s already late.” He gently pushed her aside, and strided towards the bed.

“But where were you, really?” She repeated herself, following his motion.

“District 12.” He uttered, pulling the bedding over. And by the way he said those words, Felicia knew she wasn’t allowed to ask any questions. She just nodded, pursing her lips, and let him embrace her, as she closed her eyes.

***********

Felicia wished for but one thing: to go to bed. Her feet hurt, her face felt too tight, and she was bored out of her mind. Yet, as the First Lady, her role at such events had but one purpose: to introduce people, excuse the President’s absence, and, most importantly, look radiant. At least she had managed the latter, or rather, her stylists had.

On that morning, a whole assembly of them had barged into her room to prepare her for the evening party. They had bathed her, coloured her hair, applied makeup to her face, and dressed her. Her stylist had chosen a metallic purple dress with an asymmetrical cut, paired with a golden undergown that stood out on her chest and highlighted her legs. Matching heels and shimmering makeup completed the look. Her hair was styled in a loose chignon adorned with golden accessories Tigris had once given her as a present. She knew her picture would be plastered all over the newspapers as the best–dressed of the evening.

“Ms. Cardew, may I have a dance with you?” Felicia heard a man’s voice behind her, as she sipped on what must’ve been her fifth glass of wine that night, but she paid no mind to it, it wasn’t directed to her, or at least she thought so. The music was too loud and the lights were too bright, her head had started to hurt and it was difficult to discern scenes on her whereabouts.

“Ms. Cardew?” She heard again, and seconds later she felt someone put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Felicia had but turned around that Lan was already on her side, discreetly putting himself between her and the stranger. She studied the man for a moment, and then exchanged subtle glances with the bodyguard. Lan left at once, and Felicia extended a hand towards the man in front of her.

Plutarch Heavensbee. A plump, middle–aged man, and frighteningly clever, maybe too much for his own sake.

“Ms. Cardew,” he repeated himself, leaving a polite kiss on her hand,“you look the epitome of grace in this sea of extravagance. I apologise for frightening you.”

“Mr. Heavensbee,” she smiled, “it’s me who should apologise; I didn’t realise you were speaking to me, I’m afraid it’s been years since I was last called by my maiden name.” Thirty eight years, to be precise.

He hummed in response. “Would you care to join me for a dance?” She really didn’t want to. The wine had started to make her feel light–headed, and her ankles were sore.

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Heavensbee.” She smiled, allowing him to take her a few steps down into the dancing floor. People moved around, making space for them, and the cameras that followed.

Felicia rested one hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her back, and they started to glide across the room, matching their steps with the music.

“I thought that you could do with some invigorating conversation.” He leaned towards her, to avoid the cameras and people around from hearing their conversation.

“Well you know what a rare thing that can be here in the Capitol.” She replied in a murmur, with a cheeky smile directed towards the cameras. “I hear you’re to be our new Gamemaker.”

“Ah, news travel fast in the Capitol,” he smirked, “yes, I’ve been appointed as the new Head Gamemaker.”

“A very prestigious position,” she smiled, as he made her twirl, “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

Plutarch nodded with a meekly gesture, turning the corners of his lips downwards. “Thank you, Felicia. It's a role that demands creativity and innovation, wouldn't you say?” He added, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed,” she agreed, as she relished in the small amount of bravery the alcohol had given her, and added “although I must admit, the… nature of such creativity often leaves me conflicted.”

The man simply stared at her, with an implacable expression on his face, making it difficult for Felicia to assert how he felt about her statement.

“The Games are a spectacle, Felicia, but the true spectacle often lies in the shadows. Oh? It's all a matter of perspective, really.” He stated, with an esoteric look on his face. She was about to comment on it, but he interrupted her. “I’ve recently met your two oldest children.”

“You have?” Felicia asked, slightly taken aback. “And why is that?”

“I had to spend a couple of days at the hospital a handful of weeks ago, nothing too serious luckily. Very bright children indeed. I can see they’ve inherited your intelligence—

“Oh Mr. Heavensbee,” Felicia chuckled, feigning modesty ,“you’re being too—

“And defiance.” He cut her off, voice barely audible, as he had leaned in towards her so much, his mouth brushed her cheek.

Felicia went still. “What…?” She began to ask, but they were interrupted.

“Plutarch Heavesbee!” The voice of a woman resounded in her ears, even above the music. She was accompanied by two other people. Felicia, who was still hesitating on how to feel about Plutarch’s statement, almost jumped at the sight of them.

“Katniss. Peeta.” The flashy woman clamoured. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker. Successor to Seneca Crane.”

“That’s a tough act to follow.” The young man commented, shaking Plutarch’s hand.

“Peeta!”

Plutarch just laughed, as he seemed to have found the comment amusing rather than somewhat unpleasant. “May I introduce you to Felicia Snow?” He said, pointing towards her.

“Mrs. Snow,” The woman said, with a modest curtsy, “you look radiant, as always.”

“Thank you, Euphemia, you look very lovely yourself. It’s a pleasure meeting you both.” Felicia added, nervously staring at the two teenagers, who returned a polite smile and shook her hand. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you, we are very happy about it.” Peeta answered, as a grin claimed all of his features. How intriguing. He genuinely seemed happy about it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, with a soft smile, “they show you all the time on the television, you’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Oh,” she giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth, in a flustered fashion, “well, my stylists are very good at their jobs. How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s excessive.” Katniss was quick to answer, her voice steady.

Felicia smiled graciously, acknowledging the tension between herself and Katniss. The dance floor seemed to tighten around them, as they got caught between the profligacy of the Capitol and the stark reality of the Games.

“The Capitol has its own way of celebrating, doesn’t it? But I agree, the extravagance can be a little overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming is an understatement.” The girl answered, bluntly, eyes staring into Felicia’s.

“What Katniss means,” Peeta was quick intervene, “well, it is a bit much, but make it any simpler and you might as well deprive the Capitol of all its fun, right?”

Katniss shot him a quick side–eye, and then forced a smile on her face, turning towards her once again. Felicia offered her a weak smile. She could tell the girl didn’t like her, and Felicia understood that. She privately boasted about not enjoying Games, commended herself on being –What, exactly? Morally superior to the rest?– and yet had never actively acted against them, except for complaining. Nothing but sanctimonious bluff. She was in no way better than the rest; no different than those gaudy, self–absorbed, fake individuals she so very bragged about not tolerating. I am no better than my husband.

Felicia realised that she wouldn’t be able to keep on feigning a smile in her face for that much longer, and studied the room around her. There were many other people lingering around them, waiting to talk to the victors, staring with jealousy at her. She briskly made her excuses, claiming she was expected to make some introductions, and left.

She tried walking in a straight line through the path she knew would eventually lead to her room, but such an action was proving difficult with the amounts of alcohol she had in her blood. Her movements were marked by an unsteady sway, and more than once, she stumbled over her own feet, struggling to maintain her balance.

Lan found her before she could make a spectacle of herself, discreetly grabbing her by the waist, and quickly guided her away from the party. He didn’t comment on her uncharacteristic drunkenness, and they settled instead for a calm stroll, thankful that the ear–splitting noises from the party were nothing but a muffled sound at that point.

Minutes into their walk she looked up towards him, and sullenly leaned into him. “They hate me you know,” she whispered, lips turning into a pout and eyes glossy, as he led her through the empty hallways of the manor, “Katniss and Peeta.”

But voicing such thoughts didn’t bring her any solace; she didn’t get to complain that her actions, or rather the lack of them, had had consequences. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop from falling into her cheeks.

“They don’t hate you.” Lan comforted her, eyes softening. She looked up towards him, locking her gaze on his. He had such a gentle stare; warm, soft watercolour eyes that reminded her of the sea. She wondered if he ever missed the ocean, if he ever missed his district. District 4. They weren’t strangers to the Games over there either. She wondered how much he’d suffered by her actions, surely he’d been affected by the Games at some point. No one could escape from that, her husband made sure of it.

“Yes they do,” she whimpered, lips quivering, clumsily wiping the tears on her face, “and they have every reason for doing so.”

***********

Winter weaved into spring, and the Capitol once again started buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Games. Games unlike any other, for that year marked the 75th Hunger Games, the most anticipated Quarter Quell. It turned the citizens crazy, which was the ultimate goal Felicia supposed, through the introduction of twists and challenges that made each iteration unforgettable. They served as a reminder of the Capitol’s control and a testament to its capacity for innovation in the pursuit of entertainment.

Felicia started to see Plutarch Heavensbee more often than not around the manor, holding private, clandestine discussions with her husband. The significance of these meetings left Coriolanus with scarce time for her, reducing their exchanges to the necessities, often focused on their children. He no longer slept in their shared bedroom, except when his personal needs dictated otherwise. Oddly enough, she always welcomed him. It felt good to be desired.

She was less than excited when Coriolanus announced she was expected at the presentation of the Quarter Quell, but as always she simply forced an amicable smile into her face and waded through the charade. Standing once again before the entirety of the Capitol, Felicia steeled herself for the announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.

“...and now on this,” her husband spoke to the microphone, standing in the atrium above the Avenue of the Tributes, “the 75th Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol.”

A most imperceptible frown appeared in Felicia’s forehead, puzzled by such remark. He wouldn’t.

“On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.” He declared, as his lips turned into a very subtle smile. Gasps born from indignation erupted from the crowds, and for the first time in all her years as the First Lady, Felicia's façade crumbled. Her eyes widened, and she brusquely turned her head towards the President. Though her lack of composure lasted but a moment, she knew he would have noticed. “Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or situation…” She could hear Coriolanus still talking, but it felt as if he were speaking from a distant, muffled place.

She fled to her bedroom as promptly as she was allowed, hunted by the screams of Cato under the mutts.

***********

“This is your doing, and the consequences shall rest upon your shoulders.”

No, she kept on shaking her head, as tears fell on her cheeks, none of this would've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

***********

I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it

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bbluesrreality · 3 months ago

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It’s so fun and cool that I’m an exhibitionist that gets to show myself off and be praised for being hot for a living. Genuinely, I am so proud of myself and it makes me feel good about my body and I’m so so so glad I’m in a position where I feel safe enough to do it and have a good support network around me to keep me from some of the more worrying and potential highly consequential vulnerabilities of certain areas of the industry I’m in and actually have fun with my work and feel creatively fulfilled and not have to take up every sometimes shitty offer that comes my way and get followed back and flirted with by some of my biggest crushes ever (and maybe actually DM and meet them in the future…) and “meeting” new hot people every day and all the love and support and now that my terrible horrible no good very bad year roommate is gone I actually feel fully comfortable doing my sex work job where I live!!! Very exciting.

My life is crazy. I can’t believe this is literally me using my degree. I can’t believe my pussy makes me rent plus some. I wish it made me more but that’s just a work ethic and consistency thing at this point. School cost me so much, it’s going to take a long time to be gainfully employed but this is a start and it’s a fun start and I present well, even lightly conservative people tend to like me upon introduction even with the blue hair if I play my cards right, so I don’t think this job will actually close off future employment opportunities I’m likely to seek. It may be where I live and the crowds I frequent but I’ve never gotten a bad reaction to saying “Oh, I’m uh, I’m a camboy.” When people ask “What do you do for work?” And Gen X loves to hear things like “SEO optimization” and “Intrinsically motivated” in interviews. I don’t even need to keep it totally off my resume tbh. And I really have learned a lot of a skills and a lot about learning and a lot about people and a lot about motivation and a lot about myself and a lot about what I want in this line of work.

And a lot about the various angles of my body and divets and bulges in my muscles and niche kinks on the internet and new ways trans people manage to be beautiful perverts and sensations in my holes and compliments that make me blush.

I hope to live a long and happy transsexual life with many phases, many looks, many skills, many friends, many lovers, many tragedies, many meals and tattoos and sex tapes and sexual favors and platonic favors. If, god forbid, something were to happen to me, I want it to be out there that I don’t want my porn deleted. (As of now)

Everything is political. My body is political. Trans bodies are beautiful and I love them and I want them to be seen and demystified in all forms and I know I am only one form, a relatively normative form at that, but making what a naked trans body looks like accessible to the adult public feels politically important to me. I sometimes bridge a gap via “genderfluid” expression codeswitching in my work to help show somebody that they can be attracted to somebody who is feminine in one second, and masculine in the next. It is my attentive study of a vast amount of queer media (read: gay shit) that allows me to do this improv crowd work, lol, on my streams, and my media production experience that allows me to bring it to life with some quality in my horny short films as a one-man production team. I am not a doctor but my body and my trans joy is in part the result of advanced medical research, that was only fought for and made available to my generation recently, and is in danger of belong revoked for those who have it again now in my country after the last election. The nazi’s first book burning was medical literature on transsexual healthcare. The visibility of my little cock is incredibly important to me. His right to reach the eyes of every one who wants to feast upon him. For this trans guy to continue to have the right to be who he is and do as he pleases with his body happily and with safety. My body is political and I want its legacy to live on forever and inspire the transsexuals and transgender people of the future. The internet is forever right? Make it forever. Share me forever. Look at me forever. Love me forever.

I feel currently, and yearn to continue to feel, a huge amount of joy in sharing the things I find beautiful about myself and hearing them affirmed by strangers who often become vulnerable themselves to me in return- sometimes not, but sometimes there profile has their name in it, their kinks, their post or reply or like history, all of the people they follow and maybe links to accounts on other sites. Sometimes they feel so compelled to feed as close to me through the internet as they possibly can and send me images of their genitalia. Some of these pictures are poorly shot.

This is a huge amount of information and trust that thousands of people lend to me on the daily and I take that seriously. I try to be straightforward about how I’d like to approach the worker/client relationship and not mislead anybody outright about my role in the interaction, but I also have a lot of fun making use of my generally warm and friendly and open-minded personality and allow people to ask sometimes invasive or insensitive questions about, usually trans healthcare somehow but always a slightly different question somehow with patience, understanding that I’ve been used to this language for my entire adolescent and adult life and that I have selected into a position where I am “meeting” people, frequently, for whom I am the first trans person they have interacted with. For my brothers and sisters and more I owe them the grace of Madonnaesque patience. The amount of times I’ve heard some variant of “I just wanted to let you know I’m straight and I’m into you…. What do you think of that?” Like… what do you expect me to think of that????

But if one man finds himself, if one questioning person looks at me and feels not only the type of attracted that says “Oh I want to fuck him” but also the attraction that says “Oh… I want to BE him” I will have done my job. And supportive, loving, adoring, encouraging comments outnumber the offensive or ill-mannered ones by soooo much. I know it’s really hard for a lot of people, especially millennial content creators I’ve seen who have experienced hate trains and hate waves, (I haven’t really because I try not to say very much controversial stuff on twitter, at the expense of not really feeling like I weigh in at all on some issues that are really important to me, that I may be able to erm, influence my audience about I guess) to filter out negative comments but aside from when I’m live on CB, I haven’t really run into that problem too much.

I read it, I feel it, I can usually let it go. I feel well equipped to manage a number of questions about surgery, language and semantics, identify and trans manners and respect, chasers and how to try to date trans people ethically, accepting shifts in sexuality and not externalizing fear and pain about that onto trans people or invalidating them due to it, my favorite. Genuinely, I’m experienced with this one and turning people gay is my KINK that’s my SHIT I LOVE that it gets me HORNY have a whole life changing realization for me. Yeah I did that. You’ll never forget me now. You’ll learn so much more about yourself and the word now. That’s so exciting. I’ve liberated you. And I will liberate more. Insanity!!!! That’s so powerful!!!! I love it!!! I love my job!!!!!

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staytinyville · 1 year ago

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OUTLAW (47)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none

A/N NOT BETA READ. We have only two more chapters left of this arc! After that I might be taking a break for a bit. Not only to focus on some original novels I have planned but to also have a few chapters ready for you all to read. Cause this having to write chapters the day of updating--hate it lol.

It was a quick affair for when someone had come in to take away Hendricks. He struggled for a moment but after Wooyoung got annoyed with the man’s shouting and fighting, he was quick to shove a rag into the man’s mouth. Seeing as he was cuffed, Hendricks was only able to huff and puff into the fabric.

When you turned back around to face Klein you watched as he was looking over the papers once more. He had a somber look on his face, one of regret as he sighed at each word that seemed to process into his head.

“I'd like to thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Klein said, not meeting any of your eyes.

“You don't seem like it.” Hongjoong raised his brows, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the man.

“You're still criminals in the eyes of the public.” Klein finally looked up, sighing to himself as his eyes skimmed over all nine of you.

“We understand.” You spoke up. “You're a respectable man who has a city to protect.”

You watched as Klein suddenly thought about the entire town, going back to clenching his jaw as he began to think lowly of himself. It was a tough job to take on, especially for a town that was the second most populated. You were never going to be able to make everyone happy, but you were able to make the world a better place. At least in your own image.

Your family had always supported Klein–a vast majority of the town did–so he must have felt a heavy pressure on his shoulders knowing that he was close to putting all of them in danger. There aren't many people you are able to trust when it comes to positions in office, especially not with times growing more and more. People were getting greedy as things began to change, which led to problems. But that shouldn’t stop the few who were trying to keep things at peace from doing what they must.

While Klein had the right intentions–wanting to see Cromer grow into a modern city–he didn’t realize he would fall into a pit of snakes. Human era was inevitable. You were just glad to have stopped everything before it got too far.

“Will you leave soon?” Klein asked.

“We have a mission to finish.” Yunho explained. “This was only a side quest.” He chuckled.

Klein huffed a little laugh, pressing his lips together. “This drug.” He asked, tapping on the papers and envelopes. “What happens if it gets out?”

“The world falls.” Seonghwa answered. “It becomes baron of the joys we see everyday.”

“We've seen what it could do.” Jongho called from the back of the group. “It's not something this world should suffer from.”

“Why hasn't Aurora done anything then?” Klein shook his head, not understanding the whole thing.

“They don't have evidence to prove corruption yet.” Hongjoong told the mayor. “That's what we've been trying to do for the past couple of years.”

The man took a moment to gather his thoughts before moving to grab the things from his desk. “Here.” Klein began to gather all the papers between Quaid and Hendricks, handing them over to you. “Take these then.” He told you.

“What about Quaid?” Mingi asked.

“I've already sent people after him.” Klein answered the boy. “We'll take care of him here in Cromer seeing as it's my jurisdiction.” He turned to look at you, giving you a thankful bow of his head. “Should anything else come to light though, I'll be sure to send word to you.”

“Thank you, Mayor Klein.” You smiled in thanks.

You watched as he suddenly clapped his hands, rubbing them together. He gave you all a raise of his brow, pursing his lips. “You've all committed crimes that should be punishable but it seems to me you're all hard to catch.”

All of you suddenly looked at him oddly, frowning a bit at his words. You were a bit worried that Klein would somehow punish the boys for all they had done, but as you registered the rest of his sentence you concluded that wasn’t going to be the case.

“You're letting us go?” You said, being the first to realize what it was he meant.

“If what you say is true about this drug, then it seems we have a common enemy.” Klein nodded to himself. “I have a city full of people to keep safe. It's what I signed up for as mayor of Cromer.” He took a breath, coming to a stand. “I'll tell the city it wasn't you who stole the money.”

“Tell them you had money left over.” Hongjoong suggested. “You'll be seen as the hero again.”

“As much as one would love to take credit for that, I could not.” Klein shook his head. “I was going to send that money somewhere terrible. I could never live with myself had you not taken it.”

Your shoulders dropped at the man’s convention. He was right in thinking a majority of people would have loved to take the glory and credit for saving the town, but Klein wasn’t a majority of people. He was someone selfless who took care of others first. It was something each of the boys were quick to realize after speaking with him more.

At least by what you could tell from the looks on their faces.

“What will you say then?” Wooyoung asked.

“The truth.” Klein spoke up, smiling as he thought it over. “ATEEZ were the ones who took the money.” He smiled, watching as the boys all gave him skeptical looks.

“They have never seen your faces.” The mayor added. “I don’t believe they will suspect 8 handsome, young men who work for one of Cromer’s hotels. Unless you have warranted for people to think that.” Klein joked.

The boys all looked at each other for a moment, humming in thought as they pondered on what they had all done so far in your town. “They haven’t.” You answered for them, sending them looks that called for them to behave.

You turned back to Klein, bowing your head and giving him a smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Klein nodded his head, giving you a kind smile as well.

Just as the boys all turned one by one to leave the office, you suddenly gasped, stopping to turn back around. “One more thing!” You called back.

“Yes?” Klein answered.

“My father.” You began. “He's kind of in jail at the moment.”

Klein laughed, nodding in understandment. “I'll have him released, don't worry.”

“Thank you, Mayor.” You bowed one more time, turning to Hongjoong who waited closer to you.

“Be careful on your mission.” Klein called out before you all left the door. “It doesn't seem easy.” He added.

You watched as the boys gave each other knowing looks again, Hongjoong sighing as he bowed his head. “It never is.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

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sunshinesickies · 8 months ago

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Warrior Nun Ava x Beatrice Sickfic

Could We Be More?

(Set during their time in the Alps aka when they’re both actually happy)

“Uh…boss?” A deep voice comes from behind Beatrice. Setting down her pencil, she looks up at him from where she sits, prompting him to continue with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

“Ava has a shift today, right?” Hans questions and Bea feels her heart skip a beat at the mere mention of Ava’s name, though her expression remains neutral. No such signs of her sudden emotions. “Yes…” She glances at her watch, “her shift started 30 minutes ago.” She informs, looking back to the Swiss bartender, her heart rate beginning to rise.

His hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “That’s the thing, well, I know you don’t like to reprimand her when she’s late but um, well, she’s still not here.” He ends with a nod, saying what he needed and swiftly turning on his heels, heading back down to the bar, leaving Beatrice’s heart pounding. Ava was never this late. She’d been so caught up in counting inventory that she hadn’t noticed the younger woman hasn’t shown up yet. How could she possibly lose track of her? It was her job to keep the Warrior Nun safe.

W-what if…no. No what ifs. Not until necessary, Bea thinks. Taking out her phone, she calls Ava, once, twice…three times, going to voicemail each time. Okay, maybe now she can worry. Immediately she shoves her things into her bag and rushes downstairs.

“Hans, you good by yourself today? I’ll double your pay and you can have all the tips from tonight.” Beatrice offers, having no doubt he can handle the bar alone, but feeling bad leaving him to do everything.

He simply nods. “Sure. Thanks boss. Did you contact Ava? Is she alright?” He anxiously asks about his friend. The young woman always seems to bring a sense of light and joy wherever she goes and her absence so far is definitely starting to be noticed by the bar’s regulars.

Beatrice lets out a sigh. “Thanks, Hans. You’re the best. And no, I’m going to look for her now.” With that, Bea rushes outside and runs practically the whole way back to the small, old apartment she’s been sharing with Ava. She actually does run the whole way up the three floors of stairs to get to their door. Stopping a moment to catch her breath, Bea then quickly enters, her bag being thrown on the kitchen table as her wide eyes scan the small apartment.

There’s no evidence that Ava’s still there. Nothing misplaced, no dishes in the sink. It was easy to see that she wasn’t in the adjoining living room or dining area. That leaves the bedroom. Bea is across the room in seconds, pausing outside Ava’s closed door and giving a gentle knock.She lets herself in when there’s no response. Squinting her eyes in the sudden darkness of the room, her eyes quickly adjust and easily make out an Ava-sized lump in the bed.

Beatrice’s whole body relaxes as she lets out the breath she’d been holding. The sight of seeing the sleeping Halo Barer, safe and sound brought her emotions back to normal. Swiftly and silently, she crosses the room and Ava’s face domes into view as she stands by the side of the bed. The younger woman is still asleep, which Bea finds odd. She knows Ava loves to sleep in occasionally but so far, during their life here in the Alps, she hasn’t missed work once.

Though, Bea thinks, she did seem abnormally tired last night. She’d skipped dinner and immediately gone to bed the second they’d gotten home, something Bea should have caught on to let her know something was off. Bea knows Ava’s been pushing herself during training and working extra hard at the bar, but the dirty-blonde always seems to have an unlimited supply of energy, always enjoying it all.

Bea watches the gentle rise and fall of Ava’s breath, looking so peaceful as she sleeps. All relaxed and adorable, curled up cozily in the blanket. Beatrice has to stop herself from reaching out to touch Ava’s face. She longs to graze her fingertips along the skin which she knows will be soft as silk.

Turning around, Bea has to tear her eyes away from Ava in order to keep control. But as she starts to walk away, leaving her to her obviously much needed rest, a small sounds stops Bea in her tracks. She turns back to see Ava’s eyes scrunch tighter, the rhythm of her breaths changing as her face twists into a distressed frown and her brows furrow slightly. The older woman immediately knows what’s going on and her suspicions are confirmed a moment later when Ava lets out a few more whimpers and starts tossing around, twisting herself deeper into the blankets as she continues to sleep.

She is having a nightmare. Bea knows them all too well. Many a night she would either wake up to a still dreaming Ava who thrashed around or a shaking Ava who had been startled awake by her night terrors. Each and every time, Beatrice is there to comfort her and it always works. Bea has learned that if she holds the Halo Barer tight and whispers soft reassurances in her ear, Ava always calms down in moments and is usually back to sleep not long after.

Reaching out a hand to gently cup her face, Bea lets her fingers graze along her cheek before ending up tangling them in the other girl’s soft, sandy brown hair. Her fingers gently scratch against her scalp in a soothing way that Ava must recognizes even in her sleep because she stops moving, quiets down and is breathing normally not even a minute later.

However, as Ava starts to relax, Beatrice’s worry only increases. The second she had touched her hand to Ava’s cheek, she’d noticed a strong heat radiating off her skin and when she felt her hair, it was slightly damp from sweat. Now Bea also notices the small beads of sweat that drip from Ava’s temples and the harsh pink blush that paints her cheeks behind her paler than normal skin.

Moving her hand to her forehead, Bea confirms that Ava is sporting a rather large fever. Everything clicks into place now and Bea sighs. She’s sick. “What am I going to do with you, Ava?” Bea speaks barely above a whisper as she gently slides her hand back down to Ava’s cheek, her fingertips as delicate as a butterfly’s touch.

It’s a useless question. Bea knows exactly what she’s going to do, she’s good at this sort of stuff. She’s going to take care of Ava to the best of her abilities. With yet another sigh, a thought bubbles in her mind. She should have known this was a possibility. While The Order doesn’t know everything about the Halo, they know it grants the barer extraordinary abilities, the ability to heal and come back from the dead. But since whatever bug Ava has isn’t life threatening, the Halo must not be doing much to ward off the sickness.

Silently, Bea carefully takes her finger from Ava’s face and walks to the door, but Ava, who must be sensing the lack of her presence, makes Bea stop in her tacks for the second time when she hears a small groan from behind her. “bea?” Ava’s voice is a raspy whisper that makes her throat catch, sending her into a small coughing fit. In the blink of an eye, Bea is by her side, her hand rubbing the girl’s back as the fit forces her into a sitting position.

“Shhh, you’re okay, breathe for me, Ava.” Beatrice takes slow, deep breaths, gently urging Ava to follow suit and soon the fit fades away. Bea holds Ava tight as she slumps against her strong body. Ava tries to murmuring something but with her dry throat and strong fever, it comes out as a raspy mix of slurred words that Bea can’t make out.

“What was that, darling?” Bea finds herself saying before she can stop herself from using the pet name, which fall from her lips so naturally, as if she’d been calling her that for years and not for the first time ever. Ava doesn’t seem to notice or react in anyway and Bea wonders if the feverish girl even hear her at all, but then Ava shifts slightly against her chest, her lips parting. “Can I have some water, please?” She whispers in a strained rasp that makes Bea wince ever so slightly at how painful it sounds. “Of course.” She speaks softly back, making quick work of untangling herself from Ava’s heavy limps and moving her so that she’s lying gently back against the pillows.

“I’ll be just a moment.” She promises, her fingers brushing a small, damp strand of hair from Ava’s face before walking to the apartment’s adjoining kitchen. Bea glances at Ava and sees her watching her, though her eyes flutter, fighting to stay open. Bea makes sure to stay in her view as she gathers a glass of water, some medicine and a cool damp cloth.

Ava watches Bea, never taking her eyes off her though it was getting harder and harder to keep them open. She’s not sure what’s going on or why she feels like this. Like she’d gotten super drunk then hit by a bus and punched into a wall. Ava tries to sit up a little straighter as Bea walks back over. She can see the worry on the older girl’s face. Ava hates that look. She hates to worry people. Hates being a burden. So she flails against the pillows for a moment, trying to get her clumsy limbs to cooperate until she’s sitting up a little more than before. Her chest feels heavy as she breathes and she’s surprised at how little energy she has after such a small movement.

As Bea approaches the small twin bed, she places a small tray on the side table, carefully holding a cup of water out to Ava. Ava mentally wills her arms to work as she reaches for the glass but Bea shakes her head, gently lowering Ava’s hands back down to her lap before bringing the glass to her dry lips. Ava takes a few slow sips, the cool water momentarily dulling the dry ache in her throat. She closes her eyes as she takes a few more and for a moment she thinks she should feel like she’s back at St. Michael’s, being bitterly taken care of by the old nuns, but she doesn’t. She wonders why the familiar action isn’t stirring up her trauma, until she opens her eyes again and meets the soft, caring gaze of Beatrice.

Beatrice. That’s the difference. Ava has never felt uncomfortable in her best friend’s presence nor has she ever felt like a burden to the quiet girl who seems to be a natural at taking are of her in a numerous amount of ways.

Ava pouts when Bea lifts the glass away from her lips and if she’d been more aware, she might have noticed the small flicker of a smile appearing and disappearing in the corner of Bea’s lips. “You have to take it slow, okay, Ava?” She sees Bea’s lips move but doesn’t quite register her words so she just nods slightly, willing to trust anything and everything that Bea has to offer. She really hasn’t known Beatrice all that long, but she’s the best friend Ava has ever had and she knows without a doubt that she would follow Bea to the end of the Earth if she’d ask her to. Ava feels her eyelids grown heavier, each passing second proving harder and harder to keep them open.

“No no, Ava wait.” She faintly registers someone’s soft voice say her name and she forces her eyes open to see a blurry Bea in front of her. Ava offers a small and her head droops slightly but she feels gentle fingers tilt it back up. “Just a moment, Ava. Then I promise you can sleep, okay?” Bea’s accented voice cuts through her foggy brain. She nods weakly, blinking fast to try and un-blurr her vision.

“Swallow this please.” Bea speaks and Ava opens her mouth, feeling Bea place a small pill on her tongue and for a second, panic swells inside her, her eyes widening, but her friend is quick to calm her. “It’s alright, Ava. I promise it’s only going to help you feel better, to help with that fever of yours.” Beatrice hums sincerely with a nod then holds the water back t Ava’s lips. “Good girl.” Bea praises when she drinks and swallows, coughing slightly as the pill feels like a rick in her tight throat. “Just rest now, Ava. Your body needs sleep.” Ava nods, her eyes already closing as she shifts to lay back down.

“Wait, Bea?” Ava mumbles, not sure what the other woman’s plan was, but hoping it doesn’t involve leaving. “Yes, Ava?” She sighs in relief when she hears Bea’s soft answer. “Wi-will you stay with me?” She pleads and immediately feels the bed dip as Bea sits down near her feet.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Ava. I promise.” Bea’s words are enough for Ava to finally relax completely and she no sooner feels something soft and cool being set gently to her forehead. It feels so good against her hot skin. But as much as her body yearns for sleep, there’s something missing, something off, keeping her awake.

After a few minutes, Beatrice can tell she hasn’t fallen asleep yet and for a moment, she isn’t sure what to do before her desire gets the best of her and she place’s her hand gently to Ava’s flushed cheek, her thumb once more grazing along her fevered skin. “Is there anything else you need?” She hums quietly as to not startle the sleepy woman. Ava is silent for a minute and Bea almost thinks she’s fallen asleep after all but then she speaks, her voice tired, slurred and maybe even a little shy.

“Will you hold me?” Ava whispers and Bea’s breath hitches slightly at her request, her heart beating a bit faster as Ava’s hand reaches out to find her own. “Please?” She adds and Be mentally kicks herself for taking too long to answer and making Ava think she wouldn’t. Of course she would. She would do anything for the woman laying in front of her. Bea smiles at Ava who looks up at her with such pleading that it breaks her heart. She nods. “Of course, Ava.” She immediately moves to get into bed next to the now contented Halo Barer. Ava’s face visibly lights up when Bea does so.

The nun pulls the blanket around them, tucking it cozily around Ava as the exhausted woman lets out a happy sigh and leans into the warmth of her friend’s comforting arms. Her head rests atop her chest and she closes her eyes. Bea’s impossibly delicate fingers start to soothingly massage her head and as awful as Ava feels, she decides right here and now that there’s no where else she’d rather be than with Bea and her kind, gentle, loving touch that she’d been void of her while life brings her an immeasurable amount of peace.

As she drifts off to sleep, a faint thought settles it’s way into her head, whether it was in a dream or not she didn’t know, but she wonders if this could possibly be more, if they could ever be more and with that, she feels Bea softly kiss her hair before sleep finally welcomes her body home.

#sunshinesickies #fluff #sickfic #warrior nun #ava silva #avatrice #ava x beatrice

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hhighkey · 8 months ago

Text

Decode // Chapter Five, Close Quarters

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: i got noooo idea if demons exist in one piece and didn’t appear so off some searches so gonna chalk it up to powers from a devil fruit. also think I really like this chapter??

Masterlist

Ocean waves lulled onto the beach as the sun reached its peak, whilst two ships tied and anchored at a makeshift dock. Lounging near the entrance of the sea cave was a company of pirates, ones that belonged to the Red Force. On proud display was that of Luffy’s wanted poster, with alcohol passed around.

Mihawk eyed his red-haired ‘friend’ warily, finding himself without the want to finish off whatever ale was tossed to him.

The joy- pride- whatever it was he didn’t quite care, was evident on the crew. Though he’d imagined if the Luffy he met was anything like that as a child, sure the boy would have made a lasting impression. But his mind was elsewhere.

It was coming up to a month since he’d first lay eyes on the woman his heart now belonged to. Perhaps distance truly did make the heart fonder in this case. His memory raced to remind himself of every inch he’d taken in, from her delicate fingers, to supple skin and breathtaking beauty. He wanted to own every part of her, to know every intimate detail of her past, and to understand the inner workings of her mind. Anything to do with her up to the air she breathed he wanted part in.

It was a sickening line of thought, truly it twisted and burned his chest inside that he’d thought he’d implode at times. But Sabine pulled him into her orbit, dug her innocent little claws in, and he’d be a fool to resist.

His mind constantly drifted to her from time sailing on the sea, amidst a job, and even before he fell asleep. He wondered what she was up to and where, if she were safe, if she thought about him. He let himself obsessively obsess over someone he met twice, truly knew nothing about and now had to wait for them to make a life changing decision in months time. Setting himself up for failure surely, but high risk brings high reward, he understood that well enough.

"You usually got your panties in a bunch Hawkeyes- but this is extra.” Shanks stared at Mihawk knowingly as he knocked back his drink.

"What are you talking about?” Mihawk quipped back, tone biting with a hint of exasperation.

"Haven't touched your drink."

Mihawk glanced down at the open bottle, liquid slowly warming in his grasp from nursing it, "Please elaborate on your nonsensical ramblings."

Shanks grinned as he took a swig of mead, "I know that face. Only one thing causes men of our stature to look so grim."

"Don't compare us-"

"A girl."

"Fucks sake." Mihawk decided he was done, he’d take no further questions from the red haired imbecile of a pirate. He sat his drink down in the sand uncaring as it tipped, spilling out the amber liquid. He only got a few feet away.

"Where's your ring?" Shanks smirked, only having to ask one simple question and Mihawk would know he was beat, knowing how to prod all the right areas to tick Mihawk off.

Mihawk stopped and turned with a fire in his eyes, “Don’t pry in places you have no business.”

“Oh come on,” He laughed drunkenly, “You don’t just give that out!”

It did not matter- the intricacies of what the ring symbolized to Mihawk. Or it shouldn’t have mattered to Shanks who found far too much enjoyment out of his discomfort.

“Don’t use that night, what- a decade ago when I drunkenly told you about what it meant- against me.”

“Yeah yeah.” Shanks waved a hand dismissively, his smirk growing larger by the second. A few of his crew were beginning to listen in, “Come on, a man as distrusting as you wouldn’t give something so precious to a stranger! Or maybe… you did?”

“Like you know anything about it.”

Not needing to push anymore, the red haired man shrugged, “Tell me about her.”

“No.”

“I’ll never bother you again!”

“Liar.”

“Just one thing then you can go. She a pirate? Marine? A sweet girl you saved from an evil pirate?”

Mihawk sighed, ran a handle along the fabric of his jacket then stared right into the depths of Shanks’s soul.

“She’s a nun.”

The beach went utterly silent. It sounded like even the entirety of the ocean and its inhabitants, and even the air went silent too. Then a booming chorus of loud shouts and laughter drowned the silence out.

“She’s traveling with Luffy.”

At the mention of Luffy the crew died down again, ears strained to listen.

“What’s he doing with a nun?” Yasopp called over.

Mihawk would indulge him one more time and wanted to set a record straight before Shanks could say anything about him being a cradle robber, “She’s much older than him by the way, but she’s on sabbatical and he wants to show her the damned world before she goes back. With that strange boy she’s sure to get a show.”

Shanks laughed, “Sounds about Luffy. Pfft well, guess ole’ Mihawk here is gonna have to become a priest! Or celibate the rest of his life, good luck man, you’ll be in my prayers.” And he raised his beer up emphasizing the last word, toasting to Mihawk's ‘doom.’

It was the sudden noise of the little transponder snail he kept safely tucked away that finally gave Mihawk a reason to leave.

Annoyance riddled every bone in his body until the Marine on the other end said a nun wanted to talk to him. It felt like he’d been doused in cold water, fear striking through him at what that could mean. But when he heard her voice, it calmed something inside him. Without a doubt in his mind he’d head to Angelica Island to see her, to aid her in whatever venture she needed him for. It didn’t matter. It could be as simple as needing him to reach an item off a high shelf. Because getting to lay eyes, possibly a hand on her after a month would make it worth it. The two days to get there though would test his patience.

Sabine stilled, suddenly deathly aware of the new presence in her room as she opened the door wishing she hadn’t gone out from the way sweat dripped down her nape. Dread pooled in her stomach like molten lava, her pulse hiked the second she stepped onto the premises. Hairs on the back of her neck stood straight, her instincts screaming at her to turn around. But as her gaze caught the figure lounging beside the window with its sheer curtains blowing about in the wind- a surreal calmness washed over her. Her knees buckled but she caught herself on the door frame as her cheeks burned red.

“Mihawk.”

There he sat in all his glory. He wore a simple cream shirt half unbuttoned, his coat and hat lay haphazardly on the bed. And the giant sword leaned resting against a far wall. The sight of him made her stomach churn, made her chest flitter so painfully she desperately wanted to be closer to him.

“Sabine, dear.”

“You came.” She regained her senses as she shut the door behind her, her back pressed against the wood as she watched him. Watched him in awe as he sat across the room. Awed at the fact he hadn’t lied about his intentions to help her.

“Of course. You called.”

He said those words so casually, but it makes her burn inside. Like it was the most obvious thing on the planet to him, while she’d been stressing. Sabine called, so of course Mihawk came to her as if she were his light in the depths of the darkest ocean calling to him.

Her head spun from the noxious fumes of the jasmine candle she’d left lit since the morning as she slowly inched forward. And how it swirled with the scents coming in from the window- every sense of hers blazing in sharp awareness. Everything zoomed in on Mihawk who straightened in the loveseat, his pupils dilating as he watched her movements and every breath like it’d be the last.

Sabine took a shuddering breath in as she stood an arms length away from him now, her heart lurching as he stood. Towering over her, enormous and all powerful. Consuming her as she rocked on her feet in a trance as it took every ounce of her not to reach out and touch him. The intrusive need to graze her fingers up the front of his shirt, feel the chiseled muscle that lies underneath and his radiating warmth.

Biting her lip, she looked away wishing she could hurl into a ball and hide.

“Hi.” She squeaked out, “I didn’t know you were here. See, I’d gone for a walk, was too anxious waiting around cooped up in here.”

“I would have been earlier, but I ran into some difficulties.”

“Oh! Is everything okay?”

“Yes.”

Unsure what to say she simply nodded, his level tone told her not to push further. Her room felt like a flurry of nerves consumed it raking along her skin, soft whispers scraping at the back of mind as she tried to calm herself. Nervous about how to behave around him. Nervous on what to even say. Nervous about if she looked presentable! All her practiced words she’d recited over and over since the sun went up, were flown right out the open window beside her. Mind filled with mush.

A soft chuckle emanated past his lips as he delicately touched the side of her arm, careful to not scare her, to test the waters.

“Little dove, why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Start from the beginning.”

She nodded appreciating the directness as it gave her something to do, “Y-Yeah, one second.”

A thick notebook laid at her bedside, one she’d scribbled in all night trying to clearly navigate her thoughts. The story was long, possibly confusing, and frankly she didn’t know where to begin when she finally sat down to write. To write the thoughts she kept locked away inside felt like a personal betrayal of some sorts, that telling paper before an actual person was wrong.

“I wasn’t sure how much you needed to know, it was almost therapeutic writing it all down, I don’t know if I’ve told anyone it all before.” She leafed through the pages, embarrassment leaking through. Intimate thoughts, intimate details written that she’d let him see because at this point she was desperate. Or she wanted him to. That if he was claiming to want her, then he needed to know her before following through.

Remembering his words of sweet possession, revering attention made her stomach lurch and flutter. A beast roaring inside her she’d never felt until Mihawk. How it blazed and consumed her thoughts with him, with daydreams and a childish obsession a girl holds when she’s young. Because she didn’t know him!

Shaking her head to force herself out of a heedless spiral, she went and handed him the notebook.

“I’d rather not have to speak any of it.”

Sabine sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling sick and unable to tear her eyes off him as he began reading. The only reason she told Luffy and the crew a few days ago about the gist of her past, was the heat of the moment. Sabine would have needed a whole bottle of wine to even consider talking about the whole story.

To a pirate of his status, power, it probably meant nothing, Mihawk may think she was weak or overdramatic. But this was her life, she knew nothing else than her confined and confusing existence.

Mihawk’s golden eyes read every word she’d written, even the ones she crossed out, with an acute concentration.

‘I was 15 when father made me leave home. I don’t know if it was bad luck, but I believe it was him who brought the pirate to our doorstep. I believe he paid him to take me to the Monastery, then to kill mother. I still remember how the pirate laughed, calling father weak for not taking mother’s place but I think it was all part of his plot. What pirate takes a girl and drops her off at a Monastery? Few months before, father had become a fanatic over religion, believing we’d all been living in sin and needed to be a better family. I think he went crazy. Who knows- I surely don’t, but I wish mother took his place and I was never sent away.

Out of the 8 years I spent at the Monastery, which I could write a whole novel on the things that took place but wouldn’t know where to begin, I only left the isle once. Last year I came to Angelica Island, this one, with a Bishop because the matriarchs believed I needed a break. I found myself in a precarious position three years ago, a deacon had pried his way into my life in an inappropriate manner (I will not further explain as he’d inconsequential now). I’d always forced myself to believe I was doing a service through my work of prayer and confession, all the strict schedules and confining education- all for this wretched island to flush it all away. I genuinely believed there was a demon here causing people to take their lives violently, drawing them to insanity, that it needed to be sent back to hell. I believed it, I mean I saw the lady with the black eyes, I saw all the dark swirls, saw the blood she left, and felt her claw like nails on me. How was it not real? Even the marines had no leads. But the man she supposedly possessed who was showing strange behavior, I had to be the one to finish the exorcism as it killed the Bishop. All the terror stopped. I thought it was done!

I went back to the Monastery and for months I woke in fits of screams and horrible nightmares. I’d feel her choking grasp, couldn’t be in the dark, I was jumpy, changed. I always thought I was a fairly level headed person, liking to follow directions even if I hated it. Thought I could be a role model, a good nun, but over the last 8 years I could never take my permanent vows while most have over the years. So now I find myself here once again after feeling the most free and light since the start of my sabbatical. I don’t want to be here but clearly it drew me back for a reason, out of all the possibilities of islands to stop, why this one? I couldn’t leave with the crew when they planned to after a few days, I had to stay. I went to the archive in the religious sector of the town, met with the cardinal I trust who had helped last year. After meeting Luffy and finding out about devil fruits, these wild magical powers, I felt something gnaw at me. In long forgotten books are articles, journal entries, timelines of correlation in demonic activity and someone who’s eaten a devil fruit. I mean- I couldn’t imagine the matriarch seeing Luffy stretch out and not think he was possessed! And someone who could have those powers to possess or use ghosts, turn into that thing- wouldn’t that be more plausible?

I’m ranting, I know, but it’s making me doubt even more. I feel guilty. I don’t think there’d ever been a demon. Just powers and violent happenings from someone with abilities that we don’t understand. The church is good at fear mongering I’ve noticed and all it takes is someone who has a strong opinion and is loud, people do crazy things out of fear. I think there is an actual person behind all this- Mihawk if you are reading, that is why I called you.’

Mihawk closed the notebook, humming to himself before he looked at Sabine. His eyes provided her with an unspoken understanding or support, she at least liked to think so. While normally able to tell when judgment existed within someone from the different sorts of people she had to spend time with due to the state of her occupation- with Mihawk that was different. She cared what he thought of her, far too much than she wanted to admit for only having been around him twice. Now three times.

“I see. I think there is a plausible possibility of your hunch being correct. Much about devil fruits we don’t understand, or the type of powers they can give or even how they are activated. But you are not talking to a man of faith, I would rather believe in a realistic answer.”

“I’m glad you don’t think this is all foolish.” She straightened, heart thumping.

“I will look into it myself, from a less religious aspect however. A person behind this would be more logical, but I want to see reports from last year and logs from your time.”

“That makes sense, we could get that information from Cardinal Joseph tomorrow, he’s very good in secretarial duties.”

“Have you asked the marines if there are suspicious reports of deaths lately? Or sightings?”

“No…”

“The cardinal you mentioned, has he noticed anything strange within the community?”

“Yes and no.” Sabine flushed, ears red in embarrassment as she shifted, “We’ve been meeting, pouring through books but most aren’t helpful. I have notes further in my notebook. While nothing has happened like a year ago, he says he has felt unnerved. Said he’d been considering writing to me to see if I was doing okay, or felt the same, that maybe we were wrong.”

He was thinking and she was waiting for him to plunge the knife in that she was ridiculous, and a fool to call him for this. It did not come.

“You said you’ve felt light on your sabbatical, freer since you’d joined the church, whether you only meant to imply it innocently. I want you to feel that way once again.”

“So you’ll help?” She asks more excitedly than intended. Her body language changed and he enjoyed watching how her pupils expanded, shoulders relaxed, and a smile pulled at her lips.

“Yes.” Only for her.

A weight released off her, one she hadn’t realized was there until that moment. The look she gave him was genuine, filled with thanks as she took a breath able to suck in air more than the airy gasps she’d been surviving off.

It was late afternoon, almost evening but Sabine could have slept until morning. A small crash in adrenaline, she fell back onto the bed, her legs hanging off where her knees hinged.

“Such a relief you’re here.” She rubbed her eyes as she stared at the ceiling.

The floorboards creaked under his heavy steps, she couldn’t see them but his eyes dominated along her form. He stopped at the sight of a necklace chain that hadn’t been there before. It sat below her garments.

“Sit up,” His smooth voice tickled the back of her mind and she immediately obeyed. She pushed herself up on her forearms and gazed up at him with half lidded eyes.

Closer. His legs just brushed against her knees. She held her breath, the sound of pumping blood decimated within her head as all other noise went silent.

Mihawk had to lean down to reach her neck, where he looped a finger under the chain to pull it out from under her garbs.

“I see you’ve been wearing my ring.”

“Yes.” She blushed furiously, her tongue darting across her lower lip, “It doesn’t fit any of my fingers though.”

“I do not doubt that.” It pleased him greatly to see her not only with it, treasuring it, but wearing it. It stroked the possessive tendencies that suddenly surged through him, the sudden emotions it wracked through his nerves and climbed under his skin, “How often does it get to grace this chain around your neck?”

Sabine stilled, breath caught before she admitted under her breath, “Everyday.”

His lips quirked and an impulsive thought popped into his mind. He quickly said, “I should go,” as he dropped the ring so it fell back to her chest, needing to move. He barely got a few strides away.

“No- Stay in here. Or maybe they could move us to a room with double beds? I can’t be here alone at night anymore, I wake up crying like there’s a presence over me.” Sabine’s bottom lip jutted out, a plea falling from her lips as panic surged through her, “If you’re here I’ll feel safer. I only ask for genuine reasons, nothing nefarious I swear.”

“I know, don’t fret.” He reassured, but mainly reassuring himself that staying in the same room as her was a good idea.

No matter how patient and strict of a man he was in training or in battle- in life, she suddenly changed that. Sabine was honest, that was clear of her character even when he first met her at Baratie. Mother-like in a sense, clearly conscious of others and her surroundings. Precious. Easy to break- something he’d never allow to happen.

“Alright. I’ll go ask for a cot, how about that?” That pleased her greatly that she didn’t come off like a desperate woman doing this to bed him. Though she couldn’t blame anyone for trying, even her own thoughts betrayed her as she’d graze along his pale skin and corded muscle, a chest and abdomen so thick and defined it didn’t matter it was covered by a shirt. And without his long coat on she could see his powerful thighs straining against the material, making her wonder just how much of his life was dedicated to the art of his sword.

“You will take the bed, I will take the cot.” Mihawk added sternly, though she saw through that as nothing more than banter. She smiled, nodding before skipping out the room. He was moments away from telling her not to leave his sight, but he shut his mouth and let her run her little errand.

As nightfall fell over the city on Angelica Island, Sabine methodically locked every window making sure to stuff spare linens so no draft could sneak its way in. A habit she’d had for years. A distrust for people perhaps, or surroundings, or that she’d spent years shivering in her bed as a girl. And the Monastery was nothing if not a wretched old place with a frigid draft that had Sabine always on the lookout for extra blankets.

Mihawk watched her with fond curiosity, teasing words dancing on his tongue that he wouldn’t yet speak. Her movements were frantic, though it was clear she didn’t see the behavior as worrisome. She kept checking the locks and he itched to tell her to sit, to relax. But this moment gave him the perfect chance to learn more about her, to study her and put it to memory.

“You’re not cold are you?” She asked him, huffing from the amount of times she’d paced the room.

“I’m not.” He thought carefully, “It’s late, you should rest.”

She nodded, “Mhmm, yeah. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“I can tell.”

“You see, besides my weeklong job here last year, I hadn’t slept in a room by myself in years. I’ve always had roommates at the Monastery and on the ship I room with Nami. With others in the room I have to force my brain to sleep so as to not bug the other person. Alone, it’s unsettling, I don’t like it.” She said quickly, tripping over her words as she tried to explain.

Mihawk stood from the lounge chair, “You- sit on the bed. You’re making me anxious watching you flit around.”

Sabine shivered under his commanding gaze as he sat on her bed, patting the spot beside him. She pushed her messy hair back behind her ears and as she sat she smoothed down her nightgown, suddenly very aware how thin the material was. Suddenly filled with shame to be wearing such a thing around him as an unmarried woman, self consciousness making her stomach twist tight.

His large fingers comb thoughtfully through her hair, carefully feeling the way each strange felt between his fingers. The softness of her brown locks, a faint smell of soapy lilac wafting from it.

Dutifully he began to part her long hair into three sections, basking in the way her skin would erupt in goosebumps as he ghosted along it as he worked.

Taken aback she quickly asked, “You can braid hair?”

“It’s not difficult. And now you won’t have a bird's nest come morning.”

“Should I be offended by that?” She teased, loving the way his fingers felt as they stroked along her nape and braided the strands.

“No. Now tell me why you obsessively check locks, shove cloth into cracks, then check again and again.”

“Why?” Heart amiss as it pounded in her chest, she felt dumb asking why but her mind was slowly turning to much as his fingers worked. She’d never thought a man would braid her hair, nonetheless a warlord of the sea.

“I want to know everything about you. What makes you tick. Anything or anyone who’s caused you damage whether emotional or physical. What colors do you prefer? Do you prefer sweet or salty food?”

“Will you tell me all the things there is to know about you too?”

“Yes. Anything I ask I would be willing to answer in return. Do you have a hair tie?”

“Nightstand. And you don’t seem very open... In general.”

“I am not.” He leaned to grasp the black band, carefully looping it around the end of the braid leaving about two inches.

“Why did you become a pirate?” She shifted upon his completion, instinctively feeling her head and hair. Facing him now she was as pink as the evening sky while he was an impenetrable wall as he watched her.

“What do you consider a pirate to be? In your own words.”

“I dunno, someone who travels by ship that is against the world government, steals and murders I guess? A pirate seems to be someone who wants the One Piece at this point, Gold Roger really changed everything.”

Mihawk hummed, thinking over her words, “I don’t particularly care for the antics of it all, I especially do not care to terrorize islands of people to rule over like some. I care about my pride of being the world’s greatest swordsman, besting foes as I please, and one day hopefully meet the one who will surpass me. My occupation as a warlord helps keep the marines out of my way, they’re a nuisance at best.”

“You’re a lone wolf.” She tried to tease again but a sudden yawn came over her as sleep began to drag her down.

“I don’t talk about my past or my reasoning for most decisions with anyone, but I wanted to return the favor as you allowed me to read your notebook.”

“I hope it wasn’t too intimate?”

“No, it allowed me insight into you, I hope I’ve done the same. Now have you finished your nighttime routine or is there more to do?”

“Yes, it’s done.” Her chest swelled even as her eyelids grew heavy.

“Then lay down, I will stay up until you fall asleep.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me questions?” Sabine inquired as he helped her get underneath the covers. A tingling sense of safety washed over her from how delicately he treated her. Like a precious treasure the way he tucked her in, hand smoothing the wrinkles of the blanket over her form.

“Not tonight. Sleep, tomorrow we’ll speak with the marines.”

“Alright, fun.”

Her words soon slurred together as she attempted to chat his ear off about unintelligible nonsense he simply hummed responses to. She was nervous, he could practically feel the way her pulse hitched as he got close, or how her pupils would dilate. The extra time between responses as she was overthinking her own words.

He glanced around, only the dim light of the lamp beside him illuminating the room, she’d insisted he leave it on. There were no words to describe Sabine’s beauty in his eyes. In the month since he’d seen her he’d recount her face in his memory, but being able to see each detail, was like seeing her for the first time again. And she was still stealing his heart like she had the moment he eyed her from across the bar.

Mihawk settled onto the cot that night, careful to be silent so as not to wake Sabine. He’d be damned if he were to ruin her first night of peaceful sleep now that she felt safe. Safe. She wanted his presence. She could have called back Luffy and co, but wanted him. The fact of it quenched the fire within him that wanted to claim her as his own, knowing that while he was still very much a stranger, he gave her solitude.

posted: july 18 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 let me know if you wanna be added !

#hhighkey’s decode #hhighkey decode #mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk fanfic #mihawk fanfiction #mihawk x oc #mihawk headcanons #opla #opla fanfic #one piece fanfic #shanks #one piece live action #Mihawk live action

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