#jess crafting dead

[aceyillustrations]

I FORGOT I HAD A TUMBLR OOPS- New aphmau fanart for the new year, but it's "Jess" from the Crafting Dead !! I got inspired from a screenshot taken by @/aarmauer over on twt :>

[isabeauwolf]

Trafalgar Law x Pregnant reader

Chapter 2 - Somebody call a doctor?

"Could you be my doctor?" Jess snickers over the phone. She called you as soon as she got home. "Really Y/n?" She cackled even harder. "Girl, you want Dr Grumpy to be more than your person doctor." Pausing for dramatic effect and adding, "You want his daily dose of vitamin D sooo bad."

You knew she had that smug assed grin on her face as you rubbed your forehead. You knew she was right which made you even more flustered and embarrassed. "I know, I know, Jess." You groaned, "I wasn't thinking and it slipped out."

"You are way too cute for your own good." She commented. "You do know that right?"

"So I've been told." You muttered, laying down on your bed and hugging your snow leopard Build-a-Bear. It was an impulse buy you bought yourself for Christmas. It reminded you of Law every time you saw it and held it, wishing it was him.

"Do you need me to go with you to get your first ultrasound?" Jess asked, pulling out her pajamas from her closet

"Nah, be fine." You replied. "Plus Law will be with me."

"Let me know," Jess pressed. "Max considers you family." Max was Jess' big brother and owner of the coffee shop. The pair of siblings thought of you as their own baby sister, even if Jess was a year younger than you.

"Yeah, I know." You smile, "Thanks." You roll onto your side, facing the door.

You hear the tiny pitter patter of tiny feet running through the house and jingle coming towards you as Onigiri comes rushing into your room like a tiny rocket.

You laugh. "Somebody's missed me." You pat the spot beside your bed. "Hey baby, c'mere."

Onigiri. The tiny puppy with pure white fur and a huge black shaped triangle on his head, reminding you of rice balls.

And somehow of Law.

He runs around in a circle and jumps into your bed, barking and nuzzles into your side. Panting as his tail wags.

"I missed you too, my little cutie." You coo gently, petting him as he crawls underneath your blanket and cuddles against your belly.

Well, guess that explains why Onigiri seems glued to your side lately. Animals have a sixth sense of these things or so you've heard.

"Awe, lemme see, lemme see." Jess gushes into your ear, using her baby voice.

"Hold on, hold on." You turn on the camera to face yourself and angle your phone down so Jess can see the picture perfect sight. "There. Can you see him?"

Jess squealed, taking screenshots. "Looks like Dr Love's got some real competition for your love Y/n." She teases, grinning wide. "Onigiri and your mini me. Talk about a handful." Tilting her head, "Hope Doc isn't the jealous type."

"Why do you like to tease the poor man so much?" You ask, laying back down and petting Onigiri. "Are you sure you don't have a bully crush on Law?" You knew she didn't but you had to tease her back, biting your lip to stay composed.

It didn't work, you snorted as Jess grew defensive. Gawking at you and grimacing as if you just drop kicked her grandmother.

"What?! Hell no. Mister tall dark and emo drug lord ain't my type." Jess makes fake gagging noises, which causes you to giggle louder. "Besides, I like'em big and dumb."

"Bepo isn't Law's second in command for nothing you know." You pointed out, laying your head underneath the crook of your arm.

"Oh, you know what I mean " Jess waves you off. "He's so sweet, adorable and knows material arts, loyal, really, really tall." She sighs dreamily, falling into her bed. "Blonde hair, blue eyes... so shy."

"God help that poor, poor man." You give her a dramatic sigh and make the sign of the cross over your heart, "Corrupting poor Bepo's innocence and cuteness with your overly horny witch craft and voodoo magic. Jess for shame."

"Oh hell yes, I would!" Jess fires back. "Don't you judge me after pinning for drop dead gorgeous Dr Heart Stealer Y/n." She points her finger at you, setting her phone into her bed and pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her in her cute purple lacy bra. "I would bet two hundred beri's.. no five hundred that you've had as many sinful, dirty thoughts and wet dreams for Law as I've had for my bear man."

You grew heated. "Fair enough." You couldn't deny it.

"I'll take your silence as a yes." Jess countered in a single song voice, slipping into an adult panda man onesie and fell back into her pile of panda and polar bear stuffed animals. "I'm home my babies." She scoops an armful and cuddles them, smiling wide.

You were honestly thinking you both had a taste in odd men.

Then again, being stuck in the winter island all your lives does make the world feel smaller.

"Alright, I'm going to bed." You yawn, rubbing your eyes and turn your lamp off on your nightstand.

"Night night, love ya." Jess blows you a kiss. "Give me the details tomorrow sexy mama."

You laugh, smiling. "Night, Jess."

You both hung up.

You peaked underneath you blanket to find Onigiri fast asleep, "Night, Onigiri." You whisper softly and layed back down, hugging your snow leopard closer to your chest as you unlocked your phone, thumb hovering over Law's name.

You knew you'd see him tomorrow, and yet, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Seriously, why did you ask your crush to become your doctor? Were you that desperate? At least, he didn't flat out call you an idiot to your face when you gave him a heart attack this evening.

Law's question rang through your mind.

Are you going to put the baby up for adoption?

Sure, it would be the responsible and logical thing to do. You didn't make enough to have a baby right now. You were barely scrapping by as it is. You did have some saving saved up for a rainy day. You had heard of couples try to conceive for years and were unable to, waiting for a miracle that never came. It would feel nice to help someone like that, but the real question was: Could you?

You were honestly surprised Law would agree to seeing you so easily. Surely, he was busy and had enough on his plate as it is.

You felt your lips curl upward.

Maybe the stoic, ice cold and straight laced doctor had a kind heart?

Taking a deep breath you decided to message Law first, nicknaming him "Snow Leopard" in your phone.

You: Good evening Law, thank you for talking with me tonight. I appreciate it. I'm going to bed now. I'll see you in the morning. Good night. :)

Three dots appeared when he messaged you back.

Snow Leopard: It was no problem at all, Y/n-ya. I was the one who offered in the first place. I am glad that you felt you could confide in me.

Good night and sleep well.

Your smile brightened as you set your phone down on the nightstand. "Good night, Law." You closed your eyes as your heart fluttered in your chest and went to sleep.

On the other side, Law sat down in his reading chair after taking off his reading glasses and the book he was reading, sitting in his lap. His phone in hand as he sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his palm.

He frowned look down at the message you sent. The pregnancy test you showed him was positive, but you still needed to be seen for a medical checking up and ultrasound. If you wanted him to be your primarily care doctor, he'd do it. He'd support you, offer medical advice, anything within his power and knowledge to help you.

Law set his glasses on the coffee table, put a bookmark in the book as he was reviewing and revising any material he had on pregnancy, labor and child birth on his selves.

He'd seem you around kids. You were always so kind, offering other pregnant woman a helping hand to the door or to watch their little ones while their mothers had to use the restroom or take a call.

He knew you would make a great mother someday.

He didn't expect for it to happen so soon and with someone else, even a one night stand. The tiny, microscopic percentage that you would get pregnant while using both forms of birth control wasn't unheard of, but the odds were their.

He wasn't aware that you were looking for a casual partner or hookup. He might have offered, if he'd known. Then again, he didn't ask and you hadn't brought it up.

Out of all the men on who came passing through this winter island, it had to be Ace. Luffy's big brother.

Law had Luffy's number, knew it wasn't his place to inform the man that you were pregnant, it would be immoral and against doctor and patient confidentiality.

A tiny part of him hoped you didn't have any lingering feeling for the man.

The more he thought about it, the more his feelings he'd bottled up were festering. Jealousy, heartache and longing, to name a few.

Law never wanted you to think he was using his medical practice to coax you into anything you didn't want to do. Or for selfish reasons.

Setting the medical book down on top of the books he had littered and spread outs onto the coffee table. He glanced at it and decided to leave them and would pick everything up in the morning. He stretched and stood to his feet, turned the light off and figured he needed to shower and go to bed.

Law layed in bed, in the dark and stared at the ceiling. His hands tightened around the blanket, then relaxed. It felt dumb to be nervous about tomorrow, he's seen hundreds of patients, so why should tomorrow be any different? Scratch that. He knew why. It was you coming into his office, his new patient.

He scowled at the darkness, rolling onto his side, layed his arm underneath his pillow and slowly took in a deep breath and huffed it through his nose. Reaching for his phone, turning his head as to not blind himself when the screen lit up, glancing down at his lock screen of him and his adoptive father, Rosinante when Law graduated from medical school. Law felt himself smile as he unlocked it with the swipe of his thumb, oops, he forgot to close the text message with you.

He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassed as he backed out and returned to the home screen showing a picture of him, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and Ikkaku during his uncle Doflamingo's annual Christmas present that Rosinante had taken last year.

Now, that he thought about it. It wasn't long after that he'd met you that night.

He had to rush back to the hospital for an emergency surgery on a patient, after working hours until the patient was stable Law had decided to grab a cup of coffee on the way home. He'd been exhausted, irritable after no sleep, he wasn't looking his best, if he was being honest.

Law had decided to walk down to the local coffee shop since the line in front of the hospital Moonbucks was jam packed and he didn't want to wait. So he went down the street, it was busy but quiet which surprised him. He noticed Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were waiting in line as well, then he remembered they'd mentioned the coffee shop had better service and a more cozy atmosphere. Something about the waitresses were cute and the owner was friendly.

Law didn't really care as long as the coffee wasn't too overpriced or tasted decent, or worse, tasted like watered down bean water. He didn't realize he'd been scowling until a feminine voice called his attention, making him return to reality.

"Long night, I take it?" You smile at him, tablet in hand, waiting patiently. Your hair was in a braid with tiny golden Christmas bells woven into it and you wore a black, blue and white sweater with polar bears wearing scarfs on them. "What can I get you?" You repeat gently.

Law's eyes widened, feeling his heart skip a beat and thud hard into his chest. Inwardly shaking himself and cleared his throat. "Medium dark roast, double shot espresso and cream, please." He felt his skin warm as he pulled out his wallet.

You type out his order, repeat it as he inserts his card. "Will that be all for today, doctor?"

Law's silver gaze met your own. "How did you know?"

Your smile widened, eyes lowering as you giggled. "You're still in uniform doctor."

What? No, he wasn't... Oh. Law glanced down at himself, he was so tired, he forgot to take off his surgical scrubs. Well, that's embarrassing. Thank God, he wasn't covered in blood. The surgeon felt his face grow redder as he covered his eyes with his spotted hat. "Oh, you're right." He muttered to himself, meeting your beautiful gems after typing in his pin and you handed him his receipt. "Thank you miss."

"Y/n." You correct, offering your hand. "Doctor?"

Law readjusted his hat, took your smaller hand in his own and shook it. "Trafalgar Law."

"That's a unique name Trafalgar." You tasted his name on your tongue, made him shudder. "I've never seen you around before. Are you new around here?"

"Law." He correct softly. "Trafalgar is my Last name." He didn't know why he felt the need to correct you, a stranger. He usually didn't care if anyone called him by his first or last name before.

You blushed as you lowered your hand. "Oh, I'm sorry." You cover your burning cheek, giving him a cute sheepish and apologetic smile. "I beg your pardon Law."

It felt right, hearing you call his name. He liked it.

"None taken, Y/n-ya." Law left his lips curl into a slight smirk causing your blush to deepen.

"Y/n-ya?" Your brows furrowed as you stared at him in curiosity. "Is that a strange habit of yours Law?" You lower your hand from your face and half turn, writing his name in a clear medium sized plastic cup. "Or is it how you usually greet people Law-ya?" You tease, eyes sparkling with a teasing lit.

Oh, you were spunky too?

Law's gaze flickered to your hand writing it was neat and cursive, pretty even. His smirk grew into something smug and playful, "Something like that." He commented returning his card into his wallet and back into the pocket of his coat.

"Thank you, Law. Your order will be right up." You fully turn, walking to the coffee machine to make his order.

His gaze lowered to your backside in those tight, stretch black leggings and black boots. He felt himself swallowing, mesmerized by the sway of your hips before he shook himself, raising a hand to scrub his jaw as he glanced away.

Well, he was awake, flustered and horny now. Great, just what he needed.

Law shuffles awkwardly towards the pick up counter, waiting and pulling out his phone to distract himself when he feels someone sling an arm over his shoulder.

"Rough morning, Captain?" Shachi asked smiling.

"Rough night." Law grunts. "Some dumbass decided to fist fight Akainu and play with fire last night while drunk."

"Wow, seriously? On Christmas?" Bepo asks, appearing on the other side of Law.

"Who's that crazy enough to face that tight assed marine?" Penguins asks.

Law sighed, shaking Shachi off and pinched the bridge of his nose with his middle and index finger. "Monkey D Luffy, Garps grandson."

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin all parroted in shock, eyes wide. "Monkey D Garp has a grandson?!"

"Yes, apparently he's got three troublesome grandsons and Luffy, or StrawHat is one of them." Law admitted. "I talked with him and StrawHats mother last night in the waiting room. A reckless, stubborn kid was pissed off about Akainu insulting his older brothers."

"Law?" You called.

Law opened his eyes, lowered his hand and met your smiling face.

"Your order is ready." You lower his coffee onto the counter and scoot it towards him. "Careful, it's hot." You warned gently.

"Well, hello again gorgeous." Penguin purred.

"Captain, I didn't know you were hitting on this cutie." Shachi asked, wiggling his brows, covering his mouth to whisper into Law's pierced ear. "Go, cap. Did you get her number?"

"No, I'm not." Law bit out, gritting his teeth. "And get off." He shrugged him off, stepping forward to pick up his drink. His face softened as he sighed, already feeling mentally drained. "Thank you, Y/n-ya."

"Your welcome, Law." You replied, smile widening as you waved goodbye. "Have a good day and hope to see you again soon."

Law'a lips curled as he plugged his phone onto the charger and layed it down beside him. It figures that it quickly became a habit for him to have coffee at Max's shop from then onward. He had to see you again, even if, he wouldn't admit it at the time. Whenever Law was stressed or down, he thought of you and your smiling face.

Closing his eyes as he whispered gently, "Night, Y/n."

---------

You arrived way too early. At seven in the morning. Folder in hand with all of your important paperwork and your purse as you walked into the hospital and towards the receptionist who greeted you with a practiced perfect smile.

"How many I help you?"

"Did Doctor Trafalgar Law schedule me an appointment for an ultrasound and blood work?" You asked, feelings your cheeks heat up. It would be super embarrassing, if he had forgotten.

She raised a brow. "I'll check." Her eyes returning to her computer, hands hovering over the keyboard. "Name?"

You give her your first and last name.

"Yes, Doctor Law has you scheduled in." She picked up a clip board and handed it to you. "Fill these out please and he'll call you shortly." Her gaze scanning you up and down.

Why do you feel as if she's low key judging you?

"Thank you." You smiled back, picked a seat and sat down. Opening your folder and wallet, writing down your information. You were on the last page when some walked through the door and called your name.

"Y/n L/n?"

You raised you head, smiling widening as you gathered your things and stood.

It was Bepo. The giant man was dress in bright orange scrubs.

"Bepo!" You walked towards him. You ignored the receptionist stare on your back. "It's great to see you."

Bepo leaned down and hugged you, gently. "Garchu, Y/n!" The giant blonde man nuzzled the top of your head in affection. "Law told me you would be here this morning, but he didn't say what for." He pulled away, frowning in worry. "Are you alright?"

You forgot that Bepo was a huger. "Garchu Bepo." You laughed, hugging him back. "I'm fine. Just need to run a few tests." Well, you weren't wrong.

"Don't be nervous." Bepo holds the door open for you and let you in first before leading the way with his own clip board in hand. "First we will do a standard physical and then Law will be with you shortly." Glancing down at the clipboard in your hand he smiled, "I'll take that for you when you are finished."

True to his word, Bepo took your height and weight, standard physical. Gave you a plastic cup with your name on it and asked you to use the bathroom across the hallway to pee in a cup.

It always felt awkward peeing in one of those tiny plastic cups. You were lightly haunted the one time you had to use one during a standard drug test and your were on your period. That was embarrassing as you had handed it to the guy with a huge blush on your face.

Shaking your head you took the cup, did your business, washed your hands and very carefully watched back to the nurses station to hand her the full cup.

She thanked you and took the sample with a gloved hand and put it in a ziplock bag.

You made a beeline towards the room you were in to finished your paperwork. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it!

You placed the clipboard onto the desk when you heard someone knock.

"Y/n-ya?" Law's voiced called behind the door. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Law you may." You giggle. You really couldn't help it. You walked back towards your seat.

Law opened the door and walked in, a brow raised. "Someone slept well, if you are think spunky in the morning."

You try to ignore how incredible-y hot Law looks in his glasses, lab coat and the stethoscope around his neck. Not to mention, the black button down he's wearing with a few of the buttons unbuttoned and his sleeves roll half up his arms. Jesus, did he not care about the hospital dress code?

You swallow, stealing a glance at his tattoos, not to mention the hint of muscle peaking though. Oh, how you wanted to trace the hidden pattern of ink with your fingers or tongue. Inwardly telling yourself to shut up you answered, "Something like that."

Closing the door behind him, Law went towards the sink to wash his hands, dry them and slip on a pair of latex gloves. "Other than yesterdays vomiting. Are you showing any other symptoms of pregnancy? Anything you can think of or might have missed?"

You hum, counting off your fingers. "My period being two weeks late, having to go to the bathroom more often, I have this weird craving for bbq and having cramps, but no period.... that's about it."

"Everything seems normal." He concluded, picking up your paperwork and skimming through it. "Do you remember what set off your nausea?"

"Yeah, pickles from Max's sandwich which sucks." You pout. "I love pickles."

Law glanced up and opened his mouth to say something when there was another knock on the door.

"Come in." Law answered without peaking over his shoulder.

"I'm coming to collect Y/n's paperwork and to give her this gown to change into." Bepo replied sheepishly, "Sorry." The poor man got easily discouraged and depressed.

"It's fine, Bepo." Law waved him off, handing him the clipboard, taking the blue dressing gown from Bepo and handing it off to you before he stood. "I'll let you change while I wait outside."

"Thank you again, Law." You smile causing the doctor to pause.

"Your welcome, Y/n-ya." Law gave a hint of smile then closed the door behind him.

You released the breath that you didn't know you were holding. Just think of this as a regular doctors visit, Y/n. Don't make it weird. Law's not here to be ogled and drooled after. You mentally scolded yourself, feeling yourself growing flustered. He's doing this job. Get those fantasies out of your head!

Ugh, why did Jess slip that stupid doctor romance novel into your email this morning?! You know she did it on purpose.

Didn't help that it had you hooked when you found out of the male lead was a grumpy doctor. Who had you immediately think of Dr Heart Stealer himself.

Holding your closed into the chair beside you on top of your folder and purse. You felt yourself shiver from the cold air in the room when you were completely naked, except for your fuzzy socks. You knew it would look stupid, but you knew the floor would be cold if you took them off. So you slipped on the hospital gown. Uh oh. How were you going to tie the back, if you can't see what your doing?

Okay, think about it as a bigger apron. That's all it is, yup... nope. Dammit.

You jumped as your heard another knock on the door. "Yes?" You sat down in your seat, on the white crinkly thin assed sheet of paper they always put on these seats. You knew it was for sanitary reasons, but you always hoped you never tore it.

"Y/n-ya? Are you decent?" Law asked.

"I.. uh.. I might need some help." You admitted, mentally groaning. "Can you help me, please?"

Law opened the door. "What's the matter?"

You pout and half turn while completely covering your ass, yet you felt the cold air hit your back. "I can't seem to tie it."

"Is that all?" He chuckled, step forward and slipping on new medical gloves. "I can always ask a female nurse to-"

You cut him off. "It's really no bother, Law."

"Alright." Law nods, slowly approaching as you fully turned and moved your hair out of the way. The man towers over you, reaches out, his inked hand hesitates before he helps you tying the hospital gown closed. His skilled fingers move with practiced easy. Gaze flickering down to your skin, noticing the map of goosebumps, It's from the cold in the room, he tells himself, even if, he secretly wished it was from him having such an affect on you.

With your back completely bare before him and being unable to see his transfixed and greedy stare as his cheeks warm and his heartbeats and thunders hard in his ears. He'd love nothing more than to trail feathery light kisses or his inked digits along the nape of your neck, press you closer into his chest and cause a new litter of goosebumps to pebble and rise.

God, Law doesn't know what he wants to do more. Hold you, tease you, kiss you or all three? Was this a bad idea or mistake having you as his new patient? A cute distraction that he didn't need. A temptation to test his patience as he forced himself to not act on impulse or his intrusive thoughts? Swallowing thickly, he lowered his hands. "There." He backed away to give you space as to not intimidate you. Law hoped you didn't think he was being a creep with how long it look him to tie the damned gown closed.

You fully turn and smile at him. "Thanks, Law."

"Your welcome, Y/n-ya." He meets your beautiful eyes. Once again, he found himself checking impulse after impulse with you, ignoring the yearning he felt or simply reach out to cup your face to run his inked thumb along the apple of your cheek.

Your gaze lowered dreamily to his lips. Would he taste like mint and coffee? Cinnamon, or spearmint?

There was another knock on the door, causing reality to come crashing back down, washing away the sexual tension and raw, burning haze from you both.

Yes, he's The Doctor and you as his new Patient.

Law's jaw clenches. "What is it?" He calls without glancing away from you before half turning to fully glare at whoever the hell was behind that goddamn door.

The door opens, Penguin peaks his head through and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry to disturb you but uh.... the newbies in training and interns are growing bored." His gaze flickers to you, his face and eyes brighten, apologetic smile turning smug. Oh, that's why Captains been fidgeting and antsy since he clocked in at 5am, secretly passing his office.

Law's heated glare turned seething, clicking his tongue. "Can't they follow simple orders or expect me to hold their hands?" Slipping his gloves off and throwing them in the trash as he storms towards the door, pauses and glances back at you from over his shoulder. "Excuse me, Y/N-ya." His face and angered expression softened a smidge, noticeable, but there.

"Don't worry." You wave your hand in a shooing gesture. "I'll be right here. "Don't be too harsh on 'em Doctor Law." You giggle.

Law nods again, giving his back to you. His eyes darken and his long legs making quick strides in Penguin's direction who immediately backs away to give his friend and boss more room. His inked hand tightens around the handle, the metal groans as he swung the door open, his frame taking up the full space as he goes off. "What the hell are you lot stranding around for? This is a hospital. A place of medicine and healing, not an amusement park or get away."

You hear apologies flying, feet shuffling at Law's command as if he's the God himself.

"Sorry Doctor!"

"Right away, Sir!"

"But I already finished my task."

"It's my break, Doc." Someone complained. "Been working since last night."

Law's jaw continues to clench and grind. "I don't want to hear excuses," he growls, causing all of them to take in their boss' demeanor. Sure, Law's a crabby, stick in the mud and can bark out harsh and cold comments, but... The Surgeon of Death looks more angry and close to snapping.

It's like he's a man possessed by the devil himself.

Bepo looks worried.

Penguin huddled closer to Shachi, whispering in his ear that you are here. The pairs shoulders shake, trying to keep in their snickers. "Caps, gone full territorial mode."

Of course, Law heard that. "What was that?" A tick mark formed on the corner of his forehead. "Are you volunteering for Clinic Duty this morning, Shachi?" He tilts his head, voice dripping in venom. "How kind of you. Now hop to it."

Penguin and Shachi flinch. Their eyes widening, meeting cold, liquid silvers.

"But Cap, it's Pen's turn.." Shachi correctly.

Law's eyes narrows. "Did I shudder?"

Shachi shuts up and followed orders.

Being left along, you were left with your thoughts and observing. You were reminded of seeing him in his blue scrubs the first night you two met.

Law seemed like the kind of angry and grumpy doctor who rarely smiled or glares and barks orders, a gorgeous asshole with a coffee addiction, clearly overworked and an insomniac.

It makes sense, that he's grouchy.

You will admit that you felt a spark rush through you when your eyes connected with his stormy, smoldering silver eyes. They're beautiful and overpowering.

You think that's the first time you've been Law's stoic mask crack into a murderous glower. Dare you say his angry expression was cute? Watching from a distance, he looked like a tiger stalking his pray, it should make you feel unnerved and scared.

You can't pull your gaze away from the scene.

Then again, this is the first time you've seen Law in his element, his work place and stomping ground. The growl and authority dripping from his deep voice causes your thighs to press together, his shoulders are tense as his inked hand tightens around the door frame, muscles flexing underneath his inked skin.

His demeanor is more intimating. His agitation vibrates through the chill in the air conditioned room, causing goosebumps to rise and spread across your skin and your nipples hardened as you bite your lower lip. Sweet mother and Christ, scold me and command me like that Doctor Law and I'm all yours. You feel your face grow inflamed as you mentally scold yourself again. Dammit, go away, naughty thoughts, go away! You yell inside your head and mentally waving your arms, growing more embarrassed. Stupid Jess! Stupid raunchy Doctor romance novel! I blame you!

Hearing the door close, your straighten your shoulders and try to act as if you weren't mentally arguing without self and thinking something kinky about your new, hot Doctor.

Law lowers his frame back into his seat, scooting it closer as the wheels roll across the tiled floor. He releases a huff, shoulders relaxing as he runs an inked hand through his dark, unruly tresses. "Apologies, Y/n." This close, you can see the faint dark circles underneath his eyes, become more pronounced as it brings out the color of his bewitching liquid metal orbs.

You swallow around the lump in your throat, mouth feels dry. "Can I have some water, please?"

"Of course," Law nods, standing to his feed, walks out to the nurses station and comes back with a chilled bottle of water. "Are you alright?" Offering you the water with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yup, I'm fine." You take it and try to open it. Brows furrow as you try again. "What the hell?" Again, its not budging. "Did they glue this on or something?"

Law pressed his lips together to bite back a laugh. "Here, let me before you make a mess." He reaches out and gently, taking the plastic bottle into his hand, twisting it and like magic it opens with ease. Resealing it and handing it back to you, watching as you reach out and squeeze the offending plastic a bit too hard, not caring, if a few big, fat droplets fall and land on your thin hospital gown.

"What kind of bullshit is this?" You glare at the bottled water as you took a few gulps to quench your thirst. You blink, feeling yourself grow even more heated and re-screwing the cap. "Wow, these mood swings are seriously no joke. Oh, thank you by the way."

This time Law did laugh. "No problem, Y/n-ya." He cleared his throat while his shoulders shook as he grinned, it looks boyish and made him appear younger as he answered. "Loss of strength, hormonal changes, mood swings and fatigue are all normal during the first trimester."

"I can't exactly run to you every time I can't open a bottle of water Law." You replied, hand tightening around the bottle. "You are a busy guy. People need you."

"Yes, but I'm your doctor now and I always take good care of my patients. You are a top priority now, don't ever forget that Y/n-ya."

"Play favorite now are we, Doctor Law?" You tease, leaning back down onto the table.

Law was tempted to say yes, but kept his mouth shut as he pulled the mini ultrasound machine closer.

He takes what looks to be a white vibrating wond, if you've ever seen one. Slipping a condom over it, opening a bottle of lube and smearing it on the device. "Now, I want you to guide this to the opening of your vagina and I'll do the rest." His tone is serious, he isn't joking.

Your eyes widen. "What?" Your face reddening.

------ End of Chapter 2 ------

I know, I know, I'm late. I'm sorry! But I hope this makes up for it! The Cliff hanger was an impulse XD Gotta keep ya'll on your toes, don't I?

Happy Valentines Day, my peeps and Law!

Tag List: @m0sigma7 @angelblueflame @pandora-writes-one-piece @short-honey-badger @supreme-burrito @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @cherry-queens-blog @fairymama624 @mrstraffy @kira-scarllet @strawheart-pirate

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 2: Rip And Tear

Content warning: misogyny, angst, brief description of dead bodies, violence

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Them - Jesse Draxler, VOWWS Follow - Android Lust

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

It should have been your sister. She was the lovely one—kind and sweet, able to charm anyone with a pretty smile and a few words. Why did it have to be you? Was this your punishment for what you did to your mother? If so, you would gladly accept your fate. But you only wish you didn’t have to deal with a bastard like Ryomen Suku—

“Oi, brat! Time to wake up!”

Slap!

Your eyes crash open, and a dull sting radiates from the side of your face where you were struck.

Blinking rapidly, you find Sukuna's face alarmingly close to yours, noses almost touching. Warm breath brushes your cheeks, carrying the faintest scent of blood. His large, glowing orbs hover so near that their strange pattern becomes clear—concentric rings nested perfectly within one another, rippling outward like waves from a single drop in a still pond.

You blink again.

Memories of what happened before you fainted rush back.

His ravenous eyes eating their way into you.

You panic.

Heart hammering against your chest, you frantically scoot backward, kimono floundering around your legs, you kick up a storm of dirt and moss under your heels in a desperate attempt to distance yourself. The rough ground scrapes against your gloved hands and calves, but the fear propels you to keep moving, to get away from him.

Sukuna huffs and straightens to his full height. He circles his tongue behind closed lips, clicking it derisively. Then he crosses his upper arms over his chest, and the lower ones fold in, hands on hips. His face is one of indifference as he watches your panic unfold. His eyes, however, betray a hint of satisfaction, enjoying the spectacle before him.

As you shuffle away, you can't help but feel he's silently crafting new insults in his twisted mind, ready to hurl them at you in your vulnerable state.

Mutt. Bitch. Pathetic. Ugly.

Eyes lowering, you see your breasts are still exposed, and nipples peaked and throbbing from his advances. Your hands fly up to cover yourself. That familiar feeling of shame is all-consuming.

Upon closer inspection, you notice that your kimono is completely ruined. Though you shouldn’t care, you still need to arrive at the shrine, and you are a mess. The fabric is stained with sweat, dirt, and possibly saliva from his palm mouth. Additionally, the front panels of your garment are ripped open from where he descended upon you.

Images of Sukuna flood your mind: his chest pressed to your back, looming over you, warm breath, hands touching damp skin, hands dipping lower…

Your eyes snap up to meet his.

"What did you do to me?" you ask, striving to keep your voice steady so as not to provoke him. You are beginning to realize he is as unpredictable as the weather. Speaking of which, since regaining consciousness, you've noticed large charcoal-coloured clouds have drifted in and have finally relieved the sun’s oppressive heat.

Sukuna scoffs at your question.

"What did I do? I merely touched your virgin tits, and then you took a tumble. Pathetic, really," he remarks, raising his eyebrow to emphasize the word 'pathetic.'

A tumble.

Of course, he lacked the decency to support you when you fainted. You vividly remember the sensation of weightlessness as he let you fall.

You want to confront him about his disregard for your boundaries, but considering he's a monster, you doubt he would have any morality to respect them.

"You didn’t—" you swallow saliva, "you didn’t do anything else, did you?" you ask nervously.

His eyes flare. 

“Didn’t what? Fuck you?" he responds with a note of delight in his voice, knowing it will unsettle you.

You nod slightly, your dishevelled hair falling past your shoulder to obscure your face.

"Trust me, you would know if I had," he sneers. You don't trust him. "Besides, you can rest assured I don’t plan on fucking you. I don’t fuck weak women. I prefer those who don’t pass out from the faintest of touches."

You hate him.

You’re not weak. You’re just... complicated. And in the moments before you turn him into a massive pile of flesh and bone, he will come to realize the mistake he's made.

Both of you lock eyes.

Looking up at him from the forest floor, you wonder how many have seen this as their final view right before he rips them apart.

How does he do it? Does he solely use teeth, or does he prefer to use his four hands? You've heard the rumours of his abilities and are grateful you've not experienced them firsthand.

In the distance, you hear a low rumble reverberating through the air, signaling an approaching storm fueled by the day's heat.

Sukuna's gaze shifts skyward, and a sudden cool breeze tousles his pink hair and blood-stained hakama. He seems at ease here, as if he belongs in this forest, like a creature in its natural habitat—feral. And that's precisely why your father wants him eradicated. Sukuna is too untamed.

He looks back down at you.

"Come," he orders, stepping forward and clamping a hand around your arm, causing you to jump. "It's time to attend our wedding before you further bore me and I decide to kill you," he adds sharply, yanking you upright.

You instinctively clutch the torn fabric to your chest, covering yourself. His gaze falls on your hands, and a sadistic grin appears, canines poking out. He takes pleasure in what he has done to you.

Sukuna gestures for you to move ahead, pointing south with his lower hands.

"After you, my ugly virgin bride," he belittles. A smirk overshadows his face and then disappears.

God, you desperately want to push back against his cruel words, but you restrain yourself. Instead, you avert your gaze, eyes narrowing in anger, mouth thinning.

As you brush past him, his aura briefly curls lazily around your neck before dissipating as quickly as it came.

* * * * *

More damn walking. 

It feels like you've been out here for an eternity, though it’s probably only been a bit over an hour.

You now lead the way, with Sukuna following closely behind. The atmosphere between you two is silent, broken only by the sound of his footsteps and his occasional grunts when you stray off course. You let your kimono drag on the ground, gathering leaves and dirt, as you no longer care to keep it clean. Periodically, you feel a tingle directed at your nape, aware that he is staring at you.

The arches of your feet are starting to ache, but not as much as your tender breasts, the only reminder of what he did to you.

At this very moment, you long for your mother’s presence. You crave comfort, knowing your father won’t offer any. In fact, the asshole that he is, you believe he would laugh at you for the incident.

There’s another deep rumble in the distance as the storm draws closer. The wind begins to pick up, carrying with it the scent of rain. You welcome its arrival, craving something to witness its fury while you keep your emotions tightly bottled up—locked, secure, perhaps waiting to split open one day.

After walking for some time, you see a large structure peeking out of the treetops in the distance—the shrine. 

Relief washes over you, knowing your sister is there.

Drawing closer to the tree line, you spot a wooden box partially concealed among the forest's undergrowth. It’s weathered and marked by time and nature. Curiosity pulls you closer, and as you pass, you peer inside. You find moth-eaten textiles that, in their prime, might have been of high quality. Seeing these tattered remnants makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling and keep walking.

Your eyes begin to notice a series of other objects scattered throughout the area. Broken ceramics, pottery, bags that might contain grain, and tiny silk pouches lie strewn across the forest floor, mixed with discarded, rusted relics.

They are offerings. Contributions. Something to appease the abomination at your back.

You wonder why so many of them lay out here instead of inside the shrine. Perhaps whoever brought them was too frightened to confront what lay within. You could understand that.

As your eyes continue scanning the forest floor, you finally spot what you dreaded seeing.

Broken white shapes tangled in the brush—skeletal remains of both humans and livestock scattered across the ground. Sun-bleached bones jut from beneath weathered, dry skin that clings like parchment. Skulls, still holding wisps of hair, catch the wind, making them dance.

Although the husks are few, they hint that something had consumed most of the remains. But you knew, god, you knew what ate them.

A lump of sick tries to push its way from your stomach to your throat, but you force yourself to swallow it.

Tentatively, you peek over your shoulder. Sukuna is following behind you with a sense of urgency.

His round muscular shoulders rock back and forth—bunching up, then releasing, bunching up, releasing, bunching, releasing.

Their rapid oscillation accentuates the speed of his gait. Each rhythmic swing of his muscles makes you restless.

His eyes climb down to meet yours. They seem to carry a silent, almost shuddering warning, urging you to turn your head and quicken your pace, which you do.

Eventually, you arrive at the forest's edge, with one foot stepping out from the trees. A firm hand suddenly grabs your shoulder, halting you. You resist the urge to swat it away.

Sukuna circles around to face you, his four eyes glaring down.

"A few matters to address before you enter your new home," he says, sounding both sarcastic and threatening all at once. "Firstly, understand this arrangement solely exists for my amusement. I get pleasure from witnessing your father’s torment as I take his precious daughter from him."

If only Sukuna knew how little your father cared for you.

“So, that’s why you agreed to this?” you ask.

You want to confirm what your father suggested: Sukuna relishes holding power over him. You know, there is a long-standing animosity between the two. Over the last few years, Sukuna has been encroaching on your clan’s territory, leading to a series of skirmishes to reclaim what was lost, most of which have been useless.

Sukuna stares blankly, digging his thumb into your shoulder, and continues, ignoring the question.

“As my wife in name only, I expect your obedience at all times. Lastly”—he pauses, drawing closer, the oppressive weight of his presence seeming to suffocate the air around you—“understand that you are my property. Should you ever run away, I will hunt you down and tear you apart. Understood?”

Your blood cools.

What if you fail to kill him and end up trapped here, unable to leave? And if you do manage to escape, you now have his warning to contend with.

That familiar prickling in your fingers returns.

You take a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your face remains neutral even as your heart beats violently.

Slowly, you nod.

Satisfied with your compliance, he releases his death grip and walks away.

“Is that what happened to the woman on the road? Did she run away?” you ask, unsure where the sudden bravery came from.

He stops.

With his back turned, he shifts slightly, casting a sidelong glance. You briefly glimpse his lower eye, wrinkling as it slowly sweeps over you. There's a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

His cloying aura rolls towards you, filling your head, it's heavy, gnawing at your nerves.

“Careful,” he warns. “I have little patience for nosy creatures.”

Inwardly, you laugh as he calls you a ‘creature.’ The irony isn’t lost on you—if anyone deserves that title, it’s him.

With nothing else said, he turns and strides out of the final row of trees, making his way toward the shrine. His lack of response shows that he doesn’t want you meddling in his affairs. That’s fine. You have secrets of your own. 

Dumbass.

You ruffle your face to mock him behind his back. His big, stupid, giant back.

Without turning, Sukuna tips one of his lower hands into a crook and gestures for you to follow. You hurry to catch up.

Approaching the shrine, you see that it’s massive, reflecting the presence of its master. It’s constructed from strong, thick timber, beams and pillars carved from wood. They contrast against the dark, weathered stone of the foundation. Around it lies a strange desolation—no foliage grows near it, as if the forest itself has recoiled. And here you are, walking into its embrace. 

Great.

As you climb the stone steps, you see your sister standing outside the entrance with a white-haired monk. At the sight of her, you feel your body relax. A subtle comfort fills you.

“Yuna,” you murmur her name, the sound escaping your lips as a shaky breath. But the relief is quickly overshadowed by everything that has happened—your hellish journey through the forest with Sukuna.

Your eyes swell as if a dam is being slowly filled. You rush past Sukuna, who mutters wordlessly under his breath.

Barreling up the steps, you hold your torn kimono to your chest. Your sister can see your distress and instantly rushes to meet you, pulling you close. Tears begin to fall, finally ruining the last traces of your makeup.

She rubs your back soothingly as you cling to her, knowing every moment with her will soon be gone. Tonight, she, your father, and your clan will depart, leaving you alone to face a task you are starting to believe is impossible.

Your sobs become uncontrollable now.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here," she whispers, placing a gentle hand against your cheek. "No more tears, sister.”

Her words and actions, like your mother’s, relieve your aches and pains. Your tears dry slowly, and you sniffle once before leaning back to look at her. Her smile is the sweetest thing you have seen in a while, making you want to cry all over again.

Heavy steps echo behind you, and you tense, seeing as a shadow falls over you both.

Looking up, you see Sukuna observing your sister with an unreadable expression. Your sister's fingers hook into you as she returns his look with a challenging stare.

He scoffs at the display, then cuts his eyes to the white-haired monk.

“Uraume,” he grunts and gestures to you, “get this lot cleaned up.” 

“Of course, Master Sukuna,” they say, with little emotion, bowing as they address him.

With one last disapproving look, Sukuna steps through the massive doors and disappears.

Uraume moves toward you and your sister, who are huddled together.

“This way,” they gesture toward the doors.

Thunder echoes again, and a drop of rain hits the top of your head. The storm is here.

You use one hand to hold up your torn kimono and the other to grip your sister’s wrist, determined not to let her go.

With all the courage you can muster, you step inside.

The shrine’s corridors are wide and deep, dimly lit by flickering lanterns hanging from the walls. Your shadow trails faintly behind you as you walk, and your feet meet the polished wooden flooring, which echoes softly with each step.

The air is thick with the scent of aged wood, mingled with rot and an iron-like tang that you try to avoid inhaling.

“Where’s Father?” you whisper to your sister as you follow Uraume.

“When we arrived, he was ushered away with the clan members. I assume they’re off being entertained,” she replies with a smile meant to reassure you.

You nod your head. You need to speak with him privately.

After a series of winding twists and turns, you arrive at what you can only assume is the back of the shrine. You've lost track of the path you took. 

Uraume leads you into a private bathing room where a large basin of misting water awaits. To your relief, they allow your sister to stay with you.

Two of the shrine’s attendants enter and remove your torn kimono, carefully taking away the remnants of Sukuna’s touches. You glance down at your silk gloves, now stained with dirt, and tug them off. Keeping your hands clenched into fists, you brace yourself as the women prepare to scrub you down.

You settle into the water as the cleaning begins with fervor. Your ruined makeup is wiped away, and your hair is washed and combed. No one speaks to you, and that’s just fine. After the day you've had, you're too exhausted to engage in conversation. Besides, the warm water soothes you, making you feel like you could fall asleep right there.

A rustle of fabric pulls your attention. Blinking heavily, you spot your sister seated across the room, her lips pursing in disapproval as she watches her handiwork unravel.

Once they have finished their cleaning, you notice that they don’t apply any new makeup or fuss with your hair; you are left as natural as can be. They quickly dress you in a plain robe, and Uraume hurries you both off into another room before departing.

This new room will apparently be your personal living quarters. It’s spacious, with a well-kept futon spread out and a low table situated under a small, grilled window. You note the window size and know you won’t be able to squeeze through it if you want to escape. In the corner, a chair with a cushioned seat sits low to the ground.

You let out a deep sigh.

It doesn’t appear as a prison, though it feels like one.

You spot your small travelling trunk beside the futon, carried here by one of your clan’s attendants. Opening it, you take out a fresh pair of white silk gloves and slip them on.

The colour choice is deliberate, as you've noticed the kimono waiting for you on the futon.

You move toward the garment and lift it.

Its white base flows like the colour of bone—bone white. Like the burial site you witnessed on the way here. You can only assume that your dear fiancé selected it for you. The front panels are lined in dark blue trim, creating a striking contrast. Next to the kimono is a matching obi.

Shrugging off your robe, your sister begins to help you dress.

As the kimono settles over you, it feels almost like a cage locking around you.

“Do you want to talk about what happened in the forest?” your sister says quietly as she maneuvers around you.

You tense up. You want to keep your emotions in check and not upset her.

“No,” you whisper firmly.

She remains silent and begins to wrap the obi around your midsection.

“Yuna, could you find Father and bring him here for me, please?” you ask quietly.

Your sister looks up from where she’s tucking and tying the obi into place. She finishes, then steps back.

“Of course,” she murmurs before leaving.

You pace the length of the room, mind running through different scenarios. Your fingers twist and knot together as though trying to find relief in their own frantic dance. 

After several moments, the door slides open, and your father and Onishi enter and close it, leaving your sister nowhere to be seen.

You can already smell the sake on both of them, and that look of displeasure on your father’s face makes your hackles rise. Pursed lip, furrowed brow, squared shoulders.

“I see you're still useless,” he says, voice flat, almost slurring.

Your eyebrows crease.

“I tried. He had his back to me, and I made an attempt, but he sensed me. He’s inhuman. I’m not sure how to get this done, Father,” you whisper before pausing, “he didn’t take kindly to that, and then he assaulted m—”

Crack!

The violent slap echoes through the room.

It hurts.

Your vision darkens, and your head snaps to the side. A high-pitched yelp escapes you as tears sting your eyes. You can already feel a bruise forming on your cheek.

“Do you think I care what he did to you?” His eyebrows rise as if in a question, but you know better than to answer. “You’re a woman. You’re supposed to let him use you. Let him touch you. I don’t care. I don’t even care if he devours you piece by piece. Just get it done!” he spits out.

Your bottom lip trembles at his words. Onishi leans against the closed door, laughing with a nasally chuckle.

Your father grabs one of your wrists and pulls it towards him.

“It wasn’t hard for you to touch your pregnant mother with these.” He gestures to your gloved hands, and your stomach sinks. “I don’t care how long it takes. Do the same to him.”

You blink several times, still reeling from the slap.

“How is there not another way? Why am I the answer?” you ask, voice trembling.

Your father yanks you closer, raising his hand to hit you again. You shut your eyes, cowering in resignation. You are too exhausted to resist, allowing your body to crumple under his grip.

Knock, knock, knock.

Your father pauses, turning his head toward the closed door.

“The ceremony is set to begin,” Uraume’s calm voice cuts through from the other side. 

They might not realize it, but they have just saved you.

“We will be there in a moment,” your father responds coolly, then turns back to you. “Get it done, or I will persuade you in other ways,” he hisses in your face, drops your wrist, and leaves the room.

Onishi approaches and looks down at you, his eyes cold. He runs his thumb across his lower lip.

“You know, once you take down the beast, I’m sure your father will allow me to take you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your bruised cheek. You flinch at the touch. “That is, if you've not completely ruined yourself by then.”

He gives you one last cruel smile before departing the room, leaving you alone.

You hate him. You hate both of them. You hate all of them.

Thunder rumbles outside, shaking the shrine as the rain begins to pour. The floodgates have opened.

Your sister peeks her head into the room.

“Sister, it’s time to go,” she says with a smile, extending her hand. You take it, and carefully turn your face away so she can’t see the bruise on your cheek.

In silence, you both walk down the dimly lit corridor toward the ceremony.

Your hand instinctively moves to your face, and you compare this slap to the one inflicted by Sukuna. A surge of resentment rises as you realize that your father’s blow was far more brutal.

🔗 Chapter 3

[astermagnolia]

My Stalkers and Cryptids Soulmate Au headcanons

Weasley "Wes" Weston

• He has Two moms and Two older brother.

-His mom, Angela, is bisexual and has Dreams as her signifier

-His ma', Jessie also known as Jess, is a lesbian and has her soulmate's names on her wrists

(-If you want i can do a separate post about the Weston family backstory since i also gave them a third soulmate who acts as a uncle/father to the boys but is 100% platonic with Angela and Jess)

-Easton is the oldest and Kyle is the middle child (based on this post)

• he knows german. Why? Idk. I just wanted him to know a second language and german just seemed the most obvious for Wes.

• Wes went with danny and his friends to watch them get a piercing (by this point he started hanging out with them and slowly becoming friends). When Danny got his ear pierced, Wes passed out. Whether it's because of the blood, the needle, or the pain idk but he def passed out.

• Wes is Queer (in terms of sexuality) and cis

• he Majors in journalism and minors in photography

• he played basketball growing up and joined the team when he was in school

• Wes doesn't care about being the little spoon or big spoon. He just wants to be close to his partners

• Wes knows how to cook!! Not master levels like Bernard but far better than danny and tim. He often joins Bernard in helping to cook and they both cherish these moments even if they are common.

• he likes to play harmless little pranks on his partners. He makes sure he's not crossing any boundaries or harmful ones. There were a few hiccups in the beginning (bernard being in a cult for a while and tim being a vigilante) but he apologizes profusely and makes sure not to do those anymore.

• Wes shows his love by hanging out and physical touch (nonsexual). He has two older brothers and he's the youngest so they were constantly tackling each other and rough housing. His moms weren't afraid of affection and made sure to let their boys know it was okay to show it. He always has a hand on his partners whether it be around their shoulders, holding their hand, hugging them from behind etc.

-this was a little problem with Tim since, despite being touch starved, didn't like sudden physical affection or ones that lasted long. Early in their relationship, Wes thought Tim hated him. They eventually talked it out and worked it out

- Bernard was also confused at the sudden affection since he's an only child and his parents (particularly his father) didn't show much affection. He got over it quickly and loves Wes's hugs

• Wes has a relatively healthy sleep schedule but will stay up for days if he's got a huge theory cooking up. Tim 100% enables this mainly cause he's got hooked in too. Bernard will stop them and help them eat and go to sleep. Once theyre better, Bernard joins in the theory crafting

• Wes hates cars (will be explained in the fic) but what he hates even more are Tim's and Danny's motorcycles (danny gets a motorcycle when he's older :D). He always worries for them when they go on a drive even though Tim is a vigilante and Danny is half dead.

• Wes and Bernard have thought of uploading their superhero theories (especially the ones where they guess and present their evidence of who is in a relationship with who) for shits and giggles. Tim has convinced them of uploading the one where they think bruce/superman/batman/clark are in a poly relationship

• Wes has a blue hat similar to his brothers (it's their thing™) but doesn't wear it. But he does take care of it

• wes will take random pictures of the most random things and just hand it to whichever partner he finds first with no explanation. (the other three have procured a box and put these random pictures in it for safekeeping)

• for being a white boy, Wes can handle spice unlike Danny who just melts. Tim and Wes like to see who can handle spice better. Bernard can sort of handle it

• he loves his feral boyfriends and would absolutely help them in world domination. He is the one that would help them hide a body and help them get away with it

• Wes is not a "fix them" guy but a "i can make them worse" but also "whatever the fuck is wrong with them is funnier." Guy

[in-flvx]

It's sooo interesting how much focus the show puts on hanks ptsd and anxiety, and directly mirrors it with Jesse. Who. Like. On a daily basis, witnesses and lives through, very similar and worse stuff.

Hank, until he himself kills tuco in s2, has a cruel and even joyful attitude towards crime scenes. He laughs about them, shares them with his family. Always as a way to hold up his masculinity. But then he kills tuco, and then has to deal with the ptsd of that. He has panic attacks, thinks he's being attacked in his home when his poorly sealed craft beer bottles explode, and just barely survives the tortuga explosion bc the sight of a dead man's head on a turtle gives him another anxiety attack, which in turn exposes him to even more death and his colleagues losing limbs. He tries to keep up his toxic masculinity facade after that, and clings to it, but we do see his change starting there. I'm not well versed on the later seasons, I just know that the time he is bed bound give him some more time to both let out all his horribleness, and to become better at his job. He shows us a pretty realistic reaction to all the horrible situations he's being thrust into. All while having a pretty stable home life and loving family.

Jesse meanwhile. Jesus that boy needs so many hugs.

He kills a man and dissolves him in acid in the very first episodes. He keeps getting beat up, bad enough that he has to be treated at the hospital. He has an already fractured relationship to his parents, which is why he stays at his aunts place, whom he took care of before her death from cancer. Which is likely why he accepts to work with Walter. To help him. And he keeps being confronted with excessive violence and death, while his situation keeps getting worse, so he finds himself bound to Walter. He has literally no security net. All his friendships are conditional, and based on drugs. It's a vicious circle. No one to process his feelings with, so he turns to the drugs. To forget, to numb. Etc. Everywhere he turns there is more rejection, conditional relationships, and so much violence.

And just. That one moment in s2. After hank thinks he's being attacked in his own home, and nearly shoots marie, directly followed by Walter arriving at Jesse's home with the gun, to 'take care' of the junkies who stole from them... which is again followed by way more and more horrible violence. With the kid Jesse keeps trying to protect and parent while he's there... it just hit a very very soft spot in me. Someone please take care of Jesse. Someone cook him a meal and tug him into bed. Give him 6000h of therapy and a stable home. Give him 2,5 friends (or more) who just like him and want to hang out with him.

[whataboutsimple]

//Posts MasterList//

I have no idea how people do these things, so I'm about to create a complete messe. Posted: 13.10.24

MC:SM

//Complex AU by whataboutsimple//

Tools System

Full Names for Old Order OF The Stone

Crafting system

New and Old Order age

Command blocks information <- important for the plot.

Random details

Romantics relationships list

Even more details

Currency system

Old Order details

Too much details..

Arcs

You've called that a night you win.

Emerald of power you hold

The curse of four

The cold fire

//Artworks by whataboutsimple//

Gabriel and Magnus's fight gacha full art Magnus&Gabriel

Forced Hero AU full art Gabriel

Annoyed Gabriel sketch Gabriel

I was a hero once full art Magnus

Cookie killer sketch Jesse

Cookei dress full art

Gabriel in a cookie dress gacha full art Gabriel

Potion of beauty doodle Lukas

Tired nerd doodle Radar

Kawai boom doodle Magnus

New Warrior full art Petra

Angry Admin doodle Romeo

Puppy dog family doodle M!Jesse F!Jesse Gabriel

Forced Hero AU sketch Gabriel

Adminsona full art Simple

Good boy doodle Gabriel

Chipped Warrioir full art Gabriel

//Incorrect quotes//

Gabriel, Magnus, Ellegaard

Gabriel, Magnus

Modern AU

Old Order

Old Order of ex-lovers

Pizza

Order of Dummies

Block people

Russian Ivor

Puppy Gabriel

Not puppy Gabriel

Old Order.. again

//Oneshots and rarepairs//

Delivery guy, huh? Magnus X M!Reader

Nightmares Gabriel

Nightmares Magnus

A fan Gabriel

Will you marry me? Soren X Gabriel

Groundhog day p.1 Gabriel

Like.. Magnus X Ellegaard

Not enough for you Gabriel X Ivor

A bit of stress relief Radar X F!Jesse

Morning routine with them Adien X F!Jesse X Petra

The key to relaxation Petra X Nell

That's a new feeling Maya X Cassie Rose

The world could wait Radar X M!Jesse

More obvious hints, please Lukas X M!Jesse X Petra

Jesse X Nell

//Headcanons//

Old Order — always an incident, always unexpected.

Axel headcanons

Respawn system

Age in MCSM

Gabriel and Petra times

Puppy eyes Gabriel

BoomTown

Order's pets

Tattoos

Feathers for Soren

Inventory

Languages of Old Order

Gabriel is bad at jokes

//Alternate univreses//

AU creators, where y'all?

The phone AU

Three AUs

Lost Warrior AU by G Anon

Ore Siblings AU by G Anon

Coffee shop&flower shop AU

Olivia the "Hero"

Lairs are dead

Psychological horror

//Gabriel's taste in menl//

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo p.2

Fred X Gabriel

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo p.3

Fred X Gabriel p.2

Fred X Gabriel p.3

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo p.4

Fred X Gabriel p.4

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo p5.

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo p.6

Gabriel X Hadrian X Romeo p.7

[aug3nd]

⸺ ⟳ # 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝟑𝐍𝐃 ⋯ a   study  in  a  hymn  sung  in  screams,  a  requiem  carved  into  the  marrow  of  your  bones.  Survival  where  survival  was  never  meant  to  be,  where  every  breath  is  a  borrowed  thing  and  every  scar  tells  a  story  you  never  wanted  to  remember.  Birth into  ruin,  baptized  in  blood,  shaped  by  hands  that  should  have  held  you  close  but  instead  led  you  to  the  altar.  Faith  twisted  into  a  noose,  devotion  turned  to  decay.  The  ones  who  gave  you  life  offering  you  up  to  the  abyss,  whispering  promises  of  eternity  as  the  poison  took  their  breath,  as  their  bodies  folded  like  dying  stars.  And  you,  the  one  meant  to  follow,  left  among  the  corpses  —  a  girl  unchosen,  abandoned  even  by  death.

Learning  that  hope  is  a  fragile  thing,  a  sandcastle  crumbling  before  the  tide.  That  love,  once  given,  is  a  blade  pressed  to  the  throat.  That  sometimes,  the  ones  who  should  save  you  are  the  ones  who  let  you  drown,   pouring  your  rage  into  guitars  strung  too  tight,  microphones  kissed  by  the  tremble  of  a  voice  that  refused  to  die.  Dressed  in  defiance,  stitching  your  pain  into  rebellion,  let  the  world  mistake  your  recklessness  for  strength.  The  quiet  despair,  that  endless  gray,  a  specter  trailing  steps.

Presently stationed at @helltownfms. Kindly refrain from further interaction unless aligned with the aforementioned group. Created and overseen by rei.

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬, 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡.

⸻lily-rose depp, twenty-five, cis-female, she / her ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of MORRIGAN "MORGUE" SILVER. they are TWENTY-SIX, and have been missing for ONE MONTH IN ARCADIA. when the sun rises, they work as UNDECIDED / FORMER ROCK STAR. rumors in town say they can be ADDICTIVE and MAGNETIC. they chose to live in THE SETTLEMENT, and have an uncanny resemblance to Mia Wallace ( Pulp Fiction ), Nancy Downs ( The Craft ), Jesse Custer ( Preacher ), Emily "Junkie" Kaye ( The Heroin Diaries ), Selena Kyle ( Batman ), Peter Graham ( Hereditary ). can they survive another night ?…⸻ a specter of sound and sin, stitched together from cigarette smoke, stage lights, and the echoes of a scream that never quite left her throat; Smudged kohl eyes that hold the weight of forgotten prayers, lips split between a sneer and a plea, the rasp of her voice dragging like a blade against soft skin; Chaos draping itself over her like a second skin — fishnets torn at the knee, a crucifix swinging loose over bruised ribs, the scent of whiskey and regret lingering in the fabric of her existence.

INQUIRIES ;

How did your muse spend their first night in Arcadia, and where?

You were supposed to be dead long before that night.

Maybe the first time should have been in that house of corpses, staring into the glazed-over eyes of the people who called themselves your family, their mouths frozen mid-prayer, their hands clasped in reverence as death claimed them. Or maybe in that motel bathroom, needle still lodged in your arm, staring at your own reflection like a specter waiting to fade. You’d lost count of the times you should have slipped through the cracks, how many nights you’d tempted the abyss just to see if it would bite back. And yet, there you were again. Somewhere between the world of the living and the dead.

The last thing you remembered was the rush of fluorescent lights overhead, the ambulance doors rattling in their hinges, voices too far away to belong to you. Hands pressing against your ribs, forcing breath back into your lungs, dragging you — kicking, screaming — out of the void. You hadn’t wanted to come back. Not really. But something always pulled you back from the edge, something cruel, something stubborn, something that refused to let you rest. The confusion came next. A blur of movement, voices pitched in panic, the sound of metal groaning, tires skidding against gravel. And then — nothing.

Blackness.

You thought you were dreaming. Thought maybe the overdose had finally done its job, that this was just another fevered hallucination, another unraveling of a mind too far gone. When the howls came — deep, guttural, hungry — you thought they were echoes from your past, the ghosts you never quite managed to outrun. You told yourself this isn’t real, told yourself it was just the drugs still playing tricks on your system. But when you woke, the nightmare hadn’t ended. Morning bled through the blinds of the clinic, carving sharp angles across the room, white walls too clean, too sterile, too still. A voice drifted in and out, saying things you weren’t ready to hear — you can’t leave, you’re stuck, this is your new reality. You sat there, silent, limbs draped over the too-thin mattress, the weight of it pressing against your chest like a curse. You didn’t belong here. Not in a town that wasn’t on any map, not in some purgatory where the rules bent and monsters howled in the dark. But the way they looked at you, the way they explained the rules with tired eyes and voices dulled by too many repetitions, made it clear — this wasn’t a joke, this wasn’t a nightmare you could sweat out.

And yet, shock didn’t break you. Because nothing ever did.

Or maybe it was the pills dissolving in your bloodstream, the ones you swiped from the cabinet when no one was looking, their bitter taste a familiar comfort against the ache creeping in. You weren’t ready to feel — not yet. So you let the drugs wrap their arms around you, let them dull the edges, keep you floating just above the surface of it all. You didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. Didn’t beg for answers like the others probably did when they first arrived. You just sat there, tapping your fingers against the mattress like you were keeping time to a song only you could hear. Outside, the wind howled, and for the first time since waking up, you let yourself wonder if it was calling for you.

Because if there was one thing you knew for sure — the dark always came back for what belonged to it.

Why did your muse choose to live where they do?

You chose the Settlement, though you wouldn’t call it home. There was something about it — the way the people moved, the way they spoke in murmurs thick with reverence, the way their hands curled in prayer beneath the shadow of that tree. It should have unsettled you. Maybe, at first, it did. The whispers, the blind devotion, the eerie hush that settled over the town when night fell.

But it wasn’t unfamiliar. Not to someone like you.

You had been raised under the weight of rituals, your childhood steeped in bloodstained doctrine and candlelit invocations, the air thick with incense and whispered oaths to something unseen. Your parents had worshiped, bowed, offered themselves up as sacrifices — and when their time came, when their bodies collapsed to the floor like puppets with cut strings, they had expected you to follow. You didn’t. Maybe that’s why you were still here. And maybe that’s why the Settlement felt like the only place that made sense. You understood these people. They believed in something bigger than themselves, something that held power over life and death, something that could give and take with the tilt of its unseen hand. They feared it, loved it, bled for it in equal measure.

You understood what it meant to exist under the thumb of something greater, something unknowable. And so, you stayed. Not because you believed. Not because you wanted to be one of them. But because — for the first time in a long time, something was calling you back. And this time, you were listening.

What was your muse doing when they came across the tree?

You were dying in the back of the ambulance you came in on. The world had collapsed into a tunnel of flashing red lights, the siren a distant wail swallowed by the fog. Someone had been pressing against your chest, calling your name like it belonged to you, like it was something you should fight for. You remembered the sting of the needle, the rush of cold spreading through your veins as they tried to keep you tethered. But you had already been slipping. Slipping into something deeper. Something darker. The world outside the window was wrong — twisting, unraveling, the road curving where it shouldn’t. You thought it was the drugs. Thought maybe you had finally done it, finally tipped over the edge you’d been dancing on your whole damn life.

And then — impact.

The metal screamed. The world spun. A final breath punched from your lungs, and then — stillness. You didn’t know how long you had been unconscious. Minutes? Hours? Maybe you had never woken up at all. The back doors of the ambulance had been torn open, the stretcher tipped, IV lines still hanging like veins cut loose from a body that had been left behind. The paramedics were gone. The road? Gone. Nothing but trees. Nothing but mist curling through the branches, swallowing the last fragments of the world you used to know. And in the center of it all — the Tree.

It stood before you, ancient and gnarled, roots splitting the earth like veins, its branches stretching impossibly wide, dark, endless. The air around it pulsed, thick with something you couldn’t name, something that sank into your skin and pressed cold fingers against the inside of your skull. You should have run. Should have turned back, screamed, clawed your way away from whatever the hell this was. But you didn’t. You stumbled forward, bare feet dragging across the dirt, a weight in your chest that wasn’t entirely your own. It was calling to you. Not with words, not with sound, but with something deeper — something stitched into the marrow of your bones, something that had been waiting for you long before you ever set foot on this cursed ground. The Tree had seen you. And it knew you. You reached out, fingers brushing the rough bark —

And in that moment, you saw everything. Not in flashes, not in glimpses, but all at once. Blood in the dirt, soaking deep, feeding the roots. Faces carved from shadow, watching, waiting. The screams of those who came before you, the ones who tried to leave, the ones who never did. The cycle, the suffering, the way the town bent and twisted itself around this one, single point.

And at the very center of it all, yourself. Not as you were. Not as you had been. But as something else entirely. The past, the present, the nightmares clawing at the edges of your consciousness — it was all there. And for a single, terrible moment, you understood. Then the Tree let you go.

Your body collapsed to the dirt, the world spinning back into place, and when you gasped awake, the town was waiting. Your life before this? It had been borrowed time. And now, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Has your muse left anything behind that they are desperately trying to return to or escape?

You left behind ashes and echoes, but nothing that would mourn you. No lovers tangled in the sheets of your absence. No family waiting by a phone that would never ring. No home beyond the motels and green rooms where you spent your nights, the places where you drowned in music, in vices, in the kind of oblivion that tasted like freedom but felt like chains. What was there to return to? A band that had already started to forget you, their lives moving forward while yours remained caught in the wreckage. A name scrawled in neon, flickering and dim, in venues where your voice once shook the walls. Unfinished songs, half-written lyrics smeared across hotel napkins and drugstore receipts — verses that bled with confessions you weren’t sober enough to say out loud.

You were always running. Running from the cold grip of the past, from the ghosts that sat heavy on your chest when the high wore off, from the memory of your mother’s vacant eyes staring back at you across a circle of corpses. Running from the fact that you were supposed to be one of them. You never asked to be saved.

Not when the paramedics pulled you from the brink, not when your body seized and your veins burned from overdose, not when you woke up in the back of that ambulance with another shot at a life you weren’t sure you wanted. And now, here you were. Not dead, but not alive. Stuck. Yet even in this godforsaken place, with its haunted streets and whispering trees, the past had its claws in you. You could still hear it calling, like the distant hum of an old song bleeding through static, a melody that only you could recognize. Maybe that’s why you kept a pack of matches in your pocket, half-used, the scent of sulfur still clinging to the tips of your fingers. Maybe that’s why you ran your fingers over the scars on your arms like a blind woman tracing a map to somewhere she was never meant to go. Maybe that’s why, sometimes before nightfall, you stood at the edge of the forest and listened — just listened — to the way the dark seemed to breathe, to the way it felt like something familiar watching you back. Because no matter how far you ran, there was something left unfinished. And whatever it was, whatever still tethered you to the life you tried to burn away — it wasn’t done with you yet.

[laferrassie]

Having Mr Driscoll thoughts.

He was lost for a long time. It was a short time to you, but for someone who just spent 6 months in a cell it was a wonderfully long time to be lost, walking along streets and reading post notices, sitting in diners and drinking coffee, closing his eyes and getting to open them somewhere where there's a door. Todd gave him black coffee in the compound. He drinks his with milk.

When he was driving the 40 miles from Ed's drop-off to Haines, he didn't think about the future. Only the past. But now he's met with the knowledge of time marching relentlessly forward. Time doesn't wait for Jesse Pinkman. As far as the world is concerned he's already dead.

Trailer parks are anonymous places. He cooks on the gas stove, eats silently out under the stars. Listens to families - kids - playing at dusk. He coughs a lot - side effects from cooking without protection, smashed bones never healed properly. The scars on his face don't bother people as much as he thought they would. Sometimes people smile at him. He keeps conversations short. Maybe there's a girl. He hopes she can't feel his eyes burning into her head as she walks back to hers. Don't get close.

Where did you move from? Idaho. Mr Driscoll has a high school diploma too. Late one night he submits an online application to a community college. He gets in. Not Business, not Sports Science, but for Childhood Education.

For a while he doesn't know if he's Jesse Pinkman or Mr Driscoll. He wonders if Jesse has to live inside Mr Driscoll, if he needs to be snuffed out entirely, if that would be for the best. Five years on, when does [____] stop being an alias? What about when all the people who love him call him the latter? He can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken in a loving tone.

It's 2023. After finishing the course, he became a kindergarten teacher. His health is... fine. He developed a twitch for a while a few years ago, but that went away. The pain never leaves him. He's never been happier. The kids and their parents love him, one of them especially, and he married her. He does crafts with them. Draws superheroes with them. Lets them spin on the chairs if they want, but patches them up when they fall. On his next birthday, Jesse will be 40. He is just starting to go gray.

[im-out-of-it]

after london is shut down basically and everyone groups up in teams, why is it just the couples together???????

I love thomastair and I want them to have unlimited moments together but can you see Alastair and Ari teaming up? Ari asking Alastair how Thomas is handling losing Kit and Alastair addresses the concerns and then asks how Anna is????? also both of them have much in common. they are POC, Alastair is gay while Ari is a lesbian, they were tied to Charles at some point, have toxic fathers, Alastair lost his, and let’s be real, ari’s is just dead to her lmao I just feel like they would bond so well!!!! TRAUMA BONDING FOR THE WIN!!!!!!!

and we don’t really get many scenes with Thomas and Anna. I want to see them interact and consul each other during their times of grief. even just as cousins!!!! I can’t recall any time where we see just Thomas and Anna bond

Jesse and Ari or/and Grace and Ari are also an interesting matchup. and I have zero hate when it comes to couples bonding but everything is done in such a hurry in the end that it feels that nothing was accomplished. so much energy and time is wasted on the worst tropes that when you have the aftermath of everything that’s happened, you’re out of time for the most part

I think that is something that is one of the worst feelings of this series is that it could’ve been really good. I love period pieces and especially when lgbt+ couples are featured but I especially hate when it’s the same tropes being overused and everything is hurried because of it. I say this all the time but this series had the potential to be really good!!!! and you’d think of writing the same shit for twenty years that I don’t know, maybe you’d take a writing class or try to improve your craft?

but I also would love more moments of the couples bonding. Ari and Anna are vastly undeveloped, many things are left out with alastair and Thomas. Matthews arc goes downhill once James gets the girl, and so many other things. just so many opportunities thrown out in my opinion

[emometalhead]

I finally finished Better Call Saul, and I need a place to house my overall thoughts.

• I hate Chuck. If Charles McGill has no haters, then I am dead.

• There are some characters in the BCS/BB universe who were in situations they didn't deserve. Chuck isn't one of them. He was horrible to Saul. He lived to spite him and keep him down. His last words to his BROTHER were "you never mattered all that much to me". Like WTF man!?!? Chuck deserved everything he got and worse. I don't feel bad in the slightest.

• Francesca quite literally got Saul in the divorce, and I kind of feel bad. She was so enthusiastic and sweet when she first started working at Wexler-McGill, and by the time she's solely Saul's employee her attitude has completely flipped. All of that being said, she's an icon.

• It was so nice seeing Mike on-screen again. He was one of my favorite characters in Breaking Bad, and his death feels the worst to me out of the main characters. It was interesting to learn a bit more about his background and to see him interact more with his family. I also enjoyed seeing his dynamic with Gus develop.

• Speaking of Gus, pretty much all of his actions in BCS seem on par with his character in BB. He took down Lalo in a pretty bad*** way, and that was awesome. I'm sad they only let him be gay for a fleeting moment though beyond other characters making fun of him for it.

• Nacho 😭. From the second Nacho first walked onto the screen, I knew there was only one way his story could end. His death still made me sad! Even though I anticipated it, the manner in which he died was really unexpected and more abrupt than I would've thought. He's a character whose consequences were the clear result of his own actions, but I still feel a bit bad.

• Like Nacho kind of had the Walt thing going on (he was good at his job, and he liked it), but I can't help but think if he wasn't being used+threatened by both sides that he genuinely would've gotten himself out. It's clear how much he cared about his dad, and I do truly feel that he wanted to make his dad proud (even after losing his trust/respect after joining the cartel).

• Manuel Varga, man 😭. Bruh. He hurt me. I feel so awful for him. He knew his son was never going to make it out of the cartel. He knew. No one should ever have to brace themselves like that. My brain did not enjoy thinking about Mike, who was still very emotional about the loss of his own son, having to go tell another dad about his son's death. That was some well written and emotionally painful television.

• Lalo was an interesting character! He was intense and insane, but not entirely unhinged like Tuco. It was interesting to see how his rivalry with Gus fueled Gus' passion for his craft. His death scene was a good one. Damn about him being buried under the lab though! I was NOT expecting that at all. It's very crazy to know that Gus had Walt and Jesse cooking above his former rival's body.

• I know I've said a few things were unexpected already, but I really was not prepared to lowkey feel bad for Howard Hamlin by the end of the show. He was a jerk. He was not a good person. I still don't think he deserved to be buried with his murderer under a meth lab.

• It was awful that Howard would send Kim out of her office into doc review when he was mad at her. That is immature and unprofessional to a high degree. Kim was justified in feeling angry towards him. Saul was also justified in feeling angry about Howard blindly following Chuck's rule. I do believe that if it wasn't for Chuck, Howard would've hired Saul (sorry, Jimmy) as a lawyer for HHM once he passed the bar. I thought Saul's Howard copy billboard thing was funny, and to be completely honest I don't even mind that he threw the bowling balls on his car. The character assassination with the fabricated drug addiction went too far though, especially considering it lead to his death. Howard was a jerk, but he didn't deserve the ending he received.

• Kim Wexler kept surprising me. At the beginning of the show, I tried to predict where all of the non-Breaking Bad characters would end up. I could not have possibly predicted any of the decisions Kim would make. I love a girl boss, but she sabotaged her own career several times in order to execute revenge plots. I was honestly excited to just she her be a successful lawyer at the beginning, but alas that is not the type of show this is.

• Kim's "I was having too much fun" speech broke my heart. It was pretty easy to see how Kim and Saul's relationship was a "we can make each other worse" situation. I really had expected their relationship to end sooner though, and getting married was absolutely the wrong decision. It was crazy seeing how Saul just fully shifted into Saul Goodman mode after Kim left him.

• Last but not least, the man himself. I enjoyed Saul's character in BB. He's annoying and extravagant, but he's fun. He added a little whimsy to the show. I enjoyed that we got to see the "Kevin Costner" moment that he mentioned in BB. I appreciated getting more of his background and seeing how he interacted with non-criminal people for a time. Bob Odenkirk is a good actor, and I'm a little sad that I'm done seeing Saul on my screen. (Even if I made fun of all of his ridiculous suits and ties.)

• Overall, I really liked the show! I had heard good things, and I was looking forward to watching it after my recent rewatch of Breaking Bad. Better Call Saul did not disappoint! It was entertaining. It had a good blend of drama, action, and comedy. I'm sure I'll end up rewatching it down the line.

[bread-squid-uwu]

What's the crafting dead?

A really REALLY old minecraft roleplay series created by sgcbarbierian, a bunch of other mc youtubers were in it as well, like aphmau, redvacktor, yourpalross, etcetera.

It's exactly what it sounds like, youtubers roleplaying an apocalypse in minecraft, but it's not technically a typical zombie apocalypse because the zombies were created through human experiments done by..... some scientist villain

also there's a cannibal guy

It's absolutely nothing like mys/mcd, everyone in it plays just themselves as a character, like Red the cannibal cult leader, or like Mithzan Max that one weird guy who's immune to the zombies and just wants to play uno with someone, Jess even plays as JESS and not some version of Aphmau.

Uhh more rambling in the tags idk

[dryadgurrl]

People I'd Like To Know Better

I was tagged by @great-exhibition-of-1851

Last Song: United Health by Jesse Welles - I am obsessed with this gentleman who seems to have stepped out of an earlier decade and just rolled with it by doing what he was already doing (protest songs that are easy to sing along to) just with today's current events

Favorite Color: Green, all the greens (except chartreuse, it knows what it did)

Last Book: I'm currently working on Sunshine by Robin McKinley, I'm honestly not sure if the last one I finished prior to this was Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle, or if it was the Stranger Things Choose Your Own Adventure book, both were good.

Last Movie: Uhhhh… good question, I haven't actually sat down to watch a movie in a LONG time. Wonka, maybe? That's the last one I fully remember watching anyway (it was delightful, I'm not sure what everyone was so upset about, the character names were Very Dahl and I actually liked the songs, and Timmy Chardonnay is a believable younger version of Gene Wilder's slightly-more-unhinged Wonka)

ETA: I LEGITERALLY JUST WATCHED PACIFIC RIM WITH THE DOG A FEW WEEKS AGO FFS SELF!

Last TV Show: …Ghost Adventures. Okay LOOK. Roomie and I do Craft Time™ in the midmorning/early afternoon, and we put on the ghost-hunter ding-dongs because we can focus on what we're doing and still yell at them for being stupid as hell.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Depends on the thing! And on my mood! I do gotta be careful with spicy though because if it's got chili oil/flakes or if it's capsicum-spicy I can't eat it bc I'm sensitive to peppers (not quite an allergy, but something like it)

Last Thing I Googled: "Freaks and Geeks We've Got Spirit" - I was looking up the cast to see why I recognized a side character (it's because it was baby Shia LeBouf)

Relationship Status: people still have those?

Looking Forward To: Getting this broken tooth out of my head finally.

Current Obsessions: Jesse Welles as previously mentioned, but also Dead Boy Detectives (this show has everything okay? I've gone on a Stefon rant about it before, I don't need to do so here, you've all seen my descent into madness. Still fully obsessed with Eddie Munson too, though and slightly obsessed with the Burger King cheesy tots, so, that's where my brain's at.

I'm bad at remembering which of y'all I already know things about, so if you see this and want to participate, consider yourself tagged!

[kitkatt0430]

For the AU headcanon game, AU in which Savitar is someone other than Barry? 👀

So I do remember various theories about Savitar's identity and one of them was Eddie. Which... I did not like that theory, so I'm not gonna go that way.

If it was someone the team knew already, then Eobard is the obvious candidate. In the comics, he's made himself look like Barry a few different ways and so there could be a convoluted plot going on that way, but... they've had enough Eobard Thawne as the bad guy on the show, I wanna speculate on someone new.

So the comics Savitar - New Earth version - was a Cold War pilot whose real identity was never discovered. While at top speed in his fighter plane, he was struck by lightning and survived the crash in hostile territory. This could be updated to him being an air force test pilot for an experimental craft using Dominator tech - foreshadowing the Dominator attack xover event later that season - that gets struck by lightning mid test. The test is classed a failure and the craft is unrecoverable - the man who becomes Savitar is assumed dead but of course he isn't.

Savitar therefor isn't obsessed with killing Iris - his existence doesn't depend on her. Instead perhaps Iris' investigation into Savitar's origins puts her in danger as he doesn't want anyone to know who he used to be - maybe he doesn't even remember and having his identity revealed would detract from the story he's selling the cult he's been creating.

Perhaps Alchemy as a stage one/first half of season boss with Savitar being hinted at until he's revealed at the mid season finale. Savitar could still be the man behind Alchemy, with Julian being unaware that he's been brainwashed to take on the persona of Alchemy under specific triggers. To de brainwash Julian, they bring in Hartley who - in this timeline - used a hypnotic flute in addition to his gloves. Julian thus has to come to terms both with what he did under the brainwashing and with the fact that he is a meta... that it was his rejection and self-hatred over being a meta that gave Savitar the in he needed to control Julian in the first place.

Part of the season's focus is on Barry having to accept that he has no idea how much the changes to the timeline are his fault and how much is stuff that was already gonna happen and he just... didn't know things were leading that way behind the scenes.

Revealing Frost's real origins in this season. Caitlin, panicking, goes to her mom for help and things with Carla eventually unravel to the reveal of Icicle. Frost has to choose between teaming up with Icicle or siding with Caitlin's friends... and chooses Icicle. Only to quickly realize she's in over her head and she turns to Caitlin for advice. The two of them form a truce to defeat Icicle and rejoin Team Flash by surprise!!! during the final Savitar vs Flash fight at the end of the season, which would also include Jesse and Wally as well as Savitar's cult.

Savitar would definitely try to recruit Icicle and Frost into his cult, but I don't see them having any of it. Icicle has his own god complex of a sort going on and Killer Frost just doesn't like him or trust him after Caitlin's experiences with Zoom and the Reverse Flash. If you've met one evil Speedster, you've met them all.

One of the things I did like about show!Savitar was that he was a fallen hero - I'm a Tales game series fan, i love fallen heroes as villains, that's basically the main villain of every Tales game and I eat it up every time. So I think part of the investigation into Savitar would be the reveal that he was a highly decorated hero and he saved a lot of lives. That's why he was tapped for the project. But after being essentially left for dead and his amnesia, Savitar grew to feel he was owed the accolades and devotion and it all warped into the god complex he has now. Forcing him to face his past isn't exactly a tomato in the mirror moment but he's torn between horror over who he's become and his desire for security and safety through the power he's accumulated.

[tcda]

i didn't even bring up how jess came back and told shelby she wanted to meet her and has heard of how great she is. yuri crumbs? in my crafting dead?

[steampunkwillow]

TCD in DND

Unfortunately, I am rewatching SGC Barbarian's "The Crafting Dead" series and am cursed with thoughts that I must share with the universe. These are my take on what my favorite characters from this show would be class wise in dnd. These are very increasingly about vibes and not fighting styles in the show. Nick: Champion fighter with the sharpshooter feat. This one I feel requires no explanation. He uses mele more than other characters and deals finishing blows more than any other character. Also, after being shot by ghetto in the later seasons he heals remarkably fast for what happened. Ghetto: Ancestral guardian barbarian with a few levels in Oath of vengeance paladin. Oath of vengeance is mainly because of Jordan, he's constantly seeking vengeance in a way that isn't normally seen in barbarians and it fits the character. The Ancestral guardian barbarian is one, because unlike some of the other core characters Ghetto has had points where he's kinda flown off the handle and lost himself to rage (understandably imo), and two! Ancestral guardians take on a more defensive role in parties and i think that fits his personality very well. Shark: Unfortunately, a hunter ranger. LISTEN I LOVE HIM I SWEAR but he's not nearly sneaky enough to be a rouge and not up front enough to be a fighter. He does a great job at firing from a distance and is honestly kinda underrated in regards to combat. This one is more vibes based than the other two but still fitting I think. AK: Oath breaker Paladin. Due to his military past and his kind of non association with his past but expertise and knowledge with weaponry combined with his murky past makes for a convincing oath breaker. Possibly with some levels in just straight up fighter or monk but a heavy base in Paladin. Jess: Wild magic sorcerer. Jess wasn't in combat really enough for me to get a good grasp on this so this is purely just opinion based in her personality and quotes. Lucky, a bit trigger happy, chaotic. I think it fits fairly well.

Barney: College of Valor bard and ranger multiclass. Barney is pretty charismatic and colorful as far as characters go for this series. He's really upbeat in a way that tends to cheer up other characters and a lot of his best ideas/moments involve him in that role. College of Valor also adds some martial abilities to bards so I think that it fits. The ranger multi is mainly due to the crossbow, i'm not going to lie.

Sky: Barbarian. berserker barbarian if you really want to get specific. While Ghetto has done reckless things in rage before, it's never as often or as reckless as sky's tended to be.

Ross: Circle of spores druid and Death cleric. Mainly because of the zombies you can make with it. it fits his unhinged-ness.

Red: Great old one Warlock. Crazy. He's crazy.

Uni and Major Grey: Both are Order Paladins. Mainly due to continued military association/duties.

Cory: Oathbreaker. FOR VERY DIFFERENT REASONS THAN AK. While ak feels more in the oathbreaker path for breaking away from the military, cory is an oatbreaker because heee's a traitor.

These are just my opinions, I just really like this show and wanted to finally write stuff about them. :D Thank you for reading!

[ender-niffler]

Slowly have been falling back into my mcsm hyperfixation, though it’s kinda on brand with me and Minecraft stuff

So!

Here are my headcanon designs for Jesse and Lukas! Jesse has the odd purple stuff on him cause of- Y’know, coming in close contact with the wither storm?

I like the idea that survivors from inside of the witherstorm have permanent side effects/looks on em, Jesse is no acceptation to this! His biggest change where his eyes changing colors, going from his usual bright green to the dark purple!

(They might also have the ability to slightly glow at night? Like the Endermen and Witherstorm are depicted in game to have?)

As for Lukas I wanted him to have the look of someone who’s been around the block (ha) a few times, like he’s actually done some adventuring?

He has bags around his legs and such to carry supplies for books or to carry around food/water, cause that’s- Y’know important! (And Jesse may forget to eat every now and then, because he got too busy with work)

Uhmmm I have more mcsm stuff I’ve made/am cooking up? I also have more Steve legends stuff I’m making, and stuff for The crafting dead

All the fun stuff! :D