#but hey it can be ship art if you want too

[loonysama]

I have to agree with everything above. I'm not saying the fic that made me want to stop writing was just because only 1.75% of hits got kudos, but I'd be lying if I didn't say how much that hurt, especially for imo one of the best fics I've ever written that I was already barely able to write due to such small kudos to hits ratios lately. I get that it might not have been something everyone was into, but damn. It made me feel like shit. I'm so grateful for everyone who has supported me over the last few years - especially those who have created art for my fics and read and left kudos on everything - but I think the sting of having my writing be unliked by so many people has been really hard to get over. It shot my confidence and I've had trouble writing ever since. And over the years, I have known several writers who have stopped writing altogether because of this, and even left the fandom because of it. I do not plan to do either, but to be honest, it has been a struggle not to be able to do something I really love doing because it just made me feel so bad to do it.

I wish so much that readers didn't use kudos as a measure of how much they like something. I wish so much that it meant, "Hey, it's so cool that you worked so hard on this so I could devour more content about my favorite ship without paying for it," rather than, "This was amazing, one of the most amazing things I've ever read, so I'm going to reward you with the coveted heart of approval I only use to let the most special of writers know they're the best because they deserve it more than everyone else." This can create competition amongst writers when there really shouldn't be. And more than anything, I wish I could just turn kudos off altogether, but I can't because every single kudo I get lifts my spirits just a little, and that's a really hard feeling to walk away from, even though I suspect most of them come from "guest" bots.

It is a dark truth, and writers aren't really allowed to talk about this because we are supposed to be so grateful for every single heart, and talking about this makes us come across as entitled. We provide a free service for our readers, and I consider a kudo to be a way to acknowledge that, and it costs readers absolutely nothing! In the US, we leave money in tip jars for practically everything. Kudos are tips you don't have to pay for. And it's not like anyone's keeping track and judging readers for leaving hearts for fics that might not be the pinnacle of greatness in their opinion. That's what bookmarks are for, and they can be made private. However, people do judge fics for not having that many kudos and some will skip over fics if the kudos-to-hits ratio is too low. So instead of rewarding only the very best fics with kudos, not leaving kudos actually hurts writers. Not to mention the very personal cost of putting ourselves out there and making ourselves completely vulnerable for everyone to judge us against our fellow writers. Many writers write about very personal things, and tbh, not getting kudos can feel like it's not just our writing being rejected, but ourselves.

So if anyone wants to accuse writers of feeling entitled for being upset about not getting enough kudos, please consider how entitled readers who don't leave kudos are for reading our free labor and not clicking a freaking button (that costs them absolutely nothing) in acknowledgment of the service we happily provide, and how ungrateful they are for not appreciating what we do. We don't have to post our writing. We could just "write for ourselves," but we don't; we share what we write with our readers because that give and take relationship should be rewarding for both writers and readers. But not getting kudos does more to discourage writers from writing altogether than to encourage them to provide more content. You wouldn't pay for a fancy coffee or overpriced cocktail drink without leaving a dollar in the tip jar, would you?

So at the very least, I wish people would stop making writers feel guilty for feeling this way, and I wish writers wouldn't buy into this way of thinking rather than valuing all of our hard work and countless hours that go into writing fanfic. Our feelings are valid; we're allowed to feel like shit when our hard work and vulnerability go unacknowledged for the mere reason that it was judged against someone else's work and found wanting. Wouldn't most readers feel that way if it was the other way around?

Is leaving kudos on fanfics not common courtesy anymore?

Something I've noticed on AO3 in the last two years is the lack of kudos and comments left on fanfics.

Fanfics have an increasing number of hits, but their kudos and comments remain minimal.

I understand that leaving comments is daunting, but kudos is the easiest thing you can do to show support and appreciation for an author.

Part of me wants to blame BookTok and the commercialized consumption of books.

Readers are more demanding and impatient for content, but they're quick to move on once a book is published. It's a constant demand for 'More, more, more' without appreciating and/or supporting authors. And these readers are now getting into fanfic.

I don't want to complain because it's not productive. But if you're new and getting into fanfic: Support writers.

Support means leaving kudos on AO3, and if you're able, leaving a comment. It's simple courtesy.

[femuirdris]

barbie and ken jail meme but my favorite knight freddy bear and milord :)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sequel to this ramble cause the way james talks bout the reduced cherik scenes throughout the xmen films in this video is making me want to kill people. 'we'll always have paris darling' what if we all blew up.

[3liza]

i mean the truth is that we do not need and should not have all this stupid plastic clutter in or houses. no one should be producing or selling this shit. everyone make your own merchandise and charge a living hourly wage to sell it 🤷 sorry to be so simplistic about this but it's one of the results of the lack of class unity specifically in the means of production-owning creative class, who is not mentioned or dealt with by the core Marxist texts as far as I know (i asked about this earlier on here, did marx ever address in his analysis people like, for example, a professional photographer who owns a camera ans prints his own dagguereotypes? or a portrait painter or idk, independent milliner or seamstress? these people all own the means of production and do not employ anyone, and the answer from better educated people than I was that no, Marx didn't mention them), I'm not well read on this at all, there is just a big void where leftist analysis of what modern economists call "the creative class"

I'm getting off topic. my point is make your own keychains in your kitchen. it's actually not hard. you can even mass produce (on a small scale) little plastic crap if you want, with resin and a UV lamp, or a 3d printer, or a laser cutter and acrylic sheets (or just use balsa wood damn, at least its biodegradable and less tacky).

all this stuff is available to little creators AND there are hundreds of people who already own these machines who will take work for you and produce your designs. you just have to actually find them and know them and email them. that's what I mean about the class unity issue with creatives. we have no large scale union, we have no large scale class consciousness, and we're all sending our orders for little plastic crap to sweatshops instead of emailing a guy with a laser cutter in his garage and saying "hey Keith can I get uhhhhhhhhhhh 50 laser cut keychains of this twerking Diggler design I made, like how much would that cost" and he's like sure here's the work and materials cost and tbh it's always always less than i think it's going to be. you just have to do some basic arithmetic and then order shipping, and I hate order fulfillment with my life but you can actually pay or barter with someone to do that for you too. learn to delegate and then factor that into your unit cost. this is basic shit every commercial creator needs to know. they should teach you this in art school but they dont

don't give me crap about "I can't afford a laser cutter" either because I just told you to email Keith. and all these machines get sold secondhand when a manufacturer or hobbyist needs to upgrade. i got a color laser printer perfect for making zines and wheatpastes and shipping labels from a retired lesbian on capital hill for $75 and it was still full of ink. my friend gave me her 20 year old canon dslr because she just didn't need it and didn't want to bother selling it. it works fine because I spent the time finding the right drivers and shit for my computer. and card readers exist. Craigslist. Facebook marketplace. nextdoor sales section. eBay. everyone always forgets eBay. eBay lets you save searches and will email you when it finds a guy selling his vinyl plotter in your city with local pickup. I'm serious

[anniflamma]

So I’ve received a couple of anonymous messages telling me that they were really disappointed in me for liking Elian's Antinous fanart. Instead of answering them individually, I’m just going to make an angry rant post instead. Most of if probably won't make sense anyway.

This post have talk about SA, and homophobia. Be aware. I don’t ship genuinely Telemachus and Antinous, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t even consider the possibility that ship could even exist. At the end of the day, I don't care about that ship.

And do you want me to explain that I know SA is bad? Or that I’m aware Telemachus/Antinous is a toxic ship? Do you think I’m dumb and don’t know that? You don't have to explain to me either, I know that SA is bad, I have experienced it, you don't have to explain to me, trust me I know.

I like Elian's art because it’s really beautiful. Her work is a huge inspiration and encouragement for me when making animatics. But do I REALLY have to spell out, word for word, that I know Antinous is an antagonist and tries to do bad things? Does it mean every time someone draws Antinous and I like it, I have to explain that I like the drawing because it’s well done, not because I support Antinous’ intent toward Penelope and wants to kill Telemachus?

I mean, I’ve seen tons of thirsty comments like, "I hate how Zeus treats women, but your design is really hot" or "Even if Poseidon SA Demeter, this Poseidon I'd go down on all fours for!"

I have seen some stuff….

I guess I could just imitate something like that????

But I know it’s a joke and I know its a fantasy that someone is expressing. Its not real, its fictional. I know all those thirsty ppl who simp over Poseidon, Zeus, or even Antinous aren’t supporting hatred and violence toward women. And yes, I am expecting that you should already know this too. Because if we gonna assume the worst of ppl… Then everyone who likes Greek myth/Epic the musical are pro SA. "Do you like Crice from Epic the musical? That means that you support her actions, you support SA!" "Oh you like Odysseus?! He killed a baby and all of his female slaves cuz they got SA by the suitors! You support infanticide, slavery and SA!" Do you hear how dumb that sounds? To be honest, I wouldn’t be that surprised if there are some who think like this. I mean, this discussion wouldn’t even be a thing, right.

And if you don’t know, I literally make thirst art of Poseidon (and that includes Zeus and Hermes), and you don’t see it as a bad thing??? It’s Poseidon… Do you know what he has done to women in the myths?!

Im going to ramble here and I will bring up stories from greek myth that have SA in it. So be aware.

One example is the story of Caeneus. When Caeneus was a woman, his parents left him to take care of the house while they were out running errands. Poseidon took that as an opportunity to break into the house and sexually assault him. This is probably the only myth where Poseidon actually feels bad after what he did, so he grants Caeneus a wish. Aww, how sweet~~~ /sarcasm.

Do I need to give an example of Zeus? We all know what Zeus does. But hey, I’ve made Poseidon/Hermes ship art. And guess what? There’s a story where Hermes breaks a woman’s leg so she can’t run away from him, and then he sexually assaults her. Isn’t that cute~~! /sarcasm

Heck, I can even go on with my biblical ships. David/Jonathan—David, a serial assaulter and murderer, and Jonathan, a mass murderer. But do I support their actions? No, I do not support mass murder, and its really dumb that I have to spell it out for you.

Daniel/Darius is even questionable too! It's literally a king and his servant, and that power imbalance is so big I don’t know what to tell you! Do I have to spell it out that I know that, in real life, king/servant relationships aren’t cute at all?!

All of these characters that I’ve listed have done or represent horrible things. And I have to tell you that I don't support their actions?! Really? You really can't think outside the box?

But do you see what I’m trying to tell you? We can simp over other ancient mythological figures but Antinous is the red line that we can never cross??? It’s hypocritical and immature, that’s what it is.

Right now, ppl loves the Ody seduces Zeus art I made. And that "ship" is well really questionable too! But nobody have called me a witch and tries to burn me at the stake yet. 😐

And the thing is, I can separate these fictional characters from the real world. I can also separate the fictional material from other fictional interpretations. Exemple, I like The Song of Achilles, in it, they are the same age, but I am also aware that in the Iliad, Achilles is 16 and Patroclus is 26. But do I automatically assume that Madeline Miller likes teens? No! Do I assume that everyone who likes The Song Of Achilles like that shit? No!

But we still can have a disscussion about it without making it into a witch trial.

As long as we can separate different fictional materials, then everything is fine. It only becomes a problem if a person can’t separate them. Then we have a problem. I can acknowledge that my depiction of King David from the bible is not the same as from the original story and that he is horrible person towards women. If I couldn't acknowledge that, then its bad! The same goes for Antinous if someone makes an AU or headcanon about him. If someone want so make AUs about Antinous, my first thoughts isnt "Oh they like to SA ppl!". At the end of the day, this is just a group from tiktok who didn’t like a toxic ship and decided to bully an artist while acting like they have superior morals.

And I get this type of shit from christians when I make my queer bible interpitations, both from those that don't like the queer stuff but also those that points out that David and Jonathan were horrible ppl.

So I rarely answer comments like this because they usually end up spewing beliefs filled with homophobia and Islamophobia. Heck rasism sometimes, apparently, Christians don’t know that the Bible takes place in the Middle East, and they are angry at me for drawing them looking like Arabs! I just delete their comments before they gets there. Making queer biblical animatics on TikTok that go viral on the Christian side is not fun at all guys....

And hate to say it but tiktok Epic fans sound really similar. You are acting like you’re on a pedestal, holier than thou. Its just a different font.

+ I haven’t forgotten all those homophobic comments I got on my David/Jonathan animatic that I posted right after my Ruthlessness animatic. Epic fans were saying they didn’t want “that gay shit” and wanted to see more Epic stuff. Hate to break it to you all, but the Epic fandom isn’t that innocent.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

what people think pro ship means: dangerous people who want to harm children in real life and/or think taboo subjects in real life are justified

what pro ship actually is about: the belief that people are allowed to enjoy fictional thing however they want, as long as it's fictional and no one in real life gets harmed or harassed in any way, and as long as they tag their trigger warnings properly.

most pro ship folks I've come across are just "hey, you like this fucked up thing that is fictional? okay, cool. you do you, man. I myself don't even like this thing that you like, but hey, it's not real. and I trust that you know the difference between fiction and reality, so you do you. if it ever gets too much for me, I will just block or mute you and move on with my life, but that doesn't mean I think you're a horrible person in real life because of the fictional thing you like, it just means I'd rather not see or engage with this thing that can make me uncomfortable. I still want you to have fun doing what you love, and I still think you're cool as fuck. love and respect, dude"

meanwhile most anti ship I've seen are like "omg you like this fictional thing where fictional children are harmed??! Red Flag Red Flag. put this gross piece of shit behind bars immediately!!!"

and I'm just ????? I don't normally engage in fandom wars, but I think, as long as you don't harass anyone in real life and as long as no one in real life is in danger or is harmed, how you enjoy fictional things is none of my business. and I'm not gonna make any "call out post" where I encourage my followers to harass you because you like fucked up fictional things that I personally don't like or believe is wrong either.

I mean, from personal experience, I was exposed against my will to thing I didn't want to see from anti's screenshot of fanart or fanfic where they encourage their followers to harass this person whose fanart or fanfic, that was screenshot and spread by them, was originally tagged properly with all the trigger warnings so that people who didn't want to see it wouldn't get exposed to it. until anti screenshot it and flaunted it around in the name of being morally superior while also, at the same time, advocated for the witch hunt against someone who just wanted to mind their own business. so... the irony. lol

fandoms used to be more peaceful before Fandom Police starts their witch hunting, but it's a good thing we can just block these people and keep on enjoying our blorbos however we want to enjoy them.

and I'll always encourage every artist to write whatever they want, draw whatever they want. don't let people who think they're "morally superior" tell you you can't make art this way or that way. my best advice would be to block and ignore and keep on creating what you want. they may be loud, but at the end of the day they're just noises and they're not worth your attention x

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 2 with Concept Art

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Let's go back a touch to when old Sanji reunited with his Zoro after the arm incident.

Sanji

I'm back Marimo-kun~! Sorry I was gone for so long!

Zoro

What the–? How the fuck did you get into my house?!

Sanji

Turns out I got this genetically-modified body so my limbs are practically replaceable! This isn't normal, right?

Commander 1

My Liege, we still need to attach the rest of the flesh.

Sanji

Oh, shush it now. I know it's just for padding at this point.

Anyway! This means we can keep fighting! Isn't that wonderful? I know your dad doesn't fight with that red-head anymore because of it.

Zoro

Dad? What are you…? Forget it. You're a freak. Get out. Now.

Sanji

Is…is it the hair? I thought I'd try something new…. I spent so long fixing it up for you. Do you not like it?

Zoro

Wait, what is that?

Sanji

Oh! This thing on my hand? It's a get-well-soon gift from my dear Doffy! He said I should at least try and make the fight fair for us so you won't get bored of me. What do you think?

Zoro

Fair? What do you mean fair?! And who the fuck is Doffy–?

Sanji

So many questions! Marimo-kun, I'm actually just here to propose. Let's go and get married!

Zoro

This…this must be some kind of a sick joke.

Sanji

I'm plenty serious actually. Come now, it'll be fun! If you marry me I'll give you all the sake you want~!

Zoro

You're barking mad if you think I'd agree to that.

Sanji

Commander, please present the dowry.

Darling, do you accept sea cows or do you prefer gold?

Zoro

Get the hell out of my house!!

Sanji

Hmm…you're right. I'm not doing this properly. Hey, is your dad still at Kuragaina? And was that a yes to sea cows?

Zoro

OUT!!!

This is Sanji's first of many marriage proposals.

---

Later in the week, a certain captain is over at Zoro's.

Law

You don't have to marry the man. Just get on his good side enough to get the information. I don't care how you do it.

Zoro

You ask too much this time, surgeon.

Law

Oh, for fuck's sake–you owe me. And I'm cashing in.

Zoro

Fine. But I'm only doing this for Luffy. What do you need exactly?

Law

I need to know if someone's still alive…. It's only a rumour but it would kill me I'd I don't find out for sure. And only he might know it.

Zoro

A friend of yours?

Law

You can say that.

Zoro

What's the name?

Law

It's…the Marines call him Corazon.

----------

Notes: I'm still exploring how to do dialogue the way my brain lays it out in my head. I've written scripts for storyboarding purposes before but Tumblr layout won't let me do what I need so bullet points it is. Oh well! Depending on feedback I might change it up.

[iamespecter]

I'm probably not gonna follow you (sorry I don't like showtime too much 😭) but I heard you ship buttonblossom

I don't wanna go scrolling for some, so can I see atleast one? :3

(Please, I'm begging, I've been getting too little jesterdoll lately bc tumblr is adamant on showing me only Nuzi and Lumity (2 ships i still love lol) and not my personal favorite ship of all time 😭)

I was about to answer this with a "sorry I don't do requests" but if the Ragapom drought is much worse than I thought, then I have to provide for the homies for once... as someone who's also gone through multiple shipping droughts....

So have this unfinished remake of one of my first TADC art ever

That being said though, a word of advice: change your wording. The way you structured your sentence is personally insulting, it was worded like, "Hey I don't want to be around you, but I heard you like something I do, so can you do it for me"

Which made me feel like I'm just an art machine ready to churn out whatever. I won't hold it against you because I know it wasn't your intention, but again. Change your wording. /gen

[joedirtymadre]

How bout an angst and fluffy Luffy x reader? Like, he's trying his best to be a good boyfriend but he doesn't know exactly how do it. So he gets insecure and afraid of reader leaving him

The Painting

LUFFY X READER! ANGST + FLUFF! (STILL ACCEPTING REQUESTS! SEND EM RN! 😤😤)

You were peacefully working on a new painting. You had a strong passion for art, but recently you have decided to pick up painting again. Plus, today is a slow day on the ship, so why not? You hummed to yourself, as you continued to add the finishing touches to your work. “Wow, you really outdid yourself this time,” you smiled to yourself as you took a moment to look at your canvas. It was a portrait of the whole crew, you wanted to surprise everyone at dinner with it. You spent the last few weeks on it too, so I’m sure that they’ve been waiting for the reveal.

You then heard your door open and saw Luffy. “Hey Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)! Hey can I hide here? I’m playing hide and seek with Usopp and Chopper,” he explained as he ran over and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure, but please don’t tip over my supplies. Last time you made a mess I spent 2 weeks cleaning it up,” you sighed. “I promise!” He said as he quickly jumped into your supply closet.

You continued your artwork, until you were disrupted again. You heard a small knock on the door and soon Chopper opened the door. “Hi Chopper, what brings you here?” You asked. “Hi (Y/N)! Have you seen Luffy?” He asked. “Hmmm… I haven’t sorry,” you smiled. “Hmmm… well can I look around your office? Just in case,” he said. “Go ahead,” you said as you continued painting.

Chopper checked under the table, in your art boxes, and was now heading to your closet. You lightly giggled as you knew your boyfriend was about to get caught. Chopper quickly opened the closet door, and out jumped Luffy. He began running around the small office, “Hey Luffy, this isn’t tag!” Chopper shouted as he chased him. “Now it is!” He yelled, as they circled around you. “Luffy be care-“ you were cut off by Luffy running into you. You fell straight into your paint, easel, and most importantly your painting.

The two boys quickly stopped and stared as you slowly picked yourself up and stared at the destroyed painting. Smudged and ripped, even your easel broke. “(Y-Y/N) I-“ you ran out before you could hear another word from your stupid boyfriend.

Luffy’s POV

I watched as (Y/N) ran off, I tried to chase after her but Chopper blocked me. “Wait! I think she should be alone right now Luffy, she might say something she doesn’t mean because of how she’s feeling. So, just give her some space,” he explained. “But I have to tell her I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to play,” I explained. “I know, but we messed up. Really bad, and she needs time to herself right now,” Chopper said. I grabbed my head in frustration.

I looked over to the destroyed painting and realized it was a painting of all of us. “This is what she’s been working on for weeks,” I said softly. “Oh no, and we ruined it!” Chopper cried. “No, I ruined it. I always ruin things for her,” I said as I picked up the painting. “That’s not true, she loves you Luffy,” Chopper said. I shook my head, “She deals with me, I keep doing dumb things and it always ends with me hurting her or breaking her stuff,” I sighed as I placed the canvas on her table.

“It’s ok Luffy, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t be with you. Right?” Chopper asked. “I guess,” I said. “I’m gonna go check on her,” Chopper said before running out of the room. I sat on her stool and stared at the mess I made. “Why do I keep messing things up? Maybe… I should leave her alone, then she wouldn’t have to deal with me. She could tell me to leave her alone if we weren’t dating, like Nami,” I said to myself.

I dragged myself to the deck and straight to my spot, to try and think. “Hey Luffy,” Nami said as she sat on her beach chair. “Hey…” I said softly as I continued to drag myself. “What’s wrong? Did (Y/N) kick you out of her art room?” She laughed. “No,” I moped. “Woah, then what’s wrong? Here come take a seat,” she said as she pointed to the other beach chair.

I told her the whole story and ended up with 4 bumps on my head. “You idiot! How could you do that to her?” Nami frowned. “I know… Nami… has she ever talked about how much I mess up around her?” I asked. “(Y/N)? No, not really. She just tells me how fun and cute you are,” she explained. “Really? Even that time I broke her clay pot?” I asked. “Oh man, she was so mad that day, but no… Now that I think about it she didn’t talk bad about you,” Nami said. “What about the time I accidentally squeezed her paint tube too hard and it got all over her face?” I asked. “Nope, nothing,” she said. “Or when I dropped-“ I was cut off.

“Ok I get it, you’ve done a lot of bad things. But she’s never talked bad about you, I think she knows that mistakes happen… especially around you,” Nami pointed out. “But I really messed up this time, what if she wants to break up. She should break up with me… I keep making her mad or sad,” I sighed as I fell back into the chair. “Or… you could make it up to her. Come on captain, you’ve fought warlords and admirals. I’m sure you can fix this problem and make your girlfriend a little less mad at you,” she said. “You’re right! I can try and fix it!” I said excitedly. “But I’m gonna need help,” I said, determined.

Your POV

You’ve been in bed for the last 6 hours. Chopper and Nami checked up on you, but you had no strength to get up. You just need some time to calm down. Suddenly a knock on your door, you didn’t respond, hoping the person on the other side would think you’re asleep. However, the door slowly opened. You saw your idiot captain peek inside, “(Y/N)?” He called out.

“Go away Luffy, I don’t feel good right now,” you said as you turned around, showing your back to him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, really sorry… I know you’re really mad at me, but I wanted to make it up to you,” he said as he stepped close. “How?” You asked. “Can I show you?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You slowly turned around, seeing a distressed look on your usually careless boyfriend. “Sure,” you said calmly before getting up.

“But I need you to wear this,” he said, handing you a blindfold. You stared at it with one eyebrow raised. “Please?” He asked. You nodded and quickly put it over your eyes, you then felt a warm hand grab yours. “Alright hold on,” you heard, before being picked up in bridal style. “L-Luffy?” You asked, feeling your face heat up. “Well, I don’t want you to trip while being blindfolded, so I’ll just carry you,” he explained.

You then laid in his arms as he carried you to wherever it was that he wanted to show you. “Alright, I’m gonna put you down now,” he said softly before helping you down onto your feet. “Alright now on 3, take off your blindfold,” he said as he stepped away from you. “Ok,” you said.

“1,2,3,” he said, and you quickly took off the blindfold. You gasped at the scene in front of you. It was your art room, clean and way more organized than it was before. Also, your easel was fixed with a bunch of more upgrades to it, and finally your eyes fell to the painting on the easel. “My painting!” You said excitedly. You smiled as you saw the rough strokes and the taped backing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was way better than how it looked earlier.

“Did you do all of this?” You turned to ask Luffy. “I had some help, but I wanted to fix what I messed up earlier,” he explained. You ran over and gave him a kiss, “Thank you Luffy! I’m so happy,” you smiled and hugged him. “You’re not still mad?” He asked nervously. “Mad?” You asked, confused. “Well… I always mess up your crafts or art projects, I know how upset it makes you,” he said as he stared at the floor. “Well I do get a bit upset, but I know you don’t mean it. I just give myself some time alone so I don’t say anything that I might regret later,” you explained. “Wow, Chopper was right,” he said.

“But I’m really sorry I messed up your painting, I know how hard you worked on it,” he said, before pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, I forgive you. Just next time, no more games in my art room, ok?” You asked. “Deal,” he smiled. “Oh, I made you something,” he said, pulling away. “Huh?” You asked. He grabbed a small canvas from the table and turned to show you.

You pouted when you realized it was a portrait of you and him. “I know it’s not that good, but-“ you interrupted him. “It’s perfect! I’ll hang it up right now!” You said as you pulled him into a hug. “Really?” He said excitedly. “Yeah, and we should paint together sometime, you’re a natural,” you smiled, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You think so? I did have fun doing this,” he grinned. “Mhmm!” You nodded and you both went to hang his masterpiece on your wall.

[katealpha]

Art by Art by @Dizy Wata ToonS

—-—————————————-

Halloween 2024

After the pervious stream, Nina went completely radio silent outside of social media. Other than posts about her condition and other topics, her only major announcement was that she would be staying home for the 31st, saying that the serpents in contact with her believed that leaving the house at the current point in gestation would put her in serious danger.

The newest stream began at 6 pm. The camera activated, pointing into the penthouse’s kitchen before Nina slowly waddled around the camera and into frame, wearing a rather seductive hollow dress. One that was commonly depicted in memes as of late. She was noticeably bigger than the week previous, but not drastically. Immediately it could be seen that she was in a dower mood, pouting and looking rather distracted.

“Ugh…hey everyone…thought I’d dress up for Halloween…yaaaay…” Nina moaned as she waved her hands weakly. “Sorry I’m not smiling, but I feel so fucking bloated right now, I can’t even be bothered. I was gonna eat candy on stream, but I….ate all of it throughout the day. I think all that chocolate did something inside, because I haven’t had a single craving since…I wanna say three hours. My guts have just felt like complete crap…one sec.”

A rumble audibly passed through her body and she forced out a deep, loud belch.

“BOOOOOOUUURP!!!”

Nina waved her hand in front of her face. “Blegh, too many butterfingers. But uh, I hope you all like the dress. It was the only thing I really had laying around that my belly would fit inside comfortably. Not even my lobster onesie. Honestly, I just can’t wait for these things to get out of me.” She sighed and began to stroke her hand over her belly. “It was a little fun, and I’m not gonna let the money I get from this go to waste, but I have never felt so internally…off…than I do right now. Like, I’m growing aliens in my body, and it feels like yesterday I was skinny. It’s all gone so fast for me, and I want my body back to myself. If any of yall out there watching wanna go and do it, honestly, it’s not the worst thing you can do to get money quick, but don’t do what I did and stay home. Stay on the damn ship so you aren’t spending over 5,000 on food. I’m not kidding, all 5,000 of that went right in here to my b-“

As she was rambling and complaining about her condition, a sudden but ominous rumble visibly quivered around her belly. It made her stop and look down, a pained wince crossing her features.

“H-hold on. That didn’t feel right…they’re staring to really squirm in there…”

Nina’s lip scrunched up as she began to poke and prod her belly. But then, her stomach did more than just quiver. It quaked under her dress, another deep rumble bubbling up. Nina gasped loudly and she staggered where she stood.

“Oooohh!! Oh…oh my god…that hurt so bad…was that a…aaagghhhhhh!!!!”

With another quake from inside, Nina grabbed her belly with her hands and tried to move forward from the counter, only to lose her balance and slam down on her side into the camera’s tripod, knocking it over. The camera fell to the floor where all sight of Nina was lost. Only capturing the hardwood floor of the kitchen, the actress was panting and trying her best to speak through the intense contractions she was feeling.

“Aaaaaagghhhhh!! If you can still hear me….it hurts!!! Nina hissed and moaned. “My water just broke…oh my god…I can’t get my phone, and I can’t get up! Someone!! Someone help!!” Nina cried out, her voice strained and panicking. Internal rumbles were heard, alongside Nina’s moans of pain, which were turning into frightened sobs. “Why did I do this to myself…I don’t wanna die like this!! They’re moving so much! I think I’m gonna- oh my god I think I’m gonna…explode!! Somebody please help me!!”

After that last pleasing die help, the sound of a door breaking open was heard. Several feet and pairs of legs were seen crossing the view of the camera, followed by swaying thin black tails with pincers on the end. They spoke in identical, modulated voices.

“Brood Volunteer located! Inducing stasis!” One of the alien creatures called out.

After a brief moment, Nina’s panting went silent. Another alien spoke with a slightly deeper pitch.

“The human should consider herself lucky we were already on our way to bring her to the Annihilator for larval removal. She could have died just now.”

The other serpent spoke up.

“She should be alright now until we bring her to sick bay. Prepping her for extraction now!”

The camera was then picked up by a third serpent who looked directly into the camera. The alien had skin as black as charcoal, with a mouth full of silver teeth, slit nostrils, and a reflective membrane dome where the eyes should be. It grinned softly.

“The human was logging herself on this device. It is still recording. It appears to be broadcasting live.”

In view over the serpent’s shoulder was the other two carrying the massively pregnant across by her wrists and ankles towards the back porch where a bright light was shining through. One of them nodded its head towards its other comrade.

“Deactivate it. She will not be returning for hours.”

After that, the serpent turned the camera around towards the now fluid covered kitchen floor, ending the stream.

Shortly after, eyewitnesses reported seeing a small alien transport fly from the LA skyline towards the massive saucer ship hovering just above the cloud layer.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere //// Part 3

Part 1 • 2

With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far 

But you are isolated by most 

And verbally tested by the lieutenant

“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”

“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”

“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”

Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant

“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!” 

“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”

“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”

It doesn’t get any better

No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops

It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day

“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”

“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”

“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”

“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”

One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood

Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place

You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome

It’s easy to keep you happy that way

Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you

So that you can enjoy in peace

But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone

They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place

Not just for you but for Vera too 

Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience

“You are the technician, fix it!”

“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”

“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”

Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats

In truth, they aren’t threats

They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you

When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent

“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”

“Me too.”

“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”

“Sure!” 

In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’

Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind

To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different

As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well

It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way

Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely 

putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod

“Why cannot I not try it out now?”

“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”

“But…I want to feel you both.”

“Soon Ver. Soon.”

Part 4: Coming?

[mingis-orangejuice]

Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 3: Rafayel

Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend

a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) Here's Rafayel's part. I'm still writing Sylus' part, so it might take a little longer to come out

Genres/Warnings: angst, fluff, kinda slow burn, a little suggestive

Word count: 1114

Other parts: 1, 2, 4

Under the dazzling lights of an enormous banquet hall, you stand alone awkwardly looking at your phone. It was another one of Rafayel’s art shows. While you love to support him and his art, after going to about 4 different events in one week it gets old. Thomas was really running Rafayel rampant these past few weeks to get him to sell as much as possible before he goes off on one of his random solo trips. And even tho Rafayel hates these types of events he knew it would be good for his image and his wallet (not that he needs it) 

Why did Rafayel have to leave you by yourself? You hated going to big fancy events the only plus side of coming to these was getting to spend time with your boyfriend… wait was he your boyfriend? You guys never actually had that conversation but he gets pretty boyfriend-y when you guys are alone he calls you every night before bed to tell you goodnight, takes you on expensive overnight trips and gets all pouty if you don’t stay the night, but he also still calls you Miss bodyguard but sometimes calls you his muse. What does that even mean? Was he just playing with you or was there something more? 

You were thinking so hard about this that your facial expression looked pretty intense. You didn't even notice that most people at the event were actively avoiding you since you looked like you were ready to explode.

“Hey babe,” a voice from behind you snapped you out of your deep thought. Your expression changed to one of confusion and disgust at the random man who felt that it was ok to call you babe “Are you here alone? I can show you around. I know everything about these art pieces.”

You looked at him, now with a blank expression “Really?” you questioned sarcasm heavily coating your voice. Where is Rafayel? Why is he taking so long to come back? Thomas said he’d only be gone for a few minutes, but it's been over half an hour and now some creep is trying to talk to you.

“Yeah, I'm close personal friends with the artist, I’m actually his inspiration for most of his work, I’m basically an artist too he should be giving me half the profits from these since I’m such an integral part of his work, but I let him keep all of it since we’re such good friends” He steps closer to you as he spouts his nonsense. You, looking rightfully annoyed with him step back but this guy doesn’t get the hint and keeps stepping closer “What d’ you say, babe? Wanna spend the rest of the night with a real artist?  He continues to advance towards you while you step back even further, in your mission to get away from this creep you didn't notice one of the wires running along the floor that connected to one of the lights illuminating an art piece. You tripped backwards. Luckily a firm pair of arms was there to catch you before you hit the floor.

You look up to see who your saviour is. And to your surprise, it was none other than Rafayel. “For a bodyguard, you’re very clumsy” he chucked while steadying you.

“It’s not my fault,” you say preparing to defend yourself.

“I know, it was his” Rafayel points to the creep that had been pursuing you. “What do you think you’re doing pestering MY muse? She clearly doesn't like you can’t you take a hint or is that head of yours just full of fish tank pebbles”

“Just who do you think you are, if you hadn’t come in and ruined everything she woulda gone home with me” The creep angrily stepped towards you and Rafayel. He looks towards you trying to grab your wrist “Babe tell this guy to fuck off so we can get back to our conversation alright.”

Rafayel quickly swats his hand away “Why would she go home with a loser who pretends to be an artist just to get in her pants, when she can have this real artist who gets to be in her pants every night?” Rafayel says with a shit-eating grin. 

“Raf!” You lightly slap his chest a little amused and a bit embarrassed that he would say something like that out loud.

“Yeah, whatever she’s ugly anyway” The creep tries to leave, but Rafayel signals to some of the staff to grab that guy and remove him from the event. As the staff are holding the creep by the arms Rafayel brings his face close to his. “You’re lucky I’m only having them throw you out of the venue for talking about my muse like that.”

Later once the event was over, you and Rafayel were sitting in his living room, he was sketching some new ideas for paintings, and you were absent mindlessly playing on your phone, the questions from earlier still buzzing through your head. While lost in thought Rafayel lays his head on your shoulder. This makes your heart skip a beat and breaks you out of your trance.

“What are we ?” you suddenly ask slightly turning your head to where Rafalye was leaning.

“What?” he lifts his head off your shoulder to look at you confused.

You took a deep breath before starting, scared of confrontation, but you just had to know “When we were at your art show you kept calling me your muse, and apart from that you also act like my boyfriend most days, but you’ve never said that you were and you’ve also never called me your girlfriend. So I’ll ask again, what are we?”

“What, I thought it was obvious?” he said with a little smile. He takes both your hands into his and looks into your eyes

“Well, it's not obvious to me, so?” you wanted to look away from his gaze but you were afraid if you did you wouldn’t have the courage to look back at him again.

“You’re my muse,” he said excitedly, smile growing even bigger.

“I knew it, that's all I am to you just some inspiration for your art ” You sigh and get up to leave but he holds tighter to your hands

Is that what you think a muse is ?” He laughed softly. “To me a muse not only inspires my art but is my art, everything I do is for my muse. My muse consumes my every waking thought, I need her to be around me at all times to even function properly. You’re more than just a girlfriend to me, you’re my most precious muse.”

[withahappyrefrain]

⭐ 60 Fun Meet Cutes ⭐

1) A and B’s coffee orders are identical. Confusion (and promised calls) occur.

2) A always steals B’s parking spot and normally they wouldn't say anything but not today asshole!

3) A and B are seated next to each other at the singles table for a wedding.

4) B owns a bookshop and A really needs this book because their book club meeting is in two days.

5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting.

6) A pretends to be B’s significant other because they can tell that creep is bothering B.

7) They meet at the dog park and their dogs won't stop playing with one another.

8) They meet at the dog park and B’s dog won't stop following A’s!

9) They're both at a party and notice the other is sitting alone on the couch so we join.

10) They get volun-told to do a karaoke duet by their respective friend groups.

12) A and B’s families have been trying to set them up for years. They meet by accident.

13) A runs a stand at the local farmers market that B loves (the owner being cute and sweet is a major plus too).

14) They grab the same book at the library.

15) “You have the wrong number, but stay on!”

16) A and B have been set up on a blind date together. Neither one of them expect it to go well, given their mutual friend's track record.

17) A and B both want the last pack of cigarettes. It's not even for themselves, but they'll certainly argue about it.

18) "Hi, I'm pretty sure I saw you on a dating app and while I swiped right, you did not and wow you're beautiful in person."

19) A’s a tour guide for B, who is currently supervising a field trip of twenty seven-year olds.

20) A is B’s least favorite author but they don't realize until halfway through their rant.

21) "Hey, my friend is into your friend. But they're too scared to make a move, can you help me get them together?"

22) They're at the grocery store and A can't reach the item on the top shelf, so B helps them.

23) “Hey, so I helped your grandparent cross the street and they insisted that I meet you, their grandchild.”

24) It's their high school reunion and A is like eighty percent sure B was their lab partner, unfortunately B has no idea what they're talking about.

25) A’s friends insisted on going to a strip club for a bachelor/bachelorette party and A is really enjoying their time talking to B, the hostess.

26) An unexpected torrential downpour happens and they end up taking shelter at the same place.

27) “I'm your neighbor and I swear to God, if you don't turn that music down-"

28) They’re both PhD students and their dissertations contradict each other's and boy, are they going to have some intense eye contact about it.

29) B is A’s child's new teacher and their kid won't stop mentioning that their parent is single.

30 “I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans.”

31) A is the hot firefighter who visits B’s classroom to talk about safety.

32) A and B are paired up for a roller coaster and one of them needs to hold the other's hand to get through the ride.

33) “Look, your date may not want to dance with you, but I certainly will!”

34) They're both celebrities and their fans ship them so A and B do an interview together for their respective press tours.

35) They're both on the bus and A is reading the book B’s been wanting so badly and they gotta know if it's good or not because the waitlist at the library is ridiculous.

36) They're at an art museum and have wildly different interpretations of the same portrait.

37) It's been arranged by their families for A and B to marry as a peace treaty. When they meet for the first time, they bond over their families fighting

38) "Do you mind if I sit here? There are no other seats available."

39) A doesn’t know why their friend's girlfriend invited them to their coworker's nephew's bar mitzvah but they have a stain from the chocolate fountain and B is an angel with their Tide to go stick.

40) “If you don't fix your collar/tie/hat, I will do it myself!”

41) “The food in your grocery store cart looks so good, what are you making?"

42) A sees B at the Renaissance Fair and is determined to give B a rose.

43) They're both at the eye doctor and can't figure out which glasses to buy.

44) They end up sitting next to each other in a movie theater during a horror movie, and cling to each other for moral support

45) A owns a flower shop and B just needs the courage to go inside and say hello.

46) B’s dog somehow got out and A find it. Yes, it's late at night but from B’s voice over the phone, A knows they need to return this dog STAT.

47) A has always signed up to bring the dessert for their work's potluck. Who does B think they are taking their slot?

48) A’s friends signed them up for a dating app and set them up on a date with B without A’s knowledge.

49) B’s running an adoption event and A doesn’t even like animals but my God, is B so damn cute with them.

50) They're spies who have to pretend to be a couple for an assignment.

51) They’re professors who teach the same course but disagree over teaching methods.

52) A is B’s friend's asshole boss and B is just trying to drop off C’s lunch without strangling A.

53) A’s a witch who run a shop. B barges in, asking about the best curse to give someone (without killing them of course).

54) A is a hairdresser at a fancy salon and B shouldn't be spending $150 on a haircut but they need to talk to A.

55) A is a personal trainer and B is their client and A knows they need to keep it professional but it's really hard!

56) A is the photographer and B’s the caterer for the worst wedding ever.

57) It's the county Fair and A has lost their niece/nephew, so they ask B for help.

58) A is having a horrendous case of writer’s block, B works at the cafe A has been staying in for the past few days and is very concerned.

59) Hades and Persephone AU bc why not

60) A is a tattoo artist and it's B's first time getting a tattoo.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Birdbox (3/5)

Word count; 3.8k

For the first time, Y/n had the concious thought about whether they could use their ability to see their surroundings. They always thought their blindness was a curse, but in the apolcolypse, it had come in usefully. Whether this was only an ability in their sleep, Y/n had yet to determine, but they hoped it wasn’t — Y/n didn’t see any other way to survive.

Y/n laid their head against the counter. They plugged their phone in, dreading the day when electricity was no longer available and Siri — Y/n’s only friend — was silenced. And then came the issue of food. They were stuck. Y’n couldn’t help but ponder death. They were aware of how generally awful they were as a person, and that kept Y/n with a will to live and a will to die.

Y/n was selfish, rude, and a coward. They were bitter at the world for being unfair and punished the people around them the same. Too selfish and afraid to die, but too hateful toward the world to live. It was a conundrum. Y/n figured, though, that their general confusion would be the death of them, as they were too confused on what to do. Y/n had their talents in a paintbrush, not a weapon. Y/n couldn’t see. Y/n hardly knew the area because their father often shipped groceries to their doorstep so Y/n only left the house for exhibitions, interviews, and art supplies. 

Their father. Y/n sat up, grabbing the phone. 

“Hey, Siri. Call dad.”

The phone began ringing. The screen was slightly cracked, but its not as though Y/n cared. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. After the tone, please leave a message.”

A wave of sadness and worry washed over Y/n. They recognized that their father was the most important person in their life. Perhaps his phone was dead. Perhaps it was lost. Perhaps he was asleep.

Or perhaps he was dead.

For the first time since hell had descended on earth, Y/n began to cry. They wandered over to the couch to lay down, curling on their side. For the first time in a while, they thought of ‘Last Look’s dreadful day.

“Doctor, why can’t my child see? How can they get their sight back?” their father pleaded.

“Sir, I’m sory, We’ve ran several tests, but sometimes, things like this happen. A hidden gene. A faulty switch in the occipital lobe. Although there is still no noticable differences in their brain development, nerves, or blood work, cases like this happen. It’s unfortunate, and unfair. Sometimes, the eyes shut down entirely overnight from unknown causes. And, currently, we don’t have the technology to do anything about it.”

Their father’s eyebrows furrowed. Although Y/n couldn’t see it, he was losing hope. He wondered if he had somehow failed his only child. 

“I… I did some research. They somehow made a young boy see again —“

“That was a scientific anomaly, sir,” the doctor argued desperately. “And anyway, this clinic is incapable of giving that kind of treatment.”

Y/n’s father began to sob. They are crying, too. The doctor’s words scared them. They clawed and rubbed at their eyes, but their father grabbed their hands, squeezing tightly. He comforted them, whispering sweet words that everything would be alright. That they would make due. That there was nothing wrong with being blind. That it wasn’t the end of the world.

But Y/n was only a child. Their entire future had been robbed. Y/n didn’t know of any blind heros. Anyone out there that made a living or lived independently. Y/n was uneducated. All they knew was that their world had ended, and that they wanted to see again.

And see they now did. Y/n shot up. It was but a blink, but they saw. It was like they physically transcended their body and walked to the door, going right through it. They reached for a canvas, their fingers tracing it like a memory. A man. Middle-aged, beer-bellied, straggling jawline, balding. Pale eyes with a daze. Pounding, over and over. His knuckles bleeding. His clothes torn and bloody. The woman’s corpse beside him, eyes torn open and from her skull, as though his fingers had dug into them to remove them personally. In the woman’s chest, there was an iron rod.

Y/n could still see it clearly. The man was really there, still pounding ruthlessly. Y/n had blocked out the knocking, but with sudden focus, their ears returned to the sound.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They dropped the brush and went over to the kitchen. They pulled a knife from the drawe, removing the blade cover. The wind was still howling outside, pounding at the windows. They went over to the door.

Y/n suddenly found courage and a voice.

“How are you alive? Why are you here? How did you know I was here?”

The knocking stopped suddenly. With its absense, an eerie silence followed. Y/n suddenly regretted speaking up.

A gruff voice, enchanted yet ery, very dry and cracked, answered. “They showed me true beuty. They want me to show you. Let me give you my eyes, Y/n. I want to give you my eyes —“

“Why is everyone else dead but you? What’s doing all this?” Y/n’s voice was shaky yet steady. 

“…Sinners. All of them. They did not want to see. But I do. You do. They want me to show you it all. Open the door, Y/n. Let me give you my eyes.”

“That’s impossible. I am blind. Please, leave me alone —“

“But you have the sight!” the man suddenly boomed. “They gave it to you a long, long time ago. And now, they will show you everything great and beautiful. Open the door. Open the door. Let me give you my eyes.”

Y/n only grew more confused with every sentence. Nothing made sense. 

“How will you give me your eyes?”

Manic, cracked laughter ensued. “I will tear them from my skull and hand them to you. You must see it, Y/n. It is beautiful! Beautiful, I tell you! Open the door!”

“Leave your eyes at the doorstep. I will take them that way.”

“I wish to see you myself. They speak so highly of you. You are the most beautiful landscape of all. I must see you, Y/n. I must see you and hand you my eyes —!”

Shivers rolled down their spine and they took a step away from the door. Y/n was left with more questions than answers. The whole endeavor was pointless. However, Y/n knew that they couldn’t stand the knocking anymore. And they didn’t trust that this man would just die. Something supernatural had consumed the world. The man’s eyes weren’t normal. Perhaps his biology wasn’t, either.

With that, Y/n didn’t let the fear take over. They unlocked the front door and swung it open. The voice was no longer muffled. They aimed to stab, but the man suddenly bellowed and collapsed to his knees. The man was far more vocally gruesome with a door no longer seperating them. The man bowed.

His scarred, bloody hands touched Y/n’s feet. He scrambled and panted. Y/n is left stunned, allowing the man to grovel at their feet. 

Sobs echoed the empty hallway.

And Y/n was shaking from head to toe.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” he cried. “They were right! The most beautiful thing in creation!”

His praises fell on deaf ears. Rough hands squeezed Y/n’s feet and they felt overwhelming disgust, overpowering the fear. The hands clawe at their calves and then their thighs. Suddenly, he withdrew, falling silent. His face was drenched in sweat. He glistened with salt and oil. Tears continued to fall, and although Y/n did not know, his eyes were glued to their figure in awe.

And then, he began to claw. He dug his thumb and pointer finger into his eyelids. Y/n stumbled back, hearing the squelch. The man released painful gurgles. Slowly and painfully, he removed his eyes. The man sobbed desperately, and yet all he cried was blood.

Y/n felt a spray against their pants. Y/n had enough. Their selfish, angry side kicked in, adrenaline suddenly bursting through their veins. Gritting their teeth, they stabbed the man in the neck, somehow knowing exactly where to aim. The man gurgled out a cry, dropping his eyeballs and collapsing to the welcome mat. Y/n kicked the man away, feeling their socks get drenched with liquids. The man’s thud was the last sound he made. 

Y/n felt around the corpse for the knife, disgusted. They removed it. 

They slammed the door shut and locked it again.

The corpse sat there. The man lay there, decaying and wet. The eyeballs were completely seperated and long cords spun out from his eyes. Despite the pain he and Y/n had caused, the man was smiling.

Y/n was rattled to their core, turning and sliding down the door. Their hands had intense tremors. They knew damn well they couldn’t stay stuck. The wind was howling, harder and harder. The beast was near. And the insane missionary had found them once. Another one surely could. 

Y/n stayed frozen on the floor, cradling the moist knife like a child, for a very, very long time. It was slowly settling on them that they had commited murder. It didn’t feel like self-defense. The man had worshipped them, for christ’s sake. They couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened, had they taken the eyes? What would they have seen?

They decided to think it over in the shower; they knew they had to move while they had the resources. Siri wouldn’t live forever. Their food supply wouldn’t last. They needed to find a grocery store to camp in — one that wouldn’t be too populated with hypothetical looters.

They also needed resolution on what happened to their father.

When they hopped out of the shower, they began to pack the essentials: their charger, phone, cane, clothing, food, and paints. Everything they’d need to survive, but also live. 

Y/n’s first thought of where to go was the corner store down the block. It’s where they often went for an easy snack. Y/n took their cane and turned Siri on to the corner store. They shoved the phone in their pocket after plugging in earbuds. 

They felt their way toward the elevator. Their ears were keen, but the hallway was silent.Usually, their apatment building was full of hustle and bustle, especially at… god, Y/n didn’t even know what time it was. So, they asked while in the elevator.

“Seven-thirty-three.”

The elevator beeped and the doors opened. More silence. Siri repeated directions, but Y/n knew the way to the front entrance. 

They paused. The beast seemed to follow their every move; it was everywhere. It was the air Y/n was breathing. That much they knew. They hovered, afraid to leave. But Y/n’s will to survive and be selfish was the most important part.

And then they hear it: a screaming woman. Y/n dashed out the door, selfishly believing this was their chance. In Y/n’s mind, the wind would divert its attention, even if it was an entire entity. The screams echoed and grew louder. The wind was bustling and squealing in their ears. They could hardly use their cane, relying solely on Siri’s directions.

“Turn left to reach your destination.”

Y/n skidded to a stop, losing their footing. Y/n grunted loudly, knowing they would probably be left with a nasty bruise. They scrambled onto their knees. They dropped the cane, but as the wind whistled and bustled, the cane was the last thing on their mind. In their world of darkness, they crawled forward, finally feeling at a glass panel. Y/n scrambled to their feet, gripping the handle.

They pulled at it desperately, almost falling again as the door swung open. They felt papers adorn the inside, and a wave of relief washed over them as they pulled the door shut. Y/n was shaking in their boots as they held the position, feeling the wind beat against the door. 

Click.

Y/n tensed, turning wildly and reluctantly releasing the doorknob. Their voice came out as a squeak.

“Who’s there?”

“Don’t move. Hands up.”

A man’s voice echoed in the otherwise silent corner store. The man sounds gruff, and Y/n can tell that the man sounds rather redneck. And by the clicking, the man held a gun. Y/n complied.

The man emerged from behind a shelf, crouched slightly, and had a pistol aimed directly at them. Y/n panted, unaware of the man’s exact location. Their head turned every which way, attempting to locate the man. The man wore a dark leather jacket and was somewhat older. He had a peppered beard and a big bald spot on his head. He wore glasses and ripped jeans, giving off the general aesthetic of a retired biker. 

“Now, what’s it like out there? Have you seen it?”

“I - I don’t know. It’s quiet, sir,” Y/n stuttered. “I’m blind — I can’t see the monster —“

“Bullshit.”

“I dropped my cane right outside the door —“

“I know you’re just like the last guy. Trying to fool me, are you —“

“I’m blind! I’m Y/n L/n — I’m famous, haven’t you fucking heard of me, you fucking loser?” Y/n exclaimed, almost insulted. “Just look out, and you’ll see you fucking cane —“

While Y/n had been ranting and tossing insults at the man, he had progressed silently. Y/n stared out blankly, expression angry and unchanging as the man snuck up on them. Y/n paused, breathing heavily. All they saw was darkness, unaware of whether a gunshot would shoot them dead.

“Boo.”

Y/n jumped wildly, flailing to the ground. They burst into tears, which made the man laugh. He glanced out the paper, noticing the cane. “By golly, I guess you are blind. Or one hell of an actor. You don’t got the same eyes as them, either.”

“Jesus, fuck you —“

The man lowered his gun and chuckled gruffly. “Yeah, yeah. If you saw the world we were living in right now, you’d understand. Now, get away from the door and behind this here counter.”

Without asking, the man grabbed and pulled them. Y/n frowned firmly but allowed it to happen. Behind the counter was a small pile of wrapper trash and a torn up sleeping bag. The man beckoned to sit, but they gathered that once they felt the counter. Their movements were still skittery, untrusting of the man before them.

“So, let’s exchange stories.”

“Stories?”

“My name is Mark. I’m the owner of this establishment, although that doesn’t mean much these days,” he explained. “I followed the news religiously, waiting for something like this. Then, I noticed reports of mass hysteria starting in Italy. I shut down shop immediately, and not even an hour or so later, the news turned to shit, and so did the world outside. I learned that whatever’s out there cannot be seen and all that shit, so I’ve got my trusty blindfold around my neck just in case. And finally, I guess it’s safe here for now, but we sure as hell can’t stay here. It’s a fucking corner store. The supplies aren’t endless.”

Y/n listened intently to his ramblings and, deciding to suspend distrust, nodded and replied. “Yeah, okay. So, I’m blind. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me. I’m the ‘blind painter.’ I had a gallery that day and was heading home when it all started. Uh, and I was fine until I started having… dreams. Seeing things that were there. Like this cult guy outside my door that wouldn’t leave me alone. I actually saw what he looked like in my head. I killed the guy and he was fucking worshiping me. Something about how he wanted me to see. God, he pulled out his eyes —“ Y/n stopped, replaying that moment in their head and shuddering. “Uh, and I came here… Oh. And I’m Y/n.”

“The fuck?”

“I guess this plague affects everyone differently, but if I’d known that, I sure as hell wouldn’t have let you in.”

“It’s a gift,” Y/n insisted anxiously. “A stupid one. But my father always told me god gave me eyes in my dreams. The truth is, I think I’ve seen the monster in my dreams. And when I focused, I could see the man outside my apartment. But only when asleep.”

“Prove it. Show me some of your drawings. You obviously brought the fucking supplies.”

“I haven’t used this notebook in years. It’s only old drafts,” Y/n answered, withdrawing the notebook from their bag. 

“Well, if you’re some fancy painter, it doesn’t really matter.”

Without warning, the man snatched the notebook from their grasp and started going through the pages. He slowly goes through them, ignoring Y/n’s angry expression from the invasion. Inside the notebook was several drafts of pretty locations. Some faces. The occasional animal.

Mark paused at a page, his brows crinkling. “This the monster you saw in your head?”

“What is it?”

Mark described it to them.

“Yes. Although that could have been my imagination.”

Mark continued to stare at the scribbles. It was somehow made of clean yet untidy scribbles. There was a large circle surrounding a large head that had long, spindly tendrils, leaving a cavernous mouth. The thing had slits for eyes, and there was a gleam to the flesh of the beast. It was like a halo over it, and Mark couldn’t help but admire the drawing. 

Then, he turned the page to find another one. He was suspicious, but the drawings were aged and marked with a date from several years ago. This drawing had a clearer face image, showing the tall, slimy forehead. The slits for eyes were open, bulbous, and consumed with black charcoal. The tendrils leaked down the paper like Y/n had switched to paint halfway through.

After that sketch, it returned to an image of a mountain waterfall.

“…Huh. So you’re telling me you saw this shit coming too?”

“Hardly. I thought they were nothing but recurring dreams until now.”

“Well, let me get some food. I think there’s a spare sleeping bag in the back, too.”

Mark rose and weaved around Y/n. Y/n remained still, grabbing their notebook back and getting lost in thought.

They thought about how long they would be able to stay, especially in the company of Mark. Another person meant the distribution of resources, but Mark could also see and shoot. Y/n figured their thoughts were selfish, but the world would probably be much prettier without fellow humans polluting it. Yn didn’t care much bout life, but cared enough that they refused to commit suicide. Y/n wondered if their father was alive —

Y/n heard a door open and assumed Mark was returning. Mark returned with a box of Frosted Flakes and a rolled-up, far newer sleeping bag. 

A sense of safety and exhaustion reached Y/n as they silently munched on Frosted Flakes. The taste was slightly stale, and despite their typical pickiness, there was a sense of comfort. They came to terms calmly with the fact that the apocalypse was upon them. That meant that stale cereal, a warm sleeping bag, and a man with a gun weren’t the worst things in the world at that moment.

“You sure you aren’t possessed?” Mark yawned, perking up and cradling his pistol.

“He said ‘they’’ wanted to give me my eyes back. To give me true sight. The ma worshipped me as a god,” Y/n recalled with a pause. “I wish I was possessed because whatever they are seeing… it must be incredible.”

~~~

Y/n was awoken from a deep, terrifying slumber with animated shaking. “Wake the fuck up!” Mark bellowed. “What are you seeing?”

Y/n scrambled, sleep in their eyes. Mark was on top of things, scrambling for their paint palette and notebook. Y/n felt at them. Some terrified tears escaped their eyes as they scribbled roughly on the notebook paper. Mark was silent and watched carefully as Y/n drew, their gaze staring up fearfully and unknowingly making direct eye contact with Mark.

Y/n suddenly dropped the paint brush and panted. “This. I saw this.”

Y/n handed the notebook over. Some time had passed; according to Mark, they had rationed well, and a week or so had passed. Trust had formed between the two of them. Sometimes, Y/n dreamt and they drew. But based on the violence in their head, Mark must have known something was especially wrong with this one. Y/n often woke up with the sun, according to Mark, but Y/n had the sense that the sun was not up yet.

“I… hope I drew it right. I saw many, many people. A mob. They were walking down a road, dazed and enchanted. They’ve seen it.”

Mak analyzed the work intensely. He was still amazed at his comrade's ability and figured it would be his demise. But at least it kept him on his toes. It made for conversation, too. 

The image depicted rocky, cold, and dying terrain with stale grass and swamplands in the distance. A few abandoned, rotting cars were on a large, spacious road, which was covered in oddly detailed figures. The mob was walking, dazed, just as Y/n had described. The mob was thick, and despite their harmless and dumb expressions, they yielded weapons — anything from crowbars to hammers to guns. 

“That’s Dale. My coworker,” Mark stated, pointing to one of the figures. “We worked at the same local construction company for a while.”

“Local?”

“Local.”

The realization dawned on the pair. Mark examined the road further. “That same road. It’s the main road leading into town.”

“Fuck.”

“Do you know what that means? Why are they coming here?” Mark inquired carefully, perturbed by the situation.

“They’re… coming for me, I think. It won’t take a genius to realize that I moved. Please, we have to go somewhere else —“

“Jesus, I get it. Let’s pack what we can. We can go out to back. And, Y/n, I want you to wear this blindfold. Just in case.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

The agent and the witch

Summary: All Marcus did was touch a bronze cat figurine after a new shipment of stolen art came in. He never thought a simple touch would make him travel back in time to meet his witchy soulmate.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. witch reader

Wordcount: 5.9k

Rating: M

Warnings: timetravel-magic-soulmate AU, confusion, fluff, a masquerade ball, my take on how magic works, some.... kissing, falling in love, more time travel

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Full Masterlist // Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus had the headache of headaches. His eyes were still closed and he groaned, loudly, before he slowly blinked his eyes open. The room he was in was dark and he turned his head, finding a single candle burning on the bedside table. 

Frowning, he tried to remember where he was and what happened. 

He went to work this morning.

They got a new shipment of artefacts from the middle of the 19th century that the lab was checking for their realness. 

Marcus remembered flirting with the cute new lab techie Kristin who was way too young for him, but hey he was just a man and some flirting should be allowed. 

He remembered her showing him a bronze figurine of a cat that she thought was adorable. Marcus remembered picking the figurine up and then. 

Nothing. 

“You’re awake. Good,” he jumped, his hands flying to where his weapon should be normally, sitting himself up to find a woman sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. 

He didn’t have his weapon on him. He remembered leaving it in his office. Shit. 

He blinked his eyes, not used to the darkness as the woman got up from the chair and walked towards him. She was wearing a long dark purple gown that reminded him of those princess movies his little sister had watched back when they were little. There was a small smile on her lips and she had beautiful green eyes. 

“Now you can tell me, where you stole my figurine?” she flicked her fingers towards him and held up the bronze cat with the other while Marcus headache seemed to work on making his head explode. He closed his eyes, only now noticing that he could not move anymore. Slightly panicking he tried to will his arms to move but it was like his body did not respond. 

“Fear not, I put your body on a sleeping spell, but your mind is still awake. Clearly. I might take the spell back once you start explaining,” the woman said and Marcus looked at her. 

“Spell?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

“Yes.”

He wanted to ask more questions but, the woman only raised her eyebrow as she waited for him to talk. 

“I… haven’t stolen anything. A whole load of stolen artefacts have been shipped to HQ this morning and the lab had been checking them to validate if they were real or not.”

The woman tilted her head. 

“Listen, I have no idea what happened after I touched the figurine but if you let me call my boss I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Your… boss?” the woman asked.

“Yes… I’m an FBI Agent and I work in art thefts.”

“FBI?” she asked, looking at him like he grew a second head, and Markus sighed. Nothing made sense. Not him waking up with this strange lady, not her telling him he was under a spell, nothing. 

“Federal bureau Intelligence?” he helped. The woman still looked at him as if he had grown a second head. 

He sighed. 

„My badge is in my suit jacket,“ he said, the woman still not reacting. It gave him some time to really look at her and at the room he was in. 

There was no real light source. No lamp on the ceiling, not even a lamp on the bedside table. There was a what looked like a Gaslamp next to the door the woman was standing. It was dark outside, which made the whole set up felt like straight out of a horror movie. The furniture was made out of what looked like heavy wood. 

But it was the woman that fascinated him most. 

Her hair was styled back in a sleep bun but some curls had fallen out of her hairdo. The dress she was wearing looked expensive. He was no expert in fabrics but it looked like it was silk.

And definitely not out of this century. 

Which left him to ask his next question:

„What…. What year is it?“ He asked and finally the woman took a step closer, the bronze cat still in her hands as she looked down at him with eyes full of interest. 

„It’s 1824,“ she said and Marcus lips parted in surprise. 

„Why?“ She asked.

Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle. A chuckle that turned into a full laugh the woman was less than appreciate of. 

„I’m so sorry. This must have been the best prank ever. Is my sister behind this?“ He asked.

„I have no clue what you are saying. Why did you want to know which year it was?“ She asked him, now standing right next to the bed, the heavy fabric of her dress swishing against the bed he was still lying on, unable to move. 

„Because it’s 2024,“ he said, still laughing. But the longer he laughed the more her face changed into one of concern, his laughter slowly dying.

He gulped. 

„This isn’t a prank, isn't it?“ He finally asked. 

The woman sighed. 

„I’m afraid not, Mr….“

„Pike. My name is Marcus Pike,“ he said and for the first time the hint of a smile came to the woman’s lips.

„Mr. Pike. I think you being here is a spell gone massively wrong. This never happened before. I used the same spell for everything, how could it have gone so wrong?“ She asked herself and Marcus cleared his throat, her eyes snapping back to look at him. 

„Spell? Like… magic?“ He asked, still more than confused. 

„Yes,“ she nodded.

„So you’re a….“

„I’m a witch. Yes.“

When Marcus woke up the next morning, reaching for his phone and not finding it, for a small moment, he forgot that he… time traveled?

But once consciousness took over he sat himself up with a start looking around. 

He seemed to be in the same room he was in yesterday, but now the sun shone through the big windows. The walls were painted in a deep rich red, the furniture equally held in dark colours like he remembered from the night before. 

He took a deep breath, sighing when he exhaled. Rubbing his hand over his eyes he swung his legs out of the bed, noticing he was still wearing his suit from the day before. Well… The day before 200 years in the future.

He still could not wrap his mind around having time traveled. And there still was a part of him that thought this was all just a big joke. 

Stretching his muscles he slowly walked towards the window, lips parting in awe when he took in the busy street in front of the house. 

People were dressed similar to the woman he met yesterday. The women wearing long gowns, the men dressed in posh suits and each one wearing a hat. There were carriages pulled by horses driving on the street.

When he further looked around there was a lack of all things that were normal to him. 

No cars, no street vendors, no street lamps, no skyscrapers.

He startles when there was a knock on the door behind him, the door opening shortly after and in walked the woman, the… witch he met yesterday. 

„Good Morning Mr. Pike,“ she said with a small smile, carrying various items in her arms she set down on his bed. 

„Good Morning Mrs…“ he said and she huffed a laugh.

„I am not married,“ she said as she turned back towards him with a small smile. She told him her name.

„But I am only called Peach around here. There’s a big peach tree garden behind this house that I open for the city free of charge,“ she explained and Marcus found himself smiling at her. 

They stared at each other for a moment before Peach seemed to blink herself out of her trance.

„I unfortunately have not figured out yet, what went wrong with my spell. So I am afraid you will be stuck here until I can figure out a way to send you back, Mr. Pike,“ she said, walking over to his bed. 

„Please call me Marcus,“ he said and she hummed.

„Well, Marcus. You might be a man from the future, but we can’t let people know that. So I grabbed some old clothing from my brother who is currently out of state,“ she explained. 

Marcus stepped next to her, looking over the clothing she had spread over the bed. 

„I think you and him have the same stature, so the clothes should fit,“ she said and Marcus nodded. 

„I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, some of which I will not be able to answer, but I’ll try. If you like you can join me for breakfast on the patio once you dressed?“ Peach asked and he agreed.

„I am a little overwhelmed if I am honest. I hope a cup of coffee can fix that,“ he hummed.

„Oh you’re in luck. We received a bag of coffee beans just last week. I will ask the cook to prepare some. Personally I am not too keen on it. It’s too bitter for me,“ she smiled and Marcus could not look away from her captivating smile. 

„Anyway. I will leave you be. Once you dressed just come down the stairs and go to your right. You should see the sitting room with the patio right outside right away,“ she nodded with a warm smile and Marcus mirrored her. 

„Thank you,“ he said just before she exited his room. 

„You are in this situation because of me, Marcus. It’s the least I can do.“

A week went buy and Marcus was slowly getting used to his new normal in the year 1824. If he was honest with himself he quite enjoyed not having to get into work every morning at the crack of dawn to work for 12 hours only to get some shitty take out on his way home and pass out in front of the TV. 

Instead he could sleep in and just dream into the day. 

Only yesterday Peach had took him on a walk around the capitol. He was fascinated how different yet familiar everything looked. And it was interesting how quickly he got used to the lack of noise in this century. 

There were no cars, no planes. Yes there was some screaming now and then, but nothing compared to the hum of the city he had gotten used without even noticing it before. 

The air was fresher and the people were kinder. 

He had started strolling though the neighbourhood twice a day after Peach had walked around with him the first two days. But he quickly learned that she was a busy woman. 

She was a valued member of the community and even though there were people, mostly men, around who did not take well to a unmarried woman being in charge of an estate, let alone a family business, her success spoke for herself. 

She was also fascinating, intelligent, had a killer sense of humour and one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. More than once he caught himself watching her as she read through her spell book, searching for something that would get Marcus back home. 

And she was doing all that while also planing a giant masquerade ball for Halloween which would happen in the next week.

He knew by now that once she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and slightly aggressively brushing over her cat’s Lucius fur meant that she was getting frustrated. He learned to get her her favourite tea from the kitchen would calm her down and give him one of those small smiles and a squeeze of his hand as thanks that he was sure by now she knew made him blush. 

Of course, only he could accidentally travel back in time by touching a bronze cat, only to fall for the witch who put the spell on said bronze cat. 

„I have a theory,“ she said, exactly a week after Marcus had appeared in her house. 

It was night, Marcus sitting in an armchair opposite the fire place, her second cat Lucky in his lap, purring affectionately as he brushed over her head. He was reading a book, a glass of scotch waiting on the little table next to him. 

Peach was sitting in the armchair next to him, new spell book and another much older looking book in her lap. She was cuddled under a thick fur blanket, Lucius squeezed next to the books in her lap, the black cat only rarely leaving her side.

She was wearing his reading glasses, something she was almost giddy about once he told her what they were as he found them in his suit pocket, the dark thick frames sitting on the tip of her nose. 

„You have?“ He asked and she turned her head to look at him. She was pursing her lips and he found himself wanting to close the distance between them to kiss her plush lips. He took a deep breath, willing these thoughts away. 

„Yes,“ she nodded, sucking her bottom lip in. 

„Are you gonna… tell me about it?“ He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She loved and hated when Marcus looked at her like that. 

Marcus Pike plopped into her life exactly a week ago, and it was like a switch had flipped inside her head she did not know had existed before. 

And when he looked at her like that, his big brown eyes giving her his full attention, more than once she found herself forgetting whatever she was about to say. 

How could it be that no man from her time had held her under his spell as much as Marcus Pike from two hundred years in the future did?

It was like something clicked into place ever since he got here, and she found herself getting less interested in finding a away to send him back into his time. Which was not fair to him, but if she only thought about not seeing him ever again the sadness that took over her made it almost difficult for her to breathe. 

And as he looked at her now, sitting in the armchair next to her, Lucky, her cat that had never let anyone but her touch her until Marcus arrived as she sat in his lap, she again found herself forgetting the words she was about to say. 

She blinked at him, trying shake herself out of his spell, suddenly nervous about the theory she was about to tell him. 

„There is a…. Story about a witch who used the same spell I did on the same figurine. It brought her back the figurine and a man, she wrote was from sixty years in the future.“

„When did that happen?“ Marcus asked, leaning in closer. 

„About a hundred years ago. This spell book is from the mother of one witch from my coven,“ she explained. Marcus nodded. 

„Did she find out why it happened?“ He asked. 

Rubbing her tongue over her teeth, she took a deep breath. 

„Can you show me your left elbow?“ She asked. He frowned.

„Please?“ She added with pleading eyes and he looked at her for a moment more before he nodded. She watched him as he carefully set his book down and pulled the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing up and over his elbow. 

He breath stuttered when she saw the purple scar right above his elbow, the one she got after burning herself when she was just fifteen years old and experimenting with some potions. 

„Marcus…“ she whispered. He was looking at his elbow too, frowning. 

„I… didn’t have this before. What does this mean?“

Instead of answering him she to pulled at the sleeve of the dress she was wearing, showing him the matching scar. 

„It is said in these books, that witches that were born during a full moon on St. Hallows eve have the blessing of soulmates,“ she explained quietly. Looking up at him she found Marcus watching her, listening. 

„It is said that they have the power, knowingly or not, to summon their soulmate. Their one true mate.The universe will chose and find a way to bring them to the witch before her thirtieth birthday,“ she whispered. 

Peach saw Marcus process the words.

„The soulmates share every scar on each others body,“ she continued and Marcus gulped.

„Could you…“ he started before he cleared his throat. 

„I have a scar on my right hip from when I was shot…“ he began and her eyes widened.

„You were shot?“ She asked alarmed.

„Comes with the line of work,“ he shrugged. 

„Did it hurt?“

„Like hell,“ he chuckled and she released a shuddering breath. 

They looked at each others hands for a while. 

„I also have a scar on my leg ankle. Had to get surgery when I was little,“ he said after a while. Taking a deep breath she nodded, before she pulled her left leg up and pulled her dress up. She felt her cheeks warming as she pulled at her stockings. She had never undressed in front of a man like this and she was thankful when she noticed Marcus adverting his eyes. 

She stared at her ankle for a moment, her fingertips brushing over the scar she did not have a week ago. 

„Marcus,“ she whispered in awe and he turned his head to follow her sight. She jumped when she felt his hand on her ankle, his fingers brushing over the scar. 

When she looked up she found Marcus already looking at her and tears filled her eyes. His expression changed to concern as the first tears rolled down her cheek. 

„I did this,“ she whispered. 

„I pulled you from your time, your life, your family. It’s my fault you’re here. I’m so sorry, Marcus,“ she sobbed and she didn’t realise he had gotten up to hug her until she felt the warmth of his chest against her cheek. 

He soothed her, rubbing his hand over her back. 

„Peach,“ he whispered and she shakily breathed out. 

„You may have pulled me from my time, but you did not pull me away from my life,“ he said, chin resting on top of her head. Hesitantly she put her arms around him, her heartbeat slowing down. 

„My life only consisted of work. The only thing I might miss is my sister and her children. But apart from that? There is nothing for me there,“ he explained. 

„That sounds like you already made plans to stay,“ she whispered. 

„Is there even a way to go back?“ He asked. She pulled away from him so she could look at him. 

„There is. I would have to do it before my birthday. It’s a potion you take on the morning of St. Hallows eve that bring you back once the full moon has risen,“ she explained and he nodded. 

„So we have time,“ he said and she frowned. 

„Time for what?“

The smile he gave her made her knees weak.

„To get to know each other. To… to make a decision.“

„You really thinking about staying?“ She asked.

„I have been thinking about it for the last two days already,“ he smiled sheepishly and she found herself smiling at him. 

„I have also been thinking about kissing you,“ he added and her eyes widened. 

„You have?“ She asked and he nodded. Peach sucked her bottom lip in. 

„I have been thinking about many things. But kissing is the most innocent one,“ he said with a mischievous smile and her lips parted. 

She felt hot all of the sudden. 

„Marcus…. I have never…. I am not…..“

„Hey. It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to be honest.“

„I do want to do something though,“ she whispered. 

„What do you want to do?“ He asked and she tilted her head up, looking into his eyes. 

„Kiss you,“ she whispered so quiet he wouldn’t have heard her if he hadn’t been already leaning in, lips so close to hers, he could feel her warmth. 

He smiled at her. 

„Now?“ He whispered. She nodded. 

„Now,“ she repeated. 

Marcus brushed his nose over hers, breathing her in before he slowly closed the distance between them and kissed her softly.

„What is it like in your time?“ Peach asked a couple days later. Both Marcus and her were lying under one of the Peach trees, enjoying the sunny day. She was lying with her head on Marcus’ chest, his arm wrapped securely around her, keeping her close. 

Since they had kissed for the first time, many have followed. 

She couldn’t go long without having him close, the planning of the Masquerade ball having been done with a great input of Marcus due to the fact that she just couldn’t bring herself to part from him. 

People had began to talk. Of course they did. 

Even though she was a great help and valued member of the community, there were still people whispering behind her back, calling her a mad spinster. 

Well, technically she was one. Is one. 

She had never been with a man, having been happy with her life as it was. But ever since Marcus came into her life, she began to ask herself if maybe there was a way to be even happier. 

Which brought her to her question about his time and how it was. 

She couldn’t imagine what the future was like.

But the letter she had received from her brother was concerning. He had been traveling for a while, and reported of the rise of the witch trials and the burning of witches. 

He was concerned for her and frankly, she were starting to be too.

She had noticed the whispers too, her coven spreading awareness, asking everyone to be even more cautious. 

„What do you want to know?“ Marcus asked, grabbing her hand, his fingers beginning to play with her fingers. 

Peach hummed, trying to think what exactly she wanted to know. 

„You said you worked as an… Agent?“ She asked, feeling him nod. 

„Yes. I am an FBI Agent. They are sort of a police, if I had to describe it. There are different sorts of police formed for different crimes. I work in art theft. Which means if a important piece of art, such as a painting or let’s say a bronze cat figurine get stolen, I get called to find out what happened,“ he explained. 

„Is this a dangerous kind of work?“

„Not really.“

„You did get shot though,“ she said, turning her head so she could look at him. He hummed, his finger wrapping around hers, holding her hand. 

„That was a…. Very unique situation that will never happen again,“ he said. Peach kept looking at him before she slowly nodded. 

„Where do you live?“

„At the moment in a small apartment that I pay way too much for,“ he chuckled, making her frown. 

„Rent is very expensive, but I do have my eyes on a house not to far from here actually. I looked at it a month ago and put in an offer.“

„I hope you get it,“ she said and he smiled at her. 

„Why do you ask?“

„I… might have not told you everything about the soulmate situation,“ she said and Marcus raised one of his eyebrows in question. 

„The summoned soulmate can go home, like I said. But the only time they can go home is before the thirtieth birthday of the witch who summoned them ends. If they stay beyond that day there is no going back,“ she explained. 

„The potion I brew this morning, while you were reading in the study can send you back into your time,“ she continued and Marcus squeezed her hand. 

„However the soulmates witch can also chose to go with them if she takes the potion too,“ Peach said quietly, and Marcus stilled beneath her before he sat himself up, pulling her with him. She was looking at him as he took her other hand. 

„You would go with me? Leave all of this?“ He asked, brows furrowed. 

„Would you stay here? Leave your whole life in the future that sounds like it has so many advantages compared to this time?“ She asked. 

„I would stay if it meant I could stay with you,“ he said sincerely and she found herself leaning in to kiss him softly. 

„And I would go with you if it meant I could stay with you,“ she mumbled against his lips. 

„But you don’t know what you would be getting into. I know both sides. I know what I would give up by staying here with you. Yes there are certain things, like indoor pluming I would miss, but I would have you. I could… I could grow old with you. Here. In this beautiful place. We could get married. Have children if you want them. You could teach me witchy things,“ he grinned and she giggled before her face got serious. 

„I might be in danger if I stay here. Witch trials are on the rise and my brother wrote about having heard of witch burnings on his travels. I don’t know if we could have all you dreamed of, if we stayed here,“ she mumbled. Marcus hand came to touch her cheek, his eyes focused on hers, his face serious. 

„I read about the witch trials once. I don’t think I would have a way to protect you,“ he sighed and she smiled sadly. 

„So tell me everything you could think of from your time. So I am as prepared as I could be if you would accept me to join you,“ she said.

He kissed her instead, pulling her close against his chest. 

„I would be honoured to have you with me, sweetheart,“ he whispered against her lips, before he began to tell her about his future. 

It was the night before St. Hallows eve.

Her brother had returned home earlier that day and once he had met Marcus, it seemed like he knew she was about to leave. Peach had a long talk with him after lunch, walking with him through the gardens, explaining everything. 

It would hurt her to leave her brother behind, but he told her he would be happy letting her go into a future where she could live with her soulmate, instead of having to be scared to lose her to the witch trials and their fanatics. 

It also meant he had to stop his travels, and finally settle down to take over the family business. But as he told her with a shy smile about a girl he met on his travels who was supposed to visit with her family in the following weeks, Peach felt better about leaving. 

After dinner her brother, Marcus and Peach took a nightcap, checking if everything was ready for the big ball the next day. Peach had made some costumes for the both of them, giving it to them before saying good night, retiring to her chambers. 

As she sat in the middle of her bed for what would probably the last night in her home, her century, she tried to think about what to take with her. She knew from Marcus that not everything he had on him made it to the past, to her. She could only hope that her spell book that she would put in her pocket would make it with her. 

She also had instructed her brother that, if possible, the should store some of her trinkets and things at a secure space at the local bank. She didn’t know if it would wait for two hundred years for her, but she wanted to try. 

She was about to blow out her candle to go to sleep when there was a knock on her door.

Knowing there was only one person who would seek her out so late, she called for them to enter, smiling when Marcus walked in, closing the door behind him. 

„What brings you to this side of the house on this late hour, dear sir?“ She asked teasingly. He slowly walked over to her, stopping in front of her bed. 

„I missed you,“ he just said and her heart stopped, before it beat twice the speed again. He was dressed in a long white night gown, something he was not used to, as he told her, telling her that he usually slept naked, making her flush with warmth. 

Nibbling on her bottom lip she looked up at him.

„Would you like to spend the night with me, Marcus?“ She asked. He exhaled audibly, his eyes closing. 

„That was not my intention. But I have to admit I would love to,“ he said warmly. 

„What was your intention then?“ She asked.

„A good night kiss,“ he said and she could his cheek blushing slightly. 

„I already gave you three,“ she teased and he chuckled, before he pulled back the covers of her bed, slipping under neath them. He turned to her, his face almost touching her. 

His arm came to carefully rest on her hip over the blanket. 

„I will never have enough of you, sweet love,“ he whispered and she smiled, butterflies in her belly as she closed the distance between them, kissing him softly. 

The kisses quickly turned passionate, tongues playing with each other, hands exploring each others body. It was when Marcus leg slipped between her legs and she instinctly moved her hips, her breath stuttering against his lips that he stopped. Painting for air as he rested his forehead against hers.

„We should stop,“ he whispered.

„What if I don’t want to stop?“ She whispered back and he groaned. She could feel his manhood hard against her belly and she had read just enough to know what to do to make him feel good. 

Slowly she let her hand slip underneath the blanket, her finger finding his hard length, giving it a small squeeze. He moaned her name and she had never felt so powerful.

„While I want nothing more than to fuck your little pussy,“ she gasped at hearing those words, „I would prefer we wait until we are in my time. I don’t think I could stop myself from coming inside of you and while I love the idea of babies, we should wait at least a little to work on them,“ he said and she parted her lips in a small O. 

„There are ways in the future that prevent pregnancies?“ she asked, fascinated. 

„Several,“ he nodded, before kissing her again. 

„There are however certain other ways to explore each other without going the full way,“ he continued, slowly kissing down her neck. 

„Oh?“ She asked. 

„Would you like to let me show you?“ He kissed down to her collarbone, pulling at her nightgown, looking up at her with dark eyes. 

„Yes please,“ she gasped, her eyes slipping close as his lips kissed down her body. 

The masquerade ball was in full swing once Marcus and Peach entered the hall. Him dressed completely in black, the beautiful black velvet cloak she had let made for him, fitting him perfectly. His face was hidden behind a simple black mask. Yet she knew it would be him anywhere. 

She was wearing a deep green silk dress, with a mask that matched Marcus’.

After they…. Explored each others bodies until the early morning hours, they had woken up in each others arms, spending the whole morning in bed with Marcus wishing her a happy birthday in all ways he could think of.The both had drank the potion before having breakfast, sealing their decision with a kiss before they left her chambers to help with the last preparation for the ball. 

Yet when the time came, Marcus seemed to be easily distracted from the dress she was wearing. His fingers seemingly finding their way underneath it and inside of her, making her sing his name while the whole house was already filled with guests, leaving her being late to her own ball. 

Now they were dancing.

They were laughing and she couldn’t remember ever being that happy. 

It was a quarter to midnight when they made their way outside, drinking the second part of the potion she had made, sealing it yet again with a kiss. 

Her bother was waiting with them, away from all the guests. 

They said their goodbyes, her crying a little at the thought of never seeing him again. 

„Be happy,“ he whispered, before he kissed her forehead.

Marcus and him also said their goodbyes, her brother whispering something to Marcus to which he nodded, before Marcus joined her back, taking her hand. 

„Do you know what happens next?“ Her brother asked, to which she shook her head. 

She looked at Marcus as the church bell began to ring and he kissed her with a smile. 

And then. 

They were gone.

One year later

„Careful,“ Marcus stopped Peach as she was carrying another huge pumpkin. He rushed over to her while she rolled her eyes affectionately. He took the pumpkin from her, carrying it to the house. When he came back he pulled her against him, or as much as the belly between them let him, kissing her nose. 

„You are not allowed to carry anything heavy, doctors orders,“ he reminded her and she sighed, dramatic. Looking down she felt her black cat, Lucius the second, slip by her legs before he walked outside to where Marcus had left the door open. 

„It wasn’t that heavy,“ she pouted and he sighed, kissing her pout away. 

„When is the coven coming?“ He asked. 

„In about twenty minutes,“ she mumbled, jumping in the next moment when the dishwasher began to sing its little melody to inform them it was finished. 

She still was getting used to the future.

Both Marcus and her had been more than surprised when she did not only find her trinkets and things she had asked her brother to put in the back safe, but a significant amount of money and estates in her name. 

Which is why they were now living on a small farm close to Marcus’ sister who, much to Marcus’s surprise, was a witch too. 

„So we have enough time for some…“ he kissed down her neck making her sigh. 

„You know twenty minutes is nothing enough, my love,“ she hummed making him sigh. 

„Later?“ He asked. 

„Later,“ she nodded, kissing him. They enjoyed each others embrace when they both felt a kick from her stomach, both chuckling. Marcus hand slipped onto her belly, another kick following. She put her hand on top of his, the ring he had put on her finger only last week at a small ceremony in their garden, sparkling in the light. 

Even though the future came with an overwhelming amount of new things they learned that contraceptives weren’t as reliable as Marcus thought.

Their little one was due in four months.

„I love you,“ she said and the smile he gave her was almost blinding. 

„I love you more,“ he hummed. 

„In every century?“ She asked and he chuckled. 

„In each and every one you find me,“ he smiled against her lips as he leaned down to kiss her. 

[junespriince]

The only schedule posts because I wasn't informed about this trip and thus couldn't plan my shit wtf, so ration this out y'all, see you soon!

Oldy, the spray bottle Batfam with a bonus let's go

Tim, packing he is bags:

Dick: ah, going on a trip with your boyfriend?

Tim: no, we're doing too well so I know he's gonna break up with me soon, so planned ahead I'm going to a remote cabin in the mountains and prepare for this mentality and also to have comebacks if it gets messy.

Dick:

Tim: please don't get the- *spray with water* ack!

Dick: how do you have Bruce level trouble with relationships, and how do you even know Bernard wants to break up with you!? *Sprays him again* put your stuff back, where's Steph?

Steph: I heard, I'm here, I need my spleenless model anyways.

Dick: good, keep him.

---

Bruce: but... Bludhaven needed their Nightwing...

Dick, spray him: I agree they needed a Nightwing, not a walking therapy bill!

---

Jason: I swear to god Almighty I will take you out like your momma should have of you wet my hair.

Dick:

Jason: I'm warning you dickface.

Dick:

Jason: Dick, I'm not joking—

Dick, spray him: worth it.

Jason: I hate you.

---

Cass: I need the bottle, some have forgotten to fear me.

Dick, hands it over: go wild sis.

---

Duke: water can't be that effective.

Dick: it is, watch, Jason bed.

Jason, digging through the pantry: I'm 21yo, I don't gotta shit— ack! Hey!

Dick, holding the bottle like a gun: make my day, sunshine.

Jason, grumbling: fine, fine I'm going to bed, jackass.

Dick: see, it works wonders.

---

Dick: dami, kiddo, why don't you go outside and play with Jon or Titus?

Damian: tt, I'm working on this charcoal study, I'll go outside tomorrow.

Dick, spray him but missing his art: outside, now, get some sunlight and fresh air.

Damian: fine, tt

Dick: that's great kid, now be home soon love you!

---

Dick: there's no other way, I may die but it have to save the world.

Wally, spray him: the hell you do!

Kori, taking the bottle to spray him: get your pretty ass back in to the ship, we can do this without dying, babydoll.