#or his ass is being EATEN TF OUT

[gauntletgirlie]

“I said harder.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches

Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that

Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way

But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights

Regardless of how powerful you are

I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass

Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass

Unless of course you ask him to

He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do

THE POINT IS-

It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards

You can take a damn walk by yourself

You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband

So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you

But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it

Fucking holy weapons

That's new

Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess

*spits out blood*

Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there

He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???

Oh they're so fucked

So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you

And you do look pretty

Keep your damn hands off

Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you

If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner

Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news

Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??

BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!

But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-

Makes this face:

Oh he's getting his wife back

RIP Angel's phone 😭

He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried

"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"

Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down

It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about

On the inside he is VERY ANGRY

Even if they do bring you back he still eats them

Fuck them he never promised them anything

They took and HURT HIS WIFE

If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten

Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house

Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all

But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food

Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️

Damn this is really doing it for me

Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating

"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"

He begs to differ

"Anything for you, my dear."

Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile

Le kiss

Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage

Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm

"Now let's get you home, my darling~"

Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you

You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!

You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together

Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again

Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him

He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too

Don't remind him

Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it

[witless-winion1]

Reread your fic and it got me thinking:

God Games reprise/parody but it's the crew in the afterlife discussing whether to help Odysseus during 600 strike. Different arguments and stuff but same musical structure.

After getting Perimedes but to the tune of the Aphrodite name intro in God Games stuck in my head, I need to share this concept with someone. Uh, Polities is Athena and the one in Odysseus's defense. Eurylochus gets Ares' bit (the Ares, Ares intro chant is Euryl-ochus). Elpenor gets Apollo's part. Idk who the others are. Zeus's bit is Hades because they're trying to convince him to let them leave the Underworld temporarily to go kick his brother's ass (except he's not a sore loser).

oh my god

oh my god

OH MY GOD

OH MY-

HOLY SHIT THATS-

wiaitwoaiyeaitwaitwaitwait

H A N G ON

Thank you for rereading my fanfic!!! :)

I feel like Eurylochus would be better as Hephaestus because he has MANY MIXED FEELINGS that cancel out to become a real emotional neutrality, like Hephaestus’s stoic neutrality, and both are one push away from deciding in the other’s favor. Does that make sense? I’m incomprehensible when excited

There’s not enough named men in EPIC to fill every role, so we might have to get…creative…

Thank you, you’ve cursed my brain to loop ✨~Periiimeeddeeesss~✨ or elPEnor 🦜

Zeus- Hades

Athena- Polites

Apollo- Elpenor (argument: Ody didn’t care enough to notice when he died on Circe’s island) (counter argument is that he was stressed tf out and still high on moly, he wasn’t great at counting heads, also it was Elpenor’s fault for getting drunk, like how Athena basically says “the sirens were trying to kill him, you dolt”)

Hephaestus- Eurylochus (the argument is literally the same as Hephaestus’s, but he’s on the verge of tears) (Poli just kinda murmurs something about it being many people’s fault, including Eury’s, and then hugs him, and Eury just barely chokes out his agreement)

Aphrodite- Perimedes (argument: is sacrificed six men to Scylla! And he gestures to six traumatized souls in the corner— counter argument is that there was no other way unless they’d all rather get thrashed by Poseidon instead of only six being eaten by Scylla) (or maybe he just points out how stupid it was to fix himself to the Cyclopes, and Poli goes “..a guy can make mistakes, can’t he? He’s just a man…”

Ares- ……an older, gruffer solider that’s bitter with Ody for just giving into Zeus’s demand to choose instead of using his Buff Brain like he has been this whole time (with the counter-argument that it’s LITERALLY ZEUS, KING OF GODS)? Or Hades pulls up a Trojan guard/solider that got killed, but idk how Polites would convince him…

Hera- I’m thinking either a) Persephone (because Zeus used his wife and also Persephone wanted to be included and Hades wasn’t gonna tell her no), and she’s already kinda “I’m fine with letting him go but I wanna mess with this funny little pancake boy” or b) a killed siren that Hades fetches, but he accidentally grabs a younger one that had no idea what was really happening during the massacre and is really confused so she just goes “uh-um, who? Some guy who wants to get home? Sure go help him but first you gotta sing with me” (like Hera’s disco battle)

it’s be fun if we could add Tiresias, Anticlea, or Astyanax in, but that probably wouldn’t work because

Tiresias- I can see him being irritated by Ody screaming in his face like an angry owl; he would be a good option, but I can’t see him fitting anywhere here

Anticlea:- are you kidding? That’s just Hades rigging the game in Polites’ favor. She’d say “YES GO GET MY BOY BACK HOME. EVERYONE’S WWAAAAIIITTIIIINNNNGGG FOR HIM” before Polites could even open his mouth. The entire verse would literally just be harmonizing the Waiting motif.

Astyanax: it’s a baby.

I’m actually so tempted to write the song or a fanfic about this, bestie you’re a fucking genius I hope you understand that

if anybody has any ideas or points, please please share them!!! This is such a cool concept

[lowkeyrobin]

Hey pooks:3 can you do a thing with the VK’s (from red) with like a reader who is reckless, childish, stupid, and just has no filter and like reader is like the little sibling of the group? Maybe there like a bit younger then the VK’s to tytytytytyty:333 (all platonic)

oo okay I can try! ; I turned this into a pref because 💀 ; anyway thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; I don't write for hades or uliana unless it's like a group oneshot thing so I didn't add them here, but I did add red cause she technically is a vk and I felt bad for the small cast lol. but if anyone else sees this and wants to request a preference, you can say vks + bridget and charming if u want them cause I'll prob just sort red in there already

RISE OF RED ; reckless

includes ; hook, morgie, maleficent & red

warnings ; language

masterlist

JAMES HOOK

lowkey finds the lack of filter hilarious

he also finds the childish, reckless antics adorable in a platonic way

like he will be watching and supporting

you're like his little sibling

he kinda leads you around n stuff and whispers into your ear of what to do

like he pushes you into situations where you can cause mischief, and it's funny asf

in those Twitter aus I usually see on tiktok, he'll post videos of you doing stupid shit and caption them

and usually the others will laugh or leave dumbass comments

he loves u tho ur like his little sidekick

fuck smeed he let his hand get eaten off by that dumbass crocodile

ur cooler anyways

MORGIE LE FAY

he's not inherently evil, just trying to fit in

so when you're under his wing, you're not doing nessecarily bad things

he'll watch you do dumb shit and speak your mind and laugh, but no assholery

he jumps into little pranks and stuff sometimes cause he has some cool powers

he really does see you as a little sibling that he never got growing up

it really does fill the lonely void inside his heart 💔

he finds your reckless antics hilarious but he's also worried about you mentally because how tf are you so stupid

MALEFICENT

she's like your whole ass mother

she's teaching you all the ways to be wicked

she's teaching you all about dark magic and fairies and shit

she finds the childish behavior and recklessness funny for a while but there's a point where it's a tad annoying

just act as her little evil sidekick already 😔

but she definitely drags you along everywhere and parades you around

"y/n, be a dear and show them what I taught you"

and you turn some rando kid into a fuckin toaster or some shit

"not quite... you'll get it with some practice"

she's really a proud mother when you get shit right and whatnot

she does find the whole zero filter hilarious tho

you've eaten her up a few times 😭🙏

RED OF HEARTS

you're literally the little sibling she never had growing up 💔

you being so childish, reckless, and open with your thoughts makes it sm better

being princess of Wonderland sucks asscheeks and it's sooooo boring

but ur like the light of her life

you're always out with her when she's causing trouble in the night

your lack of filter makes her laugh outside the guidelines (noon-4pm) (idk got this from the book)

she's always getting you into trouble since you want to so bad

you do some reckless ass shit sometimes 💀 gang do not get caught...

she 100% supports the trouble you get in

ur number one supporter

[dropitlikeapeong]

First sleepover with Bf!Hunter

Some long headcannons for having a sleepover with this silly.

Genre: Fluffy shit, idk. I tried.

This is kinda long and im sorry. also its not proofread. woo hoo.

Reader's got a roommate named Rebecca because I said so. she disappears halfway through and im lazy so you (the reader) can decide if she just went to her room, went out to a party or if y'all threw her off the balcony.

I hope you enjoy, if you do, like or reblog and let me know what you think.

so this dude managed to rizz you up and now y'all dating

yay, congrats

you two have gone on several dates and shared a lot of special moments in the short time y'all have been together

yet you've never had a sleepover together

until now of course

his work schedule is done now, so bros got some time on his hands

you on the other hand are working overtime so you'll be home a little late.

but its okay, your roommate Rebecca has the day off so she'll let him in.

now you spend the rest of the bus ride home thinking about this sleepover and now the nerves are starting to kick in cause hes about to see your private space

what if he thinks your room is too messy?

what if he hates your snoring? (if u not a snorer this doesn't apply to you)

what if you kick him in your sleep?(if u not a sleep ninja see previous bracket note)

come to think of it, does he even feel comfortable sharing a bed with you? what if he wants to sleep elsewhere?

what if him and Rebecca don't get along??

or worse, they get along too well??

what if he falls for rebecca(she's gay btw)??

anyways theres no more time to stress cause you've reached your stop

you enter your apartment and Becca and Hunter are in the kitchen making dinner and chatting up a storm

Bro is invested in Rebecca's story about her coworkers that got caught fooling around in the storage room

till he noticed you of course

"babe! you're back!"

and he's scurrying over to you all smiley, greeting you with hugs and kisses

getting you a glass of water and asking about your day

just being a sweet caring bf

Once dinner is finished and you've all eaten, its decided that you gotta wash the dishes since you had the audacity to come home so late

but your lovely boyfriend REFUSES to let you do all that alone after such a tiring day, so y'all clean up together

and you're annoyingly cute while you're doing it

him flicking dish waterdrops at you(ew)

you swatting at him with the drying cloth

laughing together and making silly little jokes

y'all are cute fr

once that's been dealt with, you two can finally settle down in the living room to watch a movie

all cuddled up under one big blanket cause wdym "we don't have to share if you're uncomfortable, or if its too awkward"??

you're his baby? why wouldn't he wanna have you all snuggled in his arms all night?

but yeah, y'all picked a boring ass movie so instead of watching that shit, he starts watching your face

you're somehow a little too invested in the movie to notice him staring at you

but you eventually do notice(took you long enough)

now you're nervous again

cause whys he looking at you like that

like you're the most precious and beautiful gem he's ever seen(cause you are babes)

then he's leaning in to pepper your face with little kisses

and you're giggling trying to move away (but not really-)

and he stops before kissing your lips

cause he's a gentleman, and wants to ask first

so he does

and you let him

and y'all spend your night on the couch kissing each other sweetly, him whispering little 'I love yous' into your ear as you fall asleep.

then y'all wake up with sore backs and stiff necks cause why tf are you losers sleeping on the couch, you know that shits uncomfortable :)

[sincerelyverena]

Charles and reader “smut” except they’re clumsy and awkward and it’s wholesome because both of them are just so goofy

And let’s be real, Charles is totally all talk and 0 game, he brags about being so experienced but he’s full of shit and he’s really just an awkward nervous goofball

⟡⁺ FOUR WALLS

this was SO fun to write omg. thank u anon! <3

. . . CHARLES ROWLAND X FEM!READER ‘cause i want to make you feel like its your first time.’ @andforthecoating

inbox is always open for requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒you and charles have sex for the first time, and neither of you know how the hell to go about it.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut﹐established relationship﹐unserious sex ﹐choking ﹐charles has zero idea how to fuck ﹐reader doesnt know any better﹐love my babies so proud of them﹐reader questioning why tf she started dating him in the first place﹐'CHARLES FOR FUCKS SAKE’﹐ this prompt made me giggle and kick my feet i love you anon

Soft giggles were prominent in the air of your room. You fumbled to close the door behind you and Charles, hands searching for the door handle as you broke away from your boyfriend. You were barely able to pop the lock before his lips were on your own again.

The two of you were dying (except for Charles, he’s already dead) to get away from your group of friends to have some time alone. The wait was almost excruciating, as Charles whispered sweet-nothings into the crook of your ear all night. His hand gripping your knee a little too tightly, your thigh pressing together underneath the table your friends sat around.

Charles’s lips were hot against your own. It was hungry, ferocious. He was like a starved man who hadn’t eaten for years and you loved every second of it. Sloppily, his mouth derails toward your neck. Single-handedly pinning your lower back against your door, even though the bed was right there.

‘Proper doll, you are.’ Charles murmured between kisses. He was bound to leave many marks on the surface of your throat. ‘Proper.’

The sound of Charles’s jacket hitting the ground caused a sense of anticipation, and adrenaline, to spike. You two of you had only made out with heated, sloppy kisses as if the two of you were teenagers again. Which was the closest thing to sex the two of you had ever experienced, before that, your first time was so long ago you barely remembered how to act in a situation like this.

Charles’s hands travelled downward, past your torso and toward the curve of your ass. His palms fisted the bottoms you wore, before he took your leg with one hand, lifting it toward his waist and pinning it there with his fingers.

You glanced downward, confusion scribbled on your face.

Charles must’ve sensed your hesitance before he pulled back. ‘C’mon, let me carry you.’

‘OHH.’ OK, that makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Putting your faith into Charles, you draped a second leg around his hips. Charles swept you off of your feet as he held you up with his hands. Yet, he was knocked off his feet himself. Charles lost his balance, stumbling backward. You gripped the back of his next, almost painfully as you let out a strangled shout.

‘Holy shit, Charles.’

‘I’m fine. I’m fine.’

Eventually, the two of you made it onto the bed. You were sent onto the mattress with a soft oomph leaving your lips as your back hit the surface and Charles scrambled on top. The collared shirt he wore was slightly unbuttoned, chain-dangling. It would’ve been a hot sight if Charles didn’t look immensely uncomfortable while adjusting his pants.

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a giggle as you saw how painfully hard Charles was, the fabric of the pants he wore suffocating his groin. ‘Need help?’

He flushed a little. ‘Maybe.’

You reached downward. With the pad of your fingers, you took a second to unbutton the fabric and unhook his suspenders. Charles gave a strangled grunt as you pushed his pants down, past his thighs and knees. While you continued to work on his boxers, Charles stripped of his button-up and white wifebeater that lay beneath. Until he was completely bare, just for you.

You leant back to begin to rid of your clothes as Charles proceeded to watch. He was propped on his knees, his palm moving to the length that lay out before him. Rolling his fingers around his cock, moving his hand up and down gradually.

‘Dead fit.’ Charles had grunted under his breath, eyes refusing to advert from you as you tossed your clothes aside before you began to work on your undergarments. He sped up, hips stuttering as the pad of his fingers worked faster.

Your abdomen burnt with a foreign heat as you watched Charles get off at the sight of you naked. Your lacy bra fell away, revealing the mound of your breasts that made him flush and continue to palm himself until a soft gasp escaped the scrawl of his throat.

You watched, almost entranced, as long spurts of thick semen escaped his tip. Wetting the top of your sheets, something you shortly realise that you’ll have to clean afterwards. ‘You came already?’

‘I mean, just look at you.’ Charles spurted between soft breaths of effort. He snatched a tissue from your nightstand, moving to clean himself up.

You flushed, like, really flushed. ‘Oh, shuddup.’

You were suddenly aware of how bare you were, you hadn’t been this vulnerable with Charles in this manner yet. You looked downward, stifling the smile that threatened to tug your lips. Reaching forward, you took the tissue into your own hands and helped Charles to soak up the leftover cum. ‘You brought condoms, yeah?’

Charles snapped back to reality, chest still weaving from his climax. He placed a single hand on the firm skin of your thigh and nodded, his other searching the pockets of his pants. He drew out a couple of rubbers, fingers rushing to rip it open.

As your boyfriend slipped the condom onto his cock, you leant back against the headboard of your bed. You felt a sudden nervousness grip your chest, this was really happening.

Charles propped himself up on his knees again. This time, right in front of you. His lips tugged into a soft, yet almost endearing, smirk. His earrings jingled slightly as he ducked his head. One arm is pressed up against the headboard, right above your noggin. 

‘I’ve been waiting ages for this.’ He murmured into your ear, watching as you would part your legs open for him. A hungry glint caught in his eyes as he shifted a little closer toward you in an attempt to line himself up with your entrance.

You looked down at his flaccid cock, pointing a judgemental finger. ‘This is why you shouldn’t have cum yet, Charles.’

Charles paused, his stare dropped downwards. And that cocky, yet sultry look he wore dissipated into surprise. ‘Oh.’ That is all that he said before his legs stuttered and failed him. Single-handedly causing him to topple right onto you.

You were caught between a gasp of surprise and a roar of laughter as Charles proceeded to just lay on top of you. And as much as you delighted in skin-to-skin contact, he was crushing you. You slapped a palm on his chest.

Charles cuddled up to you further. ‘Maybe I’ll just lay here. You’re proper comfortable.’

‘DARLING. I CAN’T BREATHE.’

A few minutes passed by and Charles finally stopped clinging onto your entirety like a koala. He stood himself up on his knees, his now-erection rigid between his legs. You laid back against the bed, again. And you couldn’t help but notice Charles grew quiet, eyes rounded slightly.

‘You’re quiet.’ You remarked.

Charles adverted his eyes from your glistening womanhood to your face. A soft, goofy grin tugged at his lips, revealing the pearliness of his teeth. ‘Nah. Just thinking how bloody good I’m gonna fuck ya.’

Your abdomen jolted with arousal at the dirty drawl of his accented words. You ran your tongue over your lips, you were undeniably nervous as you watched Charles line himself up with your entrance. ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

It took a moment, his motions were sloppy, and uneven as he attempted to prepare himself.

‘Hol’ on.’ He murmured to himself.

Finally, you felt Charles’s cock begin to enter you. You spread your legs a little further, wincing as you felt his entirety sink inside. It was gradual as you adjusted to his thickness. You laid your head back, you had forgotten how uncomfortable a dick was at first.

‘You all right, love?’ Charles spoke up as he was almost fully inside of you. He paused in his movements, letting a good quarter of his cock hang out. His eyes roundened, voice stressed. Looking as if he was ready to pull out. ‘Did I enter the wrong hole?’

‘Charles. There’s only one hole.’

At last, he was fully inside of you. Your legs dangled around his hips. He began to move, slowly at first. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but soon every shift he made had you gasping a little. Until Charles almost – and accidentally – pulled out completely.

‘Bloody hell.’ Charles muttered under his breath, fumbling to stick it back in.

You facepalmed, mentally. ‘Charles.’ You scolded.

His arms propped himself up by the headboard, caging you in as he began to move again. His chain dangling in front of your face. Charles grunted, dark lips slightly agape as he moved for breath with each rut of his hips. After accidentally slipping out a few times, he began to stick it to a steady rhythm that dragged a few moans from your mouth.

Charles moved his lips to your own, sloppy kisses moving down to your neck as he continued to move. He jolted his head back upward, accidentally hitting it on the lower side of your jaw. The two of you stop moving, in sudden pain.

You rubbed your jaw. ‘CHARLES.’

‘I’M SORRY.’

You two decided that changing positions would be for the best. You had yourself balanced atop Charles’s lap, legs on either side of his own. His dick is deep inside of you now. You hadn’t exactly ridden anybody before, and that fact alone made you nervous.

Your legs shook slightly as you started to bounce. Up and down. ‘Is this okay?’

Charles reached upward. He was laid back in the bed, looking elated as he watched you on top of him. His fingers brushed past loose strands of hair dangling in your face, pushing them back. ‘Bang on perfect.’ And you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the sex.

He was talking about you.

You continued the movements, feeling that nervousness ease as you got into a steady rhythm that had your back arching. Soft waves of pleasure moved throughout you. Charles’s eyes darkened notably, a grunt or two escaping his mouth. 

‘Saddle up, horsey.’ Charles teased, his words somewhat breathless and strained. He cracked a grin, before landing a palm right on the exposed skin of your ass.

You stopped in your movements. ‘Oh, you’re just asking for it.’

Which was how the two of you took a break from whatever tedious sex the two of you were doing to tussle on the bed. Charles hovered above you, his large palm suited around your neck whilst your hand painfully tugged on the curls of his hair. Charles thought it was the perfect time to slip his girth inside of you, his fingers tightening against your throat.

His hips worked. They were sloppy and uneven, yet his cock was thick enough to hit that spot that had your eyes rolling.

Your hands unclenched from his hair, moving to his shoulders. ‘Fucking hell, keep going.’

Charles did as you said. His thrusts quickened. Sweat began to build at his temple, his hands still clenched around your neck. Your breaths were slightly rushed, yet it was painless. Your back arched absentmindedly, feeling your hips stutter and jerk.

He grunted once, then twice, before you felt something cool fill you up to the brim. ‘Erm…’

Ghost cum, seriously?

‘You can’t help yourself, can you?’ You continued to pant, grabbing his hips, keeping him planted to you. You were so damn close, moans filling the entirety of your room as Charles rode out his orgasm. Fuelling your own.

Within a few minutes, you felt your hips stutter. 

‘Charles, holy shit. Charles.’ You borderline shouted into the open air as the metaphorical dam snapped inside of you, feeling wave after wave of pleasure hit you like a current. Your fingers gripped onto his hips, fingernails sinking into his hips.

Eventually, both you and Charles had steadied yourself. He pulled out from you, deciding that the best measure was to slump onto you. Once again. Half by your side and half sprawled on the bed, his head tucked in your neck.

‘So, was that aces or what, eh?’ He sighed into the peaceful, post-orgasm silence.

You paused for a second. Your hands found his hair again, fingers massaging his scalp absentmindedly as Charles listened to your heartbeat. ‘I reckon you could do with a bit more work, darling.’

Charles gripped the curve of your waist. ‘Nah, love. I think that was all you.’

You groaned, before hitting the back of his head.

WORD COUNT: 2.1K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[vespertin-y]

OKAY I FINALLY WATCHED GRAVITY FALLS. TEN YEARS LATE I KNOW. i was expecting to have to power through a bunch of boring kid stuff to get to the actual interesting drama and i was so so wrong i locked tf in and finished it in two days. it's so good what the actual fuck. heres my thoughts on the main characters

mabel: when i was the actual target audience for this show i saw a bit of mabel while flipping through disney XD and i immediately concluded that she was annoying af and i would never watch this show because of her. i would like to repent for this evil evil take by flinging myself belly down onto shattered glass. MABEL MY BABY GIRL...if they ever put her in another Situation or Scenario ill kill someone fr. she's a little too selfish and a little too pushy sure but so genuinely KIND and SWEET and so willing to make a fool of herself to pull her dumb brother out of his head. that unicorn doesn't know jack i hope she gets everything she wants forever

dipper: if i had watched gf as a kid i would have been in very real danger of naming myself after this guy (which doesn't even work bc im not nearly as cool as him!! the woodland creatures would have eaten my ass). it would've been so easy to give him a generic gaining confidence arc but he is never a coward when it really matters and i think that's great. he may not be able to talk to a girl but he can and will beat a gnome to death with a shovel for touching his sister!!! also yeah he is extremely transgender.

stan: OUUUUUGH. STARTS SOBBING. stanley pines the man that you are. i assumed at first that his plot would be about Learning To Love but no he is 100% on board with being the world's best grunkle from minute one. he definitely fucks up sometimes (putting waddles outside comes to mind as does. The Other Thing) but he always tries his very best to fix it. every action he takes just oozes with care for his family. every time i thought he had a motivation that wasn't his family they pulled the rug out from under me and revealed that it was, in fact, just his family again. he would give everything for them. AND HE LITERALLY DOES??? im gonna vomit. he hand stitched fishing hats 😭😭😭

wendy: definitely my least favorite of the main cast im sorry wendyheads...i just feel like there isn't a lot to get into here. every time they imply there's something more going on with her or her family they just snap her right back into The Coolest Girl In The World which might be fun but it's not that interesting.

soos: SOOS MY FRIEND SOOS!!!! i wobbled on him during the middle of the show bc i felt like they were making him Genuinely Dumb instead of just a good babysitter but they pulled his characterization back around by the end i think. he is like me in that he would also die for the mystery twins without hesitation or regret 💖. a lesser show would've been really mean about soos but gf is BASED and SOOSPILLED so he gets what he deserves. he does not have to lose weight or drop his "childish" interests or stop living with his grandma to WIN AT LIFE. awesome girlfriend! dream job! big house! stan using that boat to hunt down his bio dad and kill him, probably!

ford: ill be honest and admit i hated this guy at first but eventually i learned to live laugh love about his massive incredibly fragile ego ruining everything all the time and now i am a big ford enjoyer. what a FREAK oh my god. he believed his journals to be capable of destroying the world and still refused to destroy them because they're His Life's Work????? he had the painfully obvious option to tell bill he didn't know the equation and stall for time and chose instead to say that OBVIOUSLY he knows it he's the SMARTEST MAN ALIVE he's just not TELLING YOU 😤 and then immediately got tortured????? he spent most of his screentime projecting his relationship issues onto an Actual Child?????????? he needs to go to therapy and learn he's not the main character of the universe but he will not be doing that so i can only hope the boat fixes him. if i was stanley i'd've fed him to the shapeshifter.

bill: SIGH. YES OKAY HE'S MY FAVORITE. I KNOW I'M FUCKING PREDICTABLE DON'T @ ME. i spent 90% of his screentime cracking up and the other 10% making Homosexual Detection Eyebrows at my brother! the ideal ratio!!!!! i can't wait to get my hands on the book so i can poor little meowmeow him more efficiently. i knew i was saving that barnes & noble gift card for something important.

[magewolf-the-artist]

Ahh, Charles Brook my beloved

1. Me when I first started drawing this doodle dump: Oh golly gee brain, what should we draw first? My brain: Charles on a toddler leash with Susan holding it and looking tired Me: Wowie sounds fun! Yeah this doodle pretty much summarizes their dynamic in the Domestic K-9 AU

2. There's a graphic description of somebody being killed in the next paragraph so feel free to skip over it 

To make a long-ish story short, Charles was snooping around the backstage area as his daughter, Lily's, birthday was wrapping up, he found Susan on death's door inside the Banny animatronic and freaks tf out, Bon finds him and they play a terrifying little game of hide and seek, and just as Charles thinks he's fine, WHAM! His faces gets smashed into the floor by Bon, turning his skull into a fine mush and killing him pretty much instantly. Ironically in this AU at least, his death was the most merciful because he at least got the insta-kill treatment rather than suffering through hours or days of agony. I imagine in death, his face kinda sags forward. Kinda like a bag of sand taped to a wood plank. 

3. So semi-recently I think, Charles was confirmed to have ADHD, and I saw some doodles by @xzbat-loverzx about one of him stims being clicking a pen and I thought, "Ah yes, perfect". Not really a ton else to this doodle, except I can imagine BSI employees constantly leaving pens and pencils behind whenever they stay at the K-9 Facility

4. This one is my favorite and the one I'm the most excited to explain!

So the first few weeks or so at the K-9 facility was, to put it lightly, a fucking nightmare for Charles (and Rosemary but I'll cover that another time). He was constantly eaten away by guilt, shame, anger, fear, and sadness and generally he was an incoherent, delusional wreck, even on his good days. At some point he managed to get it into his head that he could break out of the facility by body slamming the walls which, A, they are made of solid concrete, and B, even if he did break them, he'd be greeted by an avalanche of dirt. But again, he wasn't really in his right mind at the time

Susan was kind of in a hell of her own during that time considering she'd have to be the one to repair him afterwards. Those episodes are actually the reason the plastic casing on the Boozoo animatronic's upper right arm and the left hand is missing, because at some point they sustained so damage that they just fell off. Susan didn't exactly have a ton of patience for this, and his incoherent babblings whenever she would pull him away would only make her more pissed off. This isn't entire fair to him of course, as he is not at all in his right mind, but in fairness to her, the idiot would slam himself into the walls whenever she took her eyes off of him for even a SECOND, even if it was just to retrieve tools or spare parts from the tool closet.

Eventually what happens is that Susan convinces Bon to hold him down while she goes over to the tool closet and retrieve whatever thing she needs, idk man, I'm not into robotics. When she gets back, Charles is unusually quiet and Bon is trying not to laugh his ass off. Oddly enough, he doesn't take the opportunity to make some snide comment or mock either of them while she works, he stares at the both of them silently.

Once that's done, Susan very begrudgingly thanks him for the help and, with possibly the most shit eating, Cheshire cat, smug as fuck grin, Bon replies, "That's what friends are for." And then she smacks him.

[jjjjeonww]

oh seungmin - “the quietest moments speak the loudest.”

genre - fluff ~~in which you and ode can’t help but to stick to eachother after a long day. (pulled this shit outta my ass at 2am tf. i got insomnia fr)

10:13pm.

“seungmin? i’m home!” you called out, closing the main door and looking around for your fiancé. he was currently in the kitchen, placing one of his favourite mugs back in the cabinet before heading over to you. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist as he lowered his head for his lips to meet yours. his lips parted from yours and one of his hands went up to your cheek, caressing the soft skin there. “hey darling. already ate?” seungmin asked. you nodded and tilted your head. you had a questioning look on your face. seungmin chuckled softly when he saw your expression, he knew you were silently asking if he had already eaten too. he nodded and took your hand in his, “go wash up. i’ll turn off the lights. everything else is already cleaned up and looking elegant, just like you my angel. except you aren’t cleaned up yet” you rolled your eyes at the ‘except you aren’t cleaned up yet’ part but still smiled. he placed a kiss to your temple before letting go of your hand to let you go wash up.

10:27pm.

your fiancé was already tucked into bed, fiddling with his fingers on his lap. when you got out of the bathroom, hair dry yet damp, face sleepy yet stunning, he couldn’t help but to think you were gonna be the trophy wife. no. you ARE gonna be the trophy wife. his lips parted when you took off your makeup, his legs making their way over to you without him realising it. “…i married a princess. a queen.” seungmin muttered out while his hands removed the makeup for you. he carried you over to the bed, now doing your skincare for you. he watched you do your skincare every night, he was completely focused on you and the steps you do. his touch was gentle and soft, almost as if he thought you were a piece of glass he was cleaning. “can’t wait for you to be ‘mrs oh’ my baby.”

11:02pm. after a long gossip session of your work and his, you were now in his arms as usual. your eyes were closed, you were slowly drifting off to sleep but seungmin was half-asleep. he was admiring your sleeping face, how you seemed so peaceful and comfortable in his arms. he placed soft pecks all over your face and you woke up smiling gently. “go to sleep honey.” you said, your voice somewhat hoarse. he replied, a bit of sass in his voice, “5 more minutes mom.” you flicked his forehead 2 times and he giggled. his eyes looked into yours and yours into his. you both had soft smiles on your faces, enjoying the silence while being in the presence of eachother. it’s not like you both didn’t have anything to say, if anything you and seungmin would be saying the most tooth-aching things to each other. it’s just that sometimes. just sometimes. (or maybe most of the time?) the quietest moments speak the loudest.

[fisheadz]

Can’t sleep to save my life rn, so I’m gonna just ramble about the SWTC AU some more. It’s been far too long since I have, and I’m going crazy. Working on another oneshot, but my artists block has receded at the cost of my motivation to write so that might take a hot minute. Spoilers for the AU plotline and just the games/show plotlines in general :/.

Still haven’t found the time or energy to rewatch TLOU, so I’m going with what I remember. Now what I CAN’T remember is if Finlay’s son is canon or fanon, but I’m pretty sure Addair’s son’s passing before the game is canon. Only pretty sure tho.

So, either Finlay takes the place of Kathleen, or Addair does. Now I really want Finlay to survive at least a bit closer to the end, or just survive all of it, and I know that Kathleen dies horribly. Just like Addair! So, I’m thinking that Addair takes Kathleen’s place, and I take Finlay back to the drawing board. His son is killed by CADAL, and he leads a rebel army to kill them and becomes a scavenger whose craving for vengeance far outweighs his moral compass.

Again, I can’t remember the order of events in the show, so we doing improv today. Caz and Billy are found by the scavs and knocked tf out, and then they’re brought to Addair who almost immediately deems them unworthy of life because Caz has Blabber-Mouth and won’t shut the fuck up even with a gun to his head. The scavs Addair put in charge of them are idiots though, and they escape and run deeper into the city with Addair and the scavs right on their trail.

Eventually they run into Brodie and Raffs, who are also planning on escaping the city. By nighttime, they’re almost out, having gone through the sewers and everything and reached the suburbs, but then they’re surrounded. Brodie ends up with the sniper rifle, Caz and Raffs are beating people up and letting the zombies help before killing those too, and Billy almost gets chowed before being saved by Brodie. Typical Brodie situation, always saving their asses.

Addair shows up, hurts Billy a bit, but then gets uno reversed and eaten. They all manage to escape and the rest is history in every sense but their nightmares.

That is all. Still debating Finlay’s role but that can wait for now.

[procuder]

what is this.

Seriously, like, what on earth is happening. What on earth is happening here. I thought it would turn out better, but no, I raised my hopes too high.

How they portray og Lloyd's character??? Like, god excuse me Lee Hyunmin-nim, but what the hell??? Are you? ???????????

At first, I didn't think it would be this bad. What makes you think that Lloyd's mistreatment of Javier for so long was simply because he didn't know what to do when he was a kid, and he always wanted to be Javier's friend? I was quite interested in Lloyd's character. So this is it. FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHAT THE HELL??????????????

It was almost good, because, of course, he felt inferior to Javier when Arcos adopted him. It's normal for a 10-year-old to feel jealous and feel like they're about to steal their affection, especially if that child looks better than them in every way. And especially if they know that they will never be like that because they don't think they are good enough. Of course, that's just his own pov btw. I already know how much his family loves him. But that's what can happen, right? Because I don't like who I am also, and I know in my heart that my family loves me, but still🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

And yes that shit happened. So 😮‍💨

BUT IF. IF. If he could think like whatever you made him in the webcomic, he would have done it a long time ago. If this were his actual character's trait, he would have done it long ago. I didn't even think he'd apologize for something like this and in this way, you know? He always thought that he would change something in his life in the next life instead of. Yeah. Whatever tf he is doing in the webcomic here. I won't argue with you that Lloyd feels guilty for his family. But. Not with Javier. He hated Javier as much as Javier hated him, and he always would. I really wonder what makes you see Lloyd like that? Great. Now people who only read webcomic will 😮‍💨😮‍💨🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ SHAKING MY HEAD.

“I'm sorry I broke that wooden sword. Actually, I want to be friends." MY ASS what????? Is this where you sacrifice so many details for?? what??? I have so many things to say, but my God. I'M DONE.

And more than that, you changed Lloyd's will just because he was reincarnated as Suho? He doesn't want to deal with human stuff anymore, and he wants to be reincarnated as a whale because he doesn't like the stuffy atmosphere of hell. Yes, that's it. Easy and simple. The funny idea of someone who has been hiding in hell for a long time and fears of being eaten by the devil. But now you have changed him to want to be reincarnated as a human again to be a better person and work harder than Suho???

Excuse me, WHAT? He wants to work hard?? What makes you think that way out of all his character? Oh my god, they also cut out the scene where Javier, despite not liking Lloyd, wishes him a good new life. Huh? Okay??

THEY EVEN CHANGED HOW TIME RUNS. What is the point. WHAT IS THE POINT??? How important is it to change it? How important is it? From 1 month = 1 day to 1 month = 1 hour?? I wonder if there's any need for you to change it. Are you making a new story or adapting it?

But considering the fact that bk_moon approved every change, then it was...okay, never mind.

Anyway this chapter is pain hold your disappointment before reading it...😭

Oh yes, more than 3 times of Hellkaros thoughts of wanting to go home were completely omitted and now Javier and Lloyd were going to find the Dragon King. Great.

:(

I want my cookies back.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Aburame Shino

(Anime only???) The Giant beetle that he’s able to summon, and the fact that he had a dream about being able to find a beetle that was completly new. It’s just such a sweet dream and i’m very happy that he got to see it become reality

(Anime only) His bond with Torune! I love these two and I wish they had gotten more time together, they’re so sweet. Torune was so supportive of Shino and kept pushing him forward, and Shino was the one who stepped up and found a way to protect himself from Tortune’s poison to ensure that he could always be near his brother 💜💜💜

(Anime only) When he just decided to start telling Naruto and Sai about himself in the middle of a mission because Naruto flat out said he didn’t know anything about him and that was unacceptable to Shino. Boy just wants to be seen, someone please see him 😭😭😭

Remember his chunin exam fight? When he straight up blew off his opponents arms? Ya, that was awesome XD Go Shino go!

Shino vs Kankuro fight. Shino was so bitter that Kankuro tapped out of their fight. He hated that he missed an opportunity to show his strength and kick ass, and he wasted no time in making up for it when the village was under attack. I love that they tied and that it highlighted both of their skills really well, and honestly i’m forever upset Shino wasn’t made a chunin because he friggen deserved that promotion,

(Anime Only) that scene where his bugs were being eaten by plant’s and he proceded to freak tf out. I love seeing Shino’s softer side. His bugs are so important to him and losing them really hurt him in a way we’ve never seen Shino hurt before. It was sweet, kind of adorable, but also heartbreaking watching him struggle through the loss of his bugs.

[monstermaster13]

Corey and Oats in..

VS Porcine Pervert

Corey and Oats really knew how to appreciate Mel and protect her, one instance in which they helped her was when she had to deal with yet another advertisement online for a fetish game, this time it was one that perverted elements of superhero comics and had heroes being brainwashed and violated by a pig-like villain known as the Porcine Pervert.

‘Ugh…that stupid pig-man. I just dealt with the previous version of this fetish game and now this stupid porno parody version of MHA comes up? Well I am sorry but I am not into degrading someone and banging them in an animalistic manner.’ ‘You tell them mommy.’ ‘This is not right and I do not like this.’

‘Let’s go and fix this!’ The duo hopped into the bedroom for a minute before pulling out an item from the bedbox which they used on the computer, opening up a portal form inside the screen which they jumped into and arrived into the world of the game.

When they arrived in the world of the game, Mel looked and was disgusted at what she saw, a ton of transfur rejects that had just emerged from a banned Roblox game that was an export of Changed, a group of dragon-women who were dressed in those ‘sexy’ halloween costumes you see every year at costume stores and gross pig-monsters dressed in fetish gear. ‘Who the hell designed this game, mods for some discord reddit with a thing for forced transformation?’

‘Yeah..ugh, more gross pig-men? I already dealt with more of these exact same freaks before, deformed overweight nerd mutants, freaking clowns, sumo wrestling demons, and jingo-ist pigs who think everything great comes from America, a bad scare 'em straight villain, and now this? Don’t those pig guys know when to quit?’ ‘Well, let’s start to teach them how to behave.’

A massively overweight pig-like villain jumped in front of them, he was very grotesque and had a messy mane of hair and scruffy hair all over his body, he was wearing a black costume that looked like he wanted to go as Venom but rather just went with a gimp from Pulp Fiction cosplay outfit. ‘What is the matter, do you not like my domain?’ ‘No we do not, look Mel is just looking for friendly TF content that does not sexualize transformation and make identity loss sexy, meanwhile you are out there parading around in that stupid gimp outfit advertising a game that kids should not know about yet.’

‘If kids play my game it is not my fault.’ ‘Oh but it is, you are the creator or the creator’s avatar in this world, you have to either admit that you are a dirty groomer for essentially grooming kids into having these things or I will hand your ass to you personally on a gold platter.’

“I’d like to see you try, pig-mutants, attack!”

“I don’t think so, let’s get them.”

Mel saw the pig-mutants in the gimp outfits and she managed to fight them off before they could put their sweaty armpit stink on her, the dragon ladies hissed and accused her of being a horrible person for kinkshaming them for their outfits only for her to grab them and stuff them all into a meat grinder, grinding them all into meat which she fed to some of the feederism pig-mutants which made them all throw up because they had eaten their friends.

She charged towards the transfur rejects and shoved them into a giant fire-pit which made them melt into a pile of goo which was then flushed down a giant toilet, followed by some of the transfur rejects turning back to normal.

Aiyido the beholder blasted them with his eye-rays, and Oats fended off some of the sexualized pony-girls with his magic, as Corey shot some spikes in the direction of the ‘fat pig spawn chamber’, taking precise aim and throwing them at the spawn chamber which exploded, destroying any and all pig spawning hives.

All of the people that had been brainwashed into being love-slaves for the perv porcine mutants, Mel then jumped into the air and onto the ground before digging her left boot into Porcine Pervert’s stomach, knocking him down onto the floor. ‘Like it or not, mister this is a family friendly show and we won’t have you showing your kinks to innocent kids.’ ‘Yeah, nobody wants to see naked pig-men or pig-men in stripper outfits.’ ‘Yeah, I hope you are rich so you can pay the high amounts of therapy bills the poor young players of this game will receive for having been exposed to this game.’

‘You are just shaming me, I am a proud horn-hog with no thoughts apart from wanting to corrupt all of mankind, because I am the obvious villain.’ ‘Of course you are, being the obvious villain means you will get defeated.’ She kicked him a few times before punching him and spanking him. ‘Bad piggy, bad piggy!’ ‘Hey, that hurts. Yet it feels good to be hurt by you.’

Mel punched him and kicked him before doing a backflip and sticking the heel of her boot into his groin, causing him to yelp in pain…’Owwww, my pork and beans!’, ‘That should teach you not to shove your fetish everywhere!’ ‘Yeah.’

‘I am sorry, I did not know any better. I was just a villain character created for this game, I did not know this was just a porno parody of an anime that is very beloved.’ ‘Well it is, you are a villain in a hentai parody of My Hero Academia.’ ‘Oh, well then I am sorry.’

‘Good but you are still going to get punished. For subjecting me to this grotesque fetish game as well as subjecting kids to it, you are grounded until character TFs stop using MC in them, and while you are grounded, you will be subjected to fetish aversion therapy and eat nothing but mashed potatoes for every meal!’ ‘Nooooooo. Waaaa, it is not fair.’ ‘Keep crying like that and i’ll turn you from a pig into a motorcar and sell you to Eucalyptus back home.’

Mel called the authorities and the authority agents arrived and took him away, taking him away to a maximum security prison, and in that prison he was subjected to fetish aversion therapy which he had to endure for several months, he was traumatized by the end of it because he had now become afraid of the very things he fetishized after having several nightmares of being sent to a hellish dimension for his bad tastes.

He had nothing but lumpy potatoes for every meal afterwards, and the duo known as Corey and Oats stopped for lunch before having some afternoon tea and jumping through the computer’s portal, arriving back in their home with Mel at Nile Road.

When they arrived back at Nile Road they all gathered around the table and waited for dinner as they communicated with their friends, and when dinner arrived they had some delicious food for dinner, after dinner they relaxed for a bit.

Corey emailed Jill about their adventure afterwards before having a karaoke party, after they had their party they relaxed. Mel had gotten over what had happened before and was fine once more, as she helped the duo celebrate.

An hour later they all got ready for bed when their party was finished and Oats put on his pink night-gown, Corey put on his bat onesie as they all brushed their teeth in the bathroom, after brushing their teeth they all went to bed.

The duo picked some friends to snuggle up with as they all jumped into bed, Anglo turned the lights off before using his light to help his friends see as they drifted off to sleep, having sweet dreams as they did so.

And thus their adventure had come to an end, but more are coming up so stay tuned.

[al1x00]

⚠️CHAP. 10 SPOILERS⚠️

THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THIS OMFG I'M NOT READY FOR OPIN TO END😭😭

EXCUSE ME "TW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS"?!?! WHO TF IS TRYING TO BLOW THEIR BRAINS OUT MY GOODNESS.

Love how I'm totally chill on the blood and gore part like yeah that's usual Katy™ stuff, you get used to it after reading TF🥰🥰

DAMNN HOBIE'S ON FIRE HE'S GOT NO MERCY ANYMORE. Also I love how you described the factory and the way Hick's office/balcony is placed very high up because he own the place and all that jazz because it just makes him the picture perfect image of the asshole he is LMAO

YAYY WE GOT KARL TOO THE WHOLE GANG IS HEREEE

WHOA WAIT A BAG OF TNT?? That's not gonna go well, is it..? Even if they do manage to bomb the factory, TNT is a very effective and quick explosive so if they aren't fast enough to get away someone might get hurt yknow

Hicks and his shit aim strike once again and fail😌 that man cannot land a single bullet on anyone, not even a couple of horses.

WTF HOW DID HE NOT DIE? ISTG IF HOBIE DOESN'T GET TO KILL HIM

Honestly if R was to look at Hobie and see him kill men so effortlessly while balancing only on one side of his horse they're gonna get married on the spot, like RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

Hobie lost his last whip and said "Fuck it, let's make an instrument of torture out of the new one" And I bet that shit hurt like hell.

"Everyone thinks he should be dead by now" ONE OF THE REALEST THINGS YOU WROTE YEAHH TERMINATE THAT ASSHOLE

YESS HE GOT THE DEATH HE DESERVED NO MERCY FOR HICKS

I always make sure there aren't any symbolism or anything in the paragraphs before I continue reading the chapters so I googled what do alligators symbolize and there many different versions of it. One said they symbolize inner strenght and power so I gues that could work with the power Hobie held in that moment right before he decided not to spare Hicks and let him suffer but it also says they symbolize finding solace in the present which I don't think Hicks got while he was getting eaten alive and ripped apart💀

WAIT IT'S BEEN A MONTH SINCE THE WHOLE THING HAPPENED? A WHOLE MONTH PASSED FROM THE DAY HICKS AND CROSS FOUND THEIR FARM?

OKAY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAS HAPPENED. HICKS TRIED TO KILL R BY THROWING HER DOWN THE WELL? IT'S WORSE THAN ANYTHING THEY'VE DONE TO HER BEFORE WTF HE DESERVED THAT HORRIBLE DEATH.

"A graveyard full of Cross’ ancestors lies just a few ways away from the gazebo." He's gonna join them soon if he doesn't stop with that attitude🥰🥰

R thinking about Hobie everytime someone does something that he would do just hurts so much because R doesn't even know if he's alive or not at this point. She has no way of escaping or getting any source of information about him or Riri and the others and it's so fucking sad. It's hurting me so much I just need to see them happy and healthy once more😭😭

R IS BEING A GIRLBOSS I LOVE ITT

“Look at me just like how you look at him.” Okay just one more thing to add to the list of reasons of why I hate Cross so much🥰🥰 Out of all the things he's done and said this is probably one of the most disgusting EVER.

KATYY WDYM BOTH HIT THEIR TARGET?!?!?! IS R DEAD? NONONONO I CAN'T TAKE ANOTHER SAD ENDING AFTER TF THIS BETTER BE A FUCKING JOKE

DAMN R GOT SOME AIM THAT BULLET LEFT A BIG ASS HOLE THROUGHT HIS STOMACH

...Katy I swear to god if R dies I'm gonna sue you. DON'T GIVE HOBIE ANY MORE TRAUMA HE ALREADY HAS PLENTLY AND EVEN MORE TO SPARE.

“A life lived without you isn't a life well lived, remember?” Bye don't talk to me for five business days.

KATY YOU HAD ME FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT THEY BOTH DIED IN THE FIRE OH MY GOODNESS I WAS ABOUT TO THROW A FIT I WAS ALREADY SOBBING MY EYES OUT BUT THEN I WENT ON AND I WAS LIKE "WAIT A DAMN MINUTE-"

THEY GOTH DUCKIESS AND BUCKY AND CHERRY HAVE LITTLE KIDS NOW I'M SOBBING OMFG

AND COWS TOO

AND CLOVER HAS HER PUPPIES TOO OH MY GOD IT'S SO CUTEEE

God really must have favourites because how the fuck did R survive that bullet right under her ribcage? Like sure there was a possibility but holy shit R got lucky. NOT THAT I'M COMPLAINING OFC

HELLO?? BILLIE AND MONA CANON IN OPIN?? AAAA I'M LOSING MY SHIT I'M SO HAPPY THAT THEY'RE ALRIGHT AND CONTENT IN THEIR HOUSE AGAIN.

God this has been so bittersweet. Words cannot describe the utter whirlwind of emotions that I had throughtout this chapter and story overall. It has made me cry, laugh, cheer for the characters and have loads of sympathy for them, so much that sometimes I felt it to the very soul. I can safely say that this fic goes onto the podium with BDAS because the sheer amount of effort you put into this has not gone unnoticed, you've outdone yourself again like you always continue to do and I'm SO SO proud of you for writing something as beautiful as OPIN. I am not ready to say goodbye to our favourite outlaw and cowboy😭😭 (I will not say goodbye to him yet, he'll have me in a chokehold until the end of time)Honestly I could go on and yap about this for hours and hours (and I probably will because OPIN deserves it) but like- the intricacy of the storyline, the well done backstories and the way you gave each character a different moral and point of view is just 🤌* chefs kiss * YKWIM?? I will never, EVER, shut up about how R and Hobie were like complete strangers all over again when they found eachother after all those years, how they feared of the consequences of loving somebody, but in the end the only thing that mattered the most was to get back into eachother's arms and stay with the other until the end, no matter if the flames got to them or not; the fact that they were gonna die together in that fire and they were totally fine with that just because they had eachother will always cling with me. They way they both learned to love the other despite all their flaws and the how the horrible things that happened shaped them, but their love was stronger than anything else, stronger than a man and his whole bullet factory that went against two people who just truly loved eachother in the purest and most genuine way ever. They fought with claws and teeth, because they had both everything and nothing to lose, just to see the other one last time before everything caught up.

Alright I won't write more on this but I will return with another yapping session soon so expect a huge message in your inbox LMAO but thanks again for everything Katy!! LY LY LY❤️❤️❤️

Dead Man's Hand

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.5k

Tags: Use of Y/N, sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Cowboy AU, wild west AU, CW food mention, CW vomit mention, CW blood and gore, CW guns, TW violence, TW abuse, TW suicidal thoughts, TW death.

A/N: if there are any warnings that I've missed please tell me so I could add it in.

This chapter tackles dark themes, read at your own discretion.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 10 >>>

The pungent, acrid and hot air of metal and gunpowder brings Hobie back in time as he slams open the steel doors to the factory with a harsh kick. Machinery whirs, and twists, sharp steel dancing to the beat of the flames as it turns molten iron into instruments of death.

Hobie roams his fury-filled eyes around the factory, green flames flicker in those eyes, finding grime coated faces of strangers staring back at him and his posse. One glances their dark eyes towards the upper level of the factory where a balcony is placed. Where Hicks would look down with contempt, and would scream at the overworked employees to hurry production. Hobie knows it all too well, the factory mirrors the one back home. In the middle of the balcony sits an office with frosted windows that bear Hicks’ name. But the man is nowhere to be found within the crowd.

“If you're not Hicks, get the fuck out.” He doesn't need to yell the command, for everyone turns to run outside towards the back exit where half of Miguel's gang lies in wait; and Hicks' lackeys lay dead on the soft muddy ground.

One running and hiding away amidst the crowd catches his eye with the same face as one of the men who buried him all those years ago. “‘cept you.” With one swift raise of his six shooter, smoke billowing out, a hole now sits on the man's torso where his heart should be. “Hicks, better get down ‘ere or my people will blow this place to the ground.” Hobie steps over the bloody body, crimson coating the sole of his boots. “Rainin’ bullets don't mix well with a room full of explosives.”

There's no movement nor a whisper in the entire factory save for the fading sounds of the machines slowly shutting off. He catches a glimpse of a shadow behind a closed frosty door in the upper level of the factory. It was quick and sudden, if not for Riri's gentle nudge towards the movement, he'd think he was seeing you again for a brief cruel moment.

“Ri, Karl, come with me.” Hobie emerges behind the blackened air from the large machines. Three sets of boots thumping silently as they bound upstairs.

He reaches the door, back on the solid wall and away from the glass. Riri stays on his right, shotgun cocked and ready while Karl checks his bag of TNT on Hobie's left. As he moves to open the door, a bullet pierces the glass, shattering it into sharp tiny pieces. A shard nicks Hobie's cheek, but he ignores the throbbing pain as blood trickles out.

“You're still alive, you little shit?!” Hicks yells, shooting blindly at the door.

The trio stays still and waits for the opening. A click echoes in the quiet, and clouds of gunpowder float through the air. Hobie and the others take their opportunity. Karl lights a stick of dynamite, chucking it inside the room and then ducking down to cover his ears. Hobie doesn't waste time, leaving the safety of the cover, he twists to face the door, shooting at the flying TNT— effectively blowing it near Hicks while Hobie holds onto his hat so that it doesn't get blown away.

The explosion causes Hobie to stagger backwards, if not for Riri pulling him back to the side, he would've fallen off the railings. Sulfur fills the air as they cough, puffs of grey smoke clouds the entire office space.

His ears ring, a sharp high pitched sound that he's awfully familiar with. He gives Riri a thankful nod, which she replies with a smug smile and a raise of her eyebrow. Hobie takes the lead, flicking his eyes towards Karl, who gives him a thumbs up, and with his hair all messed up from the explosion. Satisfied that his group is alright, he enters the fray. Smoke giving way to him and his raised gun. Shards of glass crunch at his feet, singed papers lay burned on the floorboards as embers flicker out in the air.

As the smoke clears out and the hot air of the south enters through the broken windows— Hobie finds no one inside the room.

“Fuck!” As he yells into the emptiness, a horse neighs outside, hooves running frantically away while bullets fly and ricochet. He immediately looks down, finding Hicks half burnt and riding away. “Like a fuckin’ roach.” Without thinking ahead, Hobie vaults from the window, softening his fall with a roll. Landing, knees aching but intact, he whistles for Bucky.

“Hobie, what the fuck?!” Riri and Karl simultaneously scream out, but Hobie's already running while Bucky follows right behind him.

Once Buckeye trots next to him, Hobie grabs hold of the saddle's horn to swiftly lift himself up on the saddle with a quick pull. No one's going to stop him, Miguel already considers Hicks dead just from the look of determination behind those green eyes.

Hobie leaves everyone in the dust. Bucky neighs wildly, huffing and puffing as he tries to catch up. “Hicks!” Said man turns on his saddle a few ways ahead, arm raising to aim and to shoot his gun. Bullets whizz past, hot air passing by as Hicks misses every single bullet.

Hicks’ scalding flesh makes him keel over in pain as his blood drenches his horse. “Shit!” He kicks roughly, his horse whines before speeding off.

Bucky gains speed, catching up to Hicks whilst he reloads. But of course, his hired guns finally catch wind. A handful of them appear from the side, trudging from the muddy swamp with alligators lurking underneath, and riding towards the bumpy road where the main chase is happening.

The rival posse hollars and hoots, sneering smiles and guns aimed at Hobie. Riri and the others are still catching up to him, so he's left alone to defend himself and Bucky. With fury fuelling him, he has everything to lose so he'll shoot through all of them like a hot knife through butter.

While the mercenaries leave the line of trees, Hobie enters the thicket, swerving to the side, using the large and sturdy trees for cover. The ground may be soft and muddy, but Hobie and his loyal horse have been in dozens of situations like this. The swamp might've slowed them down but it doesn't stop them as splintered wood flicks and flies while his enemies continue to shoot at his swift horse.

A bullet comes too close to his head, piercing a hole in the brim of his hat. He clicks his tongue, annoyed at the damage. Patting Bucky, he takes his foot off one of the stirrups to bring it to the safer side where no bullets could come at him. With two legs on one side, hand holding on to the saddle horn and reins, Hobie rides sideways, hiding his body while peeking over and shooting with calculated aim as Bucky runs back towards the path. One by one, the mercenaries fall off their horses with his bullets pierced through their bodies. The road is coated with their blood, leaving trails of rubies for his posse to follow.

Miguel trots closer, shooting at what remains of Hicks' men. The gang hoots at the sight, adrenaline rushing through their veins, and blood heating up from the violence.

While Riri and Karl have their eyes on Hobie, who now sits upright on Bucky, they kick on their horses and off they go, riding side by side with Him. Hicks panics from the sheer volume of horses running after him, with his last bullets, he aims at Bucky's leg.

Hobie beats him to the punch, quickly thrashing his whip made out of jagged metal wires, tearing the skin off of Hicks' arm apart when Hobie pulls hard at it. Hicks screams in sheer agony, tumbling and falling off his horse into the moist ground, soil entering his burns and mouth. When the dust settles, he looks up to only see the end of Hobie's gun.

It's silent in the marsh as the sun shines on his gun; frogs hum in the distance, gators trill when they smell meat while Hicks' labored breathing quickens. Hobie has his gun digging into Hicks’ skull, skin red and angry from his burns. Half of his face has melted into a mess of meat and bones, left eye barely opening from his melted eyelid. A pungent smell permeates from his oozing wounds, clothes torn and burned to ash, and ankle twisted at an angle. Hicks’ hands are buried halfway into the ground as he sinks down to the muddy plains.

Everyone thinks he should be dead by now, even Hicks himself, but death won't grant him the sweet release just yet— not until Hobie takes what he is owed.

“My, don't you look pretty, Hicks.” Hobie doesn't smile nor smirk at the sight of the man who buried him alive five years ago. A man who now kneels before him, disfigured beyond recognition, feeding the soil under him with his own suffering.

“F-fuck y-y-you.” Hicks' lips tremble from the unimaginable pain. “I w-will not b-beg.” He manages to curl half of his melted lips into one final sneer. ��Not l-like how you did.”

“I don't want you to beg, Hicks.” Hobie digs the metal harshly, skin ripping and tearing like paper from under the gun. “I need to know where she is. You're dyin' anyway, your last words might as well be somethin' useful.”

Hobie's cold words makes the man scoff that quickly turns into a painful cough. “No. Didn't your old man tell you that revenge is a f-fool's game?”

“This isn't revenge, this is retribution.” Hobie tilts his head, looking behind Hicks where a pack of gators trill and show themselves under the green swamp. “If you tell me, I won't let the gators eat you alive.”

“Wha–?” Hicks' slowly turns his trembling head, skin painfully tugging with every movement. One of the gators snaps its maw, warning with its sharp teeth. The entire gang hears this grown man whimper from fear.

“They look mighty hungry, Hicks. Better hurry up.”

“You'd t-take me away from them?”

“No, I'd put you out of your misery before they get to you. Something you didn't give me back then.”

Hobie can practically see the rusty cogs in Hicks' head turning. “...alright, just don't let them eat m-me.” His burns flares up as he doubles in pain.

Hobie makes the man raise his head with the barrel pushing his chin up. “Sure.”

“She's at the big white house near Blackwater, just west of the r-road. You can't miss it.”

“You lyin’” Hobie doubts the information when he gave it to him too fast. Jaw tightening at the thought of you being so close yet so far from his reach.

“No, I'm not.” Hicks hears the unmistakable sound of the reptile crawling closer. “It's the truth.”

Riri flicks her eyes towards Hobie, leaning close, whispering lowly at his ear. “I know the place.” Hobie doesn't miss the hard look in her eyes. “He's not local, that place is well hidden, he wouldn't know that only the locals know about it.” She glares at the sniveling man, “It's ways away from the road he's talking about. Fucking far from it. Easily missed if you're not familiar with the place.”

Hicks figures out what she's whispering when Hobie's anger flares, hand tightening around his gun. “I'm telling the truth, Hobie. It's there and she's waiting for you! I promise! She's the one lying!” He points a crooked finger at Riri.

“Thought you wouldn't beg.” His fate is sealed with the gators. “Technically you did lie.” Hobie drops his arm, gun aimed away from Hicks. “Off you go with the gators, boss.”

“No, no, Hobie! Please, I'm sorry!” Hicks tries to grab at Hobie's leg, but Hobie kicks him down on the ground and on his back. He tilts his head back, meeting face to face with a ten foot alligator that seems to smile at him.

His screams echo around the marsh while Hobie and the others get on their horses. He watches the gator death roll the flailing Hicks on the muddied ground until the wailing stops completely.

Hobie leads the pack away while he leaves behind the sound of tearing skin and bones cracking under sharp teeth. And all he could think about is you, and how he could've had a good life with you.

—

Draped in chiffon and stab silk, iridescent blues and purples dance along the fabric as light hits it. Expensive fabric that hides all the aching blemishes on your flesh by the same men who claim that they are doing it for your sake, that it's the only way you would obey.

Your hands are tied behind your back with Cross' hand wrapped around your wrists in a sickening grip; preventing you from moving. You shine under the southern sun, all gold and frills but none of the happiness behind your sullen and dull eyes.

For a fleeting moment in those months you were with Hobie, you had peace. You'd stay there forever if you could, if only the world had granted it to you, instead of the pain that it brought down upon you.

You could've had a good life together.

It's been a whole month since the last time you saw Hobie alive. A whole month without hearing his voice, without his loving touch; and a whole month with the same family who has hurt you in every possible way they could. The image of Hobie buried under the rubble of your shared home spirals you over the edge once again. You've cried, wept and sobbed some more, but nothing has helped. You feel like you've died right next to him. You wish you had.

Meanwhile you have a wound that was never meant to be healed inside you. A wound that was momentarily healed, until you were brought back to the reality of your dreaded life.

You instinctively run your finger around the gold band around your finger, finding the unfamiliar diamond instead of the simple gold band that turns your face even more sour at the scalding heat that turns your heavy dress into an oven. You had the foresight to hide Hobie's ring the second you had a chance. It now lays underneath your floorboards waiting for you.

There's a heavy feeling in your chest, grief running along your heart, plunging your very being into darkness. It was like that day five years ago, you have no knowledge of him alive, no way of knowing if Hicks ended him. It's an awful case of déjà vu.

Both men stand beside you, as if they're meant to guard you. The estate stands behind you, its large shadow looming over you. All Its white marble and columns stand tall, doors that don't creak, windows pristine and gleaming— but you'd rather have the pile of ashes you once called home.

This place lacks a heartbeat.

You flick your tired eyes over to the well beside the estate, your body shivers from how cold it was inside, when you sank into it like stone the first time Hicks threw you inside. It's a miracle you didn't break your neck, in that moment, you wished it had.

A carriage arrives from a distance, horses galloping along the road towards the estate. Wispy cypress trees sit around the path, parting way for the dirt road leading to the house. Its soft leaves dance in the wind, leaves fluttering by as you watch the carriage get closer and closer.

“Remember to smile, we can't lose their money.” Hicks grabs the back of your dress, yanking your neck down for emphasis. “Don't be a bitch like last time or you'll get the well tonight. And I heard it'll be cold tonight.”

“I'll be in my best behavior, uncle.” Your glare towards the rich couple exiting the carriage says otherwise.

Hicks only gives you a stern look before letting you go. Cross loosens his grip for a moment and you immediately take your hands in front of you so he couldn't hold you again. You haven't spoken a word to the man you call husband since you arrived at the estate. Your defiance got your bedroom door locked from the outside for now but was taken apart for the first week of your stay. Showing you bare to the entire world, revealing to the world that you're his.

The woman clad in gold and gemstones huffs, flinging away a fly from her painted face. “God, I hate this humidity.”

“This better be good this time, Hicks.” Her husband takes his tophat off, wrinkling his nose at the scent of heat and damp marsh.

“You won't regret traveling for this, Mr. Burnell.” Hicks sucks up to the man. “My, don't you look lovely, Mrs. Burnell.”

She giggles, hiding the blush dusting her cheeks with a fan. “Oh don't be such a gentleman, Hicks.”

“Stop sucking up to my wife, Hicks.” Even though his smile tells you that it's a joke, his tone says that he's completely irked by your uncle. Perhaps this has happened before.

You roll your eyes subtly, Cross’ jaw tightens as he shakes hands with both guests. “It's a pleasure to have you both today.” He says flatly.

“An honour.” Your tone is tight, lips turned into a strained smile.

“I remember you,” the male Burnell smiles faintly at you. “And you too,” he points at Cross. “I was at your wedding, what a wonderful ceremony.” You clench your fists tightly around your lace gloves, almost tearing the fabric.

“Oh I also remember!” His wife claps, “your gown was lovely, and the deviled eggs were to die for!”

You laugh, a sound more akin to a scoff. “I should've had some back then.”

Mr. Burnell reaches for both of your hands, holding you gently as you make a face at him that doesn't quite reach the man's full understanding. “I'm sorry about your aunt, we sent flowers to the funeral. I hope it was to your liking.”

“I wouldn't know, I wasn't there.” You swallow thickly.

“Oh poor dear,” The woman touches your cheek, and you flinch away. She coos as if you're a child. “You couldn't even bear saying goodbye.”

“Sure,” you slide your hands away from the man's hold, and then you take her hand away from your skin. “That's why.”

Hicks inhales deeply, “why don't we go to the gazebo? Tea is being served there.” He takes their attention away from you.

“We came all this way and you don't even have lunch for us?” Mr. Burnell raises a thick brow, his wife agrees with a nod.

“We did.” Cross finally speaks through gritted teeth. “It got cold.” The couple flares their nostrils in annoyance.

“This place was hard to find.”

“You had us waiting for two hours. Hardly an excuse, Mr. Burnell.” Cross doesn't back down from the older man's stare.

“W-what my associate was trying to say was that— we didn't want to serve you all cold beef! No one likes cold beef, correct?” Hicks tries to save the day, but they don't respond. “There's deviled eggs in the gazebo.” That seemed to work as they followed Hicks towards the blue gazebo behind the house.

Cross yanks you back to his side before you could get far. Your chest tightens, threatening to stop your breathing as he whispers towards one of the estate workers to prepare a batch of deviled eggs immediately. The second they leave, you glare at Cross, refusing to touch him even though his fingers dig into your arm.

“Don’t run, Y/N.” He says for the umpteenth time. You would run, and you had a few times while you're with him. But you were only met with your cheeks burning into the shape of his palm, and his hired guns dragging you back inside the mansion with their lassos tied around your ankles.

“I can't even breathe in this dress, moreso run in it.” You try to take your arm back but he stops you with his nails dragging along your sleeves.

“Be good, be fucking obedient. Don't be impossible like you always were.” His green eyes remind you so much of Hobie that it taints his image in your mind. You refuse to let it fog his image.

“I am not a dog, Cross.” You fight back, why shouldn't you? You have nothing to lose now.

He comes close to your face, jade eyes reflecting the fear in your expression, breath wafting over your face. “Then don't act like one.” His eyes pass over your face, finding fear laced in between the creases of your expression. His tone softens, one that sends shivers down your spine. “Why don't you call me by my real name? Cross is our last name, Y/N. Can you call me—”

“No.” You yank yourself away even if it means that his fingers drag along your arm in a manner that makes your skin run cold.

The next thing you know you're sitting next to Mrs. Burnell, who swallows down deviled eggs like its water. The entire table is set all prettily, blue laces sitting under white porcelain, utensils draped in silver, and chairs soft whilst the gazebo with lilacs growing on the roof acts as your shade. A graveyard full of Cross’ ancestors lies just a few ways away from the gazebo. Withering gravestones left unattended, and overgrown grass drowning each of the carved names. It leaves a heavy presence in the back of your mind.

The fork in your hand shakes, silver shining in the sunlight bearing down behind you just as when a pair of red cardinals fly next to the gazebo. The murmurs of the marsh echoes around the estate, gators trilling a few ways away, birds chirping and cawing right next to croaking bullfrogs. You're surrounded by green with a dash of greed as Hicks continues to suck up to the rich prospective partners.

A hand cups your own, and for a flicker, you thought it was Hobie's calloused hand gently holding onto you until his nails jab into your palm. Cross gives you a hard look, gesturing for you to eat instead of staring blankly at the cakes in front of you. With a mocking smile, you take a glass of cold orange juice on your right, condensation drenching your ungloved hand. You don't break eye contact as you gulp down the entire glass, making the Burnells look at you with pinched brows. For the final touch, you exhale loudly as if you were thirsty beyond belief.

Hicks chuckles nervously, eyes darting from you to the rich couple. Cross is fuming silently, letting your hand go limp on the table. An employee comes to your side, refilling your glass as everyone at the table stays in awkward silence. You can't help but puff out your chest with pride. Hobie would've loved to see that. Their faces would be worth it for the wrath you're about to face.

Mr. Burnell clears his throat, “as I was saying, we can't give twenty thousand for only ten percent shares. It's daylight robbery, Hicks.”

“Oh come on, Quentin, you've known me for a long time!” Hicks plays the ‘old friend’ card, a trick you've seen one too many times. “You know I can be trusted, and that ten percent will go higher once we've had our foothold here in America.”

“I do know you, that's why you can't be trusted. Even her aunt knew better when she gave the company to her.” Burnell pauses, bespectacled eyes staring at you briefly. Your lips curl up into a smirk. You probably don't have to work too hard in sabotaging this one. “Besides, that was back when you were the leading manufacturer in the UK. There was a guarantee, now you're here in a country that is practically shitting bullets by the buckets.” He leans back in his seat, “face it, you old dog, there's no profit here for you.”

“He's right,” His wife enters the conversation, dabbing her mouth daintily with a handkerchief. “Why did you even move here in the first place? I heard the company was doing badly back home but not that bad, right?”

Hicks coughs, drinking from his glass, stalling from answering. Cross has had enough, he leans on the table, elbows right next to his untouched plate, white suit unblemished.

“Because I'm here.” He takes your hand, making a show of it for the Burnells. He's using the ‘I love my wife’ card. Surprisingly, it's only the second time he has used it on the rich and stupid. “And my wife deserves to be with her husband, yes?” The couple looks at each other, then returns their attention to you as you try incredibly hard not to vomit all over the table. “I've…ignored her for far too long while I'm always here tending to my own business.” He clasps the back of your hand with his free hand. “We were deeply saddened by her aunt's passing, but I saw a silver lining. Taking the tragedy and turning it into something better by bringing her and her family business here to my home so we could finally start having our own family here without the dark cloud looming over us.” He was right about one thing, your aunt was a dark cloud looming over everyone. Cross leaned close, pecking your hand chastely. “Right, love?”

You close your eyes to prevent yourself from heaving out what little you've eaten. “Right.” Tone small and disgusted, you have the sudden urge to stab his eyes out with a fork. For a second, your mind gives you that exact image. Seeing his blood spurt out from his sockets and spraying on the deviled eggs.

For some reason, even with the disgusted look on your face, the Burnells' hard exterior softens. The missus clutches the pearls on her chest as if she just heard the most romantic story, and the male Burnell nods along with a fond smile. “You two remind me of my first marriage.” His wife chuckles, you frown, eyebrows knitted together as Cross plays along to his concocted story.

They continue their negotiation with more enthusiasm. Hicks pats Cross gladly on the shoulder, already drafting up a contract on a piece of parchment. Thankfully, Cross has let you go. Free to wipe your hand on your dress. You replay the last minute in your mind, like you're stuck in the moment he touched you with his dry lips upon the same hand you used to cradle Hobie's face with.

The conversation fades into the background, a thought passes you by, one that you're too grief stricken to see until now. Why is Cross even helping Hicks? He has the money to fund whatever the factory needs, he doesn't even need to be in the conversation. He has nothing to gain from this. He already has you, so why does he seem so desperate to get this partnership?

Then it hits you, he's as bankrupt as Hicks. Hicks, who drove the company to the ground with his moronic decisions the second your great aunt was in the ground. And Cross, there was never a day in your short marriage with him that he wasn't out gambling his family fortune away, or going to exotic places you've only read in books. When he doesn't have his hands on you, he's at the nearest pub or the derby races, betting everything in his pockets. You always just thought he had that much money to lose. But you were wrong. And the only reason you're here is because of the money your parents have set aside for you, money that is tied up with the company or what is left of it— the company that you own and have the last say in. Until your name isn't written in that contract that Hicks shoves in your face every morning, they have nothing.

“You have nothing.” You blurt out, you don't regret it immediately.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Burnell says, offended.

“Not you, I know you have money.” You place your elbows on the table, chin propped up on your scarred palm. “I was talking about my dear uncle and beloved husband.” Your words drip with venom and sarcasm.

“What are you saying?” Mrs. Burnell asks, concerned, either for your well being with the two men or for the money she almost lost.

“Shut it, Y/N.” Hicks says through gritted teeth, eyes warning you.

“Don't tell a woman to shut up, Hicks.” Surprisingly, Mr. Burnell defends you. “Speak, girl.” And there goes your respect.

“They don't have anything.” Cross tries to yank your hand back but you quickly tug yourself away. “Hicks is lying, the company is losing money, not gaining it. Production has been down since they moved here, probably because Hicks doesn't know how to run a company.”

You continue your tirade without missing a beat. “He was a manager before marrying my aunt, but he was a shit manager. If not for Peter—” you inhale and clear your mind. “All I'm saying is, he's asking for a scapegoat for the debt collectors, not a business partner.” You flick your eyes mockingly towards the seething Hicks. Meanwhile, Cross sits quietly, you're afraid but you have to continue. “I retract my previous words.” Hicks inhales with relief. “It's not probably, it's definitely.” He stutters, trying to save face but you continue. “He's overworking the workers and because of that there's more mistakes. More mistakes means more bullets that come out a little crooked. That's good, if your targets swerve to the left.”

“She's lying!” Hicks laughs shakily, fists slamming down on the table. “You know how women are? She's hysterical because of her aunt's passing.”

You scoff. “You said it yourself, Mr. Burnell, you don't trust Hicks.” All eyes are on you. Your words fill you with pride, Hobie would be proud. “As for Cross, I wouldn't even trust him with my coin pouch.”

The Burnells seemingly believe you, heads turned slowly towards Cross and Hicks, eyes boring holes in their foreheads. “Looks like we wasted our time. You're right, honey, we should've gone for the Winchester instead of this clown show.”

“You believe me?” You ask, bewildered. “That quick?”

“We passed by the factory on our way here, that's why we were late.” Burnell answers back. Already taking his belongings to leave. “We saw the horrid conditions. We were naive to believe that it was like that because you're still getting used to the transition.” He helps his wife up as Hicks follows behind the couple. Cross stays behind silently while you stay with the Burnells in hopes that they'd take you with them. “Thank you, girl.”

“You're welcome, c-can I—” The couple gets in their carriage, eyes blinking at you. “Can I come with you?” You sound like a child, voice trembling in hope that they'll say yes. “Please.”

Hicks chuckles incredulously right next to them, but his eyes grow dark at your request, a warning. Cross appears behind you, green eyes hidden by the shadow of his hat, lips clamped into a fine line.

“What for, girl?” Mr. Burnell asks, “We don't need any more bootlicking. We're not giving you the money for the factory.”

You flex your fists on your sides, eyes darting in between Hicks and Cross. Heart thumping, you have to try. “I don't— it's not that. I don't need the money. I—”

“So you do have the money for the company then? Why bother asking us?” The older man cuts you off, scoffing while his wife rolls her eyes. “Kids these days, so greedy.” He gets in the carriage, following his wife.

“Wait! Please!” It's too late as they run off in the distance. In your desperation, you start to run after them. But before you could go far, Cross stops you with his arms embracing you from behind. “No! Please come back! They're hurting me here—!” Your flailing stops when Hicks steps in front of you with his gun raised.

“Do you have any idea what you've done?” He clicks the hammer down, finger right on the trigger. “You've doomed us.”

With tears in your eyes, Cross holds you against him tighter. Chest aching, breath stolen from you. “No, just you!” Yet, you continue to fight. You might've lost hope a long time ago if not for Hobie. Hope that you'll get out like last time, hope that Hobie will be there waiting for you. But there's a part of you that just wants to let go. Looking over your shoulder, you're met with familiar green eyes that used to fill you with calm. “And you.”

“I should shoot you right here.”

“Do it then. But you can't because without my signature you're fucking broke!” With a cackle, Hicks yanks the back of your head, taking you from Cross' arms, dragging you towards the well. Body scraping against soil, you try to scratch at his hands but it doesn't deter him as his anger fuels him.

“Fucking bitch, you keep ruining shit!” He yanks you to your feet, and then pressing your front to the mouth of the well while pushing you down harshly, making you look down at the depths.

You yelp, sharp rocks digging into your stomach, eyes forced to look down at the deep dark well. It's cold down there, you wonder if this is what it felt like for Hobie back at the farm. Staying quiet, your hands grip the sides to keep your balance, a bead of sweat falling down and leaving ripples as it hits the stagnant water.

“What, no begging or screaming and crying this time?” Hicks latches on your hair tightly, scalp burning from his hold.

“I've gotten used to the dark. You won't hear me begging ever again.” Your voice echoes down to the bottom. “You can't hurt me anymore, not in the way that matters.” Releasing your hold on the sides, you lean closer to the edge. Expecting the cold embrace and the familiar weightlessness, it doesn't come.

There's a scoff above before you're let go. “I have to correct your fuck up.” He seethes, giving your leg a swift kick as you lay your head on the stone. “Deal with her.”

“I'm not one of your employees, Hicks.” Cross challenges him.

“She's your fucking wife. You discipline her while I go to the factory. As for you,” he flicks the shell of your ear. “Your name better be on that contract when I get back.” You hear their continued bickering whilst you even out your breathing. Just like what Hobie would tell you.

After a rustle of clothing and dress shoes thumping on the ground, you fall on your knees, still clutching the well. Face hidden from Cross, he sighs, hand reaching towards you. Feeling the sickening familiarity of his hand wrapped around your arm, you instinctively flinch away.

“Why couldn't you just obey, just this once?”

You heave, furrows knitted in anger. Looking over your arm, your glare sends goosebumps up his arms. “I'm not one of your hounds.”

“Then why do you kneel like one?” The sun behind him engulfs his entire form, turning him into a breathing shadow.

“Go fuck yourself, Cross.” You shakily stand up while avoiding his gaze. Walking towards the house, you clench your fists until you feel your blunt nails leave pin pricks of crimson

“I'm trying here, Y/N. You're making it impossible.” He yanks you back, neck craned to the side to look at you. “I'm holding back but you're not making this easy.”

“You sound like this is all my fault.” You still avoid his eyes, forgoing to look at the tree behind him. “I'm not the one who gambled all your money away. And I didn't force you to marry me.” His fingers pull you closer.

“Look at me.”

“Fuck you—” you try to escape but he's stronger.

“Look at me just like how you look at him.” He forcefully turns your head with his hand burrowing into your chin.

With apprehension, you chuckle, a cracked dry laughter. Your eyes slowly move to the green eyes in front of you. “I'll never look at you like that. Nothing you do will make me look at you with the same love I give to him.”

Cross swallows thickly, jaw tightening. “Why him?”

“It felt right. We share the same heart.” It's the first truth you've said in a month, and for once you smile genuinely. “I'll always love him, remember that.”

He inhales, and you wait for the impact.

“Sir?” The housekeeper asks from the side, hands wringing in front of her. “Is everything alright?” Her brown hair shimmers in the sun like copper, lips turned into a fine line.

She reminds you of the former housekeeper that tried to help you by taking your letter addressed to Hobie. Cross found out about it, you haven't seen her since then.

“We're alright, Belinda.” Cross lets you go, leaving a mark on your arm. “Fetch me my hunting rifle.”

You leave with haste, hands shaking as you hitch your skirt up. You can feel his sickly green eyes on you, like a shadow that envelops you whole.

You've crossed the line, and you fear that this is the end for you.

—

Pacing around your room, you walk around and hold your breath. It's like waiting for the gallows, waiting for the bullet to hit you. Hobie's ring is back on your finger instead of what Cross gave you on your wedding day, which is the exact same one you left on the bedside table when you escaped. You twist it around your finger as the room shifts and twirls in your vision.

The room is finely decorated with daffodils painted on the walls, gold fixtures on the ceiling with painted deers trotting overhead on fields of green on the ceiling. The room looks like it used to be a child's room. A pale blue bed sits in the middle of the room, draped in a satin canopy. It's a stark contrast to the room back at the farm, all wood and none of the gilded walls. But you'd choose that a hundred times over if given the chance. Especially if Hobie's there waiting for you.

You feel like you're slowly disappearing into the walls.

Your eyes have been glued to the door as you chew your nails. You'd lock the doors from the inside if the locks weren't instead bolted from the outside. Tears brim at your eyes, but you refuse to let it go as you sniff. You miss your home, you miss the smell of dew in the morning. You miss Clover and how she cuddles on your side. You miss Cherry and Bucky and your afternoon rides with them. You miss him, you miss Hobie and how he holds you gently, how he talks to you about things. It's him talking so you'd listen and speak with him until the sun decides to sleep. You miss his voice telling you that everything will be alright.

You wonder if everything will still be alright when you hear heavy footsteps outside your door.

Cross doesn't knock, and you wait at the foot of your bed, standing straight, eyes forward and daunting despite your fear. If he shoots you through the door now, would Hobie be there to greet you on the other side as darkness engulfs you one last time?

This house will be a tomb. Your tomb.

The door doesn't creek as Cross opens it. “Hunt with me, just like old times.” He has a rifle strapped to his back, suit traded in for his haunting gear, still clad in white leather. Your eyes flick over to the two guns on his belt. If only you could take it from him. Or at least one.

“Giving me a gun? Do you think that's wise?” You cross your arms over your chest, clearing your throat so he doesn't notice the shaking of your voice.

“Why? You'd shoot me in the back?” He asks chidingly.

“In a heartbeat.” You say without even a hint of a joke. “What's even out there, Cross? What are we hunting down?”

“A deer.”

“I don't think there are any deer out here.” A dangerous silence hangs in the air, choking you as he stares deeply at you. You inhale, swallowing down your fear as best as you can. “If you give me a knife instead, I will stab your eye out. Killing other things won't keep us from killing each other.”

He clicks his tongue, hand on the gun like he's mocking you. “Take the dog instead.” Taking the leash off his belt he holds it out for you. “A dog for a hound. At least this one is loyal.”

“Which end of the leash is the hound?”

“What do you want, Y/N, hm?” Tossing the leash harshly, he stalks closer, and you flinch back. A doe caught in the coyote's eye. “I broke your heart, I get it. Do you want me to apologize to you?”

“My heart? That's the only thing you haven't broken yet.” He stops a few feet away from you, yet still too close to you. “You broke my body until I could barely recognize myself anymore. My arms bear the shape of your nails, my scalp remembers the sharp tugs of your hands.” You exhale as a tear falls down your cheek. “Hobie broke my heart, but he pieced it together, piece by tiny piece.” You point at him repeatedly. “You, you broke everything else.”

“If this is about your aunt—”

“Fuck you! This isn't about her.” If this is really your end, you don't want to leave without saying the words you've been meaning to say out loud. You tremble for a second before grinning with tears in your eyes. "I'm glad she's gone. Her hold on me is gone.” You chuckle breathlessly, sighing loudly. “There I said it. It's like a boulder has been lifted off my shoulders.”

“Y/N,” there it is, the patronizing tone he uses on you. He's about to guilt you into something you haven't had a hand in, or chastise you like a child.

“Stop being so fucking delusional, take the blinders off for one fucking minute.” The fire in you latches on you. “This is about you and how you hurt me the second you brought me home after the wedding. You knew that I never wanted to marry anyone else, and that my aunt and Hicks hurt me back home. And instead of helping me, taking me away from them, you joined them.”

“I got you out of there. I married you.”

You laugh without an ounce of humour, clapping wildly. “Well thank you very much, Cross!”

“I tried for a little while, Y/N. But I'm your husband, and you continued to disobey so I had to go to them, ask them for advice.” He walks closer, you stop him with a hand in front of you, as if it will shield you from him. You've tried that once, it didn't work.

“Nothing you do will make me forgive you. I hope you drown in your guilt if you even have an ounce of it. I hope you lay awake at night thinking of how much you hurt me. I'd rather die than forgive you.” Cross steps forward with an unreadable expression, and the back of your knees hits the bed as you try to get away. You eye the gun, you fear that you won't keep your promise to Hobie.

The world already ended for you when Hicks killed him.

Cross tries again. You think it'll be the last time he will the second he walks closer to you, so close that you can see yourself in his eyes. “Sign the papers, Y/N, and everything will be over.”

“You know the second I sign it, Hicks will kill me.” Your eyes wander towards his unlatched gun.

“I won't let that happen.”

You laugh in his face, “Sure, but you'll let him hurt me. Might as well sign my death warrant instead.” Standing back up, you inch towards him bravely despite your instincts telling you to shield yourself. You have to get that gun. “I–I tried to love you at first, and remained optimistic in this marriage.” His eyes are on your face, irises darting over your lips while you sneak your hand towards his gun belt slowly. “Even indulging my idiotic childish whims of what a marriage could be like. But I couldn't, not when you hurt me just like they did. Only because I didn't love you like how you thought I would.” Your hand finds the cold metal, fingers wrapping around the handle. “For a second there I thought you'd be my saviour, when in fact it was the opposite. You joined them instead. You were just as bad as them.”

You stand toe to toe with him. You hear a glass breaking downstairs, and then the smell of something familiar. Snatching the gun quickly, you aim it at his stomach, steel meeting flesh. You feel the same sensation against your chest.

“I love you.” Cross utters, finger right on the trigger.

“I've seen love, this isn't it.” With your cold words, you shoot.

Both guns go off.

Both hitting their targets.

—

The sun is just beginning to set, orange peeking from the horizon, hues of pink and orange blanketing the three men. Each inhale from the cigarette perched in each of their lips has grey smoke filtering through their lungs. They should be guarding the front door like they were hired to do, instead they chainsmoke their way out into an early grave while hiding behind the estate, facing the vast green marsh that hides their debauchery from the rest of the world.

“You hear any cryin’ last night?” The one with an auburn beard asks, his rifle leaning against the wall right next to him instead of in his hand like it was supposed to be in.

A dark haired man answers, belching out smoke while crouched on the ground, eyes narrowed at the whispering willows. “Yeah, i think the stable boy wasn't lying, there's a fuckin' ghost here.”

“You two think it's a fucking ghoul or some shit?” The third one replies with a scoff, blonde hair peeking out from his hat as he takes a swig of moonshine.

“Yeah,” The first two responds, spine tingling when a cold breeze passes through them.

“It's the boss’ wife, not a ghost, you morons.” As the yellowed haired man responds, a bright flicker of light appears in between the willow trees. “What the fuck?” The two men next to him follows his terrified gaze, cigarettes falling off their lips.

The light moves, as if it dances in the wind. It flickers, brightening up into an orange glow before turning yellow once again. The three outlaws move from the wall, eyes glued on the mesmerizing ball of light.

“Fuck, it's a swamp ghost—” the one with the red beard gasps, choking on his own blood, frantically trying to stop his neck from gushing out ichor with a knife stuck to his throat.

The other two only had a split second to react before a sharp knife slashes at their exposed necks. They mirror each other, shirts stained with red, palms coated in warmth and crimson while they frantically try to stop the bleeding. They croak and creak out, eyes managing to fall upon hazel eyes, and one with his face covered in soot. They both hold a glinting knife, blood still trickling down from the steel.

Miguel leaves from his hiding place in the thicket, eyes flicking briefly towards their twitching forms before returning his gaze at the ball of light. He nods to Riri and Karl, who stand above the corpses. And then he gestures with his gloved hand, giving the warm light a small nod.

The light comes closer, footsteps echoing as boots sink in moist soil— appearing behind the darkness of the trees and into the fading light of the sun. Hobie's face is revealed behind the light with a lit cigarette in between his lips, shadows dancing around the fury behind his green eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. He inhales before flicking the cigarette away, falling into a puddle. More appear behind him, trees and bushes parting before the dozen men and women following in his steps.

“Karl, light the oleander for me will you?” Hobie tosses the bag of pink flowers in Karl's waiting hands. And then he takes his knife back from the auburn haired corpse, wiping it on the grass before sheathing it back on his belt.

“D’you think that'll work? What if she gets caught in it?” Riri whispers, gesturing for the gang to crouch down and hide beside the wall where the trio were last seen smoking.

Hobie drags one of the bodies, hiding it behind the bushes while the rest of the gang help with the other two. He follows Riri, blood rushing in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins at how close you are from him. It's only a matter of time before you're back safe and sound.

“She knows the smell, she'll cover her nose.” His voice doesn't waver, but his insides are turning and twisting inside him. He can't fail. “As for everyone, cover your damn noses, and protect your eyes as much as you can.”

“This won't kill us right?” Karl weighs the bag in his hands.

Miguel checks his bullets beside him, giving Hobie and Riri a once over if their weapons are lacking. “At most it'll make us sick and itch. Right, Hobie?”

“Just don't inhale it directly.” Hobie yanks his bandana up to his nose, fitting it snugly. He notices his hands shaking, closing his fists tightly, he cannot fail. A month of tracking you down can't end with him failing to save you, he can't lose you. “You know what to do, Karl. Ri go with him.”

“Hobie,” she clasps the back of his fist. “Be careful, alright? If you get hurt, call Roberto, he'll treat you.” Inhaling sharply, she pats his cheek. “Get her back but don't die on us, alright?”

Hobie couldn't look directly at Riri, “She goes first, Ri.”

“I know, that's why we brought Roberto with us, remember? He's the doctor, he knows what to do and…what to expect, if need be.”

Hobie nods, staring at his family. “Thank you for backing me up, I owe you. All of you.”

“Don't die and we're even, Hobie.” Miguel pats Hobie's bicep before heading to his designated position.

“What he said,” Karl smiles brightly, fist connecting to Hobie's clenched one gently. “Also if I don't return from this, Robbie's gonna fucking kill you, man.”

Hobie cracks a smile. “Yeah, I know. Try to stay alive for the both of us then.” Karl makes his way towards the front while Riri staggers behind, still holding onto Hobie's hand. “Just like Valentine, right?” Riri smiles, hiding her trepidation behind her bandana. He fixes the cloth over her face carefully, tugging it over her nose and ears. “Keep that snug.” She could only nod, eyes brimming with tears. “Don't die on us too, Ri.” With a quick embrace, she leaves, following behind Karl who was waiting for her.

Hobie takes a second to breathe. He has done things like this a hundred times before, but never with you on the line. He can't leave without you like last time. He won't cower behind wooden walls like last time, he's not gonna stand here and tremble and rot and bleed. He's going to get you back. He knows he will.

There's a gunshot echoing inside the estate just as when a glass window breaks, signaling the beginning of the end.

—

The house falls and chaos reigns. They tried to stick to their plan of using stealth, but of course someone saw them and alerted everyone in their presence. Karl got the oleander thrown inside the halls, puffs of pinkish fumes swell out from the bag. Hobie sees the result of it as black smoke turns the estate into the pits of hell. Hobie's eyes waters but he continues to strike anyone who wasn't on his side. He throws his spiked whip towards someone who tried to shoot at Karl, the barbed whip rakes and breaks skin as he tugs and pulls until the man falls down next to his shredded flesh.

Screams echo around the estate, his posse lets go of the innocent unarmed employees while the others aren't so lucky the second they aim back.

They try to fight their way inside, finally thinning the outlaws outside as flames trickle from the burning bag towards the velvet curtains. Embers climb up until they hit the ceiling, fire licking at the once white walls, leaving burn marks in its wake.

A few of the hired guns surrender after recognising Miguel's gang, some were fools who tried to shoot them down but his allies were in greater numbers. More experienced, more bloodthirsty than the hired guns.

All the winning cards are in his hand, all he needs to do is play them right.

“Miguel!” Hobie yells while he and three others try to push through the main doors that refuse to budge open.

Miguel, who was currently brawling with a man taller than him, grunts when a fists harshly connects at his jaw. Hobie curses under his breath, without wasting a second, he aims and shoots. Gunpowder fills his lungs once more as the burly man falls on top of Miguel in a thud.

Hobie stalks towards Miguel, he shoots someone who was aiming at him on his left, his bullet doesn't miss even without him looking at the target. He grabs the body by its vest, yanking it off Miguel.

“Get up,” he reaches for the breathless gang leader, hazel eyes smiling at his old friend.

“I had that, Hobie!” Despite his broken nose, Miguel is back on his feet the moment he takes Hobie's helping hand. “Retirement, huh?”

Hobie shakes his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Fuckin' retirement.” Reloading his gun, he goes back to the locked doors with Miguel now in tow. “On three!” His shoulders meet with the oak, “one!” Miguel nods next to him, bracing himself on the door. “Two!” A few more join in, ready to push the moment he says, “three!”

The doors burst open, splintering wood scattering, smoke coming out into the fray. Hobie meets with Sheriff Lee's eyes before a bullet hits him directly on his shoulder.

“Fuck!” He falls on his knees, clutching his wound as blood seeps through his fingers.

“Should've left when you had the chance, Mr. Brown!” Lee taunts, reloading his hunting rifle, giving Miguel enough time to drag Hobie back outside and placed behind the wall. “Come back here, murderer!”

A few shots ring out, both parties exchanging bullets. Your face appears in front of him before it’s replaced by the doctor's face. He needs to get you out quickly before the oleander takes hold. Hands tie a bandana around his wound, Hobie stands up the second that the cloth is tightened.

“Keep that on!” Roberto yells above the booming gunfire. “I’ll fix you properly right after this!”

Hobie nods, blinking the haze away. Miguel shakes him awake while avoiding his injury. “Lee's down! We'll handle the rest down here, we heard that she's upstairs.”

“Okay,” Hobie inhales and exhales, I'm almost there, love.

When the bullets stop flying inside the now bullet ridden manor, he steps foot inside. Glass crunches at his feet, eyes darting and alert from any surprises. He sees bodies littered on the marble floors, both from his side and Lee's. The sheriff lays under a pile of broken vase, eyes wide open, fingers still enclosed around his gun. The smoke thickens, and he hears blasts reverberating around the house.

Miguel's posse storms the place, pocketing whatever shines inside the house. A few more bullets are shot from deep inside the walls, but it's clear who's the winner. Hobie just wants you back.

Just as when he's about to climb the winding stairs with his throbbing shoulder, he sees a man stagger out from a room. “Is that—?” The bloodied man in the hunting gear trips and falls off the railing, plunging down right next to where Hobie's standing.

Cross lays on his own puddle of rubies, a gaping hole in his stomach instead of his insides. “H-help me,” Begging, he looks at Hobie with his bloodshot eyes, reaching towards Hobie's leg with his broken hand. “She's upstairs. Y-you can have her.”

“Is that him?” Miguel asks, and Riri appears from the side. Eyes watching the wounded man. Hobie nods, eyes never leaving Cross.

Hobie aims at Cross' head, seething. “She is not a thing to be had.” His aim stays true, but he shakes his head, lowering his gun down. “Nah, I'll let her bullet kill you.”

Miguel smirks, while Riri and him have a silent communication. “Don't worry, Hobie, we got rich boy.” He takes out his lasso from his waist, crossing the distance towards the dying Cross.

Riri gestures for Hobie to continue up the stairs. “Go! We'll be waiting.”

With a grateful nod, Hobie runs up the stairs towards his fire and his light. His heavy footsteps echo, breathing staggered as he thinks of you. What if he finds you in the same condition as Cross? What would he do if he sees you bleeding out? So he runs despite his own injuries, to see you again, to hold you again.

He follows the blood trail once he gets close enough, instead of your smiling face greeting him back, he stares at your body covered in crimson. Soft blue bed sheets stained with dark rubies. Arms spread on the bed as you lay on the soft mattress with your eyes unblinking towards the ceiling.

Hobie calls for you, air sucked from his lungs with every step he takes. He reaches for you, tears turning you into a watercolor painting in his vision. Red and blues blending into a watery picture.

You feel like you're in the bottom of a well, staring up at your aunt's sneering face. Your breathing is labored while the bullet is stuck in your chest, right below your ribcage. There's no pain, no feeling in your fingers as you see Hobie's face appear from above. Head perfectly lined up with the deer antlers painted on the ceiling.

“Found the deer, Cross.” You murmur, eyes hazy, lips barely opening.

“Stay awake, love.” Hobie's hand trembles as he rips his bandana off to stave off the bleeding by plugging the wound. You cry from the sudden pain, hands flying towards his wrists. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” His tears flow down your cheek. “This'll be over, I need to carry you.”

“Hobie?” Your eyes focus on his face, meeting with his viridescent eyes. “Are you real?” Nails dig into his flesh, you sob, fingers shaking whilst you reach for his face. The pads of your fingers brush along his jaw, stubble returning you back to reality. “I'm so s-sorry, I should've told you.”

“None of that.” He holds onto the back of your hand, letting your palm rest on his cheek, lips brushing along your wrist. The matching rings reflect the growing fire ebbing towards the room.

“It h-hurts, Hobie.”

Sniffing, burning wood enters his lungs, sobs threatening to pull him down to you. “I know, I know.” He wipes the tears and the sweat off your forehead. “But we need to move, love, there's a fire and I need to carry you down.”

You gaze at his green eyes, sorrow and grief twisting and turning behind them. They remind you of home, of Clover, of Cherry and Bucky. And you remember your promise to him, an impossible promise that you will try to keep. But if it means that it's his end too, you have to break it. For his sake.

You grip his shoulders, Hobie notices how weak your hold on him is. “Okay, okay, carry m-me down.” There's a taste of copper in your mouth, lips coated in the bitter taste.

He nods, wiping his tears with his sleeves before sliding his hand behind your back, finding your warm blood sticking to the bedsheets. “I got you.” Whispering against your crown, he lifts you up mere inches away from the bed before you scream in agony. “‘m sorry!” He cries into your hair, your grip weakening even more.

“W-we can try again.” You slide your palm to his nape, “try again, Hobie.”

Hobie flicks his eyes towards you, the light behind your eyes is starting to dim. “Help!” He yells in desperation at the door, in hopes that someone comes bounding up the stairs. “Riri! Miguel! Anyone!”

Your heart breaks, “Hobie, Hobs.” Patting his chest, it's getting harder to breathe. “L-leave. Leave me here.” Hobie's already shaking his head. You smile softly at him, the best you could do despite your body dying. “You have to, you can't die here.”

“And you do?” He cups your face, “we still have forever to go, remember?”

He doesn't want you to come back as a dream anymore, or a shadow embracing him from behind; or a pain in his chest when he hears your name in his mind. He doesn't want your ghostly kiss to taste like ashes on his lips.

He doesn't want you to go.

“I'm sorry, I can't keep my promise. B-but you still can.” You weakly push down at his nape to feel his forehead against yours one last time. Your eyes are starting to close. “Live for me, would you?”

“No, please.” His palm slides right above your heart, feeling your heartbeat slow down. One last time, he yells for help. His throat burns as the ceiling above is engulfed in flames. No one comes to help. “I have to break my promise too, love.”

“Don't, please.”

“A life lived without you isn't a life well lived, remember?”

You accept death in his warm embrace. “I'll see you in a bit then.”

Flames engulf the room in its fiery destruction. Paint melting off the walls, wood and glass cracking under the pressure. And yet, he still holds on to you, lips pressed on your cold lips in a fleeting goodbye.

“Hobie!”

—

In the middle of nowhere sits the remnants of a farm with clovers growing all around it. Vines snaking along what remains of the farm house, and in those vines, pink hydrangeas grow and thrive amidst the cinders. And behind those darkened wood sits two graves with clovers growing on top of the soil. Two names are etched on simple limestone graves, they bear the same last name and same date of death.

Many travelers pass through the place without ever knowing the story behind the two graves. Seasons come and go, flowers bloom and wither. But only a few ever knew what used to stand on the emerald farm. What used to grow, what colour the house was, and who used to live in it. Stories were whispered and told but only a few truly knew the story behind it, few who came and visited and placed flowers on each of the graves.

And in those few, only three of them know that the once abundant farm where two graves were dug right under an oak tree, are empty.

The stories and the graves were enough to fool anyone left that wants to hurt either one of you to turn back and lament.

The true story lies behind the northern border, where pine trees grow up to the skies. Where snow and ice envelops the whole place. Where the two names etched on the gravestones in the empty farm now live.

“Stop bullyin’ your brother.” The dappled foal yelps, trotting away from his much bigger older brother. The dark horse with white splotches turns his bright blue eyes towards Hobie, huffing and puffing like an annoyed teenager. “Don't huff at me,” great, now he's the one talking to horses. “Go tell your dad not to have any more kids. Not my problem, junior.” The young horse rears, running towards the barn where Buckeye and Cherry sleeps.

Hobie leans on the fence, watching the sunrise on his expansive land. Horses and foals run around freely, feeling the cold gust of wind in their manes. A few sheep roam the grounds, while a pair of cows chew their way towards the fences. Snow-capped mountains rise up high in the background, white snow dusted along the rocks like sugar. While the trees dotted along the mountainside makes for the perfect scenic view. He pulls at his jacket closer to himself, fur tickling his nose as he breathes out puffs of smoke from the cold temperature. Winter’s coming, he can feel it in his joints as another breeze rolls in. He smiles in contentment when the air carries the sound of ducks quacking from their coop, and the smell of morning dew passing by. No more does the smell of fiery gunpowder graze his senses, and no sounds of bullets firing ringing in his ears.

He keeps his hat snug on his head, Clover runs by with her litter of puppies tugging along. And he feels you before you arrive by his side. A smile tugs on his lips, hand already reaching for your waist.

“What are you thinking about, cowboy?” You flutter your eyelashes, chin placed in his shoulder.

“That I have it good, too good.”

You give him a tender smile, leaning to kiss his jaw. “None of that. This isn't too good for you, you deserve all of this.”

“Too early to wallow, huh?” Hobie wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer, and then he twists around to face you fully, back leaning on the fence, admiring you in the bitter blue of dawn.

You find penchants on his sternum, nose nuzzling his scar. “So fucking early.” He laughs, music to your ears.

“Hard to get used to, huh?”

“Kind of, it's a good feeling though, waking up.”

“You feel okay, right?” His palm pats your chest gently where a scar lies. “No breathlessness? Nothin'?”

You sniff at the cool wind, “nothing, I'm fine, Hobie.” You cup his cheek, jaw rounded at the edges, scruff tickling you, he looks as if time hasn't passed. “Nothing to worry about.” He leans towards your touch, fingers bracelet around your wrist gently, lips meeting your skin. “You okay?”

“Never better, love.” His green eyes twinkle, free arm pulling you impossibly closer. “Especially today.”

You tilt your head playfully. “What's today exactly?”

“Cheeky,” he pokes your side. “You know what day it is.”

You feign realization. “Ah! I remember now, Riri and the gang are coming over.”

“Yes, and?” He grins, biting his lower lip, jade eyes crinkling at the corners. Seeing the matching rings on your finger and his own makes him smile wider.

You suck in your teeth, acting like you're thinking. “It's Bucky's birthday?” Hobie rolls his eyes with a chuckle, and you finally relent. “I know what day it is.” You lean away, taking out a letter addressed to Hobie from your pocket. It's filled with affectionate words, loving thoughts and everything in between. It's a love letter just for him. “Happy anniversary, Hobs.”

Hobie's chest fills with a sense of belonging, heart full with his love for you. He keeps the letter in his coat pocket, right above his heart. “Happy anniversary, lovie.” He pulls you back, you giggle as your palm hits his chest, fingers snaking up to his nape to guide him towards your waiting lips.

“Forgot something, cowboy?” You say against his lips, and he nudges your nose with his own.

You feel something grazing against your chin, and when you flick your eyes down, you see a letter written in his hand, addressed to you. You tamp down your excitement, snatching the envelope, giving it a peck and tucking it inside your jean pocket.

“Never, read it together like always?” He pecks your warm lips once, then twice before indulging himself in your warmth.

“Yes,” you utter, breathlessly. “But inside, your tea, and the girls are waiting.”

Hobie chortles, kissing you again before reluctantly pulling away. “They're awake?”

“They smelt breakfast.” You inhale, letting his sandalwood and mint scent waft over you with ease. “If you hurry, there might still be some left for you.” You begin to walk away, hand grasping his palm.

“Alright, just one more then we'll go.” He pulls you back to his chest gently as you giggle atop his lips. He kisses you like he did all those years ago.

In the middle of nowhere, his story begins. And in the middle of nowhere, his story ends with you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking around this long! Our beloved cowboy is finally happy and at peace 🥺 If you loved reading OPIN please consider reblogging ❤️

[sanjisblackasswife]

What I think the Monster Trio’s Dick Look Like(NSFW)

Ft. Zoro, Luffy, Sanji

A/N: I’m a pervert…I’m bored…and I may end up drawing this so…yeah. Also this isn’t TOO descriptive considering idk how tf to describe a man’s tallywackle.

Luffy

About 4-5 inches on soft and hard. He can stretch it out so have fun with that.

He has one small vein you don’t really see or feel unless he is hard or about to cum

Pretty lightly brown and pink tip, doesn’t curve, his family jewels aren’t huge but they’re not that small either you can like pop em in your mouth ig

No pubic hair: he just doesn’t grow any down there

He cums A LOT (not as much as Sanji) and if semen And Dick has specific tastes depending on a man’s diet then they both taste terrible because of his terrible diet

Twitches uncontrollably when you blow on it

It gets friggin huge when he is using Gear 2-4

When he is in Gear 5 it naturally grows 3 inches and it’s thicker with his vein protruding out more

Zoro

Absolutely the most thickest out of the three, could compare the thickness to a banana

Pretty tan with a brown tip and pink/red undertone. Blushes a lot when he’s hard

He’s a grower not a shower; 4 inches soft, 7.2 hard.

Curved slightly to the right 2 large veins under and on top of his shaft

Hairy ass monkey down there—his happy trail is absolutely dark green with a hint of black btw

Hefty ass balls I mean what the hell man

Reminds me of a damn bull

When it does twitch you barely notice it

Just like Luffy his Dick and semen would probably not taste that great. You know how some guys say women that they’ve eaten out taste like pennies? Well yeah he’d taste like a very faint metal of some kind so hold your breath ladies

Cums like a damn river and if you don’t start breathing through your nose you will choke

His Dick print shows a lot when he wears pants so he man spreads most of the time

Will throw hands if you say his Dick is his 4th sword worth it

Sanji

Yeah let’s pretend my user name doesn’t exists and I’m totally not being biased right now.

Pretty dick it’s so pretty

He is the longest out of the three, 7.4 all around, but very skinny. He has one large vein up the side of his cock up to the tip

Speaking of tip I want his so bad

His tip is of course a pretty pink, is naturally blushed idk if that’s a thing but let’s roll with it

Alsways fucking semi hard because he is a horny bastard

Can hide it very well in his slacks usually takes him a few minutes though

His happy trail/pubic hair is so pretty, nicely trimmed for the ladies he can’t seduce and the same color of his beard.

Taste like nothing? Like skin like lick the back of your palm and that’s what it taste like.

Oh wait he smokes like a train

Okay it’s still not the best taste but it’s better than Zoro’s and Luffy’s

I heard semen can be really watery so I’m giving him that HC. Because look at him.

Once he cums he literally can’t stop it’s like him bleeding through his nose but his nose is his Dick and the blood is semen so…have fun with the mess

I Petition Oda to give this man some 🐱 before the series end tysm.

[pudgecuddles]

A Series of YMMV Kink Prompts:

Quick warning, these prompts are all really weird and you may not like them. But I was hronky one day and wanted to challenge myself to write things that I don't normally write, or aren't into at all. Lemme know if there's one of these that you'd like me to actually write something for in the future. :)

WG/Anal Vore:

Chubby Jimin anal vore where Jungkook is eaten by his hungry ass which grows after digesting. Jimin is a priest for the god of hedonism who requires obscene sacrifices. If the performance is satisfactory, the sacrifice is revived. Jungkook is the newest sacrifice and is excited. All of the past sacrifices have come back safe and sound, gushing about how sexy the priest is and how pleasurable the experience was. Jungkook starts out by eating Jimin out, loving the taste already. Jimin’s large ass starts to open and want to suck something in. Soon it’s nothing but a gaping hole. He tells Jungkook to push deeper until his face is swallowed. Jungkook does so, hard and horny. He is half slurped, half shoved into Jimin’s gluttonous bowels.

WG/Bimbo TF:

Bookworm Namjoon turning into a fat bimbo after reading a strange book. His roots turn blond, his nipple double in size and sensitivity, his hips seem bigger and start to sway which turns into an exaggerated waddle when he can’t stop eating. He grows progressively dumber and dumber with every bite he eats.

WG/Scat:

Porn star Tae who started working in the BHM porn field finds himself unable to hold in his shit from being assfucked so hard. He eventually has to start wearing adult diapers in between shoots which his costar finds even more attractive.

WG/Bear:

Shy young man Jungkook decides to start growing body hair and gaining weight in order to gain confidence. He takes a pill that helps him do so. He gets taller, hairier and fatter. Cock and balls grow bigger too. Slowly his personality changes to become more dominant as well. His boyfriend's Jimin and Taehyung love it and can't get enough of their new obese bear of a boyfriend.

WG/Feet:

Yoongi is very fat, but has gained almost exclusively on his lower half. He complained to Hoseok that he has to buy new shoes again because his feet won’t stop growing. Hoseok likes feet. But only fat feet. So he fattens up an already bottom heavy Yoongi to make his feet fatter. Fucks his ankle rolls. (Eventually Yoongi’s ass and legs immobilize him while his ankle fat swallows his entire feet. Hoseok fucks his leg holes.)

Inflation/Piss:

Hoseok likes to pump air into his bowels and inflate his belly with water in order to feel full, fat and sloshy. He likes to let the air infuse the scent of his shit so that when he lets it out in public it’s like he’s farting. After the water bloat has digested, it fills his bladder until he can’t help but piss himself. It’s embarrassing and he loves it. He’s never done it at the same time until now…

Lactation/Furry:

Jin is a full on cow furry (snout and everything) who’s gone so long without being milked, he’s become immobilized by his udder. After going days without his nipples even being touched by his owner, eventually his udder starts lifting his lower half off of the ground.