#pls read the warings

[cloned-eyes]

Stormy Seas | Part II

Merman!Wrecker x GN! Reader

5.9K

Part I

After your strange encounter you're determined to find out more about the creature you had freed that faithful day. And after making new aquaintances your island is also hit with another tragedy that serves as the soil for looming shadows of the past

WARNINGS: GRAPHIC DESRCIBTION OF BLOOD, GORE AND DEAD BODIES, VIOLENT BEHAVIOUR AND INSULTS (in the last third), no use of Y/N, no describtion of outer appearance in any way

We start of with some sweet fluff before getting into the murder mystery part of this story. As always not beta read and I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes and typos. I hope you enjoy it any way.

You had remained out there for far to long. Out on the open ocean staring into the waves in hopes that he would return at any given moment for hours. Without success.

It took you a while to process everything. If you were honest, it still felt like something that had happened in a dream instead of real life.

Truth to be told, even now you somewhat believed you had hit your head or eaten something gone bad, mind now hazy due to toxins and sanity washed away by it.

This creature – Wrecker- had fully warped your reality in a way you never had imagined. And while still being rather vary of the whole situation and also somewhat suspicious you found yourself yearning with the desire to meet him again.

Maybe it was the little, heavy imaginative child that still remained deep in your chest. Causing those wishes, always dreaming of encountering a cryptical creature, befriending and going on adventures with it like the heroes in your favourite stories. You had grown up since then, learning that most of those stories were just, well, stories. Your new acquaintance however argued that.

You didn't tell anyone. Not that anybody would have believed you anyway but you doubted that Shep needed you running around the island telling stories about your supernatural encounter while people still remained missing. If you were honest, you didn't believed that they would return. It had been nearly a week by now. Everything that would be found now was probably not alive any more. Not that you dared to out right say that. Heavens above, not in a million years.

Instead you did your best to support your community. Staying off the ocean for a while, helping with more pressing matters on land. Cleaning up the streets. Helping getting rid of the wreckage scattered all across the lower city. Saving everything left to be saved. However, ever so often you found your gaze wandering. Always finding it's way back to the shimmering ocean surrounding you.

Now you knew about something out there, that many didn't. Your mind constantly pondering if he was out there, head just barely above the surface gazing towards the island.

A slight wave of embarrassment hit you every time you realised you had stopped what you were supposed to be doing while staring into the distance instead. There were more urgent matters that required your full attention right know. Shaking the thoughts of your head you tried to focus on the more importing things, pushing Wrecker back into the back corners of your mind. At least for now.

Another two weeks passed by in a blur and your life finally got back to a bit more of normality. Seizing the opportunity one faithful morning you sat foot onto your boat again. It felt like the first time in ages.

It was in the early hours of dawn as you reached your designation. Turning your engine off you

let the waves softly rock your boat while your eyes searched the ocean for a glimpse of him. Sun just about to wake up and rise from the ocean. You feared that during the days that had passed every chance of seeing him again had been snuffed out. It was a bit disheartening but since the feeling of being watched never had fully went away you were somewhat hopeful that not everything was over just yet.

So you waited. Pouring yourself a mug of caf you listened to the sound of the waves crashing gently against the body of your boat, ears catching the faint sounds of screaming seagulls echoing from the coast. Paired with the soft warm light dawn it was a truly peaceful atmosphere. Warming your fingers on your mug and gently blowing away the steam you took a light, testing sip. A mixture of the hot bitter caf and the admittedly large amount of sugar and cocoa you had poured into it hit your tongue in the most delicious way. You had adapted the way of drinking this beverage from your mother. Savouring the taste of caf and hot cocoa alike, it was a dream come true and a good way to start your mornings.

After aimlessly roaming the ocean's surface for a while your gaze eventually sat on the rising sun.

Enjoying the feeling of the first warm sun rays of the day your body shivered slightly. You had a good feeling about how this day would go. Fishing your generously filled lunch box out of your

waterproofed backpack you plopped a few pieces of fruits into your mouth, following up with one of the chocolate glazed oatmeal cookies. A few crumbs landed on your lap as you took a bite from the cookie, swiftly brushing it of your pants as sudden “clank” hit your ears. Your movement froze slightly, head faintly moving into the direction from which the sound had originated from.

Cautiously chewing down your cookie you turned around, eyes quickly falling onto front left gunwale. His scared, bald head barley glanced over the edge, one pitch black and one milky white eye focusing on you, glistening with curiosity.

Swallowing down the food which was left in your throat as well as a building lump of nervousness you softly nodded at him.

“Good morning”

You voice was soft, almost too quiet to make it over the sounds of the rushing ocean. But he seemed to have heard you, head slightly tilting and continuing to watch you closely. After another moment had passed, he mirrored your gesture, slowly repeating it. The shyest of smiles ghosted over you face. So your intuition hadn’t betrayed you.

The both of you continued to watch each other. He was definitely intrigued by you, disappearing for short fractions of time due to the rhythm of the waves. You felt like you should do something, say something but couldn’t think of one possible thing to let out of your mouth.

It was clear that he could understand you, hell he could talk but in opposite to you, his desire to voice any words seemed very slim. You tried to come up with something to do next, to get connection further than just starring at each other going. Dying for getting a closer look at him you felt your legs bounce while trying to figure something out. The movement of your legs caused your lunch box to move, nearly falling out of your lap. Hands catching it last minute, causing you to let out a sharp sound of surprise as your eyes fell on the lunch box.

Soft splashing could be heard, causing your gaze to shoot up back to Wrecker. His head peaked a bit farther over your gunwale, eyes glued onto what you were doing. Glancing between your food and him an idea bloomed in your head. Slowly not to startle him, you took out an oatmeal cookie.

“Want one?”

His head tilted a bit further, sharply eyeing the thing that you held in your hand. You doubted he

knew what a cookie was and internally face palmed yourself. He lived in the ocean. Obviously, there were no pastries down there.

You took a bite from the treat in your hands, before pointing it towards him yet again, hoping to get your point across. You noticed how his brows slightly peaked up, black eye lancing between you and the cookie you held out.

A few seconds past and you felt your heart pumping in your ears as you waited in with bated breath.

Very hesitantly he began to move. Head sinking and disappearing out of your sight, but you could

hear the sound of moving water and caught a quick glimpse of his dorsal fin. Now having a clear sight of it you didn't fail to notice that big parts of it where missing. Scars that matched the brutality of the ones on his head spread over it as well.

You stretched you neck in hopes of not losing sight of him, but you eventually failed, fin vanishing as well. There was a short pause, and you nearly didn’t dare to move, only your eyes roamed over the spot where he had previously been. Then he appeared directly beside you. Eyes peaking up from under the ships edge. It felt surreal to have him so near all of the sudden. Halting your breath your eyes examined every inch of his face, trying to burn his image into your brain for all times to come.

It was strange. He looked human, almost. If not for his eyes he could have one fooled. That and the strange aura radiating from him. Revealing that he was something greater than just human. It was impressive how perfectly still he remained in the water.

Remembering what had been your plan in the first place you blinked, hand holding the cookie moving towards him. Maybe the movement had been a bit to quick since he flinched, notably retracting into the waves. Limbs freezing for a second you continued your motion much more slowly, carefully placing the food on the boats edge. His body moved back up. Closely eyeing you and the offering. He was hesitant to take it. Movement tense and cautious.

Taking it he brought the pastry up to his nose, taking a few light sniffs. Meanwhile you stretched your neck slightly, eyes tracing the scars spread across his face and following them down his neck. Immediately stopping as his intense gaze was back on your face. You reached for another cookie out of your lunch box, offering a small encouraging smile before taking a bit of it. He studied you cosily as you chewed your bite, swallowing it down before taking the smallest bite from his.

Eyes growing wide in surprise as the sweet flavour bloomed on his tongue. With no further time wasted he greedily devoured the cookie. Watching his positive reaction earned you a victorious feeling. Yet again meeting his eyes it was hard to miss the plea for more in them. So you offered him another. And another. An another. Sharing almost all the food contained in your lunch box with him. Going over to he fruits after all the cookies were devoured. Pineapple seemed to be especially tasty for him.

You eventually had stopped laying the food on the gunwale and instead offered him the lunch box directly. All prior shyness and hesitance had left him by now. Your plan to coax him in with food had worked very well. Joy filled your veins as your inner child squealed internally, hardly containing it's excitement. Deeply hoping he couldn't hear the sound of your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“I cut you free that night, didn't I?”, you asked. It was much more an observation of connecting the dots but it couldn't hurt to ask for conformation. Swallowing down the last piece of pineapple he nodded.

“Which I'm thankful for”, he rasped. His voice sounded strange but not unpleasant in your ears. However, it also felt like it was resonating deep in your bones vibrating through every fibre of your body. It was unlike anything you had ever heard and you felt yourself strangely yearning for more. The thought of him being a siren crossed your brain. Though it was a stark contrast to what you had been told a siren was supposed to be while growing up.

“It's not worth mentioning”, you said. Suddenly it was rather hard for you to focus on which words to say. “You...You kept watching me?”

He nodded. A faint sheepish smile tugging on his lips.

“Why?”

The question fell from your lips as a whisper. Voice shortly to weak to be any louder. You were utterly mesmerized by him.

“I wanted to see who cut me loose”, he answered and you noticed how his expression changed. While the curious glint in his eyes remained something else you couldn't quite read tinted his face. You weren't aware of just how far you had leaned over to examine him closer until he abruptly rose up a bit. Starling you, causing your body to swiftly back up a bit. Blood rushing into your cheeks because of how close he suddenly was. The unforeseen action making you flustered for an unknown reason.

“A quite lovely saviour”, he purred making your heart stop. You had expected a lot of things but nothing could have had you prepared for those words. Abruptly choking on your own spit you coughed. Ears and cheeks now burning hot. If he hadn't noticed your flustered face before he did certainly now. If it looked as hot as it felt you were as red as a tomato by now.

He was about to eat you, wasn't he? Luring you in, making you come closer before pulling you over the gunwale to eat you alive while pulling you towards the oceans floor. Soft gaze trying to fool you.

You cleared your throat, felling embarrassment bubbling up your neck as you saw a cheeky grin flash over his face, teeth slightly flared. They looked quite imitating. Distorting the image of him smiling, remembering you that he was in fact not a random dude hanging on the side of your ship but a massive unknown creature which only should exist in tales of old drunk fishermen.

He clearly was amused by your behaviour. Very much aware that you were in awe because of him.

“You came back. For me”, he stated and there was no use denying it.

“Well yes. Like you, I wanted to see what – or better whom- I had freed that day. Especially after your little shell shenanigans”, you told him. A small smile appearing on your own lips as you recalled your first interactions. “Quite the sight I admit”

You seemed to have said the right words. Stroking his ego with flattery he also displayed delight. It was obvious by the way he couldn't hold your gaze, small smile growing into a wide grin. A low chuckle escaped from his throat. A sound quite lovely to your ear.

Quickly pushing himself up even more, causing your boat to stagger a bit more he suddenly didn't seem to have any more problems coming close to you. Personalty doing a complete 18o as he was all up in your face. Beaming at you joyfully and excited.

“That was fun, wasn't it? You surface dwellers like shells, don't you? I thought it was a good way to show my gratitude. Did you like them”, he said. Voice now loud and booming.

It took you a moment to get used to his sudden change of demeanour but you welcomed it. It felt like the ice was broken and the fear of him vanishing out of the blue disappeared. It was an actual kind gesture and you felt honoured by his consideration. The shells had been breathtaking, there was only one little problem.

“They were stunning, sadly I fear they're back on the ocean floor. Given that I pushed them over board during our little game”, you stated rubbing the back of your neck. He mirrored the gesture as he realised you were right, since he hadn't returned them in the last round. Unbeknownst to you his mind raced where he had put them instead.

“Well, I can get you more. As much as you like”, he offered rather ecstatic. His eagerness was something you hadn't expected and it made your hear flutter with joy. This whole situation made you scream internally. Were you just befriending a merman? Doing exactly what you had dreamed of as a little kid.

“I- that would be very generous of you Wrecker”, you tried to sort your words and not just spill them out in a wild mush. “I can bring you more snacks in exchange if you want to.”

It was a bold attempt to seal a deal and given how his eyes lit up you were successful

.

“Really? you would do that?”, he asked, voice ecstatic and booming over your offering and outlook

on more delicious treats. Your nods matched his energy.

“Could you also bring more if the yellow stuff? What is it called?”

You chuckled softly. “Pineapple”

“Pineapple”, he repeated. Words slowly falling out of his mouth. Testing the sound of it and trying

his best to replicate how you had pronounced it. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“You don’t have that much fruit down there, do you?”

He looked at you with a puzzled look, readjusting the position of his arms into a more comfortable

one, rocking the boat softly while doing so. “What’s fruit?”

Oh how relentless of you. Living in the depths of the ocean and just yet had discovered the existence of pineapple you could have known that he probably wasn’t aware what fruits were.

You sheepishly rubbed you’re the back of your neck, softly ruffling your hair. Brain trying to come up with an explanation that would make sense for someone who lived in the ocean and never had seen fruit before.

“It’s like...I don’t know how to explain this, ehrm...well some plants produce them. They’re many

different types, with many different flavours but most of them are usually very sweet”, you tried

your best to pick words that would make sense and given how his eyes lit up as you mentioned their usual sweetness you had done a good enough job.

“No, we don’t have that down here. Just fish, shellfish, jellyfish. Lots of crabs and anemones and

kelp. But nothing that tastes even close to this”, he said, rambling on but your brain stopped for a

moment. We? As in multiple individuals. There were more? The urge to immediately ask him about it was strong, nearly spilling out your mouth without a second thought. You managed to contain

yourself however, fearing that this simple question might could push your luck a bit too much. Not

willing to shatter the freshly formed bound you shared you bit your tongue. A question for a

hopefully other day. Focusing back on his words, you hoped he hadn’t noticed your short moment of inattentiveness.

“...-sometimes though I get my hands on those brown balls. They're sturdy and fuzzy but they taste

good when you crack ‘em open.”

You blinked at him, mind catching up with what he just had described to you.

“Coconuts”, you spurted out a bit inelegant, instantly rectifying yourself a bit, smoothing out your

words, “I think you described coconuts. If they are brown, they are already a bit old. They grow on

Pabu. If you want, I'll get you some fresh ones”

“Yes! Oh, you’re to gracious. I’ll get you enough shells to sink your boat" he exclaimed. Water

splashing as his fin wagged excited. Boat heavily shaking, you thought you would capsize any

moment, but it was also pretty funny. A laugh escaped your throat and a tingle echoed through your stomach. This massive hunk was adorable.

“That’s sweet of you, but I rather liked it if you wouldn’t sink my boat”, you said, squeaking as the

cold water hit your face. Wrecker stopped what he was doing, seemingly just realising what he was

causing as a small, slightly flustered ‘Oh’ escaped his lips. Letting himself slide back into the ocean a bit more he steadied your boat with ease. You were impressed. Sure, your boat wasn’t the biggest, but it weighed a ton for sure, maybe even more since the original engine was replaced by one of another type at some point. And while it had you in awe, a small part of your brain also concluded that he would have no issue in flipping ships over as easily as paper boats. It soured your mood a bit, thoughts unwillingly wandering to all those previously sunken fisher boats. And while you didn’t want to assume the worst nor speculate over things you definitely had no knowledge about you couldn't stop yourself from asking if he was involved in the sinking of those ships.

“Sorry, ‘got a little excited there”, he murmured, eyes avoiding, “You surface dwellers don’t really

like water, do you”

“I don’t mind a little swim from time to time”, he retorted. Cheeky grin playing on your lips to ease

the mood. A statement that earned you a boisterous laugh from him. Voice booming and all displays of his prior embarrassment vaporized into thin air. A reaction that left you a bit confused.

“That’s rich”, he called out in between laughs, “Your surface dwellers don’t swim. You splash around at best”

To emphasis his words he pushed himself away from your boat. Massive tail moving as he glided

through the water with at most ease and graciousness. Circling your boat and giving you a crystal clear sight of his magnificent body and incredible strength. You were in awe and failed to hide it

quick enough as your eyes fell onto the big smug grin plastered onto his face. Sharp teeth flashing

and all. Flicking his fin as he dove into the waves, splashing water into your direction. Drenching you on purpose this time. You squeaked. Hands trying to shield your face, clothes yet again soaked.

Oh so he was back again with his jokester attitude. And while he was probably right if one was to

compare the average human to him, a marine creature, you felt oddly hurt in your ‘surface dweller’ pride. Wringing the water out of a small strand of hair that had snug itself onto your forehead you eyed him with a displeased expression. Not that he seemed to care much. Face still beaming at you, well aware that you weren’t actually angered by his actions. He was correct of course, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud just yet.

“I would like to see you running a marathon. Or even better: climb a tree”, you retorted but your

words had little power over him. He continued to grin at you with a boyish smile, eyes holding a

familiar glint. This was the face of someone who was about to obliterate you with further teasing.

“You sound like a bickering seagull”, he said throwing you completely off guard, “look like one as

well right now.”

Temporarily at a loss of words over so much cheekiness your mouth opened and closed, mirroring a fish out of water. Your brain desperately trying to figure out an equally snarky comeback but before any words could make it past your lips your radio went off. Sheps voiced trickled out of it.

Calling you by your name, requesting that you responded.

Wrecker a short glance, you made your way over to the small radio, responding. Gaze fixed back on

Wrecker as you watched him making his over to where you were now sitting, curious about what

you were doing.

>>I need you to come back immediately, there is a situation<<

His voice while slightly distorted was strained with distress and you didn’t like the sound of it one bit. Something was very wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t have called you. A bad feeling made your

stomach drop.

“I’m on my way”, you said, ending the radio message. Instantly getting up to start your engine. Not

wanting to waste any more time. Whatever laid ahead of you wasn’t good. Shep rarely called in on

you. But whenever he did you knew it was urgent.

“Do you have to go? Now?”, Wreckers voiced echoed from the site of your boat as you sat down on

your console, and you couldn’t help to catch how disappointed he sounded. A little pang of guilt hit your heart as you looked at him. He in fact looked as saddened as he had sounded.

“Sorry, but yes: I must leave now”

He frowned at your answer. Clearly displeased by it. If you were honest you would also had liked it much better to stay with him for a little while longer. Especially since things were going so well right know. But you were needed elsewhere and judging by the dooming feeling pulsing in the bag of your head you really shouldn't let any more time pass by.

You offered your new acquaintance an apologetic look and a soft smile.

“See you tomorrow? Same place same time with some pineapple?”

His face lid up, softly nodding. You bet your goodbyes. Eyes lingering on him as he disappeared into the waves before set course to Pabu.

You already saw the crowd of people standing on the docks from afar. Bad feeling in your gut worsening. Slowing your ship down as you entered the harbours basin. A few familiar faces helped

you docking your boat, offering a hand to swiftly pull you up the dock. Stepping aside to clear a pass for you, you quickly came face to face with what had caused this commotion. Eyes opening wide your breath hitched in your throat as your stared upon the view of two bodies lying on the ground before you.

While covered up, the sheets did very little to cover up the gruesome sight under them.

Chests cracked opened in an unnatural way, limbs ripped off and flesh torn apart. And although the

sheets were wrapped over the heads securely you knew that the faces beneath didn’t exist any more given how weirdly the fabric stretched itself over them.

Tearing your eyes away from that brutal sight you searched for Shep. You spotted him next to the

bodies. Face worn down by grief, concern and guilt. Noticing your glare on him, his eyes shot up,

interlocking with your own. A silent order to come to him. You obeyed without hesitation, swiftly

making your way over to him.

“What happened?” you asked. Worried words breathed out in low whisper.

“Marlo found them earlier today”

You flinched slightly. Head snapping to the side over the sudden sound of another familiar voice.

Phee.

She looked just as miserable as Shep and you wondered when she had returned to Pabu. Biting

down the questions about her whereabouts and arrival you focused back on what really mattered

right now.

“Where?”

Phee eyes shot up to meet yours. It was a glance you never had seen on her ever before. Her usual

foxy but joyful orbs were drained from any of it. Leaving behind nothing but stone-cold seriousness

behind.

“On the north side of the isle. Floating wrapped to wreckage just a few miles ahead of the shore”

Your mind wandered to the place. Not liking how close it was to the black waters. Even more so that it was just the direction you had scouted the days after the storm and then again just this morning.

How could’ve not detected them? Sure, there was the possibility that they had been dragged to

those rocks due to the tide pulling them there. It was actually highly likely. Still, a quickly louder getting part of your mind yelled that this was your fault. That you had been too inattentive to safe them all those days prior. Maybe even still alive.

You felt a soft touch on your shoulder. Blinking heavily, you stared directly into Sheps face. He examined you with a worried expression and you knew by the way his hand rubbed your shoulder that he was aware of what you just had thought. You gulped, avoiding his gaze trying to cover up your moment of weakness by focusing on the bodies on the ground.

“They lived in a small hut on the south cap of Pabu. For them to resurface by the black waters the tide must have dragged them there”, he stated, and you knew that he really meant to say, that this wasn’t his fault. He was just as good at detecting your inner turmoil than you were at detecting his. It didn’t help much against the guilt you experienced though.

“Pah! The tide didn’t drag ‘em out”, a voice yelled from somewhere, causing a lot of heads to turn around, including those of the three of you. Out of the crowed appeared Comar Seigh. His grim face twisted into a dark scowl. Teeth bared as he pushed himself passed the other islanders. “They did!”

Your brows furrowed and a quick side glance revealed that Phee and Shep were equally defensive with his sudden emerge. It was no secret that whenever Seigh showed his face in public trouble wasn’t too far off. He had been Shep fathers right hand man back in the days. Once a well respected and equally feared men. Because even is he called a quite lucky hand for business his own he was also an notorious choleric. He never had backed down from a fight and he fought them quite nasty.

You remembered an incident involving your father quite vividly. While you never got told the exact reason of why the fight broke out you recalled the bloody face of your father clear. Never again had you seen how nasty glass could get. Shards stuck in his skin, slicing up the left side of his face after Seigh had smashed a bottle against your fathers head. It had nearly cost him the sight of his left eye and after that your father forbid you and your siblings to get anywhere near this man. Not that you had ever indented to do so either way. Ever since that day you held an iron grudge against him. Something that hadn't faded one bit.

The dislike was mutual but then again you doubted that anyone on Pabu actually liked him. He was the ugly shadow of an ugly past. Wittering his days away with letting his anger out by torturing innocent fish or drowning it in liquor.

“Shut your mouth Seigh, before I do it. This is hardly the time for any nor place for your delusions”, Phee hissed at him. The look in her eyes made you believe she would jump onto his throat any second. Seigh eyed her in an up most derogatory way and you were ready to bash his nose in if any insult would escape his lips. It wouldn't be the first time Phee and him got in an argument. Not that the liberator of ancient wonders couldn't handle herself – heavens above she got her mothers skills when it came to handing a sabre – but you wouldn't let Seigh get away with insulting her. Not to mention the kind of insults he used.

“Oh look who's back. The sea rats daughter. Of course it would have been to much to hope for you drowning out there”, he spat at her. The muscles in your arms flexed, hands curling into fists you took a step forward but Shep stopped you before you could do anything else.

Your friend was gentle, reasonable man. A man of peace, always searching for a diplomatic solution first. Seigh hated his guts for that. He made no secret out of either. In his eyes Shep was a soft, not worthy stepping into his fathers footsteps. Up to this day he missed to admit the catastrophic consequences the prior major had caused. Actions that he had been an avid supporter of. Not to mention the delusions they both had given into. You were to young to understand much of what had happened back then. Not to mention that you parents had made an active effort to keep their absurd fantasies as far away from your family as they could. Of course you still had caught some eventually. It was impossible to not hear them at one point or another.

“Seigh, this is a tragic day for our island. We have just lost two beloved members of our community, don't you dare to use their deaths for feeding your stories”, Shep warned him. Voice unusual low and unyielding.

Seigh huffed. It was a mocking sound.

“I'm not using anything. There is proof everywhere but you refuse to look at it. The hand in the Inn and those poor souls right in front of you. Look at 'em. That's not the work of a shark or any other fish roaming the coastline. Flesh ripped open and limbs torn apart. Aye, I remember that sight. There was a time when this had happen before. A time where we had fought against them, nearly succeeding but you where to soft to finish what your father had started. Spitting on his legacy” Seigh spat out, spitting on the ground before Shep. Rage boiled in your veins and if Sheps hand hadn't still been on your shoulder, tightening to keep you in check you would have kicked out Seighs teeth right then and there.

A heavy whisper washed through the crowd. Tension thick enough to cut it. You side glanced at Shep. The rare sight of anger flared in his kind eyes, shoulders heaving and for a moment you thought he would loose his cool. But then he closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath and obtaining his usual calm, level-headed nature.

“Every death, no matter if back then or the recent ones, are tragic ones. It leaves behind great pain but we have to keep ourselves focused. Honouring them in caring on their memories in our hearts, keeping what's left of them alive instead of fuelling delusions and subduing to rage”

Sheps words made the docks go dead silent. Everone intsenly watching about what would happened next as Seigh and Shep glared each other down in a merciless manner. In the end it was a victory for your friend. Seigh backed down. Breaking his dark glare off.

“You will see what your incompetence will get you when the ships start to sink and the bodies pile up on the shores again Shep”, he taunted, gravest voice you had ever heard. He turned around without another glance, disappearing into the crowd.

You stared daggers after him. The rage in your blood only slowly leaving your system. Shep sighed heavy and tiredly. Giving you a pet he finally let go of your shoulders. You wanted to say something, anything. He needed comfort but failed to provide any. Thankfully Phee jumped in. offering her support instead and giving you a reassuring nod that she would handle this.

Eventually the crowd scattered and the bodies where taken away to get them prepared for a proper funeral. You remained by the docks. Eyes staring out to the horizon mind racing.

While you heavily disliked Seigh you couldn't help to ponder over his words. The stories that you had paid little mind to for so long certainly seemed much more likeable after your little mystical encounter. You didn't outright believe that Wrecker was responsible for this nor outright involved but then again you knew nothing about him. He was a stranger after all and just because he was nice to you so far didn't meant anything really on a broader scale.

A thought crossed your mind. Seigh had mentioned the hand. You hated it but you also felt like this could might reveal something useful to you, or better it's current owner. Determined to find out more about the past of the isle and Wreckers involvement in it a plan began to form in your mind.

TAGLIST: @wenalena @sunipostsstuff @moss-tombstone @marierg @casualmonsterenjoyer @temple-elder @bambambunny

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Hello! I'd love to have some writer buddies! <3

I’ve just come back to tumblr and need to desperately follow some fellow writeblrs !!

Please interact with this in wtvr way and i’ll follow you! Maybe even rblg your interesting stuff!!

I need friends please ahaha

[licorice-tea]

The Object Of All My Desires

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: so much angst, unrequited feelings (or so law thinks!), pining, yearning, (verbal) fighting, cursing, reader refers to law as a “stalker”, which is valid tbh bc he’s being a little weird, but not really, strawhat reader

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: oh my god i spend so long on this and i just kept hitting mental roadblocks! but then, tonight i got the inspiration to write like ~500 words and finished it up. there were only meant to be 2 parts, but similar to the second season of bridgerton (which it’s inspired by) there will be a 3rd! (the 1st part is based on the first meeting of kate/anthony, this part is based on that entire pinning phase+the confesssion, and the last will be shorter and basically be a resolution of everything.) also, im looking for beta readers! pls dm or comment if you’re interested!!! and if you’d like to be tagged in the next lmk! thanks for reading <3

Part 1 • Part 3

The second time you and Law were around one another long enough to have to face the other and, god forbid, speak, would come 2 years after your first meeting. After all your training apart from your crew, you had finally united and started traveling together again. You and your nakama took on all the challenges Fishman Island had thrown at you and soon moved on to the next adventure: Punk Hazard. It was there you met the standoffish Captain of the Heart Pirates again, and he proposed an alliance to Luffy between your two crews. So here you are; in an alliance with a captain you’d managed to piss off 2 years ago, and who clearly still carries that grudge with him.

Law already doesn’t like being part of the alliance with Straw Hat- but you only make it 1000 times worse. It’s unbearable having to be on the same ship as you, let alone sit at the same table over meals or pass each other in hallways. Not to mention, you seem to make everything a competition. And he doesn’t want to be in as childish a feud as the one that the swordsman and the love cook have, but you’re forcing him to act that way. You’re absolutely insufferable, and how he ever found you remotely intriguing or pretty to begin with is beyond his comprehension.

And yet, Law can’t pull himself away from you, nor you from him. He lingers in dark hallways just to pass by you as you go about your errands on the ship. He stares long enough to burn holes through you, then turns away milliseconds before you catch him (or so he thinks.) But every time you approach the reserved man, he exudes an air of annoyance.

It all makes you wonder, “What’s his deal?” Besides your little tiff back in Sabaody 2 years ago, you’ve never done anything to offend him in his time on the Sunny… Maybe you just need to clear the air. Yeah, that’s it; confront Law and ensure there is no bad blood between the two of you. No grudges, just goodwill.

You hope.

~

The Strawhats and co (Law) are docked at a small island, just for a day or so. Frankly needs supplies, Sanji; ingredients, Chopper; medicine, Zoro; booze, etcetera. And since most of the others have something specific they’re in search of, you have a free day to explore and shop!

You bid Brooke goodbye and thank him for watching the ship, then make your way up the dock and into town. It’s a quaint area, but the market near the entrance of what resembles a town square is overflowing with interesting bits and baubles.

Though you are happy to have this time to yourself, you’re not alone. Law is a mere 20ish feet away. He doesn’t greet you or even make eye contact, instead choosing to lean into shadows and stand behind vendor booths. You can tell that he’s trying to go unnoticed, pretending to be interested in whatever wares the shopkeepers have for sale every time you turn back to check for him.

And it’s fine, for a while. This could be a good opportunity to try and talk to him and ensure that the two of you are on good, if not neutral terms. It’s a little strange that he’s following you now after the two of you have had close to no interactions during his week or so on board the Thousand Sunny, but you don’t mind.

You cannot, however, pass up the opportunity to harmlessly scare him when he gets momentarily distracted by one of the little shops. While Law is reading titles of comic books (how strange…), you double back so that when he looks up, he can’t find you. He scans the marketplace, but to no avail- you must have run off somewhere.

Then you tap his shoulder, and the man nearly jumps out of his skin as he whips his head around to see who it is.

“You really like stalking me, huh?”

“…I’m not stalking you.”

“No? Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s the second time it’s happened.”

“What are you-“

“Sabaody, 2 years ago.”

“I wasn’t stalking you then, either.”

“Fine; following me through at least 3 groves while trying to be quiet and stay out of sight.”

Law scoffs. “Whatever.”

“Hm…” You lean to the side to see what’s behind him; display shelves with various comic books. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing, I wasn’t even looking here.”

“Ah, so it’s ok for you to lie to my face, but not me to you. Got it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

You nearly laugh. 2 years ago, after proceeding to follow you through several groves of the Archipelago, Law had insisted on knowing if you were a pirate or not, and the conversation had somehow escalated into an argument. It was a stupid little thing. But, you find it funny now, which is why you’re attempting to make jokes about the encounter and ensure him there are no hard feelings reserved over it. “Again, Sabaody.”

“Well… maybe you should stop carrying a grudge over that.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I only bring it up because I think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s childish.” Law doesn’t know why he says this, to be honest. He wants to come off as smart and witty, though he might not have executed it very well.

With a scoff, you cross your arms. “Law you’ve refused to even look at me in your time with my crew. When I try to talk to you, you act like you don’t hear me or straight up ignore me. Then you go and stare at me from across as if I can’t see you. And I’m childish?”

“Yeah, you are, and I don’t like you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Better than you being an awkward asshole with no explanations as to why.”

“I’m not fucking awkward, shut up.”

“Oh no, you just follow people around for the better part of an hour without talking to them. Very charming.”

Law huffs, unamused, and storms off without another word.

You sigh and continue browsing the stalls. “Ok, so, maybe there is some bad blood between us….”

~

Things are awkward between you and Law for the remainder of the evening. Not only is he avoiding you, but you’re also avoiding him. And though you still try your best to be at least a little friendly, he straight up ignores all of your attempts. Whereas before your little confrontation in the marketplace, the stoic man would have at least responded with an eye roll.

When it’s dinnertime, you take your seat next to Robin as usual. Casual conversation and laughter flow around the table easily and seemingly endlessly… until Law walks in. He sits in the only empty chair, next to Chopper’s, and nods at Sanji in thanks for the food. And you, foolishly, try to incorporate him into the conversation. Maybe you do it to try and heal the small rift between the two of you, or maybe you simply want to provoke him further (though you'd never admit it.)

“So, Law, how was your day?”

Everyone pauses their conversations to not-so-discreetly listen in. They had also recognized the growing tension between you and the ally captain, for seemingly no reason at all.

“Mind your own business.”

“Hard to do when you’re always in mine.”

He nearly spits out his drink.“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m starting to get sick of your behavior, y/n.”

“So sick that you just can’t seem to leave me alone?”

“Watch the way you speak to me-“

“My apologies Law, I’m so used to being watched by you rather than having conversations, I must have forgotten my manners-“

“Shut up!”

“Fuck you!”

Now that both of your voices are raised, the crew sees it fit to intervene.

“Watch how you speak to them, Trafalgar-“ Sanji warns.

Similarly, Robin tries to talk you down. “Y/n, he’s our ally-“

The attempts to calm what had nearly turned into a screaming match prove futile, as Law storms out. You scoff and cross your arms. He’s so infuriating, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Silence passes as your crewmates look between each other, none wanting to be the first to… console you? Admonish? Give advice.

“You two should talk, y/n.” Says Robin, ever so mature.

“If he wants to talk, he can come to me instead of constantly staring at me from across the deck without saying anything.”

“Well, he’s clearly not very good at showing it, but you realize that he likes you, don’t you?”

You blink and turn to look at her. This must be another one of her dark jokes. “Very funny, Robin.”

“Oh, y/n, come on!“ Usopp groans; he’s had enough of the yearning and tension. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Because he doesn’t like me. He’s been holding a stupid grudge against me since the first time we met back in Sabaody-“

Nami backs up Usopp’s point; “A crush, y/n. He’s had a crush on you and he’s too shy to talk to you normally-“

“So, what, it’s ok for him to just watch from afar but then act like a jerk when I try and talk to him?”

Surprisingly, Chopper speaks up next. “…Maybe your intentions came off different than intended?”

This makes you bite your lip in thought. Perhaps they had.

Nami pats your shoulder, “Now, go work this out so the rest of us don’t have to deal with all your unresolved tension.”

You unintentionally pout; the last thing you want is to talk to Law right now. But, your crew urges you on, and all but pushes you out the door.

~

You find him pacing back and forth on the starboard deck of the Sunny.

“Law?”

He whips around and you swear you see his scowl become even more pronounced than usual. The crease between his brows deepens, as the corners of his lips turn into a borderline pout. “Not done tormenting me?

“Tormenting? I just… I came to talk to you.“

“I find that hard to believe. From the moment we met, you have been nothing but rude and a nuisance to me.”

You scoff, all plans of reconciliation forgotten. “Believe me, Law, the feeling is mutual.”

“Fuck off.”

“This is my ship, so why don’t you fuck off? Jump overboard for all I care.”

“Maybe I will if it gets me away from you.” Law turns on his heel and storms off the open deck and into a hallway.

“Good luck swimming, asshole!”

Your rebuttal brings him right back to his former position, face to face with you so that your screaming match can continue “I hope you know that every moment I have to spend on this ship is torture, y/n, all because of you.”

“I haven’t done shit to you, Law.”

“Then whose fault is it that I feel this way? Go on, name someone else so I can take it out on them instead.”

“It’s your fault if you feel any type of way about me besides amicably. I’ve been nothing but kind, and-“

“Bullshit. Whether you know it or not you’ve done… something to me, I can feel it.”

“Oh yeah? And since when do you know anything about how you feel, all you do is brood.”

“I don’t brood. And I know that you are the bane of my existence.” He spits back, making sure to emphasize the word bane.

You hold your breath, refusing to play into this childish argument any longer. Or maybe it’s because, even if it’s just a little, his words genuinely hurt. You realize then, that you don’t want to be the so called ‘bane of his existence.’ He takes your silence as an opportunity to continue, though at a much lower volume than before.

“… And the object of all my desires.”

After a moment of disbelief, your scowl turns to a raised brow. “Excuse me?”

“Every one of my waking hours is plagued by thoughts of you. It doesn’t help that I can’t go anywhere on this goddamned ship-“

“Don’t you talk about the Sunny that way-“

“- without seeing you!”

“Well you must enjoy being around me if you’ve decided I’m,” you create air quotations with your hands, “the object of all your desires.”

You feel so out of your depth now. All you know to do is to bite back with witty remarks, even when he opens up to you. And he seems to do the exact same.

“It’s a nuisance.”

Your lip trembles, but you refuse to cry in front of Law while he plays this sick mind game with you. “I didn’t know liking me was such an awful fate.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “There are so many other things I should be focused on, but all I think of is you. It’s not awful, but it’s making me weak.”

“You’re such a prick, Law.”

He’s bewildered, mouth gaping as he tries to understand what could’ve been wrong with what he’s just confessed to you. “I’m saying I like you, y/n, I- Do you hate me that much?”

“No, I don’t hate you, idiot! But you- when you started traveling with us, you made me feel like I had done something to offend you, and then when I confronted you about it in the market you started to really hold a grudge, then you - I just- that’s not how you treat people!”

“Y/n-“

“Are you messing with me right now, Law? Is this another play to try and gain the upper hand in this… ongoing thing we have?”

“No, I wouldn’t…” He trails off and shakes his head. He probably would, if he weren’t so enamored with you and on the condition he possessed the social skills to pull off such an elaborate scheme. “It’s not.”

You’re silent again, but both you and Law are refusing to break eye contact. He must notice your still watery eyes and trembling bottom lip because he steps forward. His hand travels to your arm, then your chin. Forced to look at him, you are pained to see a similar unhappy look in his eyes. Minus the tears. You could almost take him for sorry if it weren’t Trafalgar Law, of all people. So instead of falling into his arms like you suddenly feel a desperate need to; you step backward.

You fold your arms over your chest as you look off somewhere- anywhere besides his eyes. “Law, nothing good can come of this.”

“This? What is this, y/n?”

“These.. feelings.”

“You feel the same?”

“I didn’t ask to feel this way!” You bite back, “But… yes, I do.”

“So what should we do?”

“We aren’t going to do anything, Law. You just stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine.”

“I thought you didn’t like that I was avoiding you?”

“Well now that I know why, what else can be done? Nothing can happen between us, Law. And we can’t allow feelings to complicate this alliance. I can’t allow that, at least; it’s too important to Luffy.”

He searches for reasoning that will trump yours but comes up with none. And so, with a heavy heart, he concedes. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Nothing happened.” Law confirms.

“And nothing will.”

You nod and start walking away. “Goodnight, Law.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

And once you’re back safely in your room, the tears start to spill. You hate this- you hate him. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you’re in love with him, and it took you this long to realize.

The tears don’t stop until you’re knocked out, and by the time you wake up, they’ve stained your cheeks.

Taglist: @augustanna @lavanderdreamve @pinksaiyans @khaleesihavilliard @jennapancake

[itsmeelenoryayy]

you should definitely do more ticci toby headcanons on the more realistic side :) if you do nsfw you could also do some of those headcanons but only if you are comfortable 🫶🏻

Authors note: i would love to do nsft headcannons of him and i mostly go for begin realistic in fandoms also still keeping it stily tho

ALIEN PLS DON'T READ THIS YOU GONNA BE DISAPOINTED IN ME

Warning: nsft writing underneath the cut

my boy is loud but like not loud enough for the whole hause to hear just anyone whos standing outside the door but he makes every noise possible

Whimpers moans groans sobs everything you can imagine

I mean how could he not when you just feel soooo good around him

He will feel a bit embarrassed by the noises he makes at the first few times you two are having sex since you ware his first ever partner but just fuck him right and he will forget the shame

Hes a switch but mostly a bottom but can top too

If hes on top hes good but still needs learning putting your legs on his shoulder basicly folding you over at first he started rocking his hips slowly and deeply but he just lost control very quikly as you warmly welcomed him in he becomes faster and slopper losing his rhythm as he whimpering into your neck leaving dark marks as he kissed and sucked on your neck

When he goes down on you he dosent know anything at first you have to teach him but makes up for it with enthusiasm and looooves when you trap his head between your thighs

The taste of you and the feeling of your soft thighs and soft moans are enough for him to get sended over the edge ot honesly sounds like hes getting a head he moans louder then you do grinding aginst the bed without even noticing

Toby is usually a cocky person but as soon as you two are having sex he loses his attitude instantly

If you are on top hes B E G G I N G shamelessly a ticcking and shuttering mess

I saw some people question if he likes begin pegged or not but i think its stupid to even question it i mean hes bisexual he probably would love begin pegged but would never bring up the idea to you

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (vi); side one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,583

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, nothing major atm, mentions of infertility, etc.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:  "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: splitting this into two parts, leaving y’all on a cliffhanger. pls like, comment below for tagging, and reblogged. (edit: forgot there were "broken" links or something when clicking to find the chapters, those are also fixed too.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

In front of you were two boxes, one that was gunpowder with a bold black label written at the top of the crate, and the other was written in potassium chlorate. You notice that these two items share similar fates but different structures. "Handle with care," you instructed, snapping the fan in your hand shut. Walking off with shoulders squaring, your eyes trail around when you stop right in the center of the trading post. You finally owned a small port that allowed you to transport essential items from different countries. From using the money, the inn has accumulated over time.

All the time you've spent inside your room, stuck reading boring materials and trying to navigate into the world as a man, was brutal. You would never have the luxury and freedom as a woman, but you've become too accustomed to dressing up as a man. It doesn't mean you let yourself fall freely. This world wasn't built for women; you've always known that from the start, although that doesn't stop you from bending the rules to your will if you wish for it. The effects of reinforcing you into roles from everyone start to wear off when there isn't anyone keeping tabs.

And it feels liberating, you admit.

The first few steps you have taken for yourself without the help of anyone powerful give you a sense of clarity—something normal among the norms. You eye the small port, seeing the future play out in front of you. If you kept a steady trade of items from the small shops, you have gambled around the area for their compliance (you were hasty, something you ought to keep in check, too), then the port would grow big in no time. But quality wares is something you noted and took from the vendors you think would make it big if they produce what you're looking for. Owning important essential items or daily use objects was often sought out, and knowing what was going on in the market with the ledgers you kept, the vendors were happy to update it every week.

The smell of sea salt brushes against your nose when a spray mist of the ocean settles across your face like a thin veil. It brought you back from reality. The dark soft fur that clings around your neck tickles your jawline. It was a cape that had a lined coat inside for heat insulation. It was a gift to you from the seamstress. At first, you refuse such a gift as you weren't expecting anything in return but their devotion. The seamstress was an elderly lady named Rue with pure grey hair with specks of white, with milky pupils who ran the shop with her granddaughter, who was the age of fifteen. For someone blind, they have an impeccable sense of design, where to thread their needle, and even hand spin the silk threads with deer tail fur to tone down the bright arrogant colors.

Last but not least, you didn't bypass her as male.

You wonder how at first, Rue could tell, but you couldn't stop them from shoving their hands all over your face to see as further confirmation. It isn't until when you're alone that she sends her blushing granddaughter, who keeps gawking at you, to fetch warm jasmine tea from the kitchen. When she breathed out how the light footsteps and breathing differed from men, the soft scent of your natural smell under the musk of pinewood wasn't enough to fool her. Years of blindness hone her other senses.

To say you give a nervous smile even though Rue can't see, but she could sense it. You remember how she didn't ask questions about your true identity, but traces of understanding was written across her withering face. Rue was indeed an enigma and a master of changing the topic onto herself with woos of stories of her ambitious youth. You don't mind her rambling; as long as it's not you divulging into your life, then you're fine.

Readjusting the cape, you walk off the port onto the mainland, and before you can go any further, a woman who is a bit tad shorter than you bumps into you. They let out a yelp and seemed to trip over their heel as they braced for impact when falling back and shut their eyes. Based on reflexes, you grab their wrist to pull them upright, but all it does is wring their weight your way as they collide into your chest with a delicate sound of discontent.

"Hey! Watch where-" The words died on their lips when they opened their soft pomegranate-colored eyes. Their eyes almost remind you of someone. As if they couldn't utter a word after nearly insulting you, the shade of their face became gradually warmer, like the colors of their eyes. "I'm sorry!" They sputter out in nervousness. You only look down at her with your questioning piercing gaze that has her even weaker in your arms. Unknowingly. Ripping themself out of your hold, she set a space between you both.

"What are you sorry for? It was my fault for not seeing you." Simply reassuring her, the woman across from you became a more blubbering mess. You don't know what's going on in her head; the more you observe, it becomes a headache to decipher each passing second. Cutting her off, you notice the sky gradually getting darker and bid her farewell with a tilt of your head down.

It wasn't until that you were gone she allowed herself to bask in the memories of you. With both hands on her flaming cheeks, she gushes over her Prince Charming and starts to create scenarios in her head. "They were so cool!~" The aura around her was warm and pleasant, and even some bystanders who walked past her glanced at her—some young love.

"Lady Kiriko!" The young woman's handmaid finally reaches her as they huff and pant. They stop in front of her. Kiriko only clicked her tongue in distaste as she lost her sense of a heart-warming aura. "I finally found you! We have to go to the inn before it gets dark." The handmaid wheezes out.

Like a flip that has been switched, Kiriko activated her brat mode. "Why do you always have to ruin my fun?" She pinches the maid's arm harshly, and they cringe back. "I still have a bit more time left before sundown." Kiriko overlaps her arms, but her thoughts trail back to you, and then brat mode is switched off. She had a deluded smile on her face. Then again, it was back on instantly when she turned around to her maid. "By the way, did you see a handsome man on your way here? They walk where the way you came from."

The handmaid crinkles her brows in confusion.

Kiriko rolls her eyes, "You know about this tall?" She gestured to where your height would reach, which is a head taller. "They wore a cape in the color of brown, but it looked like gold with intricate design, and the neck had soft black fur surrounding it." Kiriko waited a few more seconds, "And they look adorable too."

The maid then snaps their eyes at the lady, "Ah yes! I saw them; they walked into a rented house near here!" Kiriko didn't waste time asking which house the handsome man rented, and the maid told her it was the Red Koi and sped away.

Eisha coughs as the weather gets colder and harsher. With the months flying by and winter coming, she tried to stifle another hack. "Where are the imported red coals?" She asked nearby maids, who gave each other a look, deciding who would break the news. They were a jittering mess and kept avoiding eye contact.

Eisha's lady-in-waiting ensured her Master was comfortable as she brought the finest furs and pillows to create a sturdy and warm nest. "Your Lady asked you a question, and you won't answer her?" The personal maid sternly made a face, and the lowly ranked servants quivered.

"The red coals that you requested were given to Lady (Name)," one spoke up, still refusing to make eye contact; they whispered the last part in a hush, "by Lord Sukuna's order."

As if what they said were whiplash to their Lady and the personal maid, Eisha's lady-in-waiting was about to blow a fuse for her Master. "All dismiss." She tried to say calmly. Although it was barely contained, all the servants could see how Eisha's handmaid eyes bled red with rage, and no one wasted a second to flee the room. If Hell existed, it would be this very castle.

Eisha's handmaid, Miyo, turns to their master. "Your Lady, even Lord Sukuna knows about your condition and that regular coals could suffocate your lungs and worsen it with the amount of smoke it emits." Miyo then curses you inside her mind; like everyone else, she couldn't understand why Lord Sukuna would put you above all else. Are you made of gold or something? Miyo was sure you were nothing; you hadn't made yourself worthy with a single childbirth. Something that everyone knew was important.

"Don't worry about it," Eisha's quiet demeanor made Miyo even more raucous, but she held it inside. "Go to the clothing department today and pick up my lined fur fleece and my daughter from her study." With the command, Miyo respectfully now to Eisha and left the room.

There was a quick and sudden announcement from Hanami about her niece visiting her from a different region of Japan in a week. So the Doom Mother (Motherzilla) had expected everything to be perfect and lavish. Even the concubines were putting on their best behavior as they discussed what to wear to welcome their mother-in-law's niece.

This was the first time the girl would make an official trip to visit Hanami alone. But that doesn't mean you haven't heard of her before; there were brief mentions of her throughout your marriage to Sukuna. Where Hanami had plotted the idea of her only son marrying a cousin with who he had no interest. Additionally, Sukuna only met her once when she was only eight. Even the age gap was a decade between them. In the faint memory of her ten years ago, Sukuna had said she was a spoilt brat to the brim and expected the world to bow down to her.

You could almost laugh at how ironic he was judging someone when he was the same way. Well, minus the spoilt parts, then it would be perfect.

"Lady (Name)," a lady you recognize was two years older than you, was part of Hanami's entourage, Ubi. Judging by her clothes, she was in the second rank, closely behind Hanami's vassal, Naiyu. This instantly made you put on an air of neutrality; you didn't know what to expect from her as you didn't know much about her. Out of all of Hanami's retainers, only Ubi and Naiyu were the ones you watch out for, as Ubi was specially trained under Naiyu, so their facade was perfect craftsmanship.

Since they both represent Hanami's strengths, they had to be fearless in what they do, and you suspect that much—being the blade for their master. Still, they have shown indifference toward you, but doubt lingers in your mind. You can be careful and wary of them, but that would invite your demise if you failed to see beyond, so you try to harden your eyes.

Ubi, who senses you putting up barriers, instantly tries to disarm it with a soft smile that is part of her service. "The Head Mother has requested your presence," and around you, the air of jealousy and envy from concubines rises through the roof and filters through the hallways. Whether it's deliberate or not, Ubi semblance never falters. She held onto that patience.

"Lead the way," you monotonously said, and she turned around for you to follow. Starting at her back, it's unsettling how you can't pick what's happening inside Ubi's head, unlike how you did with Sukuna. For them, it's a blank slate.

"Ugh, look at her acting like she's so important just because the Head Mother had called for her," Sena whispered with hidden jaundice around her little clique, and they all agreed. One rolls their eyes, and a few sniggers at the action. Her eyes trail close to where you left.

It took a few minutes to lead you to Hanami's residence.

"Head Mother, I have brought Lady (Name) as per your request," Ubi announces, and the door slides open. She side steps to the side to allow you in without looking up.

You enter the room with quiet steps and sit on the zabuton, and before you can bow as a greeting, she lifts a hand to stop you. "There's no need." Hanami tries to mask her displeasure at seeing you, and you weren't stupid to not see it. It's just you didn't bother to point it out. Since she has an important matter to discuss and it involves you, Hanami decides to make it quick so your face isn't a constant reminder of your Aunt.

Hanami: "You're going to take over on welcoming my niece."

You: "Pardon? Isn't that supposed to be Lady Eisha's role?"

"Yes, it is," Hanami spoke as a matter of fact, "due to her ailing health, this task might be arduous for her since the doctor has told her to stay warm, so Eisha is taking bed rest to recover. Thus I'm assigning this to you."

Well, this is news to you. Out of all the people she could've picked, she had chosen you for such a task. You would have thought she might select one of the lower concubines to do the job. With her blatant prejudice against you. "Wouldn't any other concubine be better for the job?"

"Are you shrinking your role as the second wife of my son?" Hanami blurts out in annoyance as her tone rises an octave high; she looks up and down at you repeatedly with quick eyes. Like, you have gone crazy for even suggesting that.

With lips service smile, you retort back politely, "Head Mother, you seem to be offended by my innocent question. I'm only asking since you seem to tolerate my presence barely, let alone we haven't spoken to one another within five years of being married to your son. The only time we spoke was, instead, very brief and short, two days after the wedding consummation." It was the first greeting for the mother as a new in-law from the wife or concubine as respect.

Hanami clenches her jaws tightly; your sharp tongue and dim-witted acting seem to prick her nerves. You and your Aunt are very much alike in some ways, unbearable and arrogant. "Are you going to refuse my order?"

"Ah no," you quickly reply, "that would bring shame if I didn't uphold my duty as the second wife of Sukuna and Lady Eisha's left hand too."

Hanami didn't know if what you said was pure mockery, but each passing second in this room with you got her blood pumping in anger. "Since you have understood, you're dismissed."

You courteously bow deliberately (on purpose) to bid farewell before standing up with grace. Hanami was sure you were playing with her; your ungenuine smile wasn't even hidden. She curses daily due to her son's favoritism of you; you're like a plague that never vacates. And have you grown uncouth that you don't even respect her?

"Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) will be taking over Lady Eisha's task of welcoming your cousin in a few days," Uraume informed their master, who quirked a brow.

"Oh? So that brat of a cousin is visiting?" He asked no one in particular; it was more of saying it to himself out loud. "Mother has finally given her such an important task for once." The thought of his Mother warming up to you sounds so funny that he can't help but chuckle. His Mother barely tolerates the idea of you and loathes Sukuna himself for a self-evident reason sometimes. "Make sure my wife doesn't overwork herself and help her if necessary; I'll tend to her afterward."

Uraume silently left the room, and Sukuna mulled over his thought. He rests his temple against his knuckles and watches the candlelight flicker under a breeze. But in his spare hand was a familiar thick jewel; Sukuna toys around with a gold bangle with assorted gems in various sizes, colors, and labyrinth designs indented into the gold.

It was your bangle.

After the night he had spent with you, he took what's most precious to you, and it was what was given to you by your deceased parents. There were years of work on it, seeing how the inside of the jewel was fading away from constant use. Sukuna noticed how the clasps were loose, most of all when he kept twisting the bangle around to feel every rigidity and bump.

The more he looks at it, the more something seems off.

Sukuna barely saw small noticeable lines on the inside of the bracelet; it was in the shape of a square. A small hidden compartment; if his keen and trained eyes missed that tiny detail, he deserved to be killed on a battlefield for not seeing an enemy, ambush, or assassination. Still, Sukuna was curious and grabbed a small wooden toothpick to unlock the small door.

He was surprised when multiple seeds fell out of the bracelet when he shook them out onto the table. The color of the sources was rather old, seeing how raisin and dried they were. Something stirs in his chest, and he doesn't like it. Sukuna's fierce eyes were glaring at the jarring sight before him. Cold like Hell has washed over.

"Someone, go and fetch me the doctor. Right. Now." His voice was low, with his wrath was barely concealed through clenched teeth. "Now!" Sukuna repeats their voice bellows out from his room to outside when no one makes a move to move. One male servant scamps away to do what they're told out of fear.

You're crafty. He gives you credit for that; whatever you're hiding, he would sniff it out. Sukuna then set the jeweled bracelet down and ran a hand through his hair; he puffs out a shallow breath. He's barely an anxious man, but his opinions of you and your sensitive nature slowly etched their way into his mind as he started to pick them apart one by one in a logical sense.

When emotions run high, clouds of judgment obscure his views. Sukuna is a man led by ideals and a futuristic sense; scarcely emotions ever run by him. He knew deep down when he allowed himself to feel emotions, it would cause him trouble, and he was right. Few selected people could be worthy of his regard, but to him, it didn't change his output of you very much. He dislikes being blind by someone, even so, he fully lets himself be when it comes to you, but seeing differently from a different angle, Sukuna should know that you're not soft and malleable.

You're like glass, pretty in the light, but there are still sharp edges around it. You shouldn't be underestimated. When he thought he had you at the center of his palm, you find a way to slip away. The game of chase was a back-and-forth thing, with its up and down.

Sukuna took another breath and exhaled deeply, pushing away the negative introspections.

You were busy interacting and directing where everything should go the next few days. It almost felt like a routine when you were dressed up as your alibi, Seijuro Hajime. Your breath fogs up in front of you, and your nose itches when cold air brushes against it; turning your head to the side, you sneeze.

"You should dress up warmer for the occasion," a voice snuck up behind you, and you froze for a quick second when a heavy cape was draped around your shoulders. Sukuna had made his presence known, and the servants around you suddenly worked harder than before. You were about to shrug off his cape, but his hands were on your shoulders, "Keep it on."

Another moment of pregnant silence passed through; no servants bothered to be in your and Sukuna's line of sight. They make sure to steer clear away from the invisible bubble that was presented around their Lord of the House. Sukuna presses his broad front against your back; you can feel his heat seeping through, then he slides his hands down your shoulders until it reaches your cold hands. His callous palms envelopes your own, and there was a minor battle of you struggling to tug it away.

"Could you please let me do my job," you patronize Sukuna, who only takes it as amusement and doesn't move an inch.

"No, I came here to spend time with my lovely wife." He tunes out, and his voice is much lighter, much chirpy to your liking. "Do you want to know what I discovered today?"

"No," flatly refusing him, one of Sukuna's hands retracted for a second, and you felt something cold and heard a slight click on your wrist. You look down to see your bracelet that has gone missing adorned your wrist. Toring yourself away, you whirl around to meet his eyes; you accuse him with a quiet, burning, seething look, "So it was you who took it."

The corners of his lips quirk up. You have spent days looking for your precious bangle, even flipping your room upside down. You didn't think it was this menacing man in front of you swiping it right under your nose during that day he had forcefully bedded you. You even thought that you lost it during your outing to the castle and that anyone could pick it up and pawn it to set themselves up for life.

"It was a pretty little thing; I know it was a special gift to you from your parents. So I took it as an inspiration to see your taste, as you never wore what I gifted. " Sukuna explains while lazily giving you a nonchalant expression without losing his carefree nature. He lops his head to the side, "And here's the fun part, I fixed your little bracelet problems for you."

You clench your jaws and roll your eyes again with a deep breath, "There's nothing wrong with it."

"No, no, no," Sukuna tuts out as if he's dealing with a lying child, "There is a problem with it. You, my lovely wife here, have been plotting something bigger against me this whole time." The light in his eyes darkened and was replaced with something entirely devious. Mentally preparing yourself, Sukuna brushes his knuckles against your cold, bitten, ample red cheeks. "There are many things I've been tolerating from you," Sukuna's tone reeks of hurt and betrayal, despite failing to mask it, "but not this."

The hand caressing your cheek was suddenly behind your nape; Sukuna grips, and for once, he didn't care how he made you look in front of his servants, who were surprised at his treatment. Many hold their breath and further avoid the personal bubble as they could see trouble brewing between you both. All we're opting the long way to complete their task.

"You know I always wanted a child with you, but seriously, basil seeds?" Sukuna let out a haughty laugh when he saw your expression crumble a bit from fear of realization that he knew. "Yes, I now know what has caused your infertility."

The smile he wore never seemed so big and scary in front of you. Your mind was repeatedly reeling that Sukuna knew. He. Knew. Now you're not safe, and you can no longer avoid his advances.

Sukuna could see the vulnerability displayed before him; this was what he was waiting for. You're so open for him to take and relish. "I admire the length you're willing to go, and honestly, I genuinely do." You don't know what will come out of his mouth anymore. "No one can save you from me now. Not even your precious bracelet."

[Days Ago]

Sukuna patiently waited for the physician to arrive at his headquarters while drumming his fingers against the dark red oak table. His eyes trail to your bracelet that sticks out like a sore thumb, along with the seeds. The doors to his room snap open as the physician enters. "Finally," Sukuna said out loud; he has patience, but not today.

The doctor stopped in front of Sukuna and greeted him with a bow. "Lord Sukuna, w-what seems to be the problem?"

The man smirked, "You always seem to tremble whenever you meet me, but never mind that," Sukuna motioned with his head where the bracelet and seeds lay, "Tell me what is on the table." The physician saw and quickly took action.

They took a seed and examined it before sniffing it, and a faint scent emitted. "My Lord, this is basil seed."

Sukuna: "Basil?"

"Yes, basil." They confirmed it.

"What's so special about it?" Sukuna asks with interest.

"Lord Sukuna, basil seeds are used for many things, and especially if consuming it, doing it in small quantities once in a while not to cause side effects. Too much may cause bloating and abdominal pain. This is also used to help... " The medic explains in tangent detail.

"Then explain why it was inside the bracelet." Sukuna cuts to the chase when asking about something the doctor does and tends to run their mouth sometimes.

"A-Ah, yes." He took the bracelet from the table, "May I ask who the bracelet belongs to?"

Sukuna: "(Name)."

The doctor should not be surprised it was you. They took a moment to examine the bracelet and saw the open compartment door and sniffed the inside of the bangle, and found traces of it. "My Lord, how long has Lady (Name) worn this bracelet?"

The sound of urgency in his voice caught Sukuna's interest. "For as long as I married her. It was from her parents. What's the problem?"

Since there was no time stamp on how long, the doctor could only conclude one thing, "If Lady (Name) has worn this for a long time, then the cause of her infertility could be this all along." The words are like a cold wake-up call from the doctor; Sukuna's eyelids droop low with fury. The thought of you, 'How dare you (Name).' The doctor nervously continues, "Long exposure to basil seeds entering the bloodstream could thin out the blood, affect her hormones, and even her menstrual cycles. This could also explain—"

Sukuna raised a hand for the medic to shut their mouth as he was complimented on how he should deal with you and what he had just learned today. At first, he took your bracelet to understand your personal preferences, then return it to you later, and now he doesn't regret stumbling onto your long secret by chance. The amount of time he had bed you and you failed to conceive a child was out.

"You're dismissed, and keep your mouth shut." Then he looks at the corner where Uraume resides, "Take the bracelet to get it modified from a nearby jeweler. Fix the clasps and seal the door."

•

Taglist: @sukunasobject @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy​ @pinkrose1422 @skepticalleo @please-help-therapy-needed @whatsonthemirror @krispsprite @loser-alert @saturnknows @samdric @littlemochi @akigoat @mxghostbee @rose4958 @shadowywizardarcade @huicitawrites @baji-keisukes-wife @choso-wifey @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @sanderaen @peonnnny @tiredlattes @waytomanyhusbands @whatamidoing89 @utena-akashiya @outrofenty @welcometodemonschoolfan @im-a-killer-queen @loverisa @bubera974 @sashaphantomhive @chaoticstrawberryland @onetwo123three

[3liipzx]

WARING THIS CONTAIN EP 8 SPOLIERS IF U HAVE NOT WATCH IT PLS DON'T READ THIS UNTIL U ACTUALLY WATCH THE EP 8

NORI AND UZI INTERACTED tbh I was expecting uzi would be mad at her mom for abandoning uzi and khan but I will take this

Don't mind me my tablet being on low battery

FORGET WHAT I SAID ON TIKTOK I HIGHLY DOUBT NUZI BEING FULLY CANNON NUZI NOW CONFIRMED CANNON HELLOOOO!?!?

BRO LIAM REALLY SAID

"Fck it I will tell the fan base they're a thing"

Though I'm a little worry about nuzi haters and toxic envy shippers start drama just what happened after ep 6 boy I'm glad wasn't that Era nor had Twitter that time just hopefully there will be no a HUGE fandom drama strike

This why I like them being semi cannon but oh well I still gonna take that since I'm like a nuzi shipper

I want to add more videos here but unfortunately Tumblr doesn't allowed me to add more so I have to the make another post to add more ☹️

[lesbianslvt666]

Please please part two of road trip, I crave it

Road Trip?

College au!

Mean! athlete!Ellie x trying to stand up for herself! Kind of an art major?(f)reader lmao

Ofc not proof read

(Btw, I don’t know the credits of the photos I use for these, so if they are yours or you know who are these from, pls dm so that I can add them, thanks <3)

pt 1 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

Synopsis: Ellie and you are roommates in your shared dorm, both in different majors, you ever see each other when it comes to be at the dorm, on parties or with Dina, your shared best friend. At first Ellie was nice, always kept to herself but never mean, until she got her first college girlfriend, everyone keep telling you how much she looked like you, including Dina. So when Ellie "cheated" on her ex, her reputation went from friendly reserved football player, to fuck girl, "I got all the girls" asshole, or so it seemed to you…

Aight, I have been writing this while being in exam season, sooooo, sorry if this is shit lmao.

Also, another thing to note here is that there are some outfits on the future for YN here that I describe, normally don’t like to do that, cause maybe you don’t feel like that style fits you or whatever, so feel free to change that in your mind (also I don’t mind if you tag me on your own fit inspos, or send them 2 me?? I love fashion lmao) however, I do describe some for story purposes orrrrrr just cause I imagined YN waring something like that?? Idk lmao that’s it, I am just nervous lol.

I put up my yellow tinted glasses in my head while I entered the ban.

"holly fuck" I looked to my right, the small kitchenette, the drivers cabin.

to the left a very spacious corridor with a couch that could be built as a bed. in front of it, a tv that you could hide behind some cabinets.

further left, there was a small room. I approach the door to open it, a toilet, and a shower, very small, but better than nothing.

there was a door past that. Opening the door showed a big king sized bed. underneath space for storage, and some pretty reading lights to the sides of the bed. how the fuck are we four gonna fit here?

"fuck, it's so big right" Dinna was dancing around throwing herself in the spacious couch.

"bigger than my dorm for sure" I plop beside her.

Ellie, who had insisted on taking my luggage. Entered the van breathless from coming downstairs with it.

"you know, when you told me it was heavy? I thought you were joking" I rolled my eyes, standing up to help her get both our suitcases up the van.

"so... Jesse and I have already use some of the storage underneath the bed for our own things... there is some more beside de bathroom, and even more underneath this couch." her face showing a bit of remorse. giving away the fact that they had already claimed the room for themselves.

"look, we are gonna be here for two weeks, we can change the room to the sofa after the first week, yall get the grand finale!!" she was looking Ellie, with an innocent smile, her eyes tilted downwards a bit.

"is not all bad tho, look!" Jesse drew the couch revealing a queen sized bed. "see? Is not that big as the king, but yall get it next week." with a cheeky smile, he hold Dina from behind towards him and jumped in the couch. "umm… so comfortable…" I looked from Dina, to Jesse, to Ellie, I raised an eyebrow. "so… we'll be sharing bed?" I pointed back and forward, from Ellie to me, back to Ellie, back to me.

"well, yeah, unless one of yall wanna sleep on the passenger seat"

when Jesse was saying that, Dina pushed me to the room, and closed the door behind her. she was fidgeting with her fingers, "look, baby, I know you don’t like Ellie, and its gonna be a bit uncomfortable." she said while guiding me to the bed, sitting down and patting the space beside her.

"Jesse and I want some privacy... we are a couple after all." she was now bouncing her leg up and down, cleaning the sweat from her hands on her denim short shorts.

"look I am sorry… pretty please? I know Ellie is not a bad person and she won't hurt you, and if she tries something you know you can always tell me and-"

my mind was going 100 miles per hour, does she thinks I am kid? Of course I know that she was going to sleep with her boyfriend. I stopped her on her rant with my hand on her knee, also to calm down the bouncing.

"Dina, I am an adult not a kid. I knew you where gonna sleep with you boyfriend and I wasn’t expecting anything else, why are you-" she cut me off now. "is just, I don’t want you to not wanna come with us, and that you feel like I let Ellie drag you here for me. even tho it was her idea... I mean I do want you here but I-"

I put my hand in her mouth. my head was now spinning, "first of all Dina, I am not here cause Ellie dragged me, I wanted to come… with you…?" the last part sank in "her idea you said?" my eyebrow raised, my hand fell from her mouth "didn’t she told you?" her eyebrows curbed up, her face hit up, "she said it was your idea Dina…" silence fell "oops…?"

"Hey Dina! YN! I am driving to the nearest 7/11 to get some snacks, want something?" as soon as jesse said that, Dina jumped out of the bed, running towards the passenger seat, connecting her phone to the speakers and playing some music, I was left thinking, and soon enough we arrived to the 7/11, both Dina and Jesse went to get us things, Ellie went down to load some gas

I went out of the room, starting to put my clothes away, underneath the storage cabinets of the couch/bed. soon enough ellie was back

Why did she lied? There was no reason to do so, could've just say something like. "look we might be roommates for the next three years to come and I wanna make the passes with you. or, hey I wanna start again, let's be friends. or, we want to be four instead of three to split the bills more evenly" or whatever.

"shit!"

"fuck YN, what happened, are you okay?" Ellie kneeled down beside me. her eyes fell to my hands, the sting growing.

"crap, yeah I am fine, I caught my finger in the drawer when I closed it."

Ellie tried to take my hand but I sat down, gaining some distance from her. "I am fine, don’t worry, I was just distracted."

Ellies veiny hands were now stroking up and down her strong forearms. "shit, let me help you, you have any more clothes to put away?" her eyes where scanning still over my body, I came back to my posture, my hand hurting less and less. "don’t baby me Williams. I am fine, for real."

she rolled her eyes at that, planting on her feet when she stood up, looking down at me. "whatever, you are such bitch when you want to"

I rolled my eyes at her, my face felt hot. how fucking dare she call me a fucking bitch? I didn’t even said it in a mean tone... or did I?

I frowned my eyebrows, standing up and getting closer to her face. "fuck you, like you aren't worse than me."

she came closer this time, mare inches from me. I could smell her incredible scent, some of my baby hairs tickling her face from the proximity.

"I was just trying to be nice. tell me doll, a time I was more dreadful than you." well shit, if you ask!

I crooked my head to the side, looking at her eyes. expecting for her to be looking at me challengingly, but, her eyes were on my lips. I licked them drawing her attention back to my eyes afterwards

"the time where you ask me to get out of my class to bring you another pair of "cleats"." my fingers up making emphasis on the name. "well maybe if you didn’t doll yourself up with your pretty little high knee boots on a rainy weather." she interrupted me before I could finish.

Fall was starting. the weather in Seattle cold and humid. my brown leather boots splashing underneath the glistening floor. the splashes of the water beneath my soles weting the hem of my bell jeans. I was sprinting now, trying to get to Ellies practice on time. I looked at my watch, flicking my left wrist to my sight line, fuck, I am so late, I am so late.

From afar I could see her figure coming with her teammates. their chat was loud and I could hear their bright laughs from across the campus.

Ellie seamed mad, she wasn’t talking to none of the other girls. walking straight ahead with a look that could bury six feet deep, "Ellie! Fuck, I am sorry I am late, shit!" I came running as fast as I could, getting closer to her. "I don’t need you anymore" her eyes weren't even looking at me. "well damn, I was in class when you called me... came running all the way here while raining and trying not to fall" I was gasping for air. "whatever, your hero run is useless, the match is over." she tried pushing past me. I put a hand on her shoulder. "fuck you! here, your fucking trainers." I put her shoes on her chest, the nasty look she gave me would've intimidate me if I wasn’t so mad. I started to walk, "cleats" she said loud so that I could hear her "what the fuck?" I turned. I could feel hot air coming out of my god damn ears and nose. "they are not shoes, they are called cleats." her smug know it all smirk was enough for me. walking fast to get mare inches from her face, trying to reach upwards so that we could be in front of each other. "fuck you Williams. next time you call me in the middle of the class to go all the way from my class hall to the fifteen minute walk towards the dorms... on the fucking rain! and then come all the way to the courts! which mind you. is a thirty minute walk... make sure to call me at least forty five minutes in advance." she was quiet.

"and not to get mad at me when I can't get your fucking things in ten minutes" i said a bit les loud.

"well princess. next time don’t be so fucking slow, maybe if you did some exercise once in a while you could've done it faster" oh she did not…

"or what about the time you call me to pretend to be your date at that party to scare off your stalker and turned out on me. you left me half the party alone when you went smoking with your friends"

"or the time that one girl thought we were together after you fucked her at another party... and when she came crying and screaming you let me to solve your! fucking! problem! with her." her eyes grew, the memory flooded her vison. "fuck well that was different, I told you I didn’t had sex with her! she kissed me and then told the entire school that I dick and dash!" "YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A DICK!" "well not a real one, but that is exactly my point too!" her voice was a bit more high pitch, her hands going straight for her hair, "shit fine, I know you’ve got more, we are even…"

"why where you so upset tho? So distracted?" ellie now looking out the window, checking on Dina and Jesse that where still picking things up.

"i don’t know, I mean yeah I do know, but I am confused…" I was looking from my hands to the window avoiding her. "what do you mean?" she looked at me, her eyebrows furrowed. "just something that Dina said that took me by surprise" Ellie looked so confused, her eyes scanning my face. "she said that… me coming wasn’t her idea" Ellies eyes opened wide "it was yours?" silence fell between us. Her eyes now everywhere but me, her hands fidgeting and her feet bouncing "no, I mean, yes but not, well technically yes?" I interrupted her "why did you lied tho? I mean, why not tell me you wanted me here, maybe, I don’t know, you wanna make up from you being mean, or you just wanted to be nice?" I was now the one coming closer to her, stepping with every word until our shoes touched, she was looking at me. " I don’t wanna be nice to you princess. I didn’t wanted you to come with us, I offered it to Dina because I am a nice friend, that’s all."

her eyes went from my lips to my eyes, back and forth, her voice trembling, her veiny hands traveling to my hips.

the words she spoke would've hurt me if I didn’t knew her enough. without thoughts my own hands went straight to her waist. she pull me in closer, her grip stronger, our breaths getting more agitated. Our chest rising and falling so that sometimes our clothed breast slammed together. I might hate Williams, but she looked just so good... the last sunlight making her skin glow in a very delicate way. her freckles shining so preciously, highlighting all her features. her rough eyebrows with her sexy slit, her delicious lips that I longed to kiss since the last time.

"wanna kiss me Williams?" my voice sounded way smaller than I expected, but she heard it. "I wanna do more than that to you doll." she was so close, her lips almost touching mine, I wanted to close the kiss so bad but I was gonna make her work for that. I slowly moved my head a bit backwards her own face starting to chase after me. when she realised what I was doing she groaned, her hands roughly reaching for my ass, groping it hard. I let out a whimper, my cheeks glowing red but I didn’t care, she was so close to kissing me, I didn’t let her.

I went straight to her neck, placing warm and wet butterfly kisses all over it. Ellie let out some soft breaths, she was trying hard not to show how much she was enjoying. my grip on her waist softened, my hands travelled towards her breast. softly stroking them on top of her shirt. "fuck" now we were talking.

as soon as she let that moan out I smiled on her neck, and she took that opportunity to take me from my own. her large hand covering almost all of it, pressing hard. "Ellie…" shit. her smug face was so close to kissing me. she knew I liked being choke, hell, she knew almost all my fantasies. oversharing after parties and smoking weed together before she started to be mean. earned some very explicit talks.

"what the fuck?" the door opened fast and aggressively. "I can't believe it!" Ellie and I jumped from each other. I stumble to the couch and Ellie went walking to the little kitchen. I sat down crossing my legs, there was no other way to do so cause the ache between my legs was too painful, too good…

"LOOK! NINE DOLLARS. NINE FUCKING DOLLARS. FOR ONE, ONE! PACK OF MALVOROS!" Dina was screaming. furious, seemingly not realizing what just went down between Ellie and I. "damn, how many did you bought?" Ellies question earned a chuckle from Jesse. "four packs." Jesse said "and nothing less than two lighters." Dina plopped down on the couch. letting the plastic bags on the little table in front of it. grabbing one of the packs and a pink lighter "it was good deal okay? 25 cents each lighter? You kidding?" she lit the cigarette in between her speech. passing the pack to me, I took one, I was going insane from earlier and I needed some relief.

"well ladies, I am gonna take a pack to the front, yall can keep the other three" Jesse took the opened pack taking one cig in his lips, extending the hand to Dina "my lady, would you like to be my co-pilot for the evening?" the cig hanging from his lip.

Both took off for the driving cabin, I stood there smoking and looking at the window, Ellie doing the same, sitting on the other side of the couch, the music blasting.

After a couple of minutes, two beers down and half a pack of cigs, both Ellie and I were just dancing to Dinas music, the ambiance was beautiful, the sunset beaming through the windows, satanist by boygenious playing, the four of us singing so loud, Ellie took my hands on her, her feet bouncing side to side, my own trying to pick up on her poor dancing skills, I could hear Dinas laugh from behind us, our ugly dance moves making her laugh even harder.

One hour passed, I wanted to keep on dancing but I my feet were screaming for me to sit down, for at least a few minutes, Ellie, like a psychic, came closer to me, placing a water bottle in front of my face, I took it while looking at her beautiful eyes, the blue hour tinting everything beautifully, it felt like I was In a dream, and I did not wanted to wake up from it. 

This was supposed to be longer but I didn’t wanted you guys to wait more, I love writing this story, is so warm and flirty. Also I choose for it to be 5 parts cause I want all the smut in individual chapters, so you know where to go when you wanna read them :))

[jeanmoreaux]

I know that's a loaded question but is there a book you'd compare the locked tomb series to? I've seen very differing opinions on it and I'm trying to see if it's up my alley, I trust your opinion

it's hard because i cannot think of a book that compare in enough aspects...... i think form the way you have to piece the story and world together yourself, it remind of house of leaves (just. weird and confusing narration at times that evokes a feeling of disorientation) but of thematically there isn't that much overlap. it maybe you could also bring up this is how you lose the time ware because of the way you have to piece together the plot and world building elements and themes from context? i am only a 19 chapters into harrow the ninth so like i have no idea if that comparison holds up as a series, but it vaguely reminds me of the shades of magic trilogy AND the green bone saga in sense of scope??? idk idk. all these comparisons are severely lacking. but maybe if you smash all these things together you can get an idea of the *feel* of the book. it's definitely a casual read. it forces you to pay attention to get enjoyment out of it (much like house of leaves or tihylttw too i guess) if anyone has other good comparisons pls be my guest and add them!!

[cervicrazed]

Can I get the whole hog for Wilton Rader pls

Oh man...the og...

I have been so evil to this poor guy and i will do it again

OC lore for the poster boy of suffering below:

^ This is Wilton Rader (late 20s & mid 50s respectively)

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Wil here was the first victim of my 'W' name obsession

I didn't wanna give him a "boring" name like William, so I looked up variants that 'Wil' could be a nickname for + Wilton won

last name (Rader) was picked bc together his name means 'Wheelmaker Who Lives by the Stream' & it felt like a nice little easter egg foreshadowing his retirement

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

As of the Dead Wood storyline, he's in his mid-late 60s

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Walt!! They met after being recruited for a demonic civil war neither really wanted to take part in. They became nearly inseparable over the course of The War, but Wilton still had a hard time coming to terms with how he really felt. He was only able to admit his love for Walt many many years later, when he thought the world was about to end. your typical mlm confession

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Being the only member of his family that can't feed off of intangible emotions, he's forced himself to learn how to cook and is pretty good at it!

He's got terrible food anxiety regarding red meats, so he uses fish and eggs instead - he loves making quiches!

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Wilton is a woodworker! He goes into town every so often to sell his wares; anything from bed frames and cabinets to mini wooden sculptures

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Wilton likes to spend his free time reading, or at least practicing.

He never got the chance to go to school, so never learned to do it in his youth; a fact that he's embarrassed of but will never admit.

🎯 -What do they do best?

He insists his only talent is whittling & carving and will fervently refute anyone who says otherwise.

Unfortunately for him, it's hard for many to forget his fearsome and bloody past.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Aside from woodworking, Wilton loves to take long walks along the river, especially when it rains. It's a deeply calming experience for him.

He hates having to recall or talk about his younger years. Apart from meeting Walt, he doesn't believe there's anything good worth remembering, let alone telling his daughter.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Holding a baby Bambi in his arms for the first time. Well, "arms". She was so small that she fit into the palms of his hands and her teeth hadn't yet grown in; he stayed up all night just holding and rocking her.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

A tactical error during The War led to him and his troop being ambushed and his wings were ripped out for trophies. As punishment, he spent his entire recovery in a nightmare coma induced by the demon that lives in his brain.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

yes and no..

OG design is him as a youngin w/ a blue hoodie he never takes off (bc of the little antlers)

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

an RPG i was apart of run by @/fvriva on Scratch, my first social media

He was originally a mlp horse(?) turned human if you can fuckn believe it....

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Fantasy Body Horror

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Cis(?) + Aspec

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

Just Warren, but they don't talk much without interference from Bambi. After mauling him, Wilton doesn't feel like he deserves to have a relationship with his brother. He respectfully keeps his distance.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

TERRIBLE.

His father (Gindikouk) is a demonic spirit of decay who trapped and tortured him in his own mind for decades. Wilton wants nothing more than to forget about His existence entirely.

His mother (Fable Monroe) was a witch who only gave birth to him so Gindikouk could have a host body. She died before he could meet her, but that was probably for the best.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

The angst for sure, but also exploring how he heals from it.

It's pretty easy to traumatize a character but it's been more interesting to see how they put themselves back together.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

I used to write about and draw this guy all the time.

I've since let him "retire" so I can focus more on Bambi + co!

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

I had a lot of drafts where I killed him off and none of em felt like a satisfying end for him.

He's technically dead in Dead Wood, but that's after getting a happy ending so it's fiinnee

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

That Gindikouk will somehow worm His way back into Wil's life

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Gindikouk. hands down.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Since 2013 i think!

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

12!

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

DiscoPunk in their sophomore album

BackAlleyJazzLettuce _________________________

With guitarist Hobie Brown as frontman and bassist Diane Pastors on lead vocals, DiscoPunk is back with another hypnotic, hip-rocking, house-shaking, groundbreaking blend of funk fantasy and rebel rock.

Available wherever you buy vinyls. Or as a free playlist on Spotify & Deezer.

[feat. Royal Blood, Jessie Ware, Gorillaz, No Doubt, Kimbra, & early era The Black Eyed Peas]

Spin it on Spotify Drop the disc on Deezer

BONUS:

Alt covers and Tracklist under the cut (annndd rambling about Diane and Hobie)

ALT COVERS:

Full color - Vinyl Cover / Lights Out - Deluxe Ver.

The Tracklist: In case you'd like to listen to only the rock or funk, or are just curious which song is more Hobie and which is more Diane - I've colorcoded :)

blue for Hobie (rock), pink for Diane (popfunk), and purple for discopunk(-ish) ** - indicates the songs I think match the character/vibe best

disco tits - TOVE LO

** Hella Good - NO DOUBT **

Riot Rhythm - SLEIGH BELLS

** Momentary Bliss - GORILLAZ ( feat Slowthai) **

Hey Baby - NO DOUBT

Hey Mama - THE BLACK EYED PEAS

Lo/Hi - THE BLACK KEYS

Dum Diddly - THE BLACK EYED PEAS

Freak Me Now - JESSIE WARE

MANiCURE - LADY GAGA

FROOT - MARINA

Boilermaker - ROYAL BLOOD

Don't Phuck With My Heart - THE BLACK EYED PEAS

Good in Bed - DUA LIPA

Selfish Soul - SUDAN ARCHIVES

New Gold - GORILLAZ (feat Tame Impala)

Knee Socks - ARCTIC MONKEYS

** Free Yourself - JESSIE WARE **

Come Into My Head - KIMBRA

Figure It Out - ROYAL BLOOD

Take - LUX (feat. Kimbra)

Disco Club - THE BLACK EYED PEAS

and if you read all the way down here, thanks! tell me which cover you liked best if ud like pls :) i hope a kind stray animal of your choosing gives you affection next time u leave the house

_______________

and also AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (*whitney houston whistle*)

im SO happy with how hobie turned out

this just started off as drawing practice and uhhh me wanting to draw these two in an alley smoking reefer and partaking in pre-marital snogging and SUCH, but then it became an album thing and then i was like then i need to make a playlist so i did and i coukdnt choose a cover

and now these are my phone wallscreen

but as you can tell!!! i have like a whole story beginning to end with covering them knowing each other for YEARS and AHHH id never write it out but i love them like i already know what imma draw next

and if you read this far i actually love you thank you so much

[tinka-tank]

I have had this idea for some time now... a Pokémon au with the DC folks... I was only able to shit out these two for now but #TRUST I've been thinking abt the rest... like I for sure know Aiden is from Unova with one (1) Pokémon and it's a normal type 😭 just THAT

Anyways I do want help for more n stuff.. so if you wanna suggest or dm me pls do it omg

Anyways here we go !!

Tom:

I've decided that he is from Unova bc really it's the closest we have to Canada so 😭

Anyways I based his design straight up off of the policeman design in the gen 5 games for that reason, I like to think he has a past as a spy just like- well branching off to Pokéspe rn but in the manga the character Black two whatever the fuck his name is again is a kid slash teen spy police thing whatever I haven't read ts in awhile and I think that would have been Tom ! He would have been a teen spy slash policeman for the international police but like he experienced some. Things again. As seen by me keeping his scars and now as an adult I feel he is a cop in unova now... as for town slash city ? I don't fucking know yet like either castelia or nimbasa...

And I think he should have ONE partner that he's been through everything with but I can't decide whether it'd be Sawk, Machamp, or Scrafty yall can pick sishdbf I just think he needs a fighting type esp bc it's known as a hero type and police class uses fighting type

As for the next...

Jake:

Teen him- let's get into my Jake lore now !!

I do not know what region he'd be from being honest. The simplest would be unova, but I kind of lean towards a region from gen 4 bc of his teen design inspo being the psychic class trainers from gen 4... so either johto or sinnoh... not really sure

But anyways he used to be a psychic type trainer and extremely powerful with his psychic abilities in the sense that his emotions could destroy shit like think of Sabrina and caitlin how Sabrina has power limiters on and caitlin used to throw bitch fits when she'd lose a battle and I think that's Jake... he prolly sucked ass and was a disappointment to his parents or dad and would have meltdowns and break shit w his powers when upset #his telekinetis throws everything across the room moment

Anyways I think as an adult he'd grow to be able to control himself better at least no more psychic tantrums but still good ol being pissed off !! I think he'd switch to be a fairy type trainer and has remnants of his psychic past in his team slash design... I think he's a gym leader or maybe I could be nice and make him a frontier brain... but for now I see him as a fairy type gym leader with a clefable and mimikyu on his team and potentially hatterene grimmsnarl ?? I still have to decide on that

I like his design being more showy, I mean he was posing that one ep talkn abt model and I like to think he's canonically good looking Plus Paldean gym leaders have professions and so do unova ones etc.. I think he's a model in this world too or some kind of musician... not sure.. he just has the right to be extra... he's the most darkest fairy type trainer bc of his design.. probably implies his ace is grimmsnarl or mimikyu something of the sort...

Tomjake ? Girl they are wared up... as in I think Tom still avoids him and I'll wait to see if they kiss and make up based on what happens in dcas... but fighting type ? What's it weak against... ? Oh right. #violence

Also I think Miriam has or had an alcremie or smth or a fidough... just power... maybe Jake could gift her a fidough... I think Miriam is a powerful trainer in her own right perhaps a retired gym leader ? Gave her position to Jake ? Maybeeee...

[victor-cartoons]

I hope you are in good health 🌹

I am Youssef, I was a businessman and a sanitary ware importer, but the occupation destroyed everything I built over twenty years in one second.

am writing to you with a heavy heart and an urgent request for your help. due to the harsh conditions and the we have endured for About a year. We are facing immense challenges, So please read my story as if I were a member of your family, if my family is your family.🥺

Unexpectedly, my life took a drastic turn transforming me a into a person struggling for survival. 🥺

My wife Ataf and I created the GoFundMe campaign. to help me and my family rebuild our lives and meet our basic needs for food, drink, and other essentials in these harsh conditions. To create a project This will also help me continue my earn a living . At this critical moment, I implore you to share my campaign with your network, both offline and on social media platforms. Your advocacy is vital to our success.

I sincerely hope you can empathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us. Please be assured that any help brings us closer to our goal, and no matter how small your donation might be, it will make a significant difference in my family's lives.

Our campaign has been verified by many people،From it GazaVetters In line 88،Also, determinate-negation

Also by butterflyeffect.project On line 1120 🫱🏻‍🫲🏻🍃

Thank you in advance for your kindness and support. I am waiting for your response. ❤️

Pls help guys!!

[maxkartt]

I hope you are in good health 🌹

I am Youssef, I was a businessman and a sanitary ware importer, but the occupation destroyed everything I built over twenty years in one second.

am writing to you with a heavy heart and an urgent request for your help. due to the harsh conditions and the we have endured for About a year. We are facing immense challenges, So please read my story as if I were a member of your family, if my family is your family.🥺

Unexpectedly, my life took a drastic turn transforming me a into a person struggling for survival. 🥺

My wife Ataf and I created the GoFundMe campaign. to help me and my family rebuild our lives and meet our basic needs for food, drink, and other essentials in these harsh conditions. To create a project This will also help me continue my earn a living . At this critical moment, I implore you to share my campaign with your network, both offline and on social media platforms. Your advocacy is vital to our success.

I sincerely hope you can empathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us. Please be assured that any help brings us closer to our goal, and no matter how small your donation might be, it will make a significant difference in my family's lives.

Our campaign has been verified by many people،From it GazaVetters In line 88،Also, determinate-negation

Also by butterflyeffect.project On line 1120 🫱🏻‍🫲🏻🍃

Thank you in advance for your kindness and support. I am waiting for your response. ❤️

Pls support!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/please-help-us-get-out-of-lifes-crises-and-the-woes-of-war?attribution_id=sl:64661025-5cf2-4090-95d5-74a21cdd6ee2&utm_campaign=man_sharesheet_dash&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=whatsapp

[neptun333]

I hope you are in good health 🌹

I am Youssef, I was a businessman and a sanitary ware importer, but the occupation destroyed everything I built over twenty years in one second.

am writing to you with a heavy heart and an urgent request for your help. due to the harsh conditions and the we have endured for About a year. We are facing immense challenges, So please read my story as if I were a member of your family, if my family is your family.🥺

Unexpectedly, my life took a drastic turn transforming me a into a person struggling for survival

I have me and my wife Etaf created a campaign to help me and my family rebuild our lives and meet our basic needs for food, drink, and other essentials in these harsh conditions. This will also help me continue my earn a living . At this critical moment, I implore you to share my campaign with your network, both offline and on social media platforms. Your advocacy is vital to our success.

I sincerely hope you can empathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us. Please be assured that any help brings us closer to our goal, and no matter how small your donation might be, it will make a significant difference in my family's lives.

Our campaign has been verified by many people and you can check it too dear 🫱🏻‍🫲🏻🍃

Thank you in advance for your kindness and support. I am waiting for your response. ❤️

Just shared your post, everyone pls share and donate if u can

[druidgroves]

Chapter 08: Rhythm of the Rain

Fandom: Fallout 4 Words: 7,844 Characters: Georgia Tate (Canon Divergent Sole Survivor), RJ MacCready Notes: hi this is one of my fav chapters so far pls enjoy >:3c

read on ao3 ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 / ch. 4 / ch. 5 / ch. 6 / ch. 7

For the next three weeks, the settlement game became a hell of a lot easier. They’d rock up to wherever, the Boss would charm the settlers silly with her lofty promises for aid, and they would pay her with whatever caps they could scrape together. The first time Mac had actually tried to press her into asking for more–there was no way he was clearing out a possible feral den without proper reimbursement–she had fixed him with a look so severe that he almost ate his words. She ended up giving him part of her share to make up for it, and Mac had been in no hurry to stop her.

She had given him his weekly pay three times in that interim, always on time and with her promised compensation when caps were low. By the time the Boss would be ready to head back to the city at the end of the month, his pack would be full to bursting with all he’d earned under her. For all the good samaritan work they were doing for the Minutemen, at least working with the Boss was never without reward, and it certainly wasn’t dull.

However, if he didn’t know it before, after three weeks on the road with her, Mac found out the Boss talked a lot.

He might as well have learned everything about her for how much she talked. He learned that her favorite color was something called “blush pink”, that she preferred Nuka-Cherry to Nuka-Cola, and that she had a strong hatred for any sort of bug (that one he knew already after the Radroach Incident, but it only became more clear after the later Bloodbug Incident). He learned that she enjoyed cooking but disliked doing it on the road, loved books but had a weird hang-up about “bending the spines”, and hated the song “A Wonderful Guy” whenever it played on the radio, but would be humming it under her breath an hour later. In addition to her books, he found her to be a magazine collector as well–he’d even gotten a few new comics out of it.

“Bullshit,” she had said one day as they walked. “Are you really tryin’ to tell me that Grognak could take on the Silver Shroud? And win?”

“Grognak could smash that nerd’s head in with his axe, easy,” Mac argued, kicking a rock in the road that Dogmeat went chasing after. “What could the Shroud do? Talk funny at him? Please.”

“Oh, them’s fightin’ words, Mac! So, here’s why you’re wrong—”

(She had then gone on for ten minutes straight).

Mac also learned things about the Boss that weren’t so straightforward as her telling him about herself. Instead, he learned through watching. Not in a creepy way, but in the way that two people traveling together naturally ended up watching each other–sometimes they were the only interesting thing around. He saw that she kept three bobby pins in her hair; two for pinning her low bun in place and one for picking locks. He watched when she would type faster than anyone he’d ever seen, fingers flying over the keys as she hacked her way into any terminal that caught her fancy. He’d seen her cut herself off mid-sentence, then switch the direction of her words like she was avoiding something, but he never called her on it. He saw when she popped a Rad-X before every meal and whenever she brushed her teeth every morning. He knew she had a particular way she packed her things, always pushed her glasses up with her middle finger, and always made a face whenever he’d pick over raider corpses.

“Y’know, this would go a lot faster if you’d help,” Mac had said one evening as he shoved his hand into the inner pocket of one of their vests, coming out with a few cigarettes and some caps.

They’d been clearing the road for traders heading northwest from one of her Minutemen settlements—raiders had been attacking their caravans and stealing their wares, and they’d finally found the hideout as well as the missing cargo. Mac couldn’t remember which settlement had sent out the call, only that they’d gotten word over Radio Freedom and would be paid one hundred and fifty caps upon their return.

The Boss had tried a charismatic approach when they came up to the “toll” the raiders had put up, but it had turned into a shootout the moment their leader recognized who she was. The fact that the guy whose corpse he was now picking over knew her by title concerned Mac, in so far as his connection to her. He had to remind himself that as General, she was still a known quantity, and he was willingly tagging along with her. When all was said and done, though, Mac didn’t mind the extra spoils he got when it came down to the mighty General of the Minutemen’s disdain for picking over bodies.

He looked over his shoulder to where he knew the Boss had been standing, watching him with thinly veiled abhorrence. Her arms were crossed and her nose was scrunched up like she’d smelled something awful.

“Where I’m from, that’s called desecration of a corpse. If I can help it, I’d rather not go diggin’ around in someone else’s pockets,” she said, averting her eyes as he began patting over another body.

Mac almost had to laugh as he pulled out a handful of shotgun shells from their pockets. Scavving off cadavers was standard wasteland practice as far as he was concerned–the dead had no use for extra ammo or a handful of caps. He’d always heard that you “can’t take it with you”, but he figured someone else always could, and he quite liked being that someone else. It paid well.

“So, I guess you’re not interested in these then, right?” he asked, and held the shells aloft for the Boss to see.

“Well, I mean, I am, but—”

(She’d stuck her tongue out at him when she took them later–another one of her little habits).

By the middle of that second week, Mac had come to realize there were many things about the Boss that he couldn’t quite make sense of.

His big theory was that she’d come from a vault, he just hadn’t figured out how to ask which one. He didn’t want a repeat of that night in the library when she closed up faster than a bear trap after his big mouth got away from him. He had a feeling she kept her personal business close to the chest, but even so, he was still incredibly curious about her. He’d decided that she couldn’t have been from any of the local vaults early on, given that two were overrun with Gunners and another by triggermen. Mac was fairly confident in the idea that she couldn’t be from Vault 81 simply because none of their traders that he’d seen and heard sounded like the Boss with all her clipped G’s and long I’s. They all had some variation of the Commonwealth on their tongues that he could never imagine her speaking with.

There was also the Boss’ strangest habit of saying things that didn’t quite make sense. Three weeks to the day they met–it was January something, all Mac knew was that the New Year had come and gone while they were busy doing a clean up job on some mutants–a radstorm rolled over the Commonwealth, long overdue.

He had smelled the radiation on the air before the telltale green clouds made themselves known, and when the geiger counter on the Boss’ Pip-Boy started clicking, it hadn’t taken much to convince her to duck into the nearest building. After they made sure it was clear of hostiles and the Boss had dispensed some Rad-X for the two of them, they had settled into one of the Slocum’s Joe booths to wait out the storm. Dogmeat was tucked under the table between them, fallen asleep last Mac knew.

Now, the sounds of Diamond City Radio played softly from the Boss’ Pip-Boy, marred by static and Travis’ anxious reporting. An hour had passed and the storm showed no signs of letting up any time soon, hellbent on making sure the Commonwealth remembered what mother nature was capable of. Mac had pulled out his comics a while ago, knowing they’d be there for a bit, while the Boss had contented herself with chain smoking and watching the rain through the window, humming quietly along to the radio.

“Funny which songs survived two hundred years,” she said suddenly, a cloud of smoke hanging in the air around them as “The Wanderer” faded out. Her words pulled Mac out of his issue of the Unstoppables.

“Huh?”

“If it were up to me, I’d’ve let both parts of ‘Butcher Pete’ go the way of the old world,” she continued, the corner of her mouth curling slightly.

Thunder boomed high above them as Travis’ voice came on the radio again. The Boss frowned and, without tearing her eyes away from the storm, lowered the volume on her Pip-Boy a few notches.

“What about ‘A Wonderful Guy’?”

“That one, too.”

Silence fell between them again after that, so Mac went back to reading his comic. The Boss ashed her cigarette onto an old dinner plate. The quiet lasted all of two minutes before she spoke again.

“How long do these things usually last?” she asked, nodding towards the window.

“What? Oh,” Mac replied, pulled out of his reading once again as he followed her gaze. “Depends. Haven’t had one in a while, so this one looks like it’s gonna be a beast.”

The Boss seemed both captivated and concerned by the storm, her eyes having never left the window since they sat down in the booth. She was bathed in the glowing green light provided by both the storm itself as well as her Pip-Boy. She looked at the sky like she was trying to study it, entranced by how the clouds rolled over themselves and bounced around jagged bolts of lightning. The light reflected in her glasses, the crack in the right frame fracturing the view into several smaller ones. Thankfully, the crack hadn’t been large enough to render her glasses obsolete, and in the few weeks they’d been together, Mac knew well enough that she was blind as a damn molerat without them.

“So we might as well get ready to hunker down, huh,” she muttered after a bit, finally turning away from the window.

She sighed and put out her cigarette, then began poking through her pack. She came away with a bottle of Rad-X, the pills inside rattling as she took it out. It was her own personal stash–Georgia’s, DO NOT TOUCH written on duct tape slapped over the label, but she shook out two capsules despite it. She dry-swallowed one before holding out the other for him.

“You’re real paranoid about rad sickness, Boss,” he said, but took the capsule anyways–far be it from him to refuse anything free. “No offense.”

“‘Scuse me for not wantin’ my insides to turn bright green.”

“Pretty sure that’s not what happens.”

“It’s called a joke, Mac.”

“Really? Then you need better material.”

“I’m gonna start callin’ you Mac the Mouth, I swear. Nothin’ but sass from you,” she laughed as thunder and lightning crackled outside. Mac was suddenly grateful for the miraculously still-intact glass in the windows nearest them, and the boards covering the ones further away.

“Wouldn’t be the worst name I’ve been called,” he shrugged, closing his comic book and stowing it away in his pack to swap for his journal and a pencil.

She stuck her tongue out at him as he opened his journal to a blank page near the back. The Boss was a very chatty woman, her endless need for conversation pulling him out of his reading more than once, so he opted to scribble instead. Doodling never required much focus from him, so if the Boss kept talking, it wouldn’t be as much of a bother.

“You draw?” she asked as he put his pencil to paper, her interest piqued. Mac felt heat creep up the back of his neck as he reflexively shifted his arm to hide the pages of his journal.

“I wouldn’t call it drawing, really. Mostly uh, comic stuff,” he said with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. “They’re not good, believe me.”

She pursed her lips, disbelieving, “C’mon, don’t put yourself down. Can I see?”

“They’re just doodles. They’re nothing serious, I promise,” he said, trying to get her to lay off.

“Please?” I won’t make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“They’re really not anything special,” he tried to insist. “I just followed those step-by-step instructions in the back of my comics.”

“Okay, but I don’t wanna look at the instructions, I wanna look at your’s.”

Mac groaned, running a hand down his face. Knowing that she could keep pestering him forever if she put her mind to it (she was nothing if not stubborn, he had come to find out), he relented, leaning back and turning his journal around for her to see. He had started sketching out a body but had stopped mid-torso, and suddenly feeling like he needed to impress her with his mediocre artistry, he flipped back a few pages to some of his other work. The Boss’ eyes grew wide with curiosity and glee as he did, putting her short, delicate-looking fingers on the pages but leaving the journal where it was on the table.

“Mistress of Mystery fan?” she asked with a grin as she looked over the page, his best rendition of the femme fatale winking over her misshapen shoulder with a crooked eye. He was pretty sure he’d accidentally skipped over a step somewhere in there.

“Like I said, mostly comic stuff,” he shrugged again, feigning indifference to any opinion she had about his drawings. Even if he wasn’t his own biggest fan, there was the tiniest part of him that wanted her to like them, even a little bit. He quickly stamped it out like a cigarette butt on a sidewalk and moved past it.

The Boss looked up at him expectantly when she began pulling at the corner of the page, as if asking for permission to peruse further. Biting the inside of his cheek, Mac nodded hesitantly, thinking suddenly of all the half-written letters to Duncan towards the front.

“Just don’t go too far.”

She gave him that familiar, sparkling smile, all excited and full of perfectly straight teeth as she nodded and turned the page. A half finished bust of Grognak in a power pose was in one corner next to a detailed depiction of his axe, while a simpler doodle of a super mutant in a similar muscle-flexing pose stood in the opposite corner. It garnered a laugh out of the Boss as she turned the page again, flipping to one of his other attempts at drawing without a guide.

Mac grimaced. He’d forgotten about that one.

“...A Mr. Handy?” she tried after a minute, raising an eyebrow and biting her lip.

Mac sank into his seat, looking away as he said, “...It’s Dr. Brainwash. From the Unstoppables. Y’know, this guy?”

He flipped open the top of his pack and pulled out the edge of the comic he’d put away earlier. The Boss’ eyes flitted from his journal to the comic book, trying to fight a laugh the longer she looked between them. He knew he butchered it, but shit, she didn’t have to be so obvious about it.

“Oh, of course,” she said, and he could tell she was trying her hardest to keep up a supportive front. “Silly me. Looks…looks just like him.”

“You said you weren’t going to make fun of me.”

“I’m not! It looks so good, Mac, I promise. You really tried and that’s what matters.”

“Alright, alright, hand it back if you’re gonna be like that,” he chided, narrowing his eyes at her.

The Boss finally laughed, closing his journal before sliding it back over the table. He’d never really shown people his doodles, never had anyone ask, but he honestly should have expected it from the Boss the moment he pulled them out.

“Really, Mac, you’re an artist. Don’t matter if you’re ‘good’ or not,” she said, more earnestly than her other comments, and leaned back as Dogmeat let out a snore from under the table. Mac had almost forgotten he was there; he’d been still and quiet since he disappeared under the table.

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to call me an ‘artist’, but uh, thanks, I guess,” he said, flipping the journal back open to the page he’d been on.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Picasso,” the Boss said with a definitive sigh as she slid out of the booth. He made a face at the unfamiliar name, but left it at that. “I’m gonna poke around, see if there’s any good scrap.”

She turned up the radio again as she left, the end of Travis’ reporting filtering through the static as he shilled ads for Arturo’s shop, before giving way to more music. Dogmeat shifted under the table by Mac’s feet as he returned to his drawing. He could hear the Boss humming to herself as she went behind the diner counter, opening cabinets and drawers and rummaging through them.

Now, Mac understood resourcefulness. He really did. He could appreciate getting crafty when supplies were short at hand. What he couldn’t abide by, however, was the woman’s ridiculous hoarding of junk. Because that’s what it was despite her reasoning that it had use “somehow.” He point blank refused to carry any of her crap when she tried once more to lighten her haul onto him. He eventually sat down and ran her through what would and wouldn’t sell on the market last he knew, the going rates for various choice scrap, and what was better left behind in an effort to be more efficient in what she scavved. The Boss was still working on that last part, unfortunately. Her pack jingled with matching salt shakers and a vase wrapped in her spare clothes, tucked next to a framed picture and faded postcards taken off the walls of the various places they’d been through. It was all old world junk to him, but she delighted in picking them out of the two hundred year old ruins and looking over them with reverence.

By the time he was done drawing and redrawing the Silver Shroud’s jawline before giving up, the Boss was pouring her newest haul over the table. A Nuka-Cherry (off to a good start–he couldn’t begrudge her a soda every now and then), a handful of caps (even better), a pair of thick rubber gloves (alright?) and a pile of holotapes with faded orange plastic (...interesting).

“Look at what I found,” the Boss said as she sat down, popping open her soda on the edge of the table and flicking the cap over to him. Mac caught it with a sniper’s reflex, looking over the pile before him.

She picked up one of the holotapes, holding it up to her face to look for any indication as to what was on it as she took a sip from the bottle. “There was a pile of holos in an old drawer in the kitchen and I wanted to look at them ASAP.”

“Of course you did,” he said and she clicked her tongue at him. He rolled the cap across his fingers as he tacked on, “Plenty of people out there are willing to pay good caps for working holos. Most people end up wiping the memory for their own uses, though.”

“And erase what’s on ‘em? God, how much information has been lost that way?” she said, suddenly looking very distraught at the idea. She shook it off after a moment, shaking her head, “Well, I’m not wipin’ ‘em. If I’m right about what’s on them, they’ll be worth keepin’.”

She put her drink on the table and pulled her Pip-Boy closer to her. Mac watched as she hit a button or a switch or whatever, and a tray popped open on the top. She slipped one of the tapes inside at random before closing it and pressing play. It took a second for the tape to start, skipping a little at the beginning, but as soon as music began to play, the Boss’ face lit up like the stadium lights over Diamond City.

“Oh, my god, I know this song!” she cried out in excitement, cranking up the volume over the rain now beating against the window with fervor. The music was upbeat and inviting, and it showed in the way the Boss started climbing out of the booth again, feet tapping and hips swirling as soon as she hit the floor.

“Come, let’s stroll / stroll across the floor / come, let’s stro-oh-oh-oll / stroll across the floor / now turn around, baby / let’s stroll once more…”

Mac watched her in puzzled amusement, mouth curling at the corners despite the shaking of his head. The Boss strolled across the diner, her moves simple but done with a certain swagger exaggerated by the way she moved her shoulders and rolled her hips to the music. All the commotion woke up Dogmeat from under the table, who padded out to join his owner once he saw her moving about. He looked up at her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he pranced in circles around her. The Boss laughed, carefully sidestepping around the hound before finally catching Mac shaking his head at her.

“What are you doing?”

She laughed again, still dancing as she raised her voice over the music, “You dance, Hotshot?”

Mac barked out a laugh, shaking his head fervently, “Not a chance in he–uh, no way, Boss. Not enough caps in the world to convince me.”

“Hundred and fifty got you walkin’ with me all over the Commonwealth, though,” she pointed out with a smirk, slinking back over towards him.

“True, but I never learned how to dance, so.”

“C’mon. How much more to get you to bust a move?”

“Sorry, Boss, contract’s already been signed. No new amendments,” he said, tipping his hat to her with a flourish and she laughed, throwing her head back. It was easy to make her laugh, he’d found out.

“Where was that attitude after the library job?” she quipped as the music began to fade.

“Dunno, guess I just found it.”

Mac gave her his shit-eating grin and a shrug as she made her way back over and fell into her side of the booth in a heap, Dogmeat hopping up to sit beside her. She settled back and turned down the volume on her Pip-Boy as the next song began to play.

“What brought all that out?” he asked finally, curious to her reasoning.

“Memories of better times,” she said after a beat, quiet.

Mac had a rush of deja-whatever, bringing him back to that time in the library, when he’d asked what he thought was a simple question that only belied a more complicated answer. She’d shut down faster than the lightning currently streaking across the sky outside. For a moment, the air between them seemed to change, but it passed just as quickly as it had rattled through him. The Boss still had her smile on, if a little strained, but he knew they were good.

“Used to have a bunch of gal pals that I would go out dancin’ with,” she said after a moment, already lost in whatever memory she was recounting. “God, there was this one time we went out to this new dance hall we’d never been to. They played that song and everyone but my friends and I were dancin’ all stiff and formal-like, it was like they’d never been to a party and the word ‘dance’ wasn’t in their vocabulary.”

Her attention had once again returned to the storm, staring out at the south Boston sky. Mac had about a billion questions from her opening line alone, but he didn’t dare speak out for fear that she’d clam up if she realized what she was doing. He kept stone still as he continued to listen, years of hard-won sniper training settling over him.

“People were pairin’ off all save-room-for-jesus style and my friends and I were completely over it,” she said with a vague annoyance in her voice. “We were standin’ there next to each other across from a couple people who must’ve had the same idea it seemed, because as soon as we paired off and hit the floor, we were doin’ about half of what I did, except two feet closer and practically on top of each other.” She paused to bring her hand up to loosely twirl one of the strands of hair at the back of her neck. “Goodness, the way we did it, you’d think we had stripped naked by the reactions of the–and get this–dance hall monitors. They kicked us out for ‘immoral behavior’ and ‘vulgar dancin’.’ Can you believe it?”

The Boss finished her story with a breathless laugh to Mac’s confused but attentive expression, crystal-clear nostalgia washing over her after she was done. Half of the things she’d just said barely made any sense to him no matter what context he put it in, but the big picture of it clicked for him immediately: he’d had her pegged wrong all along. Unless she was lying for fun, which didn’t seem her style, then she wasn’t from any sort of vault period, not with a story like that. What kind of vault had whatever the hell a ‘dance hall’ was? Let alone more than one? And what the hell were dance hall monitors?

As Mac sat there in his realization, soaking up that tiniest bit of personal information from her, he realized that for all he had learned about her in the past few weeks, from menial shit like her morning routine to her eating habits, he still didn’t know a goddamn thing about her.

“Hellooo? Earth to MacCready?”

The Boss’ hand waving in front of his face brought him back to reality, his mouth moving faster than his brain as he blurted, “I’mfromtheCapitalWasteland.”

“What?”

“I’m from the Capital Wasteland,” he repeated, clearing his throat. “I mean, where I’m from, we didn’t have whatever a dance hall is or that song or dance hall monitors. Where the hell are you from that has all of that?”

Before she could answer, all his mind could supply was deja-vu.

Just like the library, the Boss’ face fell and she was leaning back slowly on her side of the booth, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive shield. Mac was already mentally kicking himself for him and his goddamn mouth, prepared for her to stonewall again and shut him down. But she didn’t.

“It’s…a long story,” she said finally with a sigh, once again reaching up to tug at the loose blonde curl at the nape of her neck. Mac watched as she wrapped it tight around her finger, skin going red between the strands. “More confusin’ than is worth it to tell.”

He raised a helpless eyebrow as she continued to fidget, “More confusing than the one you just told me?”

“One hundred percent. It’s not that I don’t trust you, ‘cause I do,” she said like it was that easy, and Mac didn’t quite know how that made him feel. Either she was too trusting (entirely plausible) or he was too cagey (also likely). “It’s just…a lot.”

“I could try to follow along,” he dared to say, taking advantage of the way she continued to talk to him through the crack in the metaphorical door instead of closing it entirely. He had his foot in, maybe he could wiggle in a little more.

“Soon, maybe, just…not tonight,” she said, her metaphorical chain lock catching his metaphorical door with finality. “It’s a little hard to talk about. Too much to get into.”

That, Mac could understand. Feelings weren’t really his forte, he never felt confident in what to do with them. But what sort of place did the Boss come from that made her so evasive? If she wasn’t from a vault, where did she get the Pip-Boy still playing quietly on the table? Very little about his employer made sense—General of the Minutemen, First Ever Rad-X Addict, the only wastelander (?) with teeth that straight, and a vulgar threat to dance halls everywhere, apparently—and it was almost enough to make Mac’s head spin.

“Can I ask you a question about your first story then?” he asked instead of the thousands of other questions he had, burning to be asked.

Her eyebrow, the one with the scar through it, arched behind her glasses.

“You got kicked out of a hall where you dance…for dancing?”

Like neon light breaking through Goodneighbor’s haze, the Boss’ grin reappeared. The green light of the radglow illuminated them in the darkness of the diner, glinting off her glasses as she began to laugh.

“Vulgarly,” she reminded him between her laughter. He couldn’t help but join her and suddenly it was like everything was back to normal between them, personal revelations notwithstanding.

Later that night, when the storm had finally moved on but had stuck around long enough that the skies were still dark afterwards, they set up their sleeping bags behind the diner counter. Dogmeat settled up against the Boss as Mac volunteered to stay up for first watch. The Boss had looked particularly tired, and had stopped talking as much as the night went on. If Mac knew anything about her at this point, it was that if the Boss wasn’t talking, something was wrong. Sleep usually fixed most problems in his experience.

Besides, he needed some time to himself to sort through the emotional whiplash he’d experienced during their conversation. Mac thought he had her mostly figured out, given all her previously thought “obvious” tells. Then one little story had turned everything on its head and replaced it with burning curiosity. The Boss was an enigma all her own, every new fact he learned about her canceling out anything he thought he knew. Even so, he couldn’t help the gnawing need to make sense of her.

He chalked it up to wanting to know exactly whose hands he was putting his life into, but then again, he’d made it out alive of every situation she’d put him in after three weeks. He could trust her to do that, at least, even if he was only holding out for Duncan by the time she’d met him. She’d given him a little bit of slack in his rope, so to speak, when she hired him. Gave him a little bit of hope at the end of a long, dark metro tunnel.

But, since he wasn’t ever allowed to be particularly hopeful for very long, he bitterly reminded himself that what they had going couldn’t possibly last. How long did she tell her reporter friend it would be before she’d be back to Diamond City? A month? He knew how most contracts like their’s worked: some schmuck hires you, sticks around with you until they can make their way back to a major settlement because pissing off a hired gun on the road isn’t the smartest move if they’ve hired you for a reason, and then end business there before picking up another gun somewhere else. It was similar to caravan work, the brahminhands and caravan guards trading off walking alongside whichever traders paid well. And with how good the Boss paid…

He had a week left, he decided suddenly, selfishly. He had a week left to convince her that he was irreplaceable, if only because it meant more caps to send back home if she decided he was worth keeping on. He’d pretend like her goody two-shoes, above and beyond approach to the Minutemen didn’t make him roll his eyes sometimes, pretend that her cryptic hints into her life weren’t driving him nuts, and he’d never miss a target coming through an unnoticed exit. He’d keep watching her back, help keep her alive until she realized that he was better than any soldier from her rinky dink militia. His own survival–the survival of his son–depended on it.

----------

The next morning on the road, over a breakfast of scavenged pre-packaged food the Boss had found after another sweep of the kitchens, Mac could tell she had something on her mind. Given the tone of the night before, he kept it simple between them and didn’t talk much except to eat and pack up.

Dogmeat took point ahead of them once they were on the road, and in between keeping his own head on a swivel, Mac’s eyes would fall to the Boss every now and again. He knew the night had ended on a heavy note, and he’d also had a lot on his mind after, but the longer they walked and she still hadn’t started her usual errant chatter, he began to worry. She hadn’t even told him where their next stop was, he realized.

“So,” they both said at the same time.

“Oh, you go first,” the Boss said quickly before he could say the same.

“So,” Mac said again, “where are we headed next?”

“Oh, shit, I forgot to tell you, we’re goin’ to the Castle. Tuned into Radio Freedom for a bit before you woke up,” she explained, tapping the screen of her Pip-Boy through her jacket. “Someone named Ronnie Shaw really wants to talk to me—put the message on repeat out on the main line and everythin’—and she didn’t sound like the type to be kept waitin’, so gotta heed the call and all that.”

“Good thing we were already in the neighborhood then,” he said, then spun it back around to her, “So what were you gonna say earlier?”

“About last night,” she said after a moment, hesitant. “I don’t mean to be so…cagey sometimes. I just have a lot goin’ on that’s hard to explain, but then I realized that I still don’t know a whole lot about you, either, so I thought maybe we could make a game out of it. Like an icebreaker.”

“What’s an icebreaker?”

“Gettin’ to know each other, ‘breakin’ the ice’, y’know,” she said, and he shook his head to indicate that he did not. “It’s supposed to help with team bondin’ and all of that. I get that you gotta keep up with your whole ‘cool, loner mercenary’ schtick, so it may sound a bit gradeschool–”

“Wait, you think I’m cool?”

“Don’t let it go to your head. Anyways,” she went on, attempting to suppress a grin, “I was just thinkin’, we’ve spent a few weeks watchin’ each other’s backs, patchin’ each other up–well, mostly you patchin’ me up, but that’s besides the point. We’ve walked from one end of the Commonwealth to the other it feels like, but if we’re gonna be workin’ and travelin’ together, I think it’s high time we play the ‘gettin’ to know you’ game for real. Ever play Twenty Questions?”

“No, but I think I get the idea. Seems pretty obvious,” he replied with another shake of his head. If a silly little game was the way to make sure she stuck with him, then so be it. He could humor her and play along for what she was paying him.

“Great. One caveat, though,” she said, and he arched an eyebrow, “we can veto any of each other’s questions and we don’t have to explain why. We just can’t veto everything.”

The rule was probably more for her benefit than his given her whole…thing, but he was glad it was there just in case. God knew he had his own baggage he didn’t want to get into.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright then, you first. Ask away.”

Caught off guard, Mac thought for a minute. His litany of questions were nowhere to be found now that he was put on the spot.

“Shi–uh, crap, I dunno. Uh…How about this: If you’re not from a vault, where’d you get that Pip-Boy?” he asked, nodding to her arm.

“I never said I wasn’t from a vault,” she said matter-of-factly, and he held in a sigh at her evasive answer. She tugged the sleeve of her jacket up to tap her nails against the screen of the device, “but I got this from one.”

“Obviously. Boots, too?” He pointed to the practically pristine condition of the black leather on her feet. Barely a scuff on them.

“Aht, my turn to ask a question, Hotshot,” she said with a cheeky grin. She bit her lip and tapped her chin with her finger, thinking. “What’s with the swearin’? Or the lack of it, actually. You’ve heard my mouth, I’m not gonna make you wash your mouth out with soap, y’know.”

Mac grimaced. He knew that had to come up sooner or later.

“It’s not about you, it’s about a promise I made to someone that I wouldn’t do it anymore,” he replied after a moment. He, too, could reply with non-answers. “Or at least try not to. Still a work in progress, I guess.”

“Hm. Interestin’.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is that your question?”

“No. My question is…” He thought for a second, choosing his next words carefully. He perked up when they came to him. “Where’s your accent from? You don’t sound like you’re from Boston.”

“God, I hope not. Can you imagine?” The Boss laughed, then put on her best Boston accent, “‘Wicked smaht, get a load a’ this fahkin’ guy!’ Jesus.”

Mac snorted, “I’m pretty sure you just offended everyone in a ten mile radius. Still didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Accent’s from down south,” she replied, choosing her words just as carefully. “Arkansas, specifically.”

Where the hell is Arcansaw? Mac wondered, but we’re getting warmer. He kept the question in his back pocket as an option for later anyhow.

“Who’d you make your promise to?” she asked for her next question.

Mac shook his head. “Uh-uh, veto.”

He wasn’t opening that can of worms right now, because if he brought up Duncan, he’d have to bring up his illness, why he wasn’t back home taking care of him, why he needed every cap he could get…If the Boss had her own stuff that was too much to get into, he had the right to keep the deep shit under wraps, too.

“Alright, new question then,” she nodded, though he could tell she still wanted to know. “Oh! Your name! You’ve never actually told me your first name. It’s not MacCready, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” he said with a shake of his head. “My first name is Robert, but my friends used to call me RJ.”

“RJ,” she repeated, like she was testing it out before she quickly added, “What’s the J stand for?”

“Joseph,” he answered without thinking, then made a face. “Hey, wait, that’s not fair. I get to ask two questions this time.”

The Boss grinned, satisfied she had pulled one over on him, but relented anyway, “Fine, fine, ask your questions.”

“Where’s Arkansas?”

“Ever heard of Texas? Near there, but northeast a ways. Second question?”

“How’d you get all the way up here from down there?” he prodded. He knew from the educational holotapes passed down through the hands of every Little Lamplighter before him that there was a lot of wasteland between that area and the Commonwealth.

She paused for a moment, eyebrows furrowed behind the frame of her glasses.

“Moved up here for higher education,” she replied after a beat, whatever that meant. Getting colder. “This one isn’t my question, but you said last night you were from the Capital Wasteland, right? What’s it like out there?”

“God-awful,” Mac said swiftly with a dismissive snort, “but it was—is, home, I guess. Most of it’s destroyed, at least D.C. is. We don’t have as many intact buildings as Boston does. Outskirts aren’t as bad, but they’re just as dangerous. We’ve got clean water, though, so that’s a plus. I actually know the person who did that, but don’t go telling anyone. She’s private.” And doing me a huge goddamn favor right now. “What’s Arkansas like?”

The Boss shrugged, her right hand reaching over to rub over the left, “Wouldn’t know. Been a while since I’ve visited…Can I veto the home questions? It’s makin’ me homesick.”

“Consider the subject vetoed,” he nodded, holding his hands up. Definitely getting colder.

She nodded back a thanks, then thought on her next question for a moment.

“Why RJ?” she asked suddenly, “Not Rob, or Robby, or Bert—”

Mac wrinkled his nose at her so aggressively that it startled a laugh out of her.

“Absolutely not. If someone called me ‘Bert’, I’d shoot them on the spot.”

“Answer the question, RJ.”

He shrugged in exasperation, throwing his hands up again, “I dunno, okay? The other kids just started calling me that when I got left there—”

As soon as the Boss’ eyebrows shot up, he cut himself off with a sigh. He could anticipate her next question, but she’d have to wait her turn. “...How old are you?”

“It’s impolite to ask a lady her age, y’know,” she replied, sticking out her tongue.

“Oh? That’s weird, because I don’t see one around here–Ow, jesus, okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

“I’m twenty-four,” she snipped, massaging her hand, then added, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” he replied, rubbing his shoulder. The Boss suddenly looked surprised. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be older,” she shrugged.

Huh. That was a first. It was usually the other way around.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Sure. Next question?” the Boss supplied.

“Hmm…What’s with the constant Rad-X? You take it like it’s going out of style, and none of the other vault dwellers I know pop ‘em like you do. If you are a vault dweller, that is.”

Given her non-answer around the question, he still couldn’t be too sure.

“I’m countin’ that as two questions, just so you know,” she said before he could argue. “I didn’t grow up around radiation like most people, so I don’t have as good of a resistance. I’ve been inside a vault, but not for very long. Or so it felt.”

Radiation was everywhere, so he thought, an inescapable fact of life for the past two hundred years. The idea that there was somewhere out there so untouched by it to the point where he’d seen the Boss go a little queasy at even a few ticks from the geiger counter was a foreign concept to Mac. So much so, that he didn’t even catch the cryptic ending of her answer.

He had always thought the entire world had been lost to the bombs, no stone unturned. Even the people that still remembered that world, alive but ghoulified, bore the scars of nuclear war.

“Alright, my two questions,” she went on, fingers steepled in front of her chin and he didn’t bother to protest. “Don’t think I forgot—” well, maybe he should have, “—what do you mean ‘got left there?’ Where? Elaborate.”

Mac groaned. It wasn’t the question that bothered him. Despite it all, he had some pride in where he came from, given that they were just a bunch of stupid kids that very well could have died had shit gone horribly south. While he used to sing the praises of ‘pure fucking anarchy’ during his mayorship, someone had to make sure Little Lamplight was kept (mostly) in one piece, which meant there needed to be at least a little bit of organization. Had to make sure it didn’t completely fall apart for the other kids that came after them. With that in mind, he was both grateful and incredulous that he managed to make it to twenty-two years of age under such circumstances. There were a lot who weren’t so lucky.

What really bothered him, though, were the mixed reactions whenever he explained Little Lamplight to outsiders. They usually fell into one of two categories: the disbelievers who usually accused him of lying, or the assholes whose first reactions were to get weird or make fun of him about it.

“I lived underground in a place called Little Lamplight with a bunch of other kids,” he said at last, trying to gauge the Boss’ reaction as he continued. “Just kids.”

Her face fell, genuine concern overtaking her features and almost disbelieving as she stopped in her tracks. Mac stumbled then stopped a few steps ahead of her, and even Dogmeat turned back to look at them, head tilted to the side.

“And no adults? At all?” she asked, and the tone of her voice told Mac that she definitely wasn’t asking as part of the game, and that it may have just ended, actually.

He shook his head as they stood there in the middle of the road, staring each other down. The two of them were on guard immediately, but he could not for the life of him figure out why she was.

“Having adults around wasn’t really something we could trust. We got kicked out when we turned sixteen.”

At that, the Boss looked aghast.

“...How did kids end up there? How did you end up there?” she demanded, incredulity and indignation screwing up her face.

Mac tensed. The Boss had fallen into and created a third reaction category all her own: pity.

“Like a lot of the other kids,” he bristled, defensiveness rising further within him. “Get left there, usually. Look, we turned out fine for the most part—”

“Mac,” she breathed, entirely horrified, “that–that’s awful, I’m so sor—”

“Hey, I don’t need your pity,” he snapped before she could finish the word, pointing an accusing finger at her. He was not about to be felt sorry for, of all fucking things. “Just like a colony you’d find anywhere else, we all had our designated jobs and we watched each other’s backs. I damn well made sure of it. I ran a tight fu–freaking ship.”

“You were in charge of everyone?!” she seethed, her voice raised and barely concealing the fury behind it, channeling it into the shaking of her tightly clenched fists. When she spoke again, her voice went soft, but her grip did not. “Mac–RJ, hun, that’s…you get how that’s messed up, right? No kid should have to go through that—”

“You don’t have to tell me how sorry my life is, I lived it,” he spit, fingers digging into the fabric of his duster. “Veto.”

“I—Okay,” she said, forcing the anger in her voice to dissipate, replacing it with stiff restraint. She started walking again, moving past him with purpose as she hiked her pack further up. “Game over. We’re almost to the Castle anyways.”

[3liipzx]

WARING THIS CONTAIN EP 8 SPOLIERS IF U HAVE NOT WATCH IT PLS DON'T READ THIS UNTIL U ACTUALLY WATCH THE EP 8

I FEEL SO BAD FOR V THE FACT SHE APOLOGIZING TO N NOT HER BEING HONEST TO HIM MAKES HAPPY AND SAD

I will make another post where V get much more traumatized